Alice sat looking at Billy Ricker. At first glance one would see a rather tall skinny guy with thin sandy colored hair. He looked good in his dress. The more she looked the better he rose in her handsome book of men. However, he is so shy, she thought. I'd have to make all the moves, but it wouldn't be the first time. Men sometimes were really stupid with women. They couldn't see what was right in front of them. They read too much into what wasn't a really complex, but rather simple action.
Billy sat down his phone, turned on the printer sitting back with his hands behind his head waiting for a ding on his computer telling him he had mail. He looked over at a smiling Alice and got up the nerve to say, "How about after this we forget the pizza and find some nice quiet place for dinner."
''Great idea Billy, but first I'd like to change out of my uniform and take a shower," she said, as a ding went off.
Billy opened the mail and hit print. While it was printing, he said, "Me too, I've been in these clothes all day. Come back and pick me up. I'll leave this print out for Brad." Billy was so excited he didn't even see who the owner of the company in Shanghai was. However, Brad saw it when they arrived back at their temporary housing. He smiled as it was as he suspected.
-7-
Mike Henshaw had made a quick trip to Georgia via a two seat fighter jet out of California's Travis Air Force Base. Brad met him with Alice at the Jacksonville International Airport. That forty minute drive would give Brad and Mike a chance to catch up.
After introductions were made, off they went with Mike yammering a mile a minute about the new housing project between Port Orford and Gold Beach, Oregon for the disabled and widows of military personnel. Mike said, "You know Lisa jumped in with both feet and is assuming command as we speak. She's putting out bids and is talking to a prefab home place near Portland. It appears they have everything a guy needs. She told me that they could have the whole place up and running in a little over a year's time. The infrastructure will take the longest as roads, water lines, power and sewer need put in before sidewalks are poured. It's nice to feel we're doing something really worthwhile. Anyway, enough of that. What are up against and what's your order for me," asked Mike.
Brad recapped the story of the missing cat sub and what had transpired up to this time. Brad said, "I ordered the mother sub, the Vermont, to return and I've word it's in port now with guards surrounding it not letting anyone on or off until we arrive. The cat sub Mike, was attached to the back of the mother sub using J hooks. When the sub surfaced along the South American coast, it was discovered missing. Where it went is anyone's guess. We need to interview each member of the crew. I've everyone standing by waiting for us."
The van went silent as Mike cranked up his good brain. Alice kept looking in the mirror wondering who this new guy was. Sandy sat erect in the passenger seat up front with a seat belt on. The rest of the trip was made in silence.
Once on base, Alice drove directly up to the USS Vermont. Brad and Mike, along with Sandy got out joining the Batt Team waiting on the dock.
Captain Lee Teaton was standing on the dock talking to the Batt Team. He didn't look real happy, but orders were orders. Brad said, as he got out of the van with his hand held out to the captain, "Sorry to keep you waiting captain, but it couldn't be helped. We can facilitate this procedure by escorting your crew into the warehouse where our people will interview each member of your crew. If you will have your crew count off to five then we can have five groups with one of our interviewers. I'll take the officers including your radio man, sonar man and anyone else that is on the command deck.
However, before we begin, I'd like to inspect the brackets that held the cat sub while being transported."
"It's nice to meet you Colonel Pratt. Your reputation precedes you. I'm ordered to comply with any and all requests from you. It will be as you stated with interviews in the warehouse." The captain turned to his exec and said, "Jim, follow the orders of Colonel Pratt. Follow me and watch your step," as they crossed the gangplank to the sub.
Mike went with Brad to inspect the brackets while the rest of the team went to the warehouse to prepare interviews of the crew. Nobody was nervous as they all knew Brad would instruct them as to what questions he wanted answers to. Billy would be out of the loop as he and Alice would continue their research.
Captain Teaton led Brad and Mike to just aft of the conning tower. From the first look both Brad and Mike could see that the short stands that were welded to the ship were very professionally done. On top of the flat steel plate sat a steel ring of heavy gauge metal. The ring would hold one end of the J hook while the other end fastened onto the cat sub. Needless to say, the rings were standing up looking naked. Mike and Brad got down on their knees to look at the underside of the rings for rust or marking. They could see very little markings and also not much rust had occurred.
Brad said, "Captain, let's proceed to the warehouse for interviews." As the captain informed his exec, Brad told his team what he was looking for: mostly any sounds out of the ordinary from usual operation once leaving port. Also, was any of the crew approached by strangers wanting information about where they were going? Did they tell family members the cargo they were carrying?
Desks and chairs were hurriedly placed in the warehouse with Marine guards hustling about carrying out orders. Brad noticed the new security officer was very efficient.
Brad interviewed the captain first. "Captain, did you hear any sounds that weren't normal leaving port for open waters?"
"I've given this a lot of thought Colonel. I can't remember at any time hearing any sounds other than the normal sounds of our sub moving to open water."
"How about when you gave the order to dive," asked Brad.
"We have standard operating procedure leaving Kings Naval Base. When the depth reaches around 100 meters we dive to 50 meters. After the shelf drops off, we take her down to 100 meters."
"At what rate of speed does the sub make leaving the shore line and up until you dive?" asked Brad.
"We make 15 knots leaving the shore and about the same when we dive," answered the captain.
"What do think might have happened to the cat sub captain," asked Brad
"It's not my job to speculate Colonel. I did inspect the brackets before leaving port personally. I shook each one by hand and they seemed strong to me. Of course I'm no superman either, but they were hand tight to say the least. As to where we lost the cat sub and when, are a mystery to me."
"How far offshore were you before you submerged captain," asked Brad.
"I'm not sure exactly, but our records would show that distance clearly. I'd say around 100 klicks from the shore."
"I've looked at the maps of the margin and it shows the Blake Plateau. After you gave the order to submerge, at that time you didn't hear any strange noises," asked Brad.
"No I didn't. At that time we are a little busy with making sure we have done everything needed to make a safe dive. We can hear the sound of water filling our ballast tanks; not much but some. Also the crew is making reports as we go down. Once we level off and all is well, I usually turn over the command to my exec and proceed to my office to make out my report."
"That's all for the present captain. I can't see anyone placing blame on you for a mechanical failure. I'll make sure of that mention in my report to the Navy Secretary," said Brad.
Brad and team went through the entire crew with the same results: nobody heard anything. All was standard operating procedure for the mission south.
Brad and Mike held a two man meeting. He told Mike to locate a submersible and follow the same course the Vermont took on the day the cat sub went below the surface of the Atlantic. Mike understood it was a dive that didn't need publication. He also understood that when he found what Brad was looking for to mark the location by GPS and not a buoy.
**//**
Mr. Chi sat at his desk playing with his jade figurines. He'd received word that Brad Pratt and his team were sticking their nose in where i
t didn't belong. His nose needed cut off once and for all. But how to do that, puzzled Mr. Chi. He had learned from the Chinese President that Pratt used a special Master Chinese for stealth killing. He knew about that sect that did contract jobs for gold. What he needed was someone or some group that wasn't readily known.
Recently he'd heard from a business associate in Brazil about a secret group of antisocial mixed races who claim to put the Ninja to shame. Stealth was the Ninja's trademark. He considered that while rubbing his figurines. Mr. A seemingly hard at work on the computer was actually watching his boss out of the corner of his eye. Mr. A recognized every nuance of his boss after countless years of service.
"Mr. A," said Mr. Chi, "contact our Brazilian friend. I want to know more about a security group that's for hire. I want to know what they can do and how much they want to fulfill a contract hit."
Mr. A looked at Mr. B, who looked at Mr. C and C went to work by leaving the office to pass on the directive. Thirty minutes later his request was granted. A voice on the other end said, "How can I help you sir?"
"I've two questions, one is can you handle multiple contracts where the targets are in the USA; and second how much and what currency. Also, I'll add a third question: What success rate do you have to date?"
"Answer to number one is yes and payment is in gold bullion whereby a currier is sent to retrieve half up front and half when contract is completed. We're rather new at this business, but so far we've had 100% success rate with three out of three. Would you like some time to think about it or would you like to give me the name or names of the intended victims?"
"There's a time limit and you failed to say how much gold you wanted."
"The total number of contract hits determines the amount sir. We charge 100 ounces each name. And what is the time frame?"
"Ten days from tomorrow. There'd be at least seven and I'll send the names forthwith. I know we're on a secure line. The contract is for Brad Pratt and his Batt Team which are currently in Georgia at Kings Naval Base. If we agree then I'll have the required amount waiting for your currier to arrive here."
"That person is on the way now. Also, my team will be in the USA by day after tomorrow with news coming three days later. Thanks for the business sir."
Tony Hodges sat the phone down on his hardwood desk. Across the desk sat his number one, Angness Richoli. Like the rest of his small army, who were of mixed races, Angness resembled an African Asia mix. All of his staff was about the same size: average in both weight and height. In a crowd none would stand out as unique. Tony had been forming, educating and training twenty members to become silent killers second to none.
His camp was located in the high country in the Brazilian state of Para. For the last ten years he'd been grooming his students for killing machines. He'd chosen to take parts of the Japanese and Chinese martial arts and refine into a new form of stealth assassination.
Now he looked up and smiled at Angness. "We hit the lotto Angi. We've a large contract on some Americans. You need to send your sister to Hong Kong to pick up the gold. Have Felix do a check on a Brad Pratt and his Batt Team. I seem to recall the name, but can't place it right now," he said.
"I know about him and his team. He's the right arm of the USA President Sam Bates. They do all his dirty work People disappear and crooked politicians beware. The guy is deadly and so is his wife. There's a recent rumor he stormed two strongholds in Europe leaving over a hundred dead without causality. He also uses the Navy SEALS. Tony, this guy is well connected and extremely well trained by a Chinese Master. I'd say or chances of success are about 40%.
"You've got my attention Angi. This will take some careful planning. Meanwhile, get your sister moving and I'll head for the mountains. I need to see how our fighters are doing."
The quickest way between two places is a straight line. Tony had a Bell helicopter for just such needs. The road to the camp was terrible and fraught with vehicle holdups and bandits. As they lifted off, he thought back ten years when he first began this business.
Originally he was an independent contractor. His fee increased as his reputation as a guaranteed hit man also increased. Soon his bank account reached the seven figure range. It was time to branch out and set the standard for the ultimate in discreet human removal.
It all started for Tony back in his days of being a Special Forces instructor. Tony always wanted to be the best and once the body was fit, the mind was next to perform feats similar to the Japanese ninja; or Samurai. A ninja's advantage was his ability to use stealth in the cover of darkness. It goes without saying that proficiency with weapons was tantamount in the physical sense, but a truly trained and enlightened mind was superior to most weapons. If you combined both, a deadly machine was born.
For Tony, he was stuck training and not developing his mental abilities. He resigned his commission and moved to Japan to study the ninja ways. His hero was Hattori Hanzo, probably the most famous of all Samurai. The hard part was learning the language. However, he caught on quick and after two years, could carry on a fairly good conversation. It was then he immersed his body and mind into the ninja and Samurai way of life.
The first thing he learned was respect for his elders. Once he learned and then practiced it, he won the respect of the older teachers of the temple where he lived. He lost weight, but became faster.
He could never forget his culture and his upbringing, but instead of casting it aside, he merged the two to form his own unique personality. The family he left behind in the states soon became a distant memory. His parents thought he'd gone off the deep end. His old friends both felt envy and pity for him.
The years passed and he soon became one with his goal: a carbon copy of his hero Hattori [Oni] Hanzo. He so wanted to adopt the nickname, Oni, after his mentor, but he kept that desire to himself.
On a fine spring day, a four wheel drive vehicle came to the temple. For Tony this was the first time in more than five years that he saw a vehicle of any sort. The village still used water buffalo and carts to transport needed items for their meager life. The head priest bowed to the passenger and led him into the temple while a flock of students looked on with curiosity. Tony shrugged his shoulders and went about his business: practicing movements while mentally reaching out to a level of vision not seen but to a few.
In his distant state of mind, he heard his name being called. Slowly he came back to the present time seeing a fellow student pointing at the temple. He heard he was being summoned to the head priest's office. Tony jogged up the hill and into the temple. His bare feet made no sound as he walked across the marble floor to the priest's office. The door was open and he quietly tapped on the door bowing to the priest and to his guest.
The guest remained anonymous but Tony could see he was a very important person. However, he didn't know until much later whether or not he was a politician or businessman. As it turned out, he was both.
The priest closed the door and sat down on the floor with a small wooden table between him and his guest. Tony was gestured to sit down. The priest poured him some tea and said, "Bushi, our guest has a problem that requires our help. It's been many years since we've been asked to perform our way of life to help where others fail. Our guest here has a name of a person he wants eliminated; quietly and without a trace to either him or us. I informed our guest that you were the best of our best. Additionally, your command of English will help. After completion of the contract I want you to fly to Africa. Monrovia, Liberia is your destination. From there you'll be transported by vehicle to a camp in the mountains in Bomi. The residents are a tribal people with the name of Vai. You'll be greeted by Varney who'll take care of you. Your job is to train some special males who are part of the Poro society. The Poro are a secret group that will provide you with another form of thinking to add to your already source of knowledge. Now, Oni, after you think a group of ten is in need of further training, you and your team will be flown to Brazil. Details will follow if you're successful with this
assignment.
Gather what personal items you want and ride back with our guest to his city. He'll give you the necessary information and a passport with adequate funds to complete you assignment. Go in peace my son."
Toni smiled thinking back to when his mentor called him Oni, as the chopper continued its rhythmic beating of the air. He couldn't count the times he flashed back on that day or opportunity. The next joy was when he found his mate Angness Richoli in the arms of his intended victim. She was a victim of human trafficking. Later she told him that she had been kidnapped at the age of 14 from Vietnam. She'd no idea who her parents were as she was being kept by a white man who gave her his name, Richoli. One day some Asians came and took her away to Japan.
When Oni had located his target, he chose the time with care. His mark came home each day at the same time. For two weeks he watched him come and go. On each Saturday night another car would arrive and leave just a few minutes later. Then on Sunday afternoon it returned and left just as quickly as before. Toni guessed correctly that a female was being delivered to him for the weekend.
He chose the second Saturday night for his mission. Even though the mark had an adequate security system for most bad guys, Toni slipped in without making a sound. He found his target in a large bedroom upstairs of a large two story house. He could hear sounds of talking, but first he checked the upstairs for any staff or family. He found nobody around except the mark. The door was slightly ajar so he cautiously scanned the room. On a futon lay two people naked with only a handful of candles burning around the room.
Classified: Missing Cat-Sub Page 4