The Town of Split lay innocently on the Adriatic Sea, its red tile roofs reflecting the countless centuries that it has been safe harbor for sailors and travelers alike. It was also a lay over spot for one Russian named Roman, whose fleet of Yachts and boats traveled in and out of its port.
Roman sat in a large dark wood paneled office the glassy sea lay calm and blue out the window behind the large desk. Two hooded figures sat across from him, their faces hidden from view, the dark brown robes in discord with the white shorts and loose blue shirt that Roman himself worn.
" We have started phase one of our operation, and your first payment has been deposited in the account, there will be another fifty million deposited in your account upon delivery of the girl and the two tons of material that is out lined in our agreement. "
Roman nods, he shifts casually in his chair, then leans forward.
" And how will I contact you, I have no number or adress to alert you to if there are problems ?"
The Two dark figures look at each other, a almost red glint comes from under the darkness of their hoods.
"We will contact you, we will know when things are ready, we are always watching."
" Ok then, that is fine" Roman seems unphased, but pushes his point.
"So what happens if there are problems and I need to change things around"
The two figures stand, and prepare to leave.
"Mr. Roman, we didn't hire you to call us with problems, it is your job to solve them, do not disappoint us in this matter, the High Priest will not be as kind as we have been, complete the job, and all things will be fine."
The two figures walk to a small black helicopter that sits on the back deck, its rotors turning slowly in the breeze, it seems to almost hang from the boat. They enter into a small door at the center of the flat black, and low profile bird, it almost seems to small to hold much more. Silently the rotors turn and the little machine hovers for a minute then moves swiftly out to sea, in less than two minutes its shape is lost in the horizon.
Roman swears, then turns to a large gray toned man, his bald head and broad shoulders poking out from the white tank top he has on.
"Go find the girl, and set the bait for the others, I want to stir things up a little."
"Yes sir. " The bulking frame of over six feet four inches heads toward a small speed boat tied to the back of the Yacht.
38 comments:
Barett ended up leaving the club, by himself at 1:30 in the morning. It wasn't that the girls weren't hot, they were, it wasn't the interest level, it was there. He just felt like it wasn't going to be a good thing, and feigned a work assignment in the morning. He agreed to meet up again on friday night at the club, and bring a fellow worker. But something was gnawing at the back of his head and he couldn't put his finger on it. So he left, and headed back to the house he had rented.
He ran a perimeter check, then went inside and got some sleep, he felt he was going to need the rest.
She continued to scream at the top of her lungs as the zombies moved in. Her boyfriend was being torn apart and eaten alive before her eyes. The hem of the teenage girl's tattered Sunday dress soaked up the bright red blood dripping from her broken lip. A farmer, now zombie with half his face missing, pushed his long brown hair roughly from his one good eye, wiped his mud caked hands on his dirt-stained pants and charged. The girl was frozen with fright. The zombie jumped through the window which broke much too easily and landed on the screaming teenager. She was done for. The mud encrusted hands grabbed for her white shirt. It stained as is if it was blood. Her screams were muffled but she continued to squirm and resist her attacker. Others jumped through the window. Then her squirming form became still as the zombies gorged on her flesh.
The camera pulled back.
“Well that was a waste of a pretty face.” Rick said as he turned his attention to eating his breakfast of bacon, eggs, wheat toast, and freshly squeezed orange juice.
“You’re missing the point. They need to establish a precedent that the anything beautiful or wholesome that meddles with forces beyond their comprehension will be consumed by that same evil.” Utah said as he looked up from his tying his shoe. “It is a classic setup. The death of an innocent is to produce tension that makes the story begin to be interesting. Tension is created by opposition between the character or characters and internal or external forces or conditions. By balancing the opposing forces of the conflict, you keep viewers glued to the screen, wondering how the story will end.”
“Still, I was hoping they would keep her alive. She is much better looking than the other girl.”
“Yeah, but the other girl has more personality development time.”
“That spot on her face bugs me. She needed to die first. That or they need was a scene where a zombie comes out and bites it clean off.” Rick said as he finished his orange juice. They had just killed the girl he thought was attractive. He was losing interest with the slow movie plot. Besides, at this point, they weren’t going to flash any nudity he was hoping to see of attractive actress who just got eaten. He leaned over and turned it off the TV set.
“You’re hopeless Rick.” Utah said as he threw his bag onto the bed. “Someday you are going meet a real super great girl with everything going for her, yet you will leave her hanging because she has small breasts.”
“Nothing wrong with liking shapely figures,” Rick said.
“So tell me about this girl you met last night. Is she an average looking lady?”
“Of course not! Beautiful blonde with liquid blue eyes, a hot body and long legs. I would say on a scale of 1 to 10, a ten being the impossible, I would put her at an 8.”
Utah coughed and stared at Rick. “You haven’t even been her day and you’re picking up high quality girl like that already? How do you do it? What did you two do last night? You didn’t play hanky panky did you?”
“Well, she showed me around town and then took me down to the beach. Research you know. We need to learn as much about the area as we can. Anyway, there at the beach she stripped down to her birthday suit and I sort of joined her and we went skinning dipping.”
“I think your lying.” Utah said incredulously. “Does she have a sister?”
“Don’t know.” Rick said grinning mischievously at his older brother. “We didn’t do the deed though. But not because she didn’t want to that was for sure. She was all over me trying to get me to go back to her place. I almost did but then I thought that because she is in the yacht business we can use her connections and insights. So I got control of situation last night. I want to be able to draw her in as needed.”
“That could be useful.” Utah agreed. “Way to think with your head on your shoulders first before the one between your legs. Well, let’s get going. We need to see what we can find out on our missing agent, Reagan Huntington. Why don’t you come with me to pick up my rental and then we can team up with Barett and Dave; see what they have been able to find.”
“What are you getting?” Rick asked.
“Mitsubishi Evo 10. Special order with rally specs. Should be small enough for the streets here but have enough under the bonnet to spin circles around you big fat Italian piece.”
“In your dreams! My Maserati will out gun any Japanese import any day of the week.”
“Whatever, maybe on a straight-a-way track,” Utah joked. “But I would like to see you do it in the city streets here. You would be too scared you would scratch up your baby paint job on every corner you took!”
They both grabbed their gear bags and headed out the hotel door, continuing to arguing about the finer points of different cars in different terrains. At least they could both agree that driving a big truck here would be a nightmare.
Barett had left the club alone and early. He had meet breifly with the girl from the motorcycle shop and her friends, that wasn't the problem. They loved his accent and cover story he gave of being some gearhead loving racer, wanting to explore the E.U. circuit.
But he had spotted the two Macedonians, 'Psy' and the White wolf guy, they were talking to some real bad mo-fo's in the corner. They didn't see Barett, and he decided to leave at that point, before things got to weird.
He arranged to meet up with the girls on the weekend coming up, when he had more time.
Sitting on his bike in a back, dark alley way. Barett waited for the two Macedonians to leave, so he could follow them. He had found the Land Rover and knew they would need to come for it sooner or later.
Barett had put on the helmet and jacket to hide his identity, the darkness he helped create by knocking out all the lights around him finished his hideout.
He waited for almost two hours before they came back to the truck, with three of the guys from the club.
Money was exchanged and then a large bag stuffed full of equipment was handed to the Macedonians. When the gangster looking guys left, they opened the bag and started pulling out gear. Night vision gogles, camera equipment, military walky talkies, body armor,and police uniforms.
Barett took note, and them followed them back to the neighborhood they were living in outside of town, in a rented room at the back of a large farmhouse.
He waited till they turned out the lights then he drove back to the house on the hill he had rented and wrote it all down. Something was going down, and he knew it was going to be involving Roman some how, and him.
Rick and Utah went and picked up the car, it was a real looker, all silver and low. The bucket seats were a little tight for a guy of Ricks height but fit Utah just fine. They drove around town, chasing each other up and down streets, getting a feel for roads and flows of traffic. There seemed to be only two types of people in Split, the wealthy and the workers.
Rick follows Utah back to the hotel, where they are to meet with Shelia for a lunch appointment to get mission parameters and make contact with Barett.
Rick notices that he is being followed, by what looks like a undercover police car.
What does he do ?
At the next intersection, two turns before the hotel, Rick turned right instead of left and floored it. He raced up the narrow street and slammed on his brakes at the end. He looked up into his rear-view mirror and waited to see if he was still being followed. If they were going to play cat and mouse with him then he better give them a reason to give chase.
Rick doesn't have to wait long, the five series BMW rolls around the corner. Sees Rick at the far end and guns its motor, people are waiting on the sidewalks to cross seeing the play of cars. The narrow roads and sharp corners will make this a interesting game of cat and mouse.
The mid-sized BMW rockets down the road.
What does Rick do next ?
With a push of the sports button, the Maserati unleashed a thundering sound, something one may say sounded similar to the bellows of hell. It was so outrageous that everything and everyone on the street were simply intimidated, yet . . . delighted by it. Well, maybe not guy driving the BMW. The transmission in Rick’s car shifted smooth and fast, the tires leaving a cloud of burnt smoke.
Rick raced down the streets, looking for intersections with acute angles hoping to outdrive the BMW. The next intersection was tight and sharp. Rick gunned the car, feathered his hand break and whipped the big car easily into a power drift around the corner. He was grinning ear to ear. The car was handling like a dream and the roar of the supercharged engine was pure music.
He raced down the next street and then did a power drift again to reverse his direction down another street. People were jumping like panicking roaches trying to scurry away from a sudden light.
Rick had been lucky so far; the streets had been void of any cars blocking the way. He looked behind him to see if the BMW as able to keep up.
Rick checked his mirrors, the BMW was losing ground. The driver surprised and less skilled than Rick was unable to keep up, but that wasn't stopping him from trying. He to was pushing the limits of what the car could do. The fuel injected V8 in the BMW, kept him from losing Rick completly, but he seemed to know these street better and rode the car up on to the curb more than once honking madly at the pedestrian traffic. It was a wild scene to behold, two large cars chasing each other down narrow idyllic streets, just before the afternoon lunch crowds started, right before the crowds started.
For a second Rick thinks he has lost the BMW as he rounded a corner and speed down a narrow one way road, but seconds later it appeared in his rearview mirror.
He was falling ever so slightly behind, but that wasn't good enough for Rick, something more drastic was needed, something more intense, so he headed towards the old city, and the Roman Palace, more people, more traffic.
The car swung wide around a corner the back end cutting loose, the wide tires screaming in protest. Smoke rolled from the wheel wells, and black marks were drawn on the street, Rick smiled, it was beautiful art to him.
The BMW followed, slowing slightly as the crowded street appeared before him as well.
Rick punched the engine forward, and people lunged out of his way. The BMW slowed even more.
What does Rick do next?
Rick was approaching a busy section of the old town. The smile had vanished and he was now concentrating hard. The big white car thundered down the street, the sounds echoing off the stone wall buildings. Rick swerved sharply left and right, avoid hitting park cars and pedestrians, but he did his best to knock over tables, stands and other such assortments the lined the street, hoping to throw obstacles into his purser’s path.
Ahead was another intersection with a traffic signal. The cross street as a larger street and was clearly marked as one way. Of course the lights were against Rick. But he didn’t stop. He knew he was taking a gambled but instead of thinking about it he simply threw the dice.
He buried the accelerator into the carpet. Flying out into the intersection, he swung the wheels hard to the right. The front and back ties spun in opposite direction with a painfully glorious screech of protest. He was pointed into oncoming one-way traffic as he came within inches of smashing a little blue Volkswagen Golf. The driver of the Golf, in a panicked to avoid getting hit swung wildly to the right but lost control as his car flew spastically left and right until it smashed into number of parked cars.
Rick flashed his lights in warning as he barrowed into oncoming traffic. He was glad he had spent so much time tweaking the Maserati’s suspension. The car was responding like it knew what he wanted it to do before he did it. Clear two oncoming cars, he gunned the beastly engine and drove straight at a very unwise speed into oncoming cars. But the dice role came out in his favor as the oncoming drivers freaked and were forcing to swerve and crash out of the way.
At next intersection, he whipped the car hard to the right to exit the road to a back street. The street was hardly populated with anything as it was narrow and had no room for parked cars. A young couple was walking down the road, hand in hand but as they saw the big white car racing down on them, they jumped and flattened themselves against the back wall of the building. After Rick screamed past them, the young man jumped back out and cursed with his fist held up high.
Rick took another hard corner to his left and then spotted what he was looking hoping to find. On his left was a small narrow drive between taller buildings. Rick took turn violently into it. Beyond the drive and semi hidden from the street was a very small court yard. Rick suddenly realized the severity of his mistake. He had less than a half second to react. If he stopped he would have an impossible time of turning the car around to get it out.
Fortunately he was still moving fast and had just enough room spin. He pulled on the wheel and jerked the brake. The Maserati spun 180, hit the first brick wall and came to a stop, the back end knocking a little too hard for his liking into the other building. Rick killed the engine and jumped out. He ran back to see what kind of damage he had just done to the back of his car. The back bumper was smashed up and knocked loose but that seemed to be the extent of the damage.
He swore but knew it was relatively easy to fix. His worries about his car subsiding, he listened to see if the pursuing BMW had been able to keep up. There was no way they would see him now unless they turned into this drive-way or they had a helicopter.
Rick checks his watch, to keep track of the time, knowing that the mind will play tricks on you when your blood is flowing. After five minutes of no pursuit he edges the car out. The damage is only cosmetic to the car, but he hates to see it look less than perfect. While he was waiting he contacted Utah, who had made it back to the Hotel and was waiting for him.
Using the two way radio's he had Utah spot for him, and guide him back to the parking garage unmolested by authorities.
They were late for the lunch appointment with Shelia, and she had a less than happy look on her face when Rick and Utah sauntered into the hotel bar and back to the corner table she had gotten.
" You are late, I have been waiting almost twenty minutes for you, where have you been ?"
Utah nudged Rick in the back and spoke up.
"We were just checking out some of the local sites, or Girls in Ricks case, I must say this is a very nice place to do some site seeing."
"Well we have lots to do, so if you don't mind, keep the casanova routine to a low level while we are here. There is lots in the works, I have noticed a high level of spooks working this small resort town in just the three days I have been here. Something must be going on. The intel banter is extremly high"
Utah and Rick just smile, they had started to see it to, which made things even more fun for them.
" I have the adress to the House, Barett has rented for you, it over looks the harbor, not far from here. Here are some more recent photos of the main boats that we believe Roman may be on. In the briefcase by your feet is some more intel on the recent ship pirating that is going on, see if you can piece any of that together while looking for him. There is also a additional twenty thousand Euro in cash to be used, we just got bumped up on priority. I wil meet you in a few days time, Barett has the location. Utah will be team lead, and comunication will come in coded script."
She looked around at the bar then back to Rick.
"Looks like a friend of yours is coming to visit, I don't trust her, so I'm telling you right now, stay away from the reporter. She got a gig covering the opening of the tourist season here this weekend and sent a message to you."
She gets up from the table and leans across to Utah, sliping a note in his pocket and whispering in his ear.
" Keep an eye on your brother, and watch out for the reporter and her camera man."
With that Shelia leaves the bar.
Utah looks at Rick and says,
" what was all that about ?"
What does Rick do ?
Barett sat in the attic, looking out the scope of his .338 cal rifle. Popping some grapes into his mouth he scanned over the yachts sitting out in the bay, watching the rich people be served their morning coffee, while he drank down a bottle of cranberry juice, and chewed on a bagel. He had been up at the crack of dawn, gone for a 10 mile run then did a series of exercises and combat moves to warm down. Now he sat in the snipers hide he had made, sitting back in the shadows of the third floor attic, in the old house one block back from the beach front.
It was relaxing to be by himself for a little bit, just going through his routine. Soon that would all change, Rick and Utah would join him, and based on the amount of activity that he had seen just this morning, things could get exciting fast.
He had with him a spotting scope outfitted with a camera, a laser range finder, and a note book to record distances and landmarks, and dates and times that people and boats were moving about.
Already this morning he had spotted two other people scoping out the bay, both of them sitting in their rooms, in Baretts opinion they were in plain sight, not hidden from view like he was. Later in the day he would do some sight seeing and check out who the other spooks were. The hide was a classic example, although he felt it was to high for a effective exit, the darkened with fabric walls and urban camoflage of old boxes and furniture hid him from view. The attic had a large window vent that looked over the sea and caught the breeze, so it was left open at this time of year like all the other houses in the area.
He watched the bay, recording movements and traffic till lunch, then slid down from his hide and headed into town for some lunch and a walk around to get some ground views of the old town. soon he would meet up with his brothers, and he wanted to visit the bank where Roman was said to keep an account.
“So what is that all about?” Utah asked.
“No way! This has got to be some weird coincidence. Why would she be coming here?” Rick was clearly lost in his own thoughts and not listening to Utah.
“Hey Rick!” Utah said snapping his fingers right in front of his face. “Back here. What is going on? Who’s the reporter? . . . Ooh,” and it dawned on him. “It’s that sexy brunette from the BBC that you ran into isn’t it. Dude, you are seriously stupid. What kind of trouble are you trying to get into? Shelia is right. You need to stay away from her. I’ve seen her work and she is good. I mean really good! She could easily blow all of our covers. ”
Rick’s mind was back with current situation. “I met with her two nights ago in London.”
Utah was floored by this information and his temper was starting to get the better of him. “You what! Of all the stupid things you do?!”
“Hang on.” Rick put his hands up in defense. “There is more to it you need to know. I was following up on a backup plan I have for this Roman character. But it wouldn’t work unless I got some pieces in play before hand and thought of using an outside source that had no connections to us or any of the irregulars. Anyway as you know, I ran into Ms. Bhati at the fire, literally. So before I left London I thought, what the hell, and I called her up with a proposal to see if she would be interested in helping me locate some property down in France or Spain. Well, one thing lead to another and see wanted to meet me. I think she found me interesting so I went for it.”
“You and your libido. It is going to be your undoing , you know.” He was still mad but Rick’s escapade had him interested.
“So I met her at a pub that night right. And we talked.”
“What was she like?” Utah asked seriously, but then he couldn’t help himself and added. “Is she as pretty in real life as she is on TV or is just the makeup?”
“She is shorter than you would think. Nice body, not anything near Maria mind you, but she defiantly has a gorgeous face. But what I am saying is, her story about the fire got the Russian’s attention. They had tapped her lines somehow and were moving in to prove they were untouchable. If I wasn’t there I bet they would have killed her on the spot.”
Barett took out the RS250 Aprilia Motorcycle from the back of the trailer, put on the helmet and jacket. Put a small digital camera in his pocket and drove around to the hotel on the other side of the bay to shoot some photos of the other spooks.
One of the things about split that made it different from the other tourist towns along the coast was the fact that a real city was built behind it. It was a thriving ship building town, with lots of other industry going on as well. So once you left the coast and got out in the suburbs, you found industial parks, manufacturing plants and urban sprawl, and nice wide roads with traffic. It also included a large population base, being the second largest city in the area next to the capital.
Barett slowed the bike down and parked in a small space across from the first hotel, left his helmet on and pretended be working on his bike, while snapping a few photos of the first hotel. It was your typical highend vacation set up, big lobby, with a bar and restarant on the main level. Some sort of Spa connected to it off the back and about six floors of rooms. Barett watched the traffic flow for a few minutes then left in the next burst of traffic. Swinging by a deli he had seen the previous day, he spotted the Swiss Bank that was on his list and stopped in the street by a cafe to check it out, getting a few snap shots off for later recon.
He caught a picture of a girl all dressed in white come out of the bank, she had blond hair and a walk about her that radiated sexuallity. She hopped into a all white Mini-cooper parked in the employee section and headed down the road towards the Palace and Restarant district.
Something about her seemed different and Barett decided to follow her, instead of going to the deli.
Meanwhile back at the hotel bar Utah and Rick were continuing to argue.
“So what you are saying is you saved her life and now she has the ‘hots’ for you and she is coming here to find you?” Utah asked.
“No. There is no way Ms. Bhati knows where I am.”
“Then what did Shelia mean when she said that your girlfriend called?”
“It means that bitch of a woman Shelia, has tapped into my security system!” Rick said quietly but with venom. “Shanzai Bhati doesn’t know anything about me. There is no way she knows who I am, what I do, or even where I went. I’m sure she has some educated guesses and knows I work for the government but that is the extent of it. That is unless someone fed her information from the inside.” Rick said as he glared to the exit Shelia took.
“So you figure Shelia is a mole?”
“I don’t like that woman and she doesn’t like me!” Rick spat. “But Wineburg seems to trust her so I don’t know. The problem that I see is that I gave Shanzai one and only one, contact number that doesn’t get transferred to me. To check it I have to go on the network to see if any calls came in. It should be totally secured, but our friend Shelia knew about it and somehow knew about Shanzai. She must have someone monitoring the BBC’s phone lines and connected the dots after the police were called to the pub. And then she goes and hacks my system. That really pisses me off!”
“I see your point. They brought us in but they don’t trust us.” Utah said. “But even if that is not the case, I still agree with Shelia. You need to stay as far away from this Shanzai Bhati lady as much as possible for two reasons. You can bet she is being watched closely and second, she’s a reporter, and a thumping damn good one at that. I bet she is smarter than both of us. And when it comes to getting information out of someone, a couple winks every few minutes from her and hell she could get anyone to talk. We should be taking lesson from her on how to interrogate.”
“Don’t worry. I’m not planning on seeing her. I am sure she will be too busy with her schedule anyway. She probably doesn’t even know I am here and she won’t have time to meet me anyway.”
“You sound disappointed. You have a thing for her don’t you?” Utah said warningly.
“Relax, she’s not my type.” Rick lied, mostly to himself. “Let’s drop it. Besides, we need to get going. I am think I need to get me some new wheels while we are here. I can’t afford smashing up my own car.”
“That, my little brother is why I am smarter than you. I left mine home where I know it is safe.”
“Is that why you smell like cheese then?”
Utah took a brotherly swing at Rick, who jumped back. “Come on, lest go find you some wheels, check out the local girls to get your mind off your problems, meet up with Barett and kill us some bad guys.”
“I thought this was a sneak and peek mission only? Orders you know.” Rick teased.
“Ha! I don’t know about you but I will be on my best behavior. No bad person will have anything to fear from me.” Utah said sarcastically.
The both left the bar, Utah not liking the situation any better than Rick. They both new two things; First they were being bugged, spied upon, followed, watched, and second, Rick was scheming up some elaborate plan and he was stupid enough to make matters worse because somehow Shanzai Bhati was part of the plan and he would try to contact her.
Rick and Utah hit the rental lots but they had nothing that interested them, it was getting to be midafternoon when they ran across a used car lot out by the E65 freeway. Utah found a nice Audi A8 that was in good shape, black four door about ten years old, brown leather interior. The engine and transmission were in good shape, the interior a little worn, the body had a few dents, some scratches all down one side and front bumper was all dented up.
Taking it for a spin they found the v8 motor powerful and responsive, she wasn't pretty, but she could handle the corners well and had enough room to carry six people if need be.
Rick and Utah roll back into the small lot and watch the salesman come running up to the car.
" So ,is good, yes, not pretty, but like a pretty woman, you are afraid some man will come take her, she good solid car, like farm girl, Yes."
His broken english almost comical the way he spits it out to you.
Utah nods.
" It's ok, but I don't think its worth 3,500 euro's. We were looking for something to drive off with today, you know plates and all. I don't think it's worth it, we may go check out that place over Dubrovnik..."
Utah pauses, waiting to see if the guy will take the bait, he does.
" 3,200 euros, I throw in lisense and regestration, do it right here, no time. Cash only."
Utah looks at Rick, What does he do ?
Meanwhile downtown, Barett parks the bike outside a little restarant that the white mini-cooper sat in front of. The place was crowded for the lunch rush and through the window he could see her sitting by herself at a little table. Barett locked the bike up and took his jacket off. He was wearing a tight black t-shirt that emphasized his muscular chest and arms. He had on a pair of tight black denium pants and black biker boots, with a large expensive dive watch on his wrist, and a silver chain with a shark tooth wrapped in leather around his neck. Catching his image in the front door glass he realized he was the exact opposite look of the girl in the mini-cooper.
Who knows, she may like the bad boy type he thought, maybe she liked the rich bad boy type. That was perhaps a more likely bet and he decided to go that route.
Walking up to the counter he ordered the most expensive thing he could find, dropped the bigest bill he had in his wallet on the counter, and left the rest for a tip and stood there, looking around for a place to sit. He knew there were no good seats, so he confidently walked over to her table and introduced himself.
"May I join you, it seems there is not a lot of spaces to eat in here."
She looked up at him, the blue of her eyes deep and intelligent. She was even better looking up close and personal. She pulled at her long hair, gave him a once over and slid the chair out for him.
" I was just leaving in a minute, so feel free to share the space."
She said it in english, a slight accent to her tone. She was intrigued by Barett, but didn't know why. He had a air of confidence and raw sexuallity that was appealing, she found it was at least a distraction from the numbers jumbling around in her head.
Barett smiled at her, a slight side mouth grin that he had learned from Rick, for some reason girls loved it.
" I'm glad you speak English, I can never tell who does or doesn't in this town. I'm Travis, Are you from around here ?"
She glances at his plate of food and back at him, noting the stainless steel and black rubber professional dive watch, and catching on to his Californian accented english.
" Bianca, and no, just on a short business trip, what about you ?"
Barett glances out to his bike, and back to his boots.
" Came here to check out the bike circuit, see some of Greece and Italy, maybe make it over to the big track in Turkey, everyone said to check out the Dalmation coast, so I stopped in to see some things, do some sailing, some diving, check things out between races...anyway I rattle on, you know just traveling through."
Barett opened it back up to her.
"Oh, that seems like quite the adventure, all on that little Motorcycle you came in on, you must travel very light."
She smiles at him and then goes back to eating her salad.
Barett bites into some sort of stuffed olive thing, that was really good, then cracks the lid on a bottle of imported french water, not as good, but, hey when in rome.
" Yeah, well I make do, how bout you ?"
Barett went back to his plate of food, digging in to some rice mixture wrapped in grape leaves. It was way to much food for him, so he stuck to the bottled water and olives. She let her eyes wander about the busy restarant, pretending to not be that interested.
" Oh, I like to drive, gives one time to think."
She goes about quietly eating the mixed vegtable salad, as they politly banter back and forth for a few minutes, then she stands to leave.
" If you are in town for a few more days, give me a call on Friday night, perhaps we can meet somewhere and have drinks. "
She drops a card with her number on it and heads out the door.
Barett is surprised, he had been putting on the charm and all that, sure. But he figured that she wasn't interested, looks like his charm and flirting had worked. He picked up the card and put it in his pocket, then went back to his very expensive lunch, it was kind of fun, living on someone elses dime and he kicked back and people watched for a few more minutes before leaving and heading off to the next hotel to check out the other spooks 'glassing' the bay.
On a custom Yacht out in the Adriatic sea, Roman sat at his desk reviewing shipping logs and photos of boats provided to him. The piles of papers and photos held in place by a heavy stainless steel handgun, keeping them from blowing in the slight ocean breeze.
He had plenty of boats at the ready, and the trap was being set. He felt the need to teach these so called inteligence agencies a lesson.
The one thing that still eluded him was the other girl, the one the Priest wanted, not the first one they had grabbed.
He yanked the phone off the desk cradle and punched in a long series of numbers.
" Hello, this is 'Papa Bear' I have a special job for the 'Cardinal', the usual fee plus a bonus, and expenses. Yes, it is a hot one, it starts now. The packet will arrive this afternoon with the details, this time the girl hast to arrive alive, or there is no payment. That is the arrangement, alive, yes unlike the other times. Also I need more info on the group 'Manassa's Kingdom', yeah, yeah,... I understand, get me what you can. Three days, yes, 72 hours, fine I will expect your phone call."
He sat the phone down and leaned back in his chair, dealing with the hooded men was always nerve racking, that bothered him, and nothing should bother him, he thought.
He needed a tension release and headed down to the cargo hold. It had been converted into a custom torture chamber, for him.
He strolled through the sound proof door and tapped on the cage. He was going to need some time to work over his latest toy, she was proving to be a great distraction for him. The girl cowered in the corner, trying to stay as far away from him as possible.
He shut the door and locked it, so no one else on the boat could hear her scream.
Meanwhile back at the car lot, Rick and Utah con the dealer into letting them do some modifications to the A8 while they wait for the paperwork to go thru. Rick makes friends with the dealers mechanic and plans out a time to stop by with the Grand Turismo and get the bumper fixed before going back to England.
Its almost dinner time before they start heading back to town to find the House Barett had rented. Utah had placed all the cheese and wine in the A8 claiming that his car didn't have room, but even in the short ride to the house from the hotel, it was starting to stink up the car and Rick drove with the windows down.
The house was only a block off the main coastal road on the south of old down town. A two story with a high pitched rook and large attic overlooking the small house in front, giving a commanding view of the bay. It was easy from here to keep a watch on the boat traffic coming and going. The ferry dock was only three blocks away and there was a constant line of cars coming and going, giving great cover for moving cars about.
Barett was sitting on the back porch waiting for them, sipping a cold drink and snacking on some sort of humus dip and flat bread.
"Welcome to Casa Coontail my brothers, make yourselves at home. I took the bedroom on the mainfloor, there are three others on the second floor."
Barett smiles and points to the bay, holding up a pair of large german binoculars.
" Looks like the first of Roman's boats has arrived, but I don't think he is on it."
Barett looks at Rick and Utah.
"So what is our game plan ? "
“I think we head out there and check out the yacht as soon as it’s dark.” Utah said matter-of-factly as he took the binoculars and stared out over the harbor. “We need to get our bearings and to do that I think we need to take an aggressive imitative. You learn anything further about our missing agent Reagan Huntington, Barett?”
“Not a thing.” Barett said and then turned to Rick while he pulled a grimaced face. “Rick! What stinks?”
Rick dropped a box he was carrying on the table. “Don’t blame me. It’s cheese and there are three more boxes of the stuff and it all belongs to Utah. You better be careful around it though, it’ll peal the paint right off your car after 20 minutes.”
“What’s with the cheese?” Barett asked.
“You two are heathens!” Utah said as he handed back the binoculars. “There is no better place than Bologna to get this expensive gourmet delight, so I better not catch either of you eating any of it. I am shipping it back to England first thing tomorrow morning.”
“Right,” Barett said as he walked over and sniffed the box which caused him to quickly grab is nose. “That stuff must be good. It smells like fermented cantaloupe.”
Utah had moved over to the kitchen to see what Barett had in stock. “Don’t knock it. I’ll make you two clowns something tonight that will make you life converts.”
Utah made dinner while Rick moved his and Utah’s equipment up into the rooms on the second floor. Rick informed Barett about his misgivings with Shelia. Even though Barett insisted that he did a thorough sweep for any bugs, Rick did it again. He came up empty handed but continued to be paranoid that they were being monitored, which Barett insisted was useless worrying and began to tease Rick about having a crush on Shelia. Rick went ballistic over this and questioned Barett’s sanity in conceiving such an idea. Rick’s overreaction was more fuel for Barett as proof of the fact that Rick couldn’t ignore a pretty face and a shapely figure and he was just making a show of things because he failed in wooing Shelia.
Utah ignored the clowning around of his two arguing brothers and made an impressive Italian ‘pesto cheese torta’ for dinner. Making them a dinner might have been a mistake because both Barett and Rick loved it and began shamelessly helping themselves, much to Utah’s annoyance, at his stash of cheeses.
They continued to monitor the yacht in the harbor. It was an older one, about 80ft. in length. It was fly a Greece flag. Utah and Barett thought it was ugly but Rick told them that even though it was obnoxious looking and older it was probably fast, maybe 45 knots or so and he was sure it had fantastic maneuverability. It looked like it was made from carbon fiber and Kevlar which meant it was faster, strong, and lighter that other yachts made of steel or fiberglass.
They all guessed it had a secret hold designed to hide people or cargo, but not a lot. The ship had come in looking mostly empty, according to Barett but it had been loading up of supplies and fuel. They had counted eight different crew members on board. One guy, gray skinned and muscular, looked more ex-military to the brothers and a sailor.
As the sun disappeared into the tranquil sea and the stars came out, the bothers all grabbed their gear and headed out. Rick and Utah went in Utah’s Evo 10 while Barett took his bike. It wasn’t far and they could have easily walked but they wanted wheels to use if they needed to get out of there quickly.
The plan was simple. Utah and Barett were going to make a lot of noise and your general distraction while Rick would swim over to the yacht and check it out. What could go wrong?
Rick was wearing his swimming suit, had a knife strapped to his left leg, water proof rope, some espionage gadgetry sealed in a plastic bag, a MP5 strapped to his front, and he had on a high-tech re-breather he had ‘borrowed’ before he left London. Utah drove along the Obala Lazareta, one-way road that skirted directly next to the harbor. As Utah slowed to make the last turn, Rick opened the passenger side car door and rolled out while the car was still doing 20. He dropped straight down into the water and began swimming toward the tied up yacht. He had ten minutes to get to it and get ready to board before Utah and Barett started the entertainment.
Rick began his quick swim towards the boat, the cool water helping him as his body temp rose from the exercise. He knew a few things from watching the ship, most of the crew left to go into town 2 hrs ago, most likely to the strip clubs which closed in an hour, and only two guys remained on board. The tall muscular gray skinned guy and a skinny little otter like guy, wearing dirty coveralls and hauling tools around.
The dark water was calm, and he took up position at the aft of the boat, waiting for Utah and Barett, watching the countdown on his watch.
Meanwhile up on the shore, Utah had pulled up to the dockmasters office and parked on the street outisde the parking area to spot for Barett who had stopped his bike next to the power pole that was feeding all the secondary power to the docked boats.
It came down to a simple plan really, blow the transformer on the powerpole, it would make a nice pop, and then kill all the lights in the area. If people were doing what they normally did in dock, which was using the docks outlets to run lights and equipment, and let batteries charge on the boats. People would need to go start motors and generators before lights would come back on, that would take some time. Hopefully that would give Rick the window he needed.
Utah signalled to Barett that the coast was clear.
Barett quickly climbed up the pole to the transformer a mere 20 feet off the ground. The old round metal box hummed with electricity. Placing a small explosive charge on the main line coming in, and setting the timer for three minutes. Barett scampered down the pole and was back on his bike in less than a minute, heading out of town the opposite way he came in, checking for tails. Utah was gone to, taking a different route to a location that overlooked the dock, as back up and spotter for Rick once he was on deck.
If all things went as planned, Utah would stay close as back up and spotter for the north side. Barett would head back to the house and get in his snipers hold on the attic, watching the south side and providing firepower if needed, he would be there in less than ten minutes.
The pop of the small C4 preceded the larger snap of electrical arch as the live wires whipped and cracked on the cement, the whole dock flickered for a brief second then went dark, there was a unnatural silence, broken only by the occasional snap and pop of other transformers going out across town and it wasn't long before a quarter of the old town was dark as well.
The plan had gone well, it just took out a whole lot more of the power grid then they expected.
Utah sat in the dark, with a night vision moncular watching the boat.
Rick see's the lights go dark from under the water where he was waiting, knowing that was his signal, What does he do?
Rick climbed up onto the prow of the boat and he was instantly impressed. The yacht was small and older but the craftsmanship was top notch. The steadiness of the boat under his feet and the feel of the material made Rick think that this yacht would turn like a jet ski. It had teak wood deck and stairs in the back which looped around what Rick assumed as the yacht’s storage bay. He would check that last if he had time. He quickly climbed up the stairs to the second level. There was only one door he could see on the prow side that led into the internal cabin area. Rick rushed up to the door. He paused to see if he could hear anything from the other side. This would make a good ambush point he decided so he crouched down to the side and waited for a minute to see if anyone would come out. He had his silencer on his MP5 and was ready to deliver a head shot the second someone exited through the door.
Rick waited by the door, when the large gray skinned man stepped out through the doorway, his bulking frame haloed by a dim light from behind him.
The crack of a high powered rifle rings out as the large mans body falls back into the boat, the spray of blood coming from his shoulder.
There is a gravid pause, while Rick contemplates what just happened.
Static hits his earphone radio, then Utahs voice.
" What the HELL B, he had the target, no need to intervene."
" That wasn't me, we are not secure, repeat, not Secure, that shot came from behind you, 2 clicks, second window.....I have a target, taking my shot."
The "whomp" of a surpressed round tags a window behind Utah and to his left.
" R you have a go, make it or break it, your call. We have your back, don't just sit there, move man move."
Barett lets him know that it is now or never to enter the boat, somewhere inside is a injured man and a very aware companion. But somewhere outside there could be another person with a rifle, perhaps there was only one, no way to tell.
What does Rick do ?
“Well, I didn’t get all dress up for a party and not come to dance.” Rick said. “You guys have my back.”
And with that, Rick rushed the door, MP5 up and ready to fire. He wished he had night goggles. Have those would have made things a little easier. He entered the deck saloon and let his training take over as he swept the room with his gun, looking for any movement. He could clearly see that there were only two room on the top deck, this saloon and wheel house.
Rick can see in the dim light the trail of blood leading across the salon and down the stairwell. The emergency low level baseboard lights allow him to move with out needing any extra light.
The sweep of the room complete, he heads toward the stairwell. As he approaches he can hear the banging of someone walking down a hallway below him, as they stumble into the walls, first to one side then to another,as the gentle waves move the boat from side to side, till they are almost directly below him. There is a yell, in Russian he believes, and some sort of cursing. Then he hears the motors starting to turn over somewhere below in the engine room, a high pitched whine of a sound as they try to warm up. It sounds like they believe the threat to still be outside the boat.
Rick is moving silently in the boat now, what does he do ?
Rick looked around and did a quick layout overview in his head. It looked to him that the only place to pilot the yacht was in the wheel house which was on the second deck. It was also the very place Rick was at. If these guys were planning on taking the yacht out, they would have to come up to him. This could work out well for the brothers. If this was one of Roman’s yachts, then Rick was sure he could hatch into their communication network. He could plant a mole right into their organization. But that meant he would have to commandeer this yacht and then make it look like it was destroyed.
Rick made up his mind. First things first then, he needed to kill these men and kill them quickly and quietly. He had the element of surprise on his side so he went on the attack. His plan was to jump down the stairs onto the bottom level and shoot the two guys each twice in the head. Then he would do a quick sweep of the rooms below before he piloted the yacht out once the engines had warmed up. These guys were planning on taking it out anyway, so no one should be the wiser that the boat had been “confiscated”.
He would have to make it look like the yacht then blew up and appeared to burn and then sink into the sea.
Rick jumps down the stairs, the MP5 pointing the way, the green light laser mounted on the end sweeping the room. He comes down quiet on the floor into a galley area, with a narrow hall leading down towards the back and doors to a room behind him.
As he lands the muscular gray skinned man turns to look at him from the end of the hall in surprise. Rick plants three bullets to his skull before he can move.
The body slumps againest a door and slides down to the floor, blood quickly pooling on the hardwood. Rick can see the large .50 cal Desert Eagle in his hand. The shoulder wound from earlier, was not a kill shot, decidedly not a Barett tactic. The exit wound looked more like a hunting round, perhaps a .243 round or the like. This all went through his head while he swept the area.
From what sounded like the engine room, came a guteral grunt of a sound, that must have been the dead guys name.
No response.
Rick hears the racking of a shotgun, and the clicking of switchs as the lights go completly out on the ship, and the motor whine ramps up.
From his position he believes that the last guy is in the engine room, with a shotgun.
What does he do ?
Rick advanced. He turned off his laser light so he wouldn’t give his location. Following his Capoeira philosophy he crouched low, relaxed his body, concentrated on his fluid movement, and directed his gaze to the front without staring at a single point. There was another narrow hallway that opened into a gallery room. A narrow open door that opened, by the sound of the roar, could only be the engine room was halfway down the second hallway. Rick knew the shotgun had the advantage within this close corridor combat with its scatter shot. Rick wished he had one of his shotguns with him now. Walking through the door that led into the engine room would be like walking into hive and angry hornets.
He needed to draw this last guy out.
Capoeira was about deception and misdirection, so that was the approach Rick decided to take. He rolled back quickly to the big dead man and tied his legs with one end of the rope. Then he quickly threw a section of the rope out around furniture in the room. He picked up the big 50 cal and threw it down the hallway making it knock against the hall and stairs. Just as he threw the gun Rick grabbed the other end of the rope and leaped to the other side of the hall. Rolling to stop he crouched as low as he could and sighted his MP5 on the door to opening into the engine room. He pulled the rope and the dead man began moving, thumping and banging against the wall.
Rick waited to see if his trap worked.
The door creeked open and in the darkness Rick could see a mechanics angled mirror come around the corner. He pulled on the rope and made the big guy move, the blood weeping from his wounds.
The mirror moved around and then back into the engine room. Then out quick as lightening came the small otter guy. He had the meanest looking shotgun Rick had ever seen swung low at waist level, a highpower tactical light attached to the end. It was a three tube set up, pump shotgun. Probably a Kel-Tec KSG high capacity 12 gauge. It had at least 14 rounds in a bull pup stock design, a perfect weapon for close quarters work. In other words, Rick was out gunned, and this guy was moving very quick, and professional.
Rick fired the MP5, the "whomp, whomp" of the surpressed rounds, barley audible above the engine noise.
The otter moved quick dodging in the dark, Rick thinks he winged him but wasn't sure.
The crack of the shotgun was deafening in the close quarters of the boat, and hurt his ears, but the shot went wild. The Otter jumped at Rick and the next thing he knew they were doing hand to hand in the narrow ships Galley.
What does Rick do next ?
Rick stayed crouched to the floor, halfway into a small room. The otter, whose fir was the shade of burnt toast, must of mistaken Rick’s position as his first swing was high and empty. But he was fast and reacted in an instant to his mistake. Rick attempted a low leg sweep meant to have knocked the man on his back. But the otter was quick and jumped clear.
Rick’s move was enough to frustrate the otter’s momentum and strategy changed faster than a pen can leak ink into a shirt pocket. Rick recognized his opening and shifted to take advantage of his centrifugal speed. Spinning once like a mad little tornado, Rick’s left foot followed the dodge to land a surgical kick to the otter’s sternum. Bones snapped on impact and exploded back into the otter’s organs. The sound of the snap cascaded over the otter’s head like cracking of a bronze bell.
“How in the hell did you do that.” Was what otter tried to say as he collapsed backwards but it came out as “HOooaahl.” He struggled to breath and got two gulps of air before he became motionless in death.
Rick had landed a lucky blow and he knew it.
Rick dropped down next to the man and checked his neck to see if there was still a pulse. There was none. Picking up the man’s shotgun, Rick began to scrutinize it. This was no ordinary pump shotgun. The first thing he noticed, of course, was the twin tube magazines. Rick turned the gun over and examined the bullpup configuration. It was ingenious. It was simple enough yet so radical that he wished he had thought of the design. The gun had two 7-rounds tubes and a mag feed switch lever located behind the trigger guard. If it had been designed like a typical pump action shotgun, holding it fully loaded (7+7+1 rounds) out at arm’s length would be quite a challenge. But the bullpup design of this gun put the center of gravity at about the position of the pistol grip which meant that you could support the weight close to your body. It loaded and ejected through the bottom, behind the pistol grip.
Rick smiled a big boyish grin and saluted thanks to the dead otter. This tactical shotgun was a thing of deadly beauty and it was Rick’s latest favorite toy.
Rick believed the yacht was now cleared but he decided it would be wise to do a sweep of each room first. With his new shotgun at his side he moved back to the engine room and found the power box with ease. He flipped the fuse back into place as the lights turned back on.
Rick began at the back and searched each room; military style with a kick to open the door followed by an instant snap of a gun barrel in the face of anyone occupying the room. Moving past the back rooms, Rick moved into the yacht’s main galley.
Rick paused and surveyed the boat, the last cabins were the crews, the forward ones were the guests, based on what was left in them. The first two cabins he entered were clean, one seemed to be the large grey shark mans the other the captains. That left the main cabin in the bow to be the master. Rick stood still and listened, his ears atuned to the shuffle of feet, and heavy breathing. He could sense someone waiting for him on the other side of the cabin door, and hear the slight movement of bare feet on the other side. Leaning againest the wall and leveling the shotgun at the door he bellowed in his most intimidating, threatening voice, a real master sargent kind of bark.
" It's time to surrender, put your weapon down and come out with your hands up."
It echos through the boat, and the person on the otherside of the door jumps and bangs into the wall. Rick thinks in the back of his mind ' I hope they understand english'.
He hears the sound of a round being jacked into a pistol, and yells out again.
" Drop your weapon and surrender."
He hears a female voice in broken english from the inside of the cabin.
" Why should I surrender, you will only shoot me to...what guarantee do I have ?"
Rick puts on his most trusting voice, to reassure the woman behind the door.
"Look, you are really out of choices, but I personally guarantee that you will not be killed if you give up now."
The door slowly opens, and a attractive light gray skinned almost to the point of being white, women with large blond hair stands in the doorway with a 9mm pistol by her side.
Rick yells at her again.
"Drop the gun or I shoot now. "
He waves the menacing shotgun up her body to her head.
The pistol falls to the floor at her feet, and she puts her hands behind her head in a surrender motion. She is wearing a sheer type night gown over a matching set of french cut panties and black lace bra. In the dull lighting of the cabin he can tell she is an attractive and fit middle aged women of about thirty five, of dolphin or shark mix, perhaps related to the dead shark man in the back of the boat.
She looks over his shoulder at the empty boat and smiles. There is a faint click and a light mist sprays Rick in the face, coming from her hair.
At first he is nausiated, then slightly euphoric, like being drunk. Whatever the drug in the mist was, he didn't want anymore of it in him, backing up quickly he swiftly puts his re-breather in to gain some fresh air and clear his head.
While he is distracted she grabs the gun on the floor and fires at him, the bullet skinning his left thigh, and richoting down the hall.
Wasting no time Rick jumps at her knocking the gun to one side and striking her in the chest with his knee, knocking her back onto the large bed in the master cabin.
Rick comes down hard on top of her, pinning her arms with his legs. His large dive knife at her throat, and thoughts of just finishing her right off cross his mind.
But he remembers that they need info on Roman, and she may be a girlfriend of sorts with lots of inside details they could use.
From this close he can tell she is wearing a wig, and rips it off from her head, revealing a small tubing device with a nozzle and small trigger in it. Her head bald and smooth, making her look more menacing and deadly without the wig.
Backhanding her once to remind her that she is in his control, as he fights to keep from throwing up or passing out. He grabs the cord from the phone on the night table and ties her hog style, legs and hands behind her back, laying her on her side on the bed.
The fresh oxygen from the re-breather helping him recover faster.
Tapping the speaker he calls the boat in 'clear' to Utah and Barett and heads up to the deck, freeing the boat from its moorings, he fires the motors up to full and pulls it out from the dock and heads out to open water in the darkness of the powerless bay.
Rick navigates out of the bay with the Yacht, a customized set up with a carbon fiber hull reinforced with kevlar. Two large jacuzzi motors allow the boat to reach speeds up to 48 knots and the hull design makes it operate more like a ski boat than a 115 foot yacht, allowing some quick turns. The motors are quiet even at full speed, and the wake is no bigger than a twenty foot ski boat, Rick was very excited.
He eased the yacht out into open water and set it to idle in the forward set helm station that gave a commanding view of the city of Split. The Yacht had a real military feel to it and set up on its controls and communications layout was more like a submarine than a yacht, this was more than just a pleasure cruise ship, it was a tool, sharp and deadly.
Tapping back on the special two way radio secured to his throat, Rick called back to Utah and Barett.
" R to B and U, I have secured the Package and acquired additional material, require meeting at north location for consult and evaluation."
The radio stays silent for a few seconds then cracks to life.
"Roger that R, we confirm ETA 10 minutes to meeting, B has made Hard contact here on shore, no local response yet, confirm your status."
"I have two hard contacts, one soft, object clear."
" Roger that, contact in zero minus ten, for meeting. U out."
Rick heads down to the galley and grabs a bottled water from the fridge, pouring half of it down his throat and the other half on the bleeding gash across his leg.
Pulling the women from the bed by the cord wraped around her arms and legs he hauls her roughly up the stairs to the forward helm station and ties her down to the co-pilots high mounted chair, using some rope on the deck.
She stares at him with her blue green eyes, her lips in a meanacing purse.
" You know he will kill you, He is a very powerful man, he will come looking for me."
She spits it out in her thick eastern European accent.
Rick ignores her and wraps a towel aroung his leg, then kicks the chair around so that she spins wildly for a few seconds.
" I really hope he does come for you, looks like we both are thinking the same thing."
Moving the yacht to the north end of town by the local fishing docks, he meets up with Barett and Utah who had borrowed a small motor powered fishing boat to get out to the new Yacht.
Slinking over the back like two assasins, they run a second quick search themselves, just like in training, leaving nothing to chance. Coming back up on deck they find the woman staring back at them, blindfolding her and covering her ears they conference at the back of the boat.
Rick tells them the whole story and they decide to return and ambush the rest of the crew. Dumping the two bodies naked into the bay tied to some weights to keep them on the bottom for a few weeks they head back to split to set up the ambush.
Rick moves the boat to about 2 miles from the port and the three brothers pile into the small speedboat kept on the Yacht. Tying up to the end of the same dock they set a simple ambush.
Barett takes up a sniper position on the end of the next dock over giving him a clear view of the empty space the yacht once held. The dim lights from the city and what few boat lights are on give him jsut the right amount of light, but hides his position. Rick and Utah hide on a dark boat right across from the empty spot.
Soon the sailors all return in a heavily drunken state, expect for the Captain.
The thump, thump, thump of three surpressed rounds strike the three biggest guys, and down they fall. There is a pause of confusion and misunderstanding among the group, but battle training kicks in and they start to move as Rick blasts one straight into the bay with the new shotgun, Utah takes out the captain with his Gerber hunting knife to the throat. Rick shoots the last guy with the shotgun, but only wings him, as he dives into the water.
Not wanting to let him escape Rick dives into the water after him, knife in hand. The dark water is refreshing, but hard to see in.
The spash of water next to him, gives him warning, as the thick blade of a six inch dagger goes for his throat. Blocking with his wrist he deflects the blade and it glances off his shoulder leaving a shallow cut.
Rick counters with a left jab, followed by a quick slash across the face of the attacker with the knife in his right hand. Attempting to parry the punch the russian salior feels the cold steel of Ricks blade across his face, then the sudden puncher of his lung as Rick drives the blade deep into his chest. Soon it is all over and Rick climbs back up on the dock, hauling the body with him.
Barett arrives a few minutes later and all the bodies are loaded onto the speedboat. It didn't take much more than five minutes to finish the whole crew up, and they take them all out to the same spot in the sea and dump the bodies.
Back at the Yacht called the 'Moon Goddess' Barett fixes up Ricks cuts as Utah cleans the blood from the deck and halls, just in case, he says.
Staring at the girl, Rick tells what he knows of her to Barett, seeing if he can get anything out of her. Stripping her down to search for any other hidden weapons or traps they leave her tied up naked on the deck of the boat. Utah and Barett both try the interrorgation techniques they had used on them in military training and recent espionage school, but don't get much from her.
She does reveal that she works for Roman, running his Brothels and clubs in the adriatic sea, and has done so for the last few years. Her name is Natasha, and she is thirty six years old, and from Russian. But as for any tactical information that they might be interested in, she doesn't share. There is some discussion about just killing her and dumping her body as well, but it is decided that Shelia should have a chance to question her before that happens. They decide to take the boat out to Hvar, Utah and Rick are to take it out in to the sea while Barett heads back to town to do clean up and get Utah's car back to the house, taking the small fishing boat back to shore. Locking the dolphin woman in one of the crews bunks they finally settle down in the boat about three in the morning, waiting for dawn.
Rick spends most of the night dismantling the security system and wiping out all tracking devices on the boat.
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