The Ringer

by Greg Hunt

  No response was necessary as the ringers’ level of concentration heightened further. Archie could not put David out of his mind. The timing was incredible. Here he was trying to concentrate for his band and somehow the previous ringing by St. Mary’s, and the fact that David had been involved, really upset him.

  Try as he might to keep his calm, it was one of the few times in his life where Archie was unsettled. The ringing was going well, but Archie could not fully concentrate on keeping his place. Suddenly he was being shouted at sternly and he came to out of his daydream and reddened immediately as he realised that he had just clipped the Tower Captain’s bell. Horror! All other thoughts were now out of his mind as he attempted to redeem himself. The ringing soon came to an end and the band stood their bells.

  In the presentation later that afternoon all were eagerly awaiting the result of the main striking competition. It was clear that whilst all of the bands had performed well the result would be between St Mary’s band and Portsmouth Cathedral.

  Both bands had rung to the best of their ability. The judges had been impressed. They then commented on the individual performances, summarising the Stedman Triples rung by the St. Mary’s band as “a fine piece of ringing.”

  Turning to the Portsmouth Cathedral piece, again they commented on an excellently rung method, except for a little clip halfway through. At that moment the whole of the band gazed intently at Archie. The judges decided that, due to this one small mistake, the St. Mary’s band would be awarded the striking competition trophy for the current year.

  Chapter 21

  The next boat leaving Lima was a private vessel which had many of the close Morales family aboard.

  With the relative fiasco that had occurred delivering the current precious cargo through the Andes to Lima, Natalia and her brothers wanted to ensure that the Morales’ family’s main trade route to Europe was secure. It was also vital for Natalia to establish the Morales’ way with their contacts in the UK and Europe and this needed to be done face to face.

  Senor Morales would still oversee the whole operation from his base in Lima. Natalia was his eldest and only daughter, and she had been brought up to look after herself. She knew that she would not let her family down; if she did, there would be trouble. Her life would be at risk.

  The Morales family were now settled within their cabins on the freighter The Islander, and what they could not know was that two of the tribal men’s friends had followed the Morales brothers and the tall Spanish lady with dark, black, shoulder length hair, grey-green eyes and still the dark red lipstick, onto the vessel.

  The friends of the tribal men, who had attempted to collect payment and then been dealt with by the Morales brothers, had found their colleagues with broken ribs and broken noses limping back to their humble homes in the mountains. This was not acceptable to any human society and the ways of the Andean tribes meant that the Morales needed to be taught a lesson.

  It would be enough for any of the Morales to have an accident. The tribal men did not need to announce themselves. They worked hard on the land. There was no need for them to make a big deal about what they were doing. This was how they lived their everyday lives. Hundreds of years ago they may have let the Spanish think that they had conquered most of South America, but the tribal way of life lived on. The people were too strong emotionally to be conquered and this would be a small token of their resistance.

  The Morales brothers reviewed their itinerary, detailing who needed to be seen over the few days that were being spent in the UK. It was a busy schedule and essential that all of the contacts being seen were aware of how the distribution routes needed to be run.

  The Morales family could then spend time overseeing the distribution; ensuring that it operated like clockwork. Their sourcing of the supply had highlighted that the Andean routes were clearly becoming at risk and the Bolivian government were currently on the coat-tails of the Morales’ existing suppliers. The family were not aware of any issues with their local distribution networks. They appeared strong. It was important that no details could be traced back to them. The many intermediaries were not aware of any information more than one link in the chain away. If they knew anything of the Morales family, then it was because of their impressive international reputation for the quality of their supply of leather goods, rope, hemp and netting.

  On the first evening of their fifteen day voyage the Morales were already relaxing in their cabin. The first leg would take them through the Suez Canal and into the Atlantic, prior to their crossing to Portsmouth.

  Meanwhile, the two tribal men were having difficulty sleeping. They were cold, tucked away in one of the small life rafts just in front of the bridge. “Pass me some Coca leaves,” one of them said. The other looked at him with a slightly glazed expression, grunted, and then tossed over the full bag of dirty green leaves.

  Chapter 22

  Natalia woke in her cabin the following morning and did not want to stir from what had been a fitful night’s sleep.

  She had been thinking about her life to date and concluded that she had had a difficult route to the present. This was mixed up with the thought that she had pulled herself together and been strong and made a huge success of the chances that she had been given, and this had made her family proud.

  Even if her competitors had not respected her techniques for dominating the Lima market in the buying and selling of leatherwear, and the front that the business provided, they did at least admire her for her cunning and hardness.

  She had managed to build up her father’s business from humble beginnings in a small shop within the centre of Lima. It was when their business branched out that it became successful. Whilst her father had been an excellent negotiator and was always able to command a much higher price for his goods than those that were sold to him from the tribal people, Natalia had taken the business into a whole new realm of success.

  With her contacts across South America, Natalia had firmly set up the first major export routes for high value cocaine, with their main market being the UK. The cocaine that arrived in the UK was initially distributed through Portsmouth, and it was from Portsmouth that Natalia ensured that the UK operation was receiving and distributing their valuable supply effectively.

  There were risks and, at the beginning, those risks had been minimal. Many of Natalia’s wider family were already involved in the production of the paste in enclaves within the rainforest. The rainforest provided an excellent supply of the raw materials, running water and the ability to hide from the government searches in their helicopters.

  Natalia had had the brains to develop the distribution side of the business but needed strong arm help when she met with resistance. In addition there was unacceptable risk from individuals who could not be corrupted and were a hindrance to expansion, or from those who were likely to inform the incorruptible elements of the authorities, where even the Morales family had no power. This was where her brothers played their part.

  Whilst they may not have been born with the same intelligence that Natalia possessed, they were athletes and went running every other day. Both brothers were also members of kick-boxing clubs and sparred with each other. Their contacts were of a different nature, as underground Lima ran on threats, violence and the ability to persuade. The brothers and their kick boxing friends and acquaintances soon developed the ability to persuade and it was recognised before very long that you did not want to be on the wrong side of the Morales brothers.

  Natalia was still snoozing, and pulled the covers closer to her body, endeavouring to keep the heat from escaping into her large and airy cabin. She dreamed of owning a place in the mountains, a ranch with a masterful husband. He would have to be of strong, Spanish-South American blood. She would have at least a couple of children and land as far as you could see in every direction. This was her dream… she purred and rolled over for some more snoozing. She did not need the beauty sleep. Everyone on the freighter had eyed enough o
f her beauty. After all, she was the baby sister of the family, the one that should be looked after and taken care of.

  Chapter 23

  The Woodcutter in the discreet wooden chalet in the French Alps had had a swim in the relaxation zone pool above the basement area. He was just having a quick, cool shower before satisfying his enormous appetite. He always looked forward to breakfast. A full fry up was one of his favourite meals and the smell produced whilst he was cooking was enough to take his stomach into full hungry excitement.

  He did not stint on the ingredients; sausages, bacon, and a couple of eggs, fried tomato, mushroom and toast. He turned on the radio and continued to improve on his understanding of the fast spoken French that was gushing out of the handset on the kitchen worktop. The weather forecast soon followed and confirmed that the next couple of days were going to be still with clear skies and a freezing level of one thousand six hundred metres before increasing winds and the potential for violent alpine storms and snow showers thereafter. The temperature was also to drop dramatically to the minuses at valley level.

  This last news confirmed that it would be necessary to make another supply run and these trips were also enjoyable, though maybe not as satisfying as the full breakfast sizzling away in the pan, wafting itself into every corner of the chalet. Anyway, it was a good excuse to exercise one of the skidoos stored in the basement and take it for a proper outing.

  The last of the bacon mopped up the remaining tomato and egg, another perfectly clean plate. No-one could blame him for wasting his food. He picked up his winter clothing, deer stalker hat, and overcoat to go over his fleece and salopette-type trousers. Proceeding to the first floor, he pointed his electronic fob at the door for the second bedroom on the right to ensure that all was secure. A quick glance around confirmed that there was nothing out of place. There were no warning lights or messages requiring a response.

  He descended into the basement area and put in the skidoo’s emergency locker spare thermals, a torch, rope and first aid kit. Firing up the skidoo and skidding out of the chalet, he used the electronic fob to close up the basement doors. The skidoo’s steering was surprisingly stiff and it required some shoulder weight to steer the machine around the side of the property and onto the perfect powder snow.

  Once on the snow the skidoo came into its own, cruising across the white powder. The brakes were sensitive. The engine allowed for a top speed of over forty miles an hour, which was an awesome out of control feeling over the wild terrain, but the ride was fairly smooth due to the in-built suspension and make-up of the front skis, which dampened any rough contact. This meant that the rider was able to endure journeys of a couple of hours without feeling too exhausted. The rider did need to ensure that his face and hands were covered, as being in the same position, similar to a motorcycle rider, the cold would eat away at those parts that were exposed or immobile and these areas would become numb.

  The black skidoo wound down the valley onto the cross country trails. These trails soon entered the top of the pine forest above the valley floor. They were rutted by the snow plough tracks clearing the essential routes that maintained access to the ski villages above. On skis or a board, these trails give an extremely bumpy ride with pine cones, fallen logs and other hazards but the skidoo absorbed the bumps and troughs and the Woodcutter soon found himself at the local grocery store on the high street of Plagne 1800, below La Plagne. Whilst in the neighbouring valley, it was a different world of civilisation.

  No one asked any questions here. He could come and go as he pleased and stock up with whatever he needed. Thirty minutes later he had what he required. Walking swiftly out of the small supermarket, he headed past Chalet Marguerite to the cross country trails. Again, these routes would lead him out into the perfect white and to his wilderness valley.

  Chapter 24

  Once back at the partially hidden chalet, the Woodcutter unloaded his supplies into the store rooms in the basement and bounded up the stairs to the second bedroom on the right. Pointing his electronic fob, the door slid open and he smoothly pushed it aside to start up the computer system. His IT set up allowed the Woodcutter to check on the daily reports that would have been submitted so he could provide the required updates to his controllers.

  The previous ‘Code White’ situation had seriously alarmed all in the operation. It was not clear how it had happened but it was likely that there was a leak, and all leaks needed to be permanently stemmed.

  The computer buzzed to life. He went through the current deliveries to confirm that they were all on track. From his remote cabin he had access to the Earth’s many satellites and using his global positioning system against those that were transmitting from each of the deliveries, there was an instant view of the state of play of the operation.

  It would have been too dangerous for his controllers to have had this information to hand in the UK, as the authorities would have been sure to have tracked down the unusual signals and amount of power being used.

  In the high Alps, the remoteness of the chalet in its pristine wilderness meant that this valley had been overlooked so far.

  Going through the deliveries, all of the stock from the Alana Princess was now where it should be in the pipeline. The cargo had been unloaded successfully and the handlers were at the processing stage. His contacts required payment, but this was just a matter of time.

  The Juliano, which had temporarily docked in Plymouth since the news of the Code White, was now on her way to Portsmouth and would be unloading within the next forty eight hours. She would require special attention since the close call with the Alana Princess, and to ensure that she was unloading just like any other fishing vessel.

  As Portsmouth no longer had a regular fishing fleet, the whole operation had had to set up their own new fishing terminal. It had gone down well with the locals, who were not used to fresh sea produce. Much of the fish supplied the local restaurants on the seafront in Southsea and Old Portsmouth. The other element of the stock was carefully distributed across the UK in the usual method and the local points of contact were responsible for its successful onward transportation.

  Scrolling through the current reports, the Woodcutter noticed that the main South American distributor had recently left Lima on board the scheduled freighter and would be arriving in Portsmouth in less than two weeks. He was aware of their reputation and it was of no concern to him. He had experienced his fair share of run-ins with the law, with ex-colleagues and these type of people. His military past was behind him now, but if he had to use some of his past training, he would. It had helped him on many occasions to stay alive and he was not planning on leaving this Earth anytime soon.

  He had been given his specialist work to do, and he performed it well. His overseeing of the state of play of the operation provided the valuable information to the main distributor so that they could feed this knowledge onto the supply chain. This network of providers would then know the quantities required. The Woodcutter would similarly check on the progress of the off-loading of the stock and onward distribution.

  He reflected on the importance of his work feeding information back to his overall controllers. He shifted in his seat and his eye twitched, for as well as making a living, he felt bitter now; his young wife and teenage daughter’s lives depended on it.

  Chapter 25

  Petty Officer Stuart Betts’s behaviour had completely changed. He was being a model naval Non-Commissioned Officer and doing everything Lieutenant Archie Malcolm and Commander Edgar Bennett required for the mission to go ahead as planned.

  Furthermore, Petty Officer Betts had been on the shooting practice range whenever time allowed, and was boosting team camaraderie at every opportunity. Archie had had a change of heart and thought he would be a valuable member of the team. With his vast practical experience, (he had served for over twenty years,) he would be useful if they were up against it.

  Lieutenant Malcolm decided that in leading the team, with Pet
ty Officer Betts providing some experience, he would also need several of his reliable core group. These were crack marksmen in peak physical condition, with whom he had served for a number of years, and they weren’t all men.

  Jackie and Jo were as tough as any of them, in excellent physical shape and perfect shots. In addition to Jackie and Jo, were Nick, Kevin and James. The seven of them had to work as a close unit. Kevin would handle the communications and Nick and James were experienced in Arctic and Alpine conditions and would scout the ground that lay ahead.

  As Archie walked across to the map table there were reconnaissance pictures strewn across the whole of the glass top. Jackie and Jo had been going through the layout of the Alpine area that the team were to be in, searching for signs of installations that could be a threat to them when on the ground.

  Commander Edgar Bennett appeared and loomed over Lieutenant Malcolm’s shoulder. He started to point at the map table and confirmed what the team already knew:

  “The coded radio traffic was believed to be emitted from this valley close to the resort town of La Plagne in the French Alps. There is a scheduled air drop at 08:00 hrs with your team to depart at 06:00. Do not be late and ensure that you come back with further information as to what is going on. You may use whatever force is necessary to ascertain what threat is being imposed on the United Kingdom and please do remember this operation is to be strictly between these four walls, is that all understood?”

  The entire team answered as one: “Yes, sir.”

  So they were on for the following morning. This was it. Archie’s moment of glory or failure. The mission was his responsibility and he would be making the decisions on the ground that would be affecting the lives of his six team members. He was unlikely to sleep, but he then remembered it was practice night at the Cathedral.