Jinnie’s Story, Book Seven – Chapter Thirty

Tunisia

WorthingGooner, Going Postal

Jinnie had been busier at the weekend than she had anticipated. Knowing she was going to be away from Monday, and not really knowing for how long, she had tried to spend as much time as possible with the twins. They had swum, gone to the cinema, and visited a petting farm – the smell of which she was sure still lingered. She had even taken them out for Saturday lunch at a Toby Inn, where they had piled their plates so high she was convinced they couldn’t possibly finish it all. But they did, and then had vanilla ice cream with chocolate sauce and a Flake.

She had told them she was going away for work and might be gone for a week, though it could be longer. When she said goodbye to them at the school gates on Monday morning, she had made them promise to be extra good for Izzy while she was away and reminded them that Larry would be watching them for her. On the way from school, to pick up her sister before driving to Heathrow, she wondered if Larry would indeed keep an eye on them. She decided it was true. He had recently taken to joining them for bedtime stories and seemed to listen intently. He was a remarkable cat.

Penny and Irena were waiting to be picked up and were on the pavement almost as soon as the Lexus came to a halt behind Penny’s car. Throwing their holdalls into the boot next to Jinnie’s, Penny jumped into the front passenger seat and Irena into the back. Then they were off to pick up the motorway at South Mimms.

Penny asked, “How were the twins?”

Jinnie replied, “They didn’t seem worried that their mum was going away. They were more interested in the fact they were having a dance class this afternoon. Gosh, I remember doing English country dancing with Miss Manson and Mrs Salmon playing the piano very badly.”

“It was the same for me,” said Penny. “I wonder if they’ll be doing the ‘Sir Roger de Coverley.’”

“I don’t think so,” replied Jinnie. “According to Willie, Miss Evans is into 60s pop and disco.”

From the back, Irena said, “Willie and I went dancing in a club in London. The music was awful, and the drinks were expensive. I doubt the twins will have that problem, but I think their teacher is either very brave or very foolish trying to teach ones so little to dance.”

Jinnie asked, “Speaking of Big Willie, how did you two get on?”

“Quite well,” came the reply from the back seat. “We’ve arranged for him to come and stay in Slovenia in the summer.”

Penny snorted and said, “Quite well? You two were inseparable after a couple of days. I hope you’re going to invite us to the wedding.”

Jinnie saw Irena in the rear-view mirror, and she was blushing.

Jinnie parked in a long-term car park that had been pre-arranged by the ‘firm’ and caught a shuttle bus to Terminal Three, where many European flights now departed from. They presented themselves at check-in. Irena’s Slovenian passport initially raised a few eyebrows, but as soon as it was scanned, the attitude changed. All three were quickly upgraded to Business Class and directed to the appropriate lounge.

Business Class was called first for boarding, and as the three agents settled into their seats, the Cabin Manager whispered to them, “Welcome on board, ladies. I understand that when we land in Catania, we’ll be deplaning you before any other passengers, as you’re being met. I can only guess as to why we’ve had this request from the Italian authorities. Seeing the status of your upgrades, I have an inkling, so all I can say is best of luck. The Captain and I are the only ones on board who know.”

Jinnie accepted her pre-take-off glass of Bucks Fizz and sipped it, pondering how many people knew three SIS agents were on the flight to Catania and whether it put the mission in jeopardy. At check-in, the girl had said, “Good morning, Dame Jinnie. We’ve been expecting your party.” Clearly, the whole row of ground check-in agents had been briefed. Virgin used a marker against passport numbers, and the system processed the upgrade automatically without people needing to know. She was going to have to speak to Alan about security when they got back.

Penny nudged Jinnie and said, “I see we get a late breakfast on this flight. Apparently, if we’d been due to take off a few minutes later, we’d have got lunch. I think I prefer airline breakfasts, but it’s only us in Business who get a cooked one. In Economy, they get a ‘breakfast wrap.’ Is that someone singing?”

Jinnie said, “I agree. I don’t particularly like the ‘chicken or beef’ meals on these short-haul flights.”

The plane taxied out to the runway, held for a moment, and then roared down the tarmac, climbing away over Windsor.

***

Just before the ‘Seat Belts’ signs were illuminated for landing, the Cabin Manager said, “Ladies, as usual, the Seat Belts sign will stay on until we are at the terminal. I will escort you to the cabin door, where you will be met and taken to your transport. Your hold baggage will be dealt with; you don’t need to collect it.” As the plane taxied to a halt, the Seat Belts sign remained on, and an announcement was made asking passengers to please stay seated for a few moments while a medical emergency was dealt with.

The party were led down the emergency steps at the head of the airbridge and into a military ambulance, which quickly set off across the tarmac and into an ITA hangar, where a car was waiting for them, hidden from prying eyes. Three other women got into the ambulance, and it sped off with its blue lights flashing and siren blaring. The driver attempted to explain in broken English that it would go to the military hospital and that they would wait for the luggage. Jinnie chuckled and replied in her fluent Italian that they all spoke Italian.

Ten minutes later, a truck laden with the flight’s hold baggage arrived, and their holdalls were offloaded and placed in the car’s boot. The car then took them to a nondescript warehouse in the port, which, once they were inside and the door was shut, revealed itself to be a Special Forces base. The ladies were taken to a meeting room, where they were greeted by an Italian Special Forces Colonel and issued with Special Forces camouflage uniforms. Jinnie was intrigued to discover they were all Majors, and the name tags identified them as Majors Mustard, Scarlet, and Lavender. Jinnie giggled and said, “Someone is a Cluedo fan.”

Jinnie was Major Lavender and found the uniform to be a perfect fit; someone had transmitted her sizes to the Italians. The Colonel explained that they would be taken overnight to Tunisia on a high-speed air-sea rescue launch. The original plan had been to transport them in a US submarine, but it had been moved to the eastern end of the Mediterranean because of the tensions between Germany and Russia. As they had been told previously, Special Forces were already in place, had located the exact beaches from which the boats were being launched, and had constructed hides and a hidden camp well away from the hides. Their spotters were already in position, had helped in setting up the camp, and confirmed that the hides were well positioned with excellent views over the launch beaches.

Jinnie asked if the special ammunition and their sniper weapons had arrived. The Colonel confirmed that their weapons had arrived from the UK a few days ago and had been delivered to the Special Forces with one of the regular resupply runs. The explosive ammunition had arrived from America yesterday and would travel with them that night.

***

The Italian launch headed for the green flashing light and edged onto the sandy beach. Jinnie was helped into the arms of a burly Italian soldier, who carried her a few paces onto dry sand and set her down without getting her feet wet. She was quickly joined by Irena, then Penny, and finally by about two dozen boxes and crates. Jinnie thought, That can’t all be ammunition, before remembering what the Colonel had said about regular resupply.

The sound of engines broke the silence as the Italian boat, now lighter and free of the sand, backed off the beach. At the same time, a line of beach buggies with small trailers appeared, and the boxes and crates were speedily loaded. Jinnie was told to climb into the back seat of one buggy, which soon sped off the beach and into the sand dunes that backed it. Jinnie asked the driver, “What about the tracks in the sand?” The driver replied, “The tide is coming in and will hide most of them. Besides, the locals race buggies and sand yachts here during the day, so nobody will notice.”

The driver found a track and followed it to a paved road. The convoy accelerated down the deserted road for fifteen minutes or so before turning off onto another track that led into the hills and to an old stone farmhouse. The buggies were quickly unloaded, with the cargo disappearing into the house and the buggies into the dilapidated collection of outbuildings. Externally, the farmhouse looked abandoned and in a state of disrepair, but internally, the group of Special Forces had made themselves comfortable and patched up the building so that it still appeared deserted.

Jinnie quickly learned that the house was protected by hidden guards they had driven past without her noticing a thing. The snipers were informed that the boats were normally launched at first light, but it was already too late for them to be in position for that morning’s launch. Instead, they were advised to get some sleep, check their weapons, and be taken to their respective hides in the evening, ready for the early morning launch. Apparently, the people smugglers had a routine: the illegals were delivered to the beaches by truck at around four a.m., with the inflatables arriving shortly before first light. The boats were then loaded and departed as the sun came up.

Penny asked how many boats went out each night and was told it varied considerably. It depended on how many passages they had sold. Some nights it was none, while on others there had been up to eight. It also depended on what size boats were available; it might be one large one or three smaller ones. The girls were given breakfast and noted that rations didn’t seem to be in short supply. They were shown to a room that was to serve as their sleeping accommodation and found their gun cases waiting for them.

Having checked and cleaned their rifles, the girls got their heads down just as the first rays of sunlight were peeping over the horizon. Irena said, “I’m not used to going to bed at this time,” and Penny laughed, saying, “Except when you’ve been out for the evening with Willie.”

***

Jinnie woke and looked at her Italian army-issue watch, which indicated it was 15:43. The others were still sleeping, and not wanting to disturb them, she quietly got out of bed. Dressed in her Major Lavender uniform, she went in search of food and drink. In the kitchen, she was offered coffee, which was surprisingly drinkable, along with cold meat, bread, and cheese. She had just taken a second cup of coffee when her spotter entered the room and greeted her. He too had just woken and explained that he had been there for a little over a week and was now used to sleeping during the day and spending the night in their hide.

A pair of beach buggies dropped Jinnie and her spotter off on a hill a good distance from the beach. She looked for the hide in the bright moonlight but saw absolutely nothing. It was only when the spotter led her to it that she finally saw it, even knowing it was there. Once inside, she was certain it would be almost impossible to detect unless someone stumbled upon it by accident. She laid out her waterproof groundsheet, set up her rifle, and scoped out the beach below, about a mile away. The spotter pointed out the track the people smugglers used to bring people and boats onto the beach. The launches invariably occurred in front of the track.

Jinnie asked the distance, and Luka said, “1,803 metres. I know you can shoot accurately that far—I’ve seen it.”

“How about lookouts?” Jinnie asked.

“They’ve never come near us the whole time I’ve been here,” Luka replied. “They have posts about 750 metres from the launch site and are lazy. They sit at their posts smoking or making coffee on little stoves. They don’t patrol and have no idea we’ve been watching them. They turn up an hour or so before the first illegals, check the beach is clear, then stroll off to their guard posts, usually along paths and tracks. They never move away until they get a phone message saying the boats have all gone. I think they’re there to guard against locals stumbling on the operation and to act as a tripwire in case the Tunisian authorities turn up.”

“Not very effective, then,” said Jinnie. “Do you think they’ll react when we start shooting?”

“Only by withdrawing,” Luka replied. “They’re poorly trained, poorly led, poorly paid, and have no stomach for a fight. They’ll be back on their minibuses in an instant.”

Looking at the sea, Jinnie said, “It’s pretty calm tonight. Hardly any breeze, clear sky, plenty of moonlight. I guess it’s ideal conditions.”

“Yes,” replied Luka. “If they’ve got the numbers, they’ll come tonight.”

Jinnie settled down to wait. She and Luka took turns on stag—an hour on, an hour off. Just after 3 a.m., Jinnie saw headlights and then heard engines. She nudged Luka, who was immediately alert, and said, “It looks like we’re on.”

Jinnie watched through her night scope as men climbed off two buses, stretching almost universally. Two disappeared into the sand dunes, presumably to relieve themselves, and quickly returned. Jinnie counted 18 passengers and two drivers.

The passengers paired off and trudged in different directions, their torches making them easy to track. When they reached their posts, the torches went out, but the occasional flash of a lighter and the subsequent glow of cigarettes revealed their positions. Luka chuckled when the first camping stove lit up and said, “See what I mean? They’re useless. They all have AK-47s, but I bet they’ve never fired one. If they have, they probably couldn’t shoot straight. While they’re having a hot drink, I’ll have coffee.” He produced a large vacuum flask.

The coffee was black, strong, and hot. Jinnie was ready for it. Sipping from the paper cup Luka had produced, she kept scanning the lookout posts and the track to the beach. Luka whispered, “The illegals won’t arrive before 4, and the drivers will divide them into parties depending on the size of the boats this morning.” The pair settled back to watch for developments.

It was past 4 a.m. when Luka said, “Here they come. I hear the engines.” Jinnie strained her ears and caught the faint growl of trucks. A couple of minutes later, headlights appeared on the track to the beach. Luka said, “Three trucks—that’s a lot of money we’re going to cost them today.”

The trucks pulled up alongside the minibuses, their cab lights popping on as the doors opened and two men dropped out of each. Along with the minibus drivers, they encouraged the illegals off the trucks and onto the sand.

Once the trucks were empty, the illegals were divided into three groups: two large and one small. “That’ll be two big boats, probably 60 or 70 people with twin outboards, and a small group with a single outboard boat,” said Luka. The illegals were encouraged to sit on the sand and wait quietly.

Jinnie asked, “What do they do while waiting for the boats?”

“Not much,” Luka replied. “They often get given water, and some head into the dunes to relieve themselves. Mostly, they just sit and wait. Sunrise is about 5:20, so they’ll want them pushing out by then. The truck with the boats usually arrives about 30 minutes before sunrise—let’s say 4:50. That gives them time to attach and fuel the outboards, get the boats in the water, and load them before the sun comes up. Someone gets a free passage in exchange for steering the boat. They’re usually given a compass and a heading, but the island isn’t far. They’ll probably see it from miles away on a clear day.”

Luka was right. The smugglers ran their operation to a timetable. Jinnie wondered why they were so predictable. Luka said, “I asked the same question. It seems they’ve been doing it for so long they’ve got sloppy. They just don’t expect anyone to challenge them. I suspect the local police have been paid off.”

Just after 4:50, another truck arrived. Two large and one small boat were carried to the water’s edge. The outboards followed, were attached, and the first large boat was pushed out into the water. While one group of illegals was urged to their feet, the other two boats were placed in the water.

Luka whispered the range to the nearest inflatable and noted the lack of wind. Jinnie checked everything, squeezed the trigger, and waited. The bow of the first boat exploded. Without hesitation, Luka gave her the range to the second boat, which met the same fate. Finally, the third boat’s bow exploded as well.

The scene on the beach was chaotic, with illegals running in all directions or lying flat in the sand. Jinnie turned her attention back to the first boat, now sinking from the bow. She fired an explosive round into the nearest outboard. Before she could target the second, the burning fuel set it alight. She swung to an outboard on the second boat, fired again, and sent engine parts flying. The last round in her magazine destroyed the other outboard. Reloading swiftly, Jinnie targeted the single outboard on the third boat and destroyed it.

Jinnie swung her rifle towards the truck that had brought the boats, but Luka whispered, “No. Let’s not push it. We’ve destroyed three boats and stopped about 200 people crossing. They have no idea what’s happened. The guards have been focused on the boats. Even if they’d been looking our way, they wouldn’t have seen the gun flash—it’s too suppressed and too far away. I’ve also heard explosions in the distance, so I’d guess the others have been busy.”

Jinnie settled back into the hide to watch the beach. The inflatables and outboards were wrecked beyond repair, but the gang tried to organise the illegals to drag them out of the sea and load them onto the truck. After some discussion, the illegals were reloaded onto their trucks. A convoy of trucks and minibuses struggled back up the track through the dunes.

Watching them leave, Jinnie said, “What a pity we can’t follow them.”

“I think we probably are,” said Luka. “There should be a heli-drone up there.”

***

Penny was already back in the kitchen of the farmhouse when Jinnie and Luka walked in. She had a mug of coffee and was eating what Jinnie assumed were Italian combat rations. Jinnie asked, “What the hell is that mess you’re eating?”

“It’s the Italian equivalent of an MRE dinner,” answered Penny. “It’s some sort of pasta and beans that you pour boiling water over. You heat a can of chicken pieces in the hot water before putting it in a mess tin with the pasta. There are coffee granules and sugar, but no milk. Oh, and a fruit cereal bar for dessert.”

“It looks awful,” said Jinnie.

“It tastes a lot better than it looks,” replied Penny. “You’d better get used to it, as that’s all we have for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.”

Jinnie heard Luka laughing before he said, “I’ve tried all sorts of combat rations on exercises. The American ones aren’t to my taste. These are very much to the Italian taste—some even come with a shot of fruit brandy, and most have pasta or minestrone. I quite like some of your British ones. You have lots of variety—about 20 menus—and some are much better than others. Some of the French ones are good too; they have duck pâté and crackers in one. The Australian ones are very similar to the American ones. I tried some Chinese rations once, and they were the worst of all—just rice and a few vegetables.”

Jinnie said, “Well, I suppose I’d better try at some point.” From an open case of meals, she picked up a pack and said, “This is Menu F, and dinner is minestrone and tinned beef. I doubt it’s Trattoria Trevi standard, but I’ll give it a go.”

Luka hunted out a Menu B and said, “This one has alcoholic cordial for breakfast instead of a bar of chocolate.”

Penny replied, “I’m not sure which is odder for breakfast—chocolate or alcoholic cordial. I never thought I’d say this, but I prefer the British omelette and pork sausages. At least that’s a normal breakfast. Anyway, Sis, tell me how you got on.”

Before Jinnie could answer, Irena arrived, grinning from ear to ear, and said, “I enjoyed that! I took out a huge 100-person inflatable, and now I’m hungry. What’s for dinner?”

Irena looked blank as the others all laughed.

***

Jinnie slept well and had finished her ration pack breakfast, which included biscuits, strawberry jam, pre-sweetened tea, cappuccino mix, and a bar of chocolate. She looked for milk, but there wasn’t any, so it was sweet black tea—which wasn’t wonderful.

The Captain from the GOI, who was officially running the operation, approached Jinnie and Penny—Irena was still asleep—and said, “Ladies, it’s good news. For the first time in weeks, not a single boat landed on Lampedusa. The drone followed the trucks back to their assembly point, and they’ve set up a tented camp for the illegals and a large barn for the gang. Command suggests that we send a team in tomorrow, while the gang is busy on the beach, to bug the barn.”

“I like that,” replied Jinnie. “We can hear them planning and won’t waste time in the hides on nights when they have no illegals to send.”

***

After dark, the buggies set off once more to deliver the snipers and spotters to the hides. As on the previous night, they were dropped some way from the hide and made their final approach on foot, careful not to leave a trail. Once again, Jinnie and Luka settled down to wait for the gang to arrive. Just as before, the guards arrived first but seemed a little more alert. Jinnie wondered if they had been instructed to keep a better watch. Then the illegals arrived, followed by three large boats. Luka whispered, “There are either more illegals tonight, or they’re short of a smaller boat to use.”

Once again, Jinnie took out all three boats and then their outboards, before sinking back into the hide. Luka said, “Someone down there has night glasses and is scanning to try to find out who is attacking them. But he’s not looking here; he only seems to be scanning within the protected zone.”

Jinnie replied, “They don’t know I could be even further away and still hit those boats; they’re a massive target.”

As on the previous morning, the illegals were loaded back onto the truck, and the convoy departed.

Ten minutes later, Luka, who was still watching the beach, said, “There are still half a dozen men in the dunes.”

Jinnie used the rifle’s night sight, and upon finding the group, said, “I think they’re illegals; they’re not armed. I suspect they’ve given up on the idea of being smuggled to Europe.”

As they watched, a man raised his head, and seeing an empty beach, got onto his knees for a better view. He eventually stood and called his companions to their feet before they all set off along the beach, walking at the water’s edge so the sea wiped out their footprints.

Jinnie and Luka waited until the group had disappeared from sight around a headland before calling in their transport.

In Chapter 31 – Aunty JoJo’s Canada opens
 

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