Island of the Hunted - The Beginning

by P.B. Thompson

  He'd been at this facility for nearly twenty years now; fifteen with the same team and he'd never met anyone as dislikeable as the Womble. Even the people his team had been contracted to kill, some of them the lowest forms of humanity imaginable, couldn't match up to him.

  Walker headed for the shower room. He caught himself in the mirror. His short dark hair seemed to have a few more gray strands in it now. The stubble on his chin didn't look as dark as it used to. Looking down at his body he noticed his six pack was losing its definition and were his biceps sagging a little?

  I've been away from that gym too long he thought. Or maybe times catching up on me. Quickly dismissing the last thought he jumped in the shower.

  The early sun shone brightly against the tall rocks casting long shadows over the huts. The area seemed to be deserted, but Walker could see that most of his men were already having breakfast. He made the short walk to the mess hall taking in his favourite views. The surrounding area reminded him of the westerns he used to watch as a kid; the fantastic scenery with the rocky mountains as a backdrop.

  As he opened the door he was greeted with a short cheer.

  "You finally got out of your stinking pit then," Victor Davis said.

  Walker smiled and said, "I don't know about you guys, but I sure needed that sleep." He grabbed a plate and began filling it up from the selection of food that had been laid out. It was so nice to have proper food again.

  "We saw that slimy Womble banging on your door. What was he after?" asked Franklyn.

  "Just letting me know the old man wants to see me about our little trip. As if I didn't know that already considering that's what I do after every trip." He sat down and started eating.

  "Me and the boys were just discussing what we're gonna do with our four weeks break," Darrell Ely began. "I know some have got family they want to see, but we was thinking we should take a trip to Vegas for a week or so. Do ya fancy it?"

  "Want to throw away your money already, eh?" Walker paused. "Yeah, why not," he continued. "I fancy a game of poker."

  "I was thinking more of the strip joints, but poker sounds good too." Ely gave a knowing smile. "That's settled then. As soon as you've finished with the old man we'll pack up and head for Vegas. Franky and Larry won't be coming so it'll just be the five of us. Vegas won't know what's hit it when we get there."

  "I dunno about you lot, but I just fancy dossing around the pool." Lawrence Copley said.

  "Well you can do that as well," replied Ely. "Come on then Walker. The sooner you eat up, the sooner you can see the old man and the sooner we can get out of this dump."

  "Give me a chance. I've only just got here. It's the first bit of proper food I've had in three weeks and I want to make sure I enjoy it," Walker complained.

  "No, three of a kind beats two pair." Ely was trying to teach the basics of No Limit Hold Em poker to Jessie Huddleson.

  "But you have more cards with two pairs," Huds replied.

  "That's not the way it works. It is statistically harder to get three of a kind than it is two pair so that's why my hand beats yours." The seriousness and frustration on Darrell Ely's face showed he had been trying to relay these rules for a little while now. He sank back in his chair. He was of a medium build and about six inches shorter than Huds's tall frame. His constantly tanned skin seemed to glow even when he had been in the jungle for weeks on end. The long blond hair was held back with a hair band that revealed the scar running from the temple to his right ear.

  The men had returned to their hut. It was only the team leaders of each group who had a hut to themselves. The rest of them had to share. A few of the men were packing up their things. They didn't have much so it wasn't going to take long. When that was done they had to wait around until Walker had been to see the old man. Just in case there was another job on the horizon. It had happened a couple of times before. They had packed up ready to hit the beaches or head home for a break and Walker had come back with another mission for them.

  "I think you should stick to Roulette." Ely had finally given up on trying to teach Huds. "It's like trying to teach Vicky proper table manners. It ain't gonna happen."

  "Oi ya cheeky git," Victor Davis replied.

  "Truth hurt does it?"

  Victor was the shortest in the group. "Big things always come in small packages," he always said. Being stocky in stature it gave him a powerful aura that made anyone think twice about tangling with him. He had shaved his afro when he first joined the army, before joining Walkers team, and now kept a clean shaven head. He vowed to keep it that way until he could grow back his afro. He threw a smelly sock which hit Ely smack in the face.

  "What a shot. I think I might try my hand at basketball when I get to Vegas if I'm shooting that well."

  "The only thing you're shooting well is dead animals because they can't escape," Ely retorted.

  "Any more comments from you and you'll be a dead animal," quipped Vicky. They both smiled enjoying the banter.

  "He's taking his time over there. I bet there's another job to do. Just when I'm in the mood for a bit of a gamble." Ely was fidgeting now. He'd planted a seed in his mind about another job and it caused him to shuffle his cards excessively.

  "Calm down," said Copley. "He says he was going to refuse any more jobs until we've had a break. If it's in his control he won't let us down. Let's have a game of poker while we're waiting."

  Ely's eyes lit up. If there was one thing to keep his mind occupied it was poker.

  "No Limit Hold Em, blinds are £1/£2," he said excitedly. "Anyone else?" There were no takers. "Looks like it's you and me, Copley, heads up. Think you can take the pressure?"

  Copley sat down putting his money on the table. "I can if you think you can take losing your money." The battle began.

  Walker supped on the whiskey the Commander, the old man, had poured for him. It was a poor substitute for rum, but on occasions it did hit the spot. This was such an occasion.

  He had only been there two minutes and the drink was in his hand. It had become a sort of tradition after every job. A toast to the success. This sort of welcome was not extended to everyone. A sort of bond had developed between the two men over the years and they had become close. The Commander always called him son.

  "You’re looking well, son. No injuries suffered this time I take it. All of the men came through unscathed?"

  "A few insect bites, that's about it," came the reply.

  "How was the intelligence you received?"

  "Better than I thought it would be. Only a few minor adjustments to the plans were necessary. I must say you came up trumps this time."

  "We did get a lot from their inside man so I can't take all of the credit."

  The Commander was sitting at his desk. He looked handsome in a Sean Connery kind of way. Well groomed white hair covered his head and distinguished wrinkles lined his face.

  The desk stretched the width of the hut and wrapped round him at one end. Behind him, a row of filing cabinets leaned up against the wall. On top of these were a dozen or so photos all lined up in a row. Some of the photos were of his family. The rest were army photos throughout his career. There was even one taken with JFK.

  "We're all looking forward to a nice break now. The boys are talking about spending some time in Vegas."

  The Commander's head lowered a little. "I'm afraid you'll have to put that on hold for a bit. We've had something come in."

  "Norman, come on now," Walker was beginning to get a little annoyed. "You know how long we've been out in the field over the last year. We need a break."

  "Ordinarily, I would have passed this on to one of the other teams, but you've been asked for personally." Norman opened up the folder on his desk.

  "I don't know whether to be proud or suspicious. Why would someone ask for us personally?"

  Walker looked a little confused. "To be honest I'm surprised no one h
as asked for you sooner. Your record is second to none and from what I hear your reputation in the relevant circles is highly regarded. Son, this has been backed by my direct superiors in the government. They are really pushing this one. Apparently, the guy who has asked for you is a big, world player. He has a lot of dealings with a lot of governments."

  Walker turned to look out of the window. He gazed at a bird flying across the camp. "What's the job?" he asked resignedly.

  "Seems that this guy's businesses are being threatened by terrorists. He wants them taken out."

  A long silence followed while Walker thought about what was said.

  "As a little bit of an incentive, he's offered the use of an island he and a lot of his rich friends frequent once the jobs done," Norman added. "All the usual checks have been done if that eases your mind any and he's willing to pay double the usual amount."

  Walker thought about it for a moment. "Let me have a chat with the men," he finally said. "I have my reservations so I want to let them to be in on the decision."

  "Ok, but son, bear in mind who's pushing this one. They would owe you a very big favour which could come in very handy at some point in the future. Here's the details. Go through them with your men and come back to me when you've decided."

  Walker took the documents and headed for the door. This was the first time he had needed to consult his men on a job. They trusted him and he hadn't let them down yet, but this one... They needed to know that someone had asked for them by name. He was very suspicious by nature and this didn't feel quite right. There's a very good chance everything is ok. After all the old man had said all of the checks had been done. And he was surprised this hadn't happened before. Maybe he was being too cautious. He'll let the men decide.

  Back at the hut Ely sat playing with his deck of cards. He'd just lost all the money he had with him to a stupid pair of two's that got lucky on the river card. Copley was counting his winnings.

  Walker walked in and put the papers on the table. Everyone looked at him. They knew what this meant. The mood in the room dropped. Walker explained everything the old man had told him.

  The discussion went on for a good thirty minutes. Raised voices could be heard every now and then breaking the longer periods of silence. Walker emerged from the hut with a serious expression adorning his face.

  "One condition."

  The old man was disturbed from reading Walker's mission report. He jumped a little as Walker burst through the door.

  "We want to meet this guy before we decide."

  "I'm sure that can be arranged. I'll contact the relevant people and set it up as soon as possible," Norman replied.

  "Somewhere neutral," Walker added.

  "Ok. I'll arrange it for tomorrow. You and your men go through the documents I gave you and let me know if there's anything you need. I'll get you the latest intelligence reports and satellite photos." Norman picked up the phone and started dialling. Without a word Walker turned and walked out of the door. He headed for the hut to begin his planning with the men.

  Chapter 3

  The next day a phone rang in James Ober's mansion. He was out in the garden admiring his flowers, occasionally picking out some weeds. He loved the garden. He had a gardener, but did quite a bit of work himself when he was home. It relieved the stress and pressures of his work; the peace of the garden contrasting with the hectic environment of his working life. Today was no exception.

  He acknowledged his butler as he came into view.

  "A phone call for you, sir. The person on the line wouldn't give a name, but said you would know who it was."

  James felt the pain in his heart for his daughter. He walked to the house and picked up the phone. "Yes," he said.

  "James," came the voice. "Is everything going to plan? Have you made all the arrangements?"

  James's heart began to race as he prepared to give the white suited man the news. He wasn't sure how he was going to react as what he was about to say wasn't something that was expected. "Something’s come up. The mercenaries want to meet me this afternoon at five."

  There was a pause. James didn't know what reaction to expect. He was praying it was the one that would keep his daughter safe. After all, the white suited man seemed very obsessive about getting these men to the island. He must have foreseen something like this happening.

  "You know what's at stake?" the white suited man emphasised. "It seems they are a little suspicious and want to look you over first, so you had better be convincing. I'm sure it should be a doddle for you after the bare faced lies you must tell to have gotten where you are today."

  James became a little annoyed. "You shouldn't judge everyone by your own standards," he said tersely.

  "Don't get brave on me now little man," came the raised voice down the phone. "Just do what you need to do to convince these people you are genuine. You know what will happen if you don't. I will call again tomorrow." The phone went dead.

  James slowly replaced the receiver cursing his outburst. He knew exactly what would happen. A tear welled in his eye. He caught himself and wiped it away. Pull yourself together he thought. I can do this. He looked at the clock on the wall. Five hours to go.

  * * *

  The meeting place had been chosen by Walker. He wanted somewhere neutral. Any deception on the client’s part would be easier to spot than if it was on their own turf. They had never had the need to make these arrangements before. The old man’s checks had always been thorough. However, they also had never been asked for before and something didn't feel quite right. Maybe the old man was right. Perhaps their reputation had gotten round.

  Five o'clock had arrived. James Ober was already there. He had turned up twenty minutes earlier to get comfortable with his surroundings. This was something he always did before any high pressured meetings. And you couldn't get anymore high pressured than this. He wore his black Armani suite with a white shirt and pink tie.

  His three bodyguards stood close by. All of them armed. Although, how much use they would be against professional killers he didn't know, but it made him feel more relaxed.

  The meeting place was in the middle of nowhere. No sign of civilisation for miles. In fact it was a desert. There were no landscape features to speak of, just a few trees and patches of scrubland. Not a place for a vacation.

  The unmarked helicopter that had brought him sat one hundred yards away; propellers still spinning with an American pilot sitting in the cockpit.

  Now composed after his flight, James waited patiently. The sun hung low in the sky now and he kept it behind him so it didn't affect his sight. He could see the second helicopter coming into view. Its sound became louder until it settled in front of him about fifty yards away. Seven menacing looking men stepped onto the ground and made their way towards James. His heart rate began to quicken. His palms began to sweat. He put his hands in his pocket.

  "James Ober?" Walker said.

  "Yes," came the reply.

  The six men behind Walker fanned out on either side of him. The formation was designed to intimidate and it didn't fail, as witnessed when looking into the bodyguards eyes.

  Huds's six feet five inch frame of solid muscle took the far left position. His dusky complexion, inherited from his Middle East ancestry, added to his handsome, chiselled features. His dark hair stopped at his shoulders and was held in place by a baseball cap. He, like his companions, wore casual clothes that were going to be used on their Vegas trip; a dark t-shirt and a pair of jeans.

  Frankie, next to him, stood four inches shorter than Huds. He was bald, but unlike Vicky, his condition was due to an accident when he was a kid. The constant stubble adorning his chin was seen by some to make up for the lack of hair on his head, which he vehemently denied when confronted about it. He also wore jeans, but with a white t-shirt.

  Next to him, Copley, the youngest out of the group, was the same height as F
rankie. He sported a few knife scars on his body from his many knife fights that he used to participate in for money. His greying hair was kept short which accentuated his large ears. A lot more casually dressed than the others, he wore a vest and shorts with flip flops.

  To the far right was Ely. Next to him was Larry who was a little shorter than Frankie. Larry's ancestral lineage was from Cameroun which gave him an almost ebony skin colour. His athletic frame was covered in a pair of jeans and a blue long sleeved shirt. Vicky completed the formation.

  "So, why us?" Walker was straight to the point. James had his story prepared in his mind. He had gone over it many times since the meeting had been arranged.

  "I've been following what's been happening with your little outfit. Not just your team, but also the other teams. The missions you've been on. A man in my position never knows when he might need these services. Now I do, I want the best and someone who will show my enemies that I am not to be messed with. The mission reports I've read of yours show me one thing above the fact that you are the best; a ruthless nature. A cold hearted love of your job. This is why I want you and your team. I need my enemies to be fearful and show them I am not an easy target." James was totally relaxed by the end of his speech.

  Walker studied his face and eyes during this. Trying to pick that tell-tale sign that would satisfy the niggling doubt he had inside. As James came to the end of his speech Walker could see his facial expressions were more in tune with the words he was saying. A sign he was more at ease with the story he was telling? Maybe he was just a little nervous at the beginning? Either way there was nothing Walker could pick up on to suggest he was lying. "Why are these terrorists targeting you?"

  Immediately James replied. "Rennold Walker, there are many jealous people around who want to see me fail. I am a very successful man in many areas of the commercial world. I guess they would rather hire people to destroy my businesses than work hard to grow their own."

  Walker felt some sincerity in his voice. "Ok," he said. "I am very suspicious by nature, but it looks like you've convinced me. We'll take the job. Just a friendly warning though," Walker moved a little closer to James and stared deep into his eyes as though he was trying to reach his soul. "If this does turn out to be a setup and just one of us makes it out alive, there will be no one around who would be able to stop us from killing your family, friends, even your monkeys there," Walker nodded to the bodyguards. "Then it would be our life long mission to make your life hell."