Running Dark (7 page)

“GIVE ME ALL THE FACTS YOU HAVE,” BANNER SAID TO RICKELL.

Rickell nodded at Plower. “Go ahead.”

“About an hour ago, the pirates attempted a standoff attack on the
Kaiser Franz
with rocket-propelled grenades. They managed to hit the ship twice before they were repelled.”

“Repelled? How?” Stromeyer had stopped messing with the paper in front of her and was writing notes on a nearby notepad.

“That’s the funny part. The passengers heard sonic blasts coming from the upper decks. We assume that this was the sound of the Long Range Acoustic Device that’s part of the
Kaiser Franz
’s security equipment. But another passenger called his father in England and claimed that he heard gunfire coming from the ship as well.”

“Why is that strange?”

“Guns are illegal on a cruise ship. It is unlikely that the
Kaiser Franz
has any.”

“Could the passenger have mistaken the sound of the LRAD for gunfire?” Banner said.

Plower shook her head. “I thought that, too, but after the explosions erupted, the passenger said that the pirates manning the ships sustained obvious bullet wounds. They turned away immediately.”

Banner kept quiet. He had a sneaking suspicion who was responsible for the shots. It was all he could do not to glance at Stromeyer. She took a deep breath, but before she could speak, Plower continued.

“Apparently the passenger’s father spent some time in the English
Royal Navy. He told the son that only a highly trained sniper could have delivered such accurate hits. I checked with our experts here, and they agree. We immediately pulled the manifest.”

“May I see it?” Banner kept his voice mild.

Plower slid a piece of paper across to him. The manifest listed all the passengers in alphabetical order. Sumner wasn’t on it. Banner moved the list over to Stromeyer, who scanned it as well. She said nothing as she handed it back to Plower.

“Does it matter, really? Whatever was done saved the passengers and crew.”

Rickell waved a hand in the air. “It matters a lot to the insurgents. They’re claiming that the boat is a decoy for the U.S.”

“Decoy for what?” Banner said.

“They believe that the boat is actually dumping nuclear waste into the waters off Somalia.”

Banner rubbed his forehead. “Oh, great.”

“Relax, Banner, we’re not dumping nuclear waste. Although some countries are, and that’s another problem we’ll have to address soon. Whatever is in that hold is far more dangerous than some nuclear waste. We need to save that ship, and soon.”

“Any aircraft carriers in the area? You could arrange for air surveillance and security while the ship heads to port.”

“Not going to happen. The insurgents guarding the economic zone would fire on them in a heartbeat. This administration will not have another
Black Hawk Down
disaster.”

Stromeyer put up a hand. “Wait a minute. I know about the territorial limits, but what’s the economic zone?”

Plower visibly brightened, and Rickell nodded for her to answer. “It’s the zone that only the Somalis can fish. The waters off Somalia are filled with tuna, and the big companies were taking boatloads of it, leaving the Somali fishermen starving. To address this problem, most foreign ships are not allowed to fish within a two-hundred-mile nautical range off the coast.”

“Well, we’re not going to fish, we’re saving people. Tell them to make an exception in this case.” Banner couldn’t keep the annoyance out of his voice.

Rickell nodded. “The transitional government granted the request but warned us that the insurgents currently control the area.”

“How long will it take for the
Redoubtable
to get near?”

“Assuming the
Redoubtable
finishes up with its own security issues in the next sixty minutes—eight hours to three days.”

“Three days. Why so long?” Stromeyer asked.

“They’re far away. You have to understand, we’re talking over a million square miles of ocean. They can’t be everywhere. They focus their efforts on the most likely areas of piracy. And those areas have been the trade routes.”

“So no real help there,” Banner said.

Stromeyer started gathering her papers together. “To recap: We’ve got one stranded cruise ship with hundreds of civilians and one, maybe two chemical weapons either lost or sitting within the territorial zone of one of the most dangerous countries in the world, and the U.S. can’t, or won’t”—Stromeyer gave Rickell a pointed look—“enter the area to help them.”

Rickell nodded. “Can’t. And yes, that’s it.”

Stromeyer looked at Banner. He caught the look but was planning the steps he would take to board the ship and the price he would charge to do so. He finished up and laid the number on Rickell. Who exploded.

“That’s highway robbery! Darkview has a contract with us. Standard rates in that contract should apply.”

Banner shook his head. “This isn’t standard. First, I need to find a ship that’s located off one of the most dangerous coastlines of the world. Second, I need to secure the ship while fighting off attacking pirates. And third, I need to bring in a highly qualified individual to assess this chemical—whatever it is—and who will agree to infiltrate the ship at great risk to him-or herself.”

Rickell snorted. “By the time the expert gets there, the vessel will already have been boarded and the people held hostage. What chemical specialist would be crazy enough to actually join those poor people?”

“Someone in the area with something at stake on the ship.”

“Who would that be?”

“Emma Caldridge.”

SUMNER WHISTLED. BLOCK WAS AT HIS SIDE FIVE MINUTES LATER.

“What is it?”

“Listen.”

The cigarette boat engine roar grew louder.

“Here they come.” Block unsnapped the Taser from its holster and removed the safety.

Sumner pulled a walkie-talkie off his belt. Depressed the button. “We have visitors. Coming from the port side. Douse the lights.”

Twenty seconds later the entire ship went dark. Sumner heard the babble of voices in the distance. The passengers in the dining rooms were responding to the blackout.

From the right came the dancing beam of a small LED flashlight. As it drew closer, Sumner could just make out Janklow’s form, followed by a member of the ship’s crew.

Janklow walked up to Block and Sumner. “How far?” he whispered.

“Listen,” Sumner said. But the sound of the engine was gone.

“I don’t hear anything.”

“Me neither, not anymore,” Block said.

“Listen for the sound of oars.”

“They’d still have to see us,” Janklow said.

“They could have night-vision goggles.”

Janklow moved closer to the railing and looked along the ship’s side. “That’s way too sophisticated equipment for these guys. They’re Somali fishermen, for God’s sake.”

“They had RPGs, a cigarette boat worth over eighty thousand dollars, and at least one AK-47. Night-vision goggles would be the least expensive piece of hardware from that list,” Sumner said. The roar of the cigarette engine began again. He estimated it was over a mile away.

“We’ll find out soon enough.” Block sounded grim.

Sumner knew that the ship stocked a couple of Tasers, but no other type of weapon save the flare guns. Everyone, including Sumner, was dressed in dark, plain clothes per Captain Wainwright’s orders. Sumner recognized the crew member accompanying Janklow as a man all the crew members called Clutch. Sumner thought Clutch had a mean streak. He was a bouncer and sometime bodyguard who walked around in a state of repressed anger. Sumner didn’t know his story, but it couldn’t have been a happy one. Clutch had a flare gun attached to his belt.

Something about the engine noise bothered Sumner. It was too obvious. The pirates had to know that the entire crew of the
Kaiser Franz
would be prepared for their return. Over two hundred employees on a large cruise ship carrying at least three hundred passengers. How did four skinny men expect to prevail against them? Sumner shifted his thinking to address the problem from their perspective. Thought about what he’d do given the same odds.

“I hope you’re ready to shoot, Sumner. Because your gun is the only one that’s got the range to kill them before they reach us,” Janklow said.

The cigarette boat fell silent again. Sumner set his jaw and strained to hear. He disliked the silence. The quiet stretched on for five, then ten minutes. Clutch sauntered over, wearing an attitude as if the situation caused him no concern whatsoever, which was idiotic, as his title was head of security.

“They figured out that they’re crazy to take us on. We outnumber them by so much that they’d have to be insane to even attempt this. That’s why they stopped.” Clutch spoke softly, but even so his voice held a note of arrogance that Sumner found annoying.

“Maybe,” Janklow said. “Sumner, what do you think?”

Sumner hated to rain on the ‘we’re superior to them’ parade, but he didn’t agree at all.

“I think they’re going to stay a safe distance away and blast the hell out of the ship with their grenades. They’ll kill two-thirds of us, then they’ll radio back to a larger ship that’s floating nearby, and that one will proceed to board us.”

Sumner couldn’t see anyone’s face, but he could have sworn that the silence that met him held a thread of stunned disbelief.

Block’s voice came out of the darkness. “He’s all sweetness and light, ain’t he?”

EMMA RETURNED HER CAR TO THE RENTAL OFFICE AT PIETERMARITZBURG
airport and hopped a shuttle to the terminal. Her phone started rattling. To her relief, the caller ID showed that it was Banner.

“Ms. Caldridge, Banner here. How can I help?”

Emma felt herself relax. At that moment this was one of the only men she trusted. He sounded tired, his voice scratchy.

“What time is it there? You sound exhausted,” Emma said. She heard him sigh over the line.

“I got called out of bed for an emergency and just got back here. I’ve been sleeping since then.”

Emma hated the word “emergency.” Especially when Banner used it. Darkview’s emergencies were always dangerous and volatile. She didn’t bother asking him about it. Darkview handled classified matters on a regular basis. He’d never tell her about it unless it was absolutely necessary.

“I’m afraid I’m being targeted,” she told him.

“In what way? I heard about the bomb at the marathon.”

“It’s that, but there’s something else. I’ve been hit with some sort of medication.” Emma described getting stabbed with the EpiPen at the bombing. “I tested my blood later. I was floating in dopamine and epinephrine, which you probably know as adrenaline.”

“What are the effects of these chemicals?”

“They can trigger a fight-or-flight response, but at the levels I saw,
any reaction is possible, even heart attack or death. In my case it increased my anxiety levels tremendously, and…” Emma trailed off.

“And?”

She took a deep breath. “And it made me want to run.”

Banner was silent a moment. “I don’t want to appear facetious, but you were competing in an ultra at the time. Most people would say that wanting to run is normal for you.” His voice held a friendly, amused tone.

Emma smiled to herself. “I guess that’s true, but trust me when I say that this was strange, not normal. And my endurance increased a hundredfold.”

“I do trust you. You tell me: Are there any drugs out there that can trigger dopamine responses and increase one’s endurance? The only thing I know about is from a layman’s perspective, and that would be steroids.”

Emma paused. “Steroids can enhance physical performance, but they take a long time to work. There are several drugs that affect dopamine. Dopamine agonists, used for people with Parkinson’s, will sometimes trigger addictive behaviors, but even those drugs wouldn’t flood one’s system indiscriminately at the saturation point that I’m experiencing.” The shuttle bus reached the terminal. Emma grabbed her duffel and stepped out, heading to the departure area. To her surprise, she saw Stark standing there. He held a BlackBerry in one hand while pulling a roller bag behind him. He glanced up and locked eyes with Emma. She nodded and started toward him, talking all the while.

“I wanted to tell you right away.” She paused. Since her experience in Colombia, she’d not been in touch with either Banner or Cameron Sumner, the man who’d helped her through the mess. Now she wanted to contact Sumner, but only Banner knew where he’d been whisked off to after their arrival in the States. “Can you tell me anything about Sumner? I’d like to know that he’s okay.” There was a pause.

“He’s in the Indian Ocean. On a cruise ship that was headed to the Seychelles. It got waylaid by pirates, and now he’s somewhere off the coast of Somalia.”

“Somalia!” Emma couldn’t believe her ears. She stopped walking; all thoughts of Stark flew out of her head. “Oh, God, tell me he isn’t a hostage again.”

“No. But there is a situation that I wanted to speak with you about. The U.S. thinks the ship is carrying vaccines and pharmaceuticals that have been tainted with ricin and some other, unidentified chemical. They don’t want to alert anyone to the importance of the cargo by mobilizing a large force to take the ship back. It’s moved into Somali territorial waters, which creates a unique situation.”

“So let me guess,” she said. “They want Darkview to infiltrate the ship covertly.”

She heard Banner blow out a breath. “Something like that.”

“I’m going,” Emma said. “You said the vials possibly contain ricin and some other substance. Who better than a chemist to figure this out?”

Banner sighed. “I agree with you, and your name came up, but I’m afraid Major Stromeyer does not. She is, in fact, in vehement disagreement with me. She said it would be taking unfair advantage of you in light of your recent traumatic experience. And that
is
a compelling point for your not going.”

“Tell her not to worry. Do you have a contact for me? Where should I go? Mogadishu?”

“Absolutely not. Insurgents just closed the airport. They’re using mortar shells to attack any plane that lands. Can you get yourself closer to Somalia?”

Emma glanced up to see Stark headed her way. He would be at her side in the next few seconds. She needed to end the call. Watching him, though, gave her an idea. “How about Nairobi?”

“That would be perfect, actually. Send me a text message when you land, but keep it brief. My cell phone is tapped, as are Darkview’s
phones. This line is secure for the moment, but I’ll be changing phones on a regular basis. Dump yours after you’re done. I’ll have a contact meet you there to transport you to Berbera, a small port town at the tip of Somalia, where another contact will take over.”

Stark was upon her.

“I’m off. I’ll be in touch.” Emma hung up just as Stark stopped in front of her.

“Hello, where are you going?” he said. His attitude was stiff, but he seemed less angry than the last time she’d seen him, which she took as a positive sign.

“Turns out I’m headed to Nairobi also.” Emma waved her cell phone at him with a smile. “Just got my marching orders.”

Stark raised an eyebrow. Emma thought he looked as suspicious as hell.

“Do you have a visa for Kenya?” he asked.

Emma paused. She didn’t. “Can’t I get one at the airport?”

Stark shook his head. “Maybe, maybe not.” He looked at her for a moment, as if deciding something. He nodded then, seeming to have come to some internal decision. “You’re welcome to fly on the Price jet.”

“If it’s no trouble.”

“Of course not. I had some questions for you anyway. About your report.”

Emma did her best not to grimace. The last thing she needed was an extended grilling about her report, but using the Price jet would save time, something that she assumed Cameron Sumner didn’t have.