The War Planners Series

by Andrew Watts

  Byron checked his watch. It was 10 p.m. A few more hours and he’d have to go on duty again up on the bridge. The midwatch ran from midnight to 6 a.m. It got so boring up there without anything to pass the time. Uhhh. They expected him to man the helm, navigate, and keep a lookout for ships for six hours through the middle of the night.

  Byron decided that he needed to download the next book in the series for tonight. The problem was, Nathan had said that they weren’t supposed to use the computers until they got home. That didn’t make any sense to Byron. Nathan was always giving him more and more rules. Don’t go on the computer, no reading on duty. Stupid rules. It was just like the underground society in the book he was reading.

  It wouldn’t hurt just to check and see if Nathan’s room was empty. He could sneak in for a few minutes, log in to his computer, and download the next book. Sneaky like a fox. He walked down the passageway in his flip-flops and cracked Nathan’s door, peering in. No sign of him. He must be on the bridge or out on the deck making his rounds.

  Byron crept into the room and logged in to the desktop computer. Good satellite signal. The Internet was extremely slow, but the book file size would be tiny. He hooked up the USB cord between the ereader device and the computer and clicked through the options until the file was downloading. A time remaining box appeared: six minutes.

  Hmm. A little longer than he was hoping. Hopefully Nathan wouldn’t arrive and catch him red-handed.

  While he waited, Byron opened up another Internet browser window and logged into his Facebook account. He wondered if Wendy had written him back.

  He had sent her several messages telling of his experiences at sea. He would write long passages recounting details of his day and his feelings about how their relationship was growing stronger while they were apart. Usually her replies were very short. Well, there was that long one that had said they were just friends and that he needed to realize that. Usually she didn’t reply at all. But that was probably just because she was a no-nonsense person.

  Hmm. Wendy hadn’t written him in seven days. Byron looked at how many messages he had sent to her during that time. Seventeen. Huh. Kind of a lot. He didn’t want to send a desperation signal. Better just “like” her posts to let her know he was thinking about her…and maybe send her one final message since he wouldn’t be able to write anymore until they got home. Byron decided to keep this message strictly about how his day went. What would he tell her? His rescue. Of course he had to tell Wendy how he had single-handedly rescued the two Americans who were lost at sea. He typed her the story and hit send.

  Byron checked the ebook file. Download complete. Excellent. Now he could read the next book while on duty tonight. He logged out of his uncle’s computer and walked out of the room. He couldn’t help but smile when he thought of how impressed Wendy would be when she read his latest note.

  Six days later. The island.

  * * *

  Lena stomped out of the control room, the soldiers and communications specialists vaulting out of her way. The site supervisor and Natesh hurried to keep pace with her as she travelled down a ladder way.

  Natesh said, “What did Jinshan say?”

  She flashed him a stern look. “He wasn’t happy. We may need to move up our timing.”

  “By how much?”

  “Significantly.”

  Natesh said, “What does that mean for us?”

  She stopped in the hallway, the two men in tow nearly falling on top of each other as they halted. Lena said, “It means that you two will be here alone running things. I am needed elsewhere.” She looked at the site supervisor. “Do you think you can manage?”

  The site supervisor nodded. He had been caught off guard when Lena had been taken prisoner. Lena had taken many risks in this operation, so she could forgive how long it had taken him to respond. But allowing two of the prisoners to escape with one of the motorized boats…that was not forgivable. She continued walking down the hallway, talking as she went.

  She made eye contact only with Natesh. “He’s worried about the escaped prisoners. He thinks that they could alert the Americans.”

  “Manning and Glickstein?”

  “Are there any others that have escaped that I should know about?” She glanced at the site supervisor.

  Natesh frowned. “Isn’t it highly unlikely that they survived the storm?”

  Lena said, “Apparently not.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Jinshan’s cyberwarriors believe that David Manning and Henry Glickstein were picked up by an Australian fishing trawler several days ago.”

  Both men had shocked expressions on their faces. Seeing that only angered Lena more. Lena said, “Natesh, let me ask you, what is the main goal of the Iran operation?”

  “To force a military conflict between Iran and the US.”

  “And in order to do that, we will attack a target in Iran and link it to the US. Correct?”

  “Correct.”

  “So what’s the link? I can go to Iran tomorrow and kill someone important. That’s not my issue. My concern is the link. It takes a bit more time and effort to make it appear as though the attack was an American action.”

  Natesh said, “I understand.”

  Lena stopped at an entrance marked Medical. She held the door open and motioned for the other two men to enter. “After you.”

  Inside, rows of empty gurneys and unused medical supplies filled the room. A single medical technician wearing green scrubs stood over a black body bag lying on a table.

  The tech was a recent arrival. One of the several dozen new military men now inhabiting the island. The flights had increased threefold since the Americans had been taken as prisoners. The island was being stocked with soldiers, weapons, fuel, and supplies. The submarines were supposed to arrive in the finished pen next week.

  Lena smirked at Natesh’s reaction when the medical technician unzipped the body bag. His face was pale. He had probably never seen a dead body before. Well, it wouldn’t be the last.

  She asked the site supervisor, “Where did you find him?”

  “Ma’am, he washed up on the beach, about a kilometer south of here.”

  “How did this happen?”

  “He drowned. The waves…”

  “I realize that. I mean, how is it possible that he drowned?”

  The site supervisor said, “Ma’am, it must have been when we were…the majority of my men and I…we were almost all on the other side of the island, rounding up the prisoners. He must have gone outside during the storm and got too close to the waves. A big surf like that can have a strong undertow. Perhaps he was sucked in.”

  Lena leaned over the bloated grey corpse. “I doubt that. Tell me, would that have been around the same time that David Manning and Henry Glickstein stole one of your motorized rafts?”

  The site supervisor looked at the floor. “I believe so.”

  Lena looked toward Natesh. “What do you think, Natesh?”

  Beads of sweat on his forehead. “I think it’s very likely that this was an intentional act of violence, and that it was related to the theft of the boat and subsequent escape of the two prisoners.”

  Lena nodded. “I concur.” She was about to scold the site supervisor but Natesh spoke before she could.

  He said, “Lena, I…I think that this could actually present us with an opportunity.”

  “How so?”

  Natesh said, “You need a link to the US in Iran. Tom was at one time an employee of the CIA. Even after he went into the private sector, he often did contract work for US intelligence agencies. While Jinshan’s network placed him in his In-Q-Tel job, no one knows that but us…”

  Her smile widened. “I see. An interesting proposition.”

  “Thank you.”

  Lena said, “I will need to depart the island soon. Natesh, I ask that you ratchet up the pressure on our consultants. Expedite extracting any further required information. I will be in touch on our new timelin
e. Use the site supervisor here if you need help motivating the prisoners.”

  Natesh looked hesitant at the thought of further violence against people he had come to know personally.

  Lena said, “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go make another phone call before I leave.”

  Interpol Asia Headquarters and Innovation Center, Singapore

  * * *

  Philippe Shek looked at the picture on his desk. It was an image taken from his former home in the South of France. He was born and raised near Nice. He missed that part of the world. Interpol had had him stationed in Singapore for the past few years. Their innovation center. Philippe wasn’t sure what about police work needed innovating. You found the criminal element and locked them up—normally, anyway. Sometimes there were shades of grey and bargains to be made. But usually he locked them up.

  His cell phone buzzed on his desk. “Shek. Yes, this is he. I’ll hold.”

  “Hello, Philippe,” came the female voice. A voice he hadn’t heard in years. A chill ran down his spine.

  “Lena. Good to hear from you again.”

  “I have a request.”

  “Of course, name it.”

  “I’m going to send you two names. In a few days, these men will be wanted terrorists. I have information that they’ll be heading to Darwin, Australia. It is a delicate situation. I would appreciate it if you would handle this personally.”

  Philippe said, “They will be wanted terrorists? Aren’t they right now?”

  She didn’t answer the question. In all of Philippe’s dealings with Lena, she usually only told people what she wanted them to know. The same thing today. Lena said, “I would like you to apprehend them. Take them away for a while. And this is important—ensure that they don’t speak with anyone for a few weeks.”

  Philippe frowned. He got up, closed the door to his office and sat back down. He spoke in a lower tone of voice. “When will they commit this act of terrorism?”

  “I’m going to put you in touch with someone who will walk you through some of the details. Expect an email shortly. Things will be happening pretty quickly. It will be global news in a few days. I need these men to be apprehended as soon as they arrive in Darwin. Is that understood?”

  “Yes. Of course.”

  “It is imperative that they don’t speak to anyone for a few weeks once you have them. Bury them in legalities or jurisdiction. Do whatever it takes. I just need them locked up for a few weeks. No communication. Can you help me with that?”

  He was taking notes. “I’ll be able to do that. Interpol is very good at creating complexity. I’m sure I can keep them locked up and alone. Are you going to make me famous, Lena?”

  “For a little while. Yes.”

  “And…”

  “And you’ll get your usual fee.”

  Philippe smiled. “I guess I better get on a plane.”

  “Thank you, Philippe. We’ll be in touch.”

  The line went dead.

  He walked out of his office and said to his secretary, “I need you to book a flight to Darwin for me. As soon as possible.”

  She nodded and picked up her phone.

  He walked back into his office and looked at his inbox. Sure enough, an email from Lena’s contact was already there. He read it over, raising his eyebrows as he did.

  Darwin, Australia

  * * *

  A bearded David and Henry walked down the aluminum gangway and stepped onto dry land for the first time in over two weeks. It felt funny, not pitching and rolling anymore. David looked over his shoulder at the tugboat. The tug captain, Nathan’s friend, tipped his hat at them from the bridge.

  David nodded. It was an extra precaution, not coming in with the trawler, but one that Henry and David thought was prudent.

  Henry said, “Well, it was very kind of Captain Nate to give us cash for lunch and a cab.” He looked down at his Rolex and sighed. “I’m going to miss this watch. After I sell it I’m going to need a stiff drink.”

  “We should probably do the phone calls first before drinking.”

  “Of course. It goes: pawn shop, get phones, get hotels, make phone calls, and then happy hour. I wonder if they’ll have a pool bar. Do you know if Australian girls tan topless?”

  David gave him a weak smile. The stress was getting to him. A lot would be decided today. And there was more than one phone call he needed to make. David was so close to hearing his wife’s voice. So close to letting her know he was safe. They would be reunited soon. He would take Lindsay in his arms and embrace his three-year-old, Maddie. He would hold his youngest, Taylor, and laugh at her gummy smile. He wanted this all so much and it was almost within reach. Just a bit longer…

  A mile away from where the tug had pulled in, Philippe stood smoking a cigarette on a similar dock. He watched a blue-and-white trawler as it inched closer and closer to its berth. He looked up at the large “19” posted on the wooden beam adjacent to the boat. This was the right pier. No other fishing boats pulling in. This trawler was the one. This was where the email had originated.

  He threw the cigarette onto the ground and squashed it with his foot. Then he walked toward the trawler. Two of the men were setting up the gangplank. They were almost ready to get off. From what the manager at the fishing company had told Philippe, they had been at sea for several weeks. A long time. But the size and quality of the tuna were worth the trip, the manager had assured him.

  “Is your captain available?” Philippe held open his wallet. “International Criminal Police Organization.”

  A young man in his early twenties yelled, “Uncle Nathan, the International Police are here!”

  A tanned man of about fifty, wearing dungarees and steel-toed boots, came down a ladder and held out his hand. “Name’s Nathan. I’m the captain. How can I help you?” He looked nervous.

  “Good day, Captain. I am Philippe Shek with Interpol. I would like to speak with you and your crew for a few moments.”

  Shek held up his phone so that the captain could see the screen. “Do you recognize the men in these photographs?”

  Nathan’s face turned red. Behind him, Byron said, “Hey, Nathan, it’s the guys we rescued! David and Henry.”

  Philippe grinned. He said, “And where might they be now? Still on board? May I speak with them?” He looked down the pier toward the two black sedans. His men would wait for his order. Philippe preferred to do this part by himself. It created less suspicion.

  Nathan said, “I’m sorry, but may I ask what this is all about?” He was looking at the sidearm holstered at Philippe’s waist.

  “I’m afraid that the details are confidential. Are the men in these pictures on board? I just want to speak with them and ask them a few questions.”

  Nathan looked at Byron and then back at Philippe. He looked like he had done something wrong.

  Henry took half the cash that Nathan had given them and stuffed it in his pocket. He left David a few blocks from the pier, then took a cab to an open-air marketplace.

  The market was charming. Fresh fruits and vegetables in baskets. Tourist trinkets and hometown artists hawking their work. The sun was shining and the air was warm on his face. He had never felt so free. It was almost lunchtime, and Henry was pretty hungry. There was one man selling sizzling chicken skewers. Henry took out the small wad of cash that Nathan had provided, careful to guard it from view. He handed the man a few bills for the meal. Delicious.

  The pawn shop was one street over from the market. His first stop. Second, if you counted the chicken skewers, which Henry didn’t. It was a big place, with everything from crossbows to lanterns to jewelry lining the walls and under the glass. The owner looked Chinese, which under the circumstances almost made Henry turn right around and walk back out the door. But the cab driver had told him that this was the only real pawn shop in Darwin proper, whatever that meant. Henry figured he would let the ethnic prejudice slide. Captain Nate had given them fifty dollars Australian, which was very kind—but
it wasn’t going to get them very far.

  “I would like to sell you this,” Henry said, removing the very expensive platinum watch from his left wrist.

  The Chinese man behind the counter peered at the watch. He said, “Do you mind?” He had an Australian accent, which Henry found funny.

  Henry handed it to the man and he looked it over. The man said, “How much you want?”

  “Well, I got it for seventeen thousand dollars US. So I guess I would like to get that much back.”

  “No good, no good.” He looked like he was mulling over what to say. “This is not real.”

  “Like hell it’s not real. That’s the genuine article, buddy.” Henry hated pawn shops. “Look, just make me an offer and let’s get this started.”

  The pawn shop owner scowled and said, “I’ll give you three thousand Australian.”

  Henry wanted to strangle the man. He said, “Fifteen.”

  The man rolled his eyes and took out a calculator from behind the register. He started typing away as if this was going to tell him something new and interesting. He looked up and said, “Five thousand.”

  Henry cocked his head and looked around the store. He saw a section for pistols. Hmm. “You need a license for handguns around here?”

  The Chinese man looked around the empty store. He leaned forward. “Depends on the price.”

  “I tell you what, how about you throw in one of them pistols over there?”

  A few minutes later, Henry left the store with five grand in Australian cash and a small canvas bag with a handgun and a box filled with enough ammunition to “get him through the rougher parts of the Northern Territory.”

  Walking to the electronics store two blocks down the road, Henry was quite pleased with the purchase. Now he needed to get phones. Henry entered Darwin Cellular off of Edmunds Street. He purchased three unlocked smartphones, then walked three blocks to the hotel district.

  Henry walked through the revolving door in front of the Hotel Norvoel. Captain Nathan had given them the names of the best hotels. From conversations with the crew, they were able to deduce which ones were right next to each other. Most of the hotels on Esplanade overlooked the deep blue water of Fannie Bay. Henry read that name on a brochure in the hotel lobby. Fannie. Silly Australians. They were kind of quirky—like the Canadians of the Southern Hemisphere, but tougher. Probably from fighting all the crocodiles. He hoped he and David could wrap up this China thing soon so that they could meet some of the local female talent. Probably a lot of pretty girls in the Northern Territory. Like this woman here at reception.