Chapter Twenty
The unsettling silence eventually led to sleep, the crew once again being rocked into slumber by the action of the waves. Through the night, a gentle rain shower had filled their bottles through the makeshift funnels they had fashioned, and the flying fish were still in abundance for food.
As the sun rose, the crew began to awaken, each one going through the morning routine trying valiantly to avoid annoying the others with their quirks. Kimberly seemed especially isolated in her routine, her eyes darting back and forth from her tasks to the others around her as though she was waiting for one of them to enter her space. The others were totally ignorant of her actions, and this just seemed to push her more to perform quick, flicking motions as she repetitively tidied her space. It was virtually becoming not just repetitious but obsessive, maybe paranoid. Frank decided not to arouse anyone’s attention to it.
Yuto was helping Soo Mi more than he had before. She usually did most of the daily chores while Yuto helped Frank and Irving either plan for future problems or in dishing out portions of water and food. For some reason, Soo Mi was allowing him to clean ‘house’ more than usual, but the expressions on Yuto’s face were not the normally bright look but more sad. Taking time to watch him closer, Frank noted tears flowing from his eyes, and Soo Mi, possibly hoping no one was watching, occasionally wiped them from his cheeks.
When Yuto and Soo Mi, almost simultaneously, noticed Frank and Helen looking at them in concern, Yuto cleared his throat and said to Helen, “You telling life to us last night on my mind all night. I, too, need to get things, how you say, ‘off my body.’”
“That’s ‘off my chest,’ Yuto,” Irving intervened.
“Yes, so sorry for my English. My marriage to Soo Mi great dishonor on our families. We fall in love too fast and married too quick. Both of us have been shamed from living with family and now no money. How you say?”
“Disinherited?” Helen asked.
“Yes, Japanese man not marry Asian woman. Now we poor and work hard to make live, and now this crash has broken both our hearts and maybe our will,” Yuto said, wiping tears from Soo Mi’s eyes. “We not care for family wishes when we marry. We not like what they think.”
“We not want sorry, but Helen show us telling your story may help us work with awful pain we have,” Soo Mi finally said as she broke down in more tears.
~~ ~~ ~~
Being the closest to Soo Mi, Irving put his arms over Yuto’s arm and around Soo Mi and tried his best to comfort these two who were obviously distraught over their family problems and now in this dire situation. Irving knew too well that family loyalty was often a necessary thing to have, but, at times, crossing the line in that loyalty often set many members apart and, for some, apart forever. All the feelings of being ostracized from any family affairs or events came flooding back to his psyche, causing him to hug the couple next to him even more, and for a period of time, longer than one would have expected.
Seeming somewhat embarrassed over their confessional, Yuto and Soo Mi sank into themselves for the rest of the day with only a few warm gazes toward Irving in thanks for his actions. Irving nodded back, accepting their gratitude.
Everyone else was back to their own thoughts as the sun rose above then began to set once again. Every once in a while, one crew member turned and leaned on the side of the raft and looked out to sea in an obvious, desperate attempt to find something other than water.
~~ ~~ ~~
“There, there, there it is! I see it!” screamed Kimberly, pointing to the right of the morning sun. “It’s a boat. It’s a boat!” she yelled and crawled up and almost over the side of the raft to the point that Helen had to grab hold of her to stop her from falling out.
Everyone scanned the water once again for any sign of a vessel, but the only thing Frank could see was several waves condensing together, possibly creating an image of a boat. He waited before stating the real facts so others would be able to figure it out for themselves. Kimberly kept creeping up the side of the raft, and Helen, and now Frank, restrained her from going overboard. Finally, the others conceded that Kimberly was once again making something up, and they turned to the center of the raft as Frank and Helen held Kimberly tight.
This is becoming a spectacle that’s only going to get worse. Kimberly’s hitting the wall!
Chapter Twenty-One
As the sunset stole the light from the ocean again, the crew, as always, snuggled closer to one another. It was an innate action—for fear of the night, warmth from the often chilly wind, or to be close to another human being in urgent times. The crew usually fell asleep at the same time. Only Frank fought it, trying to be the last to drift off, almost as a sentry goose that watches over its gaggle.
Soon all but Frank were asleep, all totally unaware of a floating object with dim running lights far out in the waters. The gusty wind was a bit more active this night, so the low hum of the vessel was not easily heard. The lighted object seemed to bob and heave with the waves as if going very slowly but deliberately.
Frank fully opened his sleepy eyes in a squint upon hearing what he thought were voices, but having slid down a bit behind the side of the raft, he was unable to see anything in the darkness. Again, there again, he heard what he thought were some voices but wrote it off to the sounds of the ocean and the raft playing tricks on him. Then the voices disappeared. He knew he was right to think he’d imagined it, and he dozed off into a light sleep.
Moments later, he awoke again, straining to hear and see, but there still was nothing. Then he heard the voices again, this time seemingly closer. The words were distinct but not English. The words were in Spanish. Frank thought this to be odd since, if he were dreaming, English would be the language spoken, even though he spoke fluent Spanish.
“Mira lo que tenemos aquí, mis amigos!” A husky voice.
A dim light shone over the raft.
Frank wanted to spring up and cheer, but he knew better.
Oh, my God, we are saved, but this isn’t a very welcoming voice.
He didn’t move. He also didn’t want to let the person the voice belonged to know that he’d understood what had been said.
“Dejamos un grupo y, como magia, tenemos otro. Esto debe ser Navidad, Héctor. ¡Nuestros patrocinadores adorarán estos regalos!” Frank heard and quickly translated it to: We drop off one group, and, like magic, we have another. This must be Christmas, Hector. Our sponsors will just love these presents!
What group? What presents? What sponsors. Who’s Hector?
“Crees que están muertos? (You think they’re dead)?” asked the second man. Hector?
“No. Creo que todavía están respirando. (No. I think they are still breathing),” said the first man.
Their boat gently nuzzled the raft, and Frank squinted his eyes open a bit, hoping to see what was going on without the visitors noticing he was awake.
They think we are alive!
The voice’s figure stood with his legs apart on the bow of the boat, staring down into the raft and motioning for the second man to come forward. He had his upright index finger to his lips as if shushing him to be quiet. What was more intimidating than these actions were the shadows of gun barrels over their right shoulders. Two other human shadows appeared behind the men, but Frank could not hear what the first man said as he turned to them to give orders.
Suddenly, the boat’s motor revved up and rammed the raft in an effort to rouse the crew. That was all they needed, and the survivors woke from their dreams to encounter their saviors. At first, Kimberly, Helen, and Soo Mi were gleeful, almost giddy, raising their arms in celebration. Yuto soon chimed in, but Frank saw Irving eyeing the men and their firearms and realized he knew better.
Irving wiggled over to Frank, and Frank whispered, “I speak Spanish but don’t want them to know.”
Irving immediately understood what the others didn’t. They may be in more trouble than they had been floating at sea for the last several weeks.
>
“Buenas noche damas y caballeros. Que bueno verte. ¿por qué estás aquí? ¿Qué te ha pasado?”
Frank wanted to desperately answer, but he knew better. The man had asked, “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. Good to see you. What are you doing here? What happened to you?” He hoped having them think none of them could understand Spanish would be an advantage to him to find out what they had in store for them.
As their eyes became accustomed to the light, the others seemed to notice that their knights in shining armor were not so lustrous and certainly not knights. The barrels of the weapons they were carrying were parts of AK-47s. The man who was talking was tall, bearded, and dressed in camouflage cargo pants, wearing a green rain slicker and a wide-brimmed hat with an accompanying lanyard around his neck. Those behind him were dressed in similar apparel and were also armed. Their bearded faces did not obscure their offensive demeanors. None of them were smiling. They looked over the passengers in the raft that had been minimized by the enormity of their vessel, and the more they scanned the inhabitants, the more they resembled a pack of jackals forming a plan of attack.
Irving took his cue from Frank and spoke, “No kaprannie Espanol.”
Maybe he knew from his past experiences with the Shayetet 13, the elite fighting force of the Israeli Army, that if there were more of these monsters, it would be some feat to conquer them all, especially with the weakened state of the crew members. The women would be of no help, and Yuto would particularly be homed in on protecting Soo Mi rather than effectively helping all to defeat this heavily armed bunch of pirates or, worse, murderers.
It looked, from the expression on Irving’s face, that he had something to tell Frank. Did he want to divulge his past and plans to Frank? Irving inched over toward him, pretending to be repositioning himself to avoid the multiple lights being shone their way. The visitors were too engaged in tying up the raft and listening to the barking of orders by their leader’s voice.
“I’m ex-Israeli special ops,” Irving said. “I can help. You will need to follow my lead. Understand?”
“Yes,” Frank, stunned by those words, said as he looked into Irving’s eyes that spoke of his power, confidence, and hope.
“Amigos, my Ingles not so gud! You peoples get aqui. You hungry, no? We have comida, uh, food!” the leader said slowly and deliberately. It was not a voice of caring but more of a warning of things to come.
Frank knew something was not right, but it was doubtful the others understood their situation yet. Once on their ‘rescuer’s’ boat, they were likely to be prisoners, but they had no other choice. They were running out of fish and water, they had no nourishment to give them the strength to fight, much less think and move in a quick, coordinated manner, and they were exhausted. It was obvious they would have to endure the pirates’ wishes and plans, at least until they could become stronger physically and mentally.
~~ ~~ ~~
Irving was the first to get to his feet, wobbling as the waves beat the raft against the other boat’s hull. He extended his hand out to one of the helpers, clasped his forearm as the man’s hand grasped his arm, placed his right foot on the side of the raft, and, using the raft as a trampoline, attempted to bounce up as the pirate tried to hoist him aboard. This technique allowed Irving to evaluate the strength of this man. As he came on board, Irving looked his adversary’s face over to place his features into a mental database for the future, a technique that was considered a ‘must’ in his training. He then pretended to fall toward another crew member in order to test that man’s strength as well.
At this point, Irving turned to help his friends, but he was pushed away aggressively by the leader.
“Retroceder (back)! Move! Alli (there)!”
Irving did not resist. He knew better.
One by one, each passenger was brought on board the rescue boat and were gradually aligned in a line on the bow facing the center console and the commander. Soo Mi clung to Yuto, Kimberly and Helen held hands, and Frank stood next to Irving, all waiting for the next order to be given. The other pirates stared at the man in the cargo pants and green slicker who had just exposed his entire AK-47 in front of him.
“You need eat, now!” He waved his hands to his men who started to herd the survivors past the console and the steps to below.
~~ ~~ ~~
The passengers tried to keep upright, but the boat, with its engines idling in the water, pitched in multiple directions, and they lurched against the side wall of the stairs as they finally reached the bottom floor of the vessel. An old wooden table with benches around it and a small kitchen in the back welcomed them, and one of the men was hustling around behind a counter, moving dishes and opening cabinets and putting portions of food from containers onto plates. Another man motioned to them to sit and then went to get plastic glasses and put them in front of each person. A pink fluid was poured into the glasses, and the plates were served with fish, crackers, and rice with a thick gravy on top. Despite the overall distasteful appearance of the food, the survivors ate every morsel. They drank the fluid and even held their glasses up, asking for more, never really knowing what the drink was.
All the time, Frank was thinking where they were to sleep and how they were going to fare on this boat. Would they be tied up? Would they be made to work? Where would they be going? As he finished his drink, he peered over his glass at Irving and felt he had the same concerns, as he, too, stared back for a fleeting second before the boss spoke.
“Todo terminado (Everything finished)? Estómagos llenos (full stomachs)?” He rubbed his stomach and belted out a laugh, more sinister than fun-loving. “OK, amigos, up! Now go siesta, yes?”
Again, his helpers rounded everyone up, aiming them down a hallway to one big room with three bunks on one side and three on the other. Helen and Kimberly took the right side immediately, but Soo Mi hung back, trying to cling to Yuto, but was pulled away by Hector, gently but forcibly pushing her to the right and simultaneously shoving Yuto to the left where the other men stood.
“Debes dormir ahora (You must sleep now),” the leader said with a raspy gargle. “You, cama, uh, bed, now!” He pointed to the bunks on both sides of the cabin.
Irving quickly followed the orders, got in the upper bunk, and everyone else, including Frank, followed. Hector stood watch, and it wasn’t long before the rest of them were all asleep. Did any of the others hear the cabin door shut and lock behind them?
Chapter Twenty-Two
As Irving began to doze off, the terror of this new situation brought back memories filled with images of a previous time. There they crouched, his entire commando group. They huddled together to organize as they appeared from nowhere out of the sea. The assassination of an Hezbollah cleric was the only thing on their minds. They had trained for it and were intensely ready for the mission. They had landed in the dark and were now progressing inland to their prescribed destination. Every man had his duty memorized and had practiced for this very moment for months. Irving was concentrating on his part of it. He was the lead man of the second group assigned to take out any enemy that should threaten the first commando group who were setting up and separating to perform an entry tunnel for the rest.
Then all hell had broken loose. The entire group had been detected, and an ambush of Hezbollah and Amal fighters was everywhere, firing their AK-47s unmercifully into their ranks with no relief in sight. Booby traps exploded all around him. His leader was killed instantly. Others died from the detonations of their own explosives they were carrying. Chaos continued, bullets whizzing to and fro as the remaining soldiers took as much cover as possible.
Irving had almost been out of ammo. He sought the ammunition of others who were lying dead around him. He felt like panicking, running, dodging bullets and explosives, but he knew better.
“Keep calm, man.”
In the distance, Irving thought he heard the roar of helicopters, but mortars continued to erupt, full auto ammunition rang out, and screaming and unin
telligible language continued throughout the night.
Irving huddled down in a flat secluded spot, lying on his back awaiting death, and then the sound of a friendly voice woke him, and he bolted straight up.
“What?” he whispered. “How many are dead?” he asked.
“No one, Irving, it’s me, Frank. No one has come back, and everyone is asleep. You were dreaming, man. Jesus, back with the Israelis, uh?”
“Yeah, yeah. Eleven of sixteen dead. God, I gotta get my shit together,” Irving whispered.
“They have not tied us up. I guess they’re thinking we are not very strong to take them outright, especially with the three women,” Frank said.
“Yeah, we’ll need to use that to our advantage somehow. Hopefully, at least one or two of the others will cooperate and distract them. We need more time to evaluate this boat. I don’t even know what size it is, what kind of motors, how many, who’s running it. Gotta think,” Irving said.
“I can help. Just tell me what to do or what to look for,” Frank said, patting Irving on the shoulder as he rolled back in his bunk and faced the hull.
Irving shook his head to rid himself of the Ansariya mission’s misery in Lebanon. It had become a recurring nightmare and rightfully so. He and four others out of sixteen combat brothers were able to get out alive that night in 1997. He took a deep breath, rubbed his eyes, turned over, and tried to sleep again.
The Mystery of Flight 2222 Page 10