Read The Delta Solution Online
Authors: Patrick Robinson
Tags: #Fiction, #Thrillers, #General, #War & Military, #Suspense
The Delta Solution (45 page)
LIEUTENANT COMMANDER BEDFORD and the Delta Platoon drove out to the North Island Naval Air Station in the middle of San Diego Bay and boarded the giant turbo-prop C-130 Hercules at 0045. This great leviathan of the skies is a purpose-built warehouse, the workhorse of the US armed forces. It’s like travelling in an echoing steel cave, noisy as all hell with not enough seats, and catering facilities that would certainly have been rejected by the San Diego Zoo.
Many of the SEALs, vastly experienced at this level of discomfort, rigged up hammocks and crashed out among the crates and packing cases. The rest settled into seats made of rough netting. There were a lot of head sets, a lot of iPods, and a stupendous amount of smart-ass remarks.
They flew east across southern California, Arizona, and New Mexico before heading slightly north toward the East Coast almost 3,000 miles away. They landed in the sprawling Norfolk Navy base a little after 0700 and disembarked. While the aircraft refuelled, they were grateful for a ride down to the chow hall where an excellent breakfast had been prepared for them.
By 0900 the Hercules was on its way back down the runway for the transatlantic flight to Germany. They took off into a stiff southwester, banked left over the other major US Navy SEAL training grounds at Virginia Beach, and headed northeast over the ocean for 4,000 miles to the base at Landstuhl, fifty-five miles southwest of Frankfurt.
It was nighttime when they landed in Germany, six hours ahead of Norfolk. Once more they were grateful for a hearty supper laid out for them, and once more they could feel the ripples of curiosity at their presence. The entire base seemed aware that this was a major SEAL operation; the guys were “going in.”
Refuelled, they took off at 0100 (local) and headed southeast, the new navy pilot gunning the giant aircraft across the Alps and straight down
the Adriatic Sea past Italy and Greece to the Mediterranean. From there they swerved high above Egypt and headed all the way down the Red Sea to Djibouti.
the Adriatic Sea past Italy and Greece to the Mediterranean. From there they swerved high above Egypt and headed all the way down the Red Sea to Djibouti.
The 2,400-mile journey from Landstuhl took them seven hours and the sleeping SEALs touched down on the desert runway at 10:00 a.m. There were six trucks, two military buses, and a large staff car to meet them. They’d been travelling for twenty-five hours. The temperature beyond the enormous hull of the Hercules was 100ºF without a breath of wind.
The commanding officer of the base came out to greet them, and he and Mack Bedford rode back together, finalizing arrangements for their potentially lengthy stay. Right now the lives of the Delta Platoon were irrevocably bound up with those of Admiral Wolde, Mohammed Salat, Elmi Ahmed, and the rest.
If the Somali Marines made a major move, the Delta Platoon would be right there with them. If the Somalis stayed home and did nothing, Commander Bedford’s men might get bored, parked in the sweltering North African desert with nothing to do except train and hone their standards of fitness.
The base commander, General Jeremy Offiah, known locally as “Chariots,” had no such doubts. “Those friggin’ pirates are on a roll,” he told Mack. “No chance they’ll retire. I’d give it three days max, and they’ll be out there again. Right now they have a license to print money. Everyone’s paying them because no one’s worked out a better way to get their goddamned ships back.”
He added that he had an aircraft on standby, fuelled and ready to fly the SEALs out to the ops area at a half-hour’s notice. “Tomorrow morning we’ll get the loading guys out there and start transferring the gear out of that Hercules and into the barracks.
“Phase two will be for each man to separate his own equipment for the mission, and we’ll load that onto the ops aircraft, along with the heavy weapons and the rest of the explosives and ammunition you guys need. I’m flying that direct to Diego Garcia. USS
Chafee
is waiting there, and the CO has been instructed to set up a complete SEAL base on board, ready for when you arrive.”
Chafee
is waiting there, and the CO has been instructed to set up a complete SEAL base on board, ready for when you arrive.”
“Beautiful,” said Mack. “It’s kind of amazing what this navy can do when someone gets mad enough. I’m planning to recapture whatever ship
they grab, and when we’ve freed it, I’m switching our attack immediately to their land headquarters, which I intend to destroy.”
they grab, and when we’ve freed it, I’m switching our attack immediately to their land headquarters, which I intend to destroy.”
“That’s fighting talk, sailor,” grinned the general.
“Guess so,” replied Mack. “You don’t think we just flew close to 10,000 miles to fuck it up, do you?”
THE GRATITUDE OF MOHAMMED SALAT was reflected in the size of Peter Kilimo’s secret bank account in Westchester County. The Pirate King of Somalia had sent $40,000 by wire transfer the day after the
Global Mustang
’s connections had paid the enormous ransom. Without Peter, there would have been no mission, and Mohammed Salat, like some tribal godfather, loved having friends. But more than that, he liked keeping them.
Global Mustang
’s connections had paid the enormous ransom. Without Peter, there would have been no mission, and Mohammed Salat, like some tribal godfather, loved having friends. But more than that, he liked keeping them.
Peter was thrilled by his reward. But he had smashed the laptop computer, and he had vowed never to provide further information, not with the CIA investigators burning with suspicion.
If the payment had been the normal $20,000, he would have stared it down and stuck to his personal vow, ending his involvement. But $40,000! And tucked right up near the forefront of his memory, Peter Kilimo had a major piece of information. Information that had been in his possession for four months. And Peter never forgot nor mislaid anything in the shipping world.
It involved the Athena president, Jerry Jackson, and Jerry was in hot and heavy with the CIA guys. Essentially this potential project was absolutely fraught with danger. And it was driving Peter nuts.
Not on its own account. It was the thought of another $40,000—just for sending an itinerary to Salat. Who could resist that? Not Peter.
The issue didn’t really have anything to do with Athena, but Jerry Jackson had asked Peter to help him organize a winter cruise for his sister Janice and her husband. Jerry had asked him because Peter Kilimo’s contacts were as widely spread as his own, and he was capable of getting a great deal on a good ship with a reliable company.
He had done so, to the letter, calling in a favor from a well-respected US cruise company called Southern Islander, which was based in New Orleans but had a big operation in the Indian Ocean, cruising to Madagascar, the Seychelles, and the Maldives. They owned jetties in Mombassa and Kenya and made Kilindini Port their headquarters in East Africa.
Peter negotiated a half-price tariff for a first-class fare, a beautiful cabin on the starboard side of the Riviera Deck. The ship was the elderly but superbly refurbished
Ocean Princess
. He knew the date and time of departure and the date and time of every port of call from Zanzibar up to the Seychelles and then the Maldives. Jerry had requested that Peter tune in to this itinerary because he wanted to keep a distant but close eye on his little sister whose overbearing husband he detested.
Ocean Princess
. He knew the date and time of departure and the date and time of every port of call from Zanzibar up to the Seychelles and then the Maldives. Jerry had requested that Peter tune in to this itinerary because he wanted to keep a distant but close eye on his little sister whose overbearing husband he detested.
The
Ocean Princess
was certainly a fitting place for the Athena president’s relations. Refitted to a near-perfect degree, she was a white-painted, air-conditioned masterpiece in teak, brass, and polished mahogany, with deep-pile carpets, antique clocks, tables, and chandeliers. Her brand-new turbines were warship-standard, and she ran with massive stabilizers. The
Princess
possessed the elegance of a nineteenth-century New York Yacht Club committee boat and, in a big sea, the punching power of an Arleigh Burke destroyer.
Ocean Princess
was certainly a fitting place for the Athena president’s relations. Refitted to a near-perfect degree, she was a white-painted, air-conditioned masterpiece in teak, brass, and polished mahogany, with deep-pile carpets, antique clocks, tables, and chandeliers. Her brand-new turbines were warship-standard, and she ran with massive stabilizers. The
Princess
possessed the elegance of a nineteenth-century New York Yacht Club committee boat and, in a big sea, the punching power of an Arleigh Burke destroyer.
She ran under an American flag and carried only two hundred passengers, eighty less than in her former life when, for many years, she cruised the Mediterranean. She had only 102 cabins on three decks, and her American officers commanded a crew of 140, most of whom were Vietnamese or Filipino. The
Princess
displaced 5,800 tons and measured 360 feet overall. She was almost fifty feet wide and drew 170 feet. Her cruising speed was approximately 16 knots.
Princess
displaced 5,800 tons and measured 360 feet overall. She was almost fifty feet wide and drew 170 feet. Her cruising speed was approximately 16 knots.
Expensive cruise liners have become rare in the western Indian Ocean principally because of the pirate threat. The large operators have been frightened off by the threat of boarding, capture, and ransom by ruthless Somali brigands.
But the problem is the number of ships that sail under a flag of convenience, like Panama, Liberia, or the Bahamas. The pirates would rather go for them than a ship flying a Russian or an American flag, because those nations have made it clear that they will attack the pirates if given even half a chance.
The board of directors that controlled Southern Islander, however, decided to keep running throughout the northern hemisphere’s winter months. It had cost a vast amount of money to refurbish their Indian Ocean flagship, and she had become a major moneymaker. Passengers loved her, and many of them came back for another cruise.
The
Ocean Princess
had a big reputation in an industry where brand
loyalty is traditionally hard to acquire. And she flew the American flag, which gave her some sort of immunity, considering the regular proximity of US warships.
Ocean Princess
had a big reputation in an industry where brand
loyalty is traditionally hard to acquire. And she flew the American flag, which gave her some sort of immunity, considering the regular proximity of US warships.
And while reluctant to run any further north than the main Maldives archipelago, the masters of the
Ocean Princess
were more than happy to run the ship at a very substantial profit a few hundred miles off the coast of Somalia.
Ocean Princess
were more than happy to run the ship at a very substantial profit a few hundred miles off the coast of Somalia.
She was not in significant danger because she was owned by a private corporation and her itinerary was never published. There were often groups of VIPs on board who appreciated anonymity and, as a consequence, hardly anyone knew where the
Ocean Princess
was or where she was going.
Ocean Princess
was or where she was going.
Peter Kilimo, however, knew precisely where she was and precisely where she was going. That evening, after he finished work on Fifth Avenue, he took a cab to an Internet café he knew west of Broadway, and there he utilized, for the last time, the e-mail address of Mohammed Salat. His communiqué read:
Chairman Salat: The 5,800-ton cruise ship
Ocean Princess
, American flag out of Mombassa, with 200 embarked passengers, will run westeast dead center through the One and a Half Degree Channel south of the Haddumati Atoll in the Maldives between 0230 and 0430 on Monday morning, the 22nd of this month. ETA Male, Maldives, 1700 same day. GPS checkpoint in the channel: 1.5N 73.20E. Speed: 16 knots cruising (approx). Her owners are Southern Islander (New Orleans). Phone 504-661-2000. Chairman Brad Hyland: 504-761-9916 (home); New York: 212-555-6300.
Ocean Princess
, American flag out of Mombassa, with 200 embarked passengers, will run westeast dead center through the One and a Half Degree Channel south of the Haddumati Atoll in the Maldives between 0230 and 0430 on Monday morning, the 22nd of this month. ETA Male, Maldives, 1700 same day. GPS checkpoint in the channel: 1.5N 73.20E. Speed: 16 knots cruising (approx). Her owners are Southern Islander (New Orleans). Phone 504-661-2000. Chairman Brad Hyland: 504-761-9916 (home); New York: 212-555-6300.
No more was expected of Peter Kilimo. Just accurate numbers fixing the course and forthcoming position of the ship. And the contact. He deleted the message from the café’s computer screen, picked up his briefcase, and left, making his way back to Grand Central Station for the train home.
On the other side of the world it was 0100 in the morning. The Somali Marines had landed at around 7:00 p.m. the previous evening and there had been great rejoicing on the beach when the
Mombassa
came home bearing the $10 million ransom.
Mombassa
came home bearing the $10 million ransom.
Ismael Wolde and Elmi Ahmed were carried shoulder high across the sand and then driven with an armed escort into the village, where both they and Captain Hassan dined at the home of Mohammed Salat. The pirates were extremely tired but the feeling of pure exhilaration kept them running the rest of the evening on adrenalin alone.
Salat had arranged long trestle tables and a grand feast for all of the pirates in the courtyard of the garrison, and there was champagne and red wine for everyone—wives, girlfriends, and anyone claiming a relationship to the heroes of the hour. During the evening, the village elders and officials called to pay their respects, and Mohammed handed out special cash bonuses to all of the heroes who had captured the
Global Mustang
.
Global Mustang
.
The assault crew received an extra $5,000 each, Hassan and Ahmed were given an extra $8,000, and Wolde was given an envelope that contained $12,000. Down the road at the stock exchange, shares in the mission were worth $100 and settlement day was tomorrow, when cash certificates would be issued to all investors—locals who had put up the original $10 bonds to finance the mission.
There were at least twenty people in Haradheere who had purchased five hundred shares and they saw their money multiply tenfold. Wolde’s total reward, when the 10 percent cut for the crew had been divided up, came to $110,000.
Other books
My Darrling by Krystal McLean
Something to Talk About by Melanie Woods Schuster
Bittersweet Symphony (The Damaged Souls series Book 2) by Belinda Boring
The Commander's Daughter by Morganna Williams
New Yorkers by Hortense Calisher
Years of Summer: Lily's Story by Bethanie Armstrong
I and Sproggy by Constance C. Greene
Haven from the Storm (Storms of Life #1) by Dosher, Sarah
Fakes: An Anthology of Pseudo-Interviews, Faux-Lectures, Quasi-Letters, "Found" Texts, and Other Fraudulent Artifacts by David Shields, Matthew Vollmer
Tidal by Amanda Hocking