by R. B. Shaw
‘The landing skid’s too tough!’ he shouted, pounding frantically at the stainless steel handrails.
With the enormous side loads, the railing attach bolts began to shear with the percussion of gunshots. The skid tore free with a horrendous groan. The full weight of the helicopter pushed the front of the submerged jetboat further below the surface. Though still dazed, Jan helped Dave as he tried to roll the wreck of the lightweight helicopter off the sunken inclined hull. They struggled to reach the gold, waist deep in foaming water.
Dave stumbled and shouted. ‘We’ve lost it! Get clear!’ He swore, horrified, as the buckled cabin of the helicopter subsided onto the crushed hull and trapped him. ‘Shit! My leg’s caught!’
Jan strained to help lift the weight and screamed out. ‘Fang! Dave’s leg’s trapped under the wreck!’
Tiana crouched dazed and coughing, in no condition to help. Fang did not hesitate. He took a running jump along the deck, dived gracefully into the water and swam to Dave’s side. ‘Okay, all together, heave!’
The tangled wrecks settled lower and partly separated. Suddenly Dave’s leg pulled free. ‘That’s it! Get clear!’
With a final surge of bubbles both wrecks sank, leaving them floundering in foamy oil, flotsam and wreckage. They swam exhausted to the Lahara and clambered aboard. The Lahara suddenly lurched, throwing them off balance and then righted itself, rocking gently on the swell.
‘What happened to the bloody gold?’ Fang shouted with despair as he helped them.
Dave rested, panting heavily. ‘It sank with the jetboat.’
54
Tiana stood up and clung to Fang. ‘Let it go, Chris. You don’t need the gold. We have each other.’
It was poor consolation for Fang. As much as he wanted Tiana, his greed dominated all else. ‘I dunno’ how deep it is here. Maybe we could dive for it.’
The Lahara listed ominously and they looked for damage below the waterline. Both lines over the side stretched taut. Something very heavy hung suspended from the side, obscured by an oily litter on the surface.
Jan’s eyes widened as she realised the implications. ‘Do you think the jetboat could still be hanging on the lines?’
Though dejected, Fang caressed Tiana and ran his fingers through her wet hair. She slipped from his embrace as he hurried to the rail and stared over the side. ‘That wrench we felt could’a been the chopper breakin’ free from the jetboat underwater. Ya think the gold spilled out?’
Dave disagreed. ‘I don’t think so. It was suspended by the transom and sank by the prow. All the bags rolled forward under the deck. Even the spilt gold dust was tricklin’ forward. There’s a good chance it’s still there, if it didn’t spill through the blocked up holes.’
Fang’s gold lust returned. ‘I’ll get a winch line connected. We’ll carefully haul it to the surface.’
As Fang began his preparations, Tiana interrupted. ‘Chris, there’s a ship coming!’
A sleek launch approached at high speed and dropped smoothly off the plane. The ‘POLICE’ motif stood out clearly, emblazoned along the side. The uniformed crew cautiously inspected the damaged Lahara. A tinny voice on a loud hailer advised they intended boarding. All on board the Lahara panicked to ensure the suspended jet boat remained undetected.
As the police launch tied up along side, Fang greeted them. ‘Did you come in response to our radio call?’
The Papuan Officer looked surprised as he jumped aboard. ‘No, we received no call. What happened here?’ he demanded curtly as he scanned the smashed deck of the Lahara and its battered crew.
‘Our helicopter had an engine failure while lowering supplies and crashed,’ Fang half lied.
‘Anybody hurt?’
‘A few scratches and bruises. Basically everybody’s okay, just some damage to our cruiser.’
‘Do you need assistance to reach Madang?’ the concerned police Officer offered.
Dave replied cautiously, dreading the thought of being escorted back in by the police. ‘No, we’ll be okay if we take it easy.’ He realised the gilded cargo suspended below might be overstressed by forward speed or snagged in the shallow harbour waters. The cables would very likely break.
The Officer evaluated his reply with a moment of silence, then asked: ‘Have you seen a jetboat?’
Fang was the first to react. ‘Didn’t see nothin’. There was somethin’ out on the northern horizon about an hour ago. It coulda been a jetboat.’
The Officer checked his notebook. ‘Is Mr. Chris Mitchell aboard—the owner of an orange Landcruiser obstructing the airstrip at Karkar Island?’
‘Yeah, that’s me.’ Fang mumbled meekly.
‘That was a brave thing you did back at the airstrip, preventing Kless from taking off with the shipment of drugs. How did you know they were hidden in the tail of his plane?’
Fang glanced at Tiana, momentarily confused.
Dave broke the embarrassed silence. ‘We had our suspicions about his smuggling for sometime. We confronted him with it at the airstrip and asked to inspect his aircraft. He got violent and tried to escape. Chris did what he thought best to prevent them reaching the mainland market.’
The Officer nodded his approval. ‘You’ll be required to make a full statement once you reach Madang. We knew his aircraft was illegally modified and riddled with secret compartments. He bribed a CAA surveyor to sign the approval of the plane. He’s since been arrested.’
Dave repressed a smile. ‘Was his name Ian Collins?’
The Officer flinched and the official barriers came up. ‘We’re not at liberty to release that information until our investigation is complete.’ He signalled to his crew to fend off, then hesitated. ‘Before we go, there’s an urgent message for you from the police chief in Madang. Radio in before you dock—they’ll be waiting for you at the wharf.’
After the police boat cruised well out of sight, Fang turned to Dave. ‘What the hell do the cops in Madang want. Ya think they’re onto us?’
‘Dunno. Don’t sound good. Let’s raise the jetboat and see if any of the gold’s left before we do anything else.’
Within minutes, Fang firmly attached another heavy cable and grappling hook to the sunken wreck. ‘Okay, take up the slack with the winch.’
The torn transom of the ravaged jetboat slowly surged up out of the water and lay hanging on the side of the Lahara. Tiana helped Fang don his scuba gear and he dived down to the prow just below the surface. Dave and Jan watched anxiously as he scoured the forward submerged section.
Fang finally surfaced, struggling with a bag of gold dust and let out a jubilant shout. ‘It’s all there, Dave. Rig up a bucket on a line. I’ll send ‘em up one at a time!’
Dave wrapped his arms around Jan and lifted her clear of the deck. ‘We got it, Jan! A bloody fortune in gold dust!’
Jan smiled and revelled in the warmth of Dave’s enthusiastic embrace. ‘We’re right now, Dave. We can pay out all our debts and keep Avmar running.’
One by one, they hauled the valuable heavy bags and boxes to the surface. An untidy fortune accumulated on the deck. The line jerked and another heavy bucket revealed its gilded contents as it rose through the clear water. Verdigris green flared to bright sparkling yellow as the gold reached the brilliant sunlight.
Fang surfaced briefly. ‘Some bags have broken open, probably another four bucket loads. Toss me down a trenchin’ tool and somethin’ small like a teaspoon.’
Within an hour all the wartime gold lay safely on deck. Only a small quantity remained irretrievably wedged into crevices of the wrecked jetboat’s hull.
Jan and Tiana busied themselves, checking the weight with a spring scale for a rough estimate of the value.
‘I could get the rest with the right equipment,’ Fang suggested.
Dave shook his head. ‘We haven’t time. Let’s take what we’ve got and get rid of the evidence. Cut the jetboat free.’
Jan quickly ran figures through a pocket calculator and sudd
enly screeched with astonishment. ‘About two point eight million dollars worth of gold!’
Slowly the impact of the find broke the stunned silence. The two couples shouted and danced around the gilded pile of bags in jubilation.
Tiana and Jan helped transfer the old bags of gold into secure patrol boxes.
Fang unhooked the lines to Bruno Kless’s pride. The smashed jetboat silently slid out of sight to join its owner at the bottom of the Isumrud Strait.
Fang looked uneasy as he returned to the bridge. ‘Dave, we can’t just cruise into Madang with a fortune in gold on board … ‘specially with the cops waitin’ at the pier!’
Dave guided the Lahara past a reef. ‘Been thinkin’ about that on the way in. Before we reach Madang, we can stop at Kranket Island lagoon. We’ll bury the gold at a secluded spot well away from the village end of the island. That way there’s no evidence and we can slip back and dig it up later.’
Fang smiled and took his turn at the helm. ‘Let’s do it.’
As Kranket Island came into view, Fang aired other plans. ‘Dave, why take Jan and Tiana in. We could drop ‘em off at the island. They can get the villagers to canoe them the coupla kilometres to the mainland?’
‘Great idea. Firstly it puts them out of trouble and secondly, less people for the cops to interview for conflicting statements. Let’s put it to them.’
No amount of persuasion could convince Tiana to disembark at Kranket Island. She never left Fang’s side at the helm, her arm around his thick waist. Her dark eyes sparkled with genuine admiration. ‘I told you before, I’ve never met anyone like you. If you want me, I’ll be with you forever. I’m not leaving the boat without you.’
Fang could not reply. He contained his emotions and stared straight ahead at the sapphire blue waters near Madang. As she hugged him, he relished the luxuriant feel of her hair and supple warmth of her body. He glanced at her and she kissed him longingly.
As Dave suggested the plan to Jan, she smiled, a fiery twinkle in her beautiful eyes. ‘Only one who has cheated death can truly appreciate the wonders of life.’
Dave smirked at having one of his own one-liners thrown back at him. ‘So who’s the adrenalin freak now?’
‘Maybe I am,’ she grinned. ‘After all we’ve been through together, do you think we’d leave you and Fang to face the consequences? We drifted apart once before and I don’t want us to separate again. I know I’ve got to accept you as you are, warts and all. I just hope I can keep up the pace.’ She put her arms around his neck, reached up and kissed him long and passionately. Fang whistled and cheered as Dave pulled her to him and hugged her.
After anchoring in the placid waters of the lagoon, they shuttled the gold to a carefully marked spot well into the jungle. Within an hour they buried the gold and returned to the Lahara. Dave called the police as requested and they directed him to dock at the main wharf.
Tiana was worried about the police questioning. ‘What do we say when we reach Madang?’
Fang smiled and kissed her on the forehead. ‘Don’t worry ‘bout it. Just pretend you’ve got poor English. We’ll work a way outa this.’
‘Without the gold, I can’t see they’ve got any serious charges to lay against us anyway,’ said Dave as he took the helm and guided the Lahara into Madang harbour.
The police waited in force at Madang wharf with paddy wagon Landcruisers and escort motorcycles. The uniformed riders looked smartly dressed with immaculate white gloves and gaiters. An electric silence prevailed as the Lahara tied up at Madang wharf. Two uniformed constables hoisted a gangplank onto the Lahara’s deck to allow a sergeant to board.
Dave noticed the businessman in a white suit standing to one side, a confident smile on his face.
The Tolai police sergeant checked some photos he carried in a folder. ‘Mr Stark and Mr Mitchell?’
‘Yes, that’s us,’ Dave responded nervously.
‘Could you please follow me. The Police Commissioner wishes to speak with you urgently.’
‘Of course,’ said Dave. He trembled with emotion as he turned back to Jan for a last longing glance. ‘Could you secure the Lahara? We should be back shortly,’ he added hopefully.
They left the gangplank and followed the sergeant past the cage-like rear cabin of the Paddy wagon, familiar territory for Fang. He led them through the motorcycle escort to a white stretched limousine. The engine idled gently and the fender flags fluttering in the tropical breeze identified it as an Australian Consular vehicle. The darkened windows obscured the occupants and as the door opened they felt the chill air conditioning in stark contrast to Madang’s withering humidity.
‘Please be seated, gentlemen,’ said the gold-braid and ribbon-decorated Commissioner. ‘This is Andrew Nelson from the Australian Embassy in Port Moresby, and Thomas Miller from the American Consulate.’
Nelson’s immaculate grey suit seemed out of place. He shook hands and rummaged through a folder. ‘You’ve no doubt heard about the rebel uprising on Bougainville. In the standoff, the huge Panguna copper mine has been closed down for some time.’
‘Go on,’ Dave replied, surprised at the sudden turn of events.
‘A defence force adviser told us about your anti-terrorist jungle skills and helicopter gunship experience. We have an urgent clandestine mission that requires leadership from men of your background.’ He uttered the words almost with distaste.
Fang interrupted. ‘Why not the military?’
‘The PNGDF is too busy containing the uprising and the Australian and American Governments must distance themselves from a potential international incident,’ Nelson explained.
Dave glanced at Fang and saw the wry smile he tried to contain. ‘That’s bullshit! Give us the real story and we might consider it.’
Nelson hesitated, then glanced nervously at the American, looking for support. ‘A radical breakaway faction of rebels have commandeered a 30,000 ton ore carrier, the Empress Maru, in nearby Arawa Bay. They’ve got the crew and some passengers held hostage, including some prestigious international visitors.’
Fang interrupted sarcastically. ‘Holdin’ a few thousan’ ton of copper ore to ransom?’
Nelson saw the American nod. ‘There is a few thousand ton of ore aboard heading for the Japanese smelters,’ he paused, ‘… it was enroute from Colombia to Malaysia and Taiwan with a cargo of rare metals.’
Dave smirked suspiciously. ‘Gold? Silver?’
‘Palladium, osmium, rhodium,’ Nelson baulked, ‘… and platinum. Total value, nearly forty eight million dollars.’
Dave stemmed his greed. ‘It’s expensive to mount a rescue mission like this. We’d need some high-tech equipment.’
Nelson glanced at the American. ‘The mission is backed by a wealthy cartel of very concerned financiers. They have access to a variety of military equipment.’
‘What’s in it for us?’ Fang demanded, cutting to the bottom line.
Nelson hesitated. ‘Five percent of all you retrieve.’
Dave opened the limousine door symbolically. ‘We better go, Fang. It’s payday. We got business to attend to.’
Fang paused before he followed Dave’s rejection. ‘This is risky stuff. We’d need at least twenty percent.’
Miller quickly pecked away at a calculator and displayed the readout to Nelson silently.
‘Ten percent is the best we can do,’ Nelson bluffed with agitation.
‘Sounds reasonable, if that’s simply our fee.’ Dave offered as if he was bargaining with a Hong Kong street hawker. ‘All costs, including a helicopter, would be at your expense.’
Nelson realised he had contacted the right men. ‘I’ve no time to haggle. This is urgent. When can you start?’
‘We need recovery time and advice from other partners,’ said Dave thinking of Jan and Jake. ‘We can be ready as soon as you chase up the Cobra and other military equipment we need.’
Miller, the American, spoke for the first time. ‘Cobra?’
‘
Helicopter. Bell Cobra gunship.’ Fang interjected. ‘Your government has a stack of ‘em from Desert Storm mothballed in the Mojave Desert.’
Without further comment, Dave and Fang left the final arrangements in Nelson’s hands. They laughed as they left the limousine and excitedly made their way back to the Lahara. Suddenly the executive in the white suit stepped from a small sedan. ‘Mr. Stark?’
Dave recoiled too late this time, the executive finally caught up and he could not avoid him. ‘What do you want?’ he grunted curtly.
‘Ian Clark, Boroko Bank. I’ve been trying to track you down. Some weeks back your company, Avmar Salvage was declared bankrupt following a massive computer fraud by a disgruntled senior employee.’
Fang interrupted sarcastically. ‘Tell us somethin’ new.’
The executive adjusted his glasses and continued. ‘The culprit has now been apprehended, and the balance of all affected company accounts has been reinstated. The Boroko Bank wishes to apologise for the delay in processing these claims. If you’ll kindly sign this waiver, your former balance of funds will be reinstated with all interest accrued since the theft.’
Dave paused. He knew technically, the waiver showed admission of blame. He could sue the bank. It was a hassle he could do without. He signed the form and the relieved executive departed.
‘Well pal, how about that!’ Fang smiled smugly. ‘We won out after all! We lost the chopper and ended up with a damaged boat and Landcruiser. I can salvage my Invader later. Being our own insurance agents, we can fix up any claim problems. The rewards were worth it.’
Dave did not totally agree. ‘What about the collateral damage, as the Yanks call it. The innocent parties: Joe, Ted and his son?’
Fang mellowed. ‘That was tragic … but even if we weren’t involved, probably wouldn’t have changed much.’
The Lahara rocked gently at the mooring. Despite their ordeal, two women stood smiling and excited at the rail, each exotically beautiful in their own special way.
Fang let Dave take the lead. ‘What are you gonna do, pal? Give ‘em the good news first, or the bad?’