The Sahara Legacy

by Ernest Dempsey

  Tommy waved his hand frantically in an effort to make his friend move faster.

  “Hurry up!” Tommy yelled.

  Gunfire erupted from behind Sean.

  Tommy and Slater snapped their heads around and saw the men moving toward their position with guns blazing. Rounds plunked into the ship’s bow and the cabin walls.

  “We gotta go, Slater!” the captain said from inside the cabin.

  “Ten seconds!” Slater yelled back over his shoulder.

  He crouched down and made his way to the front of the boat to one of the storage boxes. A bullet tore through the fiberglass hull and sank into the cabin wall, missing his left arm by mere inches. He flipped open the box and pulled out a Colt AR-15 rifle.

  Slater swung the barrel around and lined up one of the gunmen in his sights. He squeezed the trigger once, then again and again. The gunman dropped to the ground as one of the rounds found its way into his abdomen. Slater turned his attention to another attacker and fired again.

  Hank and Tommy joined him at the front just behind the gunwale and opened fire with their smaller weapons. They didn’t hit any targets and they both figured as much due to the limited range of their guns, but they could buy Sean some time.

  Sean was close now. He heard bullets zipping by. The wooden light poles splintered as they caught some of the rounds. Others thumped into the wooden decking underfoot.

  The boat was starting to drift into the water despite the captain doing his best to keep it close to the dock. Sean saw Slater and the others firing back at Dufort’s men, doing their best to keep the attackers at bay.

  “Come on!” Tommy shouted.

  Sean’s legs pumped harder the last few steps. His left foot stepped on the eye of the dock, and he jumped. His arms flailed in the air as he flew over the few feet of water and landed with a thud on the boat’s deck.

  As soon as the captain saw Sean safely on board, he shoved two levers forward and spun the wheel hard to the left.

  The twin engines engaged with a throaty groan, and the black water instantly churned to white. The bow raised up as the captain steered the vessel around to the left and out to sea.

  Tommy and the other two shooters fell back against the cabin from the sudden and unexpected acceleration.

  Sean rolled back toward the rear of the boat and managed to plant his feet on the back gunwale to brace himself. The captain shifted the levers all the way forward and adjusted another to get the most plane out of the vessel as it picked up speed.

  Back on land, the figures of the gunmen grew smaller and smaller. A few of them kept shooting until the boat vanished in the darkness of the Persian Gulf.

  Sean gathered himself and climbed forward to the cockpit where the captain was staring out at the sea with analytic eyes.

  “Thanks for bailing us out,” Sean said.

  The captain turned his head, and Sean saw his face for the first time. Even in the darkness the long scar that ran from the man’s temple to his jaw could be seen.

  “We were going to leave you in another thirty seconds,” the man said. “Oh, and you’re welcome.”

  Chapter 8

  Dubai

  The boat dipped and rose through the sea’s shallow swells. Sean and Tommy sat across from Hank inside the cabin close to the captain. Every one of them gazed back to the foaming water behind them and beyond, making sure they weren’t being followed. Even after cruising at a decent speed for the last half hour, none of them were confident they’d completely lost Dufort and his men. Not yet, at least.

  “How did they find us?” Sean asked suddenly, turning toward Hank on the other side of the boat. “They should have been on the other side of town.”

  Tommy echoed his friend’s sentiment. “Yeah. Even if they found the empty locker at the other train station, how in the world would they have realized our exact location and when we would be there?” His eyes drifted to Slater.

  “What are you getting at?” Slater asked with a sharp edge to his tone. “You saying I set that up, that I double-crossed you guys? I just saved your hides.”

  Hank put up his hands to calm everyone down. The boat’s captain kept his eyes forward, although he tilted his head to the left a tad to listen in on the conversation.

  “I’m sure there’s an explanation for all this,” Hank said. “So, let’s just keep calm. Slater’s right, Sean. He did just get us out of trouble. He and the guy behind the wheel here deserve our thanks.”

  “I already thanked him,” Sean said. “That doesn’t mean something strange isn’t going on. First the ambush yesterday. Then this. How is it that Dufort keeps turning up at the right time and the right place?”

  Hank leveled his gaze with Sean’s. “I want to know the answer to that question, too, my friend. But I can tell you right now that no one on this boat is responsible for what happened yesterday or tonight.”

  “My name is Sid, by the way,” the captain said over his shoulder, still keeping his eyes ahead. “In case you feel like throwing blame my way, might help to have a name to go with the accusation.”

  Sean smirked. He liked Sid’s smug, unapologetic attitude. And he’d only heard the guy say a few words.

  “Is it possible they planted something on us?” Tommy asked. “Maybe before they took us out to the desert?”

  Sean took in a deep breath and sighed. “I suppose it’s possible. Check your clothes, and see if there’s anything attached. Or maybe there’s something deep down in one of the pockets you didn’t realize was there.”

  All the men stood up and ran through the process of checking every inch of fabric they were wearing. Then they sat back down and examined their shoes to make sure nothing was hidden in them, either.

  No one found a thing.

  “I didn’t figure you had a bug on you, Slater,” Sean said.

  “Yeah, well, I didn’t want you guys to think I was hiding something.”

  “So, what now?” Hank asked, throwing his hands up. “Proctology exam?”

  Sean snorted and Tommy chuckled.

  Hank’s comment broke the tension and brought the men a much-needed break from the stress.

  “Seriously, though,” he went on, “they found us somehow. Maybe they followed us, you know…with a human being and not some tech gadget.”

  “It’s possible,” Sean confessed. “I’d have thought we’d have spotted someone tracking us.”

  “Would have been difficult for a tail to stay hidden from the desert all the way into the city,” Tommy said. “And that theory has its own issues. How did they know you were going to come to our rescue?”

  Hank shrugged. “Maybe this Dufort guy is a planner. Some people like to cover all their bases.”

  Slater shook his head. “Could be. But Sean’s a pro. And it seems like Tommy here can handle himself, too. If they were followed, I’d think they would have seen someone.”

  “Then there’s the little matter of the incident at the restaurant,” Tommy said.

  “Restaurant?”

  “Yeah,” Hank said. “These two thwarted a robbery at one of my favorite places to eat in the city. Stands to reason if someone was following us, we’d have seen that person in the melee.”

  Sean saw where his friend was going with the line of thought but didn’t think it very valid. Somehow, Dufort anticipated their move to the docks. He knew when and where to strike. The pier was a big place, too. It would be easy to get lost in the maze of shipping containers, warehouses, and machinery. Yet Dufort went straight to them.

  The only explanation is that they were followed. At least that’s what Sean told himself. He knew that it was possible one of the other three men had betrayed him and Tommy, but as he looked into the eyes of Hank and Slater, he didn’t see an ounce of dishonesty. The boat’s captain was a bit harder to read. Sid was a salty fellow, and the scar on the side of his face belied a checkered past, probably filled with a criminal record. While Sean believed he could trust Hank and Slater, Sid was another matter�
�no matter how much Sean liked the guy’s attitude.

  He’d keep an eye on Sid just in case.

  “How far until we get where we’re going?” Tommy asked.

  “Yeah. And where are we going?” Sean added.

  “Down the coast,” Sid answered without turning his head.

  Sean looked out over the side of the boat and then back to the captain. “We’re nowhere near the coast.”

  Sid cracked a frail smile. “Nothing gets past you, does it?”

  “I’ve been known to miss a thing or two. Your accent…you sound like you’re from northern England. Probably close to Liverpool if I don’t miss my guess.”

  “Very good,” he said. “Scouser for life.”

  Sean recognized the slang term. He knew a few guys who were big Liverpool Football Club fans. They called themselves Scousers. He’d also spent a little time there and quickly picked up on some of the differences with the accent and local culture.

  “We’re heading to Qatar,” Sid said. “Quicker to stay farther out to sea like this. Plus, we’re going to need to pick up some more fuel.”

  Sean and Tommy turned to look at the fuel canisters stored on the back of the boat, tied down with straps.

  “You don’t have enough on board?”

  “Possibly,” he said. “But it’s a long ride to Qatar from here. Several hours. There’s an island about seventy-five nautical miles away. We’ll stop there to refuel before continuing on to the mainland.”

  Island? There weren’t many islands out in the middle of the gulf. Sean knew that much. The only ones he was aware of were operated by…then the realization hit him.

  “So, you’re a smuggler?” he asked point blank.

  Sid said nothing, but the smile on his face broadened.

  “He prefers the term entrepreneur,” Slater said.

  “Of course he does,” Tommy chirped. “I can only imagine what kinds of things you must smuggle in this part of the world. Weapons, I suppose?”

  Sid shook his head. “No, nothing like that. Although I can see why you’d think that, what with so many terrorist camps in this region.”

  “Not to mention the weapons you have stored on board.”

  “Those are for defense. And it’s a good thing I had them. Otherwise your friend here might still be on the docks with a few more holes in him.”

  “So, if you’re not moving weapons, what are you smuggling?”

  Sid turned his head for the first time in a while and stared at Tommy for a long moment. “What’s the one thing that’s difficult to get in this part of the world?”

  Sean smirked. “Booze.”

  Sid raised a finger and pointed at him. “Bingo. Slater, show him what he’s won!”

  “So, you smuggle alcohol,” Tommy said with a hint of derision in his voice.

  “Hey, bootlegging is a profitable operation, especially in this part of the world. There are lots of people willing to pay a premium for good alcohol. I’m just filling a need. If you boys want a swig or two, I keep a bottle in the galley down below for personal consumption. Of course, I reserve the best for myself and my guests.”

  Tommy remembered how drunk he’d been in Australia during their adventure down under. The hangover had been brutal.

  “Thanks, but I’ll pass right now. Don’t want to tempt fate with seasickness and all.”

  “Suit yourselves. We should be at the island in a little over an hour.”

  The conversation died off. The constant drone of the engines and the consistent slap of the waves hitting the hull were the only sounds the men heard for a while.

  Sid occasionally checked the GPS screen on his dashboard to make sure they were going in the right direction. Sean got the impression their boat’s captain didn’t need the technological assistance. Experienced sailors knew their way around the seas and oceans like they knew their own bathtubs.

  A little over an hour went by before Sid pulled back on the levers to slow the boat’s speed. The other men on board stood up to look out through the windshield but saw nothing of interest in the black sea ahead.

  The thickest blanket of stars Sean had ever seen stretched out overhead. The moon was nothing more than a sliver on the horizon to the east and did little to light up the waters of the Persian Gulf.

  “Why are we slowing down?” Tommy asked.

  “Because,” Sid said with eyes locked on something in the distance, “we’re here.”

  Tommy frowned and narrowed his eyes, trying to see what their driver was talking about.

  Then he noticed it. There wasn’t much, just a dark outline against the slightly less dark backdrop of the sky where it merged with the sea. It was there, though, a small land mass rising up out of the water.

  As the boat drew closer, they could see the island was empty, vacant of any signs of life or civilization. It was small, probably less than two miles across, although it was difficult to see how long it was from their vantage point.

  “This island has been used by smugglers for a long time,” Sid explained before any of the men could ask. “There’s an understanding between everyone who uses it. Don’t mess with anyone, and no one will mess with you.”

  “So much for that old saying about no honor among thieves, eh?” Tommy chuffed.

  “We’re not thieves,” Sid snapped. “Most of the smugglers in this region buy our goods and sell them for profit. It’s an import/export business.”

  “He didn’t mean anything by it,” Sean said. “We get it. Booze is something that can be hard to come by in these parts. No judgment on our end.”

  The comment seemed to settle down the captain. “At any rate, we usually don’t see other smugglers out here. It’s pretty rare. My stash is straight ahead. I’ll anchor the boat as close to shore as I can. You blokes wait here while I go get the petrol. Slater, you come with me to help haul the fuel cans.”

  Slater nodded and started rolling up his pants.

  Sean frowned. He knew there were some other islands in this part of the gulf, not many, but a few. A couple of them were privately owned. One or two were part of the Emirates and were used as refinery installations.

  This, apparently, was not one of those islands. It was rare to find any piece of land that wasn’t owned by someone, especially of the island variety. That meant this particular plot must be especially worthless. Sean couldn’t help but wonder why.

  Sid shut off the engine as the boat drifted closer to the shore. There were only a few palm trees standing against the sparkling black backdrop. He could see the outlines of some buildings a few hundred feet away from the water’s edge.

  “What are those structures?” Sean asked as Sid dropped the anchor and started getting ready for his journey to the shore.

  Sid looked up and followed Sean’s gaze.

  “They used to house people who worked at the refineries on the other islands,” he said. “When production dropped and people started leaving, most of the homes were abandoned.”

  “Now it’s a smuggler’s paradise,” Tommy said.

  “I guess you could say that. Not a very hospitable place. Fresh water had to come from the ocean in big desalination machines. When everyone left, those machines were shut off. Now it’s just a patch of desert floating in the sea.”

  He put one hand on the gunwale and swung both legs overboard, landing deftly in the water. Slater grabbed his AR and joined him. The two waded toward land through the knee-deep water, leaving the others in the boat.

  When they were out of earshot, Tommy turned to Hank. “Listen, I know you and Slater are buddies, but how much do you really know about Sid?”

  “Only what he just told you guys,” Hank said. “I hadn’t met him before today.”

  “And Slater?”

  “Look, guys, I know what you’re thinking, but you got it all wrong. Slater and me, we go way back. I trust him with my life. And like he said, he saved our necks back there. If he wanted the tablet for himself or to give it to Dufort, he woulda taken i
t and left us for dead or killed us himself. Same with Sid. He didn’t have to take out that AR and start shooting at Dufort’s guys, but he did. So, how about we give them the benefit of the doubt on this one? Okay?”

  “Fair enough,” Sean said. “He’s got a point, Schultzie. They could have both killed us already if they wanted.”

  “Fine,” Tommy relented. “I’m just trying to figure this out. Frankly, I’m a little concerned you two aren’t.”

  “Oh, the gears are turning, my friend. They’re always turning.” He looked down at the case at Tommy’s feet. “Speaking of, how about we take another look at that tablet.”

  “Sure.” Tommy picked up the case and set it on his lap.

  He flipped open the lid and stared at the ancient stones.

  “Hank, let me borrow your phone. It’s too dark to see out here, and I don’t think we should turn on the boat lights.”

  “Why?” Hank asked as he fished his phone out of a pocket and passed it to Tommy.

  “Call it a hunch.”

  “He’s right,” Sean said. “If there are other smugglers out here, or if, on the off chance, Dufort has a boat coming after us, it would make us an easy target. Let’s go down below to look at this thing.”

  The others nodded and headed down the steps into the bowels of the vessel. Tommy laid out the case on the table, and the three men eased into the cushioned booth seats.

  Tommy’s finger ran along the lines of script once more, and this time he read the passages out loud.

  “This part right here is key,” he said. “At least I think it’s the key to everything. It says that the four stones must be brought together where paths from the four corners meet. Only then will the oasis city reveal itself to the weary traveler.”

  “Four stones?” Hank asked. “What four stones?”

  Tommy nodded. “I’m not entirely sure. The next part, however, gives us a clue as to where we should begin our search. It says the first will be found above the plains of the pharaohs, in the grandest of all their tributes to the stars, in the shadow of Anubis when the sun is setting to the west.”

  “Tributes to the stars?”