Barett and Bianca....In the Bay of Hvar

Barett sat on the Vintage looking motorcycle in deep thought, staring at the carnage left in the old churches parking lot. Based on the shell casings that littered the area around the bodies and overturned van, Utah and Rick had a small pitched battle right below him. Since they were gone and so was the car, he imagined that they were still alive. The large dead Elephant zombie chopped into pieces and laying in the crushed frame of the van was leading Barett to believe this was less of a "Outbreak" and more of a attack. Following that line of thought, if this was an attack, and they were the targets, who knew where to find them, and how to find them. All fingers pointed back to Roman and Carla, the two were intimately connected somehow. He started to question her escape story, and motives. But with the attack in the E.U and others planned he could only imagine what was really at play here, but the two of them were connected and held secrets that would explain all of this somehow to him.

If these were planned attacks, and these were the medically altered zombies, like the ones Rick had a run in with, in Paris, this indicated a vast resource and planning that was detailed and methodical. He found the idea that someone would go to this kind of effort to kill them, well, kind of impressive that they had reached that level of threat.

All of this spoke of the E.o.H, it was expensive, and required some sort of diabolical mind. In their past dealings this was right at their level.

He decided to check out the surrounding area, the zombies just didn't wake up and wander our from the sea below, and across the lavander fields and farmers dirt roads. Someone had to bring them here, someone who was able to take directions. The Girls were up waiting in the Mini-cooper wide-eyed staring at the amount of bodies strewn across the parking lot.

Barett had made his mind up, he was going hunting for someone to interrogate, old school style.

Zombie Apocalypse on the Island

They stared down the hill towards the bay. It was dark, but the 3/4 moon and lack of lights on the city helped illuminate the scene. The three women stared at the unnaturally dark city, they each looked at the other. Carla spoke up first.

" I say we wait for "Roach" here, something is wrong with the town, better if we stay in a place we can exit faster from here, than the narrow roads of the city."

The others nodded their heads in agreement, it seemed like the best thing to do, for now.

" Who's Roach? "
Bianca asked nervously from the drivers seat.

" He's the guy that just saved your ass, he should be along soon. "
Maria chipped in.

" Oh, so are you like his Girlfriend or something, he seemed very interested in your safty. He told me yesterday his name was Brad something ?"

Maria looked annoyed, then softened, then her and Carla started laughing, it was a tension breaker, and Bianca started laughing to.

" I'm not his girlfriend and neither is she, Roach is his nickname." Maria got out between bouts of laughing with Carla.

"So, how do you know Brad "

" He flirted with me the other day at a little cafe during lunch in Split, so I was surprised to see him here, but Hvar does have all the best clubs. I gave him my number, hoping to hook up again with him, he's cute and charming in a bad boy kind of way. So why do you call him Roach ?"
Bianca was trying to get any info she could from these two beautiful women, neither of whom seemed to be romantically tied to Barett, which she did find confusing.

"Just a nickname his brother gave him, don't really know much more than that. But you need not worry about him, he's a nice guy."

Maria and Carla exchanged glances, and this was not lost on Bianca.

Serious but not Desperate : The Hunt is on.

They all sat in the basement of the old church in Hvar, staring each other down, or at least staring at each other. Carla and Shelia sat across from each other on the old metal chairs, pulled around in a semi-circle. Carla was quietly sipping a french bottled water and Shelia, was checking her SAT phone every few seconds hoping something would come through adding more light on what had happened in Glasgow. Rick, Utah Blaine, Barett, Psy and Zeus were staring at the intel on the TV then back to the floor where maps and charts were laid out. The Church had been converted into some sort of Museum, but it also had the satellite connections that Rick needed. Several wires ran haphazardly across the floor connected to various pieces of electronic equipment and one humming laptop, piled onto the folding table in the middle of the room. The cool air and slight breeze from a open window on the far side of the room would have made things pleasant, but the tension in the room from the recent events made everything feel a little hot.
Carla had know the museum keeper some how and helped them get set up in the basement, while the Museum was closed for some sort of renovation of the roof. They had just settled in, the afternoon heat starting to fade as evening approached. Rick was bent over the laptop typing voracously into it, like he was on some speed typing event. Utah was rehashing what intel they did know, trying to make sure they had covered all their bases, and going over the plan.

" Look we know that Roman has 'Medically Altered Zombies' he plans to use on the boat for some strange reason. That the 'Chirstina O' was going to be a trap seemed obvious, now we know what kind of trap. But Roman will be on that boat, so if it is agreeable to all, Rick and Shelia will take our invite and go onto the boat as guests. They will be wired up so that we can monitor everything from here. Carla will stay back here and relay information out to us. Psy and Zeus will sneak onto the Christina O and do some recon. Barett and I will be on the 'newly acquired Yacht' as back up. "

Utah paused, looking down at the map of the boat and the local island map.

" What we need to do is make contact with Dave and Maria, find out what they are up to and why the two of them are together in such a cozy way."

Rick made a coughing noise.

" Assumed cozy way. at least."

Utah continued, with out even acknowledging Ricks comment.

"Alright then, any other ideas or input ?"

ACT Three : Hvar and the Brothel

Rick Loved the new boat, it was everything you could want in a Yacht, well ok, it was a little on the small side at only 115'. But beyond that it was a real work of mechanical genius.
They rolled into the Bay of Hvar just after Dawn. Barett was going to take the ferry in, bringing his motorcyle but they hadn't heard from him just yet. Luckily for Rick and Utah the boat had just been restocked, the freezers freshly loaded and the diesel tanks topped off. For all purposes it was ready to go. Rick had started working on changing some things about it already, for one thing the baby blue color needed to go, and the name, it needed to change as well.
Searching the boat they found lots of money and expensive cloths, drugs and piles of porn, piles of porn being an understatement there was a lot of it. Weird, torture stuff all the way down to some mild erotica, five or six crates of it at least.
Utah looked it over and whistled.

" These dudes are into some bad stuff, they have the feel of some Modern day Gadianton Robbers, bad Mojo all over this, and that lady in the room....she is Evil....nothing good left in her, I won't feel bad about whatever happens to her."

Rick looked back at his brother from the helm of the boat as they started towards the dock area.

"Hey, what are we going to do if they board us and search the boat ?"

Act Two : The Big Boat Party of Roman's

Shelia stared at the embossed invitation, the paper was expensive, but contained no other information than what was printed on it. The lab had spent a whole day analzing it and came back with little more information than what was able to be deducted off of just looking at it.
A local print shop in Split had made them for Roman as per one of his assistants directions, and they were all mailed at the same time. From the Humanintel on the street, all the local diplomats had gotten one. Shelia's had been forwarded to her by the agency, after they had gone over it. One thing was clear, it was a strange trap, but a trap none the less. Why was he inviting every spy in the Adriatic region to party on his boat ?
The note read as follows.

Mr. Roman requests the pleasure of your company on Saturday at Dock 19, Split harbor.
For the grand arrival of his new boat the famous " Christina O", Casual attire is permited
and refreshments will be served. A short trip out to the islands and back will be taken.
Please plan accordingly. Ship leaves promptly at 5 p.m.
No need to RSVP, all persons holding this invite will be allowed on board.

Sincerly Roman

Shelia put the note in her bag, trap or no trap she was going to attend, the problem being, what was Roman planning, and who of the spooks now in Split would recognize her?
She was to meet up with the three brothers in a few hours out on Hvar, and she hadn't decided what to tell them yet.
Dave Coontail was still deep undercover and hadn't reported in yet, perhaps he had some intel on what was going on. The details on the ship were more historical than informative.

The 'Christina O' was originally built in 1943 as a Canadian convoy escort, purchased in 1954 by Onassis and converted into a megayacht, it became his residence. Many famous people have been guests on the ship including the 'James Bond' writer Ian Flemming, an ironic twist now that so many real spies were invited to attend a party on it's decks. After Onassis death in 1975 it changed hands many times, most recently it was dry docked in Greece where Roman bought it from a company that had restored it for a Persian firm that went bankrupt, and the boat came up on the open market for 35 million Euro's. Roman had just bought the boat, and it was sailing over to Split for the opening of the tourist season, and the annual boat show. The bay would be crawling with yachts of all types and sizes, making the meager customs officials overloaded, the perfect time to slip something thru the ports. As the brothers always said, " Overload the system and just slip on in" something they had done time and time again.
Shelia placed the photos of the boat and its layout in her purse and left the wheel house communication station on the yacht she was staying on, allowing the captain back in. Moving down to her cabin she removed the secret panel under the bed and pulled out the customized high pressure tranqualizer gun made for her and slipped it into her purse.
To no one she said outloud.
" Let the party begin"

Act one : The Town of Split, all the kings men.

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.

Prolog

It was the ungodly time of 3:28 in the morning when the only people who enjoyed being up where peppy morning show news anchors and bar hopping lunatics who still believed they could down four more pints of liquid amber before they needed to turn in for the night.

The military men were not happy about the fact that they were still awake. It had been a grueling 36 hours of training and people were getting slow. Everyone was wet and cold and stressed. Two opposing groups were participating in the exercise, the soldiers from A and C companies of The Royal Gurkha Rifles (RGR) had staged themselves against two fireteams of irregulars. That is to say, about 450 men against 8. The two irregular teams had split up into 4 teams of two individuals to make the hunt more interesting. The two yank-brothers were together and a far bit ahead south of the pursuing RGR.

Rick was caring the 180 pound dummy that was their simulated “wounded comrade”. Utah was working point.

Rick pressed his two-way short range radio mike twice.

“Copy,” Utah whispered in answer.

“Buddy’s hemorrhaging again.” Rick whispered into the mike. The card deck of this game was stacked against the irregulars as their trauma manikins had tracking devices in them. Hemorrhaging was code that it was transmitting a signal.

Utah answered with two static clicks to his mike, and he hunkered down into a hollow. He searched the perimeter with his night scope to check for any close unfriendlies. A few seconds later, Rick slid in behind Utah and unceremoniously dumped the dummy and then dropped down beside it, totally out of breath.

“We need to stop playing by their rules big brother.” He said as he tried to catch his breath. “I really don’t want to run another 8 miles while the Colonel cheats and gets his giggles playing master of the Quorn fox hunt.”

“I agree,” Utah said as he leaned back against the muddy embankment and slams his fist into the trauma manikin to scramble the electronics again. “They stacked the deck in their favor, and you know they will boast that they are better than us. I say change the game.

Rick propped forwarded and slowed his breathing. “What do you have in mind?”

“You think the Colonel is out in the middle of this or home sleeping?”

Rick smiled, guessing what his brother was thinking. “Sleeping, you want to go after him?”

“Why not? His objected is to see how strong his security is and see if they can hunt us down. Our objective is to penetrate the base, rescue a prisoner,” he pointed his thumb back at the dummy. “And then evade getting caught. Let’s dump that damn dummy and go for something a little more animated. That should teach him how strong his security is at any rate.”

“So we booby-trap the dummy and then double back and get another one?”

“Take the Colonel while he has his pants down around his ankle.” Utah said as he pulled out two simulated IEDs.

Rick suppressed a laugh. “That will make us popular. What about the rest of the team?”

“Ah, let them run around and get some exercise. It will be good for the newbies.”
The two placed the first IED in an obvious location and then set a second hidden trap. Then they headed south. To avoid being seen by any thermal imaging as the “hunting” party passed them they went swimming across cold waters of Loch Migdale, humped the hill and dropped down onto the A949. There they were able to hitch a ride up to Carbisdale Castle Youth Hostel where they stashed their MILES gear (Multiple Integrated Laser Engagement System designed to detect laser pulses that determine if someone was 'hit' during training engagements), cleaned up and changed into some “borrowed” clothing. After the clean change they easily walked through the main gate of the RGR base. No one even asked to see their badges. Sure enough, the Colonel was home in bed. After cutting the phone line and setting the security alarm into a harmless feedback loop, the two walked unnoticed into the Coronel’s house, bagged the fat otter, and drove out in his own Mercedes with tinted window.

Interestingly, the Colonel took the whole this in stride and even enjoyed himself. He was writing notes like crazy and asked the brothers questions about what his RGR teams had done well and what obvious security issues they had found. The trip to Scotland had ended well with an added surprise bonus. Utah had stumbled on a classic Aston Martin DB5 Vantage Convertible and fallen head over heels for it. It was worse than when Utah fell in love for some dame. The car was all he would talk about. The owner didn’t know what he had and was trying to get rid of the old thing. He happy sold it for the insane prince of a 10 pound which was an absolute steal! Utah arranged to have it delivered to London and the money spending spree began to restore the rare car.

Dave, who had been mysteriously absent to go north for the training in Scotland, was back. He was at first especially itching to get his hands into the thick of things to fix up the Aston. Everyone was aware that Dave us up to some secretive activities and even though they pestered him about what it was, Dave wouldn’t talk about it. This really bothered Utah who in turned absolutely refused to let Dave touch his car. It was his baby and he was going to do it himself. Rick, like Utah was likewise annoyed with his little brother but let Dave help him on own car, the Maserati GT. Rick thought Utah’s outright rejection of any help from his youngest brothers was odd but he just thought Utah was being moody. However, a palpable tense was building between the brothers.

Dave ended up disappearing just two day before Barett returned from China with a story that they could hardly believe. Barett joined in the fun of vehicle modification by getting himself a huge covered trailer full of mechanical gear, a few BMW 1200cc Enduro, and a monster Mercedes Benz G55 AMG. Utah’s and Rick’s jaws just hit the ground. Barett hinted that he an outside sponsor to help him with setup expenses.
The three spend almost every waking minute fixing and fiddling with their cars; that and talking about women. One day Maria came by to visit them. She had dyed her hair black and was wearing a seductive one-piece dress of white with silver embroidering. After flirting with the three brothers and getting a grand tour of their work, she kissed Utah and Barett on the cheeks and then she and Rick went off to talk. She was leaving for a long mission and wanted to say goodbye.

After a few weeks the brothers were more or less done. Rick had his white Maserati. Utah’s Aston turned out to be a truly beautiful piece of seductive artwork, an absolute gem from its custom hand-stitched black suede leather dash, sleek forest green paint job, to its polished, and somewhat modified, V8 Volante Tadek Marek engine. Barett had heavily armored his Mercedes G55. He panted it black and added carbon fiber mirrors, vents in the fenders, and a larger front grill. He increased the engine performance to 750 hp, included new electronics, and re-engineered the transmission. The thing was beast of a power house.