Double Blindside by Don Pendleton

Author:Don Pendleton
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781460349984
Publisher: Worldwide Library
Published: 2014-01-15T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

“We confiscated this some months ago,” Kartal said. “It belonged to a gang of smugglers dealing in narcotics.”

“Looks like a dirty fishing boat to me,” Encizo quipped.

Kartal smiled. “Exactly what it was,” she said. “The gang thought they were being extremely clever. The drugs were dropped by the delivery vessel in plastic containers placed in lobster pots, with a floating marker so the smugglers could see them. They would sail out in the early morning and pick them up.”

“Not the most original idea,” McCarter said. “Been used before.”

“The smugglers were quite successful for a few months, but they didn’t count on an undercover agent infiltrating the supply gang. He managed to plant a direction locator in one consignment. We picked up the signal and caught the smugglers in the act. Result—one narcotic gang arrested and drugs recovered. And we inherited one old fishing boat.”

“At least it can earn its mooring fees,” Hawkins said.

Tied up at the quayside, the boat was no showpiece. The paintwork was bleached and peeling, the smokestack soot-streaked and rusty. A couple of windows in the wheelhouse were missing, while others were cracked and grubby. A pile of mildewed fishing nets lay on the aft deck and it was possible to smell the lingering odor of dead fish.

“Does it run?” Encizo said.

“Yes. It may look to be in a bad way but the engine is in excellent condition.”

“Load up, gang, we’re going on a sea voyage,” McCarter said.

“No need to make it sound like it might be fun,” James said. “This could turn out to be a disaster.”

It was just getting light. A faint breeze ruffled the water beyond the shoreline.

Kartal smiled. “It will be a smooth crossing,” she said. “No rough water today. And why would anyone be concerned about an innocent fishing boat going about its business?”

“It’s not the crossing I’m worried about,” James said. “It’s the reception.”

McCarter ignored him as he helped Encizo load their gear onto the boat. They had all dressed in black combat suits and boots for the insertion with a traditional Turkish fishing smock over their clothing. Each of them wore a handgun and had a knife sheathed on their belt. The carryalls they placed on the deck held subguns and ammunition supplied by Kartal from the NIO armory.

Encizo took charge of the engine, going through the startup procedure. When the diesel power plant burst into life, it quickly settled into a throaty, steady pulse.

“Sounds good,” Encizo said, taking his place behind the wheel.

Kartal released the mooring lines and as Encizo boosted the power, the fishing boat pulled away from the quay and out into the open water.

Spreading out a navigation chart, Kartal indicated their destination. McCarter studied it with her and noted the navigation coordinates she had penciled in. He crossed the deck and set the compass mounted on the instrument panel.

“Keep us on that heading,” he said to Encizo. “You can stop when we hit land.”

“I hope that was metaphorical land,” James said.

McCarter shrugged.

“The island is thirty miles north to south,” Kartal said.

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