Shadow of the Odin

Mulholland checked with the crews of the two rubber ducks. The two crews of three members each stood ready. They were already in the water on the port side, engines idling, ready to race out in support of the launch at their captain’s command. They indicated to him that they were all systems go.

After a few minutes, the satellite radio came to life again.

The American voice said, “Ten four, Argent Sea II; fund receipt confirmed. Proceed to pick up the POWs.”

There was a loud cheer from everyone on the bridge. Barnabas Haig had tears streaming down his cheeks.

“Order the launch to pick up the hostages!” Mulholland shouted into the ship’s communications microphone. Then he got onto the two-way radio to the rubber ducks again. He instructed them to stand ready. “I want you in full readiness, but don’t show yourselves before I give the command. Then run like hell and join up with the launch. Keep your eyes peeled in all directions for any hostile activity.”

He turned and trained his binoculars on the jetty to monitor proceedings.

To the delight of the three on the jetty, they saw the speedboat push its nose into the air and surge forward as it opened throttle to approach them. It made a wide turn close to the beach at speed, throwing up a large wave of water in the process. The manoeuvre caused the launch to face out to sea again when it came alongside the jetty. It would be, as Matt had anticipated, an easy step down into the boat, but not with tied hands.

A white-uniformed crewman jumped out of the moving launch onto the jetty, throwing a rope over one of the anchor posts. He pulled the boat fast even before it had come to a complete stop. He moved quickly to the prow and repeated the exercise. The launch was now secure against the jetty; it made a much steadier platform for them to board.

The crewmen were clearly well trained and performed their tasks with the easy competence born of experience, but they were not prepared for the sudden appearance of the divers.

Wearing black wetsuits, they arrived unseen, swimming under water from the direction of the Odin. They suddenly broke surface when they were alongside the launch and started scrambling over the sides.

Of course; not from the island – the danger was from the sea!

The self-reproach echoed through Matt’s mind as more divers clambered onto the jetty from the underside. Matt took one step in their direction and then, from the corner of his eye, he saw movement behind him. He turned on his heel to his left, the unexpected direction for right-handed people; it was just the right move, which allowed him to escape that diver’s lunge with a dagger. He had snuck up under the jetty and planned to take Matt from behind. But Matt, having turned around, now faced him, while he heard a great commotion break out behind him – shouts and screams and Meghan’s voice shouting something he could not make out.

His reaction was as swift as it was unexpected. Shifting his weight fully onto his left leg, he released a straight kick at the diver with his right leg. Propelled by the full power of his considerable thigh muscle and the backing of his body weight, his combat boot caught the black-suited diver in the short rib before he had time to recover his balance after his lunge into fresh air; the force of the kick propelled the diver sideways off the jetty into the sea, sending the dagger flying from his hand. The whole action had only taken a split second. From the feel of the heavy impact, Matt knew that guy would give no further trouble on that day.

Matt turned to where Meghan and Lord Bankes had stood. Despite the brevity of his diversion, they were already on the point of being thrown bodily into the launch. He took in the scene in an instant. Both Lord Bankes and Meghan were struggling valiantly, but unsuccessfully against their wetsuited assailants, who were wrestling them into the launch. The yacht crewman who had tied up the launch lay sprawled on his back in a spreading pool of blood.

The launch’s pilot was nowhere to be seen. He might still be in the boat, obscured by the black-clad divers milling on and around it. They hauled an object from the water into the boat: it was a bright silver metal case. As it was hauled over, Matt glimpsed the yellow radioactive warning triangle on its side – he clamped his jaw tight as he recognised it as the case containing the mini nuke that Lord Bankes had described.

Even as he made these observations, he was already in motion. Now was the time to use the stretch he had worked his bonds so hard for. It was not yet sufficient, but it would have to do. There was no more time. With the agility of a cat, he sank to his haunches and grabbed the heft of one of the daggers in his boot. He came erect, moving forward even as he turned his right hand with the blade pointing upward between his wrists and forcing it down in a sawing motion onto the nylon ropes.

The knife was extremely sharp; he cut through the nylon ropes one by one, but not fast enough to his own liking. In his rush, he abraded and cut the insides of both his forearms; only superficially, but, with the adrenalin rushing through his body, he was not even aware of them. Just before he reached the boat, the last bond gave way and his hands were free.

The ropes that secured the launch to the jetty had already been removed by one of the divers; now, the two powerful outboard motors roared as one black-clad figure took the wheel and gave full throttle. Lord Bankes’ assailant was sitting on top of him, beating down with his fist, while Meghan was kicking and biting her assailant. The others dived backwards away from the launch as it reared up out of the water in a power surge. They started for the beach.

Just as the boat stood up on its rear end, kicked forward by the powerful twin outboards, Matt launched himself through the air from the jetty. Lord Bankes’ assailant was still on him. On this deserving soul, the whole burden of Matt’s weight and wrath fell.