Elmore Leonard - Djibouti

"Waiting to be ransomed," Dara said. "I have the names of the ships and where they're from. The voice-over will say the going rate for ransom payments is between three hundred thousand and three million. For the Saudi tanker, hijacked three months ago with a hundred million dollars of crude oil, the pirates started out asking twenty-five million, but have come down considerably. We'll have to find out what they're after now." Dara said, "There's the Blue Star, an Egyptian ship and…I think the one straight ahead is the Biscaglia. Pirates attacked the ship and the paid security guards jumped over the side."

"You not armed," Xavier said, "you don't hang around." He said, "Now here's one of those planes nobody in it."

"Drones," Dara said. "Unmanned Aerial Vehicles. They fly over at night and take pictures of the hijacked ships."

"If they know the ships are here," Xavier said, "send in some special forces people and take 'em back."

"I'd like to show here if we get the chance, ransom money being air-dropped."

"We seen them miss once."

"Helene said Billy thinks the airdrop is for show. Proof the ships are being hijacked for money. But people behind the pirates-Billy says lawyers and warlords, clan elders-are all getting a cut."

"How's Billy know that?"

"Helene says he makes phone calls. I'd love to shoot another money drop," Dara said. "The ransom's always paid in hundred-dollar bills, none printed before 2000. Somali shopkeepers don't trust older bills."

"And we cut to Eyl," Xavier said, "to Sayyid Ali Yaro in front of his shop full of expensive men's attire. Also watches, canned goods, automatic weapons and, down the street, Ali Yaro's car lot, full of black Toyotas."

"He's saying in Somali," Dara said, "It's true, pirates are his best customers, they don't bother to bargain. They buy high-priced outfits and aftershave. Beautiful women come here to meet our pirates."

A Somali on the street appeared on the screen. He's speaking English, taking his time to be clear, saying, "It surprise me the sea robbers don't fight among themselves. They know how much each one is paid according to his importance. They don't harm captives, the crew of the ships. We know this, because we see no bodies wash up on our shore."

Dara said, "Next, an open-air barbecue where the restaurant is preparing meals for the hijacked crews. Goat, on a spit."

"Goat wouldn't be bad," Xavier said, "they called it something else."

The screen showed Eyl from the beach and streets of flat, tin-roof structures, some framed from scrap lumber, doors open to show the entire store, and rubble in all the streets, a junkyard, houses rebuilt over crumbling remains; but a human feeling in the colors, a cement house painted yellow, another blue. The camera moved up a street of hovels and beyond, to homes among palm trees.

"The upper end," Dara said, "Idris Mohammed's digs, a tan brick California bungalow that goes on and on, with a patio. The sound of the generators must drive him nuts."

"The man has enough power," Xavier said, "to light New Orleans. Look at the big TV dish up there."

"Idris said, 'Shake a leg with your shooting so you have time to come to my home, please.' He always says please."

"You sound like him," Xavier said. "You gonna shoot the man in his house?"

"You are," Dara said, handing Xavier her cotton bag. "Get the cars in the drive, a Mercedes and a Bentley-Harry must be here-four, no five Toyotas, all of them black." A SOMALI WITH AN AK slung from his shoulder stood close to the open doorway. He stared at Xavier. Then at Dara. Then at Xavier again, looking up at him as he stepped aside.

Watching the picture on the screen, Dara said, "Remember this guy?"

"Everybody starin at us like we movie stars."

They watched Dara enter the house, the camera holding on her as Xavier followed to sweep the room in a pan, close to dark in here, low-watt bulbs in the ceiling fixtures. Daylight from the open doorway helped.

"I shot those blue walls tryin to make out the pictures hangin there. I think they were bare-naked ladies, but it was hard to tell."

"I thought they were landscapes," Dara said. IDRIS AND HARRY BAKAR were watching an Al Jazeera newscast on the flat screen across the room, the boys having a scotch, smoking cigarettes and sucking khat, the bottle, the bouquet and a bowl of ice on the stone coffee table between them. They knew Dara was in the room.

Dara knew it.

But they stood up to watch the news for several moments before Idris muted the Arabic words with the remote and came for Dara grinning, telling her she made him so happy to see her, took hold of her and kissed both cheeks. He said, "Look who I have, your travel companion, Harry Bakar."

Harry was grinning too. He took her hands but kissed only one cheek. He smelled of cologne.

In the suite watching the computer screen she said to Xavier, "The big grins. Was it the news or were they glad to see me?"

"I think it was the herb."

"Did you talk to Harry much?"

"Just enough to think he's okay."

"We have to work on the audio, try to clean it up."

"I can bring it up. But for now…" Xavier reached over and turned off the sound.

"I liked Harry's kaffiyeh," Dara said, "the way he does desert wear, draped over his hair and around his shoulders, a casual British look with the bush jacket."

"Has that way about him."

"You think he puts it on?"

"Takes it to the edge any more he's over the line."

Dara said, "'Call me Harry, if you will.'"

"You got him down, Mr. Harry Baker from Oxford."

"I said to him, 'Isn't it pleasant to relax with a scotch while you make a pitch to end piracy?'"

On the screen Harry was smiling. So was Idris. Idris glancing at Harry.

"I had the feeling," Dara said, "there was something between them they were dying to tell me. But Harry surprised me, started talking about a new president of Somalia, elected by the legislature meeting in Djibouti."

"Get into all that, you gonna lose your audience."

"I know, but I want to quote Harry saying the new president will bring peace, once the foreign fishing companies leave the gulf. I said, 'That's the stipulation? You'll have pirates until the fishing boats go home?' He said, 'Unfortunately, yes.'"

Xavier said, "What you want with that?"

"Show how the Somalis see it. Their only way to make a buck is hijacking ships."

"Or they starve? Come on, you gonna tell your moviegoers that?"

She said after a moment, "You don't think it'll work."

"Not the way you pitchin it. Do it straight. Make a picture about guys committin armed robbery at sea. What's wrong with that? They fun-lovin 'cause they found a way to get rich, but they still criminals…only with some class."

"Change the tone," Dara said.

"The one you have in your head. Shoot what you see, not what you want to see."

"I know what I'm doing, but I sound dumb."

"You are dumb," Xavier said, "and you know better." "YOU MIGHT'VE NOTICED," DARA said, "the two buddies making remarks to each other in Arabic, then raising their eyebrows, interested in what I'm gonna say. 'Did you know we have an aircraft carrier in the gulf?' 'Really? When did it arrive?' I tell them, 'Yesterday, the nuclear-powered Dwight D. Eisenhower.' Harry goes, 'Good show.' Idris says, 'You need a giant ship with jet planes to chase my little skiffs?'

"I said to Idris, 'Is there an Islamic group like al Shabaab behind pirate activities?'

"Idris said, 'Al Shabaab, are you kidding me? They're children playing like it's olden times. They're very serious.' I told Idris I've heard hijacking has cost the owners much more than thirty million. He said, 'Yes, perhaps as much as forty million. More coming in as we speak.' I said to Harry, 'Is that right, according to your estimates?' Harry said, 'He might be a bit low.'"