The Jason Green series Box Set

by Gordon Wallis

  Wispy clouds drifted past the moon above as I walked quietly up the road under the trees on the opposite side of the promenade as the multi-coloured lights of the city blinked at me silently. Far out in the harbour an unseen cargo ship sounded its horn and I crossed the deserted street and walked towards a bench to take a seat and smoke. The short rasp of the disposable lighter igniting sounded loud in my ears and I stared out at the black water with the occasional distant blinking lights of the junks and the ships. I was totally alone. I sat back on the bench and drew the smoke deeply from the cigarette. This is it Green. It's time. One way or another all of this is going to end tonight.

  IT WAS ON THE DOT OF 2.30 am that I stood up and walked back down the promenade towards the sampan rank. The concrete steps leading down to the water were well lit and although there were three boats waiting, the scene was quiet apart from the squeaking of the rubber that lined their hulls as they bobbed on the water. I walked down to the water line and knocked on a nearby lamp post. The hollow metal sound rang loud in the night. Immediately an old man who had been sleeping on the deck of the small boat sat up from the darkened space and spoke a confused line in Cantonese. Upon seeing I was a Westerner he changed to English.

  “Harbour tour or sampan taxi sir?” he said rubbing his eyes.

  “Taxi only,” I said with a slurred voice feigning drunkenness, “I need to get back to my boat.”

  It turned out that due to the number of bars and restaurants on the waterfront my request was not uncommon. The old man immediately stood up and beckoned me forward so I could step on to the boat.

  “No problem sir,” he said yawning, “but late time, double fare.”

  “I don't care,” I said as I gripped the railing and stepped into the wooden hull. “Just take me to my boat.”

  The small motor gurgled and spluttered as the old man untied the bow of the boat and skilfully pushed it away from the landing and out into the black water. By the time he had turned the boat towards the harbour the drivers of the other two waiting sampans had moved forward and moored at the landing.

  “Pier number one at the marina,” I said over the sound of the motor.

  Leaving the old man at the rear sitting by the motor I walked to the bow of the sampan and sat on the wooden bench seat. Soon enough we were out in the open water and I could see the lights from the boats on pier one.

  “There!” I shouted pointing towards the larger boats at the end of the pier, “Go there.”

  Three minutes later we were close enough to the pier to see the various landing spots between the boats. I chose one situated between two of the larger vessels near the end of the pier.

  Although there were standard deck lights glowing on the two yachts there was no sign of any cabin lights, so I assumed the boats were empty.

  “Yes,” I said to the old man as he slowed the engine to an idle and we drifted towards an aluminium gangway. “Stop here.”

  The old man stepped forward and stopped the drift of the old sampan by gripping the railing on the gangway. I handed him a bundle of notes and pulled myself on to the gangway.

  “Thanks.” I said as he pushed the boat away and restarted the tiny motor.

  I crouched down in the darkness and watched as the sampan puttered away in the moonlight until I could no longer hear the motor. Apart from the gentle lapping of the water on the hulls of the giant yachts either side of me there was no sound. I had made it safely to the cordoned area of pier one. I crept slowly up the gangway and stepped on to the concrete surface of the pier to look around. There was not a soul in sight and apart from the occasional creak of a rope or slop of water all was quiet.

  The Dragon of The Seas was moored at the furthest end of the opposite pier, so I slowly made my way up to get in line with it. I made it to the end of pier one and sat on a steel bollard in the shadow of the giant cruiser to my left. Across the water a hundred feet away from where I sat The Dragon of The Seas floated silently in its mooring. The sharp point of its sleek raised bows towered above me ominously in the moonlight. I paused to watch and listen for a few minutes before opening the bag and pulling the camera out and zooming in for a closer look. As far as I could see Charles Tang's party was over and there was no sign of any human activity on board apart from a few interior lights. Still, the memory of the picture of the armed man I had taken with the drone weighed heavily on my mind. There was no way I would attempt to board the yacht in the conventional manner. I stood up to take a look around and noticed the tiny fibreglass rowing boat floating in between the two massive yachts behind me. I assumed it would be used by the deck hands to clean the hulls of the yachts while they were moored. A steel ladder ran down the side of the concrete pier which would allow access. I turned and climbed down the ladder into the dark shadows between the two huge yachts. As I had expected, there were cleaning products, mops and cloths inside the small boat but more importantly there were a pair of oars. I stepped off the ladder and into the tiny unstable craft which wobbled uncertainly at first. After checking my balance, I untied the rope that was attached to the ladder and quietly rowed out into the water in between the two yachts. It took a full five minutes of rowing through the darkness of the open water between the two piers but eventually I pulled up along the starboard side of The Dragon of The Seas. I stopped and held on to the heavy chain of the submerged anchor and listened. Apart from the gentle lapping of the water on the hull, everything was silent. Once again, I felt the tingling sensation in my arms and legs - it was as if things were happening in slow motion around me.

  I pulled the tiny rowing boat along the hull of the giant yacht until I was dead centre and within reach of the lower gunwale. Once again, I paused to listen for any sound on board the yacht. There was nothing. My intentions were to get aboard without alerting anyone and to make my way to the master stateroom on the second deck. I threaded the rope through a sunken ring in the hull and secured the rowing boat with a quick release knot. Next, I took the bag from my back and removed the hunting knife in its sheath and attached it to my belt. Leaving the bag in the rowing boat I paused once again to look around and listen for the slightest sound or movement aboard the yacht. Everything was quiet. I stood up in the tiny dinghy and gripped the railing of the lower gunwale with my right hand. At that moment, before I committed, I closed my eyes and hung my head in thought. This is it Green. It's do or die. Get the job done and get the fuck out of here. With a final look around, I pulled myself up on to the second deck and reached for the railing above. The sole of my right shoe squeaked quietly as it gripped the edge, but I stepped over the tubular polished steel railing and stood on the synthetic wooden deck silently. Finally, I was aboard The Dragon of The Seas and within touching distance of Mr Charles Tang. From memory I knew that the corridor leading to the entrance to the master stateroom was only accessible from the main lounge and dining area. To get to the lounge I needed to move around the outside and enter from above the swim board near the entrance ramp at the stern. I removed the hunting knife from the sheath and gripped the handle tightly in my right hand. My shoes made no sound as I crept down the narrow walkway towards the rear sun deck. Any evidence of the party that had happened earlier that evening had been cleared away by the staff and the tables and seats were spotless. I knew I was dangerously exposed in the mellow lighting of the sun deck, so I moved quickly to open the entrance to the foyer and the main lounge. The heavy door opened with a light click and I stepped on to the thick cream coloured carpet of the interior. Although the lounge area was brightly lit I was grateful that the curtains had been closed over the huge bay windows to either side of the room. They would at least save me from any scrutiny from the pier. The furnishings were plush and expensive while the surfaces and tables were all fashioned from heavy pink marble. I crept forward and crouched behind the first double couch. Ahead of me was the sitting area and the polished wood veneer walls of the corridor to the dining area. The only sound was the quiet whisper of the air conditioning and the po
unding of my heart in my chest. I waited there, knife in hand, for a minute to see if there was any movement or if I had triggered any silent alarm. Satisfied that I hadn't, I rose to my feet again and padded across the carpet towards the relative darkness of the corridor. With my back to the polished wall I inched forward and poked my head around the edge to look inside the dining room. The heavy marble table had seats for eight people. On the centre of the table, mounted on a plinth of ebony, was a huge elephant tusk intricately and minutely carved with an old Chinese village scene. I glanced at it briefly and wondered from which part of Africa it had been poached. Ahead of me was another corridor with a brightly lit spiral staircase to the left.

  I knew it led up to the bridge lounge and pilot house, then down to the lower corridor and guest cabins. Its vellum covered walls, thick carpeting and chrome hand rail shone in the bright light of the stairway. Beyond that was the entrance to the master stateroom where I was hoping Charles Tang lay asleep. I glanced around quickly to make sure the coast was clear before crossing the room. So far so good Green. Control, speed and silence. Then get out. I crossed the dining room quietly, pausing only briefly to check the stairway. Despite the air conditioning I was sweating profusely and I stood with my back to the wall beyond the stairwell and wiped my face with my left sleeve. Directly in front of me was the doorway to the master stateroom and I stood for a moment to breathe and mentally prepare myself for what I might find inside. My mouth was dry and once again I was aware of the pounding in my chest. I stood and stared at the chromed handle of the door. Now Green! Fucking do it now! I leant forward and with my left hand I gently turned the handle. The last thing I remember was the dull click as the door opened. The savage blow came from behind and connected with the back of my head. It cracked my teeth and turned my vision into a series of bursting white explosions. My body crashed into the heavy door and I fell forward on to the thick carpet unconscious.

  I became vaguely aware of being searched and pulled around by my hands and feet. It seemed there was a lot of shouting in Cantonese and general confusion around me, but I continued to drift in and out of consciousness. After some time, the shouting died down and I felt my body being lifted on to a seat and my hands being tied behind my back. There was more shouting, screaming even and a series of blows to the side of my face. I slowly became aware of the terrible throbbing pain in my skull and I could hear myself moaning softly. My senses returned fully when a bucket of iced water was thrown in my face. I blinked my eyes repeatedly and looked around to see that I was sitting in the dining room of the yacht at the far end of the table. In front of me were four men who stared at me with enraged faces. At the far end of the table was the unmistakeable face of Charles Tang. He sat in a royal blue silk dressing gown and drummed his fingers continuously on the marble surface. I recognised the man sitting nearest to me as the one I had seen from the drone photograph. In his right hand he held a Chinese made Norinco 54 pistol which was pointed at my chest. I had no idea who the other two were, but their eyes burned with nervous fury as they stared at me. I realised also that the thick metallic taste in my mouth was blood and I gagged slightly as I swallowed it. I blinked again and stared at the man I had come to kill.

  “Who are you and what do you want here?” said Tang in perfect English.

  Although he was a big man his voice was high pitched and strained. It reminded me of an overgrown chipmunk. I blinked and smiled at him not knowing what to say.

  “Liko!” shouted Tang to which the moon-faced man with the gun stood and slapped me with ferocious strength on the side of my face.

  The blow sounded like gunfire and I sat there stunned and once again became aware of the taste of blood in my mouth. I lifted my face and stared once again at Mr Charles Tang. His fists were now clenched and shaking with rage.

  “I will only ask you one more time,” he said. “Who are you and what do you want here on my boat?”

  “My name is Green,” I said quietly, “and I want to kill you.”

  The three men nearest me exploded into animated shouted conversation in Cantonese as they pointed at me and each other. The pandemonium only stopped when Charles Tang slapped his meaty hand on the table with a crack.

  “Anjing! Silence,” he screamed at his subordinates.

  I looked around at the red faces of the three chastened men who now sat staring at me.

  “Ah I see,” said Tang with a look of smug satisfaction on his face. “You are the man who has been causing problems and disrupting my business operations in Africa no?”

  His mispronunciation of the word 'business' sounded like he was saying 'bithineh' and his 'R's were replaced by 'W's.

  “That's right Mr Tang,” I said. “The report that you tried so hard to stop. The report that you killed for is now on its way to London and will be presented to the authorities. It's over for you.”

  Charles Tang stared at me and slowly his face broke into a grin like a Cheshire cat. His laughter started as a chuckle but soon exploded into great whooping bursts of raucous mirth. His subordinates around me joined in nervously but moon face Liko kept the gun pointed at my chest. The bizarre spectacle only stopped when Charles Tang once again slapped his hand on the marble surface of the table.

  “I know all about you Mr Gween,” he said in his theatrical voice as he stood up from his seat.

  He walked slowly towards me around the table to the left.

  “And I know about your Italian woman. The reporter. She was very troublesome as well Mr Gween.”

  Moon face Liko held the pistol to my chest forcing it into my ribs as Tang approached. He put his meaty hands on the table in front of me and brought his face close to mine. I smelled the whisky on his breath and his thick, purplish lips wobbled as he spoke.

  “She screamed your name as she died Mr Gween,” said Tang. “Do you know that?”

  A sudden bolt of rage hit me and I felt an uncontrollable urge to lunge forward and bite the small stubby nose off. The pistol jammed into my ribs prevented that so instead I spat a huge gob of blood and saliva into the face of Charles Tang. He retreated with a shriek and wiped his face with the sleeve of his silk dressing gown. Immediately there was another savage blow to the side of my head from Liko. It took some seconds for me to regain my composure.

  “Fuck you!” I said through gritted teeth. “You're going down Tang.”

  Charles Tang broke into high pitched laughter once again and his thugs followed suit.

  “No Mr Gween,” he said. “It is you who are going down. Deep, deep down.”

  Charles Tang walked back towards the curtains and pulled them to one side. He turned and looked at me then looked at the diamond encrusted Rolex on his left wrist.

  “Liko!” he shouted to which moon face instantly turned to face him.

  He barked a series of orders in Cantonese that I could not understand but I managed to catch the word 'Zhuhai' which was repeated constantly. The two other men stood up and grabbed me by each arm while Liko kept the gun pointed at me. They dragged me towards the corridor and manhandled me down the stairwell. My legs felt weak and the last I heard of Charles Tang was a faint farewell.

  “Goodbye Mr Gween.” he said.

  The two men forced me past the guest cabins and back towards a bulkhead that marked the entrance to the engine room. Liko opened the door and the two men shoved me into the cavernous utilitarian space. The overhead neon lights cast a blueish tinge over the massive engine and Liko stepped over a giant pipe to open a small oval shaped steel door to the right. The two men physically threw me into the dark interior and I crashed into a series of unseen metal shelves as the door was closed behind me. I sat on the steel floor in the stuffy darkness and began to tease the bindings on my wrists behind my back.

  The darkness was absolute, so I closed my eyes and gritted my teeth as the throbbing in my head pounded away. The rope that bound my wrists felt like thick marine nylon and after five minutes of pulling I finally managed to untie one of the many knots. T
he rest came undone more easily and soon I was sitting, rubbing my numbed hands together in an effort to get the blood flowing once again. It was when I finally stood up in the cramped space that I heard the massive engine rumble into life through the door. Charles Tang was on the move. There was no doubt in my mind that he was taking The Dragon of The Seas to Zhuhai across the water in mainland China. I had heard him say the name a few times. I took his ominous warning that it would be me who was going down, to mean that he would kill me and dump my body in the sea on the way. I ran my hands against the steel walls of the compartment until I found the light switch. The sudden glare of the single bulb caused me to blink a few times. The tiny storage room measured two metres long by one metre wide with steel shelving all around. There was also a storage space above the steel door with a thick rail to prevent anything from falling during travel. The shelves were neatly packed with spare cushions and mattresses for the many sun decks and lounges on the yacht. I tried the heavy handle of the door only to find it was locked and would not budge a bit. There must be a way. I switched the light off once again and lay down on the floor with my hands behind me in the same position that I had landed. With as much force as possible I began kicking at the steel door repeatedly. The noise rang through the hull as steel clashed with steel and soon enough, I heard the door unlock. The blue glare of the engine room lights filled the space and the furious moon face of Liko stared down at me.