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    An Explosive Affair
    An Explosive Affair
    An Explosive Affair
    Ebook206 pages3 hours

    An Explosive Affair

    By Drew Lindsay

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    About this ebook

    Why would anyone want to blow up an entire Australian town? How would they get their hands on sufficient explosives to even undertake such a task? Why would ex police detective Ben Hood end up in the middle of this town at the same time as the bomber is preparing to unleash devastation? Can an outcast, 12 year old Aboriginal girl be of any assistance to Ben in finding a way to resolve an impending catastrophe? An Explosive Affair holds all the answers.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherDrew Lindsay
    Release dateNov 21, 2012
    ISBN9781301545490
    An Explosive Affair
    Author

    Drew Lindsay

    Drew Lindsay is a dynamic Australian Novelist and Writer. He has travelled extensively throughout Australia and the world. His background includes working as a Policeman and detective, then managing his own private investigation business as well as working in Fraud Investigation Management positions within the insurance industry.Drew is a PADI Divemaster and holds a private pilot's license. He has a great love of entertaining others with his vivid imagination. His novels allow the reader to escape into worlds of romance, excitement, humour and fast paced adventure. Drew lives in northern New South Wales with his wife.

    Read more from Drew Lindsay

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      Book preview

      An Explosive Affair - Drew Lindsay

      An Explosive Affair

      Ben Hood Thriller Number 7

      By Drew Lindsay

      Smashwords Edition

      Copyright © Drew Lindsay 2012

      The right of Drew Lindsay as the Author of this Work has been asserted.

      The characters and events in this book are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead is purely coincidental.

      This novel is dedicated to Eric Vatoko, his dad Sala, family and staff at Tara Beach Resort, Vanuatu, where much of this book was written.

      With special thanks to Diva of the South Pacific, Vanessa Quai, who lifted my spirits with her amazing voice, and gave me the inspiration to press on.

      Acknowledgements

      Thanks again to Narelle and Barbara for repairing the damage which I cause every time I create a new story.

      ****

      Smashwords Edition, License Notes

      This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

      ****

      ALSO BY DREW LINDSAY

      All books are available from eRetailers worldwide

      Coral Sea Affair

      Ben Hood Thriller Number 1

      Black Mountain Affair

      Ben Hood Thriller Number 2

      Flesh Traders

      Ben Hood Thriller Number 3

      The Dead Woman’s House

      Ben Hood Thriller Number 4

      The Men’s Club

      Ben Hood Thriller Number 5

      The Dark Affair

      Ben Hood Thriller Number 6

      An Explosive Affair

      Ben Hood Thriller Number 7

      A Lost Lady

      Ben Hood Thriller Number 8

      Treasure

      Ben Hood Thriller Number 9

      Charlotte’s Fear

      Ben Hood Thriller Number 10

      Dying in Paradise

      Ben Hood Thriller Number 11

      Disorganised Crime

      Ben Hood Thriller Number 12

      Atomic Blonde

      Ben Hood Thriller Number 13

      ****

      CHAPTER ONE

      Detective Inspector Nelson Wallace stared at the printed report in front of him. He read it twice, just on the off chance that he had missed something, or misinterpreted something. He let the single sheet of paper slip from his fingers and picked up the telephone handset and hit a speed dial number. As he waited for a pickup, he glanced out of the grubby window of the second floor office of the Mount Isa police station in Far North Queensland, Australia, at the jumble of heat drenched buildings which made up the tiny central business district. An air conditioning vent on the back wall of his office rattled and shook as the louvers swung left and right on unoiled bearings. He took off his reading glasses and threw them on the desk.

      ‘Moon here.’

      ‘Detective Senior Constable Moon. This is Detective Inspector Wallace. Remember me?’

      ‘Of course I do. You taught me everything I know.’

      Detective Inspector Wallace’s face began to turn a rather alarming shade of red. ‘Did I now? Obviously not everything got through to your tiny brain. Where the bloody hell are you?’

      ‘I’m doing a bit of banking for the bride up in town. I’ll be back in a few minutes.’

      ‘You had better be in my office in less than one minute or you may find yourself the lowest ranking officer in one of the most isolated and horrible police posts in bloody Queensland..!’

      ‘I thought that was Mount Isa boss.’

      ‘You have no idea Constable Moon. Get back here now!’

      ‘Look, I know what this is about and I can assure you that….’

      Detective Inspector Wallace slammed down the phone. He slowly sank into a vinyl chair and read the report again, shaking his head slowly from side to side. He ran a skin cancer scarred hand through his thinning red hair.

      Detective Moon rushed into Inspector Wallace’s office without knocking. Not a good start to what was already set to be an extremely nasty confrontation. ‘If it’s about the explosives; I can explain.’

      ‘Sit down Senior Constable Moon, or was that Constable Moon. I’m not sure just what your rank will be by sunset.’

      ‘Sir I can explain…’

      ‘You will shut your bloody trap and just answer my questions either with a yes or a no, or in very short sentences. If you even think about rambling on, I’ll shove this report of yours firmly up your arse.’

      ‘Yes sir.’

      ‘You prepared this crime report this morning?’

      ‘Well it was late by the time…..’

      ‘I said a yes or no and don’t you dare challenge me over this Constable Moon or so help me!’ Inspector Wallace was now yelling at the top of his voice, and the volume was considerable.

      Moon shrank back in his chair. ‘Yes, this morning.’

      ‘And the crime was actually detected around 10pm last night and phoned through to the general duties police shortly afterwards.’

      ‘Yes sir.’

      ‘And you were called out because of the suspected urgent nature of the matter?’

      ‘Yes; however there was some speculation that the items were simply mislaid.’ The look on Inspector Wallace’s face silenced him instantly.

      ‘Have you been able to confirm that this speculation has foundation?’

      ‘No.’

      ‘8 boxes of AN Gelignite 60 with one spool of primer cord with the PETN exploding rate of around 4 miles per second, as well as 250 blasting caps.’

      ‘Yes sir.’

      ‘Please tell me just how many sticks of Gelignite are in each box?’

      ‘250.’

      ‘And what size are these particular sticks?’

      ‘25mm by 200mm in length.’

      ‘So, correct me if I’m wrong, but someone out there has apparently stolen 2,000 sticks of Gelignite with just 250 detonators and a relatively small amount of extremely fast burning fuse. It sounds to me like someone is planning to set the entire lot off at the same time.’

      Detective Moon remained silent.

      ‘What do you think Constable Moon?’

      ‘Well there could be some slight delay with the detonation of some…..’

      ‘Right or bloody wrong Constable Moon?’

      ‘Right sir.’

      ‘Mount Isa is a fairly reasonably sized city, notwithstanding it being in the middle of the bloody Australian desert.’

      ‘Yes sir.’

      ‘So indulge me for a moment. Let’s just say that some deranged lunatic decided to get his hands on the amount of Gelignite you report is missing, together with the necessary equipment to detonate it in its entirety, properly placed of course, in the Mount Isa business district; how much of the CBD would be left?’

      ‘Not a thing I would suggest.’

      ‘Not a thing eh?’

      ‘No sir.’

      ‘And just for the sake of argument, let’s say this deranged individual wanted to take the entire town of Mount Isa, suburbs and all, off the map with his 2000 sticks of Gelignite and associated detonating equipment…’ The Detective Inspector got up rather quickly and walked to a map of Mount Isa pinned on a large board on a side wall. ‘That’s a heavily populated area around 2 kilometres wide from the mines towards the east, and around 4 kilometres from north to south of the centre of the CBD.’

      ‘Sir, that’s a bit…’

      ‘Shut your face Colin. This guy doesn’t have sufficient fuse to take out an area that large, so he’s obviously planning on using electronic triggering devices. That way when he hits a button or dials a number on his mobile phone: what happens to Mount Isa Constable Moon?’

      ‘There wouldn’t be much left sir.’

      ‘Your house, wife and kids would be gone?’

      ‘There is a good chance that would be the case.’

      ‘I don’t have a wife Constable Moon. She used to live in this God forsaken town, but she left me five years ago. A drunken Abo punched her in the head as she was loading her shopping bags into the back of our station wagon. Took a bag of shopping and ran off. Do you know what he got off her Constable Moon?’

      Moon looked decidedly uncomfortable. ‘No sir.’

      ‘Two bottles of floor cleaner; a bag of Kitty Litter, and a super size bag of lawn fertiliser. Uniformed guys caught him 20 minutes later trying to drink the floor cleaner. Can you believe that?’

      ‘No sir.’

      ‘If she had been stupid enough to stay married to me after her attacker escaped from hospital, and this supposed idiot with 2,000 sticks of jelly decided to let them off all around this town, she’d probably be dead.’

      Moon said nothing.

      ‘Lucky she left me eh?’

      ‘Sir….’

      ‘Shut up Moon. The Abo died by the way. Floor cleaner isn’t all that good for you. Let me revise that. Floor cleaner is not all that good for you if you are stupid enough to drink it. On the other hand, 2,000 sticks of AN Gelignite 60 are probably capable of doing more damage than burning the crap out of your guts after a few gulps of domestic floor cleaner. Am I right?’

      ‘Yes sir.’

      ‘But you only reported it this morning after you had completed the rest of your evening nap with your lovely wife.’

      ‘Sir, I can explain…’

      ‘You are dead meat Moon. The Government rules and regulations surrounding the possession, use and particularly the security of explosives in this country are so tight a damn flea couldn’t get through them!’

      ‘I’m assured it’s simply been an accounting error.’

      ‘Who reported the accounting error Constable Moon?’

      ‘The Isa north mine Manager.’

      ‘That would be Tim Cotton.’

      ‘Yes.’

      ‘I want him in here now.’

      ‘It’s his day off sir.’

      Detective Moon looked at his Inspector’s face. He immediately used his mobile phone to dial a number. ‘Sorry Timmy. My boss wants you here ASAP. It’s about the missing explosives.’

      Detective Inspector Wallace heard shouting on the other end of Moon’s mobile phone. Colin Moon shrugged his shoulders helplessly. ‘He won’t come in.’

      ‘Then I’ll shut down the entire mine.’

      ‘He’s going to shut down the coal mine Timmy. You know he can do it. You’ll get into so much shit over this.’

      More heated conversation via mobile phone. Detective Moon looked up. ‘He’s coming in.’

      ****

      CHAPTER TWO

      Ben Hood had left the New South Wales police department under what some may have felt was a cloud. He was accused by senior officers of being a little too unorthodox in his manner of dealing with violent criminals. Ben had a reputation as a senior police detective of either beating hostile criminals to within an inch of their lives, or beyond, with his special fighting skills, or where he felt it was warranted, shooting them dead. Ben was 52 years old, 6 foot 1 inches tall with short cropped greying hair, blue eyes, suntanned complexion, numerous scars on various parts of his face and body, and extremely fit for his age, thanks to punishing workouts at the hands of his fighting trainer, Korean born Akira Misaka (8th Dan Hachidan Japanese Pal Dan – Korean). Ben now worked as a VIP protection agent for Rodney Reid’s exclusive agency known oddly enough as Security for Very Important People. Ben was Rodney’s best operative, but also the most controversial and highly publicised, the latter of particular annoyance to Ben, who shunned the limelight with the determination of a cat attempting to escape from a bath.

      Ben had recently undertaken what was supposed to be an easy assignment; house sitting an old allegedly haunted house on St. Helena Island in Moreton Bay just off Brisbane in Queensland, Australia. (THE DEAD WOMAN’S HOUSE) During the course of this assignment, which almost caused his demise, he met and became extremely fond of a family of women who unofficially adopted him as one of their own. These three women were sisters Irene and Samantha and their grandmother, Ivy Cruz. Irene was 23 years old; a wild, steamy, stunningly beautiful girl with a body most girls her age would kill for; snow white skin, slightly upturned nose, short blond hair, and bright green eyes. Her relationship with the much older Ben was somewhat complex, more for him than her. It was sensual, not sexual, but at the same time tended more towards the paternal at Ben’s insistence.

      Samantha, or Sam, as she insisted Ben call her, had just turned 31. Where her Sister Irene was wild and steamy, Sam sent men weak at the knees just by the way she walked into a room and the way she confidently moved her body. She was six feet tall, fit and voluptuous, with long dark blond hair, flawless skin like her sister, with the same slightly upturned nose and green eyes, inherited from her grandmother. She was very strong willed, wouldn’t take crap from anyone, especially a man, yet she melted like butter in the sun when she was anywhere near Ben, and for very good reason. Ivy Cruz was 90 years of age, tall and strong, with slightly wrinkled but almost flawless skin, deep green eyes and long silver hair. She had been a bed ridden recluse in the house Ben was sent to guard, until quite by accident, or providence, or both, they met. Within weeks he had her on her feet and walking again. Also thanks to Ben and enormous risks he took, she and her granddaughters were probably the richest women in Australia. Ivy and Samantha owned penthouse suites in Q1, the most exclusive luxury accommodation, and by far the tallest building in Queensland. Irene had absolute beach front luxury not far away.

      The sudden and unexpected riches bestowed on the Cruz family at Ben’s hands, resulted in a number of promises being made to him. The most touching and compelling of all was to have Ben help the family fulfil a dream held unto death by Ivy’s husband. That was to one day become rich from the precious stones he toiled for years to extract from the barren Australian desert, and to treat his wife and grandchildren to a first class trip to Paris, France, a land he had only dreamed about, to see the sights of Paris which had been etched deeply in his mind

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