Scott had already grabbed the next in line and gave John the look that told him not to interfere. John stepped over to the right as Scott brought the next in line and held him there. Scott looked at the rest of the men on the deck as the one he held cried quietly. His eyes were dark with anger. He started the same speech. “With the responsibility of fighting against those that would do evil, you failed to protect Natalia Berona. You knew this would happen and yet allowed her to go to her death. We charge you with her death, and the others who came before her. You are found guilty by the Queen Bitch’s guard. Your failure disgusts me, Aeternitatem.” Scott never stopped looking into the eyes of the men on the ground as he pulled his Glock and shot his captive, then pushed the body overboard.
Surprising John, Pete grabbed the next in line. Gone was the vapid youth and before him stood a man. A man who understood that which was right and the results of doing wrong in this world. If it hadn’t been for Bethany Anne’s grace, he might have eventually ended up killed for his folly. He never wavered when he took Scott’s place. Holding the man with his left hand he spoke the ritual that would happen twelve times. Every team member sought to participate.
Each one would say nearly the same thing. Something that was later written down by Frank and became the final words many heard over the next century. Pete started his evocation, “With the responsibility of fighting against those that would do evil, you failed to protect Natalia Berona from evil. You assholes knew this would happen and allowed her to go to her death. We here, the peers who live, eat and breathe protection, charge you with her death, and for the others who came before her. You are found guilty by the Queen Bitch’s guard. You are unworthy of this life. Aeternitatem.” His shot rang out.
Natalia Berona was followed in death by the security team of Sheikh Robban Rahid. All but one had been killed by Bethany Anne’s security team. It was a solemn occasion that cemented the role of the Queen Bitch’s Guard. They had a sacred trust that encompassed the protection of Bethany Anne, and the protection of the innocent.
At the end, all stood as Bethany Anne said a prayer over Natalia’s body and they watched it slide beneath the waves.
They still had a lot of the crew to review and most of them were found to be guilty of knowledge, but could not leave the boat. Bethany Anne used her ability to require the truth. Seven more were executed for their crimes, this time by Bethany Anne.
The rest were mind wiped and had implanted suggestions that Bethany Anne was the new owner and the Sheikh had sold the boat to her before disappearing. She would get rid of this crew as soon as possible. There was no way she would be able to man this craft without help so she was stuck with this solution until another one presented itself.
They needed to deal with the boat and the SEA AXE before taking it into American waters. They turned the huge sea craft towards the Bahamas and sent an order to the SEA AXE to join them. It was helpful that the captain had left the communications console unlocked, so Bethany Anne didn’t have to interact with him.
She had kept the captain alive for the sake of expedience. She needed a new one, and fast. She called Frank and gave him instructions to go ahead and make the calls to the potential crew he had already profiled.
Dan had considered what needed to happen on op success and had worked with Frank to pull together a good group of potential crew. They would have to hire a pilot to fly the crew down to the Bahamas on the company jet. Bethany Anne wanted ex Navy, seeking those older with more experience.
They would hire a few crew for boat upkeep, but this one and the ‘sea taxi’ were going to be renamed and modified eventually. Right now, they needed to continue looking like a yacht for the super rich. Considering that’s what it really was, it wasn’t too hard to fake it. But she wanted crew that would know how to make something look pretty, but have bite.
She considered her options and realized she was completely out of her league. Hell, Dan was out of his league. None on her team had water experience to speak of. When your yacht is one of the hundred largest in the world, people pay attention to it.
Well, she would talk to Ecaterina. She had handled the retrofit for the airplane with Bobcat. Maybe she would have enough experience to try and deal with this as well.
16
Atlantic Ocean, 3 hours from Nassau
Bobcat knocked on the door to the captain’s day cabin. It was a pretty nicely outfitted room with a table and four chairs. He stepped inside when Bethany Anne told him to come in.
She had tried to wash the black paint off of her face. He smiled a little, she missed some by her ears. She looked frustrated.
“You need something?”
She looked up at him and smiled, “Yeah, you know anything about the so-called ‘White List’ as maintained by the Paris Memorandum of Understanding on Port State Control?”
Aw, fuck. She was pulling him into conversations about the flagging of this vessel.
“Ha! I can see on your face you have a clue.” She grinned like she just got lucky and was about to give him the monkey sitting on her back. She kicked a chair in his direction. That was a plain enough command. He grabbed it and sat down.
“Looking to see about registration of the boat?”
“Yup, got it in one. Well, this one and the other, at least. I’ve read enough to know that we will be operating them as pleasure only, not commercial. Well, I can’t see offering charters on these things, can you? Considering I’m planning on putting weapons and military gear on it, I can’t imagine the insurance costs if a charter blew up.” She smiled at that. The insurance on a three hundred million dollar yacht was going to be pretty significant.
This shit was going to eat into her income like crazy.
Good thing the veiled threat to the Saudi family went well. The family decided that selling the boat to her was the better decision out of the options arising upon Robban’s death.
Bethany Anne’s group had plans in place in case the Saudis decided to try and blackmail them or renege on the deal.
Bethany Anne needed to see if there was anything she could do to make some money with this and the other ship. This yacht already had two landing pads and one could handle Shelly, she considered just selling the other.
“Have you considered if you need to rent time or provide assistance to another one of your companies? Having it flagged as pleasure only would likely open you up for questions, if not getting the ship impounded until the questions get answered. Better to just go commercial optional from the beginning.”
She screwed up her face in disgust; he was making sense and threw out the porthole the little she had figured out from research so far.
He continued. “So, best choice is probably one from the Red Ensign Group. In particular, the Cayman Islands, Gibraltar and the Isle of Man. Probably close to 80% of big yachts are flagged and those three are the most often selected. Factors influencing your choice can include in no particular order, prestige, tradition, history, international recognition of high standards and adherence to the Large Yacht Commercial Code. They have ready availability of a large number of qualified surveyors, good consular services and navy. They are known for their commercial confidentiality which would be pretty important for us.”
She started nodding in agreement. Bobcat was starting to warm up to the conversation. He knew it would be a headache and it only touched on the areas he usually dealt with. “The Red Ensign Registry with the largest number of yachts is the Cayman Islands Shipping Registry, they’re generally considered the best in service.”
She looked like she had made a decision. Great! He could be out of here in a few seconds. She looked over at him with that ‘cat just ate the canary look.’
“You know Bobcat, you’re just a wealth of information I didn’t know you had. I appreciate you taking over the review and research into this problem. Here, I’ll leave you the captain’s cabin to use while you track down all of the answers.” She got up quickly and patted him on the shoulder as she left
the room and closed the door.
He looked around; she had left the monkey in the room with him.
Fuck!
Jacksonville, FL - USA
Captain B. Thomas, always B and not Bartholomew, was sitting on his sofa drinking a Bud Light. He didn’t even have the TV turned on. Hell, the sun was over the yardarm somewhere, right? He was frankly bored and ready to go crazy.
He was ‘released from Active Duty’ over two months ago and afterwards he had been given a recommendation to take early retirement.
He had made the mistake of voicing his feelings about the mentoring program that all four branches used to bring back high-ranking officials for war games and other tasks. Some of those tasks included training at the military colleges.
All of that he could get behind. It was the fact that these guys (and one gal, to be fair) were also serving on the boards of large military defense contractors getting paid even bigger bucks. He had always felt it should be an either or situation. They should go for the consulting or the military.
He felt sure that most of the mentors probably policed themselves appropriately and honorably. The fact that NO ONE wanted a forced requirement to share just how much everyone was paid and fought hard to keep the knowledge from getting out was a serious problem. He felt, strongly, that either there was a problem, or others were wanting everything to stay the same for the future when they got there. That it was to ‘protect the existing opportunities’ seemed a crock of shit to him. What, these men (and woman) that put in so many years for their country were all going to fail to support the United States in the future? Not likely. They should all have the backbone to be up front with what was going on.
His telephone rang. He considered ignoring it. He didn’t need to talk with another salesman who wanted to sell him something useless. He listened to the second ring and looked at his beer. What the hell else did he have going on? He picked up his phone and hit the answer button.
“Thomas here.” His voice was commanding without being overbearing. It made you stand up straighter without realizing you were doing so.
“Mr. B. Thomas?” The voice on the other side of the phone was an older voice, but seemed to be strong yet. He also didn’t call him Bartholomew, that was a major plus already. He reached over and grabbed a pencil and marked a single line in the right column. At the top of the left column was his first name. The top of the right column just had the letter B. The left column had twenty seven marks, five groups of five and two extra. The right had the single, new mark.
“That’s right, what are you selling?” He took his second pad. It had five columns marked ‘land, stocks, medical, time share, and misc.’ He got ready to put a mark in the medical column. It was a fair guess with the seller sounding older.
“My name is Frank Kurns. I’m ‘selling’ a job with an elite agency as a captain for a significantly sized vessel and sea taxi. Crew to be pulled from Navy’s best. Interested?”
Thomas added an additional column and labeled it ‘Job’. He marked the column. Seeing how this was the first one in two months it seemed worthwhile to continue the conversation.
“With the Navy?”
Frank put as much emotion in his voice as he could, “I’m sorry, no. From my records the chance of you going back into the Navy is about the same as the Jacksonville Jaguars going to the Super Bowl.”
Thomas laughed, “Yeah, well, you have my attention now. That you know this means you are not who I thought you were.”
The voice on the other end of the line sounded amused, “Who did you think I was?”
“A telephone salesman selling medical insurance or something like that.”
It was Frank’s turn to laugh. “Ok, that’s fair. It wasn’t like I tried to get you through the normal means. I can assure you that we do have a good medical plan. Probably better than the Navy’s.”
“Oh, why is that?”
“Well, to be frank about it, our people probably need the best. This might be a non-governmental job, but I never said it wasn’t needed or that it was safe. If you’re interested, I have to get you to Miami to catch a private plane that’s going to take you and five others to Nassau tonight.
Thomas looked at his watch. “What time? I can hit the road in ten and be there by 5:00 PM at the earliest depending on traffic. The trip takes about five hours.” He might have given away a negotiation edge, but he was going crazy here and anything that needed good medical spoke of the possibility for life to be a lot more interesting.
“I’ll send your phone the address.”
“Not to be an ass, but what is the pay and incidentals for this job interview?”
“You will receive $5,000 in cash when you get on the plane. The ride to and from Nassau will be paid for. The flight there is corporate jet. The flight back if you choose to pass on the job will be commercial on American Airlines. So, if you have a frequent flier card feel free to use it then. The money should cover any expenses and your one night in Nassau. We will get your account info on the trip over and deposit an additional $10,000 before you interview.”
Holy crap! Almost 15k for maybe a day or two? He got off the couch and walked over to the sink, pouring his beer out and dropping the can in recycling. He walked back to his room and grabbed his go bag. Old habits die hard.
“Mr. Thomas?”
“Sorry Frank. I was thinking about what I needed to do for a second. I’m interested and if you will send me that address, you can plan on me being there by 5:00. Leave me a return phone number and I’ll let you know if I run into trouble.”
“Very good, see you this evening, Captain Thomas.” The older man hung up. Frank using his title didn’t sound frivolous to Thomas. It rather sounded like a promise.
He locked the door to his apartment behind him and took the stairs going down two at a time. Damn! It felt good to be living again. He was out of Jacksonville in ten minutes. He could have tried to get a flight, but American Airlines didn’t have a lot of scheduled flights and he didn’t want to dick with them. By the time he handled everything, he could be halfway to Miami.
If nothing else, Nassau would be fun to visit. But he really hoped they had a job that needed doing.
17
Miami, FL - USA
Captain Thomas wasn’t the only Navy, or ex-Navy, on the Gulfstream G550. The plane was very nice and there was a fairly exotic European lady welcoming him to the plane. When he arrived, they told him he could park his car in the hangar. There were three other cars in a line. He parked his BMW 330i next to a ‘Vette. That car had to belong to a pilot.
He was provided a nicely appointed seat done up in black leather. The leather smelled brand new. The carpet was a dark grey and the lighting in the plane was subdued with classical music playing. Everyone in the plane wore street clothes, but Navy knows Navy. His contact on the phone was right about this. He must have been headhunting for a while to get everyone here in time.
The gorgeous lady greeted him as he came up the stairs. “Good evening Captain Thomas,” her smile was dazzling, “my name is Ecaterina and if there is anything I can do to make this trip a little more enjoyable, please let me know. Would you care for a drink? The flight time is about an hour or less and there will be a dinner aboard the ship.” He asked the lady what soda she had available. He loved her accent and just wanted to listen to her for a minute. She told him they didn’t serve Pepsi products as the owner of the plane didn’t care for Pepsi, one little bit. But if he was willing to not tell a soul, she had a six-pack of Pepsi stashed on the side for her boyfriend for when the boss wasn’t on the plane.
She professionally provided an option while letting him know she was already taken. He told her he would be happy to keep her secret if he happened to find Pepsi in his glass and took his seat.
There were four others on the plane he had tagged as navy, including the pilot he could see up in the cabin. There were two gentleman in the back who were not Navy, but one he had pegged as military or ex-milita
ry and the other was an older man. He was possibly the contact on the phone this afternoon. A few seconds later a marine, if he was any judge, got on and was greeted by Ecaterina and offered a beverage. This was a very interesting flight, indeed.
Ten minutes later, the plane took off for Nassau.
Once the plane leveled out, Thomas saw the military guy at the back stand up. At the same time, small LCD monitors folded out from above each seat and turned on. There was a logo with “TQB Enterprises” in red on a black background.
“Hello everyone and welcome to the inaugural flight of the TQB Enterprises corporate jet.” Half the people had to turn in their seats to see him. “You are the first to fly who isn’t already part of the company. You are the absolute first who have flown in it since the new interior was put in. Please don’t mess it up before the boss sees it, ok?” There were polite chuckles at that.
“My name is Dan Bosse, and until recently I worked with a very clandestine agency within the US Government whose budget was so small the DOD probably spent more to procure toilets each year. My position was as an ops team lead. I was an agent in that operation for decades and lead for fifteen years. I did not leave the agency because our mission was over, it is just as bad or worse than it has been in the last thirty years. I left because I met the owner of this jet on my last op in Florida. She showed me that instead of waiting for the bad guys to do something in the USA, she was taking the fight to them. I’m tired of playing defense and I’m happy to be on offense, now.”
He pointed to the older looking man to his left. “This gentleman is Frank Kurns. Every one of you spoke with him on the phone today. He assures me that regardless of how you left the Navy, every one of you have personal ethics that set you apart. I know your security levels in the Navy, and the Marines.” With this he nodded to the last person to join the flight. “But when you break op-sec in the Navy you get the brig and maybe a court martial. In my theater of operations, you usually die.”
Kurtherian Gambit Boxed Set One: Books 1-7, Death Becomes Her, Queen Bitch, Love Lost, Bite This, Never Forsaken, Under My Heel, Kneel or Die (Kurtherian Gambit Boxed Sets) Page 54