Captain's Defence

Chapter One: Twelve

If you're still alive, you're still in this...

"The body is believed to be that of Lieutenant Commander Patrick Grey, captain of the Australian patrol boat HMAS Childers. The discovery of his body means the body count has risen to twelve…"

Marshall flicked off Mark Ferguson's face. "That's my second one Mike."

Mike Flynn frowned at the blank screen then returned his eyes to his senior officer. "What's going on sir?" He gaped. Having just returned from a job he didn't know about the murders. He'd heard the first two but now… twelve?

Marshall handed him a list. "That's the twelve. It was clear before but it's drop dead certain now. Someone is targeting our captains."

Mike looked at the list of murdered men, each of them a distinguished captain of an Australian Navy boat. They came from many different areas. And many were names he knew well. He frowned and slowly scanned the list.

INFORMATION: PUBLIC
SOURCE: AUSTRALIAN FEDERAL POLICE
FOR: COMMANDER STEVEN MARSHALL, HMAS CAIRNS

1. CDR Nicholas 'Paddy' O'Leary, HMAS Warramunga
2. CAPT Thomas 'Dingo' Twin, HMAS Melbourne
3. CAPT Evan 'Marks' Spencer, HMAS Manoora
4. LCDR Charles 'Professor' Fox, HMAS Wewak
5. LCDR Joseph 'Tsunami' Chin, HMAS Gascoyne
6. LCDR Arthur 'Dodger' Downie, HMAS Broome
7. CDR Richard 'Mr Cricket' Hussey, HMAS Perth
8. CAPT Harry 'Dickins' Porter, HMAS Newcastle
9. CAPT Steven 'Pop-Eye' Price, HMAS Kanimbla
10. LCDR Michael 'Angelo' Erinya, HMAS Tarakan
11. LCDR Simon 'The Rat' Rattan, HMAS Yarra
12. LCDR Patrick 'Pigeon' Grey, HMAS Childers

It was a chilling read for Mike. Pigeon, Pop-Eye and Dodger were men he knew. Now they were dead? But worse than anything, there was a pattern. He pointed it out to Marshall. He nodded.

"AFP pointed that out. ANZACs are next. The Parramatta is in the Gulf so it shouldn't be Commander Edmunds. The other captains are being kept in custody."

"So, what, the XO is in charge?" Marshall nodded. "But then won't they go after him?"

"That's a possibility yes, but the police can't guard everyone. We must assume whoever is behind this is after captains only."

Mike sighed, knowing Marshall was about to ask him to go into protective custody too, lest it be his turn after death 17. But Mike would rather die than hide. It wasn't his way. He looked at Marshall, his eyes telling his senior not to ask, and Marshall seemed to understand. "How did they die?" Mike finally asked.

Marshall sighed. "Various ways." He grabbed the list. "Twin, Porter and Grey were stabbed. Hussey's throat was cut. Fox, Downie and Rattan were strangled. The rest were shot.

Mike shook his head. "This is messed-up." He frowned. "Why so many different ways? Multiple people?"

Marshall nodded. "It appears that way. A hunt? Sport? Who knows?" He sighed. "Whatever it is, you're on their hit list Mike, I'm sure of it."

"The police have no idea who's behind this?"

"There have been minimal clues left at the scene. Whoever these people are, they're good." Marshall then gave Mike a look that simply said 'be careful' and turned away, the conversation over. Mike frowned at Marshall's retreating figure then left NAVCOM bound for the quiet lull, and dare he say safety, of the Hammersley.

"You hypothesise like a woman Spider." Charge snorted, passing the still chatting Seaman on the bridge.

A look of utter confusion crossed Spider's face. "What?"

Charge laughed. "Which word didn't you understand Spider? Hypothesise or Woman?"

"Don't tease him Charge. You know perfectly well he knows nothing about women." Bomber put in to the laughter of Nav as she came in with some information for RO. Spider gave her a glare but she just grinned at him and left the bridge.

"Don't worry Spider, you aren't alone. No one here gets women." ET put in unhelpfully.

Spider looked shocked. "I get women." He protested, not quite getting the joke.

It was at about this time that the X re-entered the bridge. "Of course you do Spider." She muttered with a small smile. Spider gave her a blank look and she held back laughing at the young man. "What time do we sail Nav?"

Nav glanced at the clock. "Uh, 20 minutes ago X."

The X frowned and looked at Nav. "What?"

Nav nodded. "We're just waiting for the captain. He should've been here 25 minutes ago."

With a frown Kate reached into her pocket and pulled out her mobile. Keying in Mike's number, which she sadly realised she knew off the top of her head, the phone started the call. 10 rings. 15 rings. Voicemail. Kate hung up and tried again. The same. With a frown she looked at Nav. "Call Marshall. Something's wrong."

Patrick 'Pigeon' Grey was a well-built man. 188cms tall and 68kgs, he was strong but fast. Yet this speed had achieved nothing that night. The night none of it had mattered.

It had been a little after 2030, the beginning of Sky News blaring into his lounge room from the small television. The house was quiet, the way he liked it. Not empty, but quiet. Somewhere near the back of the house his twin daughters Ruby and Grace were reading. Studying he hoped, but doubting it. At 16 they should be studying but instead they had developed a crush on a vampire named Edward. Patrick blamed himself for that. He had bought them the entire Twilight series for their birthday the month before. Now, with exams fast approaching, it seemed likely their answers would in some way relate to the struggles of being a vegetarian vampire. Somewhere near them their mother Tanya was ironing. Their eldest child and only son Harrison had a very important interview coming up that may stand between him and university if it didn't go well so Tanya had panicked and was now ironing every good shirt he had just in case. As for Harrison, what he was up to at the moment Patrick didn't know, but it likely involved him deep in conversation with his girlfriend Yvonne. Whatever he was doing, he wasn't disturbing his father and Patrick was thankful for that. It was his thing to sit down at 2030 and watch the news. A ritual of his that helped him sleep. He still wasn't sure how he managed to do without it when on board the Childers.

Then there was a sound outside. A bin falling over. It let out a loud crash and then the sound of it rolling away. Patrick frowned then realised it was probably the neighbours dumb cat Snickers and ignored it, vowing to pick it up in the morning when he actually had time. He settled back into the news. Then another crash, different and closer. This one sounded like something hitting the external blinds on his house. Something thrown. With a frown Patrick pushed himself up from the lounge and went to the front window. There was no one there. There was nothing. Just the bin still rolling slowly down his driveway towards the road. With a sigh Patrick turned on the porch light and opened the front door, stepping out into the cool night air. It was a beautiful night, the kind he enjoyed when at sea. But he was off for a few days to see the kids. As much as that happened when they spent all days on their own in their rooms. But, shaking that out, he headed down the front driveway to regather the bin. He didn't notice the figure in the garden. He didn't notice the knife. He didn't realise anything was wrong until it was plunged into his back.

Mike's eyes snapped open and he noticed he was still sitting outside NAVCOM. He had taken the seat after leaving Marshall behind when he felt a strange coldness wash over him. He'd felt weak, like he was about to faint, so had taken a seat. But now, 30 minutes later, he was still here. He frowned and pushed himself to his feet, a sharp pain in his back making him groan. He felt like he'd just been stabbed. It hurt like nothing else. It was like every muscle in his back burned. And his head swam with images, his eyes with tears. It was dark, night. There was a bin. There was a bin rolling towards the road? And a sound. A voice. A name.

Mike's eyes snapped open and he stood up, blinking in the bright afternoon sunlight. A name? But what did it mean?

"Sir?"

Mike turned, seeing Kate. He gathered himself and gave her a smile. "Oh, hi, sorry, I didn't see you there."

Kate frowned. "Mike, are you okay? You look, I don't know, not yourself."

Mike gave her a weak smile. "I'll be fine once I get the sea air into me again."

Kate nodded. "Yeah." But her smile didn't reach her eyes. "What did Marshall have to say?"

Mike frowned. "Not much. C'mon, let's sail. I do believe we're late." Then, brushing the thoughts from his mind, Mike headed back to the Hammersley.

A/N: For Livi who suggested I try some Mike/Kate. Let's see how this goes. But I assure you that you will regret that suggestion.

Thanks to: Stevo who corrected my rankings system. Lol, thanks luv, i better work on that. *goofy look*