This was his first venture into the mission field. He was determined to bring peace and salvation to the suffering people of Indonesia, just like his parents had tried to, thirty years ago. This mission to Sulawesi was exactly what he had prayed for.
Thirty dedicated young people gathered up from the churches in Australia, Canada, and America, plus a shipload of medical supplies heading out to the outer reaches of Indonesia, an island rocked by religious warfare and grinding poverty. It was exciting stuff for a young man just months out of graduate school at Pepperdine University in Malibu.
It had taken three frustrating months to worm through the bureaucratic maze in Jakarta, before they had permission to head out. The officials seemed baffled by the missionaries’ desire to leave the big city comfort for the dangers and hardships on the outer islands. And every one of them had their hand out. Tommy knew they would cool their heels in the capitol city forever unless he paid, so he reluctantly doled some of their meager funds into the clawing hands.
“Tommy, this is too exciting!” Nan Badgett squealed as she leaned out over the rusty old rail.
The pert little red head seemed always to be within a few feet, ever since she joined the group in Perth. That was just before they flew on to Jakarta. She was in her second year in an Australian nursing school. The donors thought that her rudimentary skills might be useful in the villages where they were going. Medical care was primitive. Even a second year nursing student would be useful in handing out vitamins and aspirin.
Surabaya’s noise and congestion fell further and further astern. The old inter-island tramp steamer chugged and wheezed through thick green waters of the Surabaya Straits, separating Java from Madura Island.
Clark smiled at Badgett’s enthusiasm, so near his own hidden emotions. This girl didn’t seem to keep anything back, so unlike the girls in Los Angeles. Clark found himself drawn to her open, direct manner as much as he was by her sunny good looks.
“Nan, we’re here to do God’s work, not to enjoy the sites,” he responded with much more sternness than he felt. The responsibility for the success of this mission rested heavily on his young shoulders. It was serious work.
“But the sites are here to enjoy,” she countered easily. “Only a fool would ignore the beauty and excitement.” She didn’t seem the least deterred by his demeanor.
The Sabinyama’s bluff bow pushed through the low, easy rollers as the boat entered the Java Sea. The sun slowly dipped into the sea, painting the Western sky brilliant shades of orange, red, and pinks for a few seconds before it dropped below the horizon. The two young missionaries stood quietly as the lights from Paceng and Klampis flickered on, yellow swatches against a black sea.
11 May 2000, 0605LT (1405Z)
He rolled over and smiled. Tony Calucci stretched and felt the warm, comforting flesh sharing the bed with him. Last night was totally unexpected. It all started when he had driven his Porsche down to Waikiki in the hopes of picking up some vacationing house-frau from the mainland just to relieve the tedium of spending another night with the wife.
He was sitting at the bar in the Pacific Beach Club when she walked in, a vision of pure sex. Every man in the bar was instantly erect. Her long tanned legs barely covered by a mini-skirt that bordered on being a wide belt, her ample bosom encased in a halter-top that revealed more skin than it covered. She swayed across the room and stopped at the bar next to Calucci’s seat.
Glancing at the bartender she ordered, “Chivas neat with a water chaser.”
Her voice was deep and husky, a perfect match to her ravishing dark features.She had just the hint of an accent that Calucci couldn’t quite place.
The bartender actually drooled onto the bar as he rushed to pour her drink. His hand shook so bad that he splashed some of the amber liquid onto the gleaming mahogany as he filled the shot glass.
Calucci’s jaw dropped. This was a goddess, truly worthy of the chase. He could barely take his eyes off her; they were riveted on her amply revealed cleavage.
She turned and smiled. Then she murmured, “Like what you see?”
Tony Calucci was caught totally off-guard. This girl was out of his league. She wasn’t some junior officer’s wife out for a good time while she humped to help her husband’s career.
“I’m Tareena. Tareena Mustala.” She smiled at Calucci and the whole room lit up. “I’m new in town.”
Tony Calucci stammered out an introduction. It seemed like she hung on every word he spoke. Lightening flashed from her eyes as an electric current flowed between them. Three drinks later and Tony was telling his life story. Two more drinks and they piled into his red Porsche 944. She directed him to a plush apartment building up in Pearl City, overlooking the sprawling Pearl Harbor Naval Base Complex.
The pair stumbled into her apartment in a maddening flurry of flying buttons and zippers. By the time they fell into her king sized waterbed, Calucci was completely in her power.
12 May 2000, 0042LT (11 May, 1642Z)
The Sabinyama glided to a halt. The constant vibration from her slowly turning screw and the laboring of her ancient engines stopped abruptly.
Tommy Clark jerked awake. What was the problem this time? No wonder they got a bargain to ship over on this old rust bucket. A three-day trip was now into its second week. These constant breakdowns were becoming more than an annoyance. His team of missionaries only had a few weeks to
