Dangerous Alliance, page 16
“Any intel about the kidnappers?” Nate worked a six-inch knife along a whetstone as he prepared one of his favorite weapons.
“Nothing definitive yet. They’re believed to be a different faction of al-Shabaab than the hijackers.”
Nate finished sharpening his knife and ran the blade along his forearm to test its sharpness. “I hope I meet them.”
***
After the Ventrusco docked in Port Safaga, the Bedlam Bravo team stopped at the top of the gangway where Luigi waited for them. “Thank you for your hard work while onboard. I don’t know where you are going, but good luck.”
“Ag, man, we make our own luck.” Gerhard shook Luigi’s hand, followed by the others. Nearby, a British Royal Navy Sea King helicopter waited, its rotors moving in the breeze.
A crewman helped them board. “Not sure who you guys are, but the captain said to pick you up. The HMS Swansea was diverted from our mission by the Admiralty, so must be something important.”
Trevor shrugged. “We go where they send us. Not always important, but interesting all the same.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Liberian Freighter Krumen
Outside Cambodian Waters
A rusted freighter chugged through the evening’s calm waters toward Sihanoukville. Thousands of stars twinkled in the heavens above Cambodia, while a sliver of a new moon ventured forth. Concealed in the hold, a shipment of weapons, an advance payment by the North Korean government to Somali pirates in exchange for much-needed oil.
The Krumen, flying a Liberian flag of convenience, had departed from the North Korean port of Wonsan seven days ago on its journey to Sihanoukville. Upon arrival, Ambassador Soo would hand over the weapons to a representative from the pirates.
He leaned over the rail, dropped pieces of paper, which twirled toward the frothy water and disappeared. I hope Jung Gi and the boys are okay. I miss them. Soo wiped the tears trickling down his face. I miss them so much.
He heard soft footsteps approach. He turned as Kim approached, carrying two glasses. “Tea.”
Soo sipped the lukewarm beverage and grimaced. “No sugar?”
“They didn’t bring any.” Kim waved toward the water, emptying his glass over the rail. “Should have drunk the water—room temperature, but better than this.” He faced the ambassador. “Is something the matter?”
“No. Yes—I don’t know.” Soo wrung his hands. “I—perhaps later.” He turned and headed to a door leading inside the freighter.
***
The following morning, Soo and Kim met for breakfast. They grabbed a table in the corner, away from the crew. Several men stared at them, one running a finger across his neck, and uttered a chilling laugh.
Soo shook his head as shivers ran down his spine. “I don’t like the crew. No respect for us.”
“Never mind, Ambassador. We hired them to transport our weapons. Once they’re delivered, we won’t use this crew again.”
“You’re right.” Soo pursed his lips and squinted. “I deserve better.”
Kim pushed his plate away. “The food is worse every day. Do you suppose someone is trying to poison us?”
Soo dropped his fork with a clatter. “What? Do you think so?”
“Relax.” A smile creased Kim’s face. “I’m trying to lighten things up. We’re getting too serious. If you’re finished, let’s go for our morning walk around the deck.”
Dressed in a white jacket and black trousers, Soo slipped on his sunglasses. Kim followed, wearing his usual black attire.
They weaved their way along the deck, stepping through trash-strewn areas. Reaching the stern, they leaned against the rail, watching the white foam in their wake.
Soo reached into his pocket and pulled out a small gift-wrapped package. "I almost forgot. This is for you."
Kim took the offering and bowed. "What is it?"
"Open the package and find out."
With a grin like a child receiving a present for the first time, Kim removed the wrapping. Inside was a gold-colored box. He opened the gift and removed the contents from a cushion of red velvet paper.
Soo clapped his hands with delight as Kim donned a pair of Ray-Ban sunglasses, a perfect match for those perched on his own nose.
They continued their walk when a crewman rushed up to them. “Captain wants you. Now. Come with me.” The man turned and stormed away.
Soo and Kim glanced at each other. “Wonder what he wants now?” Kim shook his head. “Another bribe?”
“He’s received plenty of our country’s hard-earned foreign currency. We’ll have to send more of our workers abroad to earn more.”
They scurried to catch up with the crewman. Entering the wheelhouse, they found the captain waiting, hands resting on his hips, a scowl etched upon his scarred face.
He pointed a long claw-like hand at Soo. “You. No tell crew what to do. Eat food like everyone else.”
“I am Ambassador Soo. You will address me in the proper manner. My country hired you to transport our cargo without interference.” A newfound courage pushed Soo forward. “This rust bucket will be fortunate to complete the voyage.”
The captain stepped back at Soo’s onslaught, a brief smile showing broken teeth. “So, the pudgy man has a little bite. Well, Ambassador, on this ship I make rules. My crew not servants.” He glanced at Kim. “You have own servant—make him do jobs.”
Insolent man. Back home he’d go to prison—or worse. “I shall report your behavior to the Supreme Leader.”
“You do that.” The captain snapped his fingers. “We have other business. You remain in hold.”
Four crewmen appeared, two grabbing each Korean. They manhandled Kim and Soo out the door, force-marching them onto the deck.
Down in the hold, they were shoved into a dark, windowless room and the door slammed shut. The twisting of a key in the rusty lock echoed over the laughter of the four men.
Soo pounded on the door. “Let us out of here. At once!” He worked the handle up and down.
Kim tried the door but it didn’t budge. “Ambassador, save your strength. We’re locked in and nothing we can do about our situation at the moment. We will wait for our opportunity and take action.”
Soo turned and pressed his back on the door and slid to the floor. “How can you be so calm? This can’t be happening.”
Kim continued his search of the room. “I can’t find anything. The room appears empty, except for us.” He returned to Soo and sat on the floor next to him.
“My life—my life is in ruins.” Soo slapped the wall with the flat of his hand. “Ever since Wook took my family, nothing remains as before.”
“What do you mean about the Supreme Leader taking your family? Why?”
Do I tell him? What’s the difference?
“I grew up with Wook and we were best friends. He even attended my wedding.”
“What happened to make Wook take your family?”
“He wasn’t pleased with how I represented the country to the Chinese—said I gave in to them without pushing for our birth rights.”
“What did he do?”
“He took my boys and is holding them as ransom for me to do his bidding. Even worse—he sent my precious Jung Gi to the Chongori correctional facility.” Sobs racked Soo’s body. “His own sister!”
Kim’s eyes bulged at the revolution, but he remained silent as Soo wept.
After several minutes, he regained some composure. “Please don’t tell anyone about my secret. No one outside Wook and my family is aware of my connections.”
Of course, Nari knows—she knows everything.
“Your secret is safe with me.” Kim noticed the ship slowing, the vibrations from the overworked engines coming to a halt. “I think the ship is stopping. We’re still far from land—must be another ship approaching.”
Unable to check the time, they had no idea how long the ship remained stationary. After some time, the engine vibrated.
Craack. Craack. Craack.
“What?” Soo grabbed Kim’s arm.
Muffled screams rose in intensity as additional AK-47s opened up. The anguish of the injured diminished as they appeared to succumb to their wounds.
“Perhaps a mutiny or maybe pirates have attacked. We’ll know soon.”
A large explosion rocked the ship as it gathered speed. The ship righted itself, and continued on its journey.
A few minutes later, voices echoed in the hallway. Soo jumped to his feet, banged on the door, and yelled. “Let us out.”
The key screeched in the lock. The door yanked open, four armed crewmen stood in the narrow passageway. “You can come out now. Our private negotiation with a business associate is finished. No more competitor.”
The men grabbed Kim and Soo by the arms and hurried them along the corridor and back to the captain.
“Welcome back, my friends.” He spat on the floor. “You help cook, make tea for crew. When finished, I want new weapons. From you.” The captain waved a hand in dismissal, and the crewmen took them to the galley.
Grease splattered the floor and work surfaces. Soo and Kim helped the cook prepare the tea. As before, they used lukewarm water.
Soo grumbled to Kim. “This is beneath us. We’ve paid them to deliver us to Sihanoukville. What does this mean for us? What will the Supreme Leader say if I relay the captain’s demand? What about my wife and children?”
“Calm down, Ambassador. We should be at our destination in a day or so. Once our cargo is unloaded, we will be finished with the captain and his crew.”
“I still don’t like this.”
***
Two days later, the Krumen pulled into a berth in Sihanoukville. Their cargo wouldn’t be transferred until after dark, so Soo and Kim headed ashore for a prearranged meeting.
A tuk-tuk deposited them in front of the Orange Supermarket on Ekareach Street. They paid the driver and walked along the street, Kim using shop windows to monitor for any possible surveillance.
Oblivious to Kim’s tradecraft, Soo hurried from one storefront to another. Music blared from speakers anchored in the walls and the cacophony added to the din caused by tourists. The aroma of spices, grilled meat, and seafood wafted on the warm air currents.
Kim guided Soo into a crowd waiting to cross the street at a traffic light. Tired of waiting for the light to change, people surged forward, taking Kim and Soo with them. Noting their destination on the other side of the street, they stopped at a nearby shop.
Satisfied they had no obvious tail, the men dashed through a myriad of tuk-tuks, motor scooters, and wandering pedestrians before entering the Holy Cow Restaurant.
Out of breath, Soo slipped his sunglasses to the top of his head and sat at a table by the door. Kim shook his head, indicating an area at the back of the restaurant.
As they approached, Soo recognized a man seated at the table. Dacar.
The Somali stood and gave a short bow to Soo and Kim. He turned to another man at the table and made the introductions. “Ambassador Soo and Kim, this is my second-in-command, Sahid.”
After the four men sat, a waiter brought tea and departed. Dacar acted as host and served the others. He lifted his cup in the air. “To a successful conclusion of our business.”
Soo returned the gesture while the others remained stoic.
“Ambassador, since you are here, am I correct in assuming the shipment arrived?”
“Yes. The captain of the Krumen can verify this or I can show you.”
“You may introduce us to the captain. Sahid and I will sail with the ship when she departs tomorrow.”
“When should we expect the first oil tanker?” I must complete this arrangement to show Wook I’m doing my best.
“As we agreed, the ship will be handed over in about two weeks.” Dacar wriggled his right hand in the air, open palm. “A second tanker is being tracked now and should be in our possession soon.”
Soo stared at Dacar. “We expect you to uphold your commitment.” Or my family is finished.
“Don’t worry—you’ll receive your oil, as long as the weapons keep flowing.” Dacar pushed his chair back and stood. “Let’s go to the ship. I want to inspect the weapons.”
***
Sahid dry-fired several weapons. He didn’t know the firing pins had been sabotaged and smiled when he pulled the trigger and received a satisfying click.
Dacar looked over a few opened weapon crates and nodded at the Koreans. They left the ship, feeling as if a weight was lifted from their backs. A warm and starry night, they strolled through the port.
“It’s been a long day, Ambassador.” Kim put a hand on the ambassador’s shoulder. “Let’s head to the hotel.”
Soo yawned. “I can’t wait to return to Pyongyang and inform the Supreme Leader we’ve completed this stage of the mission.”
“It will still be two days before we arrive. There are three flights before we return home.” Perhaps the freighter will be approaching Somali waters before the pirates check all the weapons. Soo doesn’t know what I’ve done.
***
A heavy-set man, his face hidden behind a latex clown mask, lowered the night scope. “Follow them.”
The unmarked, battered van edged along the quay. The two Koreans seemed to pay no attention to the vehicle until it sped forward.
Tires squealing, the van skidded to a stop. The side door opened. Four men wearing balaclavas jumped out. They grabbed Kim and Soo and bundled them into the vehicle. The door slammed shut, the driver floored the accelerator. The well-tuned engine revved and raced through the port’s gate and into the night.
The man in the passenger seat glanced at Soo and Kim. “We meet again.”
Soo stared at the man. “You!”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Kidnapper’s Camp
Outside Kidi Faani, Somalia
A lion’s roar shattered the pre-dawn calm. Baboons screeched and sought safety in the trees.
Jamiila Shamso listened to the morning sounds as the sun rose. Unable to sleep, she’d laid awake for the past two hours. I miss my children. My handsome Abuukar and beautiful Bayda. I long to hold them in my arms.
She struggled to her feet, picked up the blanket, and walked over to the corner. Four young girls remained asleep on the concrete floor, using their blankets as pillows. Jamiila covered them with her blanket. Sleep my darlings. Block out the nightmare we are living.
One of the girls whimpered before settling. Jamiila stepped away and tiptoed to the water bucket. Almost empty. After quenching her thirst, she picked up the bucket and approached the open doorway.
Jamiila crossed the compound toward the well. Chickens pecked at the dust for seeds and goats rummaged among a rubbish heap for something to eat, while two guards maintained a watchful eye on her.
“Where are you going?” Asad, the leader of the raiding party, appeared next to Jamiila.
“We-we are out of water. I wanted more for the children.”
He took the bucket from her. “I will help you—this time. In the future, let the children draw the water. There’s a small wooden bucket attached to a rope, which is lowered, filled, and pulled back up. The contents are poured into the larger ones.”
After Asad finished filling her bucket, Jamiila thanked him.
“No problem. Remind the girls in your building not to leave the compound. Or you.” Asad pulled an index finger across his throat.
She shuddered. “I will remind them. What do we do for breakfast?”
“This isn’t a hotel. You must help the other women prepare the food. Go under the tree—they will show you what to do.” Asad walked away.
Jamiila took the bucket to their building and joined two women by the lone tree in the center of the compound. “Subax wanaagsan (good morning). Asad sent me to work with you.”
The women glanced at each other before introducing themselves. “Subax wanaagsan. I am Maryan. This is my sister, Khalli.”
“Hello, Maryan and Khalli. Pleased to meet you.”
“Thank you.” Khalli, the taller of the two sisters at almost six feet, stepped forward and shook Jamiila’s hand.
A moment later, Maryan followed. “We shall teach you how to survive in the camp. Feeding the men is one of our most important tasks.”
The three women sat on a nearby bench under the massive damal tree. Its broad, overlapping branches and foliage provided the perfect shelter to escape the intense sunshine and heat.
Khalli laughed. “Along with washing their clothes and cleaning their buildings. Some of the men think we should bed them, too.”
“Jamiila, Asad must be obeyed at all costs.” Maryan glanced at Khalli and motioned for her to be quiet. “He is my son, and I love him. But, he’s become a bit distant since joining al-Shabaab.”
“Be careful around the men and try not to be alone with any of them.” Khalli’s eyes seemed to darken as they almost closed. “One of them tried to rape me. He would have except I pulled my knife and threatened to castrate him and feed his parts to him for breakfast.”
Khalli clasped her arms around herself and shuddered. “I never told Asad—he would kill the man.”
“All of them are a bit deranged.” Maryan put her hand on Jamiila’s arm and smiled. “Asad must like you. You’re the first captive he sent to work with us.”
“Do you think he will let me go?”
“He’s not married—yet. Perhaps, he’s considering you for himself. You’re about the same age.”
“I have two children. They are still at the Jujubba Refugee Camp.”
“We must wait to find out what he’s thinking. Allah will guide him. Come, we’ve talked enough and the men will be wanting their breakfast when they return with some fruit.”
As Maryan spoke, several guards walked past, empty sacks over their shoulders and machetes in their hands.
Khalli and Maryan showed Jamiila where they kept food supplies in the closest building. Although musty inside, the floor remained dry. Onions and strings of hot peppers hung on hooks from the rafters while several bags contained rice, sorghum, chickpeas, and corn. Different baskets held tomatoes, carrots, and eggs. The aroma of various spices, including cumin, cardamom, cinnamon, and sage floated on the warm air currents. In the darkest corner, ten covered pitchers held fresh goat milk.
