Finding Linda

by Ron Sewell

  Rono fell silent, snatched an AK47, and a dozen loaded magazines. These he strapped together with tape in pairs. “Any grenades?”

  Taruq handed him a full box. “Enough?”

  Khaled kept his eyes on the sea. “You are right; a wire around our propellers is not a good idea. I will go down the middle of the four lines. My men will fire the RPGs at or into the rafts. You keep the enemy’s heads down.”

  “You’re the driver but may I recommend full speed and an erratic course. The wash from this thing should drown a few.”

  Khaled laughed. “You read my mind.”

  Rono slammed a full magazine into his AK. “Time to dropkick their arses over the bar.” He carried the box of grenades and spare ammunition to the bow.

  “You forgot something,” shouted Khaled as he tossed a grey flak jacket forward. “It might save your life.” He forced the throttles of both engines hard down and circled towards the tail end rafts. “As soon as you see those bastards, smash them.”

  The gap closed fast.

  At two hundred metres astern of the rafts four RPGs fired and Rono’s AK erupted in automatic.

  At twenty-eight knots, Desert Wind charged. Rockets, grenades and AK fire raked the rubber craft. Rono had been right; the bow wave swamped those nearest. Men floundered and disappeared. As they approached the end of the line, RPGs struck the towboats. Flames flickered illuminating the night as petrol tanks burst, burning, and men screamed.

  Fuelled with a surge of adrenalin Khaled spun the boat. Again, at full power the craft stormed along the line of destruction. Men floundering in the water became mincemeat in its twin propellers. Two rafts somehow remained afloat and a few men fired at the speeding craft. Concentrated AK fire from Khaled’s men changed the sea into a bloody cemetery.

  Rono, with blood soaking his shirt, ran aft. “You win but for fuck’s sake get the hell out of here.”

  With the laughter of a lunatic, Khaled veered the craft to starboard and raced into the night. At twenty miles from the carnage, he stopped the engines and glided into the still waters of an inlet. As the anchor bit into the rocky seabed, the craft slowed to a halt.

  “We did it,” said Khaled. “And like Muhammad Ali I am the greatest.”

  With a fresh bandage on his lower arm, Rono stared at him. “You’re a fucking idiot, but you got away with it. If one man on those rafts had taken his time to aim we would have been in deep shit.”

  Khaled shut his eyes for a moment. “I did my duty and destroyed the enemies of my country. I intend to remain at anchor until our friend passes and then at a discreet distance we follow.” His eyes glanced at the trickle of blood seeping through the bandage. “You are bleeding.”

  “It’s a deep cut. I slipped when you twirled this boat on its arse.”

  ***

  Antarah Hasan could not believe what he was seeing with his own eyes. Explosions and continuous gunfire had raked the boats carrying Isis soldiers. His mind raced. Twice through no fault of his own, he had failed those in command. Failure meant death. One chance remained and this time there would be no mistakes.

  “Captain, alter course for Algeciras.”

  “I can have the boats lowered to hunt for survivors.”

  Antarah hesitated. “We have no facilities to treat the wounded. We will pray for Allah to accept them as martyrs.”

  Barre nodded, strolled to the automatic chart and programmed the route to Algeciras. On completing the changes, he gave the order to alter onto the planned course.

  Concerned, he checked other vessels on the radar. None appeared out of place but he tracked them for a while. ***

  Away from the bridge, Antarah texted his commander.

  As-salam alaykum. The men from Sirte did not arrive. I have another mission. I gave the order to leave the area. He sent the message, replaced the SIM card with another. Tired, he crawled onto his bunk. Sleep did not come easy.

  ***

  Of the vessels tracked, each continued its course. Captain Barre rubbed his eyes and decided enough for one night. Whoever stormed those rafts did it in a high-speed vessel. Maybe it was a Government Navy ship. At the time, his vessel remained in international waters and was not under suspicion. He smiled in the knowledge this job would end in four days.

  21

  The Rock Hotel, Gibraltar

  The morning sun shone through the polished glass of the hotel balcony doors and roused Linda. It was eight o’clock, the time she awoke each day. Naked, she glanced at the handsome young man beside her.

  She had first noticed him in the Blue Cat Bar on Main Street but he did not make eye contact. He drank his beer and left. She needed him, not for keeps, to play with, and she always got what she wanted. An hour later, he returned, stood next to her at the bar and ordered a beer.

  Sometimes you meet a person and you click. It’s as if you have been with them your whole life and you do not have to pretend. She grinned as she called to mind the shock on his face when she said, “Do you want to fuck me?”

  He looked at her, smiled but did not answer. With a few large gulps, he finished his beer and turned to face her. “Your place or mine?”

  Sex with him gave her multiple climaxes. He teased and made her lust for more. She strolled to the bathroom, brushed her teeth, showered and dressed in her tracksuit. Outside the hotel, she stretched before beginning her dash to Europa Point and back.

  On entering her darkened room, he stirred. She glanced at him, his face lit by a shaft of sunlight. “Fancy a shower? I want you to scrub my back.”

  He noticed the sweat stains on her tracksuit . “Where have you been?”

  “Out running, my morning exercise.”

  “After your antics my body aches in places it shouldn’t.”

  She laughed. “Are you going to wash my back or not?”

  He joined her in the shower. With warm water spraying over them, he washed her back. She shivered as his hands stroked her breasts and wandered to her slender waist and boyish hips. He explored her body and pushed again those secret buttons. They made love under a cascade of warm water.

  Later she ordered breakfast in her room for two people. As she placed her glass of fresh orange juice on the balcony table she asked, “What’s your name?”

  “Does it matter?”

  “You asked Harry, the barman at the Blue Cat.”

  “Right in one. It’s Stephen, Stephen Harrison. I’ve hired the rather large red yacht in the marina for a month. Can I see you again?”

  She sipped her juice. “It's a free world and I have a drink or two in the Blue Cat most evenings.”

  He smiled. “I often discover one night stands are a turn off, but I’d love to see you again.”

  “What if I told you I’m a lesbian?”

  “So what attracted you?”

  “I can’t answer that question. But you scratched an itch I could not reach.”

  He finished dressing. “Will you ignore me if we meet again?”

  She smiled. “Wait and see.”

  Stephen shook his head and left.

  ***

  Dressed in white shorts and T-shirt, Linda ran her hands over her body. There was nothing wrong with her twenty–nineyear-old figure. Time I enjoyed my life but first I must resolve a problem. From a bedside drawer she lifted her other mobile and dropped it into her bag.

  A warm breeze wafted through the trees in the hotel garden. The late morning sun reflected off a calm sea as she started her stroll. She stopped at the side of the lighthouse and read the brass plaque.

  Europa Point Lighthouse standsat the southernmost point of Gibraltar.Situatedat the gateway between the AtlanticandtheMediterranean itserves aslandfalland waypoint for vessels passing through the Strait. Responsibilityforthelighthousewas vestedinTrinity House byan Act of Parliament of1838and underthe Merchant ShippingAct 1894 the Corporation became the General LighthouseAuthorityfor Gibraltar.

  “ Everything changes,” she muttered. She had decided that this was her last j
ob. Her priority was to prepare for a new life where she did not have to glance over her shoulder. She tried to recall where so much money had gone. There were houses in Paris, Rome and Cairo, none of them safe anymore.

  She pressed buttons on her mobile. It rang four times before she cancelled the call and rang again. This time a man answered. “I must speak to Antarah Hasan.”

  With her hand covering her mouth, she stifled a yawn. “Are you still there?” asked Antarah.

  “I rang you remember. Where’s my ship?”

  “We are on passage to Algeciras. Can you confirm you have made the arrangements for our arrival?”

  “I guarantee everything is ready. Make sure my fee is in my bank by tomorrow.” She gave him the details. “If you fail, you can go fuck yourself.”

  Relaxed, Linda leant back against the red and white tower of the lighthouse. A thought crossed her mind, now was a good time to change direction. Yet, twenty million dollars made a perfect retirement fund.

  “You can’t threaten Isis.”

  “Why not? The world wants to destroy you. For this attack, you need me. If I do a runner, you’re dead meat hanging on a hook. Pay me or the game ends.”

  “This is not a game.”

  She ended the call and removed the SIM card. For the next two days, she must be extra cautious. Stephen Harrison met her needs. His sexuality and antics in bed made for a perfect hideaway. In a buoyant mood she set a fast pace as she speed-walked into town ending her journey at the Marina cafe. At a table overlooking the water she ordered coffee and cake. She picked at the cake and examined the one red yacht in the marina. For no clear reason her mind drifted back to Danny. She had loved the sound of her name when she called out in the midst of lovemaking. The dark mist cloaked her and the deep wound festered. A shadow blanked out the sun and interrupted her thoughts.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I thought I’d take a peek at your big red boat. Can you sail?”

  “Silly question.”

  “No, it’s not. You could be a poser and rented the boat to lure unsuspecting young girls onboard.”

  “Young girls, never. I prefer the don’t yell and don’t tell women. Someone like you. Last night you demanded sex with no complications. I obliged.”

  “And you enjoyed every minute. If you sail like you fuck, I’m ready.”

  He laughed. “Why are you still sitting in that chair?” They ran along the wooden pontoon to the yacht.

  “Linda, sit in the cockpit and stay out of my way.” She smiled. “Is this the engine start button?” He nodded.

  She cast off the forward and aft mooring ropes and tested the engine controls. With an air of bravado, she reversed out of the berth. Stephen laughed, stood and gripped the starboard mainstay.

  “You know how to handle a boat.”

  She peered into his eyes. “I have an affinity with the sea. Most of the time we are friends.”

  As they cleared the harbour, Stephen hoisted the foresail and then the main.

  She glanced at his broad shoulders down to his thin but muscular body. He was great fun, but she couldn’t love a man and that made everything they did pure sex. She thought of Danny and her heart broke a little more. Her thoughts were more complex than plain simple revenge. She needed Isis to feel the pain of failure. Her eyes became watery as she stared toward the horizon.

  “Penny for them?”

  “Thinking of a friend. I love the sea, the gentle wind as it fills the sails, and the sun as it warms my back.”

  The red hull skipped across the white crested waves. Seagulls wheeled overhead, carried by the ocean breeze. A line of dark blue marked the curve of the horizon.

  For two days, they sailed, anchored off the Spanish coast and sated their passion. On the morning of the third day, the sun filtered through the clouds and into the boat’s cabin. It signalled the end. Today’s arrival was, as the tides ebb and flow, unstoppable.

  She wrapped an arm around his shoulders and pulled him to her. She sunk into the warmth of his body. Streaks of sunlight penetrated the salt-coated window. For two days, she had avoided the real world but now it was coming to an end.

  His arm fell over her. “Don’t go. We can stay here all day.”

  A hint of regret formed on her lips. “I have important business to complete in Gibraltar.” She pulled on her crumpled white shorts, T-shirt and sandals. A quick check confirmed her mobile and purse were still there. She had played the game for so long she found it difficult to be herself. She was the pirate, or she adapted to roles so well she became that person. People saw her as she wanted them to see her. The young girl she had been, the one who had fights with boys, no longer existed. “You brew the coffee and I’ll start the engine. It’ll be quicker if we motor back.”

  “Let’s have one more day and then I’ll take you back.” Naked, he crawled out of the bed.

  She had not slept well but a smile spread across her face. “I’m tempted but no. By the end of the week someone else will be in your bed, and that wicked tongue of yours should carry a danger notice.”

  He placed the cup of coffee next to her. “Will I see you again?”

  She shook her head. “No.”

  The coldness in her voice hurt. “I respect your bluntness. I’ll miss you.”

  “A blonde with big tits or brunette with a nice arse will erase me forever from your mind. It’s often easier to pretend the past never happened.”

  With a flair, she eased the craft into its berth and stopped the engine. Without another word, she leapt onto the pontoon and ran towards the shore. Once on solid ground she glanced back, but he had disappeared. She shrugged and strolled to her new bank.

  Linda experienced high spirits as she entered the Nat West Offshore Limited offices. The entrance foyer was claustrophobic, with a white marble floor. To one side, and above the tellers, a row of clocks showed the time in every major city.

  She sauntered to the nearest desk where a sign stated, Assistant Finance Manager.

  A young, sandy-haired man with acne seemed almost in a trance as he studied a pile of documents. He raised his head and on seeing a dark-haired woman wearing crumpled clothes, pointed. “Withdrawals over there.”

  Calm, she seated herself and rested her elbows on his desk. “I must check my account. If you’re too busy, I’ll talk to my friend, Mr Devereaux.”

  At the mention of the executive’s name, the man’s mood transformed. “My apologies. I have this presentation to complete.”

  She tantalised him with her eyes as if he were the most handsome man in the world. “I’m expecting an addition to my account. If you can, please check the balance.”

  “Your account number please.”

  She recited the fifteen-digit number. He stood and in a pleasant manner asked her to input her private code. He stood with his back to her.

  The screen blanked for a few seconds until it showed.

  Escort the holder of this account to the executive lounge.Inform the senior finance director atonce. “Access to your account must be by a senior manager. Will you please come with me?”

  She followed him to a lift, and he motioned for her to enter. “This will take you to God’s country.” He pressed an unmarked button, the doors slid shut, and the car ascended. She studied the monitor, but it gave no hint to its destination.

  When the doors opened, Mr Devereaux stood there waiting. Linda strolled forward. He grabbed her hand and shook it with a strong grip before leading her along a carpeted passage. His electronic card accessed the one door at the end. “Can I offer you refreshment? Tea, coffee or a soft drink?”

  She perched on the edge of a large armchair. “I’d rather discuss my account.”

  “I understand, Ms Lee. Yesterday a large amount entered your account.”

  She nodded. “Twenty million American dollars.”

  He strolled behind his desk and took a cigarette from a gold box. “Do you mind?”

  “I do.”

  He
replaced the cigarette back in the box. “How can I assist you?”

  She crossed her legs and leant back in the chair. “We can help each other. I don’t want certain people to know my financial situation. That way they can’t find me. Can you create ten different password-protected accounts? I'll need a line of credit to a bank in the Cayman Islands in favour of Mrs Valerie Webster.”

  He closed his eyes and exhaled. “We will use a variety of offshore funds. I can arrange that each one pay its dividend to a bank in Bermuda. After a month, this will return to a secure deposit account in this bank for onward dispatch to the Caymans. There would be a charge for this service.”

  She stood. “Your job is to make it happen. Can you do it? Yes or no?”

  “We can do anything if we have the funds available. Five percent on the balance and ten percent on the interest should suffice. I will deal with this myself.”

  “I’ll be at your front door at four, at which time I will examine, read and if it’s acceptable, sign the contract.”

  He escorted her to the lift. “I welcome the prospect of a long partnership.”

  She entered, turned, stared at him and blinked as the doors shut. “Arsehole.”

  ***

  Linda sauntered up to the hotel reception and spoke to a manager. “Could you complete my account?”

  The pleasant young male receptionist smiled. “You’re leaving! Is there a problem with the hotel?”

  “Business calls. My CEO has insisted I attend a meeting in Spain.”

  “I will credit your account with the balance remaining.”

  She stared into his eyes. “As much as I love this hotel it may be difficult.”

  He pressed the keys to print her credit note. He handed her the printed sheet of paper. “This is valid for twelve months.”

  She shoved it into her short’s pocket. “Thank you.” With her account settled, she could leave when she wanted. ***

  With her luggage, Linda, wearing sandals, and dressed in jeans and a yellow T-shirt strolled out of the hotel. On descending the marble steps, she checked the time, three thirty. At a steady pace, she strolled to the bank and stood at the main door. On the stroke of four, she poked the intercom button. A few seconds later Mr Devereaux opened the door. “Punctuality is a virtue, Ms Lee.”