The team quickly advanced to clear the area of any other pirates who might be out of sight. The last thing they wanted was a panicked Somali firing in all directions. They got about halfway when a guy carrying an AK-47 did step into the street. He saw the bodies and as he grabbed his weapon off his shoulder silent bullets ripped into him and he joined them.
The team took up fire positions while Downs and Milton, still with the camera on his head, went to the front door of the prison hut. Downs drew the bolt across and opened the door. He looked inside and saw the hostages Stratton had shared the room with, minus the Dutch crew who had been released with their ship. Those who were awake looked startled at the new visitors but didn’t move at first in disbelief.
Downs stepped inside with Milton and the interpreter and they set about keeping the hostages calm and telling them that they were about to be freed. When the hostages in the other building had been liberated, they were formed into a single group and led as quietly as possible to the outskirts of the town and down towards the cargo ships.
As Stratton walked along Lotto’s street he breathed in deep to help bring down his heart rate after the jog from the jihadists’ camp. His concentration remained at a peak, his Colt at the ready to respond to anyone who might challenge him. The rain had stopped but the roofs still dripped water on to the muddy ground. The potholes that covered the street were filled with water, which he avoided to reduce the noise he made. Apart from occasional lights in the houses, the place seemed to be deserted. He wondered if that was because the word had spread that the jihadists’ camp had been attacked. It was possible the townsfolk didn’t know. The rain, thunder and the distance would have done a lot to mask the explosions.
He came to the front of Lotto’s house and stopped across the street to look at it. The dim light was on inside. He turned around in a circle. He could see no sign of any guards anywhere.
He turned back to the house, walked towards it and stepped gently on to the wooden porch. He stopped at the door. He could hear a soft voice inside. Followed by deep, gentle laughter. A man’s laughter. Lotto’s laughter.
Stratton slung his Colt and pulled his Sig Sauer pistol from its holster. He held it easily at his side. He was going to enjoy this immensely. Every time he had met Lotto in the last few days the Somali had had the guns, the manpower, the control. Now it was Stratton’s turn.
Stratton still did not feel any great animosity towards the man, which was possibly strange considering the number of times Lotto had tried to kill him. The explanation was understandable enough, though. Lotto hadn’t had any particular hatred for Stratton. His aggression hadn’t been personal. Stratton had simply begun as a commodity to the pirate commander and later turned into a threat to the rest of his assets.
Stratton reached for the doorknob. More gentle laughter came from behind the door. This time he thought he heard a lighter tone mixed in with Lotto’s. A woman’s.
Stratton turned the handle of the door slowly, pushed it open and stepped inside, moving away from the opening. The big pirate commander sat across the room from him with a glass in his hand and looking very relaxed. Right up until the moment he recognised Stratton. He almost let go of the glass he was so astonished. He looked hard at Stratton, from his boots to his face. His eyes locked on to Stratton’s cold eyes for a long time. But then his qualities as an old fighter came through and he regained control of himself.
Stratton looked from the Somali to his companion.
It was the Chinese girl.
Her smile faded as she looked up at the Englishman. She didn’t have quite the same control as Lotto and lost the liquid in the fine crystal glass she was holding.
All three remained silent for what seemed a long time.
Lotto’s eyes went to his pistol, within arm’s reach on a side table next to the single lamp that illuminated the room and the open bottle of whisky beside it. Then he looked at Stratton. The operative kept looking at the girl but was way ahead of the Somali.
Lotto sat back and took a breath, like he had an amount of respect for Stratton’s ability to outmanoeuvre him. Like he had first-hand experience and didn’t doubt for a second that if he chose the wrong moment to reach for the weapon, he would never live to touch it. ‘Well, well, Mr Stratton,’ he said in his deep voice, sounding confident. ‘You are always full of surprises.’
‘No more than you,’ Stratton said, his comment aimed at the girl whose expression was coated in guilt. ‘So who do you work for?’
It took several seconds for her expression to change. As though she could no longer see the point in playing games. She looked at Stratton, his pistol, his fatigues and they seemed to signal an end to something. She said, ‘The Triads.’ She looked matter-of-fact about it.
Stratton smiled inwardly. He was not expecting that answer. ‘Would that explain the drugs?’
She nodded. ‘Jimlen and I never sailed to Somalia. We got dropped off by a Chinese cargo ship. I was making the delivery.’
‘What delivery?
‘The quarterly supply.’
‘We’ve been in business a long time,’ Lotto cut in.
‘A long time? You two?’ Stratton said. The girl didn’t look old enough.
‘Not her,’ Lotto said. ‘This was her first trip. The Chinese have been dealing through Somalia since before you were born.’
Stratton knew the Triads were international organisations but he knew nothing about a Somali drug connection. He thought again how drugs and arms smugglers used similar routes and techniques. And since nearly every terrorist organisation smuggled weapons, it didn’t take a genius to work out that providing their smuggling services to drug dealers could be a very lucrative source of funding.
‘What came first?’ Stratton asked, curious about the set-up.
‘Hijacking is not new to Somalia,’ Lotto said. ‘We’ve been doing it for hundreds of years. A couple of decades ago the Triads saw an opportunity and came to my predecessor with a business plan. In the early days we did not hijack many ships a year, only enough to transport the smaller amounts of drugs. I was a fisherman then, working for my father. When I was old enough, I joined the pirates and I watched the demand for drugs increase. That meant the need to hijack more ships. I knew that, even then. But my boss didn’t see it. He was afraid to increase the hijackings. I decided to set up my own business. That old weakling said I would bring down the wrath of the international countries on all of us. So I took over all of the piracy on this coastline. You want to know something? We always made more money from the drugs. The hijacking has always been a sideline.’
Stratton found it an interesting history lesson. ‘When did the jihadists get involved?’
‘They first showed up five or six years ago. They wanted to get involved in the drug smuggling to fund their jihad and offered me product from Afghanistan. So we began to do business. I could make you a very rich man, Mr Stratton,’ Lotto said. He took a deep pull of his drink. ‘I have bank accounts all over the world. I could set one up for you by tomorrow morning. How much do your people pay you?’ He smiled. ‘How does five million dollars sound to you?’
Stratton eyed the man with contempt. ‘When did you begin smuggling weapons for terrorists?’
‘There’s no money in that. I do it to keep them happy.’
‘Was it your idea, combining their weapons with the drugs?’ Stratton asked.
Lotto grinned. ‘Of course. It is just politics, my friend.’
Stratton looked at the girl again. ‘So how did you end up in his jailhouse along with the rest of us?’
‘The Triads didn’t like Lotto using the same system he used to move the drugs to smuggle weapons. They sent me to tell him not to do it any more.’
‘I don’t like being told what to do by anyone,’ Lotto grumbled. ‘So I punished her.’
‘Why did you go aboard the cargo ship?’ he said to the girl.
‘I heard about the hand-held missiles when I got here. I knew it would lead to p
roblems. Your kind of problem. I got a message to my people to confirm Lotto was putting the missiles on the ships with the drugs. That was when Lotto put me in his jail.’
‘I put you in the jail because you accused me of cheating your Triad bosses.’
‘I was also ordered to check the amount of drugs you were putting on board. You are cheating the Triads.’
‘Cheating. A stupid word in our business. As long as everyone makes money, what is the problem?’
‘If you went to China and told them that, you wouldn’t live very long,’ she said.
‘And so let them come here,’ he said. ‘They would not because they are afraid to. Why do you think I keep Al-Shabaab happy? The Triads could not take on those guys. Not here in Somalia. And that’s why I had to punish you some more. I wanted to send them a message. I’m sure you enjoyed it just a little. Isn’t that why you came back?’ Lotto asked.
She turned to Stratton. ‘You’ve come for the jihadists, haven’t you?’ she said.
‘That’s all over,’ he said. ‘The camp and the missiles have been destroyed. We have the ships and the hostages will be free by now.’
Lotto opened his mouth slightly in horror at the news. His world was crumbling around him and it was all this man’s fault.
‘You avenged your friend?’ she said.
Stratton didn’t answer, he simply stared coldly at her. But she read a hint of satisfaction behind the veil of pain.
‘I’m glad for you,’ she said.
Stratton knew he should regard her with the same cold contempt he had for Lotto but still he could not. He suspected there was more to her story. ‘You don’t seem like the Triad type,’ he said.
‘I’m not a Triad. My father was.’
‘I liked working with your father,’ the Somali cut in.
‘Too much unfortunately,’ she said, not looking at him. ‘The Triads found out that Lotto and my father were cheating them. That’s how I ended up here. If I did not deliver the drugs and report on the weapons, they would kill all of my family. My mother, my sister and brother. Even my brother’s wife and children. I had no choice.’
‘I am feeling very bad about all of this,’ Lotto said. ‘There’s a lot I have been blind to. I am going to give you a lot of money too.’
Stratton wondered if the man really expected anyone to take him seriously. And did he really believe that after this little talk he was simply going to walk out of here? Stratton hadn’t decided what to do with the pair of them. He would take them down to the beach and introduce them to Downs. London could decide.
‘When you beat her, did she tell you I’d been on the ship and seen the weapons?’ he said.
‘I don’t think so,’ Lotto replied.
‘He’s lying,’ the girl said. ‘He asked me where I had been. I didn’t tell him at first. But the pain was too great and I thought he would stop. So I told him. He didn’t stop. He asked me where you had been. I told him the truth. And he continued with me.’
Lotto looked like a cornered animal.
‘So my next trip would’ve been to the Al-Shabaab camp?’ Stratton said.
‘In business terms, that was a long time ago,’ Lotto said and shrugged. ‘Now we can start again. I’ll give you twenty million dollars US. I have money here. Lots of it.’
He reached for a large cardboard box. Stratton stiffened a little, but the Somali kept moving like a sloth and pulled the box over, tipping dozens of bundles of hundred-dollar bills on to the floor.
‘It’s all yours. There are more boxes filled with money. I have euros and pounds. You too,’ he said, picking up a bundle and offering it to the girl. ‘Take it all.’
She didn’t move, her eyes fixed on his.
Lotto looked at Stratton for a sign that he was winning the operative over. He saw none.
‘Why’d you come back?’ Stratton asked the girl.
‘For my family. I had to finish my work.’
‘And Lotto?’
She was still looking at the Somali. ‘To kill him if I could.’
Lotto could feel the walls closing in.
Stratton was enjoying the man’s pain. ‘A nice idea,’ he said. ‘But we’ll have to leave that possibility for later. Right now you’re both coming with me.’
She looked from the pirate to him, but not with anger in her eyes. Only sadness.
‘I cannot go with you,’ she said. ‘If I do, I will fail and my family will die.’
Stratton appreciated her dilemma. But there was nothing he could do about it. The call was far above his station. To complete his job, he needed to deliver them both to Downs on the beach. From there on it was up to London.
The girl could see the operative’s resolve. She knew what it looked like well enough. ‘You know what they’ll do, don’t you?’ she said. ‘They’ll let him go because he is a Somali. But the British will be happy to deliver me to the Chinese. Me and my family will die and he will live. All of my pain will have been for nothing.’
Stratton had to agree that her assessment was most likely correct. But he still could do nothing about it.
She slowly stood and faced him. ‘You know how I am by now. You know I would rather die. I can’t come with you. You will have to kill me. But please, I beg you, please kill him too.’ Tears began to roll down her face. ‘Please kill him,’ she said softly. ‘Do that for me. He is an animal and enjoys making people suffer.’
Lotto grabbed his moment. He threw the bundle of dollar bills in his hand at the table lamp and dived for the gun. The lamp toppled and went out before it hit the floor and the room went black instantly.
But Stratton knew the precise point that Lotto was reaching for, and adjusted the end of the barrel of his pistol to allow for the length of Lotto’s arm and fired two shots. The Somali got to fire one, the muzzle flashes illuminating the moving figures for a split second. A body hit the floor hard.
Then silence.
Then a dozen long seconds.
The floor creaked like a foot had stepped on a worn floorboard. A switch flicked and the porch light came on.
Stratton stood in the doorway with a finger on the light switch, his gun in his hand. Lotto lay still on the floor, his eyes half open, blood seeping from a hole in his temple and another in his cheek.
The girl was kneeling beside Lotto with the Somali’s gun in her hand and pointed directly at Stratton.
Stratton didn’t have the Sig aimed at her but it wouldn’t need to travel far to line her up. But even so, she still had the drop on him. It would be a close call and he would probably take a bullet. If he was lucky he would live, and if not he would die.
He looked into her eyes, evaluating her. He knew from experience that she had an ample supply of determination. He also needed no further convincing that she would rather die than let her family become victims of the Triads. And the bottom line was he did not care enough about her paying for her crimes to risk his own life to see it through.
But she had one more surprise in store for him.
She lowered the gun and let it hang in her hand by her side. ‘I cannot kill you. Not because you saved my life so many times, although I am grateful for that. Because each time you saved me you saved my family. And I don’t believe you will waste all of that karma and kill me. I won’t go with you and I will kill myself if you try and take me.’
Stratton wasn’t entirely surprised by her decision. His gut instinct had been that she would not shoot him. He had failed to figure out her occupation but he had more or less nailed her character.
He sighed, holstered his pistol and shrugged. ‘What the hell. I think the world might even miss one crazy Chinese girl like you.’
She smiled slightly and put the pistol on the table.
‘How will you get out of here?’ he asked.
‘I have a few ideas,’ she said, walking up to him.
She stood close to him, looking into his eyes. She put her arms around him and gave him a hug, her face against his chest. It felt c
ompletely natural for him to return the gesture and he wrapped his arms around her. For a brief moment, amid all the madness, he felt his heart soften.
She looked up into his eyes again, placed the palm of her hand on his face and gently kissed him on the cheek.
‘Your friend’s death was not your fault. You are who you are. And things happen because of who you are, good and bad. I think you have much more good in you than anything else.’
She let go of him and walked out of the door.
He stood on the porch and watched her go down the street and disappear into the darkness. He looked back at Lotto lying in a pool of blood surrounded by his money. That will be a good find for someone, he thought.
He switched off the porch light and headed away.
When Stratton stepped on to the beach, he found Downs standing with his hands on his hips looking at the ships like he was deciding what to do next. Stratton could see the hostages all sitting in a group, waiting patiently. They looked more than content to wait all day. They were under the protection of the British military and on their way home. At that moment in time, life for them did not get better than that.
One stared at Stratton in the poor light, certain he had seen the man somewhere before. He asked the fellows either side of him and together they scrutinised Stratton until one of them twigged who it was. The news spread quickly and they were soon all in agreement: it was the one who had escaped and they had thought must be dead.
One of them whistled to catch Stratton’s attention. When he looked at them, the collection of European and Asian faces cracked into broad grins, the first in a long time for some.
Stratton nodded at them, somewhat embarrassed.
‘Brought your own fan club with you this time, did you?’ Downs asked.
‘Well, you know how it is. You reach my level and those are the perks.’
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