Part 1 – Business as Usual
The Horn of Africa, not the haven for armed pirates it used to be, but still, enough to warrant a response should the need arise.
That's what happened: a Wayne Enterprises' Commercial Frigate, hijacked by multiple armed pirates.
The captain: James Abraham Westward was being told to contact Bruce Wayne himself.
The day prior, the government of Somalia provided a camera so he could send his message to Bruce Wayne himself.
The head pirate was holding a stockless AK to the head of Captain Westward as he was forced to read what the pirate put down in front of him.
"READ," the pirate said as he pointed at the piece of paper.
"Ok, ok," Captain Westward said.
"All the way through," the pirate said.
"Mr. Wayne," Captain Westward read, "We are members of the Red Gust. We have taken control of your ship, and we know you are not willing to see the men that work under you get killed. You have until the end of the month to deliver six million American dollars, or we'll kill one crew member every day that the money is late."
The pirate tapped the captain on the shoulder twice before aiming his AK at the screen and firing.
Sitting in his chair at the top of Wayne Tower on Gotham, Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose.
"This arrived three hours ago," Lucius Fox said as he stood next to the screen that the video was shown on, "It's time-stamped two days ago."
"So we have less than a week," Bruce said.
Lucius Fox walked up to the desk holding a file, "Our new Head of Security has proposed a very audacious plan," he said as he held it out to Bruce.
Bruce opened the file, and as he looked over them, he handed the file back to Lucius, "Where is he, now?"
"With your foster son in Scotland, with their girlfriends," Lucius Fox said.
"Using my estate no doubt," Bruce said.
"Forgive me for saying," Lucius said, "But I don't think that's the key issue right now."
"I know it isn't," Bruce said as he turned his seat sideways before waving his hand toward the door, "Call him, and saw he has the green light."
"At once, sir," Lucius said as he bowed his head, and walked out the door.
"Good luck," Bruce thought.
Somalia, the next day…
The pirates patrolling the outside of the ship looked out to see a small craft approaching.
As he lifted his binoculars to view the ship, he saw a man in a suit standing on top of a Somalian naval sloop.
He was roughly six-foot-three, had olive skin, black hair that was slicked downwards, and he was wearing a black suit with a very ugly blue tie with white flowers and a light blue shirt.
He was carrying a large metal briefcase, which the pirate gathered was full of their money.
The pirate pulled out his radio, "We have activity," he said.
"Go ahead," the head pirate said.
"I think the money has arrived," he said as the boat approaching, several members of the Somalian Navy on the boat were eyeing them.
As the man approached the side of the boat, he stumbled a little as he climbed onto the rope ladder they lowered to him.
It was clear to the pirates that he was a corporate desk jockey as he climbed up to try and climb onboard the ship.
"Who are you," the pirate asked.
"The person delivering your money," the man said as he held out his hand, his thick-rimmed glasses slipping down which caused him to push them back up his nose, "My name is Rasmussen."
"Move," the pirate said as he pushed him towards the center of the ship.
"Ok, ok," Rasmussen said as he held up his hand, and was escorted to the center of the ship where the head pirate was waiting.
"Who are you," the head pirate asked.
"The man delivering your cash," Rasmussen said as he fixed his tie.
Rasmussen placed the case on the table, but as he went to open it, the head pirate stopped him, "Wait," he said as he pointed his AK at him, "Let me."
"Ok," Rasmussen said as he turned the case towards the head pirate.
As he set his AK down, he grabbed the two latches on the side, and with a simple click, he opened it, only to be greeted by a sudden blast of some kind of white gas.
"What the fuck," the head pirate asked before feeling a burning sensation in his eyes that made it almost impossible to see.
As he went to grab his rifle, despite the fact he couldn't see what he was reaching for, he was grabbed by the arm, twisted until he felt like it was about to be torn off.
He was then struck on the throat by a flat-hand, and smashed into the table, knocking him out cold.
His partner waved his AK around, trying to see something before the gun was forcefully taken from his hands, and used as a club to knock him out cold.
Rasmussen removed his glasses, and after placing a small canister on the table which removed the teargas from the air, he removed the contacts which revealed the blue outlined, yellow iris-bordered eyes of Graham Saint-Hudson, Wayne Enterprises' Head of Security.
After rinsing his hands which were covered in the residue from the tear gas which was captured by the special Wayne Tech contacts that had changed his eye color from his natural color to a nice blue.
As Graham removed his jacket and shirt, he removed the seal from the case the tear gas was released from and removed a bundle of zip ties, a tactical vest, his regular glasses with the external functions, and an AJM-9.
After tying up the pirates, he walked out of the central room and proceeded to the galley where he saw that they were holding several of the crew members hostage with one man keeping guard.
As Graham walked into the room, he extended his AJM-9 and pulled the trigger as the pirate raised his rifle to fire.
The man convulsed violently before falling to the ground, losing his rifle on the way.
"Who are you," one of the captives asked as Graham walked up to them, pulling a Vietnam-vintage Ka-Bar knife out of the sheath on his vest, and cutting them free.
"The man keeping you safe," Graham said as he helped the man to his feet, "Name's Rasmussen, one of Bruce Wayne's Security Consultants."
"I should have known Bruce Wayne would have brought out the big guns," the man said as Graham handed him the pirate's AK.
"Can you use this," Graham asked.
"I was U.S. Army for three years," he said.
"No one gets through that door," Graham said, "Unless it's me or another member of the crew."
"Roger that," the man said as he leveled the AK towards the door.
As Graham walked out the door, the Somalian soldiers signaled that they saw one of the pirates heading toward the control room.
Graham gave him a small salute before continuing toward the control room, he quietly looked inside, but only seeing one hostile, he slowly entered onto to be ambushed by the second pirate and having his AJM knocked out of his hands as was forced against the wall
As the other pirate turned to see his partner struggling with an unknown attacker, he reached down to grab his pistol which was an old .45 revolver only to hear grunting, and a small click as Graham bunted the man on the throat, kneed him in the gut, and quickly unloaded his AK to hurl the magazine at the second pirate who took it in the throat as well.
Of course, that didn't save Graham as the revolver fell from the pirate's hand, and discharged, rebounding off the floor to make a clean slice across the side of his neck.
As he knelt, the other pirate started laughing as he reached down to pick up Graham's AJM.
"I wouldn't do that," Graham said as he held his hand out to the man.
"This'll be mercy," the pirate said as he grabbed hold of the pistol, only to turn completely blue as a safety measure that Bruce Wayne added to the guns just six weeks ago engulfed him in a taser-like shock which knocked him out like a light.
"I told you," Graham said as he stood up, and removed his bloody hand to show the deep gash on the side of his neck rapidly heal.
"What are you," the other pirate said as he backed up.
"I'm complicated," Graham said.
The pirate quickly made a lunge for his revolver, only for Graham to kick his AJM-9 back into his hand, and fire one round into the barrel, knocking it away.
Graham signaled the pirate to stand up, which he did, only for Graham to drop the magazine in his AJM-9, and remove the chambered round from the pistol before placing the pistol on the helm-controls next to him.
The pirate then struck a fighting stance as Graham did as well.
The pirate charged, only to have Graham go underneath his swing, and nail him on the bottom of the jaw with the bottom of his fist.
As he stumbled forward, Graham tripped him, causing him to falter, and fall onto the engine control console.
"You're good," the pirate said as he stood up, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, "You're good."
"Thanks," Graham said as the pirate charged again.
Graham simply grabbed the man's arm as he came in, and used the momentum to propel the man over his shoulder onto the helm's console.
As he stood back up, he dodged a kick from Graham's shoe and stood up on the other side of the captain's chair from Graham.
The man swung at Graham who dodged the strike, grab his arm, and dropped onto his back, breaking his arm on top of the console as the bone torqued out of alinement.
As the man laid there, screaming bloody murder, he walked over to his AJM-9, reloaded the pistol, and fired one round into the man's leg, giving him the best night's sleep of his life.
After holstering his pistol, Graham looked down at his shirt which was stained almost very heavily with blood and exhaled strongly before looking down at the one that ambushed him, who suddenly decided to try and wake up.
The last thing he saw was the sole of an Italian-leather shoe come straight at his face. Needless to say, the police medics that tended to him had to use quite a few cotton balls to keep the blood from getting on his jumpsuit.
After tying them up, Graham walked over to the captain who saw the whole thing and began thanking Graham very profusely as Graham cut him free.
He then walked out of the bridge to signal the Somalian Naval Soldiers onto the boat that brought him to collect the garbage.
Graham walked into the galley where the crew member he handed the AK to instantly aimed at him, only to hold up his hands, "Easy, easy," he said, "Friendly, friendly."
"Rasmussen," the man said as he lowered the rifle, "Is it done?"
"You know it," Graham said.
As he was climbing back onto the boat, he changed into the spare shirt he brought along just in case and put his button-up shirt and jacket back on before waving goodbye to the men on the boat who were gently sent on their way after confirming there were no other men on board.
The plane that was waiting for Graham at the airport was no 747, it was Bombardier Global 7500 that was customized for Wayne Enterprises executive-use-only.
As the pilot closed the door, Graham walked into the bathroom and changed into something he considered a little more comfortable for someone on of his statute, as Wayne Enterprises' Head of Security.
A pair of brown dress-pants, a button-up black dress shirt, and a brown blazer.
After washing the black dye out of his hair, and changing into his regular glasses, he walked back into the cabin, where the pilot walked up to him, "I take it the job went well, Mr. Saint-Hudson," he asked.
"As well as it could," Graham said as he took his seat at the desk set up for him to do his work at.
"So, to Gotham," the pilot asked.
"No," Graham said as he handed the briefcase that he had stashed his AJM-9 and vest in back to the pilot, "I'd like to go straight back to Glasgow. I have a previous engagement I cannot ignore."
"Of course," the pilot said.
Graham walked over to the nearest desk, retrieved his computer from underneath the desk, and began looking over reports from the Security Chiefs at Wayne Enterprises' locations across the globe.
I know it's kind of a sporadic chapter, but I wrote it at 3:00 AM, so not too bad…