Alex shifted in his chair. “How sure are you?”
“We’re not sure at all. In fact it’s just one of several potential targets on the most vulnerable list and therefore receiving the highest level of security. The problem as usual is that the possible threat is only a hint — or what our US cousins call a hunch.” He took a large draught of his drink.
He looked furtively around as if expecting to see someone listening to the conversation. “Now with the US led war on international terrorism having some significant success, things are changing. The Syndicate have always been quite happy of course to co operate with most groups, sometimes in exchange for other services, such as the odd assassination or murder! And naturally the fat fee on the arms and equipment deals that they’ve agreed to supply.” He raised his free hand and pointed at Alex. “So while we can’t yet expect to eliminate the Syndicate or global terrorism entirely in one simple operation,” he waggled his finger, “we do understand that the Syndicate have suddenly had to redirect a number of orders for some military hardware. This tells us that the Americans’ claims of success must have some credibility. It follows then that if the Syndicate are suddenly looking for new customers, they may be a little more vulnerable than usual.” He smiled thinly. “Your last little confrontation caused them considerable damage; now we have the chance to wear them down a bit more. What do you think?”
Alex knew that whenever the Syndicate became involved in someone else’s cause it was never because they believed in it. They were quite simply mercenary agents, willing to undertake any task, regardless of the cost in human souls, providing it supplied a significant contribution to their own bank balance.
“Sounds like a good assessment to me,” Alex nodded agreement.
“Well here’s where I make a bit of a connection with ‘The World’ of ResidenSea cruise liner. There have been recent reports of illegal arms slipping out of China via their reclaimed territories in Hong Kong and on to The Philippines. That would certainly be a familiar route for the Syndicate. There is an Islamic terror group located in the southern Islands. They are known to support the Al Qaida movement OK. Yesterday I received the itinerary for the World’s next phase of the inauguration cruise. She is to go through the Panama Canal and cruises through the Pacific for the next six months, eventually visiting New Zealand, Australia and then on to Singapore, with possible stops at Jakarta, Manila and several other local locations. Which puts her high on the list of possible targets.”
Wrinkling his brow in thought, he paused for a moment.
“At least this gives us time to gather more intelligence, but as importantly, if we could disrupt the supply of ordnance to these people and perhaps winkle out some of their intelligence sources, it could seriously upset any ambitious plans they may have.” He took a large envelope from his tattered briefcase. “These particular clients of the Syndicate will be seriously pissed off, if their plans are buggered up.” He smiled. “I confidently expect that it will knock another hole in the Syndicate’s armour don’t you?”
Alex grinned in anticipation.
“The United States military is already sending some Special Services troops into the Philippine,” The Boss continued without waiting for a reply, “to try and sort out the mess there, mostly by training the locals in anti guerrilla and terrorist warfare. You must stay out of their way. Your prime target is the Syndicate’s arms and their supply route,” he frowned questioningly.
“Understood,” Alex acknowledged, with a mock salute.
“I’d like you to make a start as quickly as possible. All the known details are in this report.” He held on to the package. “So, it looks very much like another holiday trip to the Philippines eh?” The Boss looked up smiling again. “Let me know when you have everything organised on the home front.”
The Boss stood up and handed over the envelope; the rest of his gin and tonic remained untouched. He patted Alex firmly on the shoulder. “Just take care my dear friend"
“ Have no fear,” Alex nodded confidently and then added firmly, “All I ask is that you make sure that my family remain incognito and safe, OK?”
“They should always be safe, just so long as they remain inconspicuous, but I will make it my personal responsibility to see that they stay that way!”
They shook hands and then left the pub, moving in separate directions as they stepped onto the street at the end of the cobbled courtyard. A bearded old man stood quietly on the other side of he road. He turned casually as they left and limped unnoticed, in the same direction as Alex, towards London Bridge.
Greg Sing spent many hours poring over various copies of the charts covering an area around Manila Bay and out towards the offshore islands. He was quite convinced that the submarine, known to have loaded some fifty tonnes of gold bullion, was sitting on the bottom somewhere out there. So, ever the optimist, he set about devising a viable method of locating it. That was all they had to do!
Greg believed that he had a pretty good location marked on the old original chart they’d found in the restored map case. He had marked it with the position from the war records, and then overlaid the position he’d marked on his own chart. They were about five miles apart in an East to West direction but, interestingly; they were perfectly aligned with a line drawn from Manila two miles South of Corregidor.
The problem was making the first move. He knew that if they were to succeed in finding any thing they would be obliged to involve other people. In that part of the world, any sniff of a treasure hunt soon became public knowledge, creating an open invitation to every crook and scumbag within a thousand miles to poke their grubby noses into the project.
So he decided to keep a low profile by hiring a fishing boat and doing a bit of wreck fishing. In this way he assumed that he might discover wrecks already known to the local fishermen and then relate them to the various wrecks already marked on his master chart. He also considered the possibility of joining the local Adventure Scuba Diving Club, which he understood regularly dived on the local wrecks. Now all he had to do was persuade Oscar to go fishing and he could do the diving!
“All you have to do Oscar is enjoy a couple of days or so of leisurely fishing and making a few notes of the locations, using the hand-held GPS. That shouldn’t cause too much high blood pressure for you now should it?” Greg reasoned, beaming radiantly.
“OK Greg but there’s definitely to be no more dodging the Syndicate or their like or smuggling bullion etcetera etcetera OK
“Oh Oscar you should trust me! Surely you know me by now?” Greg comforted him, looking hurt.
“That’s the whole problem — I do know you and only too well!”
He shook his head in mock exasperation. Actually he was secretly tingling in anticipation, part of him excited, part terrified. “So when do we start?” he asked, feigning indifference.
Greg threw the airline tickets onto the table. “Tomorrow. OK?”
“You’re impossible. So what are you getting me into this time Ollie?” Oscar mimicked.
They took the afternoon flight to Manila. Greg was like an excited teenager and wasted no time in organising the trip. The first job was to charter a local fishing boat for one or two days’ wreck fishing.