Ecounter(z) chap-33 <stripped>

A blast from the past, redefining the present, what you see is not what you get, encounters of the Island kind.

And for the Lifeguard Captain, DJ, and his best mate Chief Constable Ryan, they like that grey zone of uncomfortable encounters, it defines souls and characters.

Malta - 09:30 Monoel Island Marina:

The weather is fine with a slight breeze.

The Lifeguard Captain and Chief Constable have teamed up on an incident involving an intoxicated boater that collided with a Lifeguard rescue boat the evening before.

The offending driver has returned to the Marina, being questioned by Police and an insurance investigator.

It’s not so much the incident that draws the interest of the two best mates; it’s the driver of the boat that caused the collision.

DJ powers down to a slow wakeless speed through the inlet separating Monoel Island from the Mainland Island in the 9.5 meter, bright orange twin engine RIIB Rescue Boat with all the official trimmings, roll bar, radio antennas, mounted spot lights, rescue gear, the Maltese Cross Sea Rescue insignia.

Other boaters give a wave here and there, the tour boat Captains always have a greeting of their own style.

Sea patrol attire, Sea sport dark sunglasses, DJ with his trade mark Malta Sea Rescue head sock banded in the rear with a bit of the chic pirate look.

 Portside sleek racing yachts prepping for trial runs in the upcoming Malta international regatta.

Seagulls loitering by dock side eateries waiting for the next morsel to thug.

On the roadside embankment above the marina, several black SUV luxury vehicles, dark tinted windows with diplomat number plates displaying the India flag.

A tailored cut fit security team looks on.

In the middle of this center dock powwow, the infamous, some say notorious, retired Colonel Hafed Gupta, former chief of India Intelligence for Research and Analysis Wing Aka: RA&W, the MI6 or CIA of India, now an International Diplomat and Ambassador to the EU.

It’s been over a decade or so since the two best mates last saw him. He looks good, dressed in Bermuda shorts with that trade mark senior Indian gentleman silver streaked combed back hair, every bit the picture of a successful distinguished India diplomat with all the charm, albeit embarrassed over a boat collision incident the day before in front of the yacht club.

DJ eases the rescue boat up to the marina; a dock attendant catches the mooring lines and cleats them.

The two walk calmly up behind the group and stand back at a bit of a distance, at ease, a police officer looks over, Chief Ryan hand signals in silence; proceed, and the two best mates wait in the back ground, observing.

Hafed politely ask the Police, “How serious is the violation of operating a watercraft intoxicated with damage to the Lifeguard boat”?

The madam Police officer smiles, “Well Ambassador Gupta you can ask the Chief Constable and Lifeguard Captain yourself their standing right behind you”.  

There’s an awkward hesitation, he turns, pauses, lifts his sunglasses, DJ and Ryan do the same.

Hafed gazes, squints for a closer look, a deep breath as if he’s looking at two ghosts. It’s clear to DJ and Ryan with all Intel resources, as smart as he is; he never expected two former top SAS counterintelligence assets from the Joint Africa operations that lead his teams in and out of situations they still can’t talk about, even though the scenarios are used in India Special Forces training to this day.

And now the two he once trusted with his life, have appeared in front of him together on an Island paradise in the middle of the Mediterranean.

It’s been a long time.

Chief Ryan motions to Police officers for the file and thumbs through the paperwork; DJ stands in silence and stares eye to eye with Hafed.

Ryan breaks the frozen moment.

“The question for a first offense is; a citation with a fine or the usual five days in jail and public duty service like picking-up litter on the beach”?  

“But then the Lifeguard Captain needs to weigh in on this because of the damage to his boat”.

Ryan hands the file to DJ; DJ thumbs through it, hums and haws a bit, turns to the insurance inspector, “Where is my rescue boat getting repaired”? 

 “Regatta Yacht Club, there’s a RIIB specialist there now”.

DJ hands the file back to the Police Officer, “That’s on the other side of Grand Harbor, why don’t the three of us cruise over there and take a look before we make any final decisions”.

Glancing at Hafed with a sly grin.

Chief Ryan chimes in “Good idea, I can’t sign off on this until I see a cost damage assessment to government property”.

Hafed, hands in pockets, looks down, bounces a bit on his toes, tight lipped, he knows he’s  not getting out of this one, even as an international diplomat, diplomatic immunity and all that.

This situation could go sideways fast, and wouldn’t look good in the Press especially back in India.

Shrugs his shoulders “Well of course I’m willing to comply”

Chief Ryan smiles, “Happy to have your cooperation Mr. Ambassador Gupta, let’s get this sorted out and very possibly the entire incident can go away”.

Hafed, phone in hand “I’ll just tell my security team to stay put and I’ll be back in a few hours”.

Out into the harbor, DJ throttles-up the boat to plaining speed, out towards open sea, around the Fort St. Elmo point, just beyond the entrance of the Grand Harbor, past the break water jetties.

The morning Sea saline air, that high speed skip and glide aqua ride.

Sea birds overhead a drift, a pod of Dolphins breaking the waters with wakes of rift.

The view of city and Sea and Mediterranean history.

He throttles back into a slow glide and turns off the motors, reaches in the cooler and hands out bottled water and sits.

It’s a moment of peacefulness with flashbacks, their all a bit older, a few more facial lines, some silver haired streaks, all survivors of a craft, a profession their countries invested in, paid for by tax payers receipts, in blood and treasure, sweat and tears and secrets lingering like ghost, some told, some yet to be told and some never to be told.

They all bear scars in one way or another. There’s no heroes here, it’s a kind of has been fraternity, supposedly of an honorable profession of the sane, some survivors have drifted to the insane, experiences that traumatized and handicapped others mentally and physically, some died and other comrades are part of the living dead biding their time.

DJ looks at Hafed, “How do we deal with this and survive and stay friends”?

Hafed shakes his head, “Umm, I don’t want to start a war with you Gents, I know I’m on your turf…I just want to”

Ryan interrupts, “The same thing we want, the Cartel leader Pratap, your former counter Intel officer, you made him”.

Hafed nods in agreement,” Ya, ahh, that’s pretty much it with a twist and we’re trying to recover something else”.

DJ leans back, “You’re not hear to capture Pratap or his Cartel bosses and bring em’ to justice, nor his state sponsors, you’re here to kill Pratap, erase any evidence and anyone else of opportunity”.

Hafed gazes skyward, sips a bit of water, nods in agreement,

“That’s right, this situation is an internal national embarrassment for us, a shame on our hands, it’s more like an honor killing and ahhh, your right, I created him, I should have listen to you two all those years ago, but, at the time we were all riding a wave of successes and my career was going in the right direction, umm, like the famous quote from the film character, Tony Montana, I was too high on my own supply, when in fact a demon that I created was in the midst, and here we are, I apologize”.

Pause…

“I actually missed you guys, it was never the same when the Joint Op’s were called off”.

Ryan points a finger “Back then, DJ and I had several opportunities to off Pratap outside the wire down range, we could of terminated him out in the field, he would of never been found and listed as missing in action MIA”

Hafed shakes his head, as if he’s disgusted with himself and lets out a frustrated “Uhhahh”!

“That wouldn’t have worked, I could see the tension and mistrust you blokes had, if you would’ve terminated him I would of come for you both. Even with Pratap’s double dealings and personal agenda out in the field, the Intel was still flowing, the missions were, for the most part successful, I was lying to myself that I could deal with it, I thought I had a plan to deal with it when we got back to India, but, he spun a good defense story at the military inquiry and let’s face it, on paper he had allot of successes, good ones. It was like having a fox in the hen house”.

 DJ breaks in; “ And our former CO, Bratten”?

Hafed turns in a jerking motion with stop hand gesture;

“No, it wasn’t my people nor MI6, he was murdered on Pratap’s orders with a very sophisticated hard to trace time release designer barbiturate made by”.

Ryan cuts in “Made and patented by an Indian pharmaceutical company in Hyderabad, we have two victims washed up on our coast suited up in commando swim kit that died from the same drug”.

Hafed hangs his head and nods, “Those were my guys coming out of Libya with the goods on Pratap, ferried by a cargo ship passing off the coast at night, someone on that ship dosed them”.

Pause…

“Look I can help you guys avoid a conflict here Pratap and the Cartel are gathering for a big deal going down with allot of money and”…

DJ blurts out “NOPE” WRONG”!

 “Its Rhodium, we found it, Pratap has enough in the pipe lines to keep refining , his big cash buyers and inside market traders are in the London Metals Exchange, drooling over this and other strategic grade rare earth elements he supplies”.

“Prataps Congo River Valley slave labor network is in a major deposit zone. That Rhodium we recovered has about four times the street value of a good gram of Cocaine, there’s no big cash deal here, it’s a swap and crypto currency payoff for debts”.

Hafed , a bit offended, starts in a disciplinary loud tone “We’ve worked this case for years and”!

DJ interrupts “ No, no and no, you followed what you were lead to believe, this Cartel meeting is about settlements, no big fucking deals, no mafia grand collusion scheme, people want their money and that includes Pratap’s state sponsors, it’s a tax free, high velocity cash flow commodity  business, not a bloody ideology with voodoo grand schemes or a political agenda of some sort”.

“Get a fucking clue for bloody hell sakes”!

Hafed gazes at DJ in disbelief “But how do you know”?

DJ takes off his sunglasses leans forward nose to nose “Look into my eyes master intelligence Guru! What was I when I got out of military service”!?

 “Umm you were a trader at a London bank”

“And who were my clients”?!

Hafed cringes “Commodities, natural resources and the likes”

And what’s been washing up on my beach, our coast line?!

DJ leans back with a glaring stare, Chief Ryan chuckles with a grin.

DJ starts in again,

“Our former SAS commanding officer ‘Colonel Bratten’ your good friend died a very wealthy man, linked into the UK government, politicians and market regulators for the London Metals Exchange, a member of all the right social clubs, he realized what Pratap was up to years before we all did, and Pratap paid him well”.

“Pratap is in a market squeeze, freak climate change storms interrupted the supply chain, migrant bonded labor is down, edgy market traders, cash flow delays, it’s a toxic mix and then there’s the Crypto currency trades to hide money laundering, the crypto wallets are stashed here in Malta on a server we now have control of, he can see it online via an encrypted browser, but he can’t get to it without the block chain key codes that are with us, but he doesn’t know that yet”.

Hafed turns a bit smug, the tactic of bravado as if he’s got something to bargain with, lifts his hands, looking at the two;

 “I have allot of assets and resources that you need, maybe, we can team up again, like old times, I’ve got what you need, you’ve got what I need.”

DJ gazes out at the view of the Grand harbor Sea scape…

“Maybe! Fuck’n Maybe! that’s all you got is a fuck’n maybe. I don’t think you get the gravity of the situation here or you’re a little rusty on how this counter Intel game works Mr. Ambassador SIR”!

DJ abruptly stands, takes off his sunglasses and shirt “I say we go for a swim and think about it”!

The three strip down to their shorts and dive in.

The clear Mediterranean is cool and refreshing as the three swim, chat and recall old times.

Hafed jerks, staring into the water, looking a bit alarmed, in calm yet concerned voice,

“Ahh gents, the water is moving underneath me”

“Umm, what’s going on here”?

DJ dives underwater for about 30 seconds and surfaces with a smile,

“It’s a bait ball, anchovies schooling, don’t worry about it”

As the three chat and laugh, the water around them changes darker in color.

The massive anchovy bait ball rises to the surface and swirls around them, herded by a pod of bottle nose dolphins blowing bubbles to keep the ball in a controlled sphere shape.

Silver flashes and reflections from small fish darting around in condensed swarm.

Sea birds hovering over head start diving, hitting the water at full free fall speed splashing the three men within arm’s length.

DJ and Ryan are fascinated enjoying the moment in a swirling cloud of small fish as the dolphins break the surface swimming at speed at times grazing the swimmers, making eye contact with them.  

Moments later, a school of blue fin Tuna shows up. The blues are moving in out of the massive bait ball at eye blinking speeds. At an average of two meters in length, 200 kilos or so, bigger than any one of the three men, they’re surrounded in aqua shadows and glimpses of flash reflections as the predators are gleaning the bait fish darting at blitz speed.

 It’s an eerie feeling, fascinating for the Chief Constable and the Lifeguard Captain, it’s there world.

 Not so for the International diplomat and former master spy chief.

 A fin from a Blue shark breaks the surface in between swimmers, the tail brushes Hafed’s leg. 

Hafed starts to panic, this is not his world, facial expressions of terror, his breaths become more short and rapid.

His motions are more jerking with a bit of struggle and splash.

The Lifeguard boat has now drifted about 50 about meters away.

DJ and Ryan are enjoying the moment and revel in the midst of nature and Sea teaming with wild life.

The swirls of water take on an almost surface boil effect. The feeding frenzy gets more aggressive, attracting larger predators of the Bay.

More shark fins break the water and dolphins are more aggressive. Hafed, he can’t tell the difference and hyperventilation starts.

Sea birds, like dive bombers, slamming the water surface, surfacing and squawking.

The water boils and stirs.

Terror in Hafed’s eyes.

The panic, nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, the fear of deep and the dark.

He starts splashing water in exhausted desperation gasping “OK, OK I’ll do whatever you want, you’re in charge of the Op’s. Please ! Please! Get me the fuck out of here! I just want to go back to my wife and life, Help Me! Please”!

It’s a plea that turns into a shrieking beg.

DJ ducks underwater, swims through the bait ball surfacing behind Hafed and grabs him with a firm cross chest rescue grip.

“Easy mate, breath with me, long in, easy out, don’t struggle. There’s a lot of wild life in this water, they sense panic and feed on it, hear every vibration of breath. They’re focused on the bait ball don’t give them a reason to turn their attention on us”.

Hafed gasp and tries to refocus with longer breaths. His face contorted in fear, lips blue and tremoring.

DJ starts a slow graceful sidestroke tow swimming towards the Lifeguard boat.

Ryan is ahead of them with a big shit eating grin on his face.

DJ and Ryan lift, more like haul Hafed in the boat dropping him on the deck as he rolls over coughing, spitting up water, trying to catch every breath in recovery.

 DJ kneels by his side blocking the glare of sun from his eyes.

“This is our world, what you think you see on the surface, is not whats lurking in the depths, it’s not about who wins or loses here, it's about who survives"

“You’re not the only predator on this Island”.