A speedy update. Not sure when the next one will be. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe Thursday or Friday. Really getting into the nitty-gritty of this case now. It's on the downward slope.
Enjoy and please review.
Chapter Seventeen
It was a Wednesday evening, but the middle of the working week did not put a dent in the party atmosphere of Kuta Beach. This zone was the closest to the Hammersley and had been designated to Mike and his group. RO was in charge of steering and Sharkey was resting at the front with night-vision capable binoculars, scanning the shoreline for the off-chance encounter with abnormal activity. In such a densely populated tourist spot, situations out of the ordinary appeared at every bend and it was difficult to discern the haphazard visitor indiscretions from actions with murderous intent.
The tourist spot was active all year round and all day - and night - round. With so many Westerners and holidaymakers in the one area, it was a more than plausible location for the imminent terrorist attack and, ergo, a vital reconnaissance position for the Hammersley crew. Mike had informed his two minions that they would need to be on the lookout for counter-surveillance crews, repetitive visitations from locals and frequent, suspicious happenings. But they were weaving so swiftly through the maritime zone of anchored vessels that the spotting of said activity was a hard task.
Of all the crews' senior members, Mike kept in contact with the CO the most. The radio did not leave his hand and he was constantly updating Kate on what they saw ashore. He shared his theories and fears on the location, and often reported that 'he had nothing.' Charge was similarly updating her, but with less additional information and less often. The only crew that she hadn't heard from in the last twenty minutes was Raffy's. She had requested an update twice since he last made contact. The first time he responded that his team was advancing on a suspect location with the lights and engine out. He did not answer the second time.
Kate was concerned, but not enough to try him again. If he was checking out a possible terrorist location, dangerous as that was, he would need to maintain radio silence until the threat dissipated. She didn't want them found because he was overheard responding to her many questions. That said she wanted an answer as to what exactly his team was doing and why it was taking so long to respond.
"X-ray 8-2, please respond," she said after a further five minutes.
Raffy sighed on the other end. He heard the transmission, but a response could give away their secreted position if there were any enemy ears nearby. They had located an 'abandoned' warehouse on the furthest edge of their search perimeter. There was an armed security patrol gliding along its periphery, both shore-side and roadside.
"Are you going to answer that?" Dutcy asked with a cheeky grin.
Raffy was unimpressed. Lowering his voice, he hit the button on his radio and answered, "A little busy right now, Charlie 8-2." Then he switched it off.
2Dads followed suit, knowing the XO would have hell to pay when they returned. Dutchy reluctantly followed suit. They had changed from tourist outfits to the more camouflaged black shirt, pants and beanie. The dinghy had been hidden along the shore some hundred metres from the warehouse, and they had crept along the shaded seaside trees until they got within ten metres of the patrol.
Raffy had put 2Dads in charge of photography and filmography. Dutchy was armed with and clutching a 9mm Browning. Raffy had slid his into the back of his pants. His night-vision binoculars were zoned in on the outside areas of the warehouse. They were carefully concealed by light shrubbery and dense grass. It was starting to itch.
For ten minutes, they only witnessed the movement of hired mercenaries around the base. Raffy was mentally planning a covert invasion so they could ascertain what exactly the building was sheltering when a car pulled up at the iron-barred gate. The guards inspected it, yelled orders at each other and then, after a minute or so, allowed it to enter the compound. Raffy zoomed his focus in on the man that exited through back passenger-side door.
"I know that man," he muttered.
"Who?" Clearly, Dutchy had heard him and lifted his own binoculars to his eyes.
"2Dads," Raffy hissed. "Get snaps of the man in the suit and taqiyah and send them to the boss."
He nodded without bothering to ask what a taqiyah was and retrieved his mobile phone from his pocket.
"Who is it?" Dutchy asked again.
Kate's voice was on the radio now, interrupting him. It appeared that Raffy had switched his radio back on. The others repeated the action. "Are you sure of this, X?"
"Dead sure," Raffy responded.
"Who is it?" Dutchy was starting to get frustrated again. Why is it that the officers always had unspoken conversation going on between them that none of the sailors could work out? Could they really telepathically communicate? He'd had enough of it with the previous regime, but for the tradition to continue… Was this something they learnt at Jervis Bay?
"His name in Abdul Malik Hussein," Raffy answered finally, in the same hushed tone that he'd been using for a while. "He's the supposed leader of this faction of JI. We've been searching for him for… a long time."
"At least we know that we're in the right place," 2Dads put in.
"Get as much video evidence as you can and get out of there," Kate advised. "I will advise Ethan of your position and he will take care of this."
Raffy wasn't inclined to agree with his CO. "Ma'am, with all due respect, it's Hussein. If we get him, we take out his entire chapter. This attack will not be able to go ahead."
"You don't know that," Kate replied. "His supporters could already have this underway. I want you back on the Hammersley."
"Ma'am-" Raffy started to complain.
She stopped him before he could. "What are you going to do, X? Take him out yourself? Dutchy, how many armed guards are there?"
"At least 8, ma'am," he answered dutifully. "Probably more inside."
Raffy shot him a foul glance, suggesting that he had somehow decapitated his manhood and was pussy-whipped into answering the boss' every word. The nature of naval command did not enter the equation.
"You're outgunned and outnumbered," Kate told him. "Any attempt to apprehend Hussein would be suicide. And don't forget, we don't have any jurisdiction here."
"But-"
"Return to the ship. That's an order."
He couldn't argue with that. 2Dads wrapped up the video and started towards the dinghy. Dutchy pulled his somber XO along with him, who was rather reluctant to move an inch let alone a mile.
"The boss is right," Dutchy whispered to him. "We were hopelessly outnumbered."
"That may be true, but I just wish that I'd gotten the chance to see what was inside that warehouse."
"A bomb maybe. What will Ethan Saunders do about it?"
Raffy knew exactly what he'd do. Kate was right—it wasn't their jurisdiction. "Inform the Indonesian National Police," he replied. "Detachment 88 will raid the warehouse sometime during the night."
"That's good then," 2Dads said as he helped Dutchy push the dinghy along the shallow water. They could not start the engine in such close proximity to the warehouse without the risk of them being heard. About three hundred metres down, Raffy signaled to the others to fire up the engine. It was probably a safe distance.
The journey back to Jimbaran Bay was not a long one, but they knew that the other teams had already returned to the Hammersley. Last to arrive on shore with their hired dinghy, they replaced it in the rack and greeted the old local man who owned the shop. One of the vans Raffy had paid for was already waiting for them on the side of the road.
But their approach was not without delay. Raffy's phone was ringing. He quickly glanced at the caller ID and nodded to the others to go on without him—he'd catch up soon.
"Yes?"
"I will cooperate, Mr Rodrigues," said the voice on the other line. Commissioner Budingan had chosen wisely. "Please just tell me that you will destroy this video."
"I'll do you one better, Commissioner," Raffy replied. "I'll lose the number as well."
"That is good to hear."
"So tell me?" Raffy continued. "What did Hussein buy from the Iranians?"
The answer was not quite what Raffy expected, nor was it one he expected to hear. If the situation could get any worse, it just did.
"A submarine."