Free The Isle of Devils HOLY WAR by R. C. Farrington, Jason Farrington Page A

crept along the wall and over the chain link fence and were out of sight in no time.
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    Casemates or Bust
     
    Savage and Storm were now trying to escape the storage tank grounds with their lives. None of the terrorist shots had been heard from anyone at the Dockyard due to the loud band playing. The duo had not been detected as they made their way to the shoreline. Once there they made their way through the old dump that was on the ocean side of Casemates; then they were in the clear. Hiding behind some old rusty buoys Storm asked, “What now?”
     
    Savage replied, “Well, we’ve got two problems now, mate. First those bloody terrorists know we’re here. Secondly, we’ve got to get Krack out of Casemates before those Arabs kill him. Any rate, let’s sneak into the small shipyard between here and Casemates then look for a way in.”
     
    Storm added, “Good idea. It looks like they’re still looking for us on the other side of Casemates.”
     
    Savage agreed and added, “Follow me, mate. We’ll climb over this wall and drop down into the shipyard.” Both men helped each other up the wall which was an old elevated access road that connected Casemates to the Commissioner’s House. This road had not been used in years. They quickly moved across the road and jumped down into the small shipyard. With the full moon the view of the Casemates wall was very clear, but to no avail. There just didn’t appear to be any way for the duo to scale the towering forty foot wall of Casemates from this side.
     
    In frustration Savage and Storm sat down behind a sailboat that was up on blocks. Savage asked, “What in the hell are we going to do now? There’s no bloody way to scale the walls on this side. It’s at least forty feet high.”
     
    Storm looked around; then cocked his head back looking straight up into the air. He smiled and said, “I’ve got it. It’s easy.”
     
    Savage watching Storm knew exactly what he was thinking. He said, “You’re bloody nuts! It won’t work.”
     
    Storm smiled and said, “Don’t worry old man. When I get in I’ll send down one of the terrorists to open the front gate for you.”
     
    Savage snapped back, “This old man will take care of himself. You get going, and I’ll be right behind you.”
     
    Storm’s plan was risky, but simple. The sailboat they were leaning against had a tall mast that extended at least fifteen feet above the outer wall of Casemates. The sailboat was also sitting within twenty feet of the tall wall. Storm’s plan was to climb up the mast, and once high enough cut one of the halyards and swing over the wall dropping into Casemates. It was risky, but it might work. Storm scrambled up the mast. Once he was well above the wall he reached out and grabbed one of the halyards and cut it with his pocket knife. He tied a double knot at the end of the rope to help him grip it better. He took the rope into both hands and yelled out, “Geronimo!” Storm pushed off from the mast swinging wide and within seconds he had passed over the wall. Storm could see that he had cleared the wall and without hesitation let go of the rope flipping over backwards and landing flat on his back just inside of the Casemates wall. Lying on the ground with the wind knocked out of him, it seemed like an eternity before he could get up. Finally Storm got back to his feet and looked over the wall, waving his arm to Savage that everything was fine.
     
    Savage looked up seeing Storms signal started whispering to himself, “Oh crap! Now I’m going to probably kill myself. I’m glad I left my family a note.” Savage climbed up the mast very slowly and carefully. Once he was high enough to be able to clear the wall he took the rope and yelled out as he swung, “Look out below!” Savage did not get a good kick out with his swing and just barely cleared the Bermuda stone wall. By the time Savage let go of the rope he was already on the