Richard Johnson - Deadly Cargo - A Chilling Naval Terrorism Thriller

Cadee broke into tears and fell to her father’s side, hugging his neck. “I don’t want anything bad to happen,” she wailed.

“None of us do,” Dan consoled her. “But if this man kills your mom, for any reason,” – he turned to face Husam al Din – “I will no longer cooperate, and he’s going to have to kill me next because I won’t let him come after you unless he kills me first.” He pointed a finger at the bearded man, “I hope you understand that, mister.”

Without any change in his expression, Husam al Din slipped his forearm around Nicole’s neck, laid the blade against her cheek and pulled her backward out through the door to the cockpit. “You and you,” – he nodded toward the children – “sit there.” He pointed to the dinette. Then he looked at Dan, “You get up and come out here.”

Jacob and Cadee looked at their dad, and he nodded. “Everything will be all right.” He rose to his feet, climbed the steps into the main salon and then ducked out through the companionway door.

“Sit there,” Husam al Din commanded, and Dan slipped into the captain’s chair. “Now, we will go to Miami.”

“What about your boat?”

“That is not my boat. I do not care about it.”

Dan looked up at the sails, then at the apparent wind gauge and turned the wheel to adjust coarse. “Why don’t you just take our boat and leave us in that one? Eventually, someone will come along and find us. Just give us some food and water, and take our boat.”

“I know a lot of things, but I do not know how to sail. I will keep you alive only for that.”

Dan nodded. “I see. Are you going to hold a knife to her throat all the way to Miami?”

“If I must, I will.”

Dan turned to face the man. “Look, I already told you that I will take you to Miami, and my word is good. I have no interest in interfering in your business, if you’re running drugs or whatever it is. My only interest is in keeping my family safe. So you can put your knife away. We aren’t going to fight you. But I can’t sail this boat by myself. Everybody has a job to do to make the boat operate, and if you want us to take you to Miami then you’re going to have to let us do our jobs.”

Husam al Din held his arm around Nicole’s neck, the blade to her face, but Dan saw his eyes start to shift and knew the man was thinking. After a moment, he relaxed his arm just a bit. “You are a man of the book?”

“A man of the book?” Dan asked.

“You believe in the Bible?”

“Yes,”

“You believe in eternity?”

“Yes, of course.”

“And you believe that your family will be together in eternity?”

“That is one of our beliefs, yes.” Dan responded, setting Buzz to steer, then turning to face the bearded man. “And do you believe, as well?”

“There is no God but Allah. That I believe.”

“I don’t care what name you use for God. Allah is fine with me,” Dan said.

“Most of your people do not believe.” Husam al Din looked at Dan.

“That’s their loss,” Dan said.

“And you are not afraid to die, or to have your family die?”

“Death is part of life. Without it, we cannot return to God. No, I’m not afraid to die. But I don’t want to die tonight.”

“That is what separates us.” Husam al Din stared at Dan with black eyes. “I am ready to die right now.”

“I want to live as long as God will allow,” Dan said, “but when He wants me to come home, I will go.”

“If you are a believer, then you should be a man of your word,” Husam al Din said, with no change of expression.

“I am.”

“Will your family follow your commands?”

“I don’t command. That is not the way of a good husband or a good father. But when I make a decision for the family, they all support me.”

Husam al Din relaxed his arm from Nicole’s neck and removed the blade from beside her cheek. “Then make a decision for your family and make sure they understand it well, and you all may live.”

Nicole rushed to Dan’s side and he swallowed her in his arms, leaving Husam al Din standing at the far side of the cockpit. “We have been through enough, already,” Dan said to their captor. “We do not want any more trouble. I have made a decision for the family. We’ll take you to Miami, and my wife and children will support me in this decision.”

“Very well.” Husam al Din sat on the far cockpit bench, facing Dan. “Then go about your business of sailing to Miami. How long will it take?”

“I’ll do some calculations. We weren’t intending to go there, so I don’t know the numbers without checking the charts.”

“Then check your charts and make your calculations. I will wait.”

Through the night, they sailed north toward the Yucatan Channel, strong current boosting them along and adding miles to their progress. Nicole and the children occupied the bed in the forward stateroom, but none of them slept. With the cabin light off, they lay on their backs and watched the stars through the deck hatches, and Nicole whispered a bedtime story to calm their nerves – her own as much as the kids’.

“With a sailboat,” Dan explained, “it is impossible to say exactly how fast we will be able to travel. We still have more than 700 nautical miles to Miami. Right now we are making almost eight knots, but the wind can change.”

“You have an engine.”

“We do,” Dan admitted, “and about forty-five gallons of fuel, between what is in the tanks and in the jerry cans. On flat water and not fighting a current, at the most efficient cruising speed, that will take us about 350 miles at seven knots.”

Husam al Din did the math in his head. “So, if you can sail at least half the time, and you have to use the motor the other half of the time, we can still make it all the way to Miami without refueling.”

“Under perfect conditions, we can make the trip in roughly a hundred hours – a little over four days. But there are no guarantees. We may end up facing contrary currents, or another storm could catch us. We may lose the wind altogether and not have enough fuel for the whole trip.”

“You speak too much of problems.” Husam al Din frowned. “You must learn to be more positive.”

“I’m just telling it like it is.” Dan shrugged. “I don’t want you to be disappointed in our progress and thinking that I’m doing something to intentionally hold us back.”

Husam al Din rose from his seat and stretched. “You are an honest man?”

“My father taught me to be,” Dan answered.

“I must sleep. I want your word as an honest man that you will not do anything to slow our progress toward Miami. On the life of your children.”

“My honor is good enough,” Dan bristled. “You have my word. I am not interested in any harm coming to my family.”

“I will sleep there,” Husam al Din pointed to the dinette seat. “I want to be close.”

“The table can be lowered to make a bed,” Dan offered.

“Not necessary. My comfort is not a concern.”

Dan noticed that the man with the beard never let the duffel bag get very far from his grasp. Everywhere he went, even to use the bathroom, the duffel bag went with him. Now, he took it into the cabin and placed it on the floor beneath the dinette table as he stretched out on the bench seat to sleep. A curious question kept nibbling at Dan: I wonder what is so important in that bag?

Just before dawn, Dan heard the bearded man snoring deeply. With Buzz tending the steering, Dan quietly removed his sandals and stepped through the companionway door. He saw the duffel bag under the table, not more than six feet away from where he stood watching the man sleep and listening to his heavy, slow breathing. Without a sound, Dan slowly knelt to the floor. Beneath the dinette table, he had a clear view of the sleeping man’s face, and now the bag was less than four feet away. With a little shift in his position, he could almost reach it.