Moro (A Soldier fo Fortune Adventure #6) by Peter McCurtin

Author:Peter McCurtin [McCurtin, Peter]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Military, action adventure, hero, andy mcnab, Mercenaries, Piccadilly Publishing, soldiers of fortune, strikeback, Chris Ryan, Communists
Publisher: Piccadilly
Published: 2023-03-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

EARLY MORNING. THE river had widened to become an estuary, and we were coming into the port of Davao, when we came abreast of a patrol boat that was moving downriver at slow speed. It looked like a PT-Boat from World War II, except that it was much smaller and was armed with rockets instead of torpedoes. It had been badly shot up: I knew the engines had been damaged by the sound they made. Wounded men, maybe some dead men, lay on the deck; there was a lot of bullet holes, a lot of blood turning black in the sun. Then I saw the Cuban handcuffed to the railing. His cap was gone and his face was covered with blood and he hung over the rail with only the handcuffs to keep him from falling into the water. We moved on and river traffic get between us and the shot-up boat.

“That fella looked like a Cuban,” the captain said to the mate. “They must have captured him after they did for the Moros.”

“Good luck to them,” the mate said. “I hate fucking Cubans. Why don’t they stick to rhumba music like Desi Arnaz? Why do they have to go exporting revolution all the time?”

The captain spat in the oily waters of the harbor. “He’ll be sorry he didn’t stay in Cuba once the secret police get their dirty hands on him. Ah well, another day, another dollar. Let’s get on with it, Mr. Smithers.”

We edged in to the MacGregor dock and tied up. I said goodbye to the captain and he nodded, but didn’t offer to shake hands. I think he was a tough, competent man in his way; sure as hell he was no Fitzgerald.

There were uniformed policemen on the dock. They looked me over with brief professional interest as I went ashore and started up into the town. A busy town, Davao, just as Fitzgerald has described it. Freighters were tied up all along the docks; others, at anchor, were spotted in various parts of the harbor. Far out, too big to come in, a cruise ship stood up white and tall against the bright morning sky. The smell of the sea was everywhere.

I had no idea where I was going, but that was all right. First I would take a look at the town, then take it from there. There was a wide street called Rizal Street with a lot of bars and tourist shops on both sides. I went into a bar that called itself G.I. Joe’s, pushed my way through the crowd of early morning drinkers, and ordered a bottle of San Miguel, the only beer they make in the Philippines and very good beer it is, too.

The guy who owned or managed the place stood behind the bar, but didn’t help with the drinks. He wore a loud print shirt, had a thinning blond crewcut, and looked a little like Red Buttons. Old regular army was stamped all over him, from the way he talked to the way he stood.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.