Milkshake (18 page)

“These guys don’t mess around, ok?” Ed caught the look on
David’s face and he softened his tone. “Look, sorry, Dave, but once
we are in the car with them, I won’t get another chance to explain.
It’s just that, well, we need some muscle, rent a mob, whatever you
want to call them. They are well paid for what we ask them to do
but they run on a pretty short fuse, if you get my drift. I just
thought I should warn you.” He hoisted his pack on to his back,
pulled a cap David had not seen before firmly on to his head and
made his way down the gangway.

David waited until the sound of a vacuum cleaner indicated all
passengers except him had disembarked. As he made his way down the
gangway, the posters advertising the many tourist attractions this
island had to offer reminded him it had always been their intention
to make this final short southward journey together arriving, as
generations before them had, like true immigrants, by
sea.

Instead he was being swept along on a roller coaster ride of
subterfuge and intrigue, wanting no part of it, but somehow being
the focal point of it. According to Ed, many other people had been
involved in similar journeys recently. Had they been involved to
the same extent David was? Was it just coincidence that he had made
contact with Ed, an old school friend, who not only happened to
have an intimate knowledge of exactly what Cowood was up to, but
also what was being done to try and stop them?

Ed was waiting for him as he emerged into the late afternoon
sun. They made their way towards a battered grey Toyota Hilux,
already occupied by two large men silhouetted in the cab. David
followed Ed onto the back seat.

The two men in the front simultaneously turned to greet David.
For hired muscle, they were older than he had expected, silver grey
hair framing both heavily lined faces, and their distinctive
features clearly Maori in origin. Their mothers would have called
them 'heavy set'. David considered 'obese' was more accurate as
they heaved and puffed, straining to extend a hand to shake. “Kia
ora, Bro’. I’m Tommy.” The driver smiled revealing yellow teeth,
chipped and uneven, as he gripped David’s hand in a firm single
shake. He reached across to meet the hand also being extended from
the passenger side. “Kia ora. I’m Billy.”

“Good to meet you both.”

David was not pleased to meet them. Nothing about the last few
days had been truly pleasant. Nonetheless, he had no reason to
scorn a genuinely offered hand of friendship and risk upsetting the
two men he sensed Ed had placed his trust in.

‘Eddie here tells us you’re from England,” Tommy continued as
he weaved through the car park towards the port exit gate and
swiftly out of Picton. “Our great nanna was from
Liverpool.”

David found that as hard to believe, given their obvious
ethnic origins, as he did Ed’s previous intimation that they were
dangerous gang members. Billy continued, “So, Eddie, Dave is gonna
help us with our big cheesy mess tonight, eh, Bro’?” The two
brothers laughed as the truck continued out of the town and onto
the open road, heading toward Christchurch, according to the road
sign David managed to glimpse.

Ed leaned across. “I’ll explain later.”

After an hour’s fast driving, Tommy turned the Hilux onto a
narrow track through dense forest. They bumped along the winding
dirt trail, emerging from under the canopy of trees into a small
clearing. On the left, a high wire fence separated the track from a
large scrubby paddock on the other side. Ed leaned forward and
tapped Tommy’s shoulder. “I reckon about here, Tom, if that’s
ok?”

All four climbed out, meeting expectantly at the rear of the
vehicle. Billy dropped the tailgate and climbed on. David hadn’t
noticed the large metal crate securely fastened to the bed of the
truck just behind the rear window. Billy unlocked the two heavy
padlocks on either side and carefully lifted out two smaller,
identical green boxes, followed by a green canvas bag which he
handed to Ed. They were ammunition boxes. “Right, here’s the
plan.”

Ed explained, once it was dusk, they would make their way
across the paddock. On the other side, he would cut the wire fence
and they would head towards the main building.

“Whoa, back a bit, rewind, one step at a time, Ed. Did I miss
something here? Why exactly are we cutting wire fences and breaking
in?”

“Sorry, Dave, You’re right. Let’s rewind. Behind the fence is
the Dairytree Cheese factory, owned, obviously, by Cowood. It’s one
of the sites where the Waiheke milk is being taken for trial
processing in the lab buildings at the rear of the main plant. The
cheese factory is the ideal cover operation, producing high quality
cheese for the home market but also conducting the preliminary
ethanol distillation using the modified milk. We need to destroy
the lab, but before we do, I need a sample of the whey powder
containing the gamma casein. About two kilos should be enough. So,
back to where we came in, once we get onto the site, Tom and Bill
will start a fire in the main cheese factory that will be fierce
enough to spread to the other buildings. They’ll make it look
accidental, of course.”

“Jug fire,” smiled Tom, pulling an old electric kettle from
one of the ammo boxes.

“While the boys are setting the fire, we’ll find the lab, get
the whey powder and meet back here. Any questions?”

“Clear as mud, boss,” Billy smiled.

“What about the security guards?”

Ed smiled at David’s innocent question. “Dave. This is New
Zealand. They don’t pay people to guard cheese.”

“But what about the milk powder. Isn’t that top secret,
highly sensitive stuff?”

“It is, which is exactly why Cowood doesn’t want to draw
attention to it by setting up any kind of special security. Quietly
working on it in some run-down old South Island cheese factory
keeps it all nicely low-key.”

This was getting worse. Tagging along for the ride was one
thing; starting fires and destroying property was taking things to
a whole new level. David was off the ferry but now he was deep in a
forest in a strange country. Escape would have to be put on hold
for a while longer

They waited until dusk before silently making their way under
the fence and around the perimeter of the field until they reached
the far corner where a change in the fence indicated the boundary
of the cheese factory. Tom and Bill pulled on the bottom edge of
the fence until it lifted, creating enough of a gap for Ed and
David to squeeze beneath it. Once on the other side, the pair did
the same for the brothers.

They were in the factory grounds, on the neatly cut grass
border between the perimeter road and the fence. In front, on the
other side of the road, were three single storey brick buildings.
They looked old and solid, reminding David of an old hospital or an
army camp. The site had the same well-kept, but sparse, air about
it. “Looks like a barracks,” he whispered to Ed.

“Nearly right. It was built as a military prison in the
Second World War. The Government was expecting air raids and
seaborne raids in submarines by the Japs. In the end it was never
needed. In the fifties and sixties it was a mental hospital and
then the land was sold for redevelopment in the late eighties.
Dairytree set up their factory using the existing buildings. Until
now, the research and development lab has been used to work on the
ethanol conversion process.”

“Until now?”

“Well, yeah. We need to cover our tracks, and the fact we are
going to liberate some of this gamma casein stuff means we’ll have
to torch the entire site.”

“Shame,” Chipped in Tom. “Me and Bill worked here for a
season or two. There are some good blokes here.”

“I wouldn’t worry too much,” replied Ed.
“This place is well insured and, to keep up the cover, Dairytree
will have to rebuild. That’ll probably keep most of the building
contractors in a hundred kilometre radius busy for the next six
months, so it’s not all bad news. Now let’s get to work.”

Ed led David to the rear of the main factory building, towards
a small concrete lean-to which looked like little more than a tool
shed. Meanwhile Tom and Billy quickly disappeared in the opposite
direction.

Ignoring the sign,
DANGER VOLATILE
CHEMICALS
, Ed hauled himself up and over
the high fence which formed a compound around the small outhouse.
Once inside, it only took three steps to reach a heavy looking
wooden door. He peered at the handle and two small reinforced
windows on either side of it. On the frame next to the door was a
swipe card and key pad mechanism. Ed stepped back towards the
fence. ‘Have you got the card handy?”

David frowned. He didn’t have the access card to open this
door.

“The bloody credit card you’ve been carrying for the past few
days. Give it to me.”

David hesitated. The card would be useless without knowing the
PIN number. Ed was stuck behind a ten foot fence like a dog in a
kennel. There was no ATM on his side. Why did he want the
card?

There was greater urgency in his voice as he asked again “Just
pass me the Goddamn card, Dave. What do you think I’m going to do
with it?” He had a point. David took the card from his pocket and
passed it through the fence to Ed who grabbed it, turned and
stepped back to the door.

He watched as Ed, with his back to him, stood close to the
door. Suddenly there was a distinct black stripe down its right
side which grew wider as Ed pushed the door open.

“Did that card just open that door?” Ed’s back had obscured
his actions.

“Sure did. I just swiped it and hey presto! Wait there. I
won’t be a minute.” With that, he pushed the door far enough to
enter and disappeared inside.

David stood silent, alone, staring through the wire at the
closed door. In his mind, he was running back under the fence,
straight across the field, under the second fence, and into the
driver’s seat of the Hilux. He imagined how he could start the
engine without the key.

He had no idea how to do that.

Darkness was now closing in quickly, accompanied by a sudden
rapid drop in air temperature. He shivered, realising he was only
wearing a thin shirt. In the surrounding trees he could hear birds
getting ready to roost for the night, an incongruous chatter amidst
the starkness of the factory.

From the outbuilding there were also noises – scratching,
followed by heaving and grunting. Finally the door re-opened and Ed
emerged carrying a large plastic bucket. “They’ve got the stuff
stored in bloody ten kilo drums!” he complained as he puffed and
panted over to the wire. “Somehow we need to get this out of
here.”

In the distance there was another sound, a muffled ‘boof’
followed by the sound of glass shattering. David turned to see Tom
and Billy half-running, half-staggering, around the corner. The
pair stopped, puffing and panting as they reached the fence,
clinging to it, their heads bowed, gasping for breath. They were
laughing like schoolboys. “Did you see that? Jesus that was close,
Bro'.”

Tom wiped sweat from his face. Billy explained. “We broke into
the kitchen and filled up our jug, the one with the dodgy cable.
Then we plugged her in and switched her on. While she was getting
hot, we found some old cooking fat and spread that around a bit.
Then the jug let out an almighty bloody flash, the fat caught
alight and hit the water coming out of the exploding jug, then a
window blew out. The whole bloody kitchen just took hold. It must
have been so full of grease and dust.” He paused, looking up. “Can
you fellas smell chips?”

There was a distinct smell of fried food in the air as the
stench from the burning canteen reached their nostrils, followed by
a curl of black smoke wafting around the corner. Ed took control.
“Right, guys, we need to move fast now. We have to get this
container over this fence and off the site right now. It’s too
heavy for me to lift over. Any bright ideas?”

He was right. There was no way he could heave the ten kilo
drum over the three metre fence. There was a loud bang, followed by
another, then another.

Billy just smiled. “She’s going up pretty fast. Better get a
move on, Eddie!”

There was another bang, followed by the clang of falling
metal, this time much closer. The sense of urgency in Ed’s voice as
he stood trapped behind the fence grew. The familiar cooking smell
was now being overtaken by another familiar but less welcome one -
chlorine gas. “C’mon, guys, think! We need to move now!”

He put the drum down and shuffled from one foot to the other,
looking at the container, then the fence, then back again. It was
clear he had no intention of leaving it behind. The door to the
storage area was still open. At the far end, another door led
directly into the factory. White smoke was beginning to creep under
and around the door. Next to the door, as if by way of explanation,
was a sign:
FIRE
.

David was the first to sense the signs of mild panic in Ed.
The smell of chlorine, the white smoke creeping up behind him and
the dilemma of what to do was beginning to affect his usual cool
and logical demeanour.