Scorpio's Lot (31 page)

‘Sit here!’ roared Charlie as the
passengers gathered into a semicircle.

Brigit and Tom were now seated on
deck. Burke and Martino remained defiantly in their chairs. An elderly woman
had collapsed through sheer terror and was being assisted by the chess player
with the deformity.

‘Leave her!’ shouted Charlie,
prompting the Jack Russell to growl in response.

Hysterical behaviour still
prevailed. Some of the women screamed following each blunt command. Children
now sobbed and the elderly continued to shake in panic. Two men in the space of
a minute had created a frightening scene.

Losing his balance in the attempt
to sit on deck, a man had fallen out of his chair and hit his head against a
flagpole. Blood poured from the side of his face as he reached for a
handkerchief to stop the flow. Someone passed a towel but was howled down by
Morgan.

‘Stop this! No more good Samaritan
acts,’ he yelled, looking around to make sure everybody obeyed his command. He
spotted the two defiant, uniformed policemen who had not attempted to sit on
deck. Charlie briefly informed Morgan of the situation at Peterswood.
Instructing Charlie to keep watch over the passengers, Morgan walked toward the
sergeant and his deputy.

‘My, my, if it’s not our friends
in blue,’ he sneered at the officers.

With no response from either
officer, Morgan continued with his mockery. He thrived on controlling the
moment, particularly when he had a captive audience at his command. His
objective now would be to ridicule and humiliate the men in blue for all to
see.

‘These deck chairs look too
comfortable for the constabulary. Are we resting ourselves following a busy
morning at the office?’

‘Leave these people alone, they
mean you no harm,’ said Burke.

‘Oh, and how do you propose to
exert your influence?’ he taunted. ‘Throw your weapons to one side now!’

‘We’re unarmed. You bastards took
our guns at the Peterswood farm!’

Ordering the two officers to
stand for a body search, Morgan could not locate any hidden surprises to
dispose of. He instructed them to resume their seats.

‘What’s the purpose to all this?
If you want something, then for Christ’s sake just spit it out!’ Burke said.

‘Touchy, aren’t we? I trust you
won’t spoil our onboard entertainment today. You do realise that failure to
comply with my orders will result in some form of retribution,’ Morgan said.

‘You’re a brave man with a gun in
your hand,’ said Martino aggressively.

Morgan continued with his
tormenting, sarcastic manner. ‘So it would appear we have a couple of party
poopers. You two are certainly gluttons for punishment. Are you deviates in
search of pain and cruelty, by some chance? I can arrange to have some bodily
part temporarily or permanently damaged if you wish.’

‘Go to hell!’ responded Martino.

‘If suffering is to your liking,
you’ve come to the right place. The show commences in five minutes.’ Morgan
ignored the constable’s comment.

‘You are one sick prick,’ said
Burke.

Without warning Morgan let fly
with the butt of his gun, collecting both Burke and Martino with two swift
downward lunges to the sides of their heads. Both officers slumped unconscious
in the deck chairs amidst screams coming from the passengers. Morgan then
produced some thin rope and immediately tied the men to their respective
chairs. Behind him, the passengers had formed a seated semi-circle amongst the
mayhem of upturned deck chairs and scattered personal belongings. They sat
wondering what was to follow this sudden outburst against the police.

In his smooth, educated, English
voice, Morgan turned to the passengers and commenced his instructions. ‘Now
listen to me very carefully. If you do as you’re told no harm will come to you.
Disobey my orders and I won’t hesitate to use this gun.’

Further screams followed his
blunt message.

‘If you happen to own a mobile
phone, would you please locate it with your left hand and throw it toward my
feet.’

The sound of fumbling hands
immediately followed and one by one a pile began to mount in front of Brad
Morgan. He waited patiently as they carried out his instruction. Three people
said their phones had been knocked away during his order to be seated.

Seeing Morgan distracted by this
sudden flood of mobiles, the foreign man with the orchestral hands decided to
place a call. He dialed the number and cautiously raised the phone to his ear,
desperate for the return voice to respond. He looked up to see Morgan and
Charlie had not seen his deception. In what seem to take eternity he finally
heard the sound of his recipient. In a whisper he started to convey his
message, but he had no sooner opened his mouth when a bullet penetrated the
skull between his eyes. He was killed instantly for his foolish act. The man
collapsed to deck amidst screams from the terrified group.

‘Does anyone else have similar
ideas?’ asked Morgan.

~ * ~

Endeavouring
to put this horrific display of cold-blooded murder to one side, I tried in
vain to identify these bastards hiding behind their balaclavas and navy-blue
overalls. These weren’t the two men I had seen earlier, for one was
considerably shorter. I looked around at my fellow passengers, trying
desperately to recall who could be missing from this lot. Perhaps the taller of
the two was Charlie or Mick, and if this were true, then we had a third
perpetrator in our midst. But who was this third person, and for that matter,
where the hell was the other tall desperado?

And then it hit me. The guy with
the impeccable clothes and seagoing hat being called Morgan by his accomplice
... yes, it must be him for he wasn’t seated in this semi-circle amongst his
fellow captives.

Nerves were now on razor edge as
we waited for our next directive. I looked across at Brigit, who appeared to be
in a state of shock following the execution. The sound of whimpering and crying
from both the women and children had surpassed the initial shock and disbelief.
What was to be gained by involving all these innocent people?

Foolishly the short stocky man
with the muttonchops and plaited ponytail stood up and remonstrated at the
treatment being handed out. He was ordered by Morgan to step forward. The
unemotional, heartless and smooth-talking Englishman asked his captive to explain
the sudden outburst, ridiculing the man in front of his fellow passengers.

‘Do you know what we do with
silly people like yourself?’

The passenger went silent now,
realising he had overstepped the boundary.

‘Cat got your tongue?’

Still the man chose to be quiet.

Morgan then gestured to the one
named Charlie. ‘Take this imbecile to the starboard side and maintain your hold
on him.’

The captive now shook in terror.

In his composed and yet
provocative style, Morgan turned to the group of seated passengers and
continued. ‘Please consider yourselves privileged in witnessing our little
demonstration today. Apologies for the absence of a plank and no last meal
request, but we simply do not have the time to pamper this individual.’

With no further ado Morgan leaned
forward and pushed the man overboard and then had the audacity to wipe his
hands clean upon his overalls. ‘I hope this little message has served its
purpose.’

Again pandemonium erupted on
deck. The sound of terrified screams and wailing was now at fever pitch. Burke
and Martino still lay unconscious on the deck chairs, oblivious to the
unfolding drama.

‘Would ya shut the fuck up, the
lot of ya!’ roared Charlie.

Finally, at what Morgan
considered to be an acceptable level of aggravating noise, he continued. ‘Now,
I want the one who calls herself Brigit O’Neill to step forward.’

Brigit clutched my hand as she
rose and stepped forward. I couldn’t help but think that no nineteen year old
should have to suffer this sort of torment. As she walked forward, the sound of
crying had recommenced from some of the women. This was sheer madness and
somehow I had to put a stop to it. I stood up and yelled out to the one who had
called for Brigit.

‘You can’t do this, you bloody
cowards. For Christ’s sake, she’s only a kid, you bastards.’

‘And what do you plan on doing
about it?’ came Morgan’s sarcastic response.

‘Take me instead,’ I offered.

‘Make that two of us,’
volunteered the man wearing the bandanna.

I was stunned that a complete
stranger would risk his own life. Not surprisingly, it had an equally
astonishing impact upon Morgan, who seemed to be caught out with this
unexpected act of heroism. The other man and I walked toward the captive Brigit
as the group to our rear remained in their seated positions.

‘That’s far enough. Not one step
further or I’ll shoot!’ Morgan threatened.

I thought the wiser of my actions
and decided to stop, but the guy to my left continued toward Brigit.

‘Stop right there,’ screamed
Morgan, showing emotion for the first time.

‘You bastards hide behind your
masks to abduct a kid. What sort of low scum are you two!’ roared back the
stranger. ‘Give me the girl now!’

He had progressed a further two
steps and was almost at arm’s reach when a switchblade thrown by Charlie caught
the stranger’s thigh. Clutching his left leg, the man felt the force of
multiple stabs delivered by a parang sheath knife into the back. He fell to his
knees in excruciating pain, blood running freely beneath him. Uncontrollable
screams erupted from the group behind. The stranger now squirmed in unrelenting
pain as he shook and wormed his way around the decking. His whole body had
become completely disoriented. In a gigantic muscle spasm, his arms and legs
shook and propelled in a dozen directions. The man’s nervous system resembled a
massive panic attack. The disturbing scene had not excluded the children from
full view, made worse by the continuous excruciating screams and incredible
outpour of blood upon the starboard deck.

‘Put him out of his misery,’
called Morgan, obviously unmoved.

Reaching for something that
resembled a baton, Charlie leaned over and with one downward thrust delivered a
severe blow to the man’s head.

‘You bastards, don’t you have an
ounce of decency!’ I shouted.

‘Get back with the others or you’ll
be next,’ growled Charlie.

Reluctantly I returned to the
semi-circle and took up my lotus position, vowing that while I remain alive the
return of Brigit would be my top priority. I took one last look at Brigit’s sad
face before she disappeared to portside. She was now in the hands of the enemy
with an unknown fate ahead. I felt sick at the sight of this thug taking her
away from view. In my depressed and emotional state I screamed out for the
entire world to hear.

‘I will find you, Brigit. Don’t
give up hope!’

~ * ~

Morgan
and Brigit descended a companion ladder, Morgan choosing to step down first. On
the stern deck he bound Brigit’s good arm behind her back and then with one
hand secured to her coat sleeve they commenced their walk toward the vacant
cars. Looking toward the coastline, Morgan could see the distant outline of
Pedley township. Probably some twenty minutes or so away, he thought.
Approaching the 4WD, he fumbled amongst the set of keys that Charlie had given
him earlier. The steel blue one would open the rear door, he recalled.

With Brigit seated in the rear of
the Land Cruiser and her arm still bound, Morgan retrieved a small bottle of
chloroform from the glove box and partially soaked a handkerchief. Opening the
rear side door, he swiftly turned around and pounced upon an unsuspecting
Brigit, covering her face with a wave of anesthetic fumes. He maintained his
hold for a few seconds and the effect was almost instantaneous. Brigit
collapsed and lay sprawled over the rear floor of the 4WD.