Richard Johnson - Deadly Cargo - A Chilling Naval Terrorism Thriller

“Did they open the container?”

“Not while the Plovers were there. Oh, it sounded like a horrible plight they were in.”

“But they never saw the container opened?”

“No, sir. They got out of there as fast as they could and counted themselves happy to leave the container behind, no matter what was in it.”

Josh had what he needed. “Well, Nigel, I want to thank you for your help. Good luck on your voyage.”

“Oh, you’re welcome. When you see the Plovers, will you tell them that I did as they asked me to? And give them my best.”

“I’ll do that. Goodbye.” Josh disconnected the call, sat back and looked at the notes he had been furiously scratching. Then he dialed Curt Delamo again.

“I need one more thing.”

“Sure,” Curt answered, “what is it?”

“I need all the intel I can get on a Dan Plover. Wife’s name is Nicole. Two children, Jacob and Cadee. They live someplace in Seattle, and they’re sailing a Gemini 105Mc catamaran named Whisper . I need to know everything I can about them and their boat.”

“I’ll go to work on it. Do you think you’ve got a lead?”

“Yeah, maybe. Anything on the hazmat team yet? I’ve been on the island and can brief them about what they’re going to find in the way of body count, structures and the general layout of things. I think I located the delivery mechanism. It’s a bogus flashlight. I left it on the dock where the team can see it when they arrive.”

“Good,” Curt said. “I’ll alert them.”

“Tell them that the toxin isn’t working exactly the way Groschenko planned. Might be the hot tropic temperatures have altered the bacterial activity or something. But the dead bodies on the island died real fast, not the lingering illness we’ve been led to believe. Tell the team to be ready for something real grotesque.”

Curt groaned. “Well, if the toxin has altered in that way, it might have changed in other ways, too. Like maybe it won’t die off when there’s no live host.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of. McCarthy’s the best biotoxin man we have. Let him know what we’re thinking and that he’s going to have to be looking for mutations, or at least altered states from what we originally thought.”

“Will do.”

“By the way, there’s apparently one more body that I didn’t see. It’s on the other side of the island from where I landed. Seems Nicole planted a hot kiss down the windpipe of the chief pirate with a 12-gauge flare.”

“Good for her!”

“One other thing.”

“What is it?”

“Do you think you can arrange for an image satellite to search for a boat?”

“Can do. What’s the target?”

“A red and black runabout powered by a couple of large outboards. It was at the island when the Plovers were there, but it was gone when I went ashore this morning. If Husam al Din made it off the island on that boat, he might have another delivery device with him. I’ve got a bad feeling.”

The sun was high when Husam al Din opened his eyes, and his hand fell instantly to the duffel bag. He rose and stepped into the cockpit, looking east toward the sun. It was late, but even a late prayer was better than he had been able to do for the past couple of weeks. Jacob was at the helm. “Your father trusts you to guide the boat?”

Jacob looked at Husam al Din with dark, angry eyes then turned to look forward and did not answer.

“Ah, I see. You are a defiant one.”

Jacob grabbed the binocular, stepped out of the captain’s chair and walked forward to the bow, then proceeded to scan the horizon ahead. Husam al Din followed, and Jacob reacted. “Stay away from me,” he growled without a hint of fear in his voice.

“Your father would order you to your death. And you would follow that order?”

Jacob turned to face the bearded man, and spit his anger. “My father would die before allowing any harm to come to us. And, yes, if he couldn’t protect us, he would have my sister and me deny you the pleasure of having us for yourself. It’s called courage, mister. Something you probably know nothing about. You’re just a slimy, no-good drug-dealer, kidnapper and murderer.”

“You are wrong. I am a man on a mission of mercy, to save my people from a corrupt infidel nation.”

“Yeah, well if you’re on a mission of mercy, why did you hold a knife to my mom’s throat?”

“I am a desperate man, and I will do whatever it takes to accomplish my mission.”

“Well, you just stay away from me, or I’ll go overboard. I’ll die before I’ll let your filthy hands touch me. And that will reduce your power over my father.”

“You have a strong spirit,” Husam al Din said with a note of admiration in his words. “Too bad you are a kafir. Now, I need a place to pray and I want to be alone.” He reached into the bag and pulled out his prayer rug and laid it flat, facing east, on the wide deck. He placed the dagger across the top edge, then stood erect with his head bowed and began the Salaat.

“Perfect,” Jacob retorted, and he turned away from his captor and followed the narrow side deck along the port rail back to the cockpit. “You just stay right here and be alone all you want.”

Dan and Nicole were coming out of the cabin when Jacob stepped down into the cockpit. “Dad,” Jacob whispered, “can’t we do something?”

“What are your thoughts?” Nicole asked. Jacob, at 17, was nearly a man, and had a good head for problem solving.

“We could activate the DSC piracy message on the radio.”

“A good idea, son,” Dan whispered. “But the VHF is good for only about twenty-five miles. We’d have to hope for another DSC equipped boat to relay the message to the Coast Guard. The thing I’m afraid of is a reply coming in over the radio. It would let that guy,” – he nodded toward the front of the boat – “know that we’ve called in the posse. No telling what he will do if he feels threatened.”

“How about the EPIRB,” Jacob suggested. “It’s quiet. No voice reply to let him know we’ve activated it, and eventually somebody will show up to rescue us.”

“I wonder what he would do if a plane suddenly started circling overhead, or a rescue boat pulled up next to us?” Nicole asked. “What did he say to you, up there on the bow?”

“Said he was a desperate man on a mission of mercy to save his people from an infidel nation.”

Dan and Nicole exchanged anxious glances. “A Muslim extremist,” Dan whispered. “He’s no pirate or drug-dealer. He’s a terrorist!”

Nicole finished his thought. “Guys like him are suicide bombers. They’re not afraid to die, in fact, they’re looking forward to it. They expect a big reward in heaven if they die in battle. He’s got nothing to lose, and that makes him incredibly dangerous.”

All three of them looked through the forward cabin window toward the bow. Husam al Din was kneeling on his prayer rug, facing east. “What are we going to do?” Jacob asked.

“Take him to Miami,” Dan said. “My first priority is to keep my family alive. Anything we do to make him think we’re working against him will put you guys in jeopardy.”

“But,” Jacob argued, “if he’s a terrorist, we can’t deliver him to Miami. Personally, I’d rather die than help him kill other Americans.”

Dan placed a hand on his son’s shoulder. “You have the heart of a hero, you know that?” He turned to Nicole. “Eventually we’ve got to feed him. Do we have any poison onboard?”

She wagged her head. “Sorry, but I neglected to bring the cyanide. Besides, if that guy has any brains at all, he’ll make me sample the food on his plate before he eats it.”