The Isle of Devils HOLY WAR (7 page)

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Authors: R. C. Farrington,Jason Farrington

BOOK: The Isle of Devils HOLY WAR
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Storm added, “That’s great. Now I have another question. How the hell are we going to get out that bolted door without our friends seeing us?”

 

Savage whispered back, “The only way I know is to let those bloody bastards know we’re here.”

 

Storm snapped back, “Oh that’s a great idea. They’ve got all the weapons and we don’t even have a pea shooter.”

 

Savage smiled and said, “Don’t worry, mate. You stay under this table and watch me. You’ll know what to do.” Puzzled Storm looked at Savage, but before he could say anything Savage stood up and walked slowly towards the bolted door. The terrorists were so busy they had not noticed Savage. Savage reached for the rusty bolt and began to slide it over unlocking the door. The movement of the bolt echoed throughout the room causing both terrorists to turn around. Savage turned around sensing he had been spotted and quickly held up his badge. The first thing Savage could think of saying was, “Hello, mates. I am the St. David’s building inspector. I need to see your occupational license.”

 

Both terrorists looked at each other trying to understand what in the hell Savage was talking about. Finally both terrorists stood up. One grabbed a machete and the other grabbed his AK-47. The one with the machete walked towards Savage swinging his machete saying, “Infidel, what in the hell are you doing here?” Savage just stood there. He looked over at Storm and winked. At this point he knew there was probably nothing to say to stop the terrorist from attacking him. The terrorist was now within a few feet of him yelling, “You idiot! You are going to die now.” As he stepped forward towards Savage swinging the machete wildly, Savage blocked the terrorist’s arm with the machete and hit him so hard in the face with his right fist that the terrorist went flying. He landed on his back on top of the desk Storm was hiding under. Upon impact the machete went flying out of his hand. As the terrorist recovered from the blow he jumped up ripping open his shirt exposing a vest made out of dynamite. He pulled out a wireless detonator from his pocket and raising his hand straight up in the air yelled, “Infidel, the holy war is upon you. You will die with me for the cause.” Savage was shocked. He had never seen a suicide bomber before, except the terrorist from a distance on the speed boat. He knew if he tried to disarm the terrorist he and Storm would probably die instantly in the explosion. All he could do was back up, look for cover, and hope for the best.

 

He did try to distract the terrorist by saying, “Mate, are you sure you want to destroy everything in this room? Won’t that mess up your boss’ plans?”

 

The terrorist seemed to be in a trance. He slowly replied, “Hooda will forgive me. Two less devil dogs would be worth it.”

 

Storm could see he had only seconds to react. He was behind the terrorist. He looked over noticing the machete on the floor. Storm rolled out from under the table, grabbed the machete, and jumped to his feet. He knew if he ran the machete though the back of the terrorist he might still push the button on the wireless detonator. Instead he raised the machete over his head and swung as hard as he could slashing off the terrorist’s arm that was holding the detonator. The terrorist fell to the floor screaming in agonizing pain. Storm had swung so hard that he had lost his balance. As he was falling he could see the terrorist’s arm falling to the floor. Fortunately the arm hit the floor palm up protecting the detonator. The machete went sliding across the room in the opposite direction of Storm.

 

The other terrorist seeing this began firing the AK-47 in automatic mode blasting everything in sight. There was not a safe corner in the room. Savage, seeing the machete on the floor, leaped for it and grabbed it by the blade. He stood up and threw the machete as hard as he could lodging it deep into the chest of the other terrorist. As the terrorist fell over he continued firing his weapon exploding most of the equipment and screens. When he hit the floor, the room went silent and he was dead. Storm looked over at the terrorist with the missing arm. He could tell he was also dead. He had been struck in the forehead by a stray bullet from the AK-47.

 

Savage walked over to the bloody arm on the floor and removed the detonator from the hand. He looked over at Storm and said, “Thanks, mate, for saving my life. I guess you
disarmed
the terrorist and the explosives at the same time. I never would have thought of chopping off his arm.” He bent over extending his hand to Storm and helped him up.

 

As the two looked around the room Storm said, “Well, l I think this room is pretty trashed. I don’t think Hooda will be using this as his terrorist command center any time soon. Do you think we can sneak out the back way and alert the Commissioner now?”

 

Savage replied, “I think that’s a good idea mate.” The two quietly left the building, but before they exited the facility they checked on the terrorist guarding the gate. He had heard nothing. The command room was really soundproof.

 

The two climbed back up onto the rain catchment and made their way back out through the dense brush and trails they had come in on. Once back to the scooter, Storm pulled out his cell phone and called the Commissioner. The Commissioner answered, “Yes, Savage. What have you got for me? It had better be good. I just had to cut my call short with the Governor.”

 

Savage replied, “Oh, it’s good sir.”

 

The Commissioner impatiently said, “Well then, what is it?”

 

Savage went on to say, “Hooda and his men have a terrorist command centre in the old abandoned NASA Tracking Center on Cooper’s Island.”

 

The Commissioner replied, “Are you sure? If you’re wrong there will be hell to pay Savage.”

 

Savage replied, “Yes sir I’m right. Plus, you’ll find two dead terrorists there. When can you get there? Shall we stay and preserve the evidence in the facility?”

 

The Commissioner replied, “It’s going to take over six hours to get the proper paper work to access the facility, and it will have to be under the pretense of some type of site inspection. By the way, how the hell did you get in there?”

 

Savage was slow to reply, “We did a site inspection also, but the terrorists didn’t seem to buy into it.”

 

The Commissioner added, “Never mind. Savage, I don’t want to know anymore. Get the hell out of there before anyone sees you. Good bye.”

 

Savage and Storm got on the scooter. However this time Savage drove. Their destination was to go back to St. George’s.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Destination Dockyard

 

The next afternoon the two crime fighters met for lunch at one of Savage's favorite restaurants in St. George's. Storm got his first taste of bangers and mash, the British dish of pork sausage and mashed potatoes with onion gravy poured over the top. Storm said, “Well, Savage, this is pretty good. I'm pleasantly surprised.”

 

Savage responded, “Most yanks like this dish.” They went on with some small talk until they finished their meal.

 

Finally Storm asked, “Well, Savage, what happened last night when the NASA Center was inspected?”

 

Savage sat there for a minute turning red in the face and finally said, “Those bloody terrorists had the facility completely scrubbed down before the Commissioner’s men arrived. They didn’t even find a single fingerprint.”

 

Storm replied, “There’s no way they had time to get that mess cleaned up. That room looked like a war went on in it.”

 

Savage snapped back, “Well, I’m telling you, mate. All they found was some weather tracking equipment and ship to shore radios. The Commissioners men handled it well. Not much suspicion was raised.”

 

Storm added, “They’re not stupid. You can bet they’ll be watching their back sides from here on out. So what did the Commissioner have to say to you? I’ll bet that was a good phone conversation.”

 

Savage replied, “He was ok. He did say one more mess up, and you would be on the next flight back to the US.”

 

Storm asked, “Was that really all he said?”

 

Savage hesitated and added, “No, he said I would be on the same flight with you.”

 

Storm replied with a smile, “Well, at least we know we’re in this together.”

 

Savage then asked, “Not to change the subject, but did you have any luck with that satellite picture of Casemates last night?”

 

Storm replied, “Of course. The satellite passed over Bermuda this morning so if we can get to a computer with an internet connection on it, I can check my e-mail and download the picture.”

 

Savage replied, “Well, mate, let’s head over to my office at the St. George's police station, and we'll get your picture.”

 

The two finished lunch and walked over to the police station. Once in Savage's office Savage logged into his computer. He stood up pointing to his computer and said, “Go for it, mate. It's all yours”.

 

Stormed moved over to the computer and said, “Thanks. Give me a few minutes, and we'll see what my good buddy e-mailed me. In no time Storm was logged in to his e-mail account and waiting for the picture to download and print. Storm said, “I hope you have a good printer; so we can see some decent detail.”

 

Savage snapped back, “Don’t worry, mate. It’s a photographic printer. If your picture is any good we should see what’s going on.”

 

While they waited on the printer to produce the aerial view of Casemates Storm spoke up, “You know what I think, Savage?”

 

Savage replied, “No, but I know you’re going to tell me.”

 

Storm laughed then went on to say, “I don’t think this is a terrorist cell.”

 

Savage was a bit surprised and asked, “Are you bloody nuts? Look at this and tell me what you see.” He grabbed the aerial photo from the printer and flipped it over to Storm.

 

Storm was still smiling as he looked at the photo and replied, “Look at the grounds of Casemates. It looks like a training ground for terrorists. This is no terrorist cell. It’s a terrorist training camp. They’ve invested millions in this operation so it has to be a major attack like 911.”

 

Savage already knew what was coming next. He added, “I know, I know. Nobody’s going to believe this even if we show the photo. So it looks to me like the two of us misfits are going to Casemates tonight and stir the pot.”

 

Storm nodded his head; then both men got up from their chairs and left Savage’s office. They agreed to meet before dusk at King’s Square and catch the ferry boat to the Dockyard.

 

The timing of this unofficial investigation was good for Savage. His family was in the UK on holiday which meant he didn't have to explain his unusual whereabouts to anyone without causing concern. He entered his cottage double checking all the doors and windows making sure his Arab friends had not been snooping around. After he felt comfortable that he was alone, and no one had broken into his home, he made a change of clothes from his usual light colored shirt and Bermuda shorts and knee socks to a black long sleeve shirt and black slacks. He wanted to make sure if they were milling around Casemates his dark clothing would help hide him in the darkness. Savage was also a realist. He knew that these terrorists would be playing for keeps. He took a note pad from the small chest next to the bed and left his wife a short note on her pillow, just in case he never returned. Savage then dropped to his knees, reached under the bed and pulled out a small locked security box. He quickly keyed the combination into the box and opened it. He reached into the box and lifted out two black handkerchiefs with something wrapped up inside of each of them. Savage shoved the handkerchiefs in his two back pockets then closed the box and slid it back under his bed. Savage then left the cottage and made his way back to the square.

 

The two met up at King’s Square as planned and caught the high speed ferry to the dockyard. As the ferry neared the Dockyard Storm was reminded of a carnival. It was now dark, and the Dockyard was brilliantly lit with lights on the old majestic buildings and on the palm trees. One of the cruise ships touring the Island was docked at the Dockyard tonight and the lights of the ship added to the atmosphere. . The ferry was now gliding slowly towards the landing. Storm was amazed at the hundreds of tourists and Bermudians mingling around the carnival tents.

 

As they left the ferry Savage said, “Come on, mate. Follow me. I’m starving. I’ll introduce you to some fish chowder and cassava pie. It’s the best cuisine on the island”.

 

Storm replied, “Are you sure I can’t get a pizza and beer?”

 

Savage smiled and added, “Actually you can. They serve just about whatever you want eat here. But believe me, fish chowder and cassava pie can’t be beat.”

 

Storm gave in and said, “Alright, but aren’t we wasting time? Shouldn’t we be making our way to Casemate’s?”

 

Nearing the food tents Savage replied, “We can’t do a thing until the entertainment starts. Under the cover of the large crowd and noise we will be able to slip over to Casemate’s without being noticed.” Savage walked to one of the vendors and ordered their dinner. The two sat down and looked around while they were eating.

 

Storm was amazed at the sheer number of vendors selling souvenirs ranging from paintings to sea shells. The entertainment tonight was very loud. This would definitely work in their favor.

 

Savage interrupted Storms daydreaming by saying, “Well, mate, it’s time to shove off and break in to my favorite prison tonight. I sure hope there aren’t any ghosts of ex-prisoners I helped lockup over the years waiting for us tonight.”

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