The Tahitian Pearl: A John Otter Novel (John Otter Novels Book 2)

by Sean Blaise

  Abdul looked back at Dmitry who nodded, and they removed his hood. Mr. Abodeen was frightened, some heavy bruising around his face and neck already beginning to swell to various colors of purple and black. He was sweating profusely, and his eyes were completely wild with panic. This would be a cake walk, Dmitry thought. He only hoped the fat man wouldn't have an unfortunate heart attack or something silly like that before he got his point across.

  "And what happened?" Alexi asked taking another sip of the cognac.

  "Nothing, we scared Mr. Abodeen, roughed him up a bit. He told us everything before we had to even hurt him."

  "Remind me what your investigation told us?"

  "Nothing. A courier approached Mr. Abodeen with instructions to delay all of our ships’ passage through the Suez Canal on trumped-up safety violations. He was paid twenty thousand a month through a dead drop to create these problems for us. I watched the drop location for weeks and came up empty. Someone didn't want our ships going through as fast as others, but we never found out who it was. But someone was trying to hurt your profits."

  "Remind me, did we pay Mr. Abodeen more than the other man?"

  "No, I merely threatened death, and said our ships need to pass as they had always passed before, quickly and fairly. He understood, we had no more problems."

  "So, the problem was solved."

  "Until a month later. Mr. Abodeen was found with his throat cut in his car."

  "So, whomever was paying him didn't like being disobeyed. And this man, Abdul? How did we find him to begin with?" Alexi said pointing at Abdul's photo.

  "The Greek."

  "Then we need to call the Greek. I want to know if he hired Abdul for this attack on our ship.”

  "Alexi, you know the Greek, he will never divulge...."

  "Dmitry, this man Abdul attacked me, my crew and my home. Impress upon the Greek that he does not want me as an enemy," Alexi said, anger forming in his eyes again. Dmitry nodded and left.

  Chapter 44

  Captain Bae picked up the phone in his cabin and dialed the number to headquarters. He was trembling with both excitement of the pursuit and more than a little fear of his employer.

  "Captain Bae, ship Tsung Tao, for manger Kim, please."

  The called had been placed to the Singapore-based shipping company that was a front for the North Korean Intelligence service. The secretary asked him to hold, while the call was patched and encrypted to Pyongyang directly. His superior was a fastidious man of late hours, and Captain Bae was fairly confident he was wide awake even at this hour.

  "Most unusual hour to call, captain. This had better be important."

  Captain Bae flinched involuntarily, and had a fleeting moment of doubt, but reminded himself that it was Kim who had placed his vessel on this mission to begin with.

  "Sir, the yacht has been attacked by pirates."

  "What? When? Speak you fool!"

  Captain Bae related the radio call to the minister of intelligence as quickly as possible. The less time he spent speaking to the man, the better in his mind.

  "I have altered course, sir. And will intercept the attack position in approximately 1 hour."

  "What of the navy coalition?"

  "They will take longer than me to respond. I will pass through the last known location and discover what I can about the attack. If I am asked, I will say I responded to the Mayday as any good seamen should."

  "Where is the vessel now?"

  "I tracked them moving away from the location of the attack. We have heard multiple radio conversations, they appear to have injuries, but are alive."

  "Very well, pass through the area, see if there are any attackers alive, apprehend them to find out if they were also after what we seek."

  "And after?"

  "Continue on your scheduled run to Dubai. Off-load your cargo and there will be new manifests for your continued journey following the Ivana to wherever she is headed next."

  "Of course, sir."

  "And captain?"

  "Yes, minister?"

  "Next time do not delay when contacting me. This mission is of the highest importance. You will either fail or succeed with the mission and so will your family."

  "Of course, minister."

  There was a dead tone as the minister had already hung up on him. Captain Bae was furious, there was no pleasing the man. His rage boiled over as he phoned the ship's bridge.

  "Speed?"

  "Captain, 12.5 Knots sir," his chief officer replied.

  "I said full speed ahead! I want 15 knots or nothing! Get it done!!"

  "But…."

  "Do it!" Bae screamed as he slammed down the phone. He didn't give a damn what that engineer said. He didn't care if the ship flew apart, as long as he got to that attack point quickly. He felt better after yelling at his first officer. He liked the man, but shit rolled downhill. He had no doubt the chief officer was now screaming at the engineer. He smiled at the thought.

  Chapter 45

  Abdul winced as he tried to unscrew the spear for the fourth time. The screams of pain coming from Faris nearly made his blood curdle. The spear finally parted from the tip buried in the boat, and he was able to move Faris onto his side. He knew better than to remove the spear from Faris's gut, which would leave a gaping hole in his friend’s body that would drain the life out of him twice as fast.

  "Are you in less pain?" Abdul asked as he laid him down on the deck.

  "Of course not," Faris said. The boat was still filling with water slowly and although he wanted to focus on his friend, he knew he needed to get moving on his escape plan if he wanted any chance of them escaping at all.

  "Kill me, Abdul. End it for me, please. Don't let me die like this," Faris said.

  "I have a plan to get us out, stay with me," Abdul said. He turned and slid down the small entryway into the little cabin at the front of the boat. Here the floor was still relatively dry, and there was a small V-berth bed. On the bed there was the case with the satellite phone he always brought with him. He twisted the antenna up on the back and hit the green power button. Abdul rushed back outside. He waited as the phone attempted to connect with its Inmarsat geostationary satellite, 22,000 miles above his head.

  "You're wasting your time. He won't come for us. He will know we failed."

  "How? He can't know. And from what I know about his desire for the case, he can’t afford not to find out for sure.”

  Faris rolled onto his side as water sloshed in his face, and he accidentally hit the spear tip on the floor. He screamed as it sent waves of pain through his body. Abdul turned and looked at his friend. Faris was as good as dead and he knew it.

  Finally, the lime green screen blinked up with a happy four bar signal. Abdul dialed the Sheikh's number and waited.

  "I was expecting your call," the Sheikh said.

  "I have the case," Abdul replied.

  "No, you do not."

  Fuck! Abdul took a breath as he tried to steady his voice. The Sheikh was his only way out. And he knew the Sheikh would only help him if he had the case. He needed to be more convincing than ever.

  "I do. We shot down the helicopter with the Russian and his crew in it."

  "I know and he is still alive. Why lie to me?"

  "He is alive. They escaped, under heavy fire. We hit some of their crew, but in his exit, he left the case in the helicopter. We retrieved it before they made their escape."

  "I do not believe you; he would never leave the case."

  "He had no choice. We nearly killed him. He jumped from the helicopter and onto a jet ski. He couldn't get the case without losing his life."

  There was a long pause on the phone. The story was plausible, the Sheikh mused. He had only had confirmation from his Yemeni Navy contacts that the Ivana had suffered an attack, and someone was wounded. Nothing about who or what was wounded.

  "Put Jamil on the phone, if he confirms that you have it, I will not cancel the pickup."

  Abdul looked at Jamil'
s lifeless body, his arm reaching through the boat seemed to ask for the phone. Abdul felt a chill.

  "We suffered losses. Your men are all dead."

  "How convenient," said the Sheikh.

  "Your information was wrong. You are to blame for the mission failure. The crew were heavily armed, and highly skilled. The yacht was twice as fast as you said."

  "I was told you were the best. Apparently not."

  "Very well, I'll sell the case to someone else."

  With that Abdul hung up the phone. It was a risk, a huge gamble, but sometimes simple human nature worked. He knew that the Sheikh had no choice but to find out whether or not he had the case. Abdul knew that the more confident he seemed, the more likely he was to get picked up as previously arranged.

  "That was risky," Faris said coughing up more blood. He leaned against the cabin wall, trying to keep the protruding spear from touching anything.

  After five minutes, Abdul knew he made a mistake. He slumped down in the water and looked at his dying friend. He had taken the gamble and lost. Finally, the cruel gods of fate had turned their backs on him. He had embarrassed them by cheating death so many times when it was clearly his turn; and, now, there was no way out.

  "I'm sorry," he said to Faris, tears beginning to form in his eyes. He slumped back, his hand trembling as he ran it through his hair. Jamil's lifeless eyes stayed locked on Abdul as he swayed gently with the sea.

  “I’m sorry," he said again his voice cracking with emotion.

  Chapter 46

  John woke up startled in bed when he felt it. The stab of pain radiating from his arm to his neck and back. Dmitry and Sweeney were lifting John into the stretcher, trying not to disturb his seeping wound. Ingrid carried the IV bag alongside John as the trio painstakingly climbed the three flights of steps to the helicopter pad. Alexi followed behind carrying his sat phone.

  The Russian Kamov-Ka 60 helicopter appeared low and fast on the horizon. The helicopter turned into the oncoming breeze and touched down on the Ivana’s helideck with incredible speed. The door slid open and two Russian Naval medics emerged from the chopper with heads down and rushed to John.

  "What's happening?" John shouted to Sweeney.

  "Airlifting you to the U.S.S. Enterprise for treatment."

  "What?" John asked with confusion before the Russian medics quickly grabbed the stretcher and began carrying him toward the still turning helicopter. The helicopter's fuel constraints left no time to waste. They lifted him into the back of the helicopter when Alexi appeared at the side of the helicopter.

  "You will be OK, John. I will retrieve you as soon as you are well."

  "I...." John said as he felt another massive bolt of pain and began to drift off again. One of the medics pulled out his IV and began setting up another bag in the helicopter. He pushed the helicopter door closed. Alexi walked to the pilot’s door, who opened it.

  Alexi slipped his hand into his pants and retrieved a wad of cash and placed it in the helicopter pilot's hand.

  “Make sure he gets there in time," Alexi said in Russian.

  The pilot looked at the twenty-five thousand dollars in cash in his hand. It was the combined salaries of his entire crew for four months. He looked back at Alexi with grim determination on his face.

  "Da," the pilot said. The helicopter's blades sped up and the helicopter lifted off again for the second time that day. The helicopter’s turbines could be heard screaming at full throttle as the pilot rushed to earn the money Alexi had given him.

  Alexi opened his sat phone and walked to the back edge of the helicopter pad. Defense Minister Yuri picked up the phone on the first ring.

  "You did well, Yuri," Alexi said.

  "This was very costly, Alexi. The prime minister is not happy. He will have trouble explaining this.”

  "I will fix everything, Yuri. You and the prime minister need to have more faith."

  "Alexi, this will be very hard to...."

  "Yuri, I owe you, and I always pay my debts." Alexi hung up the phone.

  Alexi dialed her number by heart and pressed the send button. New York Times reporter Sandra O'Connor pushed aside her Chinese food container and answered her phone, trying to swallow what remained of her chow mein before having to speak.

  "Alexi here. I have a story I'd like you to run tomorrow."

  Sandra took out her pen and wrote down his every word.

  Chapter 47

  Abdul jumped as the satellite phone rang. He looked over at Faris with a smile. Abdul let the phone ring a few times, before he finally answered it.

  "Yes?"

  "Let's make a deal," the Sheikh began.

  "No. I set the terms. I've lost my crew, nearly died, now it's time to pay."

  "Go on."

  "The old deal is gone. It's five hundred thousand now for the case."

  "Very steep. Have you looked inside?"

  "No."

  “Then how do you know what it’s worth?"

  "Do we have a deal?"

  "Yes. The plane is on the way as we had previously arranged."

  "Good. How long till it gets here?"

  "Not more than one hour. He left a while ago. And Abdul, I have given the pilot instructions to not land unless you show him the case. I still don't believe you."

  The Sheikh took down Abdul's latitude and longitude, which was available on the sat phone display and hung up. Abdul closed the phone with relief. They were going to make it. Once more, he was going to cheat death.

  "I did it, brother, the seaplane is coming. Only a few more hours and we'll...."

  Abdul turned around with a smile on his face. Lying there, eyes wide open with a frozen grimace of pain still on his face, Faris didn't respond.

  Chapter 48

  Abdul bent over his friend and closed his eyes. He was gone. Abdul swallowed hard and tried to hold back the emotion, but there was no reason to. Everyone was dead, and no one was there to witness his weakness. He held Faris, and he quickly felt anger boiling to the surface. Anger at the Sheikh, sitting in his castle pulling his strings. Angry at the bastard who'd killed his friend. He vowed revenge against the young man with the spear, and the Russian who had escaped with everything.

  Abdul jumped to his feet as Jamil’s body began to move. Jamil looked as though he was reaching for something in the ocean he couldn’t quite get. It was jerky movement, but Jamil suddenly lurched toward the hole in the side of the boat. Abdul couldn't believe his eyes and was sure he was losing his mind. Suddenly the line attached to the boat cleat pulled taught and Abdul felt the boat pulled down until the line parted with a wicked snap. Jamil washed all the way back to the middle of the boat. Abdul knew what happened when he saw the nub of Jamil’s arm cleaved off at the shoulder, with a surgical bite. Abdul leaned over the side of the boat and saw the shark. It was large almost the length of the boat, and silver. Through the blood-stained water, he could make out the line trailing behind the shark as he devoured Jamil's arm.

  Abdul heard the rush of water as the ocean began to pour into the hole no longer blocked by Jamil's arm. He looked around and found the bucket the boys had used earlier to bail out the boat. He grabbed at it and waded back towards the hole. He used his foot to block the opening of the hole slowing the ingress of seawater, while he began to bail desperately.

  As he dumped bucket after bucket of water overboard, he saw more shapes, dark, slender missiles, gliding slowly in large circles around the boat. They were attracted by the blood flowing from the speedboat. Abdul knew that as time passed, they would only grow in number. He bent down and took up another bucket of water. He had plenty of arms left on board to stuff in the hole, but he wouldn't dare jump into the ocean now to set it up. He looked around the horizon desperately and saw nothing but blue expanse, and a baking hot sun. There was nothing around, even the wind was dying. The ocean was calming, its surface becoming slick and flat like a pool of oil. He glanced at his watch and realized only fifteen minutes had passed since his call with
the Sheikh. The boat was low in the water now and getting lower. There was no way he'd make it to the pickup.

  He began to bail frantically, his back screaming in protest as he lurched upright again and again. He felt helpless. Despair was creeping in and he knew it. He tried to force it from his mind, but every second he picked up the heavy bucket, he felt the cool ocean rushing in around his foot to replace it. He turned and looked around for anything to stop the flow. Then he saw it. Their clothes.

  He rushed from the hole and ripped off what was left of Jamil’s shirt. He then removed the man’s pants as well. He went back to the hole and began tying and twisting the clothes together, making a large ball. He shoved it towards the hole and nearly lost it through the other side. He needed more. He turned and ran to Hamoud, who was still leaning over the front of the boat where he had died. He pulled him back into the boat, trying not to look at the ghastly mutilation of his body, while he removed his pants. He took the pants and wrapped them tightly around his ball of clothes and used Jamil’s belt to cinch it tight. He sloshed in the water back to the hole and began pushing and stuffing the ball of clothes it into the hole. The ball wedged itself in the hole nicely, and the water flow slowed to a trickle. He then picked up the bucket and began to bail again, trying to empty the now half-filled boat. A large fin broke the surface, where the splash from the bucket had just been, reminding Abdul that, once more, he was surrounded by enemies, wanting and waiting to kill him.

  Chapter 49

  The Russian Naval medics hooked into John's IV and began a morphine drip. John barely felt the jarring of the helicopter as it barreled at 155 knots towards the U.S.S. Enterprise. He drifted into a hazy state before slipping asleep. The pilot looked over his shoulder at the head medic.

  "How is he doing?"

  "Not good, drifting in and out of consciousness. He's lost too much blood."