The Somali Deception Episode I (A Cameron Kincaid Serial) (7 page)

“You most likely had not even
left the Heathrow tarmac.
 
How did
you know?” asked Alastair.

“The man in London was General
Ibrahim Dada,” said Pepe.
 
“We
recognized him straight away.”

“Ibrahim Dada?” asked Ari.
 
“He goes by Admiral Dada now.
 
If there were a pirate king, he would be
the man.
 
What is he doing in
London?”

“Admiral eh,” said Cameron.
 
“Well he told us he was a diplomat.
 
I don’t think he realized we knew who he
was.”

“I have heard this before,” said
Ari, “high-level pirates working with the Somali Government to cut out the
low-level competition.
 
How did you
recognize him?”

“A past life,” said
Alastair.
 
“The boys and I met up
with Dada’s lot outside Mogadishu when we were active.
 
He was a warlord calling himself General
Dada then.
 
He became Fleet Admiral
when he took over the Somali Marines.”

“The Somali Marines?” asked
Cameron.

“Marines as in fishermen,” said
Alastair.
 
“At least that is how
they started out.
 
While Dada and
his cronies were battling it out inland, Russian and Chinese trawlers moved
into Somali waters.
 
You know the
story.
 
At first, the fishermen just
banded together to defend their fishing waters, cutting off the trawlers with their
speedboats.
 
Soon they were
organized into four main groups,” Alastair pointed to different areas of the
coast, “The National Volunteer Coast Guard here in the south, the Merca Group
above them, here below Mogadishu, the Somali Marines based out of Haradera ran
the coast north of Mogadishu, all along here, and the Puntland Group close to
the horn here.
 
The big fisheries
caught on to pay to fish, and wasn’t too long before the fishermen had a new
lucrative business.”

“Why sell your fish at market
when you can sell them at sea,” said Cameron.

“Exactly,” said Ari.
 
“That is when Dada took notice.”

Alastair continued, “Dada took
over the Somali Marines and expanded business.
 
Under his leadership, they evolved to be
the most powerful and sophisticated of the pirate groups with a military
structure, an admiral, vice-admiral,
a
head of financial
operations and of course, Dada appointed himself as fleet admiral.
 
Hell he has a bloody navy to go with his
army.”

“Yesterday’s warlord is today’s
pirate,” said Cameron.

“Today’s diplomat,” said Pepe.

“I suppose,” said Cameron.
 
“And the people of Somali.”

Alastair frowned, “Those that
have not been recruited by Al Shabaab are at the mercy of the warlords as
always.
 
Starving, desperate, a lot
of the crimes that actually go reported are the desperate poor or rogue
soldiers not following orders.”

“Or street thugs,” said Ari.

“Well, once they take up the
sword,” said Alastair, “they’re all thugs in the end.”

“I don’t know about that,” said
Cameron.
 
“Anyway, Alastair, you
said the Kalinihta was a bit south of where you would expect.
 
We had the coordinates, why would you
say that?”

“I meant for a hijacking.
 
These pirates essentially operate as
cartels with established territories.
 
The Kalinihta first headed toward Mogadishu then south.
 
I thought the port a bit odd
choice.
 
Well, that was before I
knew that the message came from Dada.
 
Now it makes perfect sense.
 
As Ari said, high-level pirates like Dada have been working with the
Somali Government to cut out the low-level competition.
 
So far the Merca Group has been pretty
much forced out and Dada’s people have moved in,” Alastair drew his finger down
the coast, “Dada’s message said Abbo Mohammed of the National Volunteer Coast
Guard took the Kalinihta.”
 
His
finger stopped on a port town south of the location of the Kalinihta
.
“Their territory is pretty specific to Kismayu,” he then
dragged his finger back up to the reported coordinates, “the yacht came to port
in a territory that belonged to the Merca Group and is now predominately run by
the Somali Marines.”

“That explains how Dada knew so
quickly.
 
The Coast Guard are
expanding their operations northward into his new territory,” said Cameron.

“And he does not like it,” said
Alastair.

“That also explains why the men
in the garage wanted us to stay away,” said Pepe.
 
“I am sure Dada was more than happy to
pass along this information.”

“Hell we’re doing him a favor,”
said Ari.
 
“That’s absolutely
beautiful.”

“Strange bedfellows, surely
gentlemen, regardless of where they are spreading out landside, the attack in
the Seychelles is consistent with the International Maritime Organization
records,” said Alastair.
 
“The Coast
Guard have been seen out that way recently so this is only more reason to
believe that we will find the Kalinihta there.”
 
Alastair saw Pepe’s brow drop and added,
“and that is where we will save Christine.”

“Great,” said Cameron.
 
“Let’s get to it.”

“Right,” said Alastair.
 
“Listen, I have a confession.
 
I didn’t want to mention this until the
two of you had rested.”

“Mention what?” asked Cameron.

An array of framed photographs
covered the sidewall of the game room.
 
Portraits and vistas featuring Alastair posing with resort guests, many
recognizable celebrities, at various locations around Laikipia.
 
“You see that photo second from the
left,” said Alastair.
 
“The one with
the elephant cub.”

Pepe pointed toward one of the
photos, “Here?”

“No,” Alastair approached the
wall.
 
“This one,” he gestured at a
photo of himself and another man kneeling on either side of an elephant cub.

“Yes, so,” said Pepe.

“That is a picture of my friend
Nikos Stratos,” said Alastair.

“You know Nikos?” asked Pepe.

“Well enough.
 
He has stayed at the resort more than
once.”

“So you know him,” said Pepe.

“I know him, and his father
Demetrius.”

“And you called his father,”
said Cameron.

“And I called his father.”

“And?”
asked
Pepe
.
 
“Has the Kalinihta
been reported missing?”

“No.
 
The yacht still has not been reported
missing, though Demetrius did not seem surprised to hear she was.
 
He has given us substantial funding.
 
Nikos’ father would like to see everyone
safe.
 
As he puts it, he is greatly
disturbed by the circumstance, yet finds relief in that we are able to assist.”

“Sounds a bit cold,” said
Cameron.

“He is Greek, I assure you he is
not cold.”

“The Kalinihta still has not
been reported missing,” said Pepe.
 
“Langdon’s people would have contacted him as well.”

“Cunning yes, not cold.
 
You do not get to where Demetrius
Stratos is without holding a few cards.
 
To report the Kalinihta would be to tell the world that he, a shipping
magnate, could not even be trusted to care for his own personal craft.
 
I am sure he already had a team
assembled before I called.
 
We are a
convenience.”

“True enough,” said
Cameron.
 
“Do we have a place to put
this funding to use?”

Pepe smiled, “I already know the
answer to this.”

“You mind sharing.”

“Some ballistics boys,” said
Pepe.

“A couple of Ari’s mates,” said
Alastair.
 
“You’ll like these
guys.
 
He leaned his shoulder
against the wall and glanced down at the floor, lowering his voice, “They’re
blooming crazy.”

Cameron winked at Alastair,
“Great, and when do we head out to see these fellas?”

“We are to meet with them
tonight, after dark,” said Alastair.
 
“So, I had cook prepare a meal.
 
I think we grab a bite now.
 
Put our heads down for a kip until dusk,
then
head to their bunker.
 
They already
know the target and have started the logistics.”
 
Alastair then peered at Pepe.
 
“Brother we’ll have your sister safe at
sun up.”

Pepe raised his brow and
conjured a smile.

“Did you say bunker?” asked
Cameron.

“Heh, yes,” said Ari.
 
“That is why we leave at dusk.
 
They don’t take well to daytime
visitors.”

* * *
* *

Laikipia Plateau

An array of dishes had been
prepared in the main house and then brought to the large table on the cottage
veranda.
 
Bowls of fresh fruits and platters
of vegetables orbited a large centerpiece tray that held a mixed grill of lamb,
beef, and chicken smothered in long green beans.

Though there were only four men
eating, there was enough food for eight.

“I had cook put this together,”
said Alastair.
 
“I think you will
find the cuisine sufficient.”

“This spread is a feast,” said
Cameron.

“Well cook does a fine job
regardless.
 
Yet when he heard he
was preparing for the Dragon Chef, he may have gone a bit overboard.”

“You told him the Dragon Chef
was coming?” asked Cameron.

Alastair stared deeply into
Cameron’s eyes and held his face straight until Pepe, for the first time since
arriving from New York, became his usual jovial self with a blurt of laughter.

“Are you daft?” asked
Alastair.
 
“If I told him such a
thing the entire staff would be running for the hills.”

Ari took a seat at the table,
“They would have been expecting a giant Komodo lizard man I would imagine.”

Cameron slightly frowned and let
his cheeks pucker as he sat, “What is this in these little glass jars?”

Beside each plate was a small
jar filled with a mix of what appeared to be diced apples and vegetables.

“That is a house specialty,
spiced courgette chutney,” said Alastair.

“Really courgettes?” asked
Cameron.

“Courgettes, tomatoes, onions,
garlic, and ginger with a mix of brown sugar and spices.
 
I figured this would get your
attention.”

“This is good,” said Pepe,
already sampling a jar.

“I think you will find the wine
to your liking as well,” said Ari.
 
He filled the glasses in front of the four, all now seated.
 
“The vines grow not far from here.
 
Though you probably do not want too much
for now.”

Pepe raised his brow, “Well we
do not want too little.”

“I’ll drink to that,” said
Alastair.
 
“Cheers.”

“Cheers,” the other three echoed
as they touched their glasses together.

The four men at the table were
veterans of shadow wars, hidden and silent.

Ari had his training in the
Israeli forces, then later Mossad.
 
The other three men were at one time Legionnaire super commandos, and
later served clandestine as well.
 
Cameron was not alone in Corsica, home of the Second Foreign Parachute
Regiment.
 
Alastair and Pepe were
members of the special elite unit as well, the elite of the elite.
 
The training that almost killed Cameron,
had bore the same toll on the other two, and all had landed a Dragon badge, the
badge of a commando, and then these men had gone further with Cameron.
 
The Green Dragons at this table were
part of the same team they had gone from being the tip of the fighting spear on
the battlefield to global undercover operations, from the cites of the new
fallen eastern bloc to the newly democratized Mongolia.

A little wine was good.

Regardless of their native born
nationalities, Alastair, Pepe, and Cameron had been in the French Foreign
Legion, so of course they cold easily pass the hours with drink.
 
For a brief time, Pepe was smiling,
eating, drinking, and as the tangerine bush of Laikipia, extending from the
veranda out to the horizon, began to give way to darker hues of rust, and the
cotton white clouds creamed to vanilla then in time gold, Cameron could almost
forget why they had traveled to Kenya.
 
They could be in Laikipia merely to see their old brother-in-arms once
again.
 
Yet, as the evening waned,
Cameron could see that if a pause lagged too long between a story or a joke,
the corners of Pepe’s face would begin to drop.
 
They would not be going in anytime soon
to earn the rest they needed for the mission to come, rather they would fortify
their friend.
 
Each time there was a
gap, Cameron was alert to fill the space.
 
That is if Alastair, also sensitive to the pain behind Pepe’s veil, did
not fill the void first.