Fair Game (44 page)

Crazy Boy’s mobile phone began to vibrate and Two Knives pointed at it. Crazy Boy switched off his iPod and took the call. It was his uncle, calling from the ship. ‘They are offering four million dollars but I think they will pay more,’ said Blue.

‘I told you that,’ said Crazy Boy. ‘They will pay five million. Five million is covered by insurance so it costs them nothing.’

‘There is something else. They want us to free the other hostages.’

‘What hostages?’

‘The yacht that Roobie seized. He has been trying to get a ransom for the five crew that he took. But no one will pay.’

Crazy Boy frowned. ‘But why does the shipping company want to pay for them?’

‘I don’t know. But they say they want to pay four million and hand it over when they get the crew of the yacht.’

Crazy Boy pursed his lips as he considered his options. It was important always to have the upper hand in negotiations and never to give away points to the other side, but there were advantages in having the money paid ashore instead of being delivered to the ship.

‘What do you think?’ asked Blue.

‘We want the ship to continue on its way as quickly as possible. Tell them you’ll take the one ransom for the
Athena
and for the yacht. But don’t roll over too easily. Play hard to get.’

‘What about Roobie?’

‘I’ll speak to him. I’ll do it now. We can do the exchange at the airfield. Well done, brother of my father.’

He ended the call. The doorbell rang and Two Knives went to open the front door and reappeared with the four girls. Two of them looked as if they might be sisters, short and busty with perfect skin and blue eyes. One was wearing black hot pants and a silver halter top under her coat and the other had on tight-fitting jeans and a low-cut T-shirt that showed several inches of cleavage. ‘Put those two in my room,’ he said, pointing at the two girls.

‘Are you the boss?’ asked the girl in the halter top. Her lipstick was blood red and matched her fingernails, and she had long eyelashes that looked as if they might be false.

‘You’re not here to talk, you’re here to fuck,’ said Crazy Boy, turning his back on her. He went through to his study and switched on his computer. He preferred to make calls on Skype whenever he could as it was more secure. He regularly changed his mobile phones but he knew that talking on any phone line was always taking a risk, but Skype conversations were hidden among the billions of gigabytes that whizzed around the world every minute of the day. Skype conversations were only vulnerable when one of the parties was on a mobile or a landline, but Crazy Boy made sure that all his people regularly changed their phones and Sim cards.

He launched his Skype program and dialled the number of Roobie’s latest mobile phone. It rang out for almost half a minute, and when Roobie answered he sounded angry. ‘Who is this?’ he barked in Somali.

‘It’s me, cousin,’ said Crazy Boy.

‘Your number didn’t show,’ said Roobie. ‘Where are you?’

‘In London, cousin. The yacht you seized, you have not agreed a ransom yet?’

‘They are saying they have no money,’ said Roobie. ‘I might have to kill one of the crew to show that I am serious.’

‘No need,’ said Crazy Boy. ‘I have a proposal that will kill two birds with one stone. Your father has taken a ship, a big one, and they will pay big money. As part of that deal, they want the yacht too.’

‘The yacht is mine, cousin.’

Crazy Boy felt a wave of anger wash over him but he held his tongue. What was happening on the
Athena
was far too important to be jeopardised by Roobie’s stupidity. There would be time to deal with Roobie down the line; all that mattered now was that the ransom was paid and the ship sent on its way. ‘Of course it is, cousin. But this is good news for both of us. This way we can get the ransom paid in Puntland, and you can get rid of the hostages.’

‘How much will they pay?’

‘They have offered four million dollars.’

‘For the yacht?’

Crazy Boy bit down on his lower lip so hard that he tasted blood. He was not used to having his decisions questioned and Roobie would pay for his insolence at some point. But not today. ‘For the ship and for the yacht,’ he said.

‘Four million is nothing,’ said Roobie. ‘They are making fools of us.’

‘Four million dollars is a lot of money, cousin. We might be able to get them to pay five.’

‘And who gets that money, cousin? How much goes in your pocket and how much comes my way?’

‘We can talk about that once the ransom has been paid.’

‘No, cousin, we can talk about it now. I’m asking for four million dollars for the yacht and the crew.’

‘But as you say, they do not have the money to pay. The money I am talking about is ready to go. The shipping company will pay, guaranteed cash. It is a bird in the hand, much better than any number of birds in a bush.’

‘The bird is no good to me if it flies to your hands, cousin,’ said Roobie.

Crazy Boy took a deep breath. If he had been standing in the same room as Roobie he would have put a bullet in his brain there and then, but that wasn’t possible. He had to stay calm, he had to negotiate, he had to persuade. But down the line, at some point in the future, he was going to take a great deal of pleasure in killing Roobie. ‘I would like this deal to go ahead, cousin,’ said Crazy Boy. ‘I agree that the yacht is yours, and that the ship is mine. We should share the proceeds.’

‘Fifty-fifty?’ said Roobie. ‘Half for me, half for you. Whatever they pay, we split down the middle.’

‘That is only fair,’ said Crazy Boy.

‘And I want you to bring me to London,’ said Roobie.

‘I can do that,’ said Crazy Boy. ‘As soon as the ransom has been paid, I will arrange it.’

‘Then I agree,’ said Roobie.

Crazy Boy could almost hear the sneer on his face and he bunched his hands into tight fists. ‘Thank you, cousin,’ he said. ‘I shall not forget this.’ He ended the call and slammed his fists down on to the table, his face contorted with rage.

Charlotte Button took off her headset and looked across at Yusuf. ‘Would you mind translating, Mr Yusuf? Somali isn’t one of my languages, I’m afraid.’ Yusuf translated both conversations while Button made notes on a pad. They were able to pick up all the conversations that Crazy Boy made from the computer and had patched in to the ship’s sat-phone so they could eavesdrop on all conversations made to and from the
Athena
.

When he’d finished, Button looked across at Thatcher. ‘Perfect,’ she said. ‘He fell for it.’ She turned to Amir Singh, who was peering at a computer screen as he tapped away on his keyboard. ‘Do we have a location for Roobie?’ she asked.

‘Working on it,’ he said. ‘Give me a few minutes.’

‘What did he mean about wanting to get the ship on its way?’ Thatcher asked Button.

‘I assume he meant he wanted the money as quickly as possible,’ she replied. She looked up at the clock on the wall. ‘When should we call the ship?’

‘Let’s do it tomorrow,’ said Thatcher. ‘We don’t want him to think we’re desperate.’

‘OK, I have the location of the mobile,’ said Singh, looking up from his computer. ‘Northern Puntland, so no surprises there.’

‘Can you be more specific?’

‘To within a few miles,’ said Singh. ‘We don’t have his GPS identifier so all we can do is identify the transmitting tower.’ He read out a longitude and latitude reference and Button scribbled it down.

There was a large-scale map of Africa up on one wall and she went over to it. ‘It’s about eighty miles inland from Eyl, where they took the yacht,’ she said, tapping the map.

She went over to one of the MI5 technicians, a bookish man in his twenties in a corduroy jacket, and gave him the piece of paper. ‘Can you get me a satellite picture of those coordinates, as current as possible?’

The technician nodded and began tapping away on his computer keyboard.

‘So tell me, Charlotte,’ said Thatcher, leaning back in his seat and stretching his arms up. ‘I get what the plan is. You send in your people with the ransom and they rescue the hostages and keep the money. But what about the
Athena
? The pirates will still be on board. They’re not going to leave until the ransom’s paid.’

‘Sorry, Chris, operational matters have to stay classified. But don’t worry, we’ll get your ship back. And the money.’

‘Glad to hear it,’ said Thatcher.

‘OK, I have a sat feed,’ said the technician. ‘I’ll patch it over to the main screen.’

A satellite photograph of African scrubland filled one of the flatscreen monitors.

Button smiled as she looked at the screen. Right in the middle was a small airfield with a single dirt runway and several buildings. ‘Well, I think we know where the hostages are,’ she said.

Blue looked at the GPS screen. There were two dozen ships heading east, coming from the direction of the Suez Canal on the way to the Arabian Sea. It was a convoy, and a convoy meant warships. Dominik was back in the right-hand seat, smoking and staring out of the window, straight ahead. ‘Keep away from the ships,’ said Blue.

The captain looked at the radar screen on the right that gave a view for twenty miles ahead of the
Athena
. ‘We won’t even see them,’ he said. The rest of the crew were still in the chief engineer’s cabin, under guard. Since the ship had started moving again, Dominik had been on the bridge twenty-four hours a day. When he was too exhausted to keep his eyes open he slept in the seat with his feet on the console.

Blue also spent most of the time on the bridge, but when he needed to sleep he went downstairs to the captain’s cabin while two pirates with AK-47s kept watch over Dominik.

‘Can I ask where we’re going?’ asked Dominik. They were heading on a course of 225, south-west, towards Somalia, at quarter-speed.

‘No,’ snapped Blue. ‘It is not your business.’

Dominik shrugged. ‘You’re the boss,’ he said.

‘Yes,’ said Blue. ‘I am.’

The sat-phone rang and Blue hurried over to it. It was the man called Chris in London. ‘Is everything all right there, Blue?’

‘Five million dollars. You have it?’

‘Good news on that front, Blue. Yes, the company will go to five million dollars if you release the ship and the crew of the yacht.’

Blue grinned. ‘The ship is worth more,’ he said. Crazy Boy had told him not to make it too easy for them.

‘Five million is all the company will pay,’ said Thatcher. ‘But they have the money ready now and they can deliver it to you in Somalia.’

‘If you try to trick us, the hostages will die,’ said Blue. ‘And we will take the cargo to Somalia. We will steal everything.’

‘Blue, no one is going to trick you,’ said Thatcher. Blue could hear the fear in the man’s voice and he grinned. ‘We won’t do anything that would put our people at risk. We just want our people safe and our ship working again.’

‘When can I have the money?’

‘Where can we deliver it to you?’ asked Thatcher. ‘The company would be happier if we could fly in the money by plane rather than bringing it overland. Somalia is a dangerous place to have five million dollars.’

Blue laughed. The Englishman was right. Somalia was indeed a very dangerous place. ‘Do not worry, Chris,’ he said. ‘I know a place where the money will be safe.’

Shepherd was hungry but he only had one apple left. He chewed it slowly, eating it core and all, and swallowed a few mouthfuls of water. If the hijacking went on much longer he would have to risk going back into the accommodation for supplies, and he wasn’t looking forward to that. He looked at his watch, focusing on the luminous dots in the gloom. It was almost one o’clock in the morning. He eased himself out of the container and on to the walkway, then stood there listening until he was sure there was no one near by. The ship was moving again.

He crept along to the bow and sat as before next to one of the massive anchor chains. As he looked up at the night sky he realised that the
Athena
wasn’t heading towards the North Star. He got up again and searched the sky, looking for the Plough. Eventually he found it, towards the stern, and saw the handle of the Plough pointing towards the North Star. It was behind them. They were sailing south.

The sat-phone keyboard glowed as soon as he pressed the first digit. He tapped out Charlotte Button’s number.

‘Spider, everything OK?’

‘Just eaten the last of my food but I’ve got water for a few more days,’ he said.

‘Where are you now?’

‘Me or the ship?’

Button chuckled. ‘Both.’

‘I’m still in the container,’ he said. ‘The pirates never leave the accommodation. Hardly ever, anyway. One might take a walk around the Upper Deck but they’re looking out to sea mainly. They’d have to look bloody hard to find me. The ship is moving again. By the look of it we’re going south now towards Somalia.’

‘Are you OK?’

‘I could do with a shower and a good meal, but other than that I’m doing fine. It’s been quiet, no shots, no shouting, everything’s calm.’

‘And the crew and officers?’

‘No idea, they’ll be locked up somewhere. Was there a helicopter checking up on us this afternoon? About five?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘There was a big chopper flying over the ship. I don’t know what they were up to.’

‘It wasn’t one of ours, we’re keeping well away while the negotiations continue. We don’t want to spook them.’

‘How are the negotiations going?’

She didn’t answer.

‘Charlie? Can you hear me?’

There was still no answer. Shepherd took the phone away from his ear and looked at it. It was off. He cursed as he realised that the battery must have died. And the charger was in his cabin.

He stared at the sat-phone and considered his options. There was no point in being on the ship if he couldn’t communicate with Button and O’Brien – all the intel in the world was no use if he couldn’t pass it on to where it was needed. He had to go back to his cabin, no matter what the risks. It was late at night, so hopefully most of the pirates would be asleep and those that were awake would probably be up on the bridge.