Dangerous Alliance, page 14
“Hmmm.” Dacar scratched under his right arm. “What would you know about ransom?”
“Others have seized ships and done the same. I assume you are no different.”
“Well, Captain Stavros, you are mistaken. This hijacking is not about a ransom. We work for a higher purpose.” Bet you want the information. It’s much better than a ransom. “If you and your crew don’t—”
“Dacar.” Breathless, Sahid entered the bridge. “I-I must speak with you. Now.”
The pirates moved away from the captain, who showed no apparent interest in this interruption.
“What is it? I’m interrogating the ship’s captain.”
Sahid took several deep breaths to calm himself. “I went into the mess and counted the crewmen. We had twenty-three prisoners with three of our men watching over them.”
“What’s the problem?”
“Three are missing!”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, Dacar. We checked everywhere. All doors are locked. We opened closets, cupboards, anywhere a man might fit. I don’t understand how, but they’ve disappeared.”
Dacar rushed over to Stavros and backhanded him.
Blood seeped from the corner of the captain’s mouth, which he wiped away with a finger.
Dacar hit him again. He went to strike him a third time when Sahid grabbed his arm.
“Enough, Dacar.” Sahid pulled a knife from a sheath on his belt. “Let me speak with him.”
“Don’t kill him—we need answers.”
Stavros grinned, his teeth covered with blood. “What’s the matter? Are my men too smart for you?” Stavros spat on the deck to clear his mouth.
Sahid placed the point of his knife under the captain’s left eye. “How did they escape? Where did they go?”
Stavros glared at Sahid but remained silent.
“Answer me!” Sahid pushed the blade forward, and blood dripped from a small cut.
Stavros closed his eyes, a whimper escaping from his swollen lips. “Do what you want with me. You’ll never find my men until it’s too late for you.”
Dacar pushed past Sahid, using the rifle butt of his AK to smash the side of the captain’s head. Stavros stumbled forward and toppled to the floor, dazed.
Dacar kicked him in the ribs and turned to Sahid. “Find those men. Take Samatar with you. Tear the ship apart if necessary. Select a member of the crew to kill if they won’t talk.”
***
The tanker was long overdue at the oil refinery in Durban, South Africa and frantic contact calls ensued. They were unsuccessful. Naval ships along the east coast of Africa were notified about the missing vessel.
“Commander, a signal from the South Africans.”
“Thank you, Lieutenant.” Commander Ben Pierce, commanding officer of HMS Snapdragon, a type-45 destroyer, glanced at the short paragraph. He handed the paper back.
“Seems the Somali pirates might be causing more problems again.”
“Yes, sir. Shall we give pursuit?”
Commander Pierce laughed at Lieutenant Brown’s enthusiasm. “Since we don’t know where the Zeus is, how do you propose we give pursuit? It appears the transponder failed or was switched off. Pass the word to Navy Command Headquarters. We’ll wait for orders.”
“Yes, sir.”
Two hours later, the lieutenant approached Commander Pierce. “Sir, our orders came through.” He handed over the document.
To: Commanding Officer, HMS Snapdragon
From: Navy Command HQ, Whale Island
Initial report confirmed. Proceed with best possible speed from current position along the African coast to Kismaayo. Greek Naval frigate will join you for the search mission. Additional information will be provided when available. Acknowledge.
“Not quite a pursuit, Lieutenant, but the next best thing. Acknowledge and initiate orders.”
“Yes, Commander.” The lieutenant smiled as he picked up the intercom to commence his first operation.
***
One of the pirates guarding the sailors in the mess lit a khat cigarette and passed the joint around. At the rear of the room, Kallias Markos, the chief engineer, leaned against the wall, flanked by his assistants, Phelix and Vasilis.
He tapped each one on the knee and tilted his head toward a closed door four feet away. Keeping a close eye on their captors, the three men inched their way along the floor to a swivel door.
When he saw the three guards facing away from them, Kallias nudged the kick panel on well-oiled hinges with his foot. He slid inside the galley.
Phelix and Vasilis joined him moments later near an extended air vent cover.
Pulling out his Swiss Rescue Tool, Kallias selected the Phillips screwdriver and attacked the four screws holding the screen in place. Once removed, a metal tunnel was revealed, wide enough for an adult to enter.
“Glad we created this escape hatch.” Kallias motioned for Phelix to enter. “In you go. Be quiet and head to the engine room. We’ll join you as soon as possible.”
Phelix nodded and disappeared into the tunnel. After he was out of sight, Vasilis followed. Kallias entered and reached through an access panel to re-secure the cover. Satisfied they hadn’t been missed, he crawled through the maze, popping through an open cover near the engine room.
In his domain, Kallias paced the crowded area. “We must send a message about the hijacking. Vasilis—make your way to the old radio room. The equipment still works.”
“Yes, Chief.” He grabbed a heavy wrench for protection and departed.
Kallias turned to Phelix. “Go to the captain’s quarters. There’s a shoebox in the bottom of his closet containing a pistol and ammunition. Bring it here.”
“What will you do?”
“First, I’ll slow the Zeus down. Not too much, but enough to delay our journey. Once I have the captain’s pistol, I’ll try to rescue him.”
***
Sahid, Samatar and two others searched for the missing crewmen. They began at the bow and continued throughout the ship until they ended up at the stern.
“Where are they?” Samatar shook his head. “Are you sure the numbers were correct?”
“Yes. I counted the ship’s crew twice. I’m positive three are missing.”
Samatar released a deep sigh as he shrugged. “Should we check again?”
“Yes.” Sahid pulled out his knife and grinned. “In the meantime, I’ll talk with the captain again. I’ll be more persuasive this time.”
Sahid returned to the bridge. The captain’s face was impassive, unlike the smirk he wore before. Sahid grabbed the captain by his shirt and poked him with the knife’s point, just below his Adam’s apple, drawing blood. “Where are the missing men? How did they escape? Tell me, or you’ll—”
Dacar stopped Sahid. “Wait. The captain might still be of use. Don’t kill him—yet. We’ll broadcast a message through the ship for the sailors to surrender or else.”
“He knows where they’re hiding. All he needs is some encourage—”
“Dacar!” A young pirate, his chest heaving, rushed up to the pirate leader. “A plane is approaching. Fast. I think—”
Loud engine noises drowned out whatever the man planned to say. Dacar rushed to a window as two military aircraft circled the ship. “I think the Americans call those planes Hornets.”
“What should we do?” The young man’s eyes widened with fear.
“Go out—”
The windows rattled as the planes thundered past on either side of the ship before gaining altitude.
“Go out and wave. A normal crew would do so.”
After several additional passes, the aircraft waggled their wings as they zoomed upward, the sound of their engines fading in the distance.
“They must be satisfied we’re not the missing Zeus.” Dacar laughed. “Good thing we altered the name on the bow and stern as quick as we did. We paid a hefty bribe to have the name registered.”
“Yes. Should I continue searching for the missing crewmen?” Sahid shoved his knife back in its sheath.
“Not yet. I want to speak with Tahliil and ask his opinion.”
***
HMS Snapdragon joined forces with the Greek frigate HS Navarone. Maintaining a distance between ships of five miles, they steamed east, searching for the missing Zeus.
“Commander, another signal from HQ.”
To: Commanding Officer, HMS Snapdragon
From: Navy Command HQ, Whale Island
Three hours ago, U.S. Naval aircraft located an oil tanker proceeding in established shipping lanes towards India. They identified the ship as the Zebu, flying a Bahamian flag. No sign of the Zeus.
Maintain current operation with Greek frigate. Will advise.
“Lieutenant, how difficult would it be to change Zeus to Zebu?”
“With calm seas, the same color paint and appropriate stencils, no time at all.”
“That’s what I thought. I believe the Americans were duped. They had spotted our missing tanker, but since they focused on the name and the flag, they didn’t think outside the box.” Commander Pierce shook his head. “Send a message to HQ requesting the coordinates where the Americans spotted the tanker. As soon as you receive the information, plot a course. Inform the Greeks, too.”
“Aye, Commander.”
***
Dacar tossed the satellite phone on the desk. “Three hours! Must be another sandstorm in Kismaayo.”
He cracked his knuckles as he paced, swearing beneath his breath. Dacar waited another five minutes before dialing Tahliil’s number.
“Allo?”
“Tahliil! At last, I’ve reached you. I’ve been trying for hours.”
“We had bad sandstorm. It stopped. The sky is clear.”
“I need your advice, Tahliil.” Dacar explained what had transpired since they captured the oil tanker.
“Dacar, make Greeks fear you. Kill one.”
Chapter Twenty
Jujubba Refugee Camp
Malindi, Kenya
After David announced terrorists had kidnapped ten female refugees and killed another, George, Alf, and the other volunteers sat in stunned disbelief. Minutes passed as muted sobbing and sniffling invaded the silence.
“How? Why? Who would do this?” Alf clenched his hands into tight fists, his knuckles whitening. An occasional tear escaped, unbidden, down his face as he tried to come to terms with the human brutality he’d witnessed firsthand.
“May I have your attention, please?” David stepped onto a small crate. “We volunteered to help those in this camp who are in distress and require assistance. Sometimes, evil forces take advantage of people who are weak.”
David wiped his eyes before continuing. “We must be strong for those who remain and depend upon us. We’ll never forget what’s happened, but we must continue our work.”
Heads nodded as they listened to David’s calm voice.
A lone voice hummed a popular song. One by one others joined in, holding hands and swaying to the offbeat tune. When the song finished, the group hugged one another and grew silent.
“We’ll hold a memorial service this evening.” Ian clapped his hands. “Now we must focus on the living. Should you want to speak with David or me in private, we’ll be available for you.”
As the camp staff left the communal area, Alf rushed over to George. “How are you able to be so calm with what’s happened?”
“I’ve been trained to keep my emotions inside. In private, my emotions come out, but the public persona remains steadfast.”
“How do you manage? I mean …. I understand you’re an heir and must receive training. But … this is a disaster.”
“Shh. Keep your voice down. David, Ian, and you are aware of my secret, but no one else is. They might suspect, but no point in confirming for them who I am. Everyone leaves me alone, and they know me as George, one of the volunteers.”
Ian walked up to the pair. “Are you guys up to working today? David said more refugees are approaching, so if possible, he needs your help.”
They joined Ian and meandered through the camp to the processing tables. David and two other volunteers prepared for new arrivals. In the distance, a small dust cloud marked the arrival of displaced people.
“Hey, George, Alf. Thanks for helping out. With so many shook up over what happened, I understand most of our aides want time to themselves.”
“Hi, David. We think it’s better to work.” George pointed at Alf. “We’ll do our grieving in private later. More important to keep busy.”
Alf nodded, but remained silent. He brushed aside a trickling tear and joined the other volunteers.
“George, I must take care of some things. Will you oversee the others and register our new arrivals?” David’s hand shook in the air as he spoke. “Remember to ask for documentation, although most won’t have any. Ask their names, where they’re from, and age. Write the information on a form and have them sign.”
“We’ll remember, no problem.”
“Thank you. I’ll send others with extra water bottles and high-energy food. The doctor is in his tent, ready to examine the refugees after they’re registered.”
“I understand.” George smiled and shooed David away. “Take care of your business. If any difficulties arise, someone will find you.”
David glanced at the ground before gazing at George. “Thanks for being understanding. This has been a tremendous blow to everyone here. I don’t know how you’ve held up given your past.”
After David departed, George grabbed a chair from under a nearby canopy, sat and dropped his head into his hands.
Why’s the world so violent? Wish I could speak with Granny.
Alf sauntered up to George, putting an arm on his friend’s shoulder. “The refugees are approaching, appears to be about twenty-five. Will you be okay?”
“Yes. I was reflecting on the situation. Horrible.”
Alf assisted George to his feet, and they prepared to help those in need.
***
One person after another approached the tables and waited for processing. Unlike the first group George and Alf assisted, the latest refugees arrived in better physical shape. However, all showed signs of trauma, though a few managed to talk about marauders attacking their village and razing it to the ground. Several bled from small knife wounds and one sported a long welt where a raider tried to brand her before she escaped.
Deep brown eyes peeked from under long unkempt hair. The girl clutched her mother’s hand as she stared at George.
“What’s the little one’s name?” George knelt beside the child. Her mother smiled as her daughter grasped George’s extended hand.
“Rihana. She is seven years old.”
“A beautiful name. Hello, Rihana. My name is George.”
Rihana giggled and hid behind her mother’s skirt. Moments later, she shifted her head to peek at George.
“Boo!”
Peals of laughter erupted from Rihana.
“I must stop now, Rihana.” George stood and spoke to her mother. “I know her name, but what is yours? I must list it on the form.”
“I am Nagan.”
George turned to Alf. “Please enter Nagan’s name on the form and add her daughter, Rihana.”
“All done. Nagan, are you able to write your name?”
She nodded. “I learned English in Mogadishu at the American Embassy. I worked there as a translator for four years, before the fighting.”
After completing the forms, a British nurse named Rachel led Nagan and Rihana toward the doctor’s tent.
George shook his head. “Imagine someone branding Rihana like she was a possession. What’s the world coming to?”
“It’s a hard life here. At home, we complain about the most trivial matters as if the world will end.” Alf closed the ledger while they waited for any further arrivals. “Most of us would collapse trying to survive in these conditions.”
***
Two nights later, after the evening meal, the volunteers huddled around a small campfire. Rather than a boisterous group, conversation remained muted and laughter almost nonexistent.
Since the abductions and murder, George served as the de facto leader. He stood, backed away a few feet, and clapped his hands for attention. “The shock of what happened will remain with us forever.” He gazed at each person. “We can’t let it ruin our lives. I speak from experience.”
Alf chuckled, breaking the silence. Soon, others joined in until a ripple of laughter circled the campfire.
“Rihana, who joined us a few days ago, came to me this afternoon.” George gazed at his friends and colleagues sitting around the campfire. “She doesn’t know much English, but she used two words: ‘Thank you’ before giving me a hug. We must pull ourselves up and continue our work before returning home. These people are counting on us.”
***
Short and rotund, Busuri lay on his stomach, peering at the refugee camp through a night scope. He studied the foreigners around the fire and grunted. Perhaps a new target this time? Something to raise fear in those who don’t belong here?
Busuri left his vantage point and crawled back to the wadi. Not a sound escaped from the eleven men waiting for his return. A small backpack and weapons of choice lay within easy reach of each man. Some chewed khat while others dozed.
In a quiet voice, Busuri spoke. “Change of plans. I found something better than entertainment to take from the camp.”
“What’s better?” Looshan asked.
“You’re the youngest member of the group, so there is more to learn. Foreigners—we’ll be able to ransom them as Dacar does with the ships.”
“Aah. I understand.”
“Take the goggles and monitor the people around the campfire. Make note of where they go. Take someone with you. When you find out where the foreigners are staying, report back.”
“Yes, Busuri.”
“Pay particular attention to the tall man with a white bandage or something plastered on his nose. He might be worth something.”
Looshan took the proffered goggles, but hesitated.
