Zara's Game

by Jo Black

  ‘And your involvement with Smythe will continue to be yours, Gilad.’ Gilad stormed out. ‘My apologies Hani, I do not mean to cause such offence in your home.’

  ‘No apologies required my dear. You are right; I am too gracious to throw even the most wretched of snakes into the street. I’m grateful for my friends who remove such things from my home. Alex, I urge caution. The duplicity of the Zionist is clear to me, as it is to all. Smythe did not impose such conditions for his fear of you, but merely to defang The Dragon so he could pierce it more easily.’

  ‘This fact I am aware of.’

  ‘And yet you will still proceed?’

  ‘I must Hani, Allah wills me to do it with all his force. Tell me what you would not do for your love?’

  ‘I would burn the world to ashes.’

  ‘Then you have some understanding.’

  ‘Then may Allah watch over you my dear, and bless you with his protection.’

  ‘Insha’Allah.’

  ‘Insha’Allah.’ Hani smiled.

  ‘What amuses you Hani?’

  ‘You are good Muslim Alex, and a good Jew, and a good Christian. You are a good Arab, a good Russian, and a fine Englishman. But tell me Alex my dear, in your heart, who do you really want to be?’

  ‘A good husband. Nothing more.’

  ‘You know the secret to being a good husband?’

  ‘No Hani, enlighten me as to your secret.’

  ‘Always let her make the decisions, let her tell you what you must decide, and then decide it, but always only what she chooses. This is the secret to a good marriage.’

  ‘Does it work for you?’ Alex asked.

  Hani looked behind him at his wife playing with their children in the garden. ‘The evidence is before your eyes.’

  ‘You are blessed Hani.’

  ‘And may you be so blessed also dear friend. I will pray for you and Zara’s safe return. Allah be with you.’

  ‘Has he got a fishing boat?’ Alex asked.

  ‘No, but I do believe my second cousin in Tangiers has.’

  ‘Tell me Hani, why does your second cousin choose the life of a simple fisherman in Tangiers instead of a spy within your prestigious directorate?’

  ‘What are spies, if not fisherman? Perhaps he is not a fisherman at all, or perhaps he is and finds a great many secrets in his nets...’ Hani said raising an eyebrow. ‘Who is to say...’

  38

  With the restrictions in place on the exchange, Alex had elected to leave Nish in charge of The Company during his absence, to ensure in the event of betrayal Nish would be left to command those loyal to him to avenge him. He took his most trusted bodyguards and assassins, The Ninja and Hamid, to accompany him to the exchange. They reached the quayside at the fishing port in Tangiers, and made their way down to where a wooden-hulled trawler was moored up at a jetty being attended to by a small crew. As the trio approached, one of the crew alerted the captain, who appeared from the wheelhouse and made his way over to the gangway. ‘Greetings brothers. I am Hani’s cousin, Asad. We are at your service.’

  ‘Alex. This is Masato and Hamid. Is everything prepared?’

  ‘We are ready to sail. You have the location?’ The trio stepped aboard. Alex handed Asad an envelope containing the co-ordinates. ‘Follow me please,’ Asad said. Alex followed Asad into the wheelhouse and over to the chart table. Asad took the co-ordinates and traced them with a set of navigation rulers onto the map to a point in the Atlantic off the North African coast.

  ‘Can we make it in time?’ Alex asked.

  ‘She is an old girl, but she is fast and reliable. We will make good time. If you will excuse me one moment.’ Asad headed out and ordered his men to cast off. They untied the mooring ropes as Asad returned to the wheelhouse. The old diesel engine reluctantly sparked into life with a plume of black smoke before settling into a lumpy idle. Asad smiled at Alex. ‘Do not worry, she has survived the worse wrath of Allah on the seas, but she is blessed to weather the highest of tides.’

  ‘I’m glad to hear it. Do you catch much?’ Alex asked, nodding at the nets on the deck.

  ‘If Allah wills it,’ Asad replied with a knowing smile. ‘It will be a long voyage overnight to the location. There are beds in the cabins down below for you and your men.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘We will prepare a meal for you.’

  Alex headed down below with the Ninja and Hamid to their cabins as the boat bounced over the waves at the breakwater. They found the small cabins where loose pipe cots carried canvas-webbed beds. They claimed a bed each before returning to the combined crew galley / mess quarters and taking a seat at the table. Alex looked at his watch then at his men. They glanced a smile. As the last of the light fell to darkness, one of Asad’s crew came and prepared a meal for them of curried fish with rice and flatbreads. After his dinner Alex went up to the wheelhouse where Asad was steering the boat. He gave Alex a beaming smile.

  ‘I know what you are thinking, what is an Arab doing so far from home?’

  ‘Seems an unusual career choice.’

  ‘Since a boy I dreamed only of the sea. My brothers and cousins, they loved to ride horses in the desert and all such traditional things, but all I wanted was to go to sea. I had never even seen it. Only imagined it in my dreams, and from the books I have read.’

  ‘What books?’

  ‘Moby Dick. But my favourite, Treasure Island. I would have so very much liked to have been a great pirate captain. Command a tall ship, sails billowing in the wind as we chased down wealthy merchants.’

  ‘You should go down to the Gulf of Aden, not so sure you’ll have much luck with a tall ship chasing down modern cargo freighters, but piracy is still thriving.’

  ‘It is not so interesting. No, it would have to be the Caribbean. Searching for buried treasure on exotic islands, and drinking in taverns with buxom wenches as they are called, are they not?’

  ‘I believe so,’ Alex said with a smile.

  ‘What a life of adventure. I was born at the wrong time. Imagine it, an Arabian pirate captain. Saracen swords and Shemaghs flying in the wind, we would terrify even the British Royal Navy. But alas, all I have is my fishing boat. Perhaps in another life.’

  ‘Perhaps.’

  ‘And what of you my friend? What time would you have wished to be born?’

  Alex looked out the window and gazed at the open sea. ‘The time when generals commanded great armies, sat astride mighty horses, with shields and standard bearers, swords held aloft in the defence of mighty kingdoms. Great battle lines drawn across huge valleys. A time when you knew who your enemy was, and people fought openly, and with honour. But...’ Alex sighed. ‘I fear like your dreams of romantic pirate adventures, the reality was not as we imagine it to be.’

  ‘But they are nice fantasies. Are they not?’

  ‘A little escape from reality now and again does us all good.’

  ‘I think we understand one another. Tell me brother, why did this man take your woman?’

  ‘Well my friend, to that I have no real answer. Politics is as mysterious as what lies out there in the darkness of the ocean. I think we’re all just little fishing boats bobbing around carried by the currents, hoping desperately our engines take us where we want to go.’

  ‘And where do you want to go?’

  ‘The same place as you, to paradise. A place of peace and serenity, where the troubles of this world are a distant thing.’

  ‘What do you imagine it to be? I have often thought about it, but I cannot envision it.’

  ‘Each man’s paradise is their own. For me, I imagine a peaceful valley, great towering waterfalls cascading down granite rocks covered with flowers and green ivy. At the bottom, a soft river runs through rock pools where deer and other animals roam peacefully without fear of being hunted, and atop it all, a beautiful white castle with towering spires, silk banners dancing gently on a warm breeze, and my beloved at my side.’

  ‘That, my
brother, is paradise. I should like to visit you there someday. Perhaps on a golden ship.’

  ‘I think you know what your paradise is Asad, in our hearts I think we all do.’

  ‘A mighty oak built ship, with golden threaded sails, sailing on a turquoise sea, dolphins chasing at the bow.’

  ‘Then you do know.’

  ‘It is but a dream. Maybe if I am a good Muslim, and faithful, Allah wills it.’

  ‘It is written.’

  ‘Is everything written?’

  ‘Not all things, but for some, everything is written.’

  ‘You should get some rest. You can leave me to think about my golden boat.’ Asad smiled.

  Alex smiled and patted Asad on the shoulder. ‘This one’s not so bad. To a captain who loves the sea, all boats are golden.’ Alex went back below. He returned to his cabin where he found The Ninja meditating. On Alex’s arrival his eyes snapped open. ‘What is troubling your mind Masato-san?’

  ‘I sense great peril ahead, Alex-san. This voyage is not blessed to end peacefully.’

  ‘What is it you sense?’

  ‘The boat. It knows it will not return to port. It fears for its crew, it has kept them safe through many dangers, and now it feels powerless.’

  ‘The boat told you that?’

  ‘This boat has great spirituality Alex-san. The wood it is constructed from is a living energy even thought it was long since felled from the forest.’

  Alex sat down on his bunk. ‘I will admit, the ways of the Samurai remain a mystery to me, I understand a little of Bushido, that your oneness with the forces of nature embody you with a spirit that allows you to become great warriors, but tell me friend, is it really the boat telling you these things, or merely your own fears?’

  ‘What is the boat, but a messenger for such things? Does it matter who sent the message, or the medium through which the message is sent, or that the message is clearly understood, and acted on properly? You have sought my counsel on this matter, and it has been given, Alex-san.’

  ‘The message is understood. The boat need not fear, his soul is prepared.’

  ‘And what of yours?’

  ‘And what did the boat tell you about my fate?’

  ‘It does not see you, and nor do I. Your spirit is shrouded in mystery that no-one can see past.’

  ‘No, there is one.’

  ‘Zara. That is only because you choose to let her in, but she has yet to fully comprehend the secrets that she has revealed.’

  ‘Get some rest. Tomorrow will be a trial for all of us.’

  ‘As you wish.’ The Ninja closed his eyes again. Alex settled into his bunk, imagining Asad’s golden boat and shutting out the distraction from the clattering diesel engine to replace it with the soft flutter of gold-threaded canvas on a light breeze, he smiled softly to himself. ‘It is a good paradise you have Asad. I wish it for you with all my heart.’

  39

  The towering white hull of the 180 metre long superyacht shimmered in the sun as the little fishing trawler bobbed towards it, old blue paint flaking off its tired wooden hull. Asad suddenly felt slightly ashamed of his meagre vessel by comparison to the multi-hundred million dollar floating palace. Alex, stood slightly behind Asad, sensed his envy and patted him on the shoulder. ‘Your boat has a soul, that one does not. It speaks to Masato.’

  Asad looked at Alex with surprise, then at Masato (The Ninja). Masato bowed politely.

  ‘What does it say?’ Asad asked.

  ‘You are a good captain, and it looks out for you. Perhaps it is your golden boat, and you simply don’t see it. Peace be upon you brother Asad. May Allah bless your journey, wherever it may take you.’

  ‘Thank you brother Alex, peace be upon you.’

  Alex left the wheelhouse. Masato bowed to Asad and then followed Alex up to the front of the deck. They stared out at Charles Vane: stood waiting on the lower stern deck of the superyacht. Alex’s eyes dotted round the multiple private military contractors patrolling the decks. ‘It is well guarded, is it not?’ Masato said.

  ‘It’ll still sink as easily as any other boat, no matter how many guns he puts aboard her.’ They watched as the crew of the superyacht put her V.I.P tender into the water. Vane boarded it with a pair of armed guards and the tender’s crew before it sped across to where the fishing boat had anchored some thousand metres away. It reached the boat and a member of Asad’s crew tossed a line aboard to haul the tender in. Vane stepped aboard, his eyes met Alex’s.

  ‘Alex.’

  ‘Charles.’ They shook hands. ‘My captain: Asad, is a fan of one of your ancestors. Asad!’ Asad emerged from the wheelhouse and walked over. ‘Come and meet Charles Vane, Junior. I believe you may have read of his ancestor’s exploits.’

  ‘The Charles Vane?’ Asad asked.

  ‘One and the same,’ Vane replied.

  ‘My captain would like to have been a pirate,’ Alex said with a smile.

  ‘We don’t like to think of him as a pirate, more of a freelance mariner of opportunity.’

  ‘It’s a great honour,’ Assad said, he wiped his oily hand on a rag and offered it. Vane shook it.

  ‘Likewise. I like your boat. It has honesty about it. Which is more than can be said for that monstrosity.’ Vane nodded across at the superyacht.

  ‘All the same I would gladly swap,’ Asad replied.

  ‘If my great-great-great grandfather was around, he’d take it for you. Stick to your fishing boat Asad. Fishing is a noble profession, arms dealing is not.’ Vane turned his attention back to Alex. ‘I must speak with you before we board. You are in grave danger Alex. Smythe has no intention of honouring this bargain.’

  ‘You imagine this is news to me?’

  ‘No, I imagine it is not, but I am troubled by it none the less.’

  Alex walked to the end of the boat with Vane. ‘Is she on board?’

  ‘She is. And she is in good health as far as I can tell, you don’t have to worry over Smythe in that regard, she’s the wrong sex, and I’d slit the throat of any of my men who dared to take such an imposition.’

  ‘Then he has what we came for.’

  ‘He doesn’t intend to let you leave.’

  ‘And he imagines he can stop me?’

  ‘Don’t be fooled by the gin palace. I saw them load some serious hardware on board. He used his new men for it. Won’t let me near it, clearly I’ve lost his trust.’

  ‘New men?’

  ‘Merriweather. He sold the arms and bonds he took from you to Smythe at a favourable price. I believe he intends to betray both of us today.’

  ‘And what are you are proposing?’

  ‘We are brothers of The Guild, we cannot let such treachery stand, nor can we engage in open warfare so out-gunned. But when you get back on this boat with her, I believe he means to sink it.’

  Alex nodded. ‘Leave it to me. I have a surprise for Smythe too. I’ll let you know when the time comes.’

  ‘I’m sorry Alex, I should have stopped this madness earlier, I was blind to it.’

  ‘We all were. All that matters is what we do now. You’ve honoured your pledge Charles. We remain brothers.’

  ‘We should return. He’s already suspicious.’

  ‘Very well,’ Alex said. He made his way back towards the tender where Hamid was waiting with the dossier case alongside Masato. ‘It seems your boat was right Masato-san. Be on your guard, our brother is with us.’ Alex nodded at Vane subtly. Masato bowed. Alex went to step off the fishing boat and stopped, he looked back at Asad. Asad smiled back. Alex climbed down into the tender followed by Masato and Hamid. The tender pushed off from the fishing boat and made its way back to Smythe’s superyacht.

  40

  Follow me,’ Vane said and led them up the stairs to the rear dining deck. Surrounded by a perimeter of S.M.G toting uniformed contractors, the table was laid out for lunch, at its head sat, wearing a pair of bleached chinos, blue oxford shirt, under a straw boater and reading the Finan
cial Times, David Smythe. ‘Your guests have arrived,’ Vane hissed. Smythe folded the newspaper in half and put it down on the table.

  ‘Thank you Charles,’ Smythe said in a perfect Oxford-educated Queen’s English — brimmed with a self-assured arrogance. He didn’t acknowledge Alex, but got up from the table and walked over to the perimeter rail and stared out at the fishing boat. ‘I do hope you haven’t brought aboard any fleas from that wretched vessel,’ Smythe said before turning to look at Alex. ‘Really have fallen on hard times haven’t you old boy, scratching for coins out in the desert, and conveyed by what appears to be the jalopy of the seas. What a sad spectacle to see such a knight of majesty reduced to a mere beggar in rags.’ Alex didn’t respond. He stared coldly at Smythe without a shred of emotion. ‘Well sit down won’t you? I suppose the least we can do is offer you a spot of luncheon. I don’t imagine the catering quality aboard your pleasure vessel would quite be up to par with my Michelin-star chef’s culinary output.’ Alex walked over and sat down at the opposite head of the table to Smythe. Masato and Hamid remained standing, flanked either side of Alex’s seat. Vane walked over and perched on a bar stool watching over proceedings. ‘So how have you been Aleksandr?’

  ‘Why do you ask?’

  ‘Ah yes, the Russian has long-since taken over from the Englishman. No time for pithy small talk or trivial icebreakers about the weather now eh?’

  ‘No, I’m just curious Smythe. Do you care how I’ve been, or do you merely want to know if all your Machiavellian plotting against me has had the desired effect?’

  ‘Oh now Alex darling, don’t be so precious. You imagine all your trials and tribulations are at my behest, or indeed I have time for such petty squabbles? People to see, things to do. You may imagine me sitting aboard my mighty ship plotting through the night on how to bring about your downfall, but you are of no such account to be worthy of more than a fleeting moment of my time.’

  ‘Hmmm.’

  ‘Not convinced eh? Oh the paranoia of the mercenary. What does your all-seeing visionary Samurai have to say on the matter? What fascinating stories has he read in the tea leaves this morning, do share.’