Bodyguard: Ransom (Book 2)

by Bradford, Chris

  Despite Ling’s warning, he recalled Emily still posting pictures and comments on her social network site whenever they departed or arrived at a new location. Could she have been secretly communicating with the pirates? Sending their coordinates via geo-tagging?

  Then the morning of the attack when he’d seen the flashing light, had Emily been responsible rather than Cali? Was she signalling the pirates? Connor tried to picture her expression when he’d found her on deck. Emily had definitely appeared surprised, even shocked … or was it guilt?

  And, if she was conspiring with the pirates, then it would explain why she’d been so quick to defend Cali. Are they working together?

  The radio in the citadel had been sabotaged. Was that Cali’s doing? Or Emily’s?

  Yet none of this took away from the genuine fear in her eyes, or the heartfelt plea to her father to pay the ransom, or the relieved hug she gave Connor on her initial rescue. The pirate leader had even put a gun to her head. If Emily is with them, why would he do that?

  There were too many questions. Too many conflicting possibilities.

  The only known facts were that Emily had led him into a trap. And that he was now a hostage.

  ‘I never expected to meet you in person,’ said Oracle, settling into a chair opposite the investor. ‘Nor did I expect you to be white.’

  The investor stared hard at the pirate, adjusting the cuffs of his grey shirt and saying nothing.

  Oracle shifted uneasily under his gaze. The cabin they sat in was hot and muggy, and the man’s presence seemed to intensify the discomfort.

  ‘Not that it’s a problem, of course,’ he added. ‘Can I offer you some water? Your journey must have been tiring.’

  The investor nodded. Oracle clicked his fingers and barked an order at Cali, who was standing obediently in the corner. Cali rushed over to an old fridge, pulled out a bottle of chilled water and handed it to the investor. The white man took a measured sip then replaced the cap. Cali backed away, not taking his eyes off him. To Cali, he was like a desert scorpion upon a rock. The rock appeared safe enough, but anyone getting too close would be struck with a lethal sting.

  Oracle, a man used to being in charge, found his investor’s silence unnerving.

  ‘So, what brings you here?’ he demanded. ‘As I reported, we’ve successfully hijacked the Orchid and are now waiting for the ransom to be paid.’

  ‘And it won’t be long before we receive good news on that account, I can assure you,’ added Mr Ali, keen to impress. ‘The cracks are already beginning to show. We should close this deal within a week or so.’

  He grinned broadly at the investor, awaiting his praise.

  The investor didn’t smile back. ‘Change of plan. When the ransom is delivered, you’re not to release his family.’

  ‘What?’ exclaimed Oracle, taking off his sunglasses and frowning. ‘So what am I supposed to do with them?’

  ‘Hand them over to Seven Sabres.’

  Mr Ali’s mouth fell open in shock. ‘The terrorists? But they’ll torture and kill them.’

  ‘And you won’t?’

  ‘That was just an empty threat to force the price up,’ explained Mr Ali. ‘We’re not religious extremists. We’re businessmen.’

  ‘I never make empty threats,’ said the investor. ‘What’s the point?’

  ‘But, if we double-cross Mr Sterling, my gang will get a bad reputation,’ argued Oracle. ‘That’s not good for business. Shipping companies won’t pay next time.’

  The investor snorted. ‘With a share of a hundred million dollars in your pockets, what do you care? And since when did pirates worry about their reputation?’

  ‘We’re not terrorists. We’re simply making a living from the sea. And since other nations have stolen all our –’

  ‘Don’t justify your crimes with false moral arguments. You are pirates, blood and bone. That’s why we selected you. The organization I represent wants to break Mr Sterling’s heart as well as his bank balance. He’s come too close to the truth too many times for our liking. We need his mind occupied until we’ve tied up all the loose ends.’

  ‘And who exactly do you represent?’ challenged Oracle.

  The investor’s icy stare fixed upon him. ‘Such questions can get a man killed.’

  Oracle felt his blood rise. His hand went to his gun. ‘Are you threatening me?’

  The investor didn’t blink. ‘No, it’s just a fact.’

  With an effort, Oracle subdued his anger and relaxed his grip on the gun. The investor had, of course, funded this hijacking and delivered a golden catch virtually into his lap. If the ransom came good, he’d become one of the richest men in Somalia overnight. Why not play his little game?

  Oracle offered a civil smile. ‘I just don’t understand why you couldn’t tell me this over the phone.’

  ‘Because I needed to commend my little spy.’

  The investor turned towards the door. Emily stood there, accompanied by Spearhead and Bucktooth, nursing his jaw.

  ‘Hello, my little sparrow. You have done so well.’

  Connor searched frantically through the boxes in the storage room. There had to be something that could help him escape. But all he’d found so far were spare machinery parts, gaffer tape and other repair supplies. As he rifled through the last box, Connor heard the door behind him unlock.

  ‘You were supposed to be dead,’ said Spearhead, his bulk filling the open doorway.

  The pirate had the barrel of his AK47 trained on Connor.

  ‘Sorry to disappoint you,’ said Connor, backing away, his Go-bag clasped to his chest.

  Scowling, Spearhead cocked his head to one side. ‘One of my men, Abdul, is missing. Was that your doing?’

  Connor could only presume he meant the pirate with the hooked nose. ‘He fell overboard.’

  Spearhead narrowed his eyes. ‘Maybe you will too.’

  His finger went to the trigger. Connor braced himself for the shot, the panel of liquid body armour suddenly feeling far too small a shield. From behind its limited protection, he reached for the flare gun in his pocket.

  ‘Stop! What do you think you’re doing, Spearhead?’ said a voice from the corridor.

  ‘About to shoot a ship’s rat,’ replied the pirate.

  Oracle appeared in the doorway and placed a hand on Spearhead’s rifle, forcing the barrel to the ground. ‘All in good time, my friend, all in good time.’

  The pirate leader stepped into the room with Mr Ali. He looked Connor up and down. ‘And they call Africa’s warlords evil for recruiting child soldiers. But a child bodyguard? That is truly beyond belief.’

  ‘I don’t kill. I protect,’ said Connor, his fingers wrapping round the handle of the hidden flare gun.

  Oracle chuckled. ‘Well, you’re not doing a very good job then, are you?’

  Connor had no answer for that. He’d been doing his level best, but had been betrayed by the very person he was protecting.

  ‘Emily’s told us everything about you,’ explained Oracle, confirming Connor’s worst fears. ‘Quite a little James Bond, aren’t we?’

  At that, Connor whipped the flare gun from his pocket. But, before he could aim it, Spearhead seized his arm in a vice-like grip.

  ‘Nice try,’ he spat in Connor’s face, prising the flare gun from his grasp. Then he stripped him of his Go-bag and emptied his pockets.

  ‘And to think I was going to be merciful to you,’ said Oracle, shaking his head in exaggerated disappointment.

  He handed Connor a mobile phone.

  ‘Call your people. Tell them you have only twenty-four hours to live.’

  Charley answered her phone on its first ring. ‘Connor, is that you?’

  ‘Yes –’

  ‘Thank goodness,’ she said, glancing across at Colonel Black and giving him the thumbs up. ‘Listen, there’s an Australian warship twelve nautical miles due east of your position. Can you tell me –’

  ‘Charley, you have to listen to me,
’ interrupted Connor, his voice sounding strained. ‘I’ve just been captured. I’ve been given twenty-four hours to live. Emily is …’

  The line crackled and Connor’s voice was lost.

  Charley pressed the phone to her ear. ‘Connor! Are you still there?’

  ‘Hello there, Charley.’

  She felt her blood run cold at the unfamiliar voice. ‘Who is this?’

  ‘We have your buddy-guard.’ There was a snort of derision. ‘I’m afraid his protection days are over. Unless Mr Sterling agrees to the ransom demand.’

  The connection was cut.

  Charley stared at her phone, the small hope she’d harboured for Connor ending with the call.

  Mr Sterling crossed his arms and stared at Colonel Black. ‘Well, we can rule out your final ring of defence!’

  Charley could hold her tongue no more. ‘Connor’s life’s at stake because he risked it trying to protect your daughters!’ she exclaimed. ‘Don’t you understand the sacrifice he’s made? That Brad has already paid. Are you that pig-headed and self-centred that you can’t see we’re doing everything in our power to bring back your family? Yet all you can do is criticize and complain. If you were the one with those pirates, I’d leave you there to rot. But it’s not you. There are nine loyal crew, your fiancée, your daughters and Connor. You’re not helping resolve this crisis. Now either work with us, or get out!’

  Charley glared at Mr Sterling, daring him to argue with her. The media mogul stood open-mouthed as if he’d been slapped across the face. It was quite apparent no one had ever spoken to him like that before, let alone a teenager.

  Colonel Black turned to Charley, not sure whether to be angry or proud. ‘That’s no way to speak to our client.’

  ‘Quite right,’ fumed Mr Sterling. ‘I want her gone.’

  The colonel turned on the media mogul, his eyes hard and unforgiving. ‘No. Charley made a very valid if blunt point. Your attitude, Mr Sterling, is an obstacle to the success of this ransom negotiation. It could very well get them all killed.’

  Mr Sterling swallowed hard, trying to compose himself under the colonel’s ferocious glare. He lowered himself back into his chair and clasped his hands together, his expression almost contrite. ‘No one speaks to me in that way, let alone a child, although I accept the stress of this situation may have been clouding my judgement.’ He seemed as if about to apologize. But he didn’t. Instead he focused on Colonel Black. ‘So what’s the plan now?’

  ‘We continue to negotiate. Play for time. That’s all we can do until I speak with your navy and establish what action –’

  Mr Sterling’s mobile rang. He looked at the display. ‘It’s them.’

  With Connor’s life now at stake, Colonel Black was determined to direct him.

  ‘Offer them ten million dollars,’ he instructed. ‘That’s half the highest ransom paid to date. They’ll probably reject it, but it’s a decent sum. Shows we’re serious. We can work our way up to twenty million.’

  ‘But that was for an oil tanker and its crew,’ retorted Mr Sterling, becoming belligerent once more as he pressed the Speakerphone button. ‘Mr Ali?’

  ‘Yes. Sorry I missed your call earlier –’

  ‘Is my daughter alive?’ demanded Mr Sterling, ignoring the negotiator’s hollow apology.

  ‘Yes, she’s shocked but unharmed. I can’t guarantee I’ll be able to stop Oracle next time, though.’

  ‘I want to speak with Amanda and Chloe.’

  ‘Maybe later,’ said Mr Ali. ‘Now, let’s get down to business before anyone is seriously hurt.’

  Charley gripped the arms of her chair, listening intently to the call. All she could think of was Connor and Colonel Black’s words: Mistakes can cost lives.

  Whether through arrogance, stubbornness or stupidity, Mr Sterling decided to continue the negotiations himself. He wet his lips before replying. ‘I can fly in five million dollars within two days.’

  Colonel Black glared at Mr Sterling, but said nothing.

  On the phone they heard Mr Ali sigh. ‘Mr Sterling, I thought I’d made myself abundantly clear: one hundred million dollars, nothing less. You should know that, if you do not pay, or are unwilling to, you will leave the pirates no option but to kill Connor and hand your family over to Seven Sabres.’

  Mr Sterling’s eyes widened in alarm. ‘The terrorists?’

  ‘That’s correct, and those extremists aren’t known for their hospitality to Westerners.’

  ‘Well, ten million then.’

  Mr Ali didn’t reply.

  ‘Plus the yacht. It’s worth fifty million alone.’

  ‘They already have your yacht. And what use is it to them? Mr Sterling, I advise you to think very carefully. Oracle has vowed to kill one of the crew for every offer you make below a hundred million. He may even start with your beautiful fiancée.’

  Mr Sterling went to answer back then shut his mouth.

  ‘Are you still there? Mr Sterling?’

  ‘Y-yes … I need to speak with my accountant. I’ll call you back.’

  Beginner’s luck. That’s all it had been.

  Connor was a fool to think he possessed the skills to be a bodyguard. It was luck that had saved the President’s daughter’s life that day. Not him. And now good fortune had turned its back on Connor. He was a captive of the pirates, the same as Chloe, Amanda and the Orchid’s crew. Just another hostage … another liability.

  Connor clenched his fists in frustration and despair. He wanted to scream. To tear down the walls of the storage room that was now his prison. Why had he ever thought he could follow in his father’s footsteps? What had possessed him to do the very job that had killed his father?

  And that would now end his own life.

  Failure is the key to success; each mistake teaches us something.

  That’s what Colonel Black had said. Well, Connor had certainly learnt the hard way not to trust his Principals. Not that such knowledge would be of any use to him now. He’d be dead within the next twenty hours – unless Mr Sterling agreed to pay the ransom. But, based on the man’s previous track record, Connor doubted that would happen in his remaining lifetime. Mr Sterling was stone-hearted enough to gamble with his own daughters’ fate, so from his viewpoint Connor would be expendable. No wonder Emily had turned against her father.

  Colonel Black and Charley would, of course, be doing anything and everything to secure his release. But he wasn’t the pirates’ main prize. He was simply leverage in the negotiations. Like the crew, his life would be sacrificed simply to prove the pirates’ resolve.

  Connor’s thoughts turned to his mum and gran. How would they cope? His mum’s health was frail enough as it was. His death might even be the end of her. His gran would tough it out, like she always had through life. But he’d promised to see them both soon. And he never broke his promises to his gran. Connor fought back tears. He realized this would likely be the one promise that he couldn’t keep.

  The door swung open and Connor looked up. Cali the stowaway appeared with a tray. Behind him stood a hollow-cheeked guard, gun slung across his chest, his mouth chewing lazily on khat leaves.

  Cali put the tray down at Connor’s feet. There was a steaming bowl of brown mush along with a bottle of water.

  ‘Is this my last meal?’ said Connor dryly.

  ‘Goat stew,’ Cali replied, not meeting his eye. He stood. ‘I thought you dead.’

  ‘What do you care?’ snapped Connor. ‘I should’ve trusted my gut instinct on the yacht. You’re a pirate and a liar. Just like Emily.’

  ‘Hadal ma jiro!’ barked the guard.

  Cali hurried out of the room and the guard slammed the door shut.

  Connor eyed the goat stew, the waft of meat thick in his nostrils. Despite his hunger, he pushed the bowl away. Having seen the animal slaughtered, Connor had no appetite for it. Tomorrow he’d likely be suffering the same fate.

  Connor stirred. The exhaustion of the past few days had finally caught up
with him and he’d succumbed to sleep. But it was a fitful rest, full of nightmarish visions. Goats with slit throats. Decks awash with blood. Brad’s bullet-ridden corpse bloating in the sun. His own body lying next to it, quivering in a death twitch.

  His nerves so on edge, Connor snapped awake as soon as he heard the lock turn. The door swung open and Cali entered.

  ‘You not eat,’ he said, looking at the untouched bowl of congealing goat stew.

  ‘I can’t stomach it,’ said Connor, ‘like I can’t stomach you.’

  Cali frowned at him. ‘I come to get you.’

  A cold dread seized Connor at the impending execution. Surely it couldn’t be that time already. He glanced at his watch. It was only 22:17. Twenty-four hours hadn’t passed. Does that mean a deal has been struck? Unlikely in so few hours. In all probability, the pirates were going to torture him to put more pressure on the negotiations.

  Connor glanced into the corridor behind Cali. There was no guard in sight. Connor rose to his feet. This might be his last and only chance to escape. He could easily overpower Cali.

  ‘Where’s the guard?’ asked Connor, preparing to pounce.

  ‘I tell the guard a boat come. More khat for him. Now I guard you.’

  Smiling, Cali stepped aside from the door, offering Connor no resistance and a way out.

  Connor hesitated in his attack. He narrowed his eyes at Cali. No longer did he trust anyone. Is this a trap? A cruel game to break my spirit?

  When Connor didn’t move, Cali took a step forward and unslung a familiar rucksack. ‘Your bag,’ he said, his expression expectant as he offered it to Connor.

  Connor cautiously took it. ‘Why are you helping me?’

  Cali blinked in surprise. ‘You save my life.’

  Connor recalled the moment he’d shoved Cali aside as the jug-eared pirate blasted the Orchid’s corridor with his AK47. ‘You were in my way!’

  Cali shrugged. ‘Still save me.’

  ‘But you’re one of them.’

  ‘I never pirate!’ hissed Cali, bitterness in his voice.