Tall, blond and no expressions. Like a bunch of first cousins."
Just like before, the boarding party shot anyone on the ship who looked like a soldier, as opposed to a sailor. In the case of the steamer, this was more than one hundred men.
"Just lined them up on the bow and shot 'em all," Pegg said. "One at a time .
. . but not before they looked into each guy's mouth. In fact, they yanked out a few teeth from a couple guys right then and there. Then they shot 'em."
The mysterious raiders then ordered the captain to move the steamer to a dockworks that had been built on the far edge of the waterway. Pegg said there were at least a dozen other ships there -all sizes, under different flags.
"It was a floating graveyard; they had all fallen for the same ruse." Pegg said. "Like a spider sucking a fly into its web, we sailed right into their trap."
Once docked, the steamer was searched thoroughly n«f less than five times.
"They didn't care about the rubber," Pegg reported. "They were looking for only one thing . . . gold.
"They didn't find any, although they were convinced we had some on us. They tortured the captain until he finally died. Then they gathered up what was left of us -about fifteen in all -and started prowling around in our mouths, just like they did to the Filipinos they shot. It wasn't until they came to me that I realized what they were doing. If you can believe it, they were looking for gold fillings!
"When they got to poor Goldie, they yanked his mouth empty. Then they just threw him overboard, shot him and watched him die."
Why Pegg wasn't shot then and there, he never found out. Instead the strange troops locked him and a few of the surviving steamer mates in a makeshift jailshack.
"We was there for two days and nights," the captain said. "No food. No water.
Nothing. Like they had just abandoned us.
"Then, on the third night, we heard a bunch of explosions. Suddenly there's a hell of a gunfight going on right outside our shack. It went on for more than an hour. We heard mortars, big fifties, rocket-propelled grenades. Choppers flying overhead. People yelling over loudspeakers. Strange music blaring until it split your eardrums. It was incredible!
"Then, something-I think it was an RPG -hit our building. Blew the side right off it. Killed three Filipino fellows, the poor bastards. Me and the others didn't hang around to cry. We just lit out into the jungle.
"I'm an old man and still I've never run that fast in my life . . ."
Chapter 4
The bottle of Hong Kong brandy was gone by the time Pegg had nearly finished his tale.
Jones had told Hunter that Pegg, being an old salt and all, might be prone to exaggeration. Yet the pilot knew that despite the story's fantastic flourishes, there had to be a kernel of truth underneath.
"I haven't got to the good part yet!" Pegg said, relighting his pipe for the umpteenth time.
Hunter shifted around in his .chair and said: "So tell me. What happened next?"
Pegg gave out a hoot, then a long, raspy cough. "I crawled through that jungle all night," he said. "I saw lots of soldiers running around. These guys in black, plus other guys in green jungle camouflage outfits. Choppers everywhere. They were shooting at each other and here I am, a man my age, clambering around in the bushes in the middle of them.
"Morning came and I had made my way a good piece down the side of the waterway. I could see the east side locks and of course, they had these blondhaired goons crawling all over them.
"I spent the whole day just watching them. They had a bunch of skin-divers working for them and it seemed like they were planting things in the middle of the channel . . ."
"Things?" Hunter asked. "What kind of things?"
Pegg shrugged. "Long silver tubes," he said, closing his eyes in an effort to remember. "Flashing lights on them.
You should have seen the contraption they was carrying them in. It looked like a big gray box on a piece of toast. They had it fitted out like an
Glimpses of Louisa (v2.1)