The Hugo Xavier Series: Book 1-3

by Filip Forsberg

  Mikko spat on the wet deck. “Where the hell did those guys come from?”

  “Our escapees must have made contact with a support team,” Hugo said, shaking his head. “And now they’ve gotten on board this ship from a motorboat.”

  “That’s not good,” Mikko said.

  Hugo’s eyes narrowed. “No, not good at all. The people we’re after must have more resources available than we expected. If they can land a support team out at sea, they’re professionals.”

  Just then, an explosion echoed through the narrow passage through which they’d been running less than thirty seconds ago. The shockwave threw Mikko down on the deck, and Hugo stumbled backward as if hit by a hammer. The explosive force knocked the air out of his lungs, and he gasped for breath as he pulled himself onto his knees. He fought his way up and grabbed Mikko’s arm.

  “Come on! We need to get out of here.”

  They passed two more containers and were now at about the middle of the ship. Hugo glanced back. No one was coming after them, so he slowed down and stopped dragging Mikko. Mikko stretched his arm out and held on to the wall, heaving. Hugo looked back again.

  “Looks like they’re not following us.”

  Mikko looked quizzically at Hugo, shook his head, and said in too loud a tone, “I can’t hear you!”

  Hugo put his hand on Mikko’s shoulder, placed his face right in front of Mikko’s, and spoke slowly. “I don’t think they’re coming after us. Looks like they’ve stayed back there. But we have to move further back and find Sussie and Freya.”

  Mikko nodded, raised his rifle, and grinned. “Okay, let’s go!”

  Hugo winked at the big Finn. Mikko quickly started back toward the bridge, and Hugo covered their retreat. They passed four more containers and a large crane. The wave of adrenaline that had carried Hugo for the past half-hour now began to subside, and he felt his hands tremble when he lifted them.

  He gripped his weapon more tightly and continued. They passed the two destroyed yachts that lay crashed on deck—no trace of Sussie or Freya. Red text and yellow lights lit up the deck, showing the way to the bridge. Fifty meters away, Hugo glimpsed an immense superstructure that stretched ten meters up and was covered in small, black windows.

  At the top stretched one long, tinted window—the bridge. They had to get there and hope that Sussie and Freya had gotten in touch with the ship’s captain. They passed another crane and then turned toward the superstructure. In the same second, shots echoed, and Hugo and Mikko threw themselves onto the deck. The shots were coming from either side of the superstructure.

  “Stop shooting!” came a familiar voice.

  Another voice yelled, “Don’t shoot! Stop shooting!”

  A couple of seconds passed while Hugo tensed, half-waiting to get a slug in the back. But nothing happened. The second voice spoke again.

  “It’s Hugo and Mikko!”

  That was Freya. Hugo put his hands down on the deck and slowly pushed himself up. An excruciating pain ran through his legs and abdomen, and he groaned as he stood up.

  “Hugo! Mikko!”

  Freya ran up to them, and Hugo saw two men coming from each side of the superstructure. Both of them held rifles and pointed them nervously down at the deck as they approached. Freya turned to one of the men.

  “I told you to stop shooting! Didn’t you hear me? What if you had killed Hugo or Mikko?”

  The man’s gaze flickered. “Sorry, I wasn’t sure. I thought maybe it was the others.”

  Freya continued to scold the man, and Hugo smiled. Everyone had to learn in their own way that Freya was not to be crossed. When she was finished, Freya turned to Hugo and Mikko. She approached them and put her hands on their shoulders.

  “Tell me what happened.”

  Hugo shrugged and said, “They’ve been reinforced. We had them pressed up in the bow—there were two of them. One is injured, but when we were about to advance, reinforcements showed up.”

  “What?” Freya asked. “How?”

  “A motorboat arrived with a support team. They have at least four guys with them now, heavily armed.”

  Mikko cleared his throat and corrected, “Three.”

  “Oh, right. We took out one of them. So, there are at least three more.”

  “Okay, well, we’ve met the captain,” Freya said, “and we managed to persuade him that we are on the good team.”

  “Do you think he’s on the good team?”

  “Yeah, so far. But he’s nervous, and I don’t know how he’ll react when he meets you.”

  Hugo nodded. It was a chance they had to take. They couldn’t stay where they were. Hugo looked up at the long, dark window crowning the superstructure.

  “Okay,” he said, “lead the way.”

  Freya spun around and rushed to a metal door, pulled it open, and led them up the bridge. The two crew members followed behind. When they got to the bridge, Hugo walked up to the captain and held out his hand.

  “Captain, my name is Hugo Xavier, and this is Mikko.” He nodded toward the big Finn standing at the top of the stairs. “And you’ve already met the rest of my team.”

  Captain Ashraf blinked at Hugo and his extended hand. Reflexively, he shook it.

  “Captain Ashraf,” he replied. “Captain of the Golden Wind.”

  “Nice to meet you.”

  Ashraf hesitated. “The same.”

  “I understand that this is a strange situation, but I need you and your crew to work together with us as much as possible over the next hour.”

  Ashraf bit his lip, took a deep breath, and took charge. “Now, wait just a minute here. This is my ship, and I’ll decide what to do. It may very well be that you think you have some say in what happens, but you do not. I’m in charge here!”

  Ashraf breathed heavily but met Hugo’s gaze. Hugo waited a few seconds until the throbbing vein in Ashraf’s face had calmed down.

  “This is your ship, Captain. I fully respect that, but you must understand that we’re in an extraordinary position here. The men out there are animals—no, worse than animals. They’ve already killed at least three people today, and if we don’t stop them, they’ll kill more.”

  Ashraf blinked.

  “Killed?”

  Hugo nodded, but before he could say anything, one of the men who had been shooting at Hugo below came forward and pointed straight at him.

  “He just said he shot a man too.”

  Ashraf took a step back and asked, “Have you?”

  Hugo remained calm. Getting agitated wouldn’t help. He took a deep breath and told the captain everything that had happened in the last few hours. When he was done, Ashraf held his hand to his head.

  “Good Lord.”

  Hugo met the captain’s gaze. “Right, but at the moment, I need you and your men, Captain. It’s of the utmost importance that we go on the counterattack before they try to escape. I don’t know what other resources they have available, but we can’t take any chances.”

  Ashraf’s face twisted as he tried to figure out what to do—help or not? Long seconds passed. Finally, he wrung his hands and met Hugo’s gaze.

  “Okay, we’ll send an emergency message for help that the ship is under attack,” said the captain. “And you will have access to the few men we can do without to carry out a counterattack.”

  Hugo felt a light wave of relief within him. “Thank you, Captain. You won’t regret this.”

  Outside, the wind calmed down a bit, and a small streak of light found its way through the thick cloud cover.

  ***

  Hugo took the last steps two at a time, ran through the doorway, and came out on the deck. The fresh wind met him, and he took a deep breath. Behind him, he heard Freya’s voice.

  “Come on, move!”

  In front of Freya ran eight troops, each with a weapon in his hands. These were the crew members Captain Ashraf sent to help Hugo in the counterattack. Hugo peered up at the dark command bridge. He saw no movement, but he knew Cap
tain Ashraf was studying him at this very moment.

  It was time. Hugo turned to the eight men, who looked back at him uncertainly. Freya stood next to him and checked her weapon.

  “I know this isn’t something you usually do,” Hugo said, looking from one man to the next, “but you should know that I appreciate your willingness to help. The men we’re after are thieves and murderers, and they stole something very valuable just a few hours ago. My team and I have chased them from Copenhagen to here.”

  One of the men spoke. “What did they steal?”

  Hugo clenched his jaw and replied, “I can’t go into that, and it doesn’t matter. What’s important now is that we go on the counterattack and prevent these goons from taking over the ship. If we can keep them at bay until the police arrive, we will have succeeded in our mission.”

  Another of the men raised his weapon. His wrinkled face stretched out in a big smile. “These pigs will get what they deserve. I’ve been in the army, and I know what kind of people these pirates are.”

  Hugo chuckled at the old man’s undisguised enthusiasm. Hugo approached him and put a hand on his well-worn shoulder.

  “Okay, great, but listen carefully. You’re support troops. Your job is to give us support, nothing else. No hasty ideas that you should save the ship yourself or something like that. My partner and I will take care of the attack itself. Is it clear?”

  The eight men nodded, and Hugo looked at Freya.

  “You okay?”

  Freya nodded. Her face was still paler than usual, but her eyes radiated determination. “Yes, much better, thanks. I’m ready.”

  Hugo nodded as he removed the safety from his weapon. “All right. We will push them toward the bow as far as we can so the police can land on the empty space in the middle of the ship. We can do this. There are more of us than there are of them.”

  “But they’re professionals,” one sailor protested. “It’s not our guys.”

  “True. But there are probably no more than four, five max, and we should at least be able to take back the middle section.”

  Freya bared her teeth, and they sparkled in the sharp headlights Captain Ashraf had illuminated. “Do you have the walkie-talkie?” she asked Hugo.

  Hugo pulled up the black walkie-talkie and pressed the button. “Ashraf,” he said, “come in. This is Hugo.”

  From the walkie-talkie came the captain’s voice. “This is Ashraf. I hear you loud and clear.”

  “Good,” Hugo replied into the walkie. “We will start the attack now. Get in touch with the police or the coast guard as soon as possible.”

  “Roger. We’re in the process of calling both the Swedish and Danish police.”

  “Good. Over and out.”

  He looked at Freya. “Do you have yours?”

  She nodded and lifted it. “Right here.”

  They checked that they could communicate, and then Hugo pushed his walkie-talkie into his chest pocket.

  “I’m glad you’re here,” he told her.

  A smile spread across Freya’s face. “Thanks. I think Mikko would like to be doing this instead.”

  Hugo shrugged. “Now that he’s injured, it’s better for him to sit out this round with Sussie.”

  Freya nodded and replaced her walkie.

  “Okay,” Hugo said to the group, “four men will go out to the right of that container.” He pointed to a blue container ten meters away. “They will move forward from there, and we’ll do the same on the left side. When we get to the middle section, we’ll regroup and improvise.”

  Freya raised her weapon. “Sounds good.”

  Hugo went back to the eight troops standing in a row.

  “Okay, you four go with Freya,” he said, pointing, “and the rest of you come with me.”

  As they began to split into two groups, Hugo saw that one of the men was hesitant.

  “What’s up?” Hugo asked him.

  The man glanced at Freya and murmured, “But she’s a woman, isn’t she?”

  Hugo chuckled. “Are you serious? That woman’s far more capable and deadly than you can ever dream of being. If I hear you say something so utterly stupid again, I’ll personally throw you overboard.”

  The man flinched. “Right, sorry.”

  Freya rolled her eyes. “Okay, come with me. Here we go!”

  Hugo led his four men toward the left side of the container. When he came out into the open next to the metal crate, a gust of wind almost toppled him. He looked up—no rain, but the deck was still wet and slippery. He pointed forward and turned to the four men behind him.

  “Okay, we’re moving.”

  A couple seconds passed, and Hugo reached the edge of the container and stuck his head out. The entire middle section, an area of fifteen meters square, was empty. Hugo peered at the other side of the open space. There was no movement. A jolt ran through Hugo. He didn’t understand why the attackers weren’t moving forward. When they had chased him and Mikko, they’d had the upper hand, but something had stopped them from pursuing the attack.

  Now wasn’t the time to think about it, though. It was a mistake on their part, and Hugo would gladly take advantage of it. His walkie-talkie crackled.

  “Hugo?”

  It was Freya. Hugo pulled up his walkie-talkie.

  “Yes?”

  “I see you. Do you see me?”

  Hugo turned to the right and looked for movement. There—an arm moved up and down. “Yes, I see you. How are things looking from your side?”

  “Quite abandoned. Whoever chased you, they don’t seem interested in continuing the chase.”

  Hugo scouted the area again but still saw nothing. “No,” he agreed, “apparently not.” His brain rushed. If they were going to do something, it needed to happen now. The area was wide open.

  Hugo said into the walkie, “Okay, let’s go. Go over to the other side. We’ll do the same.”

  “Roger. Five seconds.”

  Hugo pushed the walkie-talkie into his pocket while he quietly counted to five. “Two,” he whispered, “one, now.” He signaled for the four troops behind him to follow, and they hurried across. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Freya doing the same with her men. They all pressed against the container walls, and Hugo was about to pull up the walkie-talkie again when a shot fired, hitting just a few decimeters above his head.

  ***

  Satisfaction—there was just no other word for it. Well, maybe power. Jasper Roscoe emptied the last remains of the champagne glass and glanced out the window. He was ten thousand meters up in the air, so the view was outstanding. A beautiful flight attendant came walking toward him with a smile.

  “Is everything to your satisfaction, Mr. Roscoe?”

  He held out his hand to her, and she took a few tentative steps closer.

  “Everything is just as it should be,” he replied.

  The flight attendant’s smile froze as he pulled her closer. “Um, excellent, Mr. Roscoe. Do you want anything else before we start the approach?”

  Jasper smirked and pulled so close that her legs touched his. She smelled so delicious, but he noticed her trying to pull away.

  “Yes, I can think of several things I want. How about you? Do you want the same things as me?”

  The flight attendant’s smile became even more strained when she couldn’t free herself from Jasper’s grip. A second later, the speakers crackled.

  “This is the pilot speaking. We’re starting our approach now, so please fold up your trays and take your seats.”

  When Jasper’s attention was momentarily elsewhere, the flight attendant pulled her arm out of Jasper’s grasp. She took a quick few steps back.

  “Like the captain just said, we’re on our way to the landing now.” Her voice fell silent. Jasper bit his lip and shrugged. There would be more opportunities.

  “Okay, then, if you say so.”

  He lost interest in the flight attendant and instead fixed his gaze out the window at the coast of Norway, which was
fast approaching. Oslo. He’d been there before on business trips. He’d always liked the city; it may have been a little expensive, but it had some stunning women. Norway and Scandinavia, for that matter, had exquisite women, as well. Jasper saw himself as a connoisseur on the subject.

  But there was no time for any of that on this trip. Too much was at stake. He’d been preparing this for weeks, and nothing could go wrong now. As chairman of Pantheon Global, Jasper enjoyed a vast network and a highly developed business acumen. In recent years, that had driven him to a conclusion that seemed one hundred percent logical.

  The time had come to eat or be eaten.

  In the defense sector, a handful of corporations and conglomerates sat on the lion’s share of all defense equipment sold globally: one Russian company, one Chinese, one American, and two European. And in the past two decades, that development had accelerated.

  There had been more before, but two American companies had been acquired, as had one Russian. It had further strengthened Jasper’s conviction that they had to go on the offensive. And what he had planned would do just that. There were only a few obstacles left.

  The phone in his jacket pocket vibrated, and he took it out and answered it. The connection was poor, but the tone on the other side was still noticeably stressed.

  “Hey. It’s me.”

  Sara Blitz. Jesus Christ.

  “Why are you calling, Sara? I told you just two hours ago that you shouldn’t call this number.”

  Sara hesitated. “I know. Sorry. But I just couldn’t stop myself. Have you seen the news?”

  “No. What about it?”

  “It’s gone completely sideways. There’s chaos out in Oresund. Raynard called me and told me they’d been chased on a ship.”

  Jasper could hardly believe his ears. “Raynard called and said what?”

  Sara recounted what Raynard had told her, and Jasper felt a rush of panic. Not now. It couldn’t go wrong now. He moaned.

  “Are you sure about this?”

  “Am I sure? No, of course not. But on the news, it looks like there’s some kind of emergency out in Oresund. They’re putting in extra broadcasts live on TV.”