Jamie Freveletti - Running Dark

“The tourists have guns,” he said.

Mungabe snorted. “Since when do tourists from Europe have guns?”

Talek spread his hands wide. “I cannot tell you. Perhaps the boat carries Americans? Americans sleep with their guns.”

Mungabe shook his head. “The Vulture told me the passengers are wealthy Europeans. If I had known it was filled with Americans, I would have charged more.” He took a sip of the thick, sweet Turkish tea that sat on a low table before him and contemplated this development. In truth, he was a bit shocked. No cruise liner routinely carried weapons. Especially not those so far from the danger zones. He thought it not likely a coincidence that this one did.

“The Vulture is keeping secrets from us. He must have known that this ship might be carrying weapons.”

Talek squatted down next to him. “What is in the cargo hold that this man desires so much?” Talek said.

“Medications, that is all.”

Talek frowned. “Why? Surely these medications are not worth so much?”

Mungabe pondered a moment. “Some drugs can cost one thousand American dollars per month to take.”

Talek whistled. “That’s a lot. But still. Why does he pay?”

Mungabe hadn’t really thought about it. “Who knows? The Vulture is the head of a large corporation. Perhaps the owners of the boat angered him and now he craves retribution. All I know is that he has the power to destroy the security company that is causing us so many headaches. This is one ship I will be happy to take.”

“I think we should grab the medication, too. If it is worth that much, then we can sell it just as easily as he can.”

Mungabe drank his tea without comment. It was these types of statements that convinced him Talek had no honor. He thought nothing of betraying the European. Well, Mungabe wasn’t too concerned about it either, but he tried to fulfill his contracts whenever possible. Talek had a point, though. What was in the medication that the Vulture wanted it so badly? Mungabe knew an arms dealer who was connected to all things European. He would know if there was anything in the wind about the Vulture and his so-called medication.

Mungabe shifted in his seat. The harsh sun beat on the blue sea so that he squinted with the reflection. A long stream of sweat ran down his face, followed by another, hastened by the hot tea he drank. The smells of cinnamon, cardamom, and the tangy snap of salt filled the air, scents that brought to mind relaxation. Mungabe, though, was anything but relaxed. He felt his blood beginning to heat.

“What do we do next? Our crews are out, aren’t they?” Talek said.

Mungabe nodded. He’d sent the bulk of his fleet into the Gulf of Aden, where they were engaged in various activities. Three crews charged toward two freighters off the Somali coast near Eyl, while two others were attempting to board some Japanese fishing vessels located in the Somali economic zone. All the while they did this, they were dodging the various warships from the CTG 600, a coalition of countries that had agreed to assist with security along the Gulf of Aden trade route. Mungabe focused his efforts in the gulf because ships taken there were likely to reap the highest profits. He’d sent only a skeleton crew to the Kaiser Franz, since he considered it to be the easiest of all targets to capture.

Easy, but not simple. The cruise liner sat far from the trade route. None of the small skiffs used by the pirates could reach ships this far from the Somali coast, and so Mungabe had sailed the tanker out first. The massive barge towed behind it several small skiffs and held barrels of gasoline that they’d use to refill their tanks. This far away from the safety of Somalia, anything could happen. Although he’d kept the CTG busy responding to his other activities back at the trade route, if even one carrier came this far to engage them, neither Mungabe nor his crew could do much in defense. The average carrier held an array of sophisticated weapons and helicopters that Mungabe had yet to acquire. The tanker could not outpace a carrier, and the faster skiffs would run out of gas long before reaching land. They’d end up floating on the open sea until they died.

The cruise lines knew that the pirate skiffs were ill equipped for long journeys, and so they continued to sail to the Seychelles Islands along a route that kept them far from the coast and the Gulf of Aden trade channels. They docked at several different ports along the way, and because maritime law regarding armament varied country by country, the pleasure ships carried nonlethal weapons and fire hoses only. The fire hoses were the most effective in repelling boarders, but those manning them could not be everywhere at once. Mungabe’s men knew to attack from all sides.

Mungabe thought that the cruise ship would use its various defense techniques, but, once on board, the pirates with their rifles would carry the day. He doubted that any cruise liner’s captain would order civilian passengers to fight bare-handed against armed men. Surrendering was the only way to avoid bloodshed. Thirty armed pirates could easily hold three hundred people hostage.

“Perhaps the American security company that protects the freighters also guards the cruise liner,” Talek said. Mungabe’s anger rose at the mere thought. It was well past time for him to mount a concerted attack against Darkview. He consulted his watch.

“Get the satellite phone. I mean to ask the European how the plans are proceeding on his end.” Mungabe looked at the sky. “It’s getting late. We attack again in the dark. We’ll see if those new night-vision goggles work. Just send two more boats. Get the ship to fire its weapons. I want to know what type of firepower they have and make them waste some more bullets.”

“Should we board her?”

“If you can. But don’t risk any men. Just keep them scared and put some more holes in the ship. Remember, though, we are not to sink it. We need the cargo intact. The European said he will not pay if we damage his precious medication. We will keep stinging them until the rest of the crews return. When they do, we’ll collect everyone and launch a final run. Until then keep me informed.”

Mungabe’s second assistant handed him the satellite phone. “It’s about our crew near the economic zones, the ones that were attacking the fishing trawlers. They’ve been taken captive.”

“By Japanese fishermen?” Mungabe said.

The assistant shook his head. ”They weren’t all Japanese fishermen. When the advance crew got closer, they said it looked like there were mercenaries wandering among the crew. They opened fire and killed three in our advance line. The second boats pulled back.”

Mungabe’s legendary anger surged to the forefront. “Who did such a thing?”

The second assistant raised his eyebrows. “Who else? The American company. Darkview.”

10

BANNER STALKED OUT OF THE CONGRESSIONAL MEETING ANDmarched down the halls to the exit. He stepped into the sunlight and inhaled fresh air for the first time in six hours. He turned right to the Metro, jogged down the stairs, and boarded a train to Arlington, Virginia, where Darkview kept its offices.

The building that housed Darkview had a curved design, with green-tinted windows and fully grown landscaping. Darkview occupied the second-story corner suites, which accounted for 30 percent of the building’s available space. Banner hit the staircase door and jogged up one flight, emerging at the entrance to his offices. He flung open the frosted-glass doors. Cameras placed at advantageous angles in the ceiling monitored every visitor, so Banner was not surprised when his receptionist greeted him without looking up from her console.