by Julian Noyce
“Take a look at this,” Dennis offered the binoculars to the American, “Somebody has got some money.”
“It looks like another research ship. Much newer than this one. That looks like a military helicopter.”
“It is. It’s British. To be precise a Lynx gunship that the British army and navy use.”
“Army and navy eh?” Hutchinson said to himself, “It also looks new. Can they be bought privately?”
“They can if you have the right connections.”
Ali checked the other ship’s position on the radar. The printer suddenly went into action as it printed the results. He tore the flimsy off and read it. He then re-read it and handed it to Hutchinson who put the binoculars down. Hutchinson read the print out but it didn’t make much sense to him. Ali could see that the American was struggling with it. Ali pointed to the co-ordinates and then showed Hutchinson on the chart. His finger was directly over a red x.
“Are you sure?”
Ali nodded.
Hutchinson glanced at Dennis, then out at the ship.
“What is it Jim?”
“That ship is anchored directly over the site our team dived on this morning. Are you sure you told no one else?”
“Just everyone who reads the magazine.”
“Well somebody has seen the article, clearly. Radio Natalie. This has just become a race against time.”
Dennis could tell Hutchinson was furious. He could hear it in his voice as he listened to the American over the two way radio. He picked the binoculars up and searched the ship again and was able to read the name on the prow.
“Wave crest,” he said quietly.
Then a chill went through him. He leaned his elbows on the window ledge to stop the slight shaking of his hands. There it was. No mistaking it. Behind the ’T’ on the word crest was a skull and what was strange, there was something very familiar about it.
Dennis was about to put the binoculars down when a glint caught his eye. He focused on the ’Wave crest’ bridge. Somebody was doing exactly as he was. Staring down binoculars straight at him. The man on the other ship was wearing a white suit. Slowly he lowered his binoculars and Dennis also saw white hair and a reddish face. Like the skull’s head there was something strangely familiar about him. Then the figure turned and vanished from sight. Dennis continued looking through the binoculars for a few more minutes trying to locate the man in the white suit again and after not seeing him anymore he gave up. But he knew from somewhere he was being watched. Finally he shrugged off his foreboding. Logging onto Hutchinson’s laptop he began searching for images of skulls. He gave up due to too many links and typed in ’Wavecrest’. Once again there were too many links so he removed the space and changed it to one word. The results were random. There was a song by a group, a one hit wonder. The most results were for a company in southern California that made surfboards and surfing equipment owned by two brothers. Dennis redefined the search and included the word ’ship’.
No results. Nothing.
He checked the information bar at the top of the screen.
Did you mean ’Wavecrest ship’ it read.
He clicked on the attached link.
Sorry found no matches for your criteria.
He tried all different combinations.
Still nothing.
Finally he gave up.
Taking a piece of paper and a pen he sketched the skull he’d seen and tried searching again.
The sea bed levelled out at one hundred and twenty feet. Natalie and her team searching anything they found. The visibility was poor at this depth. No more than a few metres at best. She swam over rocks that jutted out of the sea bed. Plants moved in the current. A starfish was clinging to a large rock. A large crab was squaring up to it. This was a fight for territory. She waved her hand in front of the crab and it backed off, scurrying behind the rock where it peered out at her. Then she heard Hutchinson’s voice in her helmet. She listened carefully to what he said. Another vessel in the area. She wasn’t at all surprised. This was the greatest mystery of archaeology, of the ancient world.
The team stayed down for a further twenty minutes and then returned to the surface.
Natalie stepped out of the shower and quickly got dressed. She grabbed a large towel for her hair and went topside. She was told that Dennis and Hutchinson were on the bridge and headed for it.
Peter Dennis smiled at her as she opened the door and stepped in. Hutchinson and the Captain were studying images received by the headcams . Natalie looked down at the sheet of paper Dennis had been drawing on.
“What’s this? Skulls?”
“Yes.”
“You’ve drawn lots of them. Do you have a fascination for them?”
She picked the paper up and after poring over it she handed it back.
“No. There’s a skull painted on the side of that ship over there, right behind its name, and I was intrigued. I’m sure I’ve seen its like before somewhere. That sketch is the closest to it.”
Hutchinson looked up from what he was doing.
“Now you mention it, it, does look familiar. Though I don’t know where I would have seen it.”
“Let me see,” the American held out his hand for the paper. He flicked his eyes over them all.
“Which one in particular are we looking at?”
Natalie pointed it out for him. Hutchinson studied it. He turned it this way and that for different angles. He shrugged and handed it back to Dennis.
“It looks a bit like the ’Death’s head’ emblem the Germans used during world war II, the, um,” he snapped his fingers, “The SS.”
Dennis studied the small sketch again. This time using his imagination with the new knowledge. He took a red pen and circled his drawing a few times. He then typed in ’SS Death’s head emblem’ on a search. Instantly there were millions of links. He clicked on images and the first thirty appeared on screen.
“There,” Natalie said pointing to the jpeg fourth from the left on the middle row.
“That one looks exactly like your sketch.”
Dennis clicked on the image then clicked on ’Show full size’.
“That is it. That’s what I saw painted on the side of that ship.”
He pointed out of the window and stopped when he saw that the wavecrest had gone.
“What ship?” Natalie asked.
“The one I told you about over the headset,” Hutchinson spoke.
“They must have given up.”
“For now….”
Hutchinson looked over his shoulder as Ali approached.
“….But I’ll bet you a dollar they’ll be back.”
“May I ask what you’ve decided Mr Hutchinson,” the Turkish Captain asked.
“We’ll return to port to take on more equipment. Set sail as soon as you are ready.”
CHAPTER THIRTY SIX
It was early evening when the Volante arrived back at port and while the team went out in search of a restaurant the crew began loading new equipment. After the meal, which Peter Dennis feeling extravagant paid for, he and Natalie walked arm in arm through the town heading for the docks. The other members of the team wandered ahead of them. Natalie was laughing at a joke from the journalist when he suddenly caught her arm. She stopped and followed his gaze. On the other side of the harbour the ’Wavecrest’ was docked. The other members of the team had seen it too but continued on their way.
“That was the ship I saw earlier.”
Natalie stared at it now.
“The one with the skull painted behind the name.”
“Yes.”
“I can’t see it.”
“No it’s hidden in the shadow caused by that crane but it’s there all right.”
She looked and looked.
“No. I can see the name ‘Wavecrest’ and I think I can make out the skull but it’s too dark.”
Dennis grabbed her hand and pulled her along. Natalie struggled to keep up in her heeled shoes.
&nbs
p; “Peter I….”
“I want to get a closer look.”
“What? Now?”
“Yes now!”
They were rapidly catching up to the others. The group had spotted them and were waiting.
“Jim I’m going to take a closer look at that ship.”
Hutchinson squinted at it.
“The ’Wavecrest’. Why? It’s just a newer vessel with more mod cons.”
“I’m interested in why they have that skull. I’ve just got a feeling about this. Can you take Natalie back with you.”
“Very well Peter but if you’re not back by the time we’re ready to sail I’ll send out a search party,” Hutchinson joked.
Natalie was more serious though.
“I’ll come with you.”
“In those heels.”
“I’ll take them off.”
She reached down to remove her shoes.
“No I want to get in close. Take a good look. It’ll be better if I’m on my own.”
“Peter please be careful.”
“I’ll be back before you know it.”
He reached forward and kissed her on the forehead in front of the others. She felt herself blush. Then he was heading for the ’Wavecrest’
To begin with he moved quickly and quietly along the quayside not looking at any one or thing. No one was taking any notice of him. An articulated lorry came rumbling past with only one headlight working and he used it as a distraction and dived for the shadows. Dennis watched as the container lorry stopped ahead at large wire gates. A man with a torch and a vicious looking Alsatian on a chain came forward and spoke to the driver. The lorry driver opened his cab door and jumped down onto the tarmac. He handed a clipboard to the man with the dog. Another man approached. Dennis could see he was much bigger, a head taller and equally proportioned. This man checked the paperwork offered and signed it. As the driver climbed up into his cab once again Dennis made his move. He ran for the back of the trailer and ducked underneath. The driver started the lorry and Dennis heard the brakes release with a short, sharp, squeal. Dennis only had a moment to react. He grabbed the chassis, found a good grip and threw his legs up and dug his heels into the girders that ran the length of the trailer. He looked back as the lorry moved off.. His head was less than an inch from the moving wheels. As he passed the guard the dog began barking frantically and lunging at the trailer. The man holding the dog yanked on the chain angrily. He hadn’t seen anything suspicious and was furious with his dog. He swiped it with the flat of his hand across its ears and kicked it in the ribs causing it to cower. Dennis let out a gasp of relief. The dog had seen him when he’d ducked underneath for cover. The vehicle rumbled on and pulled up alongside other parked lorries.
Dennis waited, still clinging on. The muscles in his legs and fingers hurting from the effort. He heard the engine cut out and the sound of feet hitting the ground as the driver jumped down and slammed the cab door closed. Dennis slowly lowered his feet and let go but remained crouched. The relief in his muscles was instant. He instinctively moved back as far as he could when he heard voices and the sound of footsteps getting closer. Two pairs of feet passed him and turned and stopped at the rear of the trailer. He heard the heavy handles of the container doors opening. Then the beam of a torch was on the ground. The feet disappeared and Dennis realised that the two men had climbed up inside. He paused at the edge of the trailer, right by the back wheel and checked the coast was clear. He dashed out from under the articulated lorry and under the next one, repeated this again and got himself into a safe position in the shadows. A fork lift truck raced past and the air was heavy with the smell of its gas exhaust. Dennis felt himself go light headed for a moment or two from what he inhaled. He wafted his hand in front of his face to disperse the pollution. The fork lift swung in hard at the rear of the trailer, its spotlights blinding. Dennis recoiled from the brightness in case he was spotted. He made his way quickly down an avenue of containers, stopped once when rats crossed his path and came out near the water. The ‘Wavecrest’ was to his left. Lights were shining on board and reflecting off the water. In front of Dennis were wooden crates of all sizes and he now moved in and out of them and got himself into position directly opposite the ship. He reached into his trouser pocket and took out his mobile phone, selected camera, then video and began to record. At first in the dark the camera struggled to focus. He selected ’flash on permanent’ and though the light was bright the subject was too far away and it made no difference. He turned the flash off and filmed as before. He put his mouth close to the phone and began talking quietly, narrating about the ship. He zoomed in on the Lynx helicopter and noticed that it was armed.
“Air to air missiles,” he said.
He filmed the entire length of the ’Wavecrest.’ It was bigger than the ’Volante’. He tried to guess at what such a vessel would cost.
“One hundred million dollars? Two hundred,” he said into his phone, “I have no idea and where did they get that helicopter?”
He moved the phone up and captured the various radar and satellite dishes and stopped as he heard footsteps approaching. He cupped his hand over the phone in case its light gave him away. It was two guards in black combat fatigues and radio headsets. They passed only feet away and Dennis was relieved they didn’t have dogs. From somewhere he heard a voice call and they moved towards it. Dennis stole a look. There was someone, a big man by the look of it, standing in a pool of light from the streetlights overhead. Dennis closed his phone quietly which cancelled the video recording. He recoiled in horror as it bleeped loudly four times. He turned it towards his face, the display reading ’Text message received’.
He silently cursed whoever had sent it and put the phone in his pocket. He stole another peek. The three men were looking his way. Then at an order from the big man they snapped torches from their belts, flicked them on and advanced quickly on his position. Across their chests he now noticed Heckler and Koch MP5 machine guns. The torchlight’s came closer. He squeezed himself into a gap between containers and torchlight flashed briefly over him. He went undetected and the two men moved on. He waited until he was sure he was safe before deciding to move. He cautiously took a step forward. The sharp blade of a large knife across his throat stopped him. He couldn’t at first see who was holding it. Then the blade was lifting his head up, forcing it up. Had he resisted it would have cut his throat. It was still too dark to see anything. Then the person holding the blade called out loudly in Russian. There was a crackle from a headset and a voice responded also in Russian. The knife was slowly removed once Dennis was covered by the two sub-machine guns. The big Russian moved away and spoke quietly into his headset. Moments later on the ship a door opened and Dennis saw the man in the white suit descending the stairs. He then came along the deck and walked down the gantry. It took him only seconds to cover the distance between them. In the meantime Dennis had quickly been searched. His wallet and mobile phone were taken from his jacket pocket. He looked at the phone.
’Strange’
He had put it in the waistband of his trousers. The big Russian put the knife away. He tossed the wallet to the white suited man who so far hadn’t spoken. He flipped the wallet open and took out the driving licence and some bank cards. He held the driver’s licence between thumb and forefinger and turned it into the glow from the streetlight to read it.
“White. Thomas David. 16-02-79. London.”
‘Thomas White. Tom? That’s not my driving licence’ Dennis was thinking, ’How did Tom’s wallet….?’ Then he realised. Just before leaving the restaurant Dennis had popped to the toilet. The others had waited for him in the entrance and Natalie had given him his jacket. It had been on the back of his chair.
’She must have got the jackets mixed up’
“Tom White?”
Dennis had no choice but to go along with it.
“Yes.”
The white suited man continued to read the other cards. Dennis decided to try his luck
.
“Might I know your name?”
The man looked up from the cards for a second. Light was glittering off his spectacles.
“No,” he said abruptly.
Dennis was trying to work out his accent. It was different to the big man’s who he was convinced was Russian. This man sounded more like South African.
’No more like German.’
“Oceanic archaeology institute.”
Dennis nodded. All the while the guns remained trained on him.
“You are an archaeologist?”
“Yes.”
The man in the white suit leafed through the rest of the wallet. There were some Tunisian dinars and some American dollars. He put the cards back and threw the wallet back to Dennis.
“This area is off limits. Did you not see the ’No trespassing’ signs?”
“Forgive me. No.”
The big Russian handed the German the mobile phone and said something quietly. The German nodded.
“You should when you are snooping about in other peoples affairs put your phone on silent.”
“Thank you. I’ll take your advice in future.”
The white suited man’s mood darkened.
“Do not be smart with me.”
The German quickly checked the phone and noted that the video and picture files were empty. He checked the message inbox but there was nothing of importance. He then went through the contacts list. There were over one hundred and fifty names and numbers. He snapped the phone shut and threw it back to Dennis.
“And now may I ask what you were doing here?”
“I’m a ship spotter,”
“A ship spotter?” The man in the white suit didn’t understand. He looked at the big Russian who shrugged. Dennis looked at him too. He was bald headed, easily six feet seven or eight. 280lbs Dennis guessed at.
“What is a ship spotter?”
“A ship spotter,” Dennis repeated, “You know. Like a train spotter, an anorak, someone who watches trains and writes the numbers down. Only I do it with ships.”