by John Day
Sarah smiled at the thought of the characters in the film and wondered which fitted Walter best. “Yes, a load of crooks and misfits thrown together on a suicide mission. Isn’t that right?”
“Pretty much!” Walter grinned at her interpretation.
Getting more comfortable, Walter continued, his voice distant as he mentally transported himself back in time.
“There were 10 of us, all off books operatives. There were also local people, who had their reasons for getting their own back on Saddam Hussain. They helped us to locate and carry off the valuable artefacts into the desert where we buried them. The UK government collected the hoard later.
“That part went well, but then we were told about the golden doors...”
“What?” Exclaimed Sarah, “I have never heard of them.”
“It was believed to have been a myth, but I actually saw an enormous pair of practically solid gold doors being finished, in a Bagdad workshop.
“One of the locals helping us told me that the project to manufacture the doors had started years previously and because of Saddam’s hold over everyone, no special precautions were taken to guard the doors.
“They were destined for his palace and were to replace the existing ornate timber and steel ones at the front entrance. I soon discovered how safe the doors were, hidden away in this perfectly ordinary, large building. Then the war started and work stopped on the doors.
“They each measured 1.5m wide, 3.5m high and would be 15cm thick. As you can tell, no one would have been able to lift them, let alone carry them away. As I said, they were being finished.
“At some stage, the gold had been cast as a front and a back in 2.5cm thick panels. The outer faces had been moulded to look like they had been carved.
“The workers had produced the fine detail with tools and polished it. Somehow, the two faces would be spaced apart by a gold frame, and bolted together as a single leaf of the pair of doors.
“When we saw what was underneath those dusty covers, we all decided to steal the doors and cut them up, keeping a share each. We managed to cart off the pieces in broad daylight, over several days, on a flatbed truck, and buried them out in the desert.
“Somehow, an American force got wind of what we were doing and followed us. There was a shootout and only four of us survived. We all agreed to meet up a year or so later after extraction.
“It was then that things took a bad turn. The other three operatives died in a series of unrelated accidents. I decided to vanish from the face of the earth. I suspected my friends were murdered to keep the UK mission secret…
Walter and Ellen.
Walter knew in his heart that Ellen and Alan would be dead by now, it was inconceivable the U-159 was still afloat. He continued the story to satisfy Sarah’s curiosity and ease his feeling of personal loss. This brief stroll down memory lane was cathartic, under the circumstances. Few people would realise how sensitive and caring the tough guy was, deep down.
With a deep sigh, Walter continued his story. “It was then that I met Ellen. Not the most likely place to fall in love, late at night, in the pouring rain, at a shopping mall car park.
“I had placed my shopping in my car boot and slammed it shut. She swung into the space behind me like a stunt driver. I just managed to leap out of the way as she stopped, inches from my bumper.
“I saw the frightened look on her beautiful face and all my anger just melted away.
“Seconds later, as she was scrambling out of her car, a black saloon skidded to a halt, blocking her exit. She ran off between cars and one of the men gave chase. The driver drove away to head her off.
“For all I knew, they might have been police detectives, but before I realised it, I was chasing after her with the intention of intervening. I just had to know who she was, I wanted to protect her.
“After all the years I have known her, nothing has changed, I still ‘need’ to look out for her.
“The driver got ahead of her. She hesitated, deciding which direction to take. Her pursuer grabbed her and pulled her to the ground.
“I laid him out between cars. Then the driver came at me and I sent him to sleep alongside.
“Ellen was extremely grateful when I helped her up. She told me the man was armed and had already shot at her. She had lost her shoes, but it didn’t stop her from stamping on the gunman’s genitals.
“I heard myself saying ‘Ouch!’ at the thought of the sea of pain he would be in, when he woke up.”
Sarah laughed. “Good one Ellen!”
Walter smiled. “When she started crying, acting the frightened little girl syndrome, I knew I was hooked.
“Ellen demanded. Help me drag them to their car. I need to find out who sent them to kill me.
“Any normal person would have run for it or called the police, but not her, and she was involving me in her mystery.”
Sarah was spell bound.
Walter switched hands on the pump and continued with the story, his eyes somewhat distant, from recollection.
“A couple of late shoppers drove by and when it was quiet again, I dragged the two men by their coat collars and shoved them in a heap on the back seat of their car.
“Ellen adjusted the driver’s seat and shouted for me to ride shotgun. At that point I knew I was being played. She had the ice cold emotionless attitude of a psychopathic killer. I should know, I have worked with people like that.
“Who the heck was this mad woman? I had my own secrets and I needed them to stay that way. Now I was an accomplice to kidnapping alleged killers!
“I suppose I knew she would drive off with them, with or without me. Then I would never know who she was. I must have been insane, but like a halfwit lackey, I did as I was told.”
Sarah knew the manipulative power and charm of the woman. Hell, they were all under her spell, and they loved it.
Walter smiled to himself as he recalled his uncharacteristic obedience.
He continued. “Ellen glided serenely out of the car park and headed to the industrial area.
“She spoke to me like she was in charge, and I suppose she was.
“She demanded. What’s your name?”
“Just call me Walt, what’s yours?” But she just ignored me.
“She fixed me with a glare and issued her next order. Search Mr Balls-ache, he has a gun with a silencer, perhaps the driver has one as well.
“I would normally have checked for weapons, but I am ashamed to say, somehow my brains had deserted me. I leaned over the seat and patted them down. She was right, one Glock and a nasty looking flick knife, between them.
“I just have to ask. What are you planning on doing with them?”
“She glared at me like I was an imbecile. I think she was right. Now I was physically close to her, I just knew I was infatuated. She had given me a pheromonal lobotomy.
“I told you Walt, I want to know who wants me dead. Keep up!”
Sarah grimaced. She wanted to say, “Ellen’s a bitch.” She thought better of it, Walter would take it badly.
Walter saw her expression, he understood her meaning, but chose to ignored it. “I asked her just how she proposed to do that.
“Another glare from her said it all. I expect you to do whatever it takes to find out.
“I just shrugged, it seemed to be all I am good for. Everyone expected me to do their dirty work for them. I was about to object but then she turned on her charm. Bitch!” There, Walter thought, I said it for you Sarah.
“It was the soft, silky voice this time. You know the one, don’t you Sarah?
“She purred at me… I’m sorry Walt, please forgive me. My name is Ellen Fox, how can I ever repay you for saving my life?
“I must admit, one thought sprang to mind, but as I learned later, that was never going to happen.” He gave Sarah a warm, knowing smile.
“You could start by telling me what you know about these characters, Ellen.
“Even her name seemed so magical just the
n.
“Then she said icily, you know as much as I do, but know this, someone is paying them to kill me and now they are going to pay the ultimate price.
“I knew by the way she said it, they would be on an autopsy table, very soon.”
Sarah interrupted, disbelief showed in her voice.
“Ellen is a remarkably charismatic woman, I grant you that, but you are a strong masculine type, not some star struck teenager, how could she influence you?”
“Have you ever been infatuated Sarah?”
“No, because I am not weak minded. I like, even love, but I see people as they are. They have no power over me.”
As he worked, Walter smiled at her and considered his reply. “I am not certain if I am pleased or sorry for you, Sarah. Infatuation is as illogical as deep love, but much more powerful. It is also very one sided. I have always known Ellen sees me as a devoted friend and she uses me more than she has any right to. I just don’t care! I just want to please her and be with her. I don’t even care if she takes a lover, I am not the slightest bit jealous.”
Sarah smiled back at Walter. The smile expressed her incomprehension for his feelings, but she wished there was someone like that in her life. Alan sprang to mind, and she knew he still loved her, but not in the romantic way anymore. She was convinced she had destroyed that.
Sarah wanted to know what happened next in Walter’s story.
“What did you find out from the two men, Walter? Who was trying to murder Ellen?”
“According to Mr Balls-ache, it appears Ellen was blackmailing a prominent public figure and he decided to terminate the endless payments she demanded. I thought the matter would finish there, but I was mistaken.
“Ellen knew her days were numbered, if not by this victim and his hired hit men, then by some other. I then realised how deadly she is. Be warned, never cross Ellen. She is a psychopath and normal people cannot comprehend how the minds of people like that work. People just think they are evil, despicable people and for them, perhaps they are right.
“We had stopped the car of course, to persuade our passengers to tell all. She carefully held the gun in a paper tissue, released the ammunition clip and slipped out all the remaining bullets. We all watched her, wondering what she was messing about at. She wouldn’t say, she ignored us. She rolled the bullets about in the tissue and handed the clip and bullets back to the gun man.
“She ordered him to put the bullets back in. I realised then what she had in mind, well, not all of it, as it turned out. The bemused man slowly and reluctantly fitted them and she took the clip back, still handling it in the tissue. The man realised he had put his prints over everything. He panicked and I had to send him back to sleep.
“She restarted the car and drove for a while to Windsor and then stopped at a call box. She made a brief phone call. Off we went again and drove to a big house. Whoever lived there had real money.
“Ellen left the car and rang the front door bell. She went in and after a few minutes, came running out, without the gun. We drove to waste ground and she ordered the men to get into the front seats. They became difficult to handle now and I had to quieten them. She told me to start walking and call a taxi, she would follow.
“I admit, I wondered what she was going to do, but decided not to ask. Not that she would have said, anyway.
“She caught me up a few minutes later and we waited for the taxi to arrive.
“Then there was a distant explosion and the sky over the buildings behind us lit up with flame. I wanted to believe the men had escaped and destroyed the car to hide their DNA. It was most probably a stolen car.
“The taxi took us back to our cars and after she gave me her phone number, we went for a drink at a pub near her flat.”
Sarah frowned. “That’s it? Is that the end of the story?”
Walter paused for a moment to check the clarity of the fuel he was still pumping out. He seemed pleased with the result. He grabbed the coffee and glugged some down.
“Several things happened. The morning news reported the shooting of the man she visited in Windsor, and the death of two men in a burned-out car.
“Later, it turned out that forensics proved the gun belonged to one of the dead men and they must have murdered the man in Windsor. They traced phone calls between parties, so it was conclusive.
Ellen continued to let me take her out and I became her minder. Just as you see it now.
“After getting to know her better, I asked if she knew anyone who could fence gold. I needed money and there were gold doors buried in the desert. She made enquiries and in comes Benny, stage right.
“To cut a long story short, because I am nearly done here, someone had been there and taken the doors. I was just left with the bits that held the face parts together, I had buried those in a different spot. We managed to sell the gold for $10million split three ways.
“So now you know all about Ellen, me, and how we met the loveable Benny Markowitz.”
Sarah’s head reeled from the story. How could Walter stay with Ellen?
She had no time to mull over the situation though, a bigger challenge now faced her and Walter. Could they save Alan and Ellen?
Die trying.
Walter stopped pumping and became animated. “I think we can start the engine in a few moments, as soon as we pour the filtered fuel back in the main tank. We are not finding any contaminant now.” He quickly assembled the fuel line while Sarah poured the filtered diesel back into the fuel tank.
A yell from Walter commanded Benny to start the engine. The agitated Russian scuttled off to the controls and cranked the engine. After six turns, the motor clattered into life and as Benny eased the throttle open, it roared faultlessly. Walter listened to the welcome sound and took several gulps of the refreshing brew. By now, it had gone quite cold out there in the wind.
Benny suddenly felt panicky, the moment had come when he would be forced to act.
Sarah climbed out of the engine well, stretched the kinks out of her back and downed her mugful of cold coffee, in one go.
Walter heaved the deck covers into place and felt reassured, the engine note became muffled and normal. It was time to chase after the submarine.
Walter bellowed a command. “Sarah, pull up the anchor will you, we are heading out straight away for Alan and Ellen.”
This is it, thought Benny, it’s now or never. Once we pass through the gap in the reef, I won’t be able to navigate back. He knew his limitations in boatmanship.
Frantically he looked around for a suitable weapon. He preferred a blunt instrument, just in case he needed Walter alive. He might have to use a knife ultimately, but he couldn’t imagine having the courage to sneak up behind the man and stab him in the back. Anyway, that raised the question of precisely where to stab?
It is easy to believe a jab in the back with a kitchen knife will be fatal, but unless it strikes a vital organ… Walter was just as likely to pull it out, and stick it in him. No, a good whack on the head is a safer bet.
While Benny hunted for a suitable club, the anchor was on the way up. The purring diesel engine changed into a scream and the catamaran sliced through the waves, heading for the opening to the sea. In despair, Benny peered through a window and realised he was too late, Lady Jane was about to slip through the narrow breach in the reef.
Seconds later, the movement of the hull confirmed they were now at sea. The waves were higher and far apart. The pitching was violent and, terrified, he clung on to the fixed table for support.
At that point, Benny changed his plan. He would have to sit tight until Walter decided U-159 had sunk, then Lady Jane would return them to the safety of the shore.
Sarah had returned to the bridge and could now help Walter. “Sarah, all those pale green blips on the radar-scope are cresting waves, but amongst them will be a constant blip and that is where we need to head towards. That will be the conning tower on the U-159. I must concentrate on the waves and maintain a safe course. Will yo
u help me?”
“Yes, of course Walter, I will tell you when I see the sub.”
To add to the problem of finding the swamped submarine, the daylight was fading fast. Minutes later, the sunlight through the black menacing clouds had dropped below the horizon. It was now night time.
Walter needed more help. “Benny, can you come up here please,” With reluctance the cowering Russian staggered across the pitching deck like a drunk down an ascending escalator, grabbing from support to support, until he entered the bridge.
“What do you need me to do, Walter?”
Walter flicked a switch and a powerful beam of light stabbed the darkness. Rain and spray momentarily flashed white, as it passed through the intense light.
“Take the lever that directs the searchlight. I need to be sure I am not about to ram another boat, or the sub. Sweep the beam from side to side, starting close to the bow and moving further away.”
Benny mumbled something, Walter grabbed him by his shirt collar and dragged him forcibly into position.
The light swept wildly and Walter suggested. “Think what you are doing Benny. Look at what the beam is revealing and concentrate.
“If you fail to see something and we hit it, it will be entirely your fault, you will have killed us all. I am watching the waves so we don’t capsize. Sarah is watching the radar. So, if you want to survive, do your job.”
Benny was suddenly most thorough and was the first to spot the U-159 an hour later. As they closed on the wreck, Walter wondered how on earth it had managed to survive the endless pounding along the side, without capsizing.
The violent change in list from port to starboard, as it passed over the wave crest and down out of sight into the trough, defied belief. The fact that only three pairs of flotation bags remained explained why the stern was below the sea and the bow had lifted.
The waves usually broke over the bags and rained down onto the deck as though from a waterfall. However, when the stern swung into the rising wave, sea washed up the deck and smashed over the raised gun deck behind the conning tower. The white explosion of spray shot high in the air.