Echoes of The Past

  ~ Island – pacific ~

   

  The light revealed none other than his long trusted friend and partner; Ben. An evil smirk fed through Ben’s lips as he savoured the look of hurt, betrayal and raw fury on a helpless Stanley’s face.

  ‘You should be quite pleased with yourself, Stan.’ He stretched the word Stan out. ‘Caused me quite the hassle, trying to pin you down, figure out where you were headed next, what you were doing. That was quite a nice slip you gave my boys in Paris. I must say, you’re quite remarkable as a field operator. Better than I would’ve thought possible. You see, I never heard of how you did on missions, only that you made it out alive. Quite impressive I must say.’ He seemed genuinely impressed which only served to infuriate Stan all the more. Then Ben’s expression frowned.

  ‘To be entirely honest with you, I’m surprised you weren’t even a tiny bit suspicious when everything went so smoothly for you when it came to getting the engine on the Singing Pearl and departing. You see it was all rigged, I knew what you were doing, because you had told me, so I set teams of two in place at different points on the island’s coast to keep a look out for you in your high powered dinghy ready to capture you. The game was almost up though when she,’ he jerked his head in Adrianna’s direction, ‘spotted my watch with binoculars in Brisbane. Luckily you didn’t investigate.’

  Silence stretched out, only the sound of the waves slapping against the metal hull of the speed boat and the gulls cawing could be heard. Every single person in the dinghy was staring in disbelief and confusion between Stanley and Ben, unsure of what was going on but having the sense to keep quiet and stay out of it.

  ‘So now you have half the ship as well as me, surely not even you, Ben,’ he spat his name out with ferocious hate, ‘would be so cruel as to have us all executed.’ The other boats had been rounded up and tied to the back of the attack boats. One of them was now headed their way, getting ready to tow their vessel back inland as well. Ben laughed out loudly.

  ‘If that were the case they would all be dead by now. No, Smith has far better plans for these people. We have ample room in our complex prison; you’ve no need to worry. We need labour to build a type of… extension, one could say and you’ll provide that. Plus you’re not the only person of interest here; it’s not always all about you. His name’s Roger and he’s far more of a pain than you.’ Ben nodded curtly at the guards at his side, who nudged the speed boat closer to the dinghy. The other one trained his weapon on Stan, while Ben gave him instructions.

  ‘Stand up and come onto the speed boat Stan old chum. Now,’ though he seemed at ease, the intense alertness in his eyes gave him away. Reluctantly Stan stood up on shaky legs. He looked over at Adrianna who still looked like she’d just bumped into death itself, lips barely moved so it was hard to make out what she was saying.

  ‘It can’t be, but I … I know it is… he died though, how’s this possible?’ confused and powerless to do anything to comfort her, he could only watch as tears rolled down her cheeks.

  ‘Don’t you all worry,’ Ben said, addressing the remaining people, ‘your colleague here will be joining you very shortly. Enjoy the ride.’ Turning to his guard at the helm, he snapped a rapid order. ‘Get us out of here’.

  The boat spun on its axis sending a spray of salt water, soaking the survivors as a rope was fastened to the prow of their rescue boat and powered off back the way it’d come around the headland. Being towed behind the attack boat, they were led around the other side and once they rounded the rocky outcrop they saw that it was in fact a small islet which they’d just travelled around. The islet guarded the entrance to a relatively large bay, from the beach a long jetty stretched towards the centre. Sprawled right on the coast, concrete buildings rose up out of the jungle floor like unwelcome intruders, forming a hostile network of mankind’s work. To the left, tarmac could be seen running in a straight line; a runway. Slowly the attack boats pulled up alongside the jetty, where all the remaining survivors were marched off their vessels towards a long, low slung concrete building with a few barred windows at large intervals. Each and every one of the sixty surviving people was searched for weapons or tools to help them escape and then shoved into the building’s interior. It was cruel irony that they’d been shipwrecked on an island with ample means to be rescued only to end up prisoners. Adrianna was the last to go, just before the guard shoved her in, a voice commanded loudly.

  ‘STOP. Leave her with me.’

  ‘Yes general,’ the young voice responded shakily.

  ‘Turn around.’ Although spoken softly, the voice held a tone which brooked no argument.

  Shaking horribly, fearing what she was about to see, Adrianna turned around and stared, jaw dropping.

   

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