Angela's Cove....
Angela’s Cove, Crillsea.
Sunset, Saturday.
The incoming tide fought its never-ending battle with Crillsea cliffs. Eager waves battered ancient rocks, overwhelmed a dozen rock pools, retired, united, and then returned for more. The sea refused to surrender. This seething turbulence merely took breath and continued its eternal battle against England’s coastline.
Gently guiding his squad car into a vacant space, Davies King brought the saloon to a standstill on a car park adjacent to cliff tops at Crillsea Meadows. He applied the handbrake before casually glancing at the occupants of a vehicle next to his.
Annie Rock nodded a brief acknowledgement as her passengers began to get out of the vehicle.
Sighing deeply, tired, probably close to exhaustion, Davies stepped wearily onto the gravel and listened to the tide smash into Crillsea’s rocks below. He slammed his car door behind him and queried, ‘I heard what happened to you, Annie. I’m sorry. Just tell me one thing.’
‘Go on!’ encouraged Annie.
‘You fit enough for this?’
‘You going to try and stop me?’
‘No way,’ replied Davies. ‘I know my place.’
With a smile, Detective Inspector Annie Rock disclosed, ‘I need two minutes, Guvnor. But are you sure about this? We’ve lost the daylight and it’s never a good time to launch a raid.’
Nodding in agreement Davies replied, ‘We may have lost the daylight but we’re not going to lose our impetus and I want Ted Barnes and Gloria safe again. We’ve no time to waste and Terry Webster is in danger too, Annie. I don’t want to lose any more officers. It has to be now if you please. It’s time.’
Looking deeply into the eyes of the head of detectives, Annie studied the man. Davies seemed tired and anxious. Once more it was time for her to decide whether or not it was compulsory to follow the one who had made flying by the seat of your pants a precise science. Here was a man who lived on the edge of trouble every single day. He didn’t go looking for problems but trouble was surely his middle name.
Annie turned to her passengers and ordered, ‘Kit up, gents. It’s time to go to work. Our Guvnor needs to make his final move and close this game.’
Detective Chief Inspector Davies King turned up the collar of his leather jacket and strolled calmly towards the cliff tops whilst their unit made ready for the conflict ahead. Aware of the dying sun falling unobtrusively towards a horizon far away, Davies scanned the ocean beneath him.
Crashing waves slammed into a cliff wall, raced skywards, and then fell back capitulating to the rugged coastline that dominated this part of Southern England. High in the sky the first signs of a storm gathered. Dark clouds amalgamated to form strangely bizarre shapes before melting away into the atmosphere.
Studying a cloud formation, Davies picked out Angela’s face looking down from the heavens. She was everywhere in his mind; his eye, his brain, his very being. He had not slept properly since that discovery on the beach at the foot of these very cliffs. And today she was still there, still watching over him like some paranormal being that came and went with the passage of tumbling clouds. How he yearned for her touch, her presence. He knew she was still there waiting for him and he had accepted that one day he would be reunited with her.
Davies raised a finger to his lips and gently blew a kiss towards the clouds.
‘How long before that storm hits us?’ probed Annie.
‘There’s no wind at the moment; maybe an hour or two, Annie. Who knows?’ replied Davies.
Unlocking the boot of her car Annie shouted, ‘Guvnor, put this on and pray we get through today and can come back here and enjoy that view one more time. You’ll need this as well.’
Davies reached out to accept a bullet proof vest and a double-barrelled Viking shotgun. He donned his vest and then loaded the weapon. As Annie did likewise, Davies checked his Glock pistol and replied, ‘Thanks, Annie, it’s just that I was wondering what it was like all those years ago. Here I mean. I’ve been puzzling how many lost their lives out there. Was it a day of beautiful sunshine or typical English rain? Maybe there was a storm just like the one that’s coming. I don’t know. Could they see the cliffs? Did any of them make the beach? How far out was it?’
Davies took one more look at the rampant ocean and those tumbling clouds before leading his team to do their business.
When the car park finally emptied a silence fell across the land. Below Crillsea’s cliffs, in the middle distance, tumbling waves smashed into a row of strategically placed rocks designed by man to reduce the strength of the tidal flow and prevent cliff erosion. But an immense swell challenged the validity of the barrier. The waves tumbled, rolled, and surged on towards the English coast. The incoming tide was angry, determined, as it unleashed its pent up rage on the cliffs. The uncompromising wrath of a mighty ocean would not be set aside by a breakwater and her perplexing secrets. The breakwater had welcomed those secrets, guarded them, and hidden them from evil hands.
Only history knew the origins of those secrets and how they had come to rest in the breakwater.
*
Welcome to the crime thriller 'BREAKWATER' - but what happens next? Why Angela's Cove? And how many will return from the armed raid about to take place?
You can find out and finish the book by following the links below.... Thank you
in kindle at
https://www.amazon.co.uk/Breakwater-Paul-Anthony-ebook/dp/B00PNU8VE4/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8
or in print at