The Spear of Destiny

Chapter THIRTEEN



When Peter Dennis came round the first thing he knew was that he’d been knocked out. He remembered the sight of the adjustable spanner inches from his face and he, unable to avoid it. His jaw hurt and felt swollen. He rolled his tongue around the inside of his mouth and tasted blood. The lower left part of his jaw hurt and the pain made him wince. He pushed his tongue against several of his teeth. They had been jarred and felt loose. There was a lump bitten out of the inside of his left cheek and it stung to poke his tongue there. He felt warmth from the wound and knew that was where the blood had come from.

Over his head was a hood that surprisingly let in a lot of light, though he could see nothing at all. It felt like it was hessian, a hessian sack, and smelt strongly of coffee. It was loose over his head but tied with rope around his neck. Tight enough to keep it on but not to restrict his breathing. He moved his head quickly this way and that but was unable to dislodge the hood.

He was sitting on a chair, his arms tied behind it. He tried to move his hands but realised they were tied too tightly. The ropes cutting into his wrists. His fingers numb with pins and needles. His feet were also tied together but not to the chair and there was something else. A strange inaudible rumbling beneath his feet. He couldn’t hear but sensed and felt it. Then he felt his stomach move from within and he knew that he was still on the ship and the strange rumbling meant that the ship had set sail. His senses told him it was turning.

“I wonder if we’re out at sea,” he was thinking, “And if so how far. God I hope Hutchinson’s still on board. Did I tell De Luca what I was going to do?”

He racked his memory for what had happened before he’d been knocked out.

‘How long was I out for? Minutes? Hours? Days? The phone battery failed before I told him what I was doing’

He tried to move his shoulders, they were aching. His backside hurt as well and he squirmed to try and ease the cramp. He felt the chair move under him and he was sure it was wooden. He was able to move his legs.

‘So they’re not tied to the chair’

He tried to stand but couldn’t. He could rock the chair. It began to tip backwards and forwards and he used his leg muscles until they ached. The chair was getting higher and higher with each effort and then finally he felt it begin to tip. He quickly threw his weight the other way and the chair tilted past its zenith and then fell sending him crashing to the floor. Instinctively he craned his neck so that his head would avoid contact with the floor. He felt the chair crack when he landed and he wriggled about on the floor and though he was still tied to the chair he had more freedom of movement with his arms. The ropes were still cutting into his wrists but he now found he could move his hands apart. He struggled against his bonds. Then suddenly he felt himself free of the chair. Now he was able to roll onto his back and roll himself into a ball. He brought his legs up to his chest and slowly and painfully was able to bring his hands up and over his feet and now his arms were in front of him.

Struggling to get air through the hood, breathing hard, his chest rising and falling he reached behind his neck and scrabbled at the knot holding the hood. Finally he was able to yank the hood off and take a huge gulp of air. At first the bright light temporarily blinded him and he raised his hands up to his face to shield his eyes from the light until they adjusted.

Dennis reached forward to tackle the knots around his ankles. They were too tight. Then he felt one of them give a little, just a touch, but it was enough to give him hope. The tips of his fingers were by now numb and then the knot loosened. Dennis paused and opened and closed his fingers, flexing them. Then as some feeling flowed back to his fingertips he reached forward again and attacked the knot. Suddenly it came loose and he undid the ropes around his shins. Now he was able to roll over and get to his knees and slowly stand up. He did a quick scan of his surroundings. He was obviously in the hold of the ship. There were lights at even intervals along the walls. Running the entire length of one of the walls was a metal workbench with a large vice at one end. There were also some large tool chests fixed to the wall and Dennis rushed over to them. He opened very stiff drawers. He found some chisels and picking one up he tried to position it in his hands to cut the ropes. It was no good. He dropped the chisel and continued to rummage in the chest. Then his eyes lit up when he saw the Stanley knife. He pulled it from the drawer, slid the blade out with the little switch, turned the knife and began sawing at the ropes with the very thin blade. It was slow and difficult but eventually one of the rope cords was cut and the two ends peeled away from each other. Dennis set to work on the next one. He felt the ship turn again and he had to lean in to the worktop to keep his balance. Finally his hands were free and he pulled the ropes away.

Dennis continued searching the drawers for anything he could use. In the bottom drawer were some heavy spanners. He took a heavy two foot long one out and did a couple of practice swings with it. It would be slow but very effective.

Dennis closed the drawers gently then stopped. He could hear voices and laughter. He ran to the door and listened. The voices were directly outside. Dennis ran back to the overturned chair. He grabbed the cut ropes from the floor, picked the hood up and quickly shoved it over his head, wrapped the ropes loosely around his hands and threw himself down next to the chair. Dennis heard the hand wheel on the door being turned and the heavy door creaked open. When the four men entered the compartment Dennis was writhing on the floor and groaning.

The four stopped and chuckled when they saw him. Dennis’ senses were tuned and he heard the footsteps as they got closer. Somebody said something in French and Dennis could tell by the accent that the person was a negro. Someone replied to the man and there was more laughter. Then Dennis sensed someone standing over him and rough hands grabbed the boiler suit he was wearing and hauled him to his feet.

“Did you hurt yourself when you fell off your chair?” the man said in a baby voice in English, mocking the journalist.

The others chuckled. Dennis pretended to still be groggy. The man holding him was trying to steady him. Dennis suddenly launched himself forward and head butted the man in the face. As the man fell away holding a broken nose and howling with pain, Dennis ripped the hood off and lunged at the next man nearest him hoping he still had the element of surprise. This man was also caught unawares and Dennis was able to land a few punches to this man’s face. Dennis ducked as a fist came at him from the side and as the arm sailed past above his head he turned and landed punches in the man’s abdomen, winding him. This man collapsed to his knees unable to draw a breath. The man whose nose had been broken was slowly getting back to his feet. With his eyes watering he was unable to see clearly. Dennis readied himself to attack him again when he was suddenly grabbed from behind, his arms pinned. Whoever held him was taller, bigger and stronger and though Dennis wriggled he was held easily. The black man with the broken nose shook his head and snorted blood and snot on the floor. Then focusing his eyes on Dennis he bared his teeth, bellowed and rushed at the journalist. Dennis was able to push against the man holding him and he jumped up while still being pinioned. He kicked the man with the broken nose in the chest which sent him crashing away and in the same instant Dennis threw his head back and butted the man holding him in the face. This man released his grip and as Dennis fought out of the way a fist from the fourth man crashed into his temple. Dennis saw stars and he groped for the work bench. His fingers found the heavy spanner and he grabbed it, turned and swung it into the face of this man. He sank to the floor without a sound. The big man that had been holding him let out a bellow of rage and at rushed Dennis. The first two punches were swung wildly with both arms and Dennis was able to easily duck under them. He hammered his fists into the man’s ribs and met solid muscle. The big man roared with rage and brought a foot up and kicked Dennis in the chest. Winded, Dennis fell against the work top. The large spanner was where he’d dropped it and his fingers closed around the handle. The big man hammered blows at Dennis with huge fists. The journalist instinctively brought the spanner up just in time with both hands to deflect the blows. Dennis heard the crunch as flesh and blood connected with the inch thick heavy steel. The man turned his knuckles towards himself and stared in disbelief at his shattered fingers. Dennis calmly took a step forward and brought the spanner up in both hands in an uppercut and connected it with the man’s jaw. The big man grunted and fell onto his back. Dennis let the spanner clang to the floor. He took a few gulps of air, leaning on the work bench. The first man he’d headbutted with the broken nose was trying to get to his knees and Dennis slid over to him and crashed his fist into the side of the man’s head. The man went out. Dennis got up and surveyed the scene. The four crewmen were prone on the floor. Three appeared to be unconscious, completely out cold. The fourth, the big man, was still moaning and groaning, though he didn’t appear to be with it. His eyes were open but distant.

Dennis took off the boiler suit he was wearing and wiped the sweat from his brow before throwing it to the floor. He quickly searched the men’s pockets for mobile phones. There weren’t any. He picked up the heavy two foot long adjustable spanner and dashed over to the watertight door. He checked that the coast was clear and stepped out into the corridor. He pulled the heavy watertight door behind him and closed it and began winding the hand wheel until it clicked. Then he placed the heavy spanner between the hand wheel and the door and pulled with all his strength until the hand wheel began to move. Dennis paused to get his breath. He then filled his lungs with air and held his breath and gave another supreme effort. Then just as spots appeared in front of his eyes and he thought he would pass out he felt the wheel move away from the door as the thread was stripped. He put a foot up against the door and snatched at the spanner and suddenly the hand wheel came spinning off. It clattered on the steel corridor floor and Dennis kicked it to one side. He dropped the spanner with a clang and flexed his hands from the pain of having used all his strength. The muscles in his forearms were aching. He looked at his ribs and saw fresh blood on the T-shirt. He’d opened the cut from the razor wire.

Dennis moved along the corridor to the next hold. There was another door with a hand wheel and he put his ear against it and listened. There was no sound from within. The ship lurched again violently and as he was thrown against the door and held on to the hand wheel he realised that they must be at sea and the ship was in a storm. He looked along the corridor and saw that it was leaning at quite an angle, then righted and tilted the other way.

Dennis grabbed the door wheel with both hands and began turning it. It turned easier than he thought it would. He pushed the door in slowly and peered around it. This compartment was exactly the same as the one he’d been held in except there was no work bench or tool chests. In the middle of the floor space was a figure lying on the floor, wearing a hood, still tied to a chair. The figure appeared to be lifeless. Dennis rushed over and knelt next to the person.

“Jim,” he called quietly.

The figure stirred.

“Pete is that you?”

“Yes. Stay still.”

Dennis untied the rope around Hutchinson’s neck that kept the hood on. Hutchinson had a large purple bruise on his forehead.

“Did those bastards do this to you?”

“I hit my head when I fell off the chair. I don’t think there was anyone here with me. I’m not sure. It felt like the ship swerved or something. I don‘t know. I think I blacked out for a moment or two.”

“Yeah I think we’re at sea Jim. They got me too. Someone hit me with something. Knocked me out. I got four of them, next door. They were going to rough me up. I’ve managed to lock them in and break the door lock but how long for I don’t know.”

Dennis had already undone Hutchinson’s wrists and together they were untying the American’s feet.

“Can you stand?”

“I think so.”

Dennis helped his friend to stand and held him against the pitching of the ship.

“Sorry,” Hutchinson said, “I’m a bit groggy.”

Dennis examined the older man’s forehead.

“That’s quite a bump you’ve got there.”

“Did you say you thought we were at sea?”

“Yeah. That would explain the pitching and rolling. It feels like there may be a storm. I don’t know how far down in the ship we are but it feels like a big one.”

“They happen sometimes in the Meditteranean. Big storms. They can suddenly blow up from nowhere and disappear just as quickly.”

“Yeah I know. Listen, if you’re up to it Jim I think we’d better try and get off this ship. Storm or no storm.”

“Good idea.”

Then Hutchinson said.

“Thanks for coming to get me Pete.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“How did you know where they’d taken me?”

“I followed them.”

“To where?”

“Naples.”

“I see. And Nat?”

“Back in Rome with De Luca. Say, I don’t suppose you have your mobile with you.”

“Sorry left it in the hotel room. Kinda left in a hurry.”

“Yeah of course. Listen did they say what they wanted you for.”

“When I answered the door of the hotel room and they burst in they turned the place over. They were looking for the journal that belonged to Von Brest. They called me Dennis twice. I realised straight away that they’d got the wrong room number, that the journal was next door, and they’d got the rooms mixed up. I didn’t tell them because I didn’t want you or Nat in danger. I told them the police had it. I thought they’d just rough me up a bit and leave. I was shocked that they took me hostage. Do we still have the journal?”

“Forget about the book Jim. We just need to concentrate on getting off this ship. Are you ready?”

Dennis helped the American until he could stand unaided.

“Where is this ship heading anyhow?”

“Don’t know. We need to go Jim. Now. Come on this way.”

Dennis grabbed Hutchinson’s hand and together they ran for the door, through it and into the corridor. As they passed the hold Dennis had been held in they could hear hammering on the door.

“We haven’t got much time,” Dennis said rushing along the corridor.

“What’s that noise about?”

“I already told you. They were holding me the same as you. I overpowered four of them and broke the door lock when I left. That compartment was full of tools and it probably won’t take them long to break out. We must hurry.”

Dennis led the American on and on, always climbing flights of stairs. They paused at a corner for Hutchinson to catch his breath.

“How much further?”

“Shouldn’t be far. I think we were being held in the very bottom of the ship.”

They were both thrown sideways as the ship lurched again. Much harder this time.”

“Damn Pete. This must be one hell of a storm.”

“We need to find some life jackets or a lifeboat or something.”

“Do you think any of these guys are armed?”

“I don’t know Jim. All I’ve seen are the ones who brought you here and crew members who work the ship. Oh and there was a red head, beautiful, don’t know who she was. She left in a helicopter back in port.”

“That is interesting. Have you seen Von Werner?”

“No.”

“Maybe he’s not aboard. Come to think of it nobody has seen him in Italy so far have they?”

“Not as far as I know. Now are you ready to move?”

“Right behind you friend.”

They burst out onto the main deck and stopped and stared. Rain lashed at them hard stinging their faces. They both grabbed a handrail to steady themselves as forty foot waves battered the ships hull. Lightning streaked across the sky lighting their faces up for a moment.

“This storm’s bigger than I thought,” Dennis shouted over the howling wind.

They both hung on as the ship’s deck rose and fell. One moment the bridge was a hundred feet above them. The next it was fifty feet below. The large stacks of containers rumbled and shook with terrifying force.

“Bloody hell!” Hutchinson said, “I thought the ship was going over then.”

The Ocean Breeze heeled and lurched thirty degrees to starboard then shuddered as she righted. Then as the ship rose again Dennis saw the freefall lifeboat attached to the stern.

“Come on!”

Dennis grabbed Hutchinson’s hand again.

“That’s our way off!”

Slipping and sliding on the wet deck they groped their way past the heli-pad to the lifeboat.

“How the hell does this thing work?” Hutchinson asked.

“I think we get in it and it launches.”

“Let’s go then.”

Hutchinson rushed around the front of the lifeboat looking for a way in. A large man in a boiler suit punched him in the face which sent him sprawling. Dennis saw Hucthinson crash to the deck. Then he recognised the supervisor who had hit him before. The man wore a sickly grin. He had the large adjustable spanner in his right hand and he slapped his left palm with it in a threatening gesture. Dennis searched around frantically for anything he could use in the fight to come. The man grinned and came on. Hutchinson, on the floor, kicked out with his feet entangling the man’s legs who stumbled and dropped the spanner. The ship suddenly lurched and the man was thrown over the stern. He clung on desperately while trying to change his grip. Dennis walked to the rails and stared down into the terrified eyes. He watched impassively as the man struggled for a few moments then the supervisor’s grip failed and he plunged seventy feet into the sea. Dennis turned for Hucthinson and helped him to his feet and they both looked at each other as the sound of an intermittent siren sounded over the pitching deck, accompanied by red flashing lights.

“What is that?” Hutchinson asked.

“Either the ship is in danger or we’ve been discovered,” Dennis nodded towards the bridge, “and I think it may be us.”

The unmistakeable figure of Von Werner in his white suit appeared at the railing surrounding the bridge. Petrov in black military fatigues was with him and Dennis saw the Dragonuv sniper rifle cradled in the man’s arms.

“F*ck!” Dennis said, “Come with me.”

He picked up the dropped adjustable wrench and he and Hucthinson moved away from the lifeboat and slipped in amongst the containers.

Von Werner had a megaphone in his hand and he raised it to his lips. Dennis and Hutchinson stopped as the voice carried across the deck.

“Mr Dennis! I assume it’s you Mr Dennis. You can give yourselves up.”

Dennis wasn’t listening. He was trying to break the seal on a container.

“Very well you had your chance,” the voice came to him through the containers.

“Uh Pete! You better take a look at this.”

Dennis let go of the handle on the container’s door and moved to see what Hutchinson was pointing at.

“Allow me to introduce Gennady Borodinoff.”

Dennis watched with wide eyes as a heavily armoured man moved slowly down the stairs towards them armed with a sidearm, grenades and a SPAS-12 assault shotgun. The man was covered from head to toe in armour. On his head night vision goggles and a Kevlar helmet.

“Pete what the f*ck are we going to do?”

The only weapon they had was the spanner. Dennis got into a position where he could see Petrov clearly. The sniper seemed to be able to keep his balance despite the pitching of the ship. A single shot ricocheted off the container inches from Dennis’ face. Dennis flinched away into cover. He looked up at the single container he was next to reading the labels on the side.

“Jim! Quick! Give me a hand to get this open.”

“Pete he’s getting really close.”

Dennis peered through the gap again just in time to see Borodinoff pump the shotgun one handed to cock it. Dennis smashed down on the seal locking the container. It pinged away and he pulled the double handles to open one door.

“Give yourself up Dennis!” Borodinoff shouted.

Dennis helped Hutchinson open the other door. Borodinoff could now see them and he fired his shotgun just over their heads.

“Jesus!” Dennis shouted.

They swung the other door open just as Petrov got to them. The ship suddenly lurched again as they dived for cover. Two cages containing dozens of gas cylinders tumbled out. They burst across the deck taking Borodinoff off his feet. Dennis and Hutchinson each holding onto a container door until the ship righted, then leaned the other way. The door Dennis was holding onto banged shut and he bounced off it and went down amongst the gas canisters. They bounced and plinked around him. Hutchinson still hanging on felt the container move further than it had before and he dropped down and rolled away from it and came to his knees.

Dennis was back on his feet swaying with the motion of the ship. Borodinoff, weighed down by his heavy armour was much slower in getting up. Dennis picked up a barbecue sized gas canister and drew his arm back and threw it at Borodinoff. It hit the Russian in the head and the man was forced back down to one knee.

The ship lurched again.

“Pete that container’s loose!”

Dennis rolled himself out of the way just in the nick of time as the container rumbled past him, gaining speed. Borodinoff was slowly getting back to his feet on the slippery deck. He more felt than heard or saw the container coming, spilling its contents out as it came. He couldn’t move from its path and it slammed into him taking him with it crushing him against the rails, killing him. Up by the bridge Von Werner watched in silence, his knuckles white on the rail.

Dennis went slowly to the container stepping over gas cylinders. The next time the ship lurched the container moved away from Borodinoff and his body slumped to the deck. Dennis picked up the assault shotgun and checked it for ammunition. There were six shells left.

“Uh Pete!” Hutchinson said pointing.

Dennis saw four more men running down the stairs towards them. Three of them had handguns, one was carrying a machete. The gas cylinders were still rolling around on the deck and bouncing off objects. The container was still sliding about blocking their exit. Dennis backed to the rail and peered down at the black sea, the crests of the waves churned white by the storm. The sea was a long way below.

“Jim get ready to jump over the side.”

“Over the side! Are you mad?”

“There’s no other choice.”

Dennis heard the four men taunting them as they came closer.

“When I say go Jim go. Ok!”

“Yeah sure. Whatever you say Pete.”

Hutchinson was looking down at what he could only perceive as certain death.

“Go!” Dennis shouted, “Jim Go!”

As another shot from Petrov missed Dennis by a fraction he pointed the shotgun around the corner of the container and fired. The first man was hit at almost point blank range and the powerful blast from the shotgun threw him backwards, his chest blasted to a pulp. Dennis cocked and fired again and again. Hutchinson ran to the rail. Up on the gantry Petrov sighted Hutchinson and brought the crosshairs to focus on the American’s head. He put his finger on the trigger and pulled it back. The container suddenly filled the scope as it once again slid across the deck in front of Hutchinson. Jim heard it coming. This time it was heading straight for him and would crush him as it had Borodinoff. Hutchinson turned, climbed the waist high railing and jumped. He landed with a heavy smack in the churning sea. His head broke the surface and he turned around to face the ship. Ten feet of the container had gone through the safety rail and was now balancing over thin air. Then twelve, then fifteen, now twenty. At twenty five feet it began to tilt. Hutchinson began frantically kicking away from the ship but the next waves brought him closer. The container suddenly tipped and crashed into the sea not far from him. It disappeared for a moment under the waves, then came back up, the front rising out of the water, then it righted and appeared to be staying afloat.

Dennis, now the container was gone, was fully exposed to Petrov and his sniper rifle. He turned and fired the SPAS-12 twice at the gantry. Von Werner ducked as pellets whined and smacked off the rails. Petrov hadn’t moved and he calmly pulled the trigger just as Dennis turned and ran. The bullet from the Dragunov whined harmlessly into the wet deck and ricocheted away. With one cartridge left Dennis pointed the shotgun over his shoulder at the centre of the gas canisters and pulled the trigger a moment before he dived over the side. The resulting explosion shook the ship as gas canister after gas canister erupted causing a chain reaction which threw Von Werner and Petrov to the floor.

Dennis’ head broke the surface of the water in time for him to see the massive fireball the explosion had caused.

“Pete! Over here.”

A large wave pushed Dennis towards the container and together he and Hucthinson clung to it. An ominous creaking and groaning sound came from the ship and they watched in amazement as four stacks of containers six high leaned out over the side and then toppled into the sea one at a time.

“F*ck!” Dennis said, “Did I cause that?”

“Uh-huh,” Hutchinson replied as the ship moved further away.

On the gantry by the bridge Von Werner and Petrov slowly picked themselves up. Von Werner found his small round spectacles and put them on. He brushed his white suit down with his hand, a strange smile on his lips.

“Do you want me to go after them sir?” Petrov asked, the Dragunov rifle resting across his chest.

Von Werner shook his head.

“They won’t last long in that sea.”

Inside he was thinking, ’I hope you do survive Mr Dennis. I hope to see you again real soon’

He turned and went back to the bridge.

Dennis and Hutchinson were still watching the ship. Within minutes it was a quarter of a mile away. Dennis pulled himself up out of the cold water and onto the top of the container. He instantly turned, held out his hands and helped pull Hutchinson out of the sea also. Together they collapsed onto the hard steel surface.

“What a night!” Dennis said.

“Do you think this thing will stay afloat?”

“I hope so.”

“What do you think is in it?”

“I don’t know. Why don’t we open it?”

“Ha funny!”

The rain was still lashing at them. Hutchinson turned on his side.

“Pete there are lights on the horizon.”

Dennis rolled over to look. With the rising and falling of the container in the churning sea Dennis could make out the lights. One particularly large wave lifted them high enough to see more lights.

“I think it’s Naples Jim.”

“How far out do you think we are?”

“Don’t know. Five miles. Ten. But I think we’re slowly being swept in.”

“Oh good,” Hutchinson said, “I’ve always wanted to see Pompeii.”

Dennis looked at him for a moment then threw back his head and roared with laughter.

“I sure could use a cold beer,” Hutchinson added.

“Yeah me too,” Dennis agreed as the waves brought them closer to land.