Last Out From Roaring Water Bay (15 page)

Big-nose was relentless and began tearing into my mind again. “What’s McClusky planning?” he bellowed in my ear.

“How the frigging hell should I know! I don’t even know him.”

“Talk, now!”

“I don’t know.”

Big-nose gave a hand signal and out of the corner of my eye I saw Spotty-face unleashing another dart. My body tensed as the dart smashed into my left thigh with a sickening thud. I arched and squirmed, clenching my teeth in readiness for the oncoming blast of pain. I soon realized that the bigger the muscle, the more intensified the agony and I was hurting inside. When the pain eased I was dripping with sweat and I couldn’t stop my body from shaking.

Big-nose was at me again. “What’s McClusky planning?”

“I’ve no frigging idea!”

Another dart penetrated my right thigh.

Big-nose pushed his face into mine. “Is it wise to suffer for a mere piece of information?” He said and moved away.

I had no time to plead. The pain had already kicked in and began to rip through my thigh. I thought I was screaming but I couldn’t be sure. I wanted the pain to stop, but I had to show these bastards that I’m not easily intimidated despite what they inflicted on me.
Mind over matter! Mind over matter!
I kept telling myself. And the more I held on, the more Big-nose got agitated and frustrated because his ingenious plan was failing right in front of his eyes.

Spotty-face still had that horrible grin when he approached me to retrieve the darts dangling from my body. The bastard deliberately retracted each dart slowly as he watched me wince with each pull. He took particular delight when removing the dart from my hand, observing the spectacle with vampirism asperity, fascinatingly amused as the blood oozed from the wound. He then returned to his starting position, dipped the tips of the darts into a liquid solution, and waited eagerly for the signal for him to unleash his darts into my body.

Big-nose went on, “Be the hero. We’ve all the time in the world to break your resistance. Now tell me what McClusky is planning to do with our merchandise and I assure you the pain will stop?”

“You’re going beyond the extremes of stupidity, Mister! I don’t kn…”

I never got the chance to finish as two darts, one after the other, rammed into my left and right breast muscles, penetrating the thickness of my Bomber jacket with ease. Within seconds the pain was unbearable. My chest was on fire and caving in. I struggled to catch my breath and in between my agonies Big-nose was shouting quick-fire questions in my face.

“Tell me what McClusky has planned?

“Where are my weapons?

“Why suffer for scum like McClusky; he’d sell you out with a click of his fingers.”

Through the hurt and gritted teeth I fought back. “I don’t…know,” I said weakly.

“How many men does he have at the warehouse?”

I shook my head.

“Tell me the strength of their armaments?”

“How many…times…do I have…to say, I…don’t know,” I gasped.

“You will tell me now!” he ravaged in my eardrum.

I found some inner strength from somewhere and flew into a short rage. “Frigging ask him yourself!”

The dart that penetrated my left shoulder muscle put me in deep trouble. I was so disorientated that for a moment I couldn’t even scream anymore. I screwed my eyes so tight to fight the onslaught of pain that I never even felt the stinging force of Big-nose’s cane as he slashed it against the side of my face in a burst of uncontrollable rage.

“Talk you scraping of excrement!” he ranted “What deviousness is McClusky contemplating in his sick mind?”

As my suffering eased, I said, “Aren’t you the one that’s sick, using me as a pincushion. Asking me questions I can’t possibly answer. How many times do I have to say, I don’t work for McClusky.”

In a remarkable turn-around, Big-nose was calm again. “Either you’ve an incredible resistance to pain and have such loyalty to a traitor like McClusky or you obviously don’t know anything worth pursuing. If you did, you’d be squealing like a pig to tell me what I want to know. So big hero, who are you, besides an incompetent burglar?”

“Does it matter who I am?”

Big-nose quickly raised his hand to stop Spotty-face from throwing another dart. “Your name or the pain continues.”

For awkwardness, I said, “Noddy!”

Big-nose slashed his cane across my mouth. I howled a mixture of obscenities, feeling the instant trickle of warm blood leaking from my throbbing split lips.

He pulled a quick smile, and said, “Strange how the details we found inside your wallet spell Shackleton Speed. Or just maybe you are a thief or a damned good liar.”

“I still don’t work for McClusky!”

“I’ll be the judge of
that
.”

“Why don’t you ask him? He might even tell you how he tried to kill me; twice.”

“Kill you!” Big-nose scoffed. “Why should he want to do that?”

“How should I know? I might have found out but someone decided to smash the back of my skull and drag me away.”

“What were you hoping to achieve at his warehouse all alone?”

There seemed no point holding back any longer. “Blow it to smithereens if I had to. I intended to break-in hoping to find some evidence against him. He’s responsible for murdering friends of mine. I needed to know what I was up against. I didn’t think it was wise to introduce myself at his front door, mainly as a precaution to prevent him shooting my frigging head off.”

“And what were your intentions afterwards?”

“Pass what information I can find onto the police and let them deal with him.”

“You should have mentioned all this earlier. It might have saved you a lot of anxiety and pain.”

“You never gave me the frigging chance. I was battered unconscious, kidnapped and trussed up as if I was a trophy. And then you had one hundred and eighty over there displaying his future darting ambitions upon my body.”

Big-nose showed no remorse. “It’ll teach you to stick to whatever you do best. Now why should McClusky want to kill your friends?”

I shrugged. At least I think my shoulders twitched visibly considering my clothing was nailed tight to the stanchion. “I’m not sure,” I said.

“Perhaps you were interfering with one of their operations?”

“I hardly think that’s the problem. Until a few hours ago I’d never even heard the name McClusky. Not until two of his henchmen came harassing and threatening me.”

“What did they want?”

“It’s a long story.

“Going somewhere, Speed?”

As only a fool would take unnecessary punishment for the sake of a slice of truth, I told them everything that had happened, that was, everything they needed to know to convince them I would be no threat to Big-nose and his army. I went through the entire episode from the discovery of the plane, through to my untimely presence at the docks, though I did make a few alterations along the narrative route, a few white lies to protect the innocent and wisely forgot to mention the gold bullion. When I’d finished I waited for their reactions.

I sensed Big-nose wasn’t convinced. “McClusky wouldn’t make all that fuss over a piece of plane wreckage, a few war relics, a corpse and a ghost submarine locked in someone’s imaginary head. There has to be more.”

“There is no more.”

“What did you intend to do if you found this submarine?”

“Claim the salvage rights and sell it of course! People are willing to pay for pieces of unseen war memorabilia, even a war museum.”

“Good grief!” Big-nose exploded angrily. “This is what our planning has achieved, the capture of a grieving metal detector enthusiast out for revenge, who still has his wits about him to make a dishonest profit.” He looked me sternly in the face. “Honour and greed don’t mix, I can assure you. As for lurking around McClusky’s I think you fell lucky to drop into our hands rather than his or you’d have been mixed up with animal feed and fed to the pigs by now.”

Frigging hell I nearly burst out laughing.
Lucky,
after what they’d inflicted on my suffering body. Given the choice, I think I would have seriously taken my chances of being fed to the pigs.

The girl edged forward in military fashion, stood straight almost to attention, hands behind her back, eyes forward, not looking directly at her commander. “Have I permission to speak, sir?”

Now it could have been my imagination concerning the woman, but I had noticed on a couple of occasions, when I came under attack from spotty face, that beneath her hard exterior I thought I glimpsed a softer side, a slight squirm when the dart penetrated my flesh. I did, of course, change my opinion when she smirked afterwards.

Big-nose nodded his approval for her to speak.

“I’ve heard the name, Shackleton Speed mentioned before,” she said. “This guy is headline news in Europe and America, regarded as renegade by treasure trove officialdom. Many historical artefacts that have illegally left British shores are down to him alone. There were two accusations I recall; both made the newspapers here and in America. One concerned a medallion reputedly lost by the Parliamentarian Oliver Cromwell while in battle. The medallion turned up in an American’s private collection. It didn’t please the English heritage who regarded this prisoner as nothing but a criminal.”

This woman had some memory, I admired. I said in my defence, “Speculative nonsense. Nothing was proven so less of the criminal.”

She ignored me and went on. “And only last year, a jewel encrusted broach belonging to Mary Queen of Scots, which she apparently lost on a coach journey to London, mysteriously turned up at New York jewellers. I’ve seen the jewel. A magnificent piece displayed in such grandeur. Again the name Shackleton Speed was linked.” She looked me accusingly in the eyes. “Do you deny that also?”

“I do, categorically! I’m a man of honour. I would never sell a lady’s jewels for money.”

She didn’t stop there. “Roman coins in abundance and Saxon gold bracelets. The list is endless. This guy is your modern day marauding archaeologist whose historical value on items he finds means nothing more than making the next dollar or two.”

Big-nose wasn’t amused by any of my antics and said, “So you’re nothing but a fucking thief and a useless commodity to us.”

“Thanks,” I said under my breath.

“It’s apparent you were in the wrong place at the wrong time. That is unfortunate. It’s a pity you couldn’t tell us anything about McClusky.”

As Big-nose turned to leave the room, I said sharply, “Surely you’re not intending to keep me here, only I’m in need of medical attention. And I’m frigging hungry!”

Without warning the girl struck me twice across the face and rammed her knee into my groin with such power and precision it sent my balls splaying at different angles inside my pants.

“Speak when you’re told to, Buster,” and she meant it.

I tried to say something else. “I’m only-.”

But she cut me off by ramming her clenched fist into my solar plexus with some considerable power for a female, leaving me gasping for breath. “Keep your mouth closed tightly, if you know what’s good for you!”

Big-nose smiled thinly. “That’s my girl,” he said with satisfaction.

I guess Big-nose was still agitated as he left, something I defined by his continual slashing of the cane against his thigh. The others followed silently. The door shut and I was left alone in a state of discomfort. I was also very concerned about what was going to happen to me next. That didn’t mean I’d given up any hope of escaping as I had made some solid observations. I knew the door wasn’t locked and I worked out that only the top two treads of the stairway squeaked. My only real problem was freeing my clothing.

At least I’d something to smile about when I heard Big-nose bawling at his troops, calling them incompetent imbeciles for capturing the wrong man. He finished by stating that their entire mission had been a diabolical shambles and that they were a disgrace to the regiment. I wondered what regiment he meant because I was unsure if terrorists did have regiments. I did suspect they were IRA but I quickly changed my mind because I was still alive.

It went quiet downstairs. Half an hour later I heard a vehicle door slam shut and an engine start up, and then the crunching of tyres on gravel as the vehicle drove away. I wondered how many of them had left the building. The moment worried me. Straining my ears listening, I finally heard light footsteps climbing the stairs and the woman entered carrying a tray of food and drink. I didn’t dare ask if it was the last meal for the condemned man in case she threw the contents straight into my face and punched the hell out of me again.

“You’re fortunate to be getting this meal,” She said, noticing my untrustworthy look. “Don’t worry it’s not poisoned.”

On a matter of principal I should have refused the offer, but the rumble of hunger had my stomach thinking my throat had been cut. To be truthful, I was that hungry I would have eaten a scabby donkey between two slices of mouldy bread, but I was quite content with the plate of cold greasy fried chicken.

I nodded my approval for nourishment, and said, “How about a little freedom while I eat, it’s uncomfortable in this position.”

“Not permitted, Buster.”

“I promise I won’t run off.”

With gunslingers speed she had drawn a handgun from somewhere and bent my nose with the nozzle, all skilfully done without disturbing any of the contents on the tray, not even a spill of coffee. She said confidently, “How far do you think you would get?”

My Adam’s apple rippled as I gulped and I was relieved when she replaced the gun into the holster strapped to the side of her leg and then she promptly rammed a chicken leg in my mouth. I took a bite and chewed. My jaw ached.

“I heard a vehicle drive away,” I said, trying to avoid spitting food from my mouth as I talked. “Has the big boss gone?”

She tapped my nose with a chicken leg. “You ask too many questions, Buster.”

“I enjoy conversation when I’m eating. Which terrorist group are you?”

She shook her head in disbelief. “Never give up, do you?”

I swallowed. “Are you a splinter group from the IRA?”

“Does it matter?”