Elites Bullet Part 3

2200 hrs

The humidity has been almost continuously high for the past 3 weeks and it will probably increase further during coming months. The nights are uncomfortably warm (aircon. is a necessity) and the natural landscape is parched and shimmering. If one’s greatest joy in life is to sit under a parasol or splash around in the sea during the day, and party all night, then this time of year is ideal. That is assuming you are not holding a position like mine.

I am the Commander of the Coast Guards with a command of a fast patrol boat or better known as Coastal Surveliance Craft with a length of 20 metres. My area of patrol is over 50 miles wide, and this craft does only 40 knots per hour.  I have a crew of six with me considering the lack of manpower in the guards,and we are armed with our semi-automatic 45 calibre and carbines for the crews. The craft has two mounted GPMG 7.62mm at the rear of the craft plus search light mounted at both port and starboard.

It was supposed to be a routine patrol; we sailed up and down the designated area, stopped some fishermen for their prized catch, and then back to the dockyard by 0400 hrs.

But not today, we saw three trawlers on the horizon. They looked big for fishing trawlers that we normally get in our seas. I set the gears in place and cruised over.

‘Shall I hail them, Lieutenant Grea. Sir’. It was my dimunitive local petty officer Kirby who was addressing me holding onto the microphone that will blare out his words on the two loudspeakers attached to the helm.

I nodded my consent, to Kirby who does his repertoire of words to acknowledge the presence of the Coast Guards and our orders under the laws of the island in which we can board and check any crafts deemed to be hostile or unidentified. He ends with my name as the commanding officer. Bloody bastard will string my name out for any court martial if there is any trouble or person to be blamed.

The trawlers cut off their engine and was soon floating on the waves. We sailed up to the first trawler and pulled up alongside on the port side. One other trawler was floating on our starboard but it looked empty of any crews. We trained our search light to beamed across their bow of the trawler we intend to board.

It was then, we saw five men coming out of concealment and armed with automatic guns from the trawler which we are to board. My GPMG crew tried to  react but they were cut down in a hail of bullets from the trawler on the starboard. The five armed men turn towards us and took us down by the numbers. I must had been shot over ten times before I can even withdraw my handgun.

So much for fast withdrawal when you handgun is in the holster with a velcro strap over the top.

2325 hrs

The island has a section where the mangrove are found with its dense root systems of the salt-tolerant green growth trapping organic waste, such as dead or dying broken off plants, brought in by tidal flooding. Among these green growth are the minute to small creatures such as shrimp and small fish, feed on this decaying organic plant matter. At certain time, the bigger predators come to feed on the smaller creature and law of survival takes precedence. But this time closed to the turn of the new day, the water of the mangrove was stirred up by the arrival of some wooden trawlers. They came in at precisely 2325  hrs.

Each trawler carried fifty one men huddled with their equipments all around them. They are dressed in camouflage and their faces darken with dark material. Their weapons are a mixture of models from AK47 to M16A1 complete with M203 grenage launchers, and even some FN. Each first two trawler has commanding officers whom they called Lieutenant. The two lieutenants all report to a Colonel who came in the first trawler. His name is known for mercenaries works and he is paid by the richest for his work is the kind most do not want to touch.

As the first and second trawler has disembarked with its commanding officer, the third trawler comes in to near the rooted river bank. This two group of men which we will call signs are Platoon A and B took position in the dark wooded forest. The third trawler is slightly bigger than the earlier two but it held the same fifty men. And then ten more men went back to the trawler to unload some crates from it. Once the crates are unloaded the trawlers are left at the river bank idle without any handlers. The third group of men called sign is Platoon C began to lent hand to carry the crates into the wooded forest.

Colonel Mathew ‘Wildcat’ Mason looked at his illuminated watch. It said 1200hrs and the time to start operation ‘Wildcat’. Its now Day One.

Day One

Early Morning

0100 hrs

The phone rang right next to my right ears, where I left the handset two hours ago. I reached for it and checked the number before I will answer it. This is one call I will picked and this is only number who can reach me at anytime. ‘Hello’ was all I need to say. The instructions were specific and on completing my call, I was out of my bed. I walked to my wardrobe and select my required attire. In ten minutes, I was on my scooter to the location stated.

Its a large mansion with heavy metal grated gate, which is secured by a operator sitting at the concrete booth behind the gate. The operator is not alone as he has with him two more armed men with him. Next to the concrete ‘bunker’ as named it, are the dog cages. These two pairs of dark looking dobermans’ are not for patrolling the perimeters; they are trained killer dogs. I went up to the gate and stopped my scooter, while idling the engine, I looked up at the camera overlooking the gate.

The gate was activated remotely and swung open just enough for my scooter to go through.It clanged shut on entry as I rode on the gravel path to the house, the path will be automatically lighted up as I reached the set boundaries,. Once I passed the boundary the lights of that section will turned off by itself.

I went in the front door which was opened as I was stepping to it.

‘Main Library’. I know the way there and I opened the door upon reaching it.

Mr King Charles was standing at the shelf looking at some books. He was perusing the books’ titles on the spine of the books, and stopped when I stepped in.

‘Come in, Kingfisher. I have a need of your service. I know its late but this is urgent. I want him taken done fast. He just killed my guest of importance. And the usual fee will be on wire to your account. In fact, its done already as I trust your work. And I have double it too. I love your style.’

I looked at the photo and turned to the back. It reads as Lieutenant Marius Bend , Special Division, Major Crime Unit. I turned back to see my brother’s photo again.

‘Lieutenant Marius is his cover. His real job is he is a member of the Death Squad; assassins for the goverment forces. His call sign is Sniper One. They do things without the process of justice. He just took down my supplier of arms. I want him dead like my supplier; a bullet in the head. Just do it for me, Kingfisher.’

0110 hrs

‘Yes, sir. I have the file. I just remembered I took it by mistake from my desk...... I would bring it in tomorrow morning.... yes, sir. It would be on your table by 9am...... good night, sir.’ I clicked the button to off the phone. And I held it down so it will shut off for the night and I can get some sleep. I just crawl into my bed after spending two hours plus getting a sugar hyped girl of age seven to sleep. I turned over to my briefcase on the floor next to my bed and pulled out the file which made the Governor called me at his hour.

I guess it will be a long night for me.