Finding Linda

by Ron Sewell

  Antarah greeted him. “I am interested in buying a vessel such as this. Our appointment is for tomorrow..” The old man had a fringe of grey hair around his balding, mottled scalp. He had a wizened face and the air of resignation of one whose working life was near its end. “Your name please.”

  “Antarah Hasan and this is my assistant.”

  The old eyes sparkled. “Yes, you're expected tomorrow. I’ve been with this vessel ten years, since her launch. She’s a good ship but because of her size no longer profitable.”

  “Single or double hull?” asked Linda.

  The old man answered her in English. “Double. The side tanks are for fuel which extends her range and the bottom for ballast.”

  “When did you last unfasten the hatches?” He grinned. “Six days ago and I planned to release them for your inspection tomorrow. And before you ask, apart from being the watchman I undertake maintenance. This ship could be at sea in twelve hours.”

  “I must check the integrity of the holds,” said Linda. “Follow me.”

  Antarah seated himself on a bollard and became an observer. Linda and the man strolled aft to a square hatch. With the aid of a hammer, he shifted the securing clips. “You sure you want to do this? That’s a vertical ladder, be careful, and it’s a straight drop to the bottom.”

  In one swift motion, Linda disrobed and revealed a one-piece coverall. She left her head cloaked. “You first.” Ten minutes later the old man played a torch across the bulkheads of a clean and dry hold. On inspection, the others were the same.

  “What make of engines has she?”

  “She’s diesel electric. Two Wartsila generators power the motor connected to the main shaft. The variable pitch propeller alters the speed between half and twenty eight knots in a calm sea.”

  Linda smiled. “You understand your ship.” “Been with her since day one of her life.”

  ***

  Six hours later, Linda, Antarah and the old man drank hot tea in the captain’s cabin.

  “This vessel is suitable,” said Antarah recalling every word Linda told him. “But we need to see it working. Can you arrange a sea trial?”

  The old man caressed his chin. “I’ll have a talk with the owner and arrange for a few engineers and a deck officer to attend. How much will you be offering?”

  Antarah laughed. “I’ll discuss that with the owner.” “I need two days.”

  “You said this ship could be at sea in twelve hours,” said Linda.

  “With a crew and her tanks filled with fuel oil, she could be.”

  She looked into his eyes. “I’ll be back tomorrow to continue my inspection.”

  He repressed a smile. “I look forward to your company.”

  “It’s an hour before sunset and I have not prayed today. We will stay in a hotel until we find a suitable vessel.” The old man’s eyes followed Antarah and Linda, wearing her black robe, as they left. He stroked his chin as he thought, the man’s a fool and worse than useless but she has experience. Strange people. He strolled to the captain’s cabin, gathered his mobile from the desk and pressed the memory key.

  11

  Inside a disused warehouse on the edge of Tripoli, fifty combat-ready soldiers waited. Six black SUVs and four armoured personnel carriers, started their engines. A rack of high-powered searchlights adorned the roof of each vehicle. At ten in the evening, the message arrived. Their assault on the Isis camp began with a four-hour drive.

  Each man carried weapons made in Russia and wore the Libyan army uniform.

  A young officer turned to the driver of a low loader. “You have my location. Follow in one hour.”

  The man nodded and returned to his truck.

  “Let’s go,” the officer shouted as he clambered into the lead SUV. With a moonless sky, the convoy charged along the smooth black asphalt that ran into the empty desert. Behind them trailed a plume of fine sand. By using sat-nav, they approached within five miles of their destination. Ahead, their battlefield, and a unit of armed men the world despised.

  The officer, toting a heavy machine gun, and ten men alighted from their vehicles. Each man carried the least number of weapons needed for survival. He briefed his team. “We stay together until we’re near to their camp.” He pointed. “You men will kill the guards and take their places. When the main force arrives we will strike.” Every man nodded.

  Their leader with one man carrying an ammunition box by his side, led the column. One hour later, they rested in the shadow of a dune while he located the guards. He searched for their neglect to detail. The five guards with their weapons slung over their shoulders, huddled in a group smoking and talking. Sloppy, he thought, as he held up one hand, its fingers splayed.

  He waited until the guards resumed their positions and then signalled, ‘Go’.

  From the crest of a dune, he observed his team slither as sidewinders across the sand. Using night vision glasses, he saw them rise and slit the guards’ throats. Not a sound disturbed the night as dead men dropped to the ground. In thirty minutes, his runner passed his orders to the main group.

  As a precaution, he positioned his heavy machine gun and traversed the camp with the night sight. Satisfied, he waited for the main body of his troops.

  With muffled footsteps, his men arrived. In silence, they prepared for the assault. The officer glanced around and on receiving the okay, opened fire.

  Six mortars thumped the ground as their bombs flew. On target, they exploded. Heavy machine guns fired in long bursts as they traversed across the tents. Men with flamethrowers created an inferno. Guns operated on automatic and grenades detonated. The raid was efficient and deadly.

  Fire the ultimate cleanser engulfed clothes as men ran screaming from their tents. Their bodies danced as bullets shredded faces and chests. Lifeless they dropped onto the sand.

  The air filled with smoke, cordite and the stench of burnt flesh.

  A red flare signalled ceasefire. Four men approached the camp with flame-throwers operating. They marched in a line creating a wall of fire. Those of Isis who were still alive died in the inferno.

  The Isis camp became silent, a graveyard of the unburied. A white flare lit the sky.

  Minutes later the SUVs arrived and circled the camp. In an instant, their searchlights illuminated the camp’s destruction.

  Behind a dune sloppiness, a low-loader dropped its ramp. A gleaming steel bulldozer crawled onto the desert sand, an impressive burial machine. The driver took his time as he gouged a long, wide, deep trench. “Deep enough?” he asked the officer.

  The man gave the order and every vehicle, tent, body, tumbled into the pit. When they thought they had finished, fifty men formed a line and scavenged the area. Whatever they found they tossed into the pit.

  “You have your orders,” said the officer to the driver.

  He nodded and waited for the soldiers to leave. At a steady pace, sand and rocks filled the pit. While taking a rest he heard a mobile ringing. A quick scour and he pulled it from beneath the sand. “Hello.”

  “Is my husband there?”

  “Everyone is dead.”

  “Is my husband in paradise?”

  The driver laughed. “No, we cremated him.” The line died. With a grunt, he tossed the mobile into the trench and clambered into his cab whistling. “You spilled the blood of innocents,” he shouted as a scoop of rocks and sand fell into the pit. “Hope you rot in hell.”

  When he finished, the ground blended into its surroundings. Daylight glowed over the empty landscape and the horizon merged with the heat haze. From his cab, the driver took a plastic box and a thermos flask. His breakfast eaten, he drove the machine back onto the low loader. ***

  Antarah raised a spoonful of yogurt and glanced at Linda as she ate her western style breakfast. “I do not understand how you can eat such rubbish.”

  “It’s easy. I place it in my mouth, chew and swallow.”

  Antarah’s mobile rang. “Who is this?”

  A brief an
d heated exchange followed until the call ended.

  He scowled. “I must return to the camp.”

  Linda sipped at her third cup of coffee. “You’re shaking. What’s wrong?”

  He exhaled. “The man who delivers water told me the camp is no longer there.”

  She was silent for a moment. “They can’t have disappeared. Where would they have gone?”

  “The man’s a fool and must have driven to the wrong location.”

  She shoved her cup across the table. “Find out the truth. If you stay here, you’ll go mad. While you are away, I’ll complete my inspection of the ship.”

  Antarah sat with his head in his hands. “The man is a believer and had no reason to lie but where are they?”

  Linda narrowed her eyes. “You’ll be away for most of the day. That will allow me the time I need. While you are away, contact your boss. Tell him I must have the best electronic jamming equipment money can buy. Without it, this mission is useless. If your men have gone, I’ll contact those I trust. They might not be faithful to your cause but they love the smell of money.”

  “You will talk to no one.”

  “What about the ship?”

  “You may complete your inspection.”

  She held out her right hand. “Money for my lunch and clothes.”

  He handed her a wad of notes. “Take this and do your job. At this moment I don’t need your petty problems.”

  Linda waved. “I’ll see you later. If I’m not here, I’ll be on the ship.” She smiled as with shoulders slumped he left. ***

  Antarah drove out of Tripoli as fast as he could. His fingers pressed the buttons on his mobile. He listened and heard the phone connect to his second in command’s voice mail. “Pick up,” he shouted. He disconnected the call. Three times, he repeated the process. His mind considered various options. Ahmed goes nowhere without his mobile. There must be a fault or it’s a weak signal..

  After three hours of hard driving, he arrived at the camp’s location. Horror and surprise numbed his mind as his eyes scanned the empty and desolate landscape. Dust swirled in the afternoon air. He had chosen these men. They shared his faith in the power of Allah. Disorientated, he dropped to his knees. As if it had never existed, the camp had gone. He exhaled a long breath and shaded his eyes. The wind stirred the wispy sand, it stung his eyes and the sun burnt his face. He stared into the sky and shouted, “God is great,” a hundred times until his throat was sore. What could he tell his leader? How could a camp of armed men vanish? It made little sense. He looked around one more time before trudging through the sand to his car. Mystified, he settled into the driver’s seat and returned to Tripoli.

  ***

  Linda disrobed in the captain’s cabin and flashed her best smile at the old man who sat on the bench settee.

  His expression softened. “Blue jeans, no bra and a white Tshirt are not what Muslim women wear.”

  “I’m not a Muslim. My belief in God bounces off zero and I don’t give a shit. I’m here to check this boat from stem to stern. If I’m satisfied the man with me will buy it.”

  “That man is not a sailor. Is he your boss?”

  Her voice rose. “It’s none of your business. Can we continue with the inspection and what time does the owner arrive?”

  “Midday and you’re right. Where first?” “The engine control room.”

  A few minutes after midday, the old man and Linda arrived back at the captain’s cabin. The man seated behind the desk nodded as they entered.

  The old man acknowledged him with a firm handshake and a smile. “Che piacere vederti, Signore Roberto Arno.” In English he said, “This is a representative of the company who wish to buy your ship.”

  The man’s eyes twinkled as he churched his fingers and replied in English. “Two million American dollars is my asking price.”

  Linda sat on the bench settee while the old man remained standing. “They constructed your ship in the early eighties, deadweight tonnage 50,600 grain carrier. I can get a better deal on the internet. The price of new and second hand bulk carriers is at rock bottom. Times are difficult, Mr Arno. My offer is half a million.”

  Roberto shook his head, smiled, stood and left.

  Linda nodded to the old man and slipped into her black Burka. “We wasted our time.”

  “I enjoyed your company. It was great to talk to someone who understands ships but I know this man. Please wait a few minutes longer.”

  Roberto returned to the seat he had vacated. “My apologies. I needed time to think. You are correct when you state there’s a glut of bulk carriers on the market. Most are at anchor while others are five minutes from a scrap-yard. This vessel is ready for sea and worth every penny of my asking price.”

  “So why did you come back? My final offer is three quarters of a million American dollars.”

  “One million.”

  “Eight hundred thousand.”

  “When can I expect the money?”

  “I will speak to my banker tonight. Please write your bank details necessary for a transfer of funds on a sheet of paper. We’ll meet here tomorrow at the same time. If things go to schedule the money should be in your bank in two days.”

  Roberto stood and held out his hand.

  She ignored it. “Don’t be late.”

  ***

  When Linda entered the hotel, she asked if Antarah was in the building. The boy at reception pointed to a key hanging on a hook. "He out."

  She returned to her room. Her thoughts wandered to Danny, her lover. Her mind built a picture of her wearing her airport uniform and the fun they had undressing each other. A strange feeling plagued her. She had enjoyed their closeness. Naked, she dropped onto the bed. Reaching out she pressed the keys on the telephone handset. As she stroked her breasts, she listened to a series of beeps as the call connected.

  The soft voice of a stranger confused her. “Awiti Jaz.”

  “Can I speak to Daniela Uba, please?”

  “Who?”

  “The girl who pays the rent.”

  “This is my flat and I pay the rent. Who is this?”

  “Her friend, Linda.”

  “The caretaker told me that someone murdered her. Shot through the head so he said.”

  Stunned, Linda sat up and swung her legs off the bed. Tears filled her eyes and ran over her cheeks. “When?”

  The woman gave her the date. Linda broke the connection and collapsed on the bed. Her scream filled the room and rage her heart. Numbness pounded her brain, and tears flowed unchecked. She closed her eyes and tried to conjure up her image. Losing Danny threatened to engulf her as her hate grew. It was not a hate that twisted and concealed but one that gave precision of thought. The need for revenge crawled like a rat gnawing at her insides. Relentless pain stimulated her urge for vengeance. The death of someone might heal the wound. She had time to plan and enjoy the result. She would not serve it cold. In her mind, she planned for absolute zero. Zero compassion, zero warning, and zero second chance. Zero forgiveness.

  A knock on the door pulled her back to reality. “Who is it?”

  “Antarah. Open the door. I must speak with you.”

  A slow burning rage consumed her. “I’m not dressed. Come back in five minutes.” Her compassion was nonexistent. He must die even though he had not pulled the trigger.. To her he was Isis and gave the order. She opted to wait, and in her time deliver the kiss of death to these people. She wanted payment in full. When she opened the door, Antarah ran into her room.

  “What the fuck happened? You look like a sack of shit.”

  He screamed into her face. “The camp, my men have gone.”

  “I’ve been wasting my time training those morons to fire RPGs. Who gave the order for them to cut and run?”

  He glared at her. “No one gave an order. They have disappeared as if they never existed.”

  Linda stood in front of him with her arms crossed. “That’s impossible. There has to be an explanation.”

>   Choosing his words he said, “I have failed. I’ve done nothing wrong. I have served Allah but they will kill me.”

  “Your God has abandoned you.” She almost smiled when she thought about it. No one would suspect her of sabotaging the mission. “We can steal plutonium and I’ll complete your operation. I have friends who have men deadly with RPGs and will supply a crew for our ship.”

  “Why would you?”

  “For twenty million dollars I’ll support the devil shagging his brother. I need my retirement fund. Inform your boss you have a plan to continue with the mission. Don’t ask for approval.”

  He remained silent for a moment. “What if he asks?”

  “It’s called improvisation. We invent our strategy as we proceed. So long as your organisation meets the costs, we can do this. The ship you saw yesterday is satisfactory. I gave the nod to eight hundred thousand US dollars.” She handed him a sheet of paper. “Have the whole amount transferred to this bank account.”

  There was anguish in his voice. “If I do nothing I’m dead. If I accept your plan and we fail we both die.”

  She understood the game plan. “My job is to steal a cargo from one ship and place it on another. When I finish I gain twenty million dollars, plus expenses. From that moment it’s your problem.”

  He shrugged. “I’ll call them. I have nothing to lose.”

  “Talk to your God and arrange the money. I need it for my team to crew our ship. Tomorrow morning, I’m off to buy an expensive laptop. For the moment food is my priority.”

  Antarah returned to his room and locked the door. From his safe, he removed his laptop. In minutes, he transferred money from an account in the Yemen via Linda’s bank to Roberto Arno’s business in Italy.

  ***

  At noon, Linda and Antarah boarded the ship and entered the captain’s cabin. Roberto Arno, dressed in a lightweight blue suit, waited with the old man. “You are not wearing your black robe.”