Copyright © 2000 HHT Irrevocable Trust. All rights reserved.

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Chapter 11

AGANA, GUAM

PEDRO LIM WALKED DOWN A RAMP FROM THE PLANE, GLANCING OVER HIS SHOULDER EVERY FEW SECONDS. Normally, he would have been aware of the three Japanese men seated in first class, but their expensive suits and businessmen appearance had deceived him. The men left the plane ahead of him and waited in the terminal. Pedro noticed them, but wrongly assumed they were business executives.

Stepping from the terminal to an awaiting shuttle bus, Pedro, as Doug had suggested, went to the Hilton hotel. Inside the entry door, he stood for several minutes gazing at the luxurious décor of the lobby—the plush carpet and the huge crystal chandelier held his attention. Nearly all of the people in his home country would never know about this type of beauty.

His fascination with the new environment caused a carelessness that was uncommon to Pedro. By his careful lifestyle, he had avoided contact with the Yakz, a Japanese Mafia, for nearly a half century. The Yakz, however, assigned a person to tail him around the clock—using him as a lead to find buried gold in the Philippines.

While Pedro stood in the entry of the Hilton hotel, three men, possibly Yakz, waited in a taxi watching his every move.

Pedro finally stepped to the front desk and confirmed his reservations. Taking his room key, he stepped to the elevator—unaware of a man following him. A Japanese businessman, carrying expensive luggage, entered the elevator with him. Both men exited on the fifth floor—the Japanese man walking past him as Pedro opened the door to his room. He entered the room with a concern about the man, but shook it off as only his imagination. After all, he had left his home at 4 a.m. that morning and driven to the airport using more caution than usual. He had even taken several diversionary steps at the air terminal to be sure that he wasn’t followed.

The business executive type man stepped around the corner of the hallway and reached for his cell phone. Calling his cohorts in the lobby, he gave them Pedro’s room number. They, in turn, reserved a room on the same floor near Pedro and met the man waiting on the fifth floor. Upon entering their room, one man immediately began changing his clothes. He slipped off his shirt, exposing the identifying tattoo of the Yakz—a chrysanthemum on his shoulder. They were definitely following Pedro to locate recovered gold, probably the Gold Buddha. Yakz most likely knew of the Gold Buddha recovery, even though Ernie and Charley had given them the slip when the gold was transferred to Palawan. Their only possible link to the Buddha was Pedro, and his sudden trip to Guam alerted all the leaders of the organization.

Pedro placed a telephone call to ‘Big O’. His ST sounded an alert, and ‘Big O’ answered, “Hello.”

“Pedro here in Guam.”

“Are you at the Hilton?”

“Yes, just arrived.”

‘Big O’ wanted Pedro to connect with Doug and fly with him to Saipan. “Doug will arrive at the seaport in Guam the first thing tomorrow. Are you sure nobody followed you from the Philippines?

“I was very careful,” Pedro answered.

“You’ll have to wait near the seaport tomorrow. I’ll be in contact with Doug so place a call to me mid-morning if they haven’t arrived.”

Pedro agreed and decided to get some rest, possibly early sleep—it had been a long day.

One of the Yakz men left his room and positioned himself in the lobby on a plush sofa. From there, he had a good view of the elevator doors and the front entry. His responsibility was to lookout for anyone coming or going in relation to Pedro Lim.

Early that evening, two Japanese men entered the Hilton lobby carrying a trunk. The Yakz man in the lobby arose and went directly to the elevator…with a casual indication that they should follow him. Holding the door open while they pushed the trunk inside, he pressed the button for the fifth floor.

Upon reaching their floor, the men slid the heavy trunk out the door and along the carpet to their room. Once the trunk was inside the room, the deliverymen left. Only then were the trunk’s contents examined—collapsible short rifles, pistols and ammunition. No one discussed the meaning of such a delivery, but each demonstrated a renewed feeling of power. They cocked the guns and sighted through the sights, then collapsed them again, testing their concealment in oversized briefcases—the 9mm pistols were easily concealed under their coats. Everything seemed to be in order.

The lookout man left the room and returned to the lobby. His shift would run until midnight; then he would be relieved.

Pedro, being tired, remained in his room with no intentions of leaving until morning. His physical endurance was not as strong as earlier in life. Contented with watching television and having a cool drink from the wet-bar, he settled into a relaxed position and soon fell asleep. After two hours, he went to bed and slept until 5 a.m. the next morning.

He took a quick shower and went to the restaurant for breakfast. Sitting at a booth facing the doorway, he carefully scanned each person entering. The large number of Japanese tourists surprised him—he hadn’t been to Guam for many years. It looked as if Japan had taken over the island.

A Yakz man entered the restaurant dressed in a business suit. He walked slightly behind a group of tourists, but acted as if he were not tying to hide.

Pedro studied him for a few seconds, but still failed to become suspicious. He finished eating, paid his bill and left the Hilton. A third Yakz man dressed in a brightly colored shirt and holding a camera blended into a group of tourists outside the hotel and watched intently as Pedro hailed a taxi. Turning his back toward Pedro, he opened his cell phone and spoke a few quick words.

The taxi carrying Pedro left, and his spotter stepped into a waiting taxi at the curb. Asking the driver to pursue the taxicab ahead, he made another call through his cell phone; then removed his outer shirt, exposing a khaki colored T-shirt. Meanwhile his two cohorts left the Hilton, acquired a taxi, and joined in the pursuit. They exchanged their suits, while in the taxi, for casual clothes, placing their suits inside an expandable carry bag.

Pedro went directly to the seaport. As he left his taxi, the taxi following him passed and stopped a half block away. His follower slipped from the taxi and sat casually on a nearby park bench. Pedro walked to the dock, checking the boats. There were several boats secured to the dock but no luxury yachts. It was still earlier than ‘Big O’ had indicated for the yacht’s arrival; so he decided to get an update.

Spotting a payphone, he walked to it and dialed the number given him by ‘Big O’.

‘Big O’ answered.

“Pedro again, any word from Doug?”

“Yes I’d expect them to be there within three hours. They’ve made good time and plan to arrive around ten o’clock.”

“I’m at the dock now; so I’ll just wait here.”

‘Big O’ then told him to call again if there were any problems.

After hanging up the phone, Pedro decided to have coffee in the nearby Portside Café; from there, he could view the entire dock. Sitting in a corner booth, he ordered coffee and settled in for a long wait.

In the meantime, the three Yakz men had met together and prudently stayed out of sight. They realized that Pedro was expecting the arrival of a ship, and all they had to do was watch Pedro until it arrived.

Ken, Bill and ‘Big O’ had been working for the last five days getting the Orphans and Infants hidden on the island of Tinian. Working all night in order to move their valuable cargo from the plane to the beach was an exhausting task. They had moved quickly, because Hatchet Jack wanted to leave before daylight.

As soon as Jack left in his monstrous “Cat”, the three men commenced moving the Orphans into an old Japanese underground bunker. Describing the bunker would be difficult to anyone not familiar with island warfare. The outside image of the bunker appeared to be a mound of earth covered by brush. Its entrance was away from the ocean and down a stone lined tunnel, through which the men had to crawl. The chamber was constructed of reinforced concrete with a slit-opening facing the ocean from which soldiers could watch for approaching ships. It had long since filled with debris; but daylight being his only source of light; Ken penetrated the debris with a strong stick. The entire cavity of the bunker measured about six feet square and five feet high. Ken, being older, accepted the job of arranging Orphans within the bunker, having to kneel all the time; while the other two raced back and forth carrying two or three Orphans at a time.

Jack awaited further instructions after flying to Guam for refueling ‘Big O’ wanted him to observe the arrival of the yacht and offer protection if needed. He took his five-day wait in stride, as he slept in the “Cat” anchored at the far end of the seaport dock. He had missed seeing Pedro; but as his ST signaled a call, he received a message from ‘Big O’…Pedro had arrived in Guam the night before and was waiting at the dock…the yacht would arrive in a few hours.

Hatchet Jack closed his ST and scanned the area with his field glasses. Three men were observed at a bus stop—of no particular interest; then moving his view toward the local café, he caught sight of Pedro through the window. He recognized Pedro although he had never met him. ‘Big O’ had used Jack since the beginning of the Gold Buddha operation to check on Pedro periodically. During his sporadic observations of Pedro, he had never encountered the Yakz; so he wasn’t alerted to any impending danger. Jack comfortably sat back in the pilot’s seat and continued to observe Pedro’s actions.

The Yakz men dispersed, going in different directions for a short distance and then stepping behind brush and shrubbery to continue watching the dock.

A couple hours drifted away, and all concerned were waiting when along the dock walked two unexpected figures—Harry and C2. Hatchet Jack came to life with a jolt, for he knew and recognized Harry because of his association with ‘Big O’. “I’d better check this out,” he said aloud, while placing a call to ‘Big O’.

‘Big O’ was trying to rest while lying on the muggy ground near the hidden bunker. Hearing a signal, he rolled toward his ST and opened the lid. “Yes.”

“Jack here…a new development…Harry and a short white guy just appeared on the scene.”

‘Big O’ sat straight up, “Are you sure?”

“You’d better believe it. I know Harry as well as you, and he’s walking along this dock right now…wait, they just spotted Pedro and ducked behind a building.”

“Let me know exactly what they do!”

“They’re in a huddle…like making plans. Now they’re sneaking around the port captain’s shack…they’ve disappeared.”

“Did Pedro see them?”

“No indication…he’s still drinking coffee in the local cafe.”

“This is a terrible twist. They have to be C2 with Harry still trying to recoup their losses in Mindanao…they’re capable of anything. They must be waiting for the yacht to show up. I haven’t been thinking of them—they know our plans. This presents a real danger to the lives of our team. I’m counting on your protection.”

“What should I do about them? Should I eliminate the problem?”

“Not yet, I’ll inform Doug and have him go directly to the café when they arrive—along with Capt. Scott. You be prepared to watch their blind-side.”

“Roger, I’m glad I saved a couple weapons here.”

“I am too, but don’t allow innocent bystanders to get injured.”

“Affirmative, I’ll stay in touch.”

“You do that. I want to know what happens every few minutes,” ‘Big O’ demanded.

“You’ve got it.”

‘Big O’ rushed to inform Bill and Ken of the alarming news. They couldn’t believe it either. C2 and Harry were no longer part of their thought process—they never imagined them coming back into their lives.

“We might have known they wouldn’t just disappear,” Bill said.

“You could bet your life that C2 won’t give up,” Ken added. “His self-centered personality is the most extreme I have ever seen. You know he refused to support his children after his divorce, and hasn’t seen them for years.”

‘Big O’ responded, “I knew he was a selfish, hateful man, but never knew the details.”

Ken continued, “Well, his vindictive personality is the main reason that I have never worked closely with him.”

“What happens now?” Bill asked.

‘Big O’ replied while shaking his head in frustration, “It’s out of our hands…we have to rely on Hatchet Jack.”

“Could we divert the yacht to another port?” Ken asked.

“They are too low on fuel…they have to stop at Guam…it’s the only available port,” ‘Big O’ explained. “Well, here goes…I have to alert Doug.” He then called Doug.

‘Big O’ heard Doug click on his ST; and, without waiting, shouted. “Doug are you there?”

“Yes, man what’s wrong?”

“Something none of us can believe…Harry and C2 are waiting for you in Guam.”

“Are you sure?”

“Affirmative, Hatchet Jack saw them on the dock. He’s there as extra protection.”

“We have to continue to Guam for fuel…we’re too low.”

“I know that. When do you plan to arrive?”

“In ninety minutes.”

‘Big O’ formulated a plan while talking. “As soon as you dock, take Capt. Scott with you to get him away from the yacht. Meet Pedro at the Port Café…you’ll see it near the dock. Go inside and explain to Pedro. I’ll call Jack and have him cover you at the café with instructions to prevent anyone from entering. Take small firearms with you.”

“What about Capt. Scott’s crew?”

“Warn them and position them below deck.”

“Roger, I’ll signal you on your GSC as we approach the dock. Contact me with final instructions.”

“Roger. I’m receiving a signal right now from Jack; so be getting back to you.”

“Yes, Jack.”

“Harry and C2 are hiding in a small shed…looks like a tool shed.”

“Did you see any weapons?”

“Negative, but never had a good full view…Harry carried a scuba-gear bag.”

‘Big O’ then explained his conversation with Doug. “The yacht will arrive in about an hour and a half. The captain and Doug will meet Pedro and go inside the café. There’ll probably be four crewmen still on the yacht—below deck with weapons. Don’t let anyone enter the café.”

“Can the crew handle Harry if he boards the yacht?”

“I believe they’ll have the advantage. They are armed and know he’s a possible threat.”

Jack then suggested, “I’m sure Harry will attempt to highjack the yacht; so as soon as he boards the yacht, I’ll be right behind him.”

“Use your own judgment on that one,” ‘Big O’ answered.

Hatchet Jack replied with exaggerated breaths, “I didn’t expect this kind of action, but my blood is pumping now…don’t worry about a thing.”

“The only way I wouldn’t worry is if I were there…keep in touch. Let me know before you leave the plane.”

Doug sat alone on the deck; and as soon as he saw a speck of land on the horizon, he called ‘Big O’. “Guam is in sight…any instructions.”

“Hatchet Jack is waiting—fully armed. He expects you to secure yourself inside the café with Capt. Scott and Pedro. Don’t allow anyone to enter…Jack will be outside as soon as Harry and/or C2 board the yacht. It is most likely that Harry will go on board to secure the yacht and C2 will be behind him…possibly going directly to the pilothouse to hotwire the yacht.”

“You think then that they will try to sail away?”

“Probably…after forcing the crew off the yacht.”

“They won’t get far…no fuel.”

“Knowing Harry, he’ll have some fuel stashed somewhere. They must have been in Guam for a long time waiting. I’d guess they would try to sail to Palau.”

“That’s not going to happen,” Doug stated with firmness.

“Don’t forget how it really is…we have all the real treasure here. All we need to do is prevent them from getting here,” ‘Big O’ explained.

“If they see that you and Bill are not on the yacht they’ll guess that you are close by,” Doug explained.

“Between you and me,” ‘Big O’ said with a somber voice. “They can’t escape. Did you set the charge?”

“Affirmative, it’s in the yacht’s hull.”

“That charge will treat the hull like cardboard…no worries. If they leave, blow the sucker when it gets just outside the reef.”

“You mean blowup the yacht?”

“Affirmative. We can always buy a new yacht.”

Doug closed his eyes in dismay, thinking of what unpredictable danger lay ahead. “Well, the island looks larger…getting closer…here goes nothing.”

“Good luck, men. Bill and I are praying for your safety. Let any material things go by the way to protect your lives.”

“I understand that. See you later,” Doug replied and shut his ST.

Grabbing his arm, Doug asked Luis the chef to follow him, as he rushed below deck. Doug ran around gathering the six hidden Orphans. “Get a small carry-on bag and put these three bars inside it,” he told Luis. “You, Capt. Scott and I are leaving the boat at the dock, and I want you to carry these with you.”

Luis took the bars, with a smile on his face, thinking, “Maybe these will be mine…they could buy my restaurant.”

Doug began the task of preparing the other three crewmen for possible danger. “You men stay below deck with your rifles in hand and loaded. Position yourselves right over there,” he said, pointing to the end bunk. “Luis is coming ashore with Capt. Scott and me to buy more supplies.”

The crewmen casually did as instructed, but failed to feel the urgency of Doug’s instructions.

Doug took the remaining three bars up the stairs to the pilothouse. He spoke to Capt. Scott. “For some reason I feel like keeping some of the gold with us when we leave the yacht—after all it is yours.”

Capt. Scott smiled and asked, “What about the case in the safe?”

“Let’s take it too. You go get it—I’ll hold the wheel.”

Capt. Scott left for a few minutes then returned with the fifty-pound case. “This baby’s heavy,” he said.

“Not heavy when you think of it as two hundred and sixty thousand dollars.”

“I see what you mean,” Capt. Scott laughed.

Doug then explained his idea. “You put these three bars in a pack sack and carry it, and I’ll carry the case when we leave the yacht…Luis is coming with us carrying three other Orphans.”

Capt. Scott moved his head in a confused up and down rhythm, trying to grasp the unreal reality.

‘Big O’ alerted Hatchet Jack, who confirmed that that yacht was in sight.

“I’m pumped. Don’t worry about a thing,” Jack spoke with confidence.

“It’s in your hands now,” ‘Big O’ said, “I’m all ears; so keep me informed.”

Then came a brief reply, “Roger.”

Pedro saw the approaching dot in the ocean and hoped it was the yacht. Keeping his eyes fixed, he watched as it drew closer and at last, recognized a stately yacht. Leaving the café, he rushed to stand on the dock.

Hatchet Jack reached for his weapon and cracked the side door of the plane. A floating platform below the plane was securely in place with a ladder firmly attached. He knelt, watching Pedro and then the yacht, then Pedro, then the tool shed that hid his immediate enemy.

The yacht slid into the harbor and glided to the dock. Two dockhands rushed to receive the tie lines and secured it to the dock. Doug and Capt. Scott were on the dock quickly moving toward Pedro—Luis the chef followed closely behind. Doug shook Pedro’s hand and turned him around explaining that they were in danger and had to hurry to the café. Pedro reacted without questioning, and all four men walked up the path to the café—trying to look normal.

Harry and C2 watched the reunion and were convinced the gold was on the yacht; but just as they were about to leave the shed, three unknown men rushed from the shrubbery and ran to the yacht.

Hatchet Jack had one foot on the ladder when he saw the unexpected action. “Who in the world are those men, and where did they come from?” he thought as he jumped back inside the plane.

Without a moment’s hesitation, two men ran below deck followed by a barrage of gunfire. Another man ran in and out the cabins above deck—soon to be joined by his two partners who nodded affirmative, indicating the crew below were dead. Now the Yakz controlled the yacht.

Doug had seen Hatchet Jack’s plane and watched him beginning to descend the ladder when the gunshots captured his attention. He saw men with rifles appear on deck from below and feared the probable.

Suddenly a shot rang out from the tool shed, and the man in the pilothouse of the yacht dropped. Each of the other two fell to gunshots as they tried to run from the deck—one shot apiece. “That has to be Harry behind that gun,” Doug said aloud; then his guess was confirmed. Harry rushed out of the shed, ran at full speed and leapt aboard the yacht, pistol and rifle in hand. C2 followed closely behind.

Harry checked the three dead men on deck and charged down the stairs. By the time he had found three more dead men, C2 had begun hotwiring the ignition of the yacht—he was proficient in stealing vehicles.

The engines started and Harry rushed to untie the ropes from the dock. The yacht was free to leave the dock as Harry leaped onto its deck. He dropped to a prone position, aiming at the café.

“Let’s do something,” Capt. Scott shouted. “They’re stealing my yacht.”

Doug had to grab hold of Capt. Scott to keep him inside the café. “There’s nothing we can to right now. Don’t worry; we can always buy you a new yacht. I haven’t told you, but we have plenty of money.” Doug was thinking of the diamonds.

Capt. Scott hardly heard a word Doug said. His eyes and mind were focused on his treasured yacht heading out to sea.

Doug watched Hatchet Jack descend the ladder and run toward the café. Doug opened the door preparing to meet him, but Jack pushed him back inside.

Jack shouted instructions to all the astonished café employees and everyone in the café. “Get down on the floor.”—He was well aware of Harry’s accuracy with a rifle. Just then, the front plate glass window shattered.

Everyone hit the floor except Doug and Hatchet Jack. Doug looked through a small window as his hand entered his pocket and wrapped around the detonator that he had promised not to use. His mind rushed through many possibilities. “When Harry discovers that the gold is not on the yacht, he will definitely head toward Saipan. His jungle experience will make him a living hell on earth for us.”

The yacht turned and sped toward open sea.

Doug had just witnessed the ultimate example of the pecking order of greed and knew it had to stop now. Needing to be alone, he left the café and walked a few steps outside.

Capt. Scott knew Doug’s thoughts and cringed in horror; and then he heard police sirens. A fragment of hope entered his mind, not knowing that Doug had just pressed the code activating the explosive detonator inside the yacht.

Ten to fifteen police cars converged on the scene about the time the yacht left the edge of the reef…someone had called them about the gunshots.

Doug looked over his shoulder at the pathetic image of Capt. Scott in the window and pressed the button. “Hasta luego, Craiger,” he said to himself, as a distant explosion lit the sky…then shook the dock.

Everybody, including the police, were stunned as the yacht disappeared beneath the ocean. Doug hurriedly ran into the café, gathering everyone at the door and ushering them outside. Grabbing Capt. Scott’s pistol and packsack containing the Orphans , he slid them under the table with his gun and the case carrying gold. He told Luis the chef to hide in the crowd and stay with Hatchet Jack—Luis recognized Jack from the time they loaded Orphans into his plane near Basar.

Doug tossed the detonator to Hatchet Jack and walked outside. A broad grin crossed Jack’s face as he realized the controller of the explosion. Jack laid his rifle on the floor under a table and joined the crowd outside.

“Take care of Pedro,” Doug shouted to Jack before he walked toward the police, guiding Capt. Scott by the arm. Speaking to the distraught Capt. Scott, Doug pushed him toward the police. “Tell them they forced us off the yacht and hijacked it.”

Capt. Scott didn’t need to act his part. He ran crying and blubbering to the head police officer; explaining, in totally irrational phrases, that armed men had pirated his multimillion-dollar yacht.

The police officers, trained mainly in automobile traffic control, ran helter-skelter from building to building rounding up anyone who appeared—bringing people together by force.

Doug stepped forward from the crowd, attempting to defuse the situation. “Can I talk to you alone?” he asked the Chief of Police.

Turning sideways, the Chief replied with a question, “What is going on here?”

“That man and I,” Doug began, pointing to Capt. Scott, “just arrived on an expensive yacht from New Guinea and were met on the dock by men with guns. They forced us into the café; boarded our yacht, and commandeered it. Apparently some of their explosives ignited and blew them up before they could escape.”

“If that is true, I need you two men to come with me to the police station. Is anyone else involved?”

“No, only us two. Our crew were killed on the yacht,” Doug answered, motioning for Capt. Scott to come closer.

“We have to go to the police station to file a report,” Doug tried to explain to the bewildered Scott.

The Chief of Police shouted in his megaphone, “Everyone is free to leave. Go back to your work now,” and the confused crowd dispersed.

Doug breathed a large sigh, thinking how grateful he was that these police were untrained for this type of emergency—police on the island could actually only handle traffic accidents…not murder.

Hatchet Jack returned to the café and found Pedro and explained to him that he worked with the Goodwin brothers. Pedro, still thoroughly confused, welcomed his assistance.

“Help me take care of everything Doug left behind; then we’ll go to my airplane and wait for him to return. He’ll be back soon.” They gathered the weapons and gold; and waited for all the police to leave. They saw Doug and Capt. Scott in the back seat of a police car as it pulled away from the area.

Luis cautiously approached Jack, explaining that he was the chef of the yacht—he still carried his Orphans.

Jack had completely forgotten the third man who left the yacht with Capt. Scott and Doug. “Come with us,” he said. “We need help with these heavy Orphans.” He placed the two pistols inside Capt. Scott’s packsack and pushed it to Pedro. With his rifle in one hand and the Orphans in the other, he led the way, running towards the “Cat”, with Luis and Pedro struggling behind him with their heavy loads.

Once inside the plane, Hatchet Jack closed the door and told Pedro to place the case on the floor behind the pilot’s seat. Luis did the same with his packsack and followed Jack to the cabin.

“Have a seat…what’s your name?” Jack asked while indicating for him to sit in the copilot’s seat.

“I’m Luis the chef.”

“Glad to know you. I’m Hatchet Jack the pilot—hellava way to get acquainted isn’t it?—you must be Pedro.”

“Yes, I am,” he replied.

“Make yourself comfortable in one of those seats. ‘Big O’ sent me to protect you…good thing he did. I’ll find out what we should do next.”

“Luis climbed into the co-pilot’s seat thinking, “I’m part of the team now,” and Pedro collapsed into a side seat, just wanting a few seconds of peace and quiet.

Jack turned to Pedro. “Who were those men…do you know?”

“I’m sure the first three were Yakz, but I don’t know the others.”

“Yakz?—the Mafia?”

“Yes, they have followed me for years, but I was sure they didn’t follow me to Guam.”

“Apparently they did. Excuse me, I have to make a call,” and Jack called ‘Big O’.

“You’ll never believe it,” Jack began talking as he heard the click.

“Slow down—what happened!” ‘Big O’ shouted.

“Wow, it’s hard to explain but here’s the skinny. The yacht arrived on schedule and Doug rushed with Capt. Scott and one crewman to meet Pedro near the café and went inside. Just as I began to leave the plane, three men—I had never seen—ran from the bushes and leaped aboard the yacht…shooting all the crewmen.”

“Whoa, slow down. Repeat!”

Harry caught his breath and repeated with a few more details. “Pedro thinks they were Yakz.”

“Were they with Harry?”

“Negative, Harry was still hiding inside a tool shed. Then…wow…I can hardly believe it,” then he paused, catching his breath.

“Hurry! What happened next,” ‘Big O’ shouted.

“Harry shot all three men on the yacht with some kind of a sniper rifle—only one shot per man.

“Doug and Capt. Scott and Pedro were safe then?”

“Affirmative, they stayed inside the café, but Harry and C2 ran to the yacht and pulled away before I could react…that high-powered rifle had me worried.”

“Did they get away?”

“Well it looked like they were well on their way when the crazy yacht exploded into a million pieces…sinking to the bottom of the sea…I can’t understand what happened.” Jack wanted to laugh out loud.

‘Big O’ exhaled a huge breath.

Bill, who had been listening, pushed his way to the ST. “Doug was okay then?”

“Affirmative, he and Capt. Scott have gone to the police station to fill out damage reports. They’re claiming a highjacking by unknown assailants. Pedro and Luis the chef are here in the ‘Cat’ with me.”

Bill continued, “Who were the first men to the yacht?”

“We may never know for sure, but Pedro thinks they’re Yakz.”

‘Big O’ then gave some instructions. “You’d better wait there. Did Doug see your plane?”

“He couldn’t miss it.”

“Well, he’ll get back to you for sure. Wait there for him then tell him to telephone me as soon as he arrives…he has my ST number. Before all this happened, I thought you’d better head back to the Philippines, but now hang on until I talk to Doug.”

“Affirmative. I’ll be in touch.”

‘Big O’ and Bill looked at each other in disbelief. Innocent men had been killed because of tainted gold and the pursuit of wealth. Both men knew they would never forget that fact even though their cause seemed just.

“Let’s break the news to Ken,” ‘Big O’ said—Ken was still inside the bunker.

As soon as Ken heard the news, his thoughts turned to the safety of the Infants. “I think we should transfer the Infants to the vault in my bank in Saipan right now. It is big enough and totally secure.”

‘Big O’ seemed to agree and began thinking of the transfer. “It’s only five miles over the ocean, and Ben’s boat is certainly safe. How do we get them from the shore to the bank?”

Ken explained his idea; “Bill and I can go on the boat to Smiley bay. I left Doug’s jeep there; so we can drive directly to the bank and lock them inside the vault.”

‘Big O’ thought for a few minutes before replying. “I can’t think of anything better…let’s do it.”

“Right now?” Bill asked.

“Why not?” ‘Big O’ commented. “Now seems like a good time; besides, we could use some fresh food over here.”

Ken went down the bunker and slid the chest to the doorway—it was still secured in the netting with the safety strap wrapped around it several times. The packsack, which contained some of the Infants, rested on top of the chest. Bill slid into the opening on his stomach and strained to pull the case.

“Here, Bill,” Ken said, passing the packsack to Bill. “Take the this first to lighten the load.” Bill brought it out of the bunker and handed it to ‘Big O’.

Together, Bill and Ken managed to pull the chest to the surface and carry it to Ken’s boat. ‘Big O’ placed the packsack inside the boat and assisted in placing the chest along side the packsack. They securely tied the chest to the boat with the packsack inside the heavy netting.

Bill and Ken pulled away from shore with ‘Big O’ shouting, “Good luck men…take it slow and easy.”

It was hard to avoid hitting the waves of the ocean forcefully, but Ken soon learned to adjust the speed in order to ride each wave as it raised to break. This allowed the boat to remain in contact with the water instead of the bow slapping down each time.

The five-mile trip seemed much longer. Bill hugged the Infants and Ken navigated the boat all the way. Finally, the waves diminished, and they knew that they had passed the reef and were over the sand bar. Keeping the boat close to shore, Ken steered to Smiley bay.

“There’s the jeep still on the shore.” Ken said, pointing straight ahead.

“That vehicle might look funny to some people, but it looks real good to me right now,” Bill responded with a happy voice.

“I know what you mean.”

Ken directed the boat to the shore until it touched sand; then both men stepped into the water and pulled the boat about three feet on the beach. Ken tied a rope around a tree stump while Bill kept one hand on the Infants.

Bringing the jeep to the boat nearly proved disastrous. It started sliding toward the water and stopped barely in time.

“Back that thing out of here,” Bill shouted. “We can carry the Infants to the road.”

Ken, with his heart still beating rapidly, put the jeep into reverse and spun sand until he parked on solid ground. He then joined Bill who handed him the packsack and waited for Ken to place it in the jeep and return to the boat. Then, they carried the case together and placed it next to the packsack.

Once in the jeep, Ken drove directly to the bank, which was closed for the day. He unlocked the bank door and disarmed the burglar alarm system. Carrying the Infants into a quiet, empty bank was a unique experience. “Follow me,” Ken said, as he went to the rear of the building and proceeded to open a huge walk-in safe.

The thick metal door swung open and the Infants were slid inside. The safe was large, but the inside floor space consisted of a narrow walkway between two rows of safety deposit boxes. Ken explained that only he could unlock the safe at this time. He had taken the responsibility from the bank manager and changed the combination because he thought they might use it for some of the Orphans.

The safe door swung shut and was locked securely. Ken set the alarm, and they left.

“Well, that’s a load off my mind,” Bill stated. “Take me to Joe Tens Grocery, so we can pick up some fresh chow before heading back to Tinian.”

The police continually asked Doug and Capt. Scott the same questions concerning the unusual episode at the dock. Their answers remained the same—they were highjacked and lost an extremely valuable yacht.

The dockmaster was also taken to the police station, but he was totally in the dark as to what had happened. He had clocked the yacht when it arrived and was preparing the paperwork when he heard shots from inside the yacht—he had not seen anyone enter the yacht but heard three more shots but didn’t see damage. He had seen two men run to the yacht, untie it and pull away from the dock at full throttle. His testimony gave no indication that a murder had been committed. “What about the explosion?”—Nobody knew anything about it except it was loud, and the yacht had sunk into the sea. In addition, the owner of the expensive yacht was beside himself in grief and anger—the only fact of which the police were certain.

“What do you want us to do?”

The interrogator, also the Chief of Police, was asking Doug what to do—how ironic—how absurd—but how fortunate for Doug and Capt. Scott.

“We only want a permit to salvage the possessions on our yacht before looters get to it,” Doug submitted.

The Police Chief scratched his head in deep thought. “I don’t think you need a permit. Do you have any papers?”

Capt. Scott barely had enough composure to pull his yacht title and registration from his wallet. “Here you are. It was my yacht from California, USA.”

The Chief took the papers and glanced through them and motioned to another police officer. “These men have my permission to salvage their boat that sank in the harbor. You supervise the salvage proceedings and report to me.”

That was all that Doug needed to hear. He arose to his feet and extended his hand toward the Chief, “We appreciate your help in this sad time of our life.”

The Chief responded by standing and shaking Doug’s hand. Capt. Scott followed Doug’s move.

Doug then had the nerve to ask for a ride to a hotel; which the Chief arranged. It was apparent that the Chief of Police didn’t want to trouble himself or his officers with any extra duty—“just let these crazy Americans clean up their own mess.”

Doug and Capt. Scott were given a ride to the Starlight Motel in the general direction of the seaport. They checked into a room and collapsed in the only two chairs.

Doug slid his chair near Capt. Scott and finally felt free to explain some comforting details to a man he had grown to respect. Pulling the folded paper from his pocket, he set it on the small table between them. “Jack I have good news for you—we’ll buy you another yacht…larger than the one you lost.” Then, he unfolded the paper containing eight diamonds. “We have thousands of these in that case we sent to Tinian with Bill and ‘Big O’ . Their value is about ten thousand dollars apiece.”

Capt. Scott reached to touch a diamond. “You have them for sure?”

“More than enough to purchase a fleet of yachts.”

“Will you do that for me?”

“Of course. We always cover expenses. Your loss is our expense.”

“That’s a relief. I worried that my insurance wouldn’t cover anything this far from home.”

“They don’t even need to hear of it. The reason I had to stop those men was because they knew our entire plan. They would have gone after ‘Big O’ in Saipan when they discovered that the gold had been removed from the yacht—they would have sunk her anyway.”

“I never imagined anything like this happening to me.”

“One day, you’ll be able to tell some exciting tales to your grandchildren from the deck of your new yacht.”

“I think I’d better get married and settle down; so I can have grandchildren.”

“Good idea. I need to call ‘Big O’ now. He’ll be worried about us,” Doug said after seeing a relieved expression finally come to Capt. Scott’ face. “I’ll go to the lobby and use the payphone…be right back.”

All three men, Bill, ‘Big O’ and Ken, sat surrounding the ST awaiting a call. At the first beep, Bill hit the button. “Yes, who is it?”

“Only me, Little Bro.”

“Doug, how are you?”

“No worries mate. Everything is in pretty good order…even though I’m not sure what went down.”

‘Big O’ interrupted Bill. This was his time—time to protect the team. “Doug, Pedro is positive the Yakz trailed him from the Philippines.”

“That would explain the actions of the men who got the jump on Harry.”

“We have to assume that it was them. What happened at the police station?”

“Thank goodness, these police are amateurs. They took our word for everything and even assigned an escort to help us salvage the yacht.”

‘Big O’ couldn’t help but let go with a hearty chuckle, looked at his two partners, took a large breath and began laying out a new plan of operation. “The Yakz are too powerful for us to mess with. We can’t allow them to discover our position here. What phone are you using?”

“A payphone in the motel lobby.”

“That’s reasonably safe, but we need to stick with our ST units for details. Get back to Jack and call from there…Don’t assume you are safe and not being followed. Even the taxi driver might be Yakz—take every precaution. Leave right now and change taxis three times. We await your call.”

Doug hung up the receiver without any response. His mind began rehearsing the past few hours. He had not seen any Japanese persons in the café…none inside or outside the police station, and none around the motel. In fact he had not seen any at or near the dock.

Doug decided to call Hatchet Jack before going back to his room; so Jack would be expecting them at the plane. “Hi Jack,” Doug said as Jack answered. “Capt. Scott and I will be leaving a motel in a few minutes to join you. We are taking a devious route to avoid being tailed.”

“We’ll be ready for you when you get hear.”

“Roger,” and Doug hung up.

Capt. Scott waited impatiently for Doug’s return to the room. Being alone, he mourned the loss of his three companions actually more than his yacht; although the yacht had been foremost in his mind. He stood as the key entered the door lock and met Doug entering the room. “What’s the news?”

“We’re still not out of the woods,” Doug began. “The Japanese Mafia is involved now. They must have followed Pedro.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means that we have to evade them and get to Hatchet Jack’s airplane.”

“What about the yacht?”

“I have a feeling that it will have to wait. It doesn’t seem to me that we can work in the area with the Yakz watching our every move—they could eventually track us to Saipan.”

“I hate the thoughts of leaving my men at the bottom of the sea.”

“I do too, but neither of us wants to join them. We have to leave right now.”

Capt. Scott became somber, almost to the point of depression, but managed to follow Doug outside.

“I need you to help me watch for a tail,” Doug explained. “We’ll have to be sure nobody is following us before we return to the dock.”

Capt. Scott reacted in a paranoid-like manner, looking behind and to the side continuously.

Doug hailed a taxi; and, after checking the driver, instructed him to go to the nearest shopping center. The driver was Chamorro, not Japanese, but could still be a paid informer.

As they passed through a green traffic signal, Doug instructed the driver to pull over and stop—a tactic often used by drug runners. The vehicles behind them had to continue forward. After all the vehicles had passed, Doug had the driver go to the first street and turn right. He was shocked to see a car, which had passed them, suddenly make a U-turn and head back. “Go right, then right again…stop here and wait,” he said. He left the taxi and walked to the corner. There, he watched for several minutes, but no vehicle came in their direction; so he returned to the taxi, knowing that they had been followed. He could never underestimate the extensive reach of the Yakz.

They drove to a shopping center, and the driver let them out at the main entrance. Doug paid the driver and led Capt. Scott through the main doors, stepping to one side and waiting. Both men watched and studied each pedestrian for several minutes; then walked through the shopping center to the rear parking area and hailed another taxi—following the same procedure again while traveling to a cluster of restaurants.

This time, they entered a Sizzler and walked through the restaurant, into the kitchen…to the startled surprise of the workers, and out the back alley. From there, they walked a half block to enter the rear door of another restaurant. Traversing through the restaurant, they caught a taxi at the front door and took a devious route toward the dock.

“This will do fine,” Doug told the driver about a block from the dock.

They waited for the taxi to leave then stepped into the shadows of bushes and waited for five minutes before walking to the dock. Doug pressed his GSC button to alert Hatchet Jack of his location…Jack signaled an answer.

Jack grabbed his binoculars and scanned the area in search of Doug. This had to be one of the longest days on earth—everything imaginable had happened within the last twenty-four hours.

“There they are,” Jack said, as he spotted two figures coming toward them. He beeped another signal to them and proceeded to open the side door of the plane.

Doug and Capt. Scott increased their speed to a rapid walk, reaching the dock, proceeding along the floating ramp, and then up the ladder to the plane.

Jack helped them inside and secured the door tightly.

“Are you guys okay?” he asked.

“We’re alright considering,” Capt. Scott managed to say.

Doug asked, “Did you get everything from the café?”

“Certainly,” came a reply from the never-failing Hatchet Jack. “No problems, but what do we do now?”

“Call ‘Big O’ right now,” Doug emphasized.

‘Big O’ once again answered his ST without waiting for a second signal. “Yes.”

“Doug here. We’re with Jack, Capt. Scott, Pedro and Luis the chef.”

“I want you out of there right now,” ‘Big O’ spoke with an urgency. “Has Jack refueled?”

Jack nodded yes. “Yes, he’s okay. Where should we go?”

“I want everyone here. Jack has the coordinates. Leave now…we’ll watch for you.”

“Roger, we’re on our way.”

Fortunately, Jack had prepared for a quick exit and had positioned the plane for an easy turn around. He instantly began flicking switches and checking his countdown list. The engines roared into action and “Cat” began to move.

“Get buckled up everyone. This is going to be a fast exit.”

They all scurried to find their seatbelts and locked them tightly. The big plane once again lumbered its way toward the Pacific Ocean.

Hatchet Jack came alive. His enthusiasm was contagious, as he shouted, “Up, up and away,” and the “Cat” broke the bonds of gravity and smoothly rose into the darkening sky.

Both Capt. Scott and Luis shared similar thoughts about the friends they were leaving behind in their ocean graves. It was truly a sad occasion for them. Capt. Scott thought, “Only a short time ago in Huntington Beach California we were all laughing with enthusiasm while planning for a new adventure in life. Now it has ended in disaster…Luckily, they don’t have wives and children…maybe the diamonds can help their parents.”

Doug had concerns of their future needs—also he wondered about the ten Orphans left on the yacht—they were worth about 650.000 bucks in US dollars

Anticipating the arrival of the “Cat”, Bill commented to ‘Big O’, “I wonder what the natives of this island think when they hear that noisy amphibious plane.”

‘Big O’ gave an obvious answer, “We chose this island because it is nearly unpopulated—only one area of houses on the entire island. It would be hard to land near Saipan without alerting everyone on the island.”

“Bill hardly listened to ‘Big O’. “I’ll be glad when Luis the chef arrives. Maybe we can eat some real food again.”

“Yes, I’m sure he’ll be thrilled to prepare a gourmet delight over a camp fire without pans.”

“I brought a fry pan.”

“That should delight him. Anyway, as soon as Doug gets here, we can take shifts and gradually get everything over to Saipan.”

Ken interrupted their light-hearted conversation with a serious tone. “What do you plan to do next? I’m worried about Yakz.”

‘Big O’ thought for a few seconds before answering. “While you two were on Saipan, I came up with a plan to present to everyone. I wanted to wait for Doug’s arrival, but I’ll bounce it off you guys for practice. I want to get Pedro out of the picture for his own safety; so Hatchet Jack can take him back to the Philippines and return the “Cat”. We need to upgrade our plane in order to increase our flight range because we should get the Orphans and Infants off the island—there are too many Japanese on Saipan now. They own two major hotels and have leased most of the beachfronts…Yakz has to be involved.

Ken interrupted, “That’s true…five years ago, there were only a few Japanese tourists; now there are hundreds.”

‘Big O’ continued his thoughts. “You’re right. Saipan is a good place for Yakz to blend in.”

“What can we use to transport Orphans four thousand miles to Hawaii then on to California?” Bill asked, with a negative tone.

“How about a Learjet?” ‘Big O’ stated boldly.

Bill jumped with sudden enthusiasm, “ Wow, I wasn’t thinking big enough.”

‘Big O’ turned toward Ken. “If you take a couple hundred thousand dollars worth of Infants to California, can you turn them into cash quickly?”

“I can borrow that amount with a signature, using Infants as collateral.”

“That’s what I hoped—that closes the final loop-hole in my plan.” ‘Big O’ stated triumphantly. “Ken, you need to fly out of here on commercial air to Los Angeles as soon as Jack arrives—I mean first thing in the morning, and arrange to lease a company jet that has a range of four thousand nautical miles. Jack can fly to the Philippines, leave the “Cat”; then take a direct flight to LA, pick up the jet and return to Saipan.”

“Can we keep Luis the chef with us?” Bill asked with genuine concern.

“Worried about your lost pounds?” ‘Big O’ joked, then ignoring Bill’s comment, “but seriously we need to be able to use major airports. The Infants need to leave Saipan first…going to San Diego first then to your house, Ken, in San Antonio del Mar. Nobody could know that they’re in Mexico, and one person can guard them easily.

Ken added, “Well, it is a guarded community; so there shouldn’t be any problems.”

“Ken, when you look for a jet plane, locate one with a good sized storage area. We need the Orphans to be out of site.”

“Here they come,” Bill exclaimed. “I think I hear the “Cat”.”

Everyone listened as a faint noise echoed through the stillness and developed into a distinct engine sound. ‘Big O’ signaled on his GSC and received a response. “It’s them alright. Jack will use the same coordinates as before…We should wait for him to land before going out in the boat to meet them.”

Ken remained with the Orphans while Bill and ‘Big O’ prepared to launch the boat. As they waited in the boat, the huge “Cat” passed overhead; and ‘Big O’ signaled for a landing.

As the plane landed on the island-side of breakwater, ‘Big O’ flashed a signal light, and Jack taxied the plane toward them. “I need a quick meeting with Hatchet Jack and Doug to explain our updated plans,” ‘Big O’ told Bill. “You can take Capt. Scott and Luis the chef to the island and return for Doug and me.”

‘Big O’ signaled his light again as the plane pulled within fifty feet, and Jack killed the engines.

Bill started the motor on the boat and took off toward the plane. He watched the door of the plane open and a ladder unroll. Watching Doug appear in the doorway, along with Capt. Scott, caused a good feeling in both Bill and ‘Big O’. They suddenly realized how deeply concerned they had been for their safety.

‘Big O’ grabbed the ladder and climbed into the plane, to be greeted with many handshakes. He began giving directions right away, “Capt. Scott and Luis the chef go with Bill first; we’ll wait for the next trip.”

As soon as they left the plane, ‘Big O’ turned and said, “Have a seat for a few minutes and I’ll explain our latest plans.”

He then proceeded to run through everything that he had just covered with Ken and Bill. Pedro was allowed to hear the plans.

After several minutes of conversation, he turned to Hatchet Jack. “Can you handle that?”

“You’d better believe it,” he quickly responded. “I’d like to get my hands on a Learjet again, but I don’t think their range will get us from Hawaii to Guam.”

“Well, then, what in the world can we use?”

“There’s a jet called a Challenger that can do it, but I believe that only a Learjet 36A can reach over three thousand nautical miles. I’ll have to check them out. That Challenger cruises at point eight-zero Mach speed.”

“What is that in lay-man terms?”

“Around six hundred miles per hour.”

“I thought about having Ken lease a jet, but I can see that you need to be there for the final decision. Call me before you leave the Philippines, I’ll update you.”

Bill returned to the plane after leaving Capt. Scott and Luis the chef on the beach with Ken.

As Bill entered the plane, Doug began speaking. “Your plan to lease a jet fits right into my idea of how we can recover the Orphans on the sunken yacht. As you know, there are over a half million dollars of gold inside, or somewhere close to, the sunken yacht…I know we have plenty, but that is still a fortune that can be used for some future project.”

“Get on with it my good man,” Bill chided.

“Okay, brace yourself; because I’m sure this idea will work.”

“Wait. I get the feeling we had better wrap up the Gold Buddha adventure first—before starting a new one,” Bill said with mixed emotions.

“You’ve got me all wrong. My idea is still part of the relocation phase of our project; it will be our final coup d'état with the Yakz and save the Orphans at the bottom of the sea at the same time.”

Bill commented to that statement. “I appreciate your humor; but seriously, the Yakz can’t be messed with.”

“Then we’ll do it seriously. We have to assume that someone is watching the site where the yacht disappeared. My plan will give them something to look at, but they will not see the real thing.”

‘Big O’ finally spoke. “What do you have in mind, Doug?”

“We can bring a jet to Guam under the pretext that we are movie producers making plans to shoot our film on the Mariana Islands. Capt. Scott has a brother-in-law, John, who can be our advisor—He produces HBO movies. Our front man, possibly Capt. Scott under disguise, comes to Guam in a large jet carrying crates and cases labeled photography. He meets with the governor to establish political cooperation and receives permission to shoot scenes for an upcoming movie. The photography cases will carry some equipment, but ultimately can be used to transport Orphans back to the States. The same is done in Saipan.”

“I like it!” Bill exclaimed, always excited about unique approaches to solving problems.

‘Big O’ also nodded in agreement; then he began filling in the gaps. “Doug, you and Capt. Scott have been seen in Guam and Saipan; so you will always need to be in disguise—the same applies to Bill on Saipan. I’m an unknown on both islands; so I can play a major role. I’d rather be the front man than get Capt. Scott involved any further.”

Doug agreed. “That sounds better to me. Bill and I can dye our hair and grow beards, while working in the background. I thought that we could scuba dive while others faked the filming.”—Bill smiled at that suggestion.

“It all has good possibilities. We’ll have to work out more of the details later; meanwhile Hatchet Jack and Pedro need to get out of here. Jack, call me on the ST when you arrive in the Philippines.”

‘Big O’ turned to Pedro and said, “I’m counting on you not telling anyone what you have heard.”

“No problem Mr. ‘Big O’. I’m the world’s best secret keeper,” Pedro answered.

“I know you are, Pedro, but we can’t be too careful,” ‘Big O’ emphasized and stood to leave. “We’ll keep all weapons and ammunition here with us…you don’t want to have to explain them to anyone, Jack.”

Jack agreed and began gathering guns; while Doug and Bill carried them to the boat.

“Don’t forget to call often,” ‘Big O’ reminded Jack.

“No problem,” was his reply.

Doug and Bill followed ‘Big O’ down the ladder, and they left for shore. Bill shook his head and commented. “We should discuss these plans when we are all together—now we have to go over them with Ken and Capt. Scott.”

“Not to mention Luis the chef,” Doug added with as a joke.

“Yes, Luis the chef.”

‘Big O’ interrupted their humor. “We won’t discuss any more details Capt. Scott or Luis the chef right now…only the three of us need to know everything. I’ll fill Ken in when we’re alone.”

“Maybe we should phase out Capt. Scott,” Bill suggested.

Doug was quick to add, “I’d like to but he needs to be with us until we can replace his yacht.”

‘Big O’ added, “He is part of our team now because of the risks he has taken. He could live at Ken’s Roserito beach house in Mexico and be our contact man through whom we coordinate the final steps of the operation. We’ll buy him a new yacht, and he can dock it at the Rosarito dock.”

Both Doug and Bill liked the suggestion and agreed to present it to Capt. Scott. They still had a hard time believing that they had untold wealth at their disposal.

Doug looked toward Hatchet Jack’s plane and visualized the new yacht they should buy for Capt. Scott—135-foot, triple deck—it wouldn’t replace his lost friends, but it would soften the blow.

Just then the “Cat’s” engines ignited into action, Bill glanced over his shoulder. “I’m actually sad to see that miserable hunk of bolts leave.” No comment came from his companions, and the “Cat” flew away.

“We have a lot to do yet tonight,” ‘Big O’ stated in a matter-of-fact tone. “Our main base of operation needs to be established in Saipan. We can use the hut leased by you,” he said, looking at Doug. “I want to check that bunker next to the hut. Bill, you stay with the Orphans and I’ll get everyone else to Saipan.”

“Okay with me,” Bill replied. “Just bring me some Luis the chef food tomorrow.”

Doug murmured under his breath, “This Luis business is starting to get to me.”

‘Big O’ began checking the boat for the trip to Saipan—the fuel and oil checked out but there was a shortage of one life preserver. “I’ll use the float cushion,” he said to himself, then directed the men where to sit in the boat and had them put on the preservers.

‘Big O’ took control of the boat and navigated it through the waves with much more experience than Ken—the speed and direction into the waves controlled the smoothness of the ride.

Ken directed ‘Big O’ around Saipan to Smiley bay and pointed out the jeep parked near the trees. Pulling the boat near the jeep, ‘Big O’ had Doug and Bill jump into the water and drag the bow onto the sand. This action allowed the others to leap onto dry sand.

Now came an interesting challenge: hauling five men and gear in a four-man jeep. “Squeeze in, men,” ‘Big O’ said with a slightly doubtful tone of voice. The crowded together and hung on tightly as Doug drove up the road toward Capital Hill and the hut he had rented many months before.

Capt. Scott and Luis the chef had never been on Saipan before; so, Doug pointed out a few sites of interest as they bounced along the rut-filled asphalt. “There’s suicide cliff,” he said, pointing to a two hundred-foot sheer-faced cliff. During World War II, after the US forces captured Saipan, hundreds of Japanese, including women and children, jumped to their death from that cliff. They were told that they would be tortured and mutilated by the US soldiers if they were taken prisoners. The people believed it so strongly that parents would throw their children over the cliff then jump themselves. American soldiers tried to stop it but were just too late to reach the scene.”

As they drove along the beach road, Doug pointed out remnants of war—a rusted Japanese tank, a cave used as a last stronghold by Japanese soldiers, and remnants of an American tank. “I talked with a Mr. Caudell, a former soldier living in Indiana, who fought in the battle here. He said that the smell of decaying human flesh was so strong he could smell it three miles out to sea. It was a terrible slaughter—something like two thousand Americans and twelve thousand Japanese. I’ll show you Death Valley some day…I nearly met my death there, too, not long ago.” Doug stopped speaking and stared straight ahead. Everyone in the jeep wondered what he meant but didn’t feel like asking.

The road turned away from the beach and climbed a steep incline. Several cars passed, including a busload of Japanese tourists. Upon seeing the tourists, Doug couldn’t help but say, “As you can see, the Japanese are reclaiming the island without firing a shot. Actually they took better care of the island than the native Chamorros…all these fields were once well-groomed gardens. Had they not declared war on America, this could have become a real paradise. We had to take control of the Northern Marianas in order to bomb the Japanese mainland—it was the ideal distance for B-29 bombers to fly regular bombing raids—and I mean regular…there were times when a B-29 left Tinian every few minutes. In fact, that is where the first atomic bomb was stored—the one for Hiroshima.”

The men listened intently, even though Ken and ‘Big O’ had heard it before. The story became alive as they drove in the open jeep with the warm ocean breeze in their faces.

Suddenly, the jeep made a sharp right turn down a white coral road leading into the jungle. The men clutched tightly any part of the jeep they could reach—the smooth asphalt road had ended and two miles of rut filled coral continued. They soon entered a clearing. “There’s home,” Doug exclaimed.

Squinting around the area, they saw only a corrugated hut and a concrete bunker. Luis the chef looked forward to the adventure—Capt. Scott wanted to go home—while Ken and ‘Big O’ were concentrating on the complicated business that lay ahead—Doug was happy everything was working out; he thought, “We’ll wrap this phase up soon and began using the wealth in a constructive way.”

‘Big O’ spoke up as the jeep came to a sudden stop. “Doug, you find a place for everyone to sleep…we can use the bunker…you, Ken, and I. Show Luis the chef the cooking area…I’m starved.” He looked back at Luis the chef and apologized, “It’s not a yacht’s galley but there is a stove and a frying pan.”

Luis responded in an up-beat manner. “Don’t worry about me…I can cook anywhere.”

“You’re the man,” Doug said enthusiastically, as he leaped from the jeep. “Come with me men.”

The only comfort-of-home in the hut was an electric light bulb hanging from a frayed cord. Doug turned on the light and directed each man to separate cots at one end of the hut. “That’s your bunk, isn’t it Ken?” Doug said, pointing to a cot along the wall.

“Yes, I have my gear there, but why don’t Capt. Scott and Luis the chef use these two cots?”—Meaning the cots at the far end.

Doug nodded in agreement and motioned toward the cots. “Luis take that one closest to the kitchen, and Capt. Scott you’ll be nestled in the corner. ‘Big O’ and I will use the bunker next door.” (They wanted to be separated; so they could discuss future plans in private.)

The men looked around for a couple minutes then sat down to rest. They had no luggage or even a change of clothes. Nearly everything they owned rested at the bottom of the ocean near Guam. Doug broke the silence, “I have extra clothes stored at a Mr. Arp’s house here on the island…we can check it out in the morning; then we can buy new things at Joe Ten’s—that’s the main store on the island. Luis, why don’t you check the food supply and we’ll stock up tomorrow…Ken has probably eaten everything anyway.”

Ken pushed Doug in fun and remarked, “No way buddy, I ate every day at the hotel buffet table.”

“Maybe you could whip up something to eat right now,” ‘Big O’ suggested to Luis the chef.

Luis began checking and pulling food from the cupboard without hesitation. He lit the propane stove and found a couple pans—eggs, hash browns, onions, cheese, hot sauce—the beginnings of an omelette.

‘Big O’ continued, in a tone of seriousness, “Our main concern right now is the Yakz mafia. We need to keep out of sight for now—the locals should see only Doug and Ken. Spies are everywhere in this part of the world, and three American strangers will be reported and possibly connected to the incident in Guam. Doug you and Ken take care of everything tomorrow, and we’ll lay low. I need to talk to Ken for a while about leaving tomorrow; so we’ll have a meeting while Luis the chef prepares some grub…I’m sorry, prepares some food.”

Luis the chef smiled at the joke and continued working while ‘Big O’, Ken and Doug left for the bunker. The only thing in the bunker resembling civilization was that electric light bulb hanging from a badly frayed cord. Piles of banana leaves, stacked on the dust covered concrete floor, waited to form a mattress. “Pull up a chair and sit on the floor,” Doug commented. “I don’t think millionaires should be treated this way.”

“In due time, my good man,” Ken stated in his authoritative voice, as he pulled on the light chain and moved across the room to arrange the banana leaves. “We’ll upgrade shortly.”

‘Big O’ added with concern, “Here’s what I’ve been thinking. I like your idea of faking the filming of a movie, Doug. We need to transfer the Orphans out of here as quickly as possible…the Yakz will stop at nothing to get their hands on them, and they must have members specifically assigned to gold recovery. I’m thinking that you and Ken had better take Capt. Scott to the U.S. and get things started. I’ve been wondering, did you get your passport off the yacht.”

Doug responded, “Oh yes, I always carry it in my leg pouch, and I had Capt. Scott do the same thing with his passport and yacht papers.”

“That’s good. I was worried about that. You said Capt. Scott has a brother-in-law in movie production?”

“Well, yes in a way. John is a writer and producer for HBO movies.”

“Have Capt. Scott get hold of him as soon as possible to see if he’s available. Offer him twenty-five thousand dollars to put together enough equipment to shoot a documentary movie.”

Ken calculated the time; “It’s 9 a.m. yesterday in New York right now.”

‘Big O’ turned to Ken and asked, “How do you feel about the idea, Ken?”

“I’m not sure that I understand what you are talking about.”

“That’s right you weren’t on the “Cat” when Doug presented a plan to get the Orphans out of here and recover those from the yacht at Guam—Bill and I agreed to the plan. We’ll hire Capt. Scott’s brother-in-law, John, to put together enough equipment to fake a movie production. Then, we can bring equipment to Saipan in a Land/Sea container—with lots of heavy crates. I’ll meet with the governors of Saipan and Guam and cross their palms with a few bucks and get all the permits we need to come and go at will. About the time they get used to seeing us, we’ll slip out of here with all the Orphan’s and Infants.”

“What about Hatchet Jack and me—I thought we were to lease a jet?” Ken asked.

‘Big O’ continued to clarify the plan, “That’s right…we’ll still need a long-range jet to get us out of here with the treasure—especially the Infants.”

Doug had been listening and silently making plans for himself. He finally spoke, “I think Capt. Scott and I had better leave with Ken, if John is available—meet him and get the equipment in a Sea/Land container.”

“Even if John isn’t available, you can get the same help from someone else, can’t you?” ‘Big O’ asked Doug.

Doug looked at ‘Big O’ and smiled, “I have a million contacts.”

“Maybe we do not need John,” Ken suggested.

“I don’t really need him, but it is always good to work with an unknown occasionally,” Doug added. “John can come to town—do his thing—and disappear back into the woodwork.”

“Okay, do we all agree with the plan to use John?” ‘Big O’ asked, and all nodded approval. “It’s time to eat. Let’s check on Luis the chef and explain our plan to Capt. Scott.”

They arose from their bed of banana leaves and walked back to the hut. Before approaching the doorway, the aroma of food reached their noses, causing them to inhale deeply—in unison.

“Luis the chef might be the best part of this adventure,” Doug commented.

“He and the Infants,” Ken reminded him, as they entered the hut.

It was amazing to see the table stacked with food. “How in the world did he make biscuits?” Doug said under his breath.

Doug and Ken walked directly to the food, but ‘Big O’ slipped to the far end of the hut and talked with Capt. Scott. Doug watched out of the corner of his eye as Capt. Scott nodded in the affirmative to each comment, as ‘Big O’ explained that he would pay off the sunken yacht and buy him a new one. Capt. Scott’s hand shot forward to shake and seal the agreement.

Handing his ST to Capt. Scott, ‘Big O’ said, “Call John right now to see if he can take this side-job—it’s about 11:30 a.m. yesterday in New York.”

Capt. Scott opened the ST, and ‘Big O’ clicked it on with the explanation of using the country code with John’s phone number. Capt. Scott punched in the numbers, and they both listened to the dialing sequence, the connection and ringing tone.

“Hello,” John answered.

“Hey, John this is Scott…how you doing?”

“Just fine, Scott. When are you coming to see us?”

“Maybe this fall—how’s the weather over your way?”

“Too warm in the city, but just perfect up north.”

“Hey John, I’m calling to offer you twenty-five grand for a weeks work. Are you busy right now?”

“I was…until this minute. For that kind of money, everything else can wait a week—what do you have in mind?”

“A friend of mine wants to shoot a documentary overseas, and needs someone who knows the film industry to ship him everything he needs.”

“I’d have to fly to LA…I have all the contacts I need there. What’s his budget?”

“Big enough to cover anything you come up with.”

“When do you want me to come?”

“I need about two days to get back to LA. I can pick you up at the airport and chauffeur you around…you know me; I like working around cameras.”

“That’s good. I can use a couple days to make a few arrangement with my work here.”

Capt. Scott then said, “Plan to meet me in three days at LAX…I’ll explain more then and pay cash over the barrel head.”

“You got it…good talking to you.”

“Send me an E-mail with your flight information…and your bank transfer numbers. I’ll send you front money.”

“Okay.”

“See ya later,” and they disconnected. “He’ll be perfect,” Capt. Scott said to ‘Big O’.

‘Big O’ explained again the need for many large crates full of heavy equipment; because they would be using them to transport the Orphans.

“I’m ready to eat,” Capt. Scott said as he looked up to see Doug and Ken chowing down on delicious food. He and ‘Big O’ moved to the table and joined their hungry partners.

After several minutes, ‘Big O’ took Ken aside from the others and spoke confidentially. “We need to inspect our Infants in order to evaluate their value. Do you have a jewelers glass?”

Ken answered, “I’ve been buying and selling jewelry for several years…ever since I began spending some of my time in Mexico. I can give you an accurate retail value of the Infants. I Know a jeweler on the island, Jon Welch…he’ll have a magnifying lens. I’ll get some jewelers tweezers from him too.”

“Will he loan them to you?”

“Yes…no question about it. I have some surgical gloves in the first-aid kit at the bank.”

‘Big O’ gave an affirmative nod. “Here’s the catch…if the Yakz ever trace us to Saipan, they’ll check all jewelers to see if they have information on an unusual amount of jewels. They have ways of getting information—sometimes with money—sometimes with torture. You have to deal with Welch in a way that he has no suspicions.”

“I’ll tell him a lady wants a loan from the bank and is using some jewelry as collateral. I need to check it before making the loan.”

“Will he want to get involved?”

“I don’t think so. He knows I’ve dealt in jewelry.”

‘Big O’ hesitated before handing the ST to Ken. “Okay, give him a call. I’d like to do it tonight. Will that make him suspicious?”

“Not on this island. Clocks have no use around here. If we’re awake, we are ready for business…this thing works on local calls?” Ken asked.

‘Big O’ smiled and responded, “It might seem local to you but it has to travel about a thousand miles—outer space and back.”

“I see what you mean,” Ken said while dialing.

Jon Welch answered, “Hello?”

“Hello Jon…this is Ken Apple…sorry to bother you so late.”

“No problem, Ken, Efie and are watching boxing on TV…it’s a replay, but we still get a kick out of it.”

“I’d like a small favor.”

“Anything I can do.”

“I need to borrow a jewelers glass for a while. A local wants to borrow some money from the bank and use jewelry for collateral.”

“I have one on the desk in front of me for working at home.”

“Could I use it until morning?”

“It’s here to use any time.”

“Thanks, friend... I’ll be over in a few minutes.”

They said goodbye, and Ken smiled at ‘Big O’. “We are in business.”

‘Big O’ walked back to the kitchen table and explained to Capt. Scott, “Doug, Ken and I have to go into town for a while; so get some rest. You have a big day tomorrow.”

Doug instinctively arose and followed ‘Big O’ and Ken out the doorway and to the jeep—not knowing their plan.

‘Big O’ explained, “We’re going to the bank to evaluate the Infants. You guys have to hand-carry a couple million dollars worth back to the States.”

Doug drove the jeep thinking, “That’s right…we need to pay off Capt. Scott’s yacht, lease photo equipment, pay Capt. Scott’s brother in law, lease a large jet, and get back here in two or three weeks.”

“Turn left here,” Ken directed. “We have to stop by Jon Welch’s house.”

Doug wasn’t acquainted with Jon but did as directed. While Ken walked up to Jon’s front door, ‘Big O’ explained their plans for the evening. They had looked at the diamonds but had never inspected them closely.

Ken returned to the jeep with a jeweler magnifying lens, tweezers, and calipers, and a small scale. “We might as well sort out the best ones while we are at it,” he said as he climbed into the jeep.