Authors: R. E. McDermott
Tags: #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Thrillers & Suspense, #Military, #Spies & Politics, #Assassinations, #Conspiracies, #Terrorism, #Literature & Fiction, #Action & Adventure, #Sea Adventures, #Thrillers, #pirate, #CIA, #tanker, #hostage, #sea story, #Espionage, #russia, #ransom, #maritime, #Suspense, #Somalia, #captives, #prisoner, #Somali, #Action, #MI5, #spy, #Spetsnaz, #Marine, #Adventure, #piracy, #London, #Political
“Exchanges? Christ! Why the hell is that an issue?” Dugan asked. “Most captured pirates end up in Kenyan prisons and back in Somalia before the ink’s dry on the paperwork. It’s a joke.”
“Not entirely,” Anna said. “Captured pirates are increasingly being bound over for trial in Yemen and especially neighboring Somaliland. And given centuries-old animosity between the clans in what are now Somali and Somaliland, Somali pirates aren’t going to escape from a Somaliland prison quite so easily.”
Dugan shrugged. “That doesn’t seem to have made much of a difference so far, and this is going to end badly. I think we all know that. Sooner or later, the US Navy or Special Forces or someone is going to take back the
Luther Hurd
—public opinion in the US won’t allow anything less. But there are hundreds of other captives, on two dozen ships scattered up and down the Somali coast, and when the
Luther Hurd
is free and the money dries up, you know what’s going to happen.”
Alex looked distressed. “Perhaps all the navies acting in concert—”
“Can what?” asked Dugan? “Mount a simultaneous rescue operation of two dozen ships? If that was going to happen, it would have happened months ago. Hell, Alex, no one was willing to take that risk when there were a few crews held captive and rescue was possible. No one’s going to step up to the plate now that hundreds of lives are at stake. I doubt even the US would risk attacking the
Luther Hurd
if there was an option. These al-Shabaab assholes are clearly out to provoke a confrontation, and will murder as many crewmen as necessary to get one.”
Alex sighed. “You’re right, of course. As much as we all hated paying these murderers off, ransom was the only practical recourse to safeguard the crews. I shudder to think what will happen now that we can’t give them what they want.”
Dugan nodded. After a moment, he spoke.
“Suppose we do give them what they want?”
“What? How, Thomas? The government isn’t going to allow ransom. What else do we have they want?”
Dugan smiled. “Oh, we don’t have it yet. And they don’t know they want it yet. But they will, they will.” He glanced at his watch. “Let’s take a little cab ride. I’ll fill you in on the way.”
Embassy of the Republic of Liberia
Fitzroy Square, London, UK
Given the nature of the visit, both Dugan and Alex had prevailed upon Anna to absent herself. As he looked around the richly appointed conference room, Dugan wondered if he should be here himself. A question made moot by the arrival of the Honorable Ernest Dolo Macabee, Foreign Minister of the Republic of Liberia, who bustled in and took a seat opposite them across the table.
“May I offer you some refreshment, gentlemen?” he asked. “Coffee? Tea? Something stronger?”
Dugan looked at Alex, who shook his head.
“No, we’re fine, Mr. Minister, thank you,” Alex said. “And thank you also for seeing us on such short notice.”
Macabee made a dismissive gesture. “Not at all, Mr. Kairouz. I’m just glad you caught me in London.” He smiled. “And I’m always happy to see you and Mr. Dugan. I always find our discussions agreeable.”
To say nothing of profitable,
thought Dugan.
“Now,” Macabee said, “how can I be of service?”
Alex glanced at Dugan again, seemingly hesitant, and then began.
“We’d like to discuss the issue of piracy,” he said. “Specifically in Somalia.”
Macabee nodded as he leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers. “A serious issue. Not only in Somalia but increasingly in West Africa as well. We, of course, decry these barbarous acts, and are fully supportive of international efforts to end the blight of piracy wherever it exists.”
“What we’d like, Mr. Minister,” Dugan said, “is some clarification of the Liberian position regarding the penalties for piracy and enforcement of anti-piracy laws. The Liberian statutes seem a bit …” Dugan smiled. “Shall we say, vague.”
The Liberian returned his smile. “I think of them as flexible, Mr. Dugan. After all, no law can anticipate the circumstances of every incident.” He shrugged. “Alas, the point is moot. My poor country lacks resources to enforce criminal laws on an international basis. But what, may I inquire, is your interest?”
Dugan looked at Alex, who extracted a small notepad from his breast pocket, scribbled a figure on it, and slid it across the table to Macabee. The Liberian picked up the pad and peered at it at arm’s length, before fumbling in his shirt pocket for a pair of half-lens reading glasses with expensive tortoiseshell frames. He donned the glasses and stared down his nose at the note.
“Your interest is quite … substantial,” he said at last.
“And available for deposit in the offshore bank of your choice,” Alex said.
Macabee smiled. “Once again, Mr. Kairouz, how may I help you?”
“As Mr. Dugan indicated,” Alex said, “we’d like to know your country’s position on piracy.”
Macabee’s smile widened. “My dear Mr. Kairouz, what would you like it to be?”
Chapter Seven
Offices of Phoenix Shipping Ltd.
London, UK
Alex pecked at the keyboard, studying the spreadsheet as Dugan and Anna looked on.
“Are we going to have enough?” Dugan asked.
“It’s tight,” Alex said. “Between Macabee and the projected costs of the operation, we’ll consume our entire cash reserve, to say nothing of loss of the ship. I’ve got to find some contingency funds somewhere.” Alex sighed. “And then hope like bloody hell I can convince the insurers to make us whole later.”
Dugan nodded, as Anna spoke.
“Not to change the subject,” she said, “but what about Ward? Have you filled him in on this bloody insanity? If not, I’m going to have to, I’m afraid. Besides, he has the best intel, presuming he’s inclined to share instead of having you two locked up as dangers to yourselves and others.”
“I’ll call him later,” Dugan said, “after I’ve—”
“Now, Tom. Or I will,” Anna said, holding up her cell phone.
Dugan glared at her, then sighed and punched Ward’s number into the phone on the conference table.
“On the speaker, please,” Anna said sweetly, and suppressed a smile as Dugan jabbed the speaker button.
“Are you nuts?” Ward asked, ten minutes later.
Dugan looked at Anna. “I get that a lot.”
“Seriously,” Ward said. “You can’t go around making up your own laws, even if it is the high seas.”
“They’re not our laws,” Dugan said. “They’re laws of the sovereign Republic of Liberia, and
Phoenix Lynx
and well over half the hostage ships fly the Liberian flag. It’s all legal.”
“Laws you influenced and—”
“Give it a rest, Jesse,” Dugan said. “The US and UK and every other nation tries to influence other countries’ policies all the time. How else did corrupt shitholes like Yemen and Somaliland become so cooperative about taking captured pirates when no other countries want to get involved?”
“Those were
government-to-government
deals, and you know it. Not greasing some minister’s palm.”
Dugan scoffed. “Which means there were a few more layers and some fancy bookkeeping involved before the money got in some minister’s pocket. The US probably paid about a hundred times what we did, so there’d be a bit left to spread around to make the common folk happy. I think you’re just pissed because we’re better at this than you bureaucrats.”
“Dammit! You’re jeopardizing an ongoing operation.”
“Am I?” Dugan asked. “As I see it, our failure won’t hurt you a bit, but if we’re successful, it will damn sure help you. On the other hand, a rescue op on the
Luther Hurd
alone, followed by the continuation of the ban on ransoms, leaves over three hundred seamen in the hands of very pissed-off pirates. Isn’t that about the size of it?”
Ward didn’t answer, and the silence built.
“Look, Jesse,” Dugan said, “I know you’re doing what you have to do, and no one wants to see you get
Luther Hurd
back more than I do. But what I’m proposing won’t hinder that at all. And as I see it, it’s our only chance at getting everyone back. All I’m asking is that you provide us as much intel as possible.”
Ward still didn’t speak, and Dugan began to think he’d hung up.
“Anna?” Ward said, at last.
“Here,” Anna said.
“What’s your take on this?” Ward asked.
Anna sighed. “My take is that Tom and Alex are both certifiable, but that doesn’t mean they’re wrong. I can’t see any other solution.”
“All right,” Ward said. “I guess when you get right down to it, everything they’re proposing occurs well beyond the jurisdiction of either the US or UK anyway, so there’s not a damn thing we can do about it. I’ll tell you what I know, such as it is.”
“Great,” Dugan said. “We can start now. What can you tell us about their organizational structure?”
“Best we can tell,” Ward said, “there are between fifteen hundred to two thousand active pirates, divided into gangs, roughly along clan lines. The gangs form alliances and work together as necessary, but that changes relatively frequently. For your plan to work, you’ll have to spread your net pretty wide. I have a chart that shows the various clan relationships. I’ll email it to you.”
“Thanks,” Dugan said.
Alex spoke for the first time. “Agent Ward? Did I understand you to say there may be as many as two thousand pirates at sea?”
“No, two thousand total,” Ward said. “And I emphasize that’s an
estimate
. Ninety percent of those guys are holders, with the rest attackers. They’re sort of the rock stars of pirates, for want of a better term. They’ve had some military training. They take all the risks and get much larger cuts of the ransom. Also, each group has a first-boarder, the first one aboard the ship. He gets an even bigger cut of the ransom, and sometimes a bonus.”
“Basically, the varsity,” Dugan said.
“Yeah,” Ward said. “Evidently they’re arrogant pricks. They’re excused from holding duty and spend their off time ashore, chewing khat and bragging. A lot of them have escaped from Kenyan prisons or been caught at sea and disarmed and released. They’re pretty contemptuous of the Western navies, but seem terrified of the Russians.”
“Understandable,” Dugan said. “I doubt the Russians worry overly much about due process.”
“They don’t care about bad press, either,” Ward said. “That’s pretty much the sum of my intel on the pirates.”
“You left out the most important point,” Dugan said. “Time?”
“Honestly? Not a clue. But as long as al-Shabaab isn’t murdering people, the navy’s holding off to refine rescue plans. The more complacent and sloppy the pirates get, the better for us.” Ward paused. “But understand this, Tom. If an opportunity presents itself, we’ll take it. In two minutes or two months, and regardless of what’s going on with
your
plan.”
“I wouldn’t expect anything else. Thanks for the help.”
“You’re welcome,” Ward said. “Now you can return the favor. You know Ray Hanley, right?”
“I doubt there’s anyone in the industry who doesn’t. Why?”
“Because he’s been crawling up my ass daily about the lack of progress of getting his people back, supplemented by calls from what seems like every elected official in the great state of Texas. I also have it on good authority that he’s inquiring about Somali interpreters and airstrips in Kenya and Somalia.” Ward sighed. “He’s about to do something stupid and there’s nothing I can do about it. He’s a force of nature.”
“And you’re telling me this why?” Dugan asked.
“Because your harebrained plan is orders of magnitude better than whatever harebrained plan he’s concocting,” Ward said. “And yours has the added advantage of taking place a long way from my plan. Let’s invite him to your party.”
“He’s not exactly a team player, Jesse. He doesn’t want to lead the band, he wants to
be
the band. Besides, why join us? Our focus isn’t
Luther Hurd
.”
“No, but I can sell it to him as a necessary diversion, and if I don’t do something, he’ll screw things up for both of us,” Ward said.
“I don’t know,” Dugan said, “Hanley can be—”
“Agent Ward, this is Alex Kairouz. Tell Mr. Hanley he is most welcome to join us.” Alex shot Dugan a pointed look. “And tell him to bring his checkbook.”
Ray Hanley, force of nature, arrived in London the very next morning on a nonstop redeye from Houston, all five foot seven and 180 pounds of him. He sat now at one end of the conference table, an unlit cigar jammed in the corner of his mouth, as he glared at the speaker phone in the middle of the table. Dugan sat at the opposite end of the table, and Alex and Anna flanked them on either side, all listening to the latest intel update from Ward.
“And there’s been a huge increase in traffic out of Eyl as well as Garacad and Hobyo, all main pirate ports,” said Ward’s voice from the speaker. “It’s beginning to look like some sort of major pirate offensive, and it’s very unusual for them to be coordinated to this degree.”
“What does that have to do with anything, Ward?” Hanley asked.
Ward’s exasperated sigh was audible through the speaker. “I don’t know, Hanley,” he said. “It may have an impact, so I think we need to stay on top of it.”
“Maybe this ‘offensive’ is what the
Luther Hurd
snatch is all about,” Dugan suggested, ignoring Hanley. “To draw Western naval presence to a high-profile target and clear the field for more hijackings.”
“Except that al-Shabaab and your regular pirates don’t get along,” Ward said. “Make no mistake, it’s the terrorist angle that’s drawing all the official attention. If
Luther Hurd
had been hijacked by garden-variety pirates, I’m sure the US Navy would be there alone.” He paused. “No, al-Shabaab is doing this for their own reasons. The others may be taking advantage of it, but that’s just a sideshow.”
Hanley interjected himself back in the conversation. “Well, whatever’s causing it, having the damn pirates out in force will help our operation.”
“Ah … I don’t think I want to hear about that,” Ward said.
Anna smiled and reached across the table to the speaker phone. “Goodbye, Jesse. And thank you,” she said, and disconnected.
Dugan looked down the table at Ray Hanley. “I think you need to tone down the attitude, Hanley. Ward is helping us, after all.”
Hanley took the unlit cigar from his mouth and smiled. “He works for the government, and that makes him a bureaucrat in my book. And I have a standing policy of never cutting a bureaucrat any slack. They shovel BS on a daily basis, and you have to question everything that comes out of their mouths.”
Anna stiffened.
“Present company excepted, of course,” Hanley added. “Besides, Ward brought it on himself. He wasn’t telling me a damn thing about what was happening on
Luther Hurd
until I forced his hand by putting out feelers for Somali interpreters and intel on airstrips and whatnot.”
“That was a ruse?” Alex asked.
Hanley snorted. “Of course it was a ruse.” He looked around the table. “Y’all think I’m a dumbass? I know I can’t mount a rescue operation on my own. And those murdering al-Shabaab bastards don’t want a ransom, and the government wouldn’t let me pay it if they did, so the navy’s the only option. I just wanted Ward to let me in on the plan, which he did.” Hanley smiled. “He even told me about your little party.”
Dugan looked puzzled. “If you got what you were after, why join us?”
“Plan B,” Hanley said. “I didn’t have one. I figure if the navy boys screw the pooch and there’s anyone left alive on
Luther Hurd
, y’all’s plan is my only shot at getting them home. Besides, we need to do something about these damned pirates.”
There was a lull in the conversation, broken by Dugan.
“Right. Where were we when Ward called? Oh yeah,” he said, looking at Alex. “Where do we stand with the Liberians?”
“They’re set to expedite the flag change on Mr. Hanley’s
Marie Floyd
, and to issue letters of marque for both
Marie Floyd
and our own
Pacific Endurance
.” He smiled. “There was a bit of delay, since no one in the Liberian Ministry of Transport had ever
seen
letters of marque and reprisal. I had to get our solicitors to dig out the history books and cobble one together. However, they assure me everything is quite legal.” He smiled again. “All according to recently enacted statutes.”
Dugan nodded and turned to Hanley. “How about your end?”
“
Marie Floyd
is eastbound, in the Arabian Sea. I got word to her this morning to divert to Muscat, and I reckon she’ll be there inside of two days.” Hanley shrugged. “It’s not too tough to change from US to Liberian flag. It’s going the other way that would be a problem. Besides, between y’all greasing things on the Liberian side and my Washington contacts pushing on my side, there won’t be any trouble. Of course, everyone sort of figures I’ve got a screw loose, paying to reflag a ship that was already on her way to scrap.”
“We’re happy to have her,” Alex said. “Odds are much better with two ships.”
“I’ve still got doubts if we can do it, even with two ships,” said Hanley.
“We’ll have to,” Dugan said. “We can sacrifice two old, tired ships, but remember it’s a long shot as to whether the insurers are going to make us whole. We have to survive this financially, come what may.”
Hanley nodded as Dugan continued. “What about the riding crew? You sure these guys are up to it? Maybe I should get some of my—”
“Dammit, Dugan! Give it a rest,” Hanley said. “I been using Woody and his boys for twenty years. They can do everything we need done, and they’re bringing all the electronic gear with them. Besides, I left ‘em my plane so they could fly straight into Muscat.” He looked at his watch. “They’re already on the way.” He looked back up at Dugan. “You let me worry about my boys, you just worry about these friggin’ Russians of yours.”
“Look, Hanley—”
“Gentlemen,” Anna said, “and I use the term loosely. Do you think you two could stop comparing penises long enough to allow us to finish our discussion?”
Dugan and Hanley looked indignant. Alex suppressed a smile and changed the subject. “Speaking of planes, Thomas, when are you leaving for Muscat?”
“Tomorrow morning,” Dugan said. “I’ll use the time before the ships arrive to start rounding up material. I don’t want to stay in port any longer than necessary.”