The gunman did not move his watery glazed eyes away from Nikos. He waved the cannon side to side, his breathing noticeably getting heavier.
Though muffled by the glass and the five floor distance to the courtyard below, yelling could be heard as men rallied to discover what had caused the beach cacophony the few moments before.
Pepe waited and watched the heavy gun, a gold-plated .50 caliber Israeli Desert Eagle, hover in front of Nikos’ face. He eyed the man holding the expensive weapon, dressed in silk shirt, linen slacks, and Prada shoes. Pepe was certain this man had never fired the fancy trophy that was now dangerously waving in the air. Pepe also knew that the action on the .50 caliber was sensitive and that if this man became any further stressed, there was going to be a hole through Nikos, on through the wall, and into the next building.
Pepe paced the rhythm of the nervous thin man’s breathing with the sway of the .50 caliber, and when the small cannon was pointed at the wall beside Nikos’ head, he acted. A shell from the MP-5 made a small clink against the floor and blood from the man’s head sprayed Nikos.
“Bloody hell!” said Nikos, his eyes wide, his feet shuffling him into the wall in a failing attempt to put space between himself and the recently departed.
The fleeting moment passed.
Nikos sucked in a deep breath and tossed his head back against the wall.
“Êtes-vous d’accord!” said Pepe. “Everything is okay.”
Nikos ran his fingers across his face then, seeing blood on the ends, flexed them in an odd attempt to rid them of the stain, “You just blew a hole through Feizel’s bloody head.”
“Are you okay?” asked Pepe.
“Yes,” said Nikos. He began to stand, “I’m fine.”
“Where’s Christine?” asked Pepe.
“She’s gone. They took her,” said Nikos. He went to the bar across the billiards table. “By helicopter, two, three days ago.”
“Who took her?” asked Cameron. “Did Abbo take her with him?”
“No. Not Abbo. He was never here.” Nikos surveyed the bar then found a bottle of seltzer. “It was the man who boarded the yacht,” he doused his hands with the seltzer, “A Somali. A really tall bald fellow.”
Cameron flashed his eyes at Pepe, “I think we’ve met.”
The sound of rapid fire and single shots rose up from the courtyard.
“We have multiple shooters out here,” said Alastair into the headset. When the shooting began, he had gone down to secure the door leading out of the building into the courtyard.
Cameron put his finger to his headset, “Are you engaged?”
“No,” said Alastair. “They’re shooting at shadows and each other. We better get out of here though. I have a feeling it’s going to get pretty hot. You have the packages?”
“We have one package and we are on are way,” said Cameron.
Nikos paced to the side of the room, both of his hands clasped behind his head. He spun back to Cameron and Pepe, “This is shit. We’re dead. Do you know who you just killed?” Nikos waited for a response that was not coming. Cameron and Pepe watched him with still faces. “Well, do you?” asked Nikos again. “You just blew a hole through the head of Abbo Mohammed’s son. We are so dead.”
Cameron glanced down at the corpse sprawled below the billiards table, “Is that who that was? Pepe did you know who that was?”
Pepe did not take his eyes away from Nikos, “No.”
“Pepe did not know who that was,” said Cameron. “I’ll tell you this though. If we don’t get out of here, you are dead. Your friend Alastair is downstairs if that makes you feel any better.”
The presence of someone familiar appeared to calm Nikos, “Alastair is here?”
“For the moment,” said Pepe. “Shall we?”
Nikos lowered his hands slowly at first then dropped them to his sides. “Yes let’s go.” Though Nikos was clean, fed, and dressed, his face was horribly bruised. There was no mistake that Nikos had taken a beating.
The three began to walk around the divider, “Wait,” said Nikos. He bent over and relieved dead Feizel’s still warm hands of the .50 caliber Desert Eagle.
“You sure,” said Cameron.
Nikos lifted the .50 caliber and pulled the slide back from the barrel allowing a round to flow into the chamber, “Unlike Feizel I know how to use this weapon.”
* * * * *
Chapter 19
Abbo’s Compound
Alastair nodded toward the door that led to the harbor. “We head out onto that beach there is no way to guarantee that inflatable stays inflated.” He shifted his gaze to Nikos. Beads of sweat poured from the young Greek. Alastair pursed his lip. “The zodiac is out of the question.”
Nikos’ tone was rushed, “So that was your plan.”
From the courtyard came a large concussion then a barrage of rapid machine gun fire followed by the ever closer rhythmic chopping of rotors.
Alastair stretched the back of his neck extending his height. “No, that’s our plan,” Alastair arched a brow, “You remember Ari?”
Nikos bobbed his head, “Of course, right.”
Cameron peeked past the edge of the window. The courtyard was full of silhouettes, backlit by the stucco of the compound’s other buildings, and from above by the indigo glow of the ever brighter predawn sky. Some shadows were frozen in position while others were frantically trying to evade the sheets of strafing fire from the copter.
“What do we have Al?” asked Cameron.
“They’re consolidated in building four as we suspected,” said Alastair. “The three you see scurrying are positioning from there. From the sounds of it Ari has compromised tower one.”
“You left the gifts Eazy packed?”
“I found a beautiful place to stash the satchel.”
Cameron nodded and then touched his headset, “H2 check in.”
“This is H2,” said Ari over the headset. “Are you ready to come home?”
“Affirmative H2 four to pick up repeat four to pick up. Ready when you are,” said Cameron.
“Now is good,” said Ari. “Landing zone-one, repeat landing zone-one.”
The rhythmic chop of the Dark Star rotors grew louder as Ari maneuvered the copter to the clearing they designated as landing zone-one across the courtyard. The commandos instinctively did a periphery check of their gear, a rapid weapon inspection, and an up down of each other, the type of actions trained into their core.
Cameron placed his hand on the handle of the door. “Nikos, you’re going out with Alastair first, then Pepe you’ll go. I’ll cover from the back. Straight to the chopper, got it?”
Nikos nodded his head and then Cameron pulled the handle of the door.
Cameron peeked out, his nose filling with the pungent fumes of the burning tower hidden from his view by the barracks they had deemed as building four. He then threw the door open wide, “Go, go, go!”
Outside warmth flooded into the doorway with the thunderous rotor of the Dark Star copter touching down directly across the courtyard. Nikos and Alastair broke from the building in a dead run. The courtyard was far brighter outside than when Cameron had peered through the window. The silhouettes and shadows now had detail, though nothing showed true color, rather varying hues of blue with the exception of the stucco and stone wall which appeared odd scales of grey. At the end of a moment that stretched with adrenalin, Nikos and Alastair were in the copter.
“Go!” said Cameron.
Pepe launched from the doorway toward the copter.
When Cameron heard the Kalashnikov, he instinctively turned. The rotors muffled the rapid burst yet the compound walls surrounding the courtyard created a loud echo trail back to building four. Fortunately, the shooter had been leading his target too far, so Pepe had seen bullets pummel the top of the stone well at the center of the courtyard in time to dive safely below the line of fire.
Cameron fired at the barrel of the Kalashnikov protruding from the doorway of buildin
g four. The shooter still had a clear bead on the well and when Pepe tried to ease out of cover, he was chased back with a rapid succession of rounds.
Pepe was pinned down at the well by the shooter.
Building four was the barracks, and as such, Cameron expected the inside to be wide open, without walls, so he targeted the windows. The barrel in the doorway still did not waver. He decided to go in close and broke into a run toward the side of the barracks. The gunman in the doorway paid no attention to Cameron running along the side of the courtyard. When Cameron reached safety behind the corner of building four, he pulled a grenade from his pocket.
Across the courtyard, Cameron saw another fighter running up behind Pepe’s position.
Pepe launched himself from behind the well toward the assailant. One hand to a shoulder and the other to the waist, he hurled the man onto the ground out into the open, away from the well. A cat to his feet, the man was back at Pepe fist-to-fist, hand-to-hand. Cameron raised his MP-5. The two men were moving too quickly for Cameron to target and fire.
Alastair’s voice shot over the headset, “We have an RPG.”
“Where?” asked Cameron.
“The other side of building four. Can you get to him Kincaid?”
Cameron engaged the grenade he still held and then lobbed the small bomb blindly around the front of building four into the direction of the RPG.
A second later there was an explosion.
A flash and debris shot past the corner where Cameron stood, a bloodied flesh filled boot landed near his feet. “Did I get him?” asked Cameron.
“The shooter ran out to get you. You got him,” said Alastair. “Ari can you lift us up.”
Ari did not hesitate to Alastair’s request. The Dark Star lifted to hover above the ground and gently spun to the side. Alastair immediately shot toward the grenadier Cameron could not see. Alastair fired too late or missed, from the far side of the building four barracks, a rocket still flew.
The ghastly slow white smoke trail of the rocket cut across the courtyard, not to the copter as intended, rather toward the courtyard center. The stone well blew to pieces. Cameron threw one leg in front of the other, almost falling. He could no longer see Pepe or the other man. Cameron put the other leg forward, strong yet slushy. The next moment across the courtyard was eternal. When Cameron reached what was left of the stone well he found Pepe, struck down by the rocket.
* * * * *
“Let’s go!” screamed Alastair over the headset. This was not the first time. Cameron realized Alastair had been screaming. He lifted his head toward the copter and Alastair was waving his arms. Nikos, his face contorted, was beside Alastair shooting a submachine gun out into the courtyard. Across the courtyard, soldiers were running and falling. Cameron dropped his head down again to Pepe. Pepe was bloodied and half buried by heavy stone and limbs. Cameron hovered above Pepe in an elongated moment stretching in time and pain then dropped to his knees to shift the weight of the stones.
The intense roar of the rotors and gunfire around him became faded. Smoke billowed throughout the rubble, pushed down to the ground by the rotating blades of the Dark Star, close yet far away. Cameron realized that Alastair had kneeled down in front of Pepe.
Alastair was trying to lift Pepe. Alastair screamed at Pepe again, still all muffled, this time without the headset. Then Alastair struck Pepe. Pepe’s eyes sharpened and cut into Alastair’s. Pepe shook his head violently side to side. Where ever he had gone he had now returned. He let Alastair lift him by his shoulders. Alastair pulled Pepe up from the rubble and from the mutilated remnants of the Somali fighter, and then sent large man running past Cameron.
Cameron still did not move, not yet. Real time did not return until Alastair shoved his shoulder. That is when sound returned. When Alastair yelled, “Let’s go, let’s go!” With that, Cameron turned behind Alastair and followed him to the waiting chopper.
Cameron climbed in with the automated liquid motion that comes from years of training. Into position, his weapon pointed out the door. As Ari began to lift the Dark Star, Cameron saw a fighter run into the courtyard from the far side of the barracks. Cameron dropped the man thoughtlessly without the waste of a second round.
“Eazy check in, this is H2,” said Ari. “We have cleared the compound.”
“H2 this is Eazy, do you have the package?” asked Eazy.
Ari peered over to Alastair, “We have the package.”
“Bombs away,” said Eazy.
Ari glanced at Alastair again. Alastair reached into his pocket and pulled out a small detonator, radio linked to the satchel of explosives Eazy had given him to leave on the first floor of the main building. With his thumb, he flipped back the safety cover then crushed the igniter. Back in the main building of the compound below, large explosions began that mocked all of the early detonations, and as they flew south over the beach berm the sky filled higher and higher with the aftermath of the incendiary devices.
Cameron did not watch the fireworks above the exploding compound. He found solace deep in the eyes of his brother-in-arms. Pepe, his face blackened and bloodied, held his head high, his gaze fixed on the ocean abyss, and though Cameron had no words, he felt no need to search for them. Cameron and Pepe were committed to a shared resolve, to find Christine.
* * * * *
Cameron Kincaid returns in
The Somali Deception EPISODE II
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The Somali Deception EPISODE III
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The Somali Deception EPISODE IV
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Or
The Somali Deception THE COMPLETE EDITION
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A Note from the Author
Thank you for reading episode one of The Somali Deception. This story is the second in the Cameron Kincaid series and a favorite of my lovely wife. The original draft of the manuscript, shorter and much different that the final release, was written during November of 2010 for nanowrimo, or national novel writing month. I had planned a different project, and then came an intriguing discussion concerning the misconception of piracy with my friend Margot Kiser, an American reporting from Kenya. Coincidentally I have other friends that had already stirred my curiosity for the region, particularly my good friend Alastair Boyd, who at the time was an eco-lodge director in Laikipia. That was 2010, what happened? Well in January 2011, I was asked to oversee a multinational tech surge, in a hired gun manner if you will, and The Somali Deception was shelved. After the consulting engagement, I returned to writing full time, and did not return to The Somali Deception. Then in April of 2013, The Cathari Treasure connected with an audience and began to climb the Best Seller list, sparking encouragement from my wife to dust off the next in the series. Around the same time, an editor from a New York publishing house inquired as to whether the story could be told as an episodic serial. Up for the challenge, I rescaled the project and the result was a four episode serial with twice the action as the first story in the series.
The are numerous contributors that bring a project to completion, my family first and foremost, a myriad of fellow authors and friends on twitter, and countless others.
Individually I want to thank Chad Ness, Lon Grover, Alastair Boyd, and Margot Kiser all of whom supported the project either through shared research or the diligent reading of first drafts. I would also like to thank the readers that signed up as First Readers for this manuscript as their contributions have helped me to create a better release edition.
If you enjoyed The Somali Deception, I would appreciate if you would share your thoughts in a review. Reviews help other readers that may have similar interest as you decide whether this is a story they would like to read.
And again thank you.
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About the Author
Daniel Arthur Smith is the international bestselling author of The Cathari Treasure. America
n born, Daniel has traveled to over 300 cities in 22 countries, residing in Los Angeles, Kalamazoo, Prague, Crete, and New York.
Daniel was born and raised in Michigan, graduating from Western Michigan University where he studied philosophy and comparative religion. He has been a teacher, bartender, barista, poetry house proprietor, technologist, and a Fortune 100 consultant across America and Europe. Daniel resides and writes in Manhattan with his wife and young sons.
Connect with Me Online
Discover more at http://www.danielarthursmith.com
Twitter: http://twitter.com/authordasmith
Facebook: http://facebook.com/danielarthursmith
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6893816.Daniel_Arthur_Smith
And the serial site: http://thecatharitreasure.com
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The Somali Deception Episode I (A Cameron Kincaid Serial) Page 8