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Twenty Two: The Bunker
Bruce was in a fair amount of pain but he still wanted to come along to show me exactly where Pops was. I checked my kit, I had kept it to an absolute minimum, no food, no maps, no all singing and dancing computer tablet thing that I was told to bring, only a very small medical bag and my gun and knife. I wanted to travel light and fast. I also had one hand grenade, one smoke grenade, a powerful torch and explosives. Everything looked good so I grabbed Bruce's AK47, slung it over my shoulder, helped him to his feet and we limped forward.
It was a long way, especially as we only had three legs between us, but eventually we arrived at the bunker where Bruce was sure Pops would be. The bunker was, of course, underground but its main door was in a dugout entranceway, all around it was razor wire, sand bagged defensive positions and men with guns. I dropped to the ground when we came in sight of the defenders but Bruce hobbled slowly forward, when he was within easy range of his Black Shirt colleagues guarding the bunker he threw a canister at them and dived for cover. They opened fire and the canister exploded, it leaked out a gas that left the Black Shirts very sleepy, I ran to where Bruce was hiding, he'd been hit and I patched him up as best I could.
'This is the third time I've had to patch you up,' I said.
'Not much chop at this fighting lark am I?'
'I'd pack it in if I were you,' I said. 'Okay I'm going in there.'
'It's a lot of trouble to go to for a woman.'
'Tell me about it.'
'You won't leave me here mate?' he said.
'I swear I'll be back for you.'
I ran over to the bunker, it was protected by a three inch thick metal door. I placed my explosives on its closure and hinges, retreated behind sand bags and detonated. The door blew off and the explosion blew everything within easy reach to kingdom come. I stood up, dusted myself off and went inside.
The bunker was well lit, it was a labyrinth of tunnels and corridors, I hit the ground and crawled forward. Automatic rifles started filling the entrance way with lead, I returned fire and kept moving. Bullets zipped all around me, I threw my smoke grenade into the tunnel and it exploded into a dense cloud of smoke and pollution, I crawled on. The bullets kept coming my way, I fired back and crawled to a small alcove which I managed to squash myself into, I took the pin from my hand grenade, jammed the grenade into an electric control box and dived back into my alcove for cover. There was an explosion and all the lights went out. That was supposed to happen, what wasn't supposed to happen was that the roof fell in and I was covered with rubble and concrete, I couldn't move. Three men appeared pointing automatic rifles at me, I didn't think it was a good time for formal introductions so I said nothing. They hauled me to my feet, punched me in the stomach and, with torches to light the way, dragged me through the maze of corridors.
We came to a big iron door, one of the Black Shirts banged on the door and a voice from inside said enter. I was dragged in and dropped to the ground. The room was lit by candelabras and was not what I had expected, bookcases surrounded the walls and there were lots of comfortable old leather armchairs. In one of these old leather armchairs sat a middle aged, overweight, dark haired man, the shark, or Singen Saracen-Spode, in another, tied hand and foot and gagged, was Kashmere.
'Hello my friend,' said Spode, as he stroked his cat, the white Persian, Siamese thing. 'We meet again.'
'The last time I saw you I was thrown off a cliff,' I said.
'Yes, you seem to have as many lives as a cat. I did not think we would meet again in this world.'
'And the time before that you had been shot in the head and you were dead. It seems you have a few cat lives of your own.'
'This is true but I was not quite dead when you left me here on the island, you should always remember to check that your quarry is dead before you leave the scene.'
'Obviously. Have you got armour plate inside your skull?'
'Funnily enough yes, well not armour but stainless steel.'
'Handy for washing down,' I said.
'So the Australians have sent you once again. I don't think it is me who has the hard head.'
'Look, I haven't come for you, I'm not interested in you.'
'I am glad to hear it.'
'I've come for the girl.'
'Why? She is a mosquito, a buzzing nuisance.'
'You're right but I'm friends with her grandfather.'
'That's nothing to me.'
'He asked me to come and get her out.'
'Then you are a fool.'
'Quite probably.'
'She is my hostage and will remain so until I decide to shoot her.'
'I have to take her back, I promised.'
'You are forgetting something.'
'What's that?'
'You are my prisoner.'
'Well not really, I let these big goofs get hold of me because I knew they would bring me here.'
'I could have you shot.'
'I wouldn't recommend it.'
'And why is that?'
'Do you want me to show you something?'
'What are you talking about?'
I moved like a lightning strike. Three Black Shirts were guarding me and one of them had a gun, I took out the one with the gun first by throwing my body at him and using my knee as a battering ram. The other two seemed stunned that this could be happening in their bunker and didn't move. I wiped one out with the cosh I had collected from Australian Security, I see now why they carry them, they can come in very handy, and the other one collapsed on the floor when I hit him over the head with a chair as he came at me with a hunting knife. The knife skedaddled across the floor before I could grab it and finished up at Spode's feet, he picked it up, grabbed Kashmere and held the knife to her throat, I'm sure I could have taken him out but I didn't want to risk it.
'Quite a little mover,' he said as he walked backwards taking Kashmere with him. The knife was still at her throat, he was a killer, I didn't doubt that and any move on my part would leave Kashmere on the floor with a severed throat, I didn't move. 'Stand back.'
I stood back.
'An arrangement.'
I shook my head.
'A deal.'
I said nothing.
'I take this lady out and get on board a helicopter waiting for me. You let me go, no interference, and I will return the little lady to you.'
'She's not so little,' I said.
'In my opinion she is also not a lady, her mouth is never still.'
'I don't make deals.'
'You have no choice.'
'There are always choices.'
'Yours would appear to be limited.'
'Maybe, maybe not.'
'We seem to have a standoff.'
'So what happens now?' I said.
'Trust me when I say I will not harm her.'
'No way but I do have something you might find interesting.'
'What is that?'
I took a canister from my hip pack.
'It's a canister.'
'Imbecile, I can see that.'
I dropped the canister to the floor, took from my hip pack a very small doodad and pressed a red button on it.
'What are you doing?'
'We've got five minutes to get out of here before the whole place explodes.'
Spode knelt to pick up a torch, Kashmere threw herself out of his reach, I flung a candelabrum at his head and Spode lashed out with his knife, I was by his side and had the knife from his hand quicker that you could say grab that knife, it was my fastest move ever.
Spode disappeared into the maze and I turned to help Kashmere. I ripped of the gag and freed her hands and feet.
'About time,' she said. 'Come on let's get after him.'
'Kashmere what the hell are you doing back on this bloody island?'
'I told you before, he killed my mother, I'm going to get him.'
We ran into the corridor which was a foolish thing to do, we both should have known better, a
nd Spode fired at us with an automatic pistol, a bullet went through my left shoulder and out the other side. That stunned me for a while but Kashmere kept after him.
My claustrophobia came back. I was in a small, dark corridor, I couldn't move my left arm because of the bullet and, just to cap it all off, my head was feeling weird from having the roof fall in on me. I took a deep breath, told myself to pull up my socks, to get a life, to be a man and stop being a bloody wuss. Slowly I moved forward, very slowly, it was dark, pitch dark but I could hear voices and gunshots so I made my way towards the sounds.
'Where have you been?' said Kashmere.
'Taking a stroll.'
'Oh my God Jack, you've been shot, does it hurt?'
'Only when I laugh.'
'Thank you for coming to get me.'
'I did it for Old Stan.'
'Thank you very much.'
'And because it's amazing what a man will do for a pair of pretty eyes.'
Bullets started to bounce around us again.
'How many minutes have we got?'
'Not bloody many, we have to get out of here.'
We dropped to the floor, I still had my hand gun, so I fired and crawled, Spode, I assume it was Spode, fired and retreated but very slowly, obviously his tactics were to delay us and hopefully, when the canister of explosives went off, the roof would fall in on us. I kept firing and crawling, I was hit again, thankfully in the same arm, but I kept moving, Kashmere fired but I kept her behind me. Suddenly we could see light, the floodlights outside had been switched on, Spode quickly stood up and ran, he was clearly silhouetted, I stood up, took aim and fired but I was all out of ammunition. Kashmere stepped in front of me, aimed and was about to fire, when there was a huge explosion and the roof fell in.
We stumbled out of the bunker holding each other up, we were both quite a bit the worse for wear. Outside in the dazzling floodlights was Spode, he held an AK47 and pointed it straight at us. I pushed Kashmere behind me and Spode laughed, he stroked his cat, he had his damn cat with him, still it was nice to see that no animals were harmed in the making of this adventure.
'I will take great pleasure in killing you,' he said. 'You have both, but especially you woman, been like bothersome mosquitoes.'
'Someone will get you one day,' said Kashmere, 'even if it's not us.'
'They may try,' he said as he lifted his gun. 'You were foolish, you should have joined me when you had the opportunity.'
'I would rather be dead,' I said.
'You very soon will be.'
I looked him in the eye and waited for the shot, I didn't have to wait long. Spode fell and his body slid down at my feet. I knelt down and felt his pulse, it was gone and so was half of his head. I spun around and there was Bruce, wedged against a tree with an AK47 that fell from his hands.
'Is he dead?'
'Yep, he won't be queuing up for his old age pension.'
'So now can I get off this fucking island?'
Shakespeare on the Roof Page 22