Mayhem

Introduction

During a vacation off the West coast of Africa, an ex Royal Marine Commando has a surprise re-union with a former colleague, completely out of the blue.

At this time their lives seem organised and their futures well planned.

One is about to become the proprietor of an English pub. The other has recently resigned his commission in the Marines, to become a civilian security company chief.

But when fate lends a hand, aided by some crazy thinking, life doesn’t always go according to plan.

These two tough characters eventually team up, intending to become owners of an island paradise scuba diving business.

Through no fault of their own, they become embroiled in the operations of a South American drug cartel, but not before a brush with skullduggery and murder in the Canary Islands.

This is an, exciting, nail biting and often violent thriller, which will keep you on the edge of your seat from the word go.

In Mike Rollin’s usual style you’ll become a part of this fast moving tale, as they move from London, to Las Palmas, through the Caribbean, and then finally ending up in The Bahamian Islands.

A waterfront bar at Ft. Lauderdale Florida

“I’ve got terrific heart burn,” Brian said clutching his chest, as they sat at the bar watching a number of people sitting in the hot tub across the patio.

“I’ll just nip back to the boat and get a tablet, won’t be long,” he said, climbing off the barstool, and heading for the exit.

He walked back along the street and onto the dock, accompanied by the sounds of nighttime crickets. As he approached the boat, he had to step on the mooring rope to bring her closer to the dock, which he didn’t remember having to, when he got off earlier. But then Dan was last off, maybe he let her out a bit further, what the hell maybe the tide’s up a bit, he thought as he stumble over his own feet.

“Whoops must have had more than I thought,” he said aloud, as he fell up against the bulkhead in the cockpit.

Eventually he found the antacid pills, swallowed two, and was in the cockpit closing the hatch, when he heard the unmistakable click from the firing mechanism of an automatic weapon, just inches from his left ear. A voice spoke calmly with a strong South American accent

“Stay exactly where you are, do not turn round, don’t move a muscle, I have a silenced weapon aimed at your head. Now, one at a time, put your hands on the top of your head, one silly move will be your last.

Brian felt a metal bracelet snap around his left wrist, anticipating that his assailant would go for his free hand, he spun to his left striking at the spot where he expected the other man to be, but hit only space. He felt the pressure as his left hand was dragged by the bracelet, then a fist drove into his solar plexus whereupon he doubled and fell to his knees. This time the gun was poked forcibly into his ear.

“You obviously don’t hear too good.” he saw the shape of a hooded figure in front of him shrouded in light then felt yet another set of hands as they locked the other bracelet onto his right wrist.

“What did you do with the package?” asked a very calm voice.

“What package are you talking about?” he replied gasping for breath.

“ We put two large packages on this boat in the Bahamas, we got one, now where’s the other?” said the louder more irritated voice of the man in front. He pushed the barrel of the gun into Brian’s forehead as he spoke. Look asshole, we don’t know you, you don’t know us, either you talk, or you’re fish food.”

He prodded the firearm hard into the bone on the side of Brian’s nose……..

Suddenly, a heavy thud followed by the sound of a metal chain wrapping itself around cracking teeth, was the next sound in the cockpit.

The hooded figure was dragged backwards yelling as his gun clattered to the ground in front of Brian, who instinctively sprung to his feet pushing backwards at the man behind him, pinning the surprised man to the hatch door. Brian then spun round quickly, hitting the man squarely between the eyes with his forehead, fondly known by the Scots as the ‘Glasgow kiss.’

“See if you can find some keys for these will you?” Brian asked Dan, holding up his cuffed hands behind him. “If not there’s one on my key ring in my cabin below.”

Ten minutes later, the two uninvited guests sat hog tied on the floor of the cockpit, hands and feet tightly bound by duct tape. The hooded man's mouth was a mess of broken teeth. His torn lips and gums badly busted where Dan had hit him with a length of anchor chain. The other intruder’s eyes were almost totally closed shut, as the swelling from the broken nose continued to spread across his face.

There were two hand- guns on the squab seat next to the wheel, along with an ominous waterproof covered package.

“Ok I’ll ask you again, who are you, and why the hell did you put that shit on our boat?”

The man with the broken nose spoke, again quietly:

“We will not talk, so you’d better get it over with. If you don’t and either of us ever sees you again, you’re both dead men. You guy’s some kind of government agents?” he added, looking disoriented through his badly distorted vision

“We’ll ask the questions if you don’t mind,” said Brian.

“Shall we take 'em out to sea and give 'em a long vertical swim?’ Tie that crap to their feet, Dan asked.

“I’ve got a better idea,” as he spoke Brian beckoned Dan towards the bows of the boat, where they got into a huddle.

Brian left the boat and returned in about five minutes pushing a hall porter’s luggage trolley. They lifted the two men onto the trolley, moved off the dock area and went on down the street, keeping to the shadows behind the rows of parked vehicles as they went. Minutes later they’d returned the trolley to where Brian had found it.

Later they sat in the corner of the bar laughing and looking out of the window as blue and red lights flashed in the darkness of the night. They heard the louder howl of another siren as an ambulance and fire engine, drew up to the hectic scene, accompanied by more strobe illumination.

An unmarked car pushed through the crowds, an older tired looking man climbed out; walking up to another plain clothes cop.

“What happened here then sergeant?”

“Very strange one sir,” he answered the older man. “We got a 911 about twenty minutes ago, said there were two guys in the back of a truck covered in packs of dope.

We got here, sure enough, there were two men in the back of this pick up, tied hand and foot and chained to the vehicle, covered in packets of cocaine, a lot more in an opened package too. Someone’s done a hell of a job on their faces. One is wanted in at least three states, we’re still checking the other. Oh! There was a note pinned to their chests, here it is sir”

The police chief laughed as he read the contents of the note out loud:

“We’re drug traffickers who want to become born again citizens! “

“No sign of the vigilantes I don’t suppose,” he asked rhetorically, taking the magnetic strobe light from the roof and climbing back into the car, tires squealing as he departed the scene.

Author's Signed and dated edition
(only available on this website / pre-production price)
(approx. 357-pages, hardcover, cloth cover binding
w/gold foil printing and ribbon page marker)
$19.95