Korfa didn’t remain on deck to see who won. He wordlessly signaled to Nadif to follow him, and then retreated to the relative cool of the superstructure.
“Get this to our friend in Mogadishu as soon as possible. I want it sent to the company so they know what it means to trifle with me. And have the blood cleaned up – I don’t want to have to deal with the flies.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll leave immediately. But…no disrespect…isn’t it going to increase the odds of the military getting involved? I mean, the countdown to more killings?”
Korfa shook his head, considering whether to strike his subordinate or try to explain his reasoning. He opted to teach rather than punish, so the young man would make similar decisions when the time came.
“As you know, we enjoy a certain protection from the local government, such as it is. We pay well for that, and it ensures that nobody violates the sovereignty of Somali territory – it would be considered an act of war. And as long as we don’t broadcast the executions, the company isn’t going to want to tell anyone. It would correctly be viewed as their having engaged in brinksmanship with their crew’s lives in the balance – all to gain a financial advantage. Tell our contact to make clear that if anyone leaks a word about this to the press or to any government, the entire crew will be butchered the day I find out, and the cargo destroyed, and that I’ll make a special point of targeting their ships from here on out. Whereas if they cooperate, I’ll give their ships safe passage from our group. The combination of a threat of future reprisals with more bloodshed and a benefit if they comply should keep them quiet. And our negotiating position will have strengthened.”
Nadif considered Korfa with new admiration. Besides being ruthless, he was incredibly smart. His strategy was simple and yet foolproof. Any communications with the authorities would result in everyone being killed and the nightmare happening all over again with another of the company’s ships. It was brilliant – much more so than the typical demands the simple leaders of other groups issued. This elevated the process to a new, more profitable level, at a time when the effectiveness of piracy had dropped by sixty percent due to the constant coalition naval presence in the region.
Nadif joined Korfa in smiling, and then a cry went up from the pirates on deck.
The first shark had arrived for lunch.
Chapter 5
Three weeks ago, Jerusalem, Israel
Four men dressed in expensive business suits watched the video in stunned silence. When it was over they sat back, faces drawn, and the dignified, gray-haired man at the head of the table, Jacob Weinstein, president of ARCA Shipping, leaned into his chair and took a deep breath.
“I thought these pirates always took care of their hostages,” he seethed.
“It’s true. This appears to be something completely new. They’re generally only interested in the money, and they lose their negotiating leverage if they start knocking off the hostages, so it’s usually avoided. It’s…unprecedented, frankly,” David Cohen, VP of Operations, confirmed.
“Something new? They’re killing the crew while we dawdle because you felt like it would buy us a lower ransom amount, and when they send us footage of this…butchery, all you can say is that this is something new?” Jacob spat.
“Jacob. We can’t anticipate everything these psychos are going to do. This has never happened before. We’re just playing the same game every other shipping company has had to play when it happens. It’s a cost of doing business, but you don’t want to leave any money on the table. We didn’t invent this, but we have to do the best we can under the circumstances. It’s just bad luck that we ran into the pirate equivalent of Genghis Khan…”
“You heard the translation. He intends to execute another three in” – Jacob consulted his watch – “four more days. I think everyone can agree that we need to do something. They want five million. I say we give them three, and move on.”
David shook his head.
“I disagree. If we cave, we can expect that this will become the preferred new approach for the pirates, which will lead to many more casualties over time, and far greater cost. With all due respect, we can’t just hand them millions because they went on a rampage. It sends the wrong message.”
Jacob pointed at the monitor. “The wrong message? Are you not getting this through your head? They’re going to kill three more innocent men in five days. What do you think those men would think about parsing ‘messages’? What would their families think? Good God, if this gets out…it would be a disaster. Think about the lawsuits. We’d be ruined,” he sputtered.
“Gentlemen, I think it’s safe to say that this must stay within this room, yes? Could we have a moment here? I’d like to speak with Jacob alone,” David said to the other two attendees, who nodded and rose, more than willing to comply. Jacob might be the president, but David ran the company. Jacob was a political gadfly and tremendously powerful – he’d built the network of contacts that had made the company successful over the last thirty years – but it was David who attended to the day-to-day details, and it was David who wielded the real clout.
“Of course, David. I’ll just go back to my office. Abner? Some coffee?” the stockier of the pair said.
“Sounds like a good idea. David, Jacob, I just want you to know that whatever you decide, you have my full support. This is a regrettable incident, but we need to keep our eye on the big picture, too,” intoned Abner, the Chief Financial Officer. By big picture, he of course meant the purse strings.
Once the two had left, David stood and began to pace.
“This is a more than regrettable debacle. We need to throw them a bone and call it a day,” Jacob began.
“I’m not so sure. I’m thinking that’s exactly the wrong thing to do. Let’s work this through. Seriously. There might be an opportunity in all this,” David said thoughtfully. “The ship and the cargo are fully insured, so if we had never heard from the pirates, it would be a write-off. True, our premiums will go through the roof, but they will anyway now, whether we get the ship back or not.”
“That’s the economic side, David. What about the human cost?”
“Look, you didn’t kill those men. These animals are savages. They’re doing the unthinkable, no more than common thieves and murderers. I may not have all the answers, but I know it’s a bad idea to negotiate with murderers.”
“We can’t just not pay them, David. Word would spread, and it would be the end of the company, as well as to our personal stakes. The suits would bankrupt everyone. And our reputations…”
“Word won’t spread. They aren’t going to tell anyone. They can’t afford any publicity, or the entire naval group policing the area will come down on them like a ton of bricks, and it will be game over. The coalition naval force would scorch the earth to make an example out of them. So they’re not going to talk. Remember, they’re the murderers, not us.”
“I’m not sure I like the direction you’re going, David.”
“Hear me out. Even if we coughed up the money, at this point, we would still be subject to an inquiry. People would want to know why we didn’t move faster, and whether there was something, anything, we could have done. Enter the lawsuits, this time from the families of the crew that have been lost so far. Only it would be worse, because there would be witnesses. The surviving crew.”
“So either way, we lose. How the hell did we allow this to get this far out of control, David? Why didn’t we just pay them?”
David regarded Jacob impassively, his arms folded. “Calm down and try to see the sense in it all. We have an opportunity here. One that will solve a number of issues for us. Think about Sodom for a moment.”
At the mention of Sodom, the code name for something so secret it was never spoken about, all the blood drained from Jacob’s face.
“Are you out of your mind? Mentioning…that? What the hell are you thinking? Besides which, you lost me – I’m not following.”
David lowered his voice. “Jacob
. We have a situation that will ruin everything you’ve accomplished in your entire life, and could destroy you personally as well. That would destroy both of us. It would also put an end to everything we’ve worked for, and that your father worked for. That’s not acceptable. As regrettable as it is that these crewmen have been put in this position, we can’t change that. But we cannot allow this crisis to destroy decades of effort and countless millions of investment in…changing the future. We’re too close.”
Jacob’s eyes narrowed to slits. “What are you saying, David?”
“I’m just thinking out loud. What’s been the biggest hurdle on Sod…on the project? What have we been fretting over for the last two years?”
“Viability.”
“Exactly. Providence might have just handed us a chance, here. The solution to our problems. I think it’s time to convene a Council meeting. The sooner the better.”
“The Council?” Jacob whispered the words with reverence. “What does our pirate situation have to do with…with that?”
“Everything,” David said, and then he pulled out the chair next to Jacob and sat down, speaking in hushed tones. Explaining.
Ten minutes later Jacob strode from the conference room, feeling both fatigued, and yet, paradoxically and simultaneously, energized. He moved to his palatial corner office with an incredible view of the city and made a call on one of several disposable cell phones he kept locked in his safe.
Within half an hour, he’d reached everyone. Schedules would be rearranged, excuses made, and a location selected based on which of the agreed-upon meeting spots was available.
And then The Council would meet to discuss their problem, and the opportunity David had brought up. There was merit to his logic – this was potentially the chance they’d been waiting for. It remained to be seen whether it truly was, but Jacob felt stronger after hanging up on the last call and dismantling the phone, its parts to be discarded in garbage cans around Jerusalem.
Yes, tomorrow night The Council would meet.
And its decision could change the shape of their world forever.
Jacob sighed as he sat back down in his executive chair and looked out at the waning day, the late afternoon light fading as dusk approached.
Tomorrow, they would meet.
And the Earth would tremble.
In his bones, he felt a tingle of anticipation. Perhaps David was right, and had seen what he’d been too blind – no, too frightened – to see for himself.
Perhaps it was finally time.
He would know soon enough.
Chapter 6
One week ago, ten miles south of Eli, Somalia
“They’ve agreed to our demands,” Korfa announced with a triumphant smile. His audience of gunmen went wild, dancing on the deck of the ship, firing their weapons into the air, ululating and yelling primal sounds of joy and victory. He let them continue for a few moments and then raised his hand for silence. Their grins were ear to ear, and the men looked more like jubilant boys than hardened cutthroats.
“When, sir?” Nadif asked, the question that every man was wondering.
“In three days.”
“How is it to occur?”
“I gave them coordinates for a drop a few miles from here. A vehicle will be left there with the money in the back. Once the funds have been counted, we’ll divide it up and then they’ll send in a small crew to pilot the ship to the nearest port for repairs. By which time we’ll be long gone.”
Another rousing round of cheering erupted from the men, accompanied by more gunfire.
“After all expenses have been calculated and we’ve paid back our supporters, your shares will be worth a fortune – you will all be wealthy men. And it proves that my approach is a valid one. These industrialists only understand the blade of a knife or the barrel of a gun. Not so different from our brothers, really. They posture, but in the end, they bow to force. I see a bright future ahead of us. Truly, a bright future.”
The rest of the afternoon was spent celebrating, the end of a long and arduous campaign finally at hand. Already the men were discussing what they would do with their impossibly large cuts of the take, and what the next project would be. In a country where the average person made no money, and lived off whatever animals they could raise, the prospect of earning tens of thousand dollars apiece was almost unimaginable. Korfa hadn’t burdened them with the knowledge that the total take was actually four million dollars, and that even after restituting his backers, he would pocket half a million himself. All they needed to know was that they were all rich men because of his vision, and he had no doubt that the next mission would bring even higher rewards and a virtually endless stream of candidates eager to follow his lead.
He had executed another three crew members a few days earlier and sent the video on. That had clearly made the difference. Their contact in Mogadishu had reported that within twenty-four hours of receiving it, the shipping company had agreed to the renegotiated number, eager to put an end to the massacre.
Sheep. It didn’t matter what country they were based in, all men were the same. When the wolf appeared and demonstrated its willingness to do the unthinkable, the sheep flocked to offer the wolf whatever it wanted in order to leave them safe – for the present. He had learned much growing up in the southern region, where the civil war had broken out over two decades earlier, and his stint first as a child soldier and then as a feared lieutenant for one of the country’s most ruthless warlords had taught him everything he needed to know.
After much backslapping and congratulations, Korfa retired to the captain’s cabin for a nap, to dream about what he would do with his half million dollars. The sum seemed so abstract; he couldn’t imagine that amount of wealth. How many camels was it? Visions of a life elsewhere, a speedboat tethered off the beach from his home, a bevy of comely young women at his beck and call, drifted through his imagination as he made his way to his quarters. If his next few missions were as successful as this one, he could retire a millionaire, the lord of everything he saw. Maybe he would move to Italy, a wondrous place he’d heard glowing stories about from the few remaining immigrants who were left over from when Italy had ruled Somalia.
Yes, a villa off the coast of Italy sounded perfect.
Soon, he would be able to afford it.
~ ~ ~
Four days ago, Mahe, the Seychelles islands
The Cessna Caravan waited on the Mahe airport runway, engine warming up as the pilot went over the last-minute details with the three passengers he’d be ferrying on this trip. Fuel topped off, the plan was to fly to the African mainland, with the estimated travel time just over six hours to reach the Somali coast – allowing for headwinds and any unexpected weather – and then to continue on to Yemen.
Dawn had broken a few minutes earlier, and the passengers had wasted no time loading their gear into the plane. The pilot didn’t speak much, nor did the men, which was for the best – all were extremely good at what they did, and had learned not to ask questions. The pilot had no reason to want to know who his passengers were or what they were going to be doing once they were on the ground in Somalia. All he cared about was the large paycheck he was collecting – easily two years’ worth of cash, if not more.
“I am Henri, your pilot. So, you are ready?” he asked with a token smile, his French accent coloring his English with a musical lilt.
“Never more,” the tallest of the three replied, not returning his smile, his English also accented, but only slightly, and not with French. “You can call me Sol.”
“Bon, Sol. Then we go, yes?”
Sol nodded and then made for the plane, the pilot following more slowly. He recognized the effortless economy of movement all three shared, but didn’t comment on it. The less he knew, the better. He had made a small fortune running discreet flights for a select group of special clients, in addition to his air tour business, and this wasn’t the first time he had received unusual instructions that weren’t strictly leg
al. Then again, a man had to do what he could to make his way in the world, and legality changed from country to country and depending on what day it was, so what did he care of the rules men arbitrarily imposed upon one another? None of it much mattered at twelve thousand feet – they all looked like ants once at a certain altitude, going about their busy chores, scuttling across their domains with single-minded determination. Flying above it all had given him a certain perspective many earthbound mortals couldn’t appreciate, which enabled him to take delicate jobs without any qualms – as long as the money was sufficient.
At forty-nine, Henri Jacquot had seen much in his life, first as a member of the elite French Foreign Legion, later as a jack-of-all-trades entrepreneur plying his skills in Africa, where the siren song of boundless treasures to be had for men of grit – and the paucity of rules – appealed to his free-spirited nature. As a natural part of his orientation, he had gravitated toward jobs that involved considerable risk to offset their outsized rewards, and over the last twenty years had been involved in too many questionable operations to count. Whether flying blood diamonds north or arms south, Henri was a survivor, and one of his great skills was the ability to forget what he needed to, virtually instantly.
The plane taxied to the end of the runway and he paused, waiting for clearance from the tower. When it came he pushed the throttle forward, and before they were halfway down its length he was pulling up into the clear sky, only an occasional white cloud floating in the seemingly endless blue. He climbed to a cruising altitude of ten thousand feet, and once he had leveled off, engaged the autopilot, the engine droning its familiar purr as the passengers gazed out the windows with uninterested expressions. He settled into his seat and shifted, trying to get comfortable, his bones feeling old on days that began like this, and adjusted the headset to better monitor any radio chatter.
JET V - Legacy Page 4