Ch 18, Straight Shooter
"Did you get the funds all right?" Kelly Anne asked.
"Yep. The hotel was the only place that didn't need to check my ID as they already have …sorry for the trouble of having to talk to their admin, but there was no other way." James sighed.
"No worries. On another note, I filed the application for the business' separation…and am now busy checking schoolwork for the girls. How is everything else?", she added.
"We're managing. I am not looking forward to getting on a ship…", James started saying but was interrupted: "I don't envy you…you know I hate having to puke my guts out!" and she laughed her loud laugh. "How's my favorite boy doing?"
"Hah…didn't you have two favorite boys?" James teased her.
"I mean the one that's with you…The one that's here…I have him doing some algebra before his soccer practice." Kelly Anne elaborated.
James planned on telling her only general things about Tony's state of wellbeing, but he heard Pote in the background grumbling that they should stop 'yapping', so that he could talk to James. Kelly Anne said 'bye' and handed over the phone.
"Cabron, what is this talk about the Englishman pendejo …having a house on the Island?" Kelly Anne obviously had told Pote the news that James had gotten from Avi. The news that Lancaster's family owned property in Madagascar.
"Avi said it was registered to a numbered corporation, but they had traced the ownership to his mother. She lives somewhere in England…the old lady has a disability of some sort and doesn't travel…For the family to keep this property so far away, someone must be using it!" James reasoned.
"So, what are you going to ask me then?" Pote said.
"Why are you asking me …when you already know?" James decided to play his game.
"Marcel and Chico bought a piece of land on Madagascar too, right?" Pote asked.
"Yeah…I bet it has the same history…polluted by the previous owners and sold for pennies. I would ask you to hop on a flight and check the land and the house of the mother, if you…can!" James hesitated as he knew Pote had been against the whole 'providing help' affair.
"Do I have a choice?" Pote exhaled deeply.
"You do…if you say 'no'…nobody will hold it against you!" James knew working Pote took time.
"Hmm…Sure thing!…And why can't they send the cops?" Pote asked.
"Because Mossad can't just sanction an op in another country…Certain conditions must be met…Maybe they could ask the local police to check things out…But I don't trust the local police!" James said.
"Orale, cabron!" Pote grumbled. "I'm gonna have Kelly Anne book me on a flight tomorrow! Send me the locations, okay?"
James decided that as cash was king and was burning a hole in his pocket, he would be better off to buy some items that might come in handy. He walked into a gun store he saw in the sleazy part of town wondering if his lack of ID would be a problem. He had told neither Teresa nor Kelly Anne about his fright that Tony had died in the explosion. The thought that their minds would link it to Tony Parra's similar death was enough to outweigh any principle about openness that he firmly believed in.
He walked in the store and looked around. Shotguns and rifles hung on the wall over boxes of ammunition. Just like in his shooting range! Handguns gleamed under the glass counter. Black, gray, ones with cylinders, and ones without. There were even some collectible ones, that could be seen in old movies.
The salesgirl was covered in tatts and looked very European to him. After he made his pick, she checked to make sure the tube of the gun was clear, then locked it back and ejected the magazine. Then put it on the counter with a box of ammo.
"It holds 13 rounds", she informed him, and he gave her a look that said he obviously knew that. She didn't like the look, grabbed the cash he had put on the counter and opened the cash machine. She looked scary and resolute, and James thought he wouldn't want to cross her in a dark alley somewhere in the sketchy parts of Goa, where she would take him for an enemy.
At 5 am the three of them, including Chicho leaning on a cane, boarded the mid-size cargo ship. The morning was cold and flawless; their breaths steamed. The water stood still like glass. Chicho limped and stood by James and Tony as the ship blew its horn and slowly moved away from the pier.
They had rented a cabin for three, two beds and a bunk, which bunk Tony had taken right away. There were a few other passengers and a crew of 20 sailors, mostly Thai, who spoke some English. The cantina served hot food, cheap beer and other liquors of suspicious origins. They had nothing to do during the long day but hang out in the cantina.
"I hope the Thai government cancels the sale!" Chicho said as he clinged his beer bottle to James's.
"I hope so too…but if Lancaster has moved the funds…you won't be able to recover anything, no matter what the government does." James drank and wondered if there was even a way to recover the money.
"Once there's a warrant for his arrest from any country…they can freeze his legit business accounts and…hopefully there's enough in those to compensate us…the lawyer said if this passes in one country he did business, we can file suits in all of them!" Chicho expected Mossad's assistance in involving Interpol once a warrant was a fact! He seemed full of hope, which mood rubbed off on James and he felt his mind relaxing. An hour later they had caught a hard and beautiful glow off the cheap booze. It made their conversation stay much in the moment with the dozen noisy conversations around them mixed into a meaningless roar.
Tony was thrilled by everything that the ship represented: from the sleeping quarters to the captain's deck. He had managed to ingratiate himself with the captain, who had a son of about the same age and as such enjoyed Tony's questions and curiosity.
It all felt smooth and pleasant until they reached the northern part of the Strait of Malacca in the Andeman sea. They were a day's sail from Phuket when an emergency horn was blown on deck. James and Chicho saw the sailors' scared faces as they all ran to the meeting point on Deck 3. Two other guests rushed after them and James decided that he needed to hear whatever the matter was firsthand.
"We're sailing through an HRA ...a high-risk area… for piracy…" the Captain was saying to the group of sailors huddled together in the shade. "We have spotted two vessels that have not answered our identification code and that seem to be going at high speed in our direction. I cannot say with certainty if this is pirate activity, but we have contacted the International Task Force. The UK naval forces are responsible for patrolling this area and for now they have told us to maintain constant contact. The moment I have any knowledge, I will make an announcement from the Bridge." The murmur that followed his departure back to the Bridge was full of angst and fear, not of disgruntlement.
"We got no guns", a sailor was saying. They had had a security guard who had been trained in shooting, but the man had fallen sick, and the stingy owner had not bothered replacing him.
"They don't pay me enough to be a soldier!" another man was commenting: "Even if we had weapons! I have a family…can't risk my life for the cash the Captain has in the safe!"
The next two hours passed slowly as the tension in the air rose every minute. The two boats had approached the ship despite the Captain having increased the speed.
It was still light outside but the Captain suspected that by the time dusk settled in, they would be attacked. The next announcement from the Bridge was grim because it was visible that the two boats were not friendly. The closest UK naval vessel was two hours away and the boats would be catching up with them in less than an hour. The panic button had been hit and everyone on board scrambled to hide valuables and prepare to defend their cabins.
The Captain had walked Tony personally to their cabin: "Please make sure your son does not leave the cabin. He is the youngest passenger and if they catch him…", he couldn't finish as Tony interrupted: "You told me the other day…when you took me around the ship, that you got a sniper gun locked in that super safe on the Bridge..."
"Yeah…so?" The Captain's voice was full of impatience. "We got no one to shoot it…and we don't have the code to open the super safe."
"Who has the code?" James said flatly and the Captain just shook his head: "The Task Force…but they won't give it to me as my security isn't here…so…there's nothing I can do."
"My dad is a US Army Special Forces Sniper!" Tony announced excitedly and the Captain's eyes opened wide and stared at James.
"The Task Force Command Post may give you the code…but they'll want to check you out…Can you shoot them…the boats?" he asked.
James nodded in the direction of the two boats that were steadily approaching.
"Yes…I just don't feel like identifying myself to any authority…but…there may be no choice. Let's go talk to the Task Force!" and he followed the Captain to the Bridge.
The Captain spoke in the crackling radio for a minute and was told to wait. The silence seemed to last forever.
Then the radio cracked back to life and a heavy English accented voice said that HMS Active, a small UK Naval ship, was on its way to their location but would only reach them after dark.
"I understand you have requested the super safe code to be released as you have a trained soldier on board." The man said. The Captain confirmed and James was asked to provide his US Army ID number and was told to stand by. Another full minute of heavy anticipatory silence followed.
Finally, the room was filled with a heavy southern drawl: "Sargent Valdez?"
"Yes sir!" James said and visibly straightened his posture.
"This is Colonel Montgomery, 5th Southeast Division. I have had your credentials confirmed and am ready to authorize the code to be released. You got five boxes of ammunition in the safe, and you need to hold off the hostiles until the arrival of HMS Active. Can you do that, Sergeant?"
"Most certainly, sir!" James affirmed in a straight no-nonsense tone as both his son and the Captain stared at him.
The sniper gun was of good quality and James felt a relief wash over him once he had it in his hands and checked it. Then he walked on deck to figure out the best position that would give him visibility of the horizon and still hide him from the pirates' view. while the Captain instructed everyone to get inside and to take cover.
"We don't know what they're armed with and what fire they'll return!" James had told him.
James waited for the boats to get in his shooting range to ascertain that there were about ten men armed to the teeth running around in preparation to board. His mind briefly threw in the memory that he had known and worked with a famous pirate, whose name his younger son carried. But he had no choice, so he banned the thought.
He waited for those on the closer boat to gather on deck and took aim. The calm of the moment before his finger squeezed the trigger lasted a long half a minute and then he took them out one by one with such speed that his son and the Captain, who were hiding close behind him, could not stay put out of excitement.
The pirates on the second boat returned fire and it took James close to half an hour to wait them all out and finish them off.
Everything was said and done by the time HMS Active appeared on the horizon.
