Without You I Have Nothing

by J A Scooter

  The phone rang again. Joe absentmindedly picked it up as he watched Peter's face intently.

  "Joe speaking.” Then he immediately broke into Italian. Even Mark, who thought he could speak a few European languages and whose Italian was good, didn't have the faintest idea what Joe was saying in his dialect.

  "Thanks. Keep in touch,” Joe concluded.

  Those were the only words Peter or Mark understood.

  "I believed my Italian was good but...” Mark commented with a laugh.

  "Unless you were born in the same village as me on the island of Sicily you wouldn't understand a word of what I was saying,” was Joe's laughing reply.

  "Peter let's go.” He led him into the street where they couldn't be overheard. "Things are developing. Silver Service Limousines have contacted me to say Dingo has ordered four limos for 8 pm Friday to pick up at Hunters Hill and drop off at the Red Jade, Dingo's own nightclub.

  "It appears the nightclub chef has his knickers in a knot, as all food is to be Halal. In fact, the staff is furious. They're ready to quit but are terrified of repercussions."

  Mark interrupted any further comment by calling Peter out of the street to the phone. A quick conversation in Cantonese ensued.

  "God, this is like the United Nations,” Mark remarked.

  Peter returned to the street to continue the conversation with Joe. Laughing at the surprised look on Joe's face he announced, "Our troops arrive tomorrow and Dingo's fools genuinely consider they are so smart.

  "We shall see! Stop looking worried and surprised, Joe, I've merely called in some debts owed to me.” Peter threw these words back at Joe as he rushed up the hill to the Motel.

  "Cancel all bookings for say the next month, please Susie. Any bookings you're holding, arrange to pass onto nearby motels and you pick up the tab. Make them free to your clients so they'll definitely wish to come back. I'll leave the appropriate arrangements to you but the motel will hang the NO VACANCY sign out until I say otherwise. I'll sign the register as a business booking now.

  "You'll have no problem with the motel owner as you'll be showing a healthy profit during this period. At least, for a while you'll have quality time with James."

  Susie could only shake her head in surprise as Peter wrote in flourishing calligraphy the official names of two companies - one in Mandarin Script and the other in Tamil.

  "Your guests are hopefully arriving tomorrow morning and taking a few tours of Sydney before beginning hard work and study at Blake Pastoral,” he explained. "Blake Pastoral will be looking after the tab and will be paying you something special for being a gracious hostess."

  Ignoring her efforts to refuse, he phoned Blake Pastoral and merely grunted, "The acting RSM please,” before breaking into Nepali. When he had eventually concluded his orders, he put his arm across Susie's shoulder to reassure her.

  "Stop looking so worried Susie. Never fear, we will rescue Jennifer and I'll kill the scum responsible for her plight. That's a guarantee, not a threat, and it'll be to my immense satisfaction. Tomorrow night you'll discover why I'm laughing at these fools."

  "Just as well, the car park is large as a tourist coach will arrive tomorrow and will be parked on the premises to transport your guests. Perhaps, if you're up to it, you could go with the coach as hostess as you know Sydney pretty well. I know the passengers will enjoy James and spoil him rotten."

  "The men who are coming are good fun. They're bloody dangerous but good fun. They'll protect you and James. God,” his face broke into despair, "if only I'd taken the same care of Jennifer."

  Tearfully, he retraced his way to the workshop where he called Joe and handed the phone to him.

  "Ring your mates in the taxis. Singapore Airlines Flight 301 from Singapore arrives at 7 am tomorrow. They'll hold up a sign Little One Tours and will collect sixteen passengers. Blake Pastoral will pay all bills for the trip. The expenses will include 25% cash tip for each driver. They are to take two passengers per cab and the taxis are to be clean. The drivers are to dress in clean uniforms. Can you arrange that?

  Their fares will book in at Susie's Motel where the drivers will have breakfast with our guests and get to know them."

  Joe stared at this man who was so calmly arranging a war, a gang war where there would be no prisoners taken and where there could only be one outcome.

  Dingo would have mo time to duck or run.

  The telephone conversation continued for a long time and Peter was becoming impatient when Joe replaced the phone. "Now that was really interesting,” Joe commented. "It seems Dingo's been running a protection racket on the various taxi fleets, and when a few drivers rebelled by smashing up his Mercedes, they were killed. Now they're only too pleased to assist you."

  WEEK 1

  That Fateful Wednesday

  It was very early Wednesday morning when two Victorian cars drove to the entrance of the workshop and Peter directed them to the motel where they were booked in as guests of Blake Pastoral.

  The first of the invited visitors had arrived.

  Taxi after taxi dropped their fares at the motel and after the divers ate breakfast with their passengers the taxies quickly disappeared into the traffic. None of the guests signed the register and none gave their name. To Susie they were nameless Gurkhas, Indians or Chinese.

  Andrew arrived and the motel was quickly filling.

  The first out of the coach were the two daughters of the RSM. They rushed to Susie demanding to see James William.

  Peter was surprised but instinctively he knew the RSM had supplied his own bodyguards for the baby. Gurkha women were renowned for the ferocious protection of their children.

  An even bigger surprise was the last passenger to alight. The surgeon from Blake Pastoral's village hospital stepped forward to grip Peter's hand. "The RSM demanded I come in case some of you wild, hot headed young fellows get injured."

  No one left the premises and there seemed to be an air of urgent expectancy and excitement hanging over the building. Food arrived. The new guests were served an Italian lunch.

  Susie had ceased to be amazed at her guests' courtesy and smiling treatment of her and the baby.

  She recognized the RSM and his daughters but all the other Gurkhas looked alike and they didn't attempt to introduce themselves. The RSM said they had unpronounceable names and called them by their various ranks. He added that it was better if no one knew their names but didn't elaborate.

  That night a banquet was prepared in the dining room and Bill, Susie, Mark, Joe and Joe's wife, Maria, were honored guests. Two special guests were invited - Ted and Bob.

  During the meal, Susie whispered to Peter that the two babysitters had tossed her out of the baby's room and had made up beds in his room to look after James all night. It was as though the girls intended keeping a 24/7 watch on him. The meal eventually ended and two Gurkhas moved to guard the door guaranteeing absolute privacy,

  Andrew stood. Hesitating, he looked over the eager faces, and then began to address the crowd.

  "Friends, it's my sister who's been kidnapped. It's Peter's wife who's been stolen and,” he proceeded to outline Peter's background. The welcome visitors from Malaysia, Singapore and the Gurkhas all knew Peter's history, but of the others, only Susie had a vague outline. Ted and Bob were flummoxed.

  He finalized his talk with the brief words, "There'll only be five involved in the planning to rescue Jennifer. Peter, Joe, the RSM, Bill and I.

  "Susie, will you arrange accommodation for Maria, as she'll be staying here for a while. Peter, Joe and I have to work. I think Peter has an evil plan for me to get blisters on my hands tonight as he says I don't know what hard work is.

  "Mark, Bob and Ted are to be our smokescreen people. You're to confer closely with the RSM, Bill and Peter so the smokescreen is extremely dense and most effective.

  "Now everyone sleep well. There's plenty of wine and beer here so enjoy yourselves. Have a party but no sore heads. Okay, Peter let's go. Come on Joe, I b
elieve I'm your apprentice. I'll make you earn your money tonight."

  With Joe and Peter as passengers, Andrew drove the tourist coach into the workshop where advertisements announcing Little One's Australasian Tours replaced the Blake Pastoral signs on the sides and rear. Andrew under Joe's guidance unscrewed the Mercedes insignia and grunted when assisting in the removal of the bull bar.

  The new bull bar and Scania signs were in place when, knowing that it was not the cleanest of jobs, Joe made Andrew crawl under the bus. He was to hold the air hose in place and increase the pressure in the air bags so the extra weight on the Mercedes' chassis would not be noticeable.

  "If the Germans could camouflage a destroyer as an ordinary tramp steamer then we can disguise this coach.” Peter tried to encourage them.

  The three men even changed the registration plates before being satisfied. When all was completed, Joe drove the disguised coach to the motel where he joined Maria although there was not much left of the night for sleep.

  Slowly Andrew walked back to the motel accompanying Peter. He wondered how his hands would recover from their blisters as he collapsed on the bed and slept in his clothes.

  Week 1

  That Fateful Thursday

  On Thursday morning the moment breakfast was finished, Andrew, Joe, The Commander, the RSM, one Chinese, one Tamil and Peter walked to Bill's office for a Council of War. A Gurkha stood guard and Peter smiled ruefully knowing they would not be disturbed.

  Breathless and fussing about everyone's health, Susie walked in. Before sitting, she had checked that breakfast had been to their tastes. Laughing, she explained that her Italian cook had learnt to share his kitchen with one Tamil and one Chinese and the three had prepared breakfasts for their own contingent. She had left the three of them discussing recipes and exchanging tips.

  "Those guests can stay anytime. They're so polite and thoughtful. A certain husband, here, had better take care else they may be taking me back with them.” She ruffled Bill's hair as she sat beside Peter.

  Even the surprise of her late arrival did not cut into Peter's intense anger and he made his feelings obvious, demanding they attack Dingo and his mob immediately.

  An intense debate followed with everyone vigorously advancing ideas and the volume had risen to an alarming level.

  The calm, confident voice of the RSM halted all disputes. "Peter, in the jungle, it was the patient attack that succeeded. How many times did we attack and completely rout the enemy with no loss of any of our men. You stop and think. Why were we so successful?"

  Awaiting an answer, he paused and stared at Peter before continuing positively. "We must prepare for a battle that will come, and, it will come, make no mistake. These people will not give Jennifer up willingly.

  "We cannot storm their castle.

  "Police would arrive and we would lose men needlessly. Slowly, slowly - surprise and stealth will be our allies.

  "First we must send out our scouts."

  Peter clenched his fists as he rose to interject although instinctively he knew that the RSM was correct.

  The Commander leant across to pull Peter back down to his seat. "Come on Peter be rational. What's the sense in having Jennifer free if you're dead?

  "Your RSM's a military man and is planning a military style operation.

  "The navy says hoist the mainsails, heave to and fire a broadside. Yet we are not at sea so we use camouflage and smokescreens to deceive the enemy.

  "We're aiming at the complete destruction of Dingo. You may be surprised that my conflict with Dingo goes back a long way. I also have some scores to settle so sit and listen to some common sense."

  "But,” Peter tried to interject.

  "But - bloody nothing! Just shut up and listen.” Bill, the ex-naval Commander had lost patience. "You may not be willing to admit it but we are all in this together."

  Methodically the RSM continued. "To succeed, this must be a military style operation. Last night while you and your wicked workman wore out the poor little farmer, Bill, Susie, your two tourists here and I made plans for today.” He nodded at the Tamil and the Chinese trying to lighten the atmosphere. It was imperative that Peter realize they would gain nothing rushing ahead to attack the criminals.

  "Our first sortie will be this afternoon at 2 o'clock. By then Dingo will believe that after receiving that wonderfully kind parcel Peter, in a blind craven panic, has decided to do nothing. Dingo will be expecting no trouble.

  "We'll have a tourist coach full of two platoons of our tourists. One platoon will be Tamil, the other Chinese. This is the first sortie of the war. We'll have an excellent driver, Andrew, and we'll have a charming tourist coach guide in Susie.

  "On the coach will also be our sergeant and two communications specialists. They will enjoy a tour!” He gave a toothy grin showing that he was delighted to reveal the extensive expertise of this little army.

  "The tour will be of Sydney and will include the residential suburb of Hunters Hill. Perhaps a certain mansion will be a focal point of the tour,” and he elaborated on the plan. "It'll be a full afternoon and after returning the tourists to the Motel to change, the coach hostess and the Chinese tourists will be having a Chinese meal at the nightclub, Red Jade. The Tamil platoon will accompany them but, with Andrew, will be investigating the streets and laneways around the nightclub.

  "I'm sure that in spite of Susie's words Bill won't object to Susie dancing at the club with the tourists.” The RSM had a wicked gleam in his eyes. "The driver will return the tourists to the motel late after an evening of exploration, dancing and good food."

  Further discussion was impossible as the shrill jangling of the phone broke into their thoughts.

  "Bill speaking - yes certainly. One moment,” and he beckoned Joe to the phone.

  Terrified that it was bad news, Peter sagged and the fight left him.

  Aware of his distress, Susie slid an arm around his shoulders and she whispered into his ear. "Peter, bear up! The war has started. The surprise attack on Pearl Harbor will be nothing compared to what we'll achieve. No bombs, no collateral damage just a lot of fear and destruction to some unwanted people.” She kissed him on the cheek.

  Breathlessly, still holding the phone but with the mouthpiece covered, Joe announced, "The bastards had a deep water anchorage at the rear of the Hunters Hill mansion and they've taken off in a huge, pleasure craft called 'The Pony Stable'.

  "They're travelling slowly as if showing two Arabs in their national dress the sights of Lane Cove River. A water taxi is following. He asks if there are any suggestions.

  "He told me that a TV news boat is presently dropping the cast of Sydney Harbor Rats at our local yacht club."

  Laughing, he commented, "It must be Italians' day out on the harbor.

  "The master of the boat and the camera men are all part of his family and he knows they're desperately trying to bring Dingo down because of the murder of their young relations.” Joe stopped and looked expectantly around.

  Again, Peter sagged and seemed defeated - feeling all his plans had come to naught.

  Bill took over. "Well, well! Sergeant Major step back, it's time for the Navy to take over!” He considered his expertise was required at last. His grim face showed he was once more The Commander in charge of a naval operation.

  "That's the boat we suspected was being used in drug running, but it was so fast we could never prove a thing. Well now, thanks to Little One Cleansing Company they're about to come adrift.” He laughed heartily knowing how successful they would be. He'd not been a Commander in the navy without having some friends.

  "Joe, radio that water taxi to keep following. Tell that driver to inform the TV news vessel that Commander Bill Williams and party will be passengers in a short while. Yes,” he grinned at Peter, "they know me. No, I was not a film star in Sydney Harbor Rats. I'm far too tall and too ugly.”

  He laughed at Susie's denial.

  "Tell the crew they could be on a huge news scoop but
they are to keep their mouths shut or they'll end up swimming with sharks.” His laughter belied the severity of his words.

  "I was their naval liaison officer. Now Peter and Joe, we're off for a morning on the high seas.” His air of quiet confidence was enough to ease Peter's distress.

  The meeting broke up quietly.

  Susie dropped behind to give Peter a hug and her husband a kiss with the advice. "Be careful, James and I love and need you."

  Andrew and Susie with their two Asian guests quietly made their way back to the motel.

  The Pony Stable crawled its way out of Lane Cover River past the Woolwich headland into the Parramatta River and even more slowly made its way towards Balmain Wharf.

  Two shadows trailed behind.

  The news crew kept their cameras rolling and Peter standing alongside told them he wanted every face visible for his own inspection. However, they were close enough for Peter to recognize Dingo, Pretty Boy and the two Arabs, recognizable only by their dress.

  Peter's knuckles were white with tension as he gripped the rail while he stared at Dingo's boat.

  It took the RSM's words, "Control yourself Little One; this is the Commander's patrol,” to stop Peter from hurling himself overboard in the hope of rescuing Jennifer.

  Waiting on the wharf were some women passengers, one of whom had red hair.

  None too gently, the six men on the wharf herded the women aboard 'The Pony Stable.' Although the bodyguards were rough in the control of the women, they were guarding them most carefully.

  "The bastards aren't going out to sea with those women,” was The Commander's comment. He reached for the radio and tuned into the restricted naval frequency.

  Quietly he spoke into the hand piece. "This is urgent! Put me through to the Fleet Commander's Office. Yes, this is,” turning away, he dropped his voice even lower as if to conceal his plans from the others.

  Eventually he readjusted the frequency and told Joe to send the water taxi to Garden Island to collect two navy divers and their gear.

  His excuse seemed credible. "There are some naval maneuvers and the navy is short of maritime transport. The divers will tell the taxi operator what they want to do but he must be trust worthy and able to keep his mouth shut."