by J. B. Hawker
When the gun was empty he shouted at his men on deck and stormed off.
Chapter Fifteen
The enemy said, ‘I will pursue, I will overtake, I will divide the spoil; My desire shall be satisfied on them. I will draw my sword, My hand shall destroy them.’ ─ Exodus 15:9
At the Naval Support Facility in the British Indian Ocean Territory, the cruise ship’s situation was being monitored.
“Commander, a small launch just moved away from the Mers Comtesse and is nearing our warship in the area, USS Bulkeley. Orders?”
“Radio Bulkeley to take the launch and everyone aboard it into custody. It may be fleeing passengers, but it could be the pirates. When those aboard are secured, interrogate them to learn what is happening on that cruise ship.”
The commander of the Combined Maritime Forces’ counter-piracy mission currently supporting NATO’s counter-piracy task force had issued orders to monitor the captive ship without alerting the pirates to their presence until the situation could be evaluated.
A boarding team was on alert and a Seahawk helicopter was standing by to take them to the Mers Comtesse.
This fleeing boat could prove to be crucial in determining the rescue plans.
“Mama?”
“Yes, Marco?”
“Mama, I promised Mr. Warren that I would help him and the other men when we try to escape.”
“That was brave of you, mio figlio.
“I have been thinking about the things he said to me, though…he said that I need to take care of you. What if we try to escape and I’m killed? Who will take care of you, then?”
“Ah, Caro, do not worry about me. We will each do what we can to get safely out of this terrible situation. Once we are safe, you and I will take care of each other, as we have always done.”
“I haven’t always thought about you, Mama. But, when we are safe…very soon…when we are safe, I won’t be so selfish, anymore. I promise.”
“You are becoming a man, my son, and I am very proud of you.”
Following his tantrum, Shimbir gathered all his remaining men on deck to reestablish his control.
No one remained at the helm, but it was scarcely noticeable after the ship’s recent erratic path.
The guards maintained watch on their prisoners while listening to their leader’s remarks.
“Cowards and fools have left this ship. That’s good. Now there will be more money for each of us. The money will be coming soon. We have given them until midnight to respond. They know that if we fail to receive our money before then, every passenger will be killed and the ship blown up. The governments will not let this happen, I assure you. They know, now, that I will do as I say. But be vigilant, there may be some sort of rescue attempt. Now, clean away these bodies and get back to work.”
This pep talk was given in Somali, so none of the prisoners knew what was said.
The captives looked on with trepidation as the dead pirates were disposed of in the usual manner.
“We will need to let things calm down, a bit, before we make our move. The guards will be jumpy after what just happened,” Warren advised.
“I don’t like to wait, but I’m sure you’re right. Our plan won’t work while the guards are on high-alert,” Max responded. “What do you think we should do if they start thinning out the herd, again? Do we jump whatever guard approaches and hope some of us make it?”
“I don’t know. I’m just hoping that’s not going to happen.”
As the men plotted and schemed, Bunny wandered around the area praying, thinking and just trying to process everything she had witnessed since being brought aboard.
This was supposed to be her dream honeymoon. She had thought it was a nightmare before when her only concerns were seasickness and sharks. How she wished she could return to those early days of the trip. Everything really is all a matter of perspective, she mused.
Well, this would be a story for the grandchildren…if she’d been able to have any.
Bunny mentally chastised herself. This was no time to begin sliding down the slippery slope of self-pity. Nothing waited at the end of that, except the will-sapping slough of despond.
She squared her shoulders and tried to get into a proper frame of mind…and heart…for the task ahead. She supposed this might well be her last day on earth, so there was no point in making it any gloomier than it had to be.
She ran through the plan in her mind.
Max and Warren were calling upon Bunny’s nascent acting skills, once again, to put on a little playlet for their pirate guard.
Max was going to, ostensibly, drop dead of a heart attack and Bunny would grieve and wail and cling to his “corpse.” When the guard came to make certain Max was dead, as he had done when Earla Mae died, he would probably warn Warren and the others off, but, hopefully, would think Bunny, as the elderly grieving widow, would be no threat as she wept over her dearly departed.
When he was close enough, Bunny was to rise up and thrust her knife into his stomach. This would give Max a chance to move in for the kill. Warren would take the pirate’s gun. Once armed, it was hoped that their little band might catch enough of the pirates unaware…disabling them and taking their guns…to even out the odds, at least a little.
Bunny agreed to do her part, although the thought of plunging her knife into this man’s liver, spleen or whatever, made her sick to her stomach. She flashed back to the feeling of hot blood pouring over her the last time she stabbed a man to death. It was not pleasant.
Back then, it had been self-defense. When a really bad man had broken into her home and was trying to kill her, she had struck out without thinking. She supposed this would be self-defense, too, at least technically. Still, premeditated killing didn’t go down very well and the anticipation was getting to her.
Trying to take her mind off the job ahead, Bunny wandered over to the Ambroses, hoping for some spiritual inspiration and comfort.
She found them in the middle of what she supposed passed for an argument with this serene pair.
“The Apostle Paul cautioned the Thessalonians, and also wrote to Timothy, warning about idleness, remember. Then there’s Solomon’s writing in Ecclesiastes 11:6…I’ll quote it for you in case you don’t remember, ‘Sow your seed in the morning, and at evening let your hands not be idle, for you do not know which will succeed, whether this or that, whether both will do equally well.’ We are supposed to persevere, and perseverance is not just hanging on and doing nothing, it’s working deliberately, knowing with certainty that God will not be defeated. There’s nothing in Scripture about just lolling about doing nothing!” Virginia was saying to her husband.
“Didn’t God also advise the Thessalonians to be content and to give thanks in all circumstances? In Psalms it says to be still and know that God is in control, remember? And the greatest authority, Jesus himself, said not to worry about one’s life, but to consider the birds of the air and the lilies of the field who toil not and yet God knows what is needed and will provide, for them and for us. I paraphrase, but I’m sure you know chapter and verse, as you always do,” Strother responded.
“Hi, guys. What’s up?” Bunny chimed in. “Hope I’m not interrupting. Isn’t this weather something?”
“Bunny, dear, you aren’t interrupting. We aren’t quarreling, merely having a bit of a discussion about theological interpretation as applied to our current situation.”
“Virginia tells me you were married to a Baptist pastor; perhaps you can shed some light on the subject,” Strother suggested to Bunny.
“I don’t feel very bright, right now, so don’t expect much of a glow. But I’ll try. What’s the issue?”
“Shall I explain, Strother, or will you?” Virginia asked.
“The issue at hand,” her husband began, “is whether it is God’s will for us to be content in our circumstances, whatever they may be, praying always for his will to be done, or if we should take matters into our own hands and wil
ly-nilly attempt to change those circumstances.”
“I knew I could count on you to present the point of contention impartially, Strother, dear,” Virginia said, grinning up at her spouse
“When you put it like that,” Bunny replied, “I believe the best course of action would be for me to mind my own business, for a change, and let you two work it out.”
“Seriously, Bunny. How do you reconcile ‘wait upon the Lord’ with being good stewards of our lives here on Earth?” Virginia asked.
“Honestly, it depends on the circumstances. I’ve been known to rush ahead of God’s will and suffered for it, but on the other hand, sometimes I think I’ve missed blessings because I didn’t seize the opportunities God placed before me. So maybe I’m not a good one to ask. I’ve sort of started trying to just do the next ‘right’ thing and let God sort it out. That probably doesn’t sound very theologically sound.”
“I see you lean more toward Virginia’s view point in doing that next right thing. Is there a next thing to do in this particular situation, do you think?”
“I think there is. Max and Warren have a plan. We’ve been praying about it, though, not just rushing ahead. I expect that if this isn’t an opportunity God wants us to grab, he will block our path before any harm is done. It is always possible that God’s will is to reward us all by taking us to join him today, whether or not we do anything.”
“Ready or not, here we go, you mean?” Virginia asked.
“We are certainly ready, Virginia. We’ve been preparing all our lives,” Strother reminded her.
“Yes, dear. I shouldn’t have been so flippant.”
Bunny gave in to the urge to give Virginia a hug, patted Strother on the shoulder and continued trying to walk off the butterflies in her stomach.
She expected to get a cue from Max at any moment that it was time for her big scene.
She stumbled, just then, over Marco’s feet. He had been on his knees beside his mother. It looked like they were praying.
“Oops! Clumsy me. Sorry about that, Marco!”
“That’s okay, it didn’t hurt,” the boy replied, shyly.
Marcella patted the box beside her and asked Bunny to sit.
“Thanks, but don’t let me disturb your prayers.”
“Do you pray, too, Mrs. Bunny?” Marcella asked.
“Oh, yes! All the time. Even when I’m not being held captive by pirates, like some fair maiden in a fairy tale,” Bunny grinned at Marco as she attempted to make light of their situation.
Picturing Bunny as a “fair maiden” brought a small smile to his face in response.
“Do you like fairytales, Marco?” she asked.
“Nah. I did when I was little.”
“Did you have a favorite, way back then?”
Marco thought for a while then replied, “Jack and the Beanstalk.”
“When I was a little girl and heard that the first time, I thought it was ‘Jack and the Beans Talk’ and that it was about a boy who talked with vegetables. Of course, when I listened to the story I realized my mistake. Then I felt too foolish to let anyone know what I’d been thinking.”
“That’s goofy.”
“What is? Thinking it was a story about talking beans, or being afraid of what people might think?”
Marco paused, and then answered seriously.
“Both. But I think if you were really little it would have been easy to get confused. It was goofier to worry about what other people might think, I guess. They probably would have laughed and thought it was cute, anyway.”
“You are probably right. I wish I’d been as wise as you.”
“My son is becoming wise on this ship. When we return to our home he will be a child no longer,” Marcella remarked.
Bunny got up and, with a small wave, began to move off.
“We will return to our homes. I believe that,” Marcella called to her.
Bunny smiled and gave the woman a “thumbs up” gesture before continuing on her meandering way.
Finding Marki in her path, Bunny hesitated. She wasn’t sure of a welcome by Max’s daughter. She had proven to be highly emotional and unpredictable. Bunny thought perhaps it would be wisest to avoid another possible confrontation.
Marki was leaning against some sort of machinery, gazing out to sea, when Bunny’s footsteps attracted her attention. She looked up, saw her and smiled.
Encouraged, Bunny joined her in admiring the endless view.
“How are you feeling, Marki? Are your injuries beginning to heal?”
“I think so, thanks. I’d almost forgotten about my bruises in the general horror. My physical aches just blend in with the emotional pain. I wonder if I’ll even live long enough to see the swelling go away.”
“Of course, you will! We are going to get out of this. You’ll see,” Bunny encouraged her, adding under her breath, “Deo Volente.”
Chapter Sixteen
… how often shall my brother sin against me, and I forgive him? … up to seventy times seven. ─Matthew 18:20-22
“Captain Phillips, sir.”
“Yes, Lieutenant?”
“I have the preliminary report on those wounded men we removed from the launch, sir.”
“What have you learned?”
“One man was already dead before we brought him aboard, and two are in sickbay being treated for gunshot wounds, but we were able to interrogate the remaining man. His injuries were relatively minor.”
“What did he tell you?”
“The fellow doesn’t speak much English. At first, he tried to tell our interpreter he was one of the passengers on the cruise ship. We let him know that wasn’t going to fly and, eventually, he told us the truth. He is one of a band of two dozen pirates, acting under a man called Shimbir. We researched and found references to Shimbir Axmed Qaasim from the same village, a known terrorist sympathizer. The description seems to fit. Their original plan was to ransom the boat and passengers and, after receiving the money, they were planning to kill everyone and destroy the ship. The goal was terror as well as the money. Apparently, the ship’s captain and crew were killed in the first assault.”
“We’ve seen them kill a dozen more passengers. Did he say how many remain alive?”
“There are only about fifty left. Most are being held on the open deck; although about ten or twelve young women are held in staterooms used as brothels.”
“He volunteered this information?”
“He blames the atrocities on the leader, this Shimbir. Says he is a very bad man. When the men learned just how bad he was, many tried to leave and he killed most of the defectors. That is why they were in the launch fleeing for their lives.”
“How many pirates remain on the ship, loyal to this very bad man?”
“This guy couldn’t or wouldn’t give us a precise count, but he did say he had seen six men shot trying to escape, so with the four we have, there can’t be more than fourteen left aboard. He seemed to think more than the four of them jumped over the side trying to reach the launch, so there may be even fewer.”
“Transmit the information to NSF and tell them we await orders.”
Ellery was pacing in front of the picture window of the apartment. Today the amazing view of downtown Seattle failed to stir her. She was too worried about her aunt.
When the phone vibrated on the cocktail table she dove for it, tripped and snatched it up as she rolled onto the sofa.
“Yes? Gilles, have you heard anything?”
“Nothing about Bunny and Max, I’m afraid. But, I did hear from one of my contacts. The cruise ship has been located and a rescue operation is in the works. He couldn’t give me any more details than that, but this is good news, if they are aboard that ship.”
“I don’t even know how to pray, Gilles. If they are not on that ship, they could be anywhere…or nowhere. But, if they are on the ship, they’re in the hands of ruthless pirates who have been killing their captives. I wish I would get an e
mail from Bunny, right now, telling me all one of her silly stories about some humorous encounter with a mermaids’ tea party or a dancing sea serpent!”
“I know, El. This is terrible for you. Shall I cancel the rest of my classes and come home?”
“No, don’t do that. I’m okay, really. But thanks so much for offering. Let me know if you hear anything else, please.”
“Of course.”
“Even if it’s bad. Promise.”
“I promise. See you later. I love you. Call me, if you need me…bye.”
“Love you, too. Bye.”
“Tell me something, Bunny,” Marki said, after many minutes standing quietly staring off into space.
“Sure, what do you want to know?”
“You said that my dad left you for another woman…he cheated on you. How could you ever forgive him and trust him enough to marry him again? That doesn’t seem very bright, you know.”
“No, I guess it doesn’t,” Bunny replied, shrugging her shoulders.
How had she forgiven Max and learned to trust him? It hadn’t been easy. Bunny’s mind turned to that first marriage, remembering how naïve she had been.
She remembered the notes Max “just happened” to leave in his shirt pockets for her to discover on laundry days. It never occurred to her that he wanted her to find those names and phone numbers of the women he was seeing, or the receipts from unfamiliar motels and bars. Bunny had denied and rationalized away what was staring her in the face. She couldn’t admit to an awareness of Max’s infidelity. Not until that terrible day…
“Max, I’m home,” she’d called out from the living room when she returned early from visiting her father in a Redding hospital where he was recovering from kidney surgery.
It was mid-afternoon, but Max’s car was in the driveway, so she knew he was home.
When he didn’t answer her, she walked into the bedroom to change out of her traveling clothes.
As she came through the door of their room the first thing she saw was a woman’s undulating bare back and hips.