Read a sample of To Do or Die

Chapter 29:

Monday, November 13, 0232.

I couldn’t sleep.

I think they call it being overtired. That must be it. There really shouldn’t have been any other reason for it. I lay on the double bed, spread-eagled, staring straight up. It was humid in the cabin’s bedroom. There was no air conditioning. That had long since been removed and its spot in the wall replaced by a plywood panel. There was a ceiling fan though. However, it was in dire need of a re-balance, so it now served a purely ornamental purpose. Pongo seemed happy. He was sleeping next to me on the floor. I noticed that the Luncheon Meat Type ‘E’ had a similar reaction on him as it did on me, flatulence.

After John Drover had called our little party to a close, I had made my way to Cabin Six. I’d been able to borrow a t-shirt from Marty and a pair of shorts from John so I could get the disgusting uniform off. I took a shower, if you could call it that, in the cabin’s bathroom. The heavily calcified showerhead discharged water in all directions. It had felt good though. Marty had also come good with some basic toiletries: soap, shampoo, razor. I put them all to good use. I put all my clothes at my feet in the shower receptacle, poured shampoo over them and washed them using my feet as an agitator. After rinsing them off, I hung them over the pool furniture in the hope that the light breeze might dry them. I knew there wasn’t much hope of that. My boots held station outside the door.

I thought about my discussion with the crew. I wondered if I had jumped the gun a bit by accusing Block of being involved. Why had I done that? For one, who else could it be? Certainly, not Marty or Amy. They were young aircrew, and too busy just getting a handle on that let alone becoming involved in an international conspiracy. John could have been, though I didn’t think so. If he were, he would have been keen to go along with my accusations in regard to Block. Avert the blame, distance himself. Then there was Chook. Very doubtful. I knew Chook, no way he would involve himself in this caper. I needed to see him in the morning. I hoped he was feeling better. But what was it Jason had said? Not much chance of two Dawn agents being in the same squadron. Fonz and Block were both from Seventy-Three Squadron. Block often flew with our sister squadron; most loadmasters did. He said he’d volunteered, but why? Maybe there wasn’t an agent on this flight after all.

I heard Pongo give off a low growl and sensed he’d raised his head. A cold chill ran quickly through me from head to toe. I reached under my pillow for the forty-five. Too late; my hand failed to find the butt of the weapon and I had little chance of defending myself from the three cam dressed gentlemen that burst into my room. I was grabbed turned over, tied, silenced and frog marched out in about twenty seconds flat. Pongo tried to assist me but was taken out very early on with a blow to the head. I heard him yelp as he went down.

The arresting officers were all very dark men and strong. The speed and efficiency at which I was apprehended even impressed me. It was also done quietly and without fuss and I noticed they all had Aussie built L1A1 rifles slung on their backs, new ones.

No curtains stirred in the other cabins as I was taken away. Even the ‘Indian Giving’ resort manager refused to show his face. Funny, my main concern was for Pongo. I hoped he wasn’t dead. I think I was just too buggered to put up much resistance. I was thrown into the back of a Land Cruiser troop carrier. Two of the militiamen joined me, the other driving. We didn’t go far, probably only two or three klicks. From the inside of the troopie, I could tell we had turned right out of the resort. We stayed on the main road as far as I could tell.

The two guards said little in the back, occasionally just mumbling something in Pidgin. I wasn’t all that concerned although my heart rate was up. I was sweating, my wrists hurt from the cable tie they’d put on but I wasn’t frightened. I guess I figured that if they had wanted to kill me, they already would have.

Well, I guess now Plan Copperhead could now officially be deemed a failure. One operative dead, the other captured and in the hands of the enemy. I recall telling Jason on several occasions, that this mission was doomed. No one listened. The stupid thing is, I had agreed, against my better judgment, to be a part of it. So I guess there’s really only one person to blame for me being here and that’s me.

From the troopie, I was taken into the former Mullamuk Police Station. I say former as the building didn’t look in very good a condition and these fellows weren’t the police. There was no processing in, no emptying of pockets, no over the counter banter. It was straight to the cell. Yes, that’s right, here I am again, back in a friggin’ jail cell, yet another to add to the long list.

Overall, this was the worst. The moon provided what little light there was through a tiny window. It stunk to high heaven. I don’t know what the dominant odour was but the cocktail consisted of sewage, body odour and general unspecified filth. The furniture consisted of one chair, which was provided for me. Unfortunately, the former chrome and vinyl kitchen accessory provided little comfort especially as my arms were tied around the back of it, effectively placing me in a stress position. That’s how I was left, tied to the chair and facing the closed door. I remained in that position for several minutes, during which time, I wondered what the drill was. Why was I here? Presumably, the resort manager had dobbed me in, as I was an unexplained guest and obviously representing a military force. These dudes had to be Dawn employees and I suspect I was going to be interviewed, sorry, interrogated by the boss man. That thought sent a chill up my spine. That was not a good prospect. Okay, now it’s time for fear to set in.

I heard voices. There was an Australian one amongst them. It sounded familiar. A feeling of complete and total relief overwhelmed me as I recognised that voice. I’d know it anywhere, Chook fucking Ingham! Thank God! Obviously, someone had contacted the aircrew and they had come to get me. Maybe these guys were the Police.

The door opened. I smiled under the gag rag over my mouth. Chook was standing there in shorts, t-shirt and runners. With him were two of the guards. Chook wasn’t smiling. The guard untied me from the chair and lifted me up. Chook was talking, in a whisper to another man, Costa Maurian, also in uniform. They moved me out. Chook glanced at me and then looked away. He was probably doing it by the book, everything official. We would certainly have a good laugh about it later over a few beers. The guards escorted me to another room at the far end of the building. They had light down there. I noticed a couple of offices. The new room had a large table with chairs set around it. An overhead projector was set up at one end. The walls were grimy, as was the floor. A chair was pulled away from the table and I was shoved on to it. My mind was going for it trying to figure out what was going on. I soon had the answer.

Chook came in and indicated that the gag be removed. A guard complied. I exercised my mouth a few times. Then the guards were excused. They closed the door behind them. Next thing, Chook hit me. He belted me across the face, his fist smashing into my right cheek and knocking me off the chair. Unable to stop myself, as my hands were still tied, I sprawled onto the floor. I saw stars as my head hit the concrete floor. ‘Get up!’ Chook spat as he grabbed the front of my shirt and hauled my back into the chair. I heard the collar rip and I fleeting thought I’d now have to apologise to Marty.

Chook stood back. ‘What the fuck are you doing here?’ ‘Gidday Chook.’ I answered, tasting blood from the inside of my mouth. ‘I was going to say, it’s good to see you, but I...’

‘Shut up! Just shut up, you stupid fucking fool!’

Chook turned away and ran his fingers through his hair. He walked to the other end of the room, then turned and said, ‘So why? Why are you in Costa Mauri?’

I studied him for a moment. I think that was the point the realisation that I had the wrong man dawned on me, no pun intended. Chook was the agent, not Block. That opened up a whole new gamut of questions, so many, it made my head spin. Slow down, Macca, I cautioned myself. I asked, ‘Why are you?’

He came towards me. I expected another hit. ‘I ask the questions, Macca, you answer them.’

‘Are you interrogating me?’

‘I’m trying to save you.’

I scoffed, ‘Yeah, right. That’s why I’m tied up and you belted me.’ ‘I’m saving you from those bastards.’ He pointed towards the door, ‘If they get hold of you...’ He didn’t finish, just ran his finger across his throat. I dismissed him, looking up and away. He went on, ‘I had to hit you to make it look like I was rough with you. It’s all about image and power. They don’t understand anything else.’

I looked Chook in the eye. ‘What happened to you? How did you end up involved with this mob?’

Chook looked away, shook his head, ‘You wouldn’t understand, Macca.’

‘Wouldn’t I? Try me.’

He paced to the end of the room.

I said, ‘Don’t tell me it just the money, Chook. The ten grand.’ He didn’t respond. I went on, ‘That’s the going rate, isn’t it? Ten thousand dollars per act of treason?’

‘I said, you wouldn’t understand.’ He said quietly without turning.

‘Wouldn’t I? I’d like to try. I thought I knew you.’

After a moment, he turned and said, ‘I’m being blackmailed, okay.’

‘Blackmailed?’ I repeated. ‘By who?’

‘Bad people, Macca. Killers. If I don’t pay, I die. It’s that

simple.’

‘Who? Who are they, Chook? Why are they blackmailing you?’

‘Why do you care?’

‘I care, Chook because you’re my friend. Fonz was my friend and I’m

having a hard believing two of my mates are wrapped up in this bullshit.’ Chook wandered towards me rubbing his chin. I felt he wanted to tell me, but somehow found it difficult to give me details. He leaned toward me and said, ‘I saw something, something I shouldn’t have seen. I wanted to tell someone about it but they got to me. Either I work for them, shut up or I’m dead. They also pay everytime I do a job for them.’

I tried to take on board his confession. In my fatigued state it was a challenge. ‘What... what sort of work?’

He straightened and opened his arms. ‘Whatever I’m told to do. Like this mission, making sure it happens, recruiting Portella, paying off the other operatives, shit like that.’

‘Other operatives? Who?’

He smiled. ‘Sorry, Macca. Need to know, mate. I’m sure you’ve heard that before.’ He paused, then said. ‘I’ll tell you this much, he’s much closer than you think.’

My brow creased. I tried to think who, then I looked at him. ‘Chook, let me go. We’ll go back and arrest the bastards. Claim immunity by giving evidence. I’ll help you.’

‘You! Help me! That’s a laugh. You have no idea what these pricks can do. Correction, will do.’

‘Bullshit, I can help you. Let me try.’ I pleaded.

He glared down at me. ‘No! You can’t! Okay! You can’t help me!’

‘You’re a gutless coward, Chook. You let these pricks control your

life. You make me sick.’ I spat at him.

‘Don’t ever call me that!’ He yelled hitting me again across the face with the back of his hand. I didn’t fall this time, but more blood came out of my mouth as the inside of my lip impacted my teeth. I could feel pain under my eye and I wondered briefly if my cheekbone was broken. ‘Enough friendly banter, Macca, now tell me why you are here and where that other fucker is?’

I looked up.

‘Wha over focker?’ I said, through a swelling lip.

‘Don’t bullshit me. We know about the other bloke. We’ve seen the crate.

You told the crew there were two of you.’

I shrugged. ‘Then you know. Why ask me?’

‘Because you have orders!’ He spat, ‘Orders to arrest me!’ He pulled the Minister’s letter out of his pocket.

Inwardly my heart sank. My hand had been shown to the opposition. I can only guess that Block had alerted Chook to my presence, then Chook had organised my arrest. The Dawn thugs had then checked out the warehouse and discovered the crate compartments. The only card I had left to play was the fact that they hadn’t found Rick. With him still missing, they had loose ends to tie. I looked Chook in the eye, ‘Unless you change sides, I fully intend to carry out that order.’

‘Ha!’ Chook responded, ‘Exactly how do you intend to do that? Well, Mister Smart Arse? Do you have any idea what those pricks are capable of?’ he pointed at the door, again, ‘As usual, you are so full of shit, McKay. You’re fucked. So, if you want to live any longer, I suggest you co-operate.

Tell me where Moriarty is?’

I smiled, ‘Hopefully, he’s aiming his rocket launcher at this building.’ That took Chook initially by surprise, then he said, ‘Nice try, Macca. Don’t worry, mate, they’ll get their answers. I’m sorry you didn’t co-operate with me, I might have been able to save you, but now, once they’ve finished with you, you’ll be eliminated.’

‘Like Fonz?’

‘Fonz? That idiot should have kept his mouth shut.’ Chook turned away, he checked his watch. ‘We don’t have time for this.’ He quickly turned back and faced me. ‘Last chance, Macca. Were is your buddy?’ I smiled, ‘You’ll find out, soon enough.’

He closed his eyes and slowly shook his head. ‘You silly prick.’ He straightened. ‘I’ve tried mate, for old time’s sake. But, you’ve given me no choice. Sorry.’

He turned towards the door. I had to think quick and buy myself time. I didn’t know what time it was but I figured it had to be around 3.00 am. Four hours to go until John Drover and the crew met. I wasn’t sure what Chook was going to do. How would he explain me missing? That’s assuming the crew knew what was going on. I acted on impulse. ‘He’s dead.’ ‘What.’ Chook stopped, looked at me.

‘He’s dead.’ I repeated.

Chook raised his head, ‘Nice try, Macca.’

‘No! It’s true. He died in his crate. When it fell off the truck.’

Chook looked visibly surprised. ‘It fell off?’

I nodded. ‘He got speared by a stake or something. You saw the crate, surely you saw the hole.’

Chook shook his head and sat in a chair. ‘What happened?’ He asked. I began to explain the drive from the airstrip to Mullamuk and while I was busy doing that I was also busily trying to cut my way through the plastic cable zip tie that held my wrists. It was made of tough plastic, probably 8mm wide and at least 3mm thick. When I had been put back onto the chair after Chook had knocked me off, my thumb was cut on a tiny weld dag on the frame of the chair. Now, you’re probably thinking, how bloody convenient, and I admit, I thought the same thing, but there you go! The tiny dag was like a point, created years before when the manufacturer finished his weld leaving a tiny sharp point. I was slowly cutting a groove in the zip tie. I needed to be very careful though. If I cut right through, the tie would just drop to the floor and the game would be up. So I had to weaken it enough, so when the opportunity presented itself, I could break it and then do something. What that was going to be, I wasn’t sure. I finished my story about Rick’s untimely death. We were both startled by the knock on the door.

Chook got up and opened it a little. He spoke quietly in English. The other voice was also English, and it was surprisingly, female. I couldn’t make out the conversation but Chook and the woman were both agitated. Lots of ‘I know’, ‘I will’ and ‘Alright!’ going on. Chook cast an eye on me every now and then. I had to be careful I wasn’t spotted moving my arms. He shut the door, then said, ‘I want to see the body.’

‘Why?’ I asked, then faking realisation added, ‘Oh, no loose ends.’

‘Where is he?’

‘I buried him.’

‘Where?’

‘Near the warehouse, um, petrol station.’

Chook put his face close. I could taste his breath. ‘Whereabouts?’ He again asked with raising anger.

‘I...I don’t know exactly. But I can show you.’ I stammered. Chook reached out and grabbed my collar. He was bigger than me, about six two and quite heavily built around the shoulders. He lifted me and said, ‘Let’s go!’

I was hustled out to the troopie. Before I was thrown in, Chook said, ‘Behave, Macca or so help me, I’ll kill you myself. Now get in!’ I was forced into the back. A guard joined me. I laughed at Chook’s tough act, put on to impress the locals. The doors were slammed shut. The guard was one of the originals that had arrested me. He was very dark with beetle nut reddened teeth. I assessed his strength, about my height but thinner. The big difference was the L1A1 he brandished. The other guard drove with Chook riding sub machine gun, an FI held across his lap. As we drove off, I looked out the back window. A woman was at the door of the police station. I saw her face and the recognition came to me like a slowly building wave. I muttered the words ‘fuck me’ as the wave washed over me. The guard said something that resembled, ‘Shut up.’ I looked at him, I said, ‘You speak English...Australian?’

‘Shut up.’

‘You hit my dog, I hit you.’ I smiled.

He smiled showing dark teeth in the dim light coming through from the cabin.

I kept smiling, all the while twisting and trying to separate my wrists.

‘No, shut up.’ He said, still smiling.

‘I kill you anyway, I think.’ I said smiling, but the smile was hiding the grimace as the zip tie cut into my wrists. I glanced forward. We were approaching the service station. I looked back at the guard. ‘Now I kill you.’

His stained smile lasted a microsecond. I launched myself across the threshold throwing my just released arms forward. The turning of the troopie into the driveway, assisted propelling me across. My hands sought his neck and I latched my fingers around it and pressed my thumbs into his windpipe with every ounce of strength I could muster. The look of surprise was frozen on his face as he tried desperately to get his hands up to defend himself. His own poor guarding technique and weapons handling was his undoing. My body and raised knees held down his left arm and legs but his right arm was wrapped in the rifle sling and as the rifle was at an odd angle, the arm was useless. He did hump up and down some and nearly knocked me off. I held on hoping he would give up. No such luck. The troopie was stopping and I had only a second or two to get moving.

I don’t think Chook or the driver knew what was going on as the diesel engine was noisy and the road was bumpy, masking the activities going on in the back. Soon enough though, those activities would be evident. My guard’s movements were now lessening, probably a result of his crushed windpipe. I held it a little longer as Chook and the other thug came to the back door. They didn’t appear to notice anything in the dark interior. I reacted as soon as I heard the door handle turn. I let go of the guard’s throat and literally launched myself at the door with a low shoulder charge, rugby league hero Blocker Roach would have been proud of. The door flew open collecting Chook and knocking him back. The other guard was taken by surprise as I kept going, leaping out of the troopie and running blindly into the bushes and jungle near the petrol station. ‘Get him!’ Chook yelled. The guard headed after me. I quickly scouted around the back of the warehouse. A shot rang out, loud and deep. 7.62mm. The bastard was shooting at me. Blam! Another and another. I heard no ricochet, he was shooting blind. I could hear him behind me though. I rummaged through the vegetation at a low crawl. I was looking for something. I could hear Chook yelling from the front of the petrol station probably trying to motivate o’l Beetlenut. Another shot! That was close. I quickly glanced behind. I could see the branches moving. I made my way around to the far side, near the warehouse entrance. I saw the sheet of corrugated iron. Scurrying along and expecting a bullet any second, I lifted the sheet. I sensed I was being watched and I heard the low growl. My bowels near on opened on the spot as I just made out the dark eyes in the residual light.

‘Shit oh dear!’ I managed as Pongo launched himself at me. I instinctively ducked expecting his fangs to latch onto my head. Instead, he ran up to the iron sheet like a skier going up a ramp and jumped over me. I heard him growl and the unmistakable sound of a man being mauled. I turned to see Pongo, his head down growling as he tore the guard’s throat out, the banshee scream being replaced by a gurgling, bubbling sound. ‘Shit Pongo,’ I said as I quickly retrieved the Steyr I had hidden earlier, ‘You sure hold a grudge.’

With the Steyr cocked, I melted back into the jungle leaving Pongo to enjoy his meal. Chook heard the melee. I manoeuvred myself to see the troopie. Chook had been able to get Bettlenut moving, how I don’t know. He was slowly moving towards his buddy. Chook himself was holding station using the troopie for protection. Smart man.

Beetlenut moved cautiously towards the corner of the warehouse. I looked back towards Pongo. He was gone. Shit! What was he up to? I looked around, searching. I heard Chook yell out something in Pidgin. Beetlenut responded with a mumble, that being all he was capable of. I sensed movement again. Pongo, going like the wind! He come out from behind the other corner and ran straight at Beetlenut. The distance was too far, he should have waited, a point I hoped I’d be able to make at his debrief. Beetlenut saw him, raised his rifle and quickly aimed. So did I. Even in dawn’s first light the image of Beetlenut was quite clear in the sight of the Steyr. I pulled the trigger. The 5.56mm round left the barrel at about 260 metres per second crossing the twenty-metre distance almost instantly. The round penetrated Beetlenut’s head just in front of his ear and blasted it way out taking the side of his skull with it. That, and the contents of his head ended up hitting the roller door of the warehouse. Beetlenut fell in a pile. Pongo called off his attack and sniffed at Beetlenut. I heard Chook say, ‘You’re fucked now, McKay!’

Then I heard the troopie start.

‘Fuck you!’ I said to myself as I broke cover and ran out to the front of the building. Chook was turning the vehicle and heading off, the diesel engine screaming. I ran, stopped, aimed and fired three single shots at the retreating vehicle. I saw the back window shatter. I ran some more noting Pongo zoom past me in full flight. I lowered to one knee, selecting auto on the weapon at the same time. I pulled the trigger, a stream of rounds chasing their target until it was out of sight.

‘Next time, fucker.’ I muttered, releasing the trigger. I stood up and called, ‘Pongo! Pongo!’ He came back towards me, panting. I crouched down.

‘Well mate,’ I said giving his loose coat a good rub. ‘You came through. How are you? Howz ya head?’ I touched the top of his head. He growled and shook me off.

‘Sorry, mate. Not real good, I guess.’

I stood up, looked around the scene. Daylight was filtering through. I said to Pongo, ‘Well mate, I reckon we’ve got a fucks-pence amount of time before the baddies come. So, I reckon it’s time we went underground, so to speak.'