‘That’s confidential,’ snapped Macbeth.
‘Does that really matter now?’ said Jack.
‘I suppose not.’
‘Well?’
‘All right. I’ll tell you,’ said Macbeth.
Calypso was beginning to list noticeably to port and the fire was advancing with alarming speed, devouring everything in its path. Most of the crew had jumped overboard by now and were being picked up by fishing boats circling the sinking ship. The fighting, however, hadn’t let up. Sharif’s men were now attacking from two sides. Thanks to Sharif’s grenades, they were gaining the upper hand, but due to the chaos and confusion, progress was slow.
Sharif saw Kobo first and waved. Keeping his head down, Kobo crawled across the deck to reach his friend.
‘There isn’t much time,’ said Kobo, trying to catch his breath.
‘Where are they?’ asked Sharif.
‘Upper deck. In Macbeth’s cabin.’
‘And Macbeth?’
‘He’s there too.’
‘Then let’s go.’
A speedboat full of heavily armed men – HAU reinforcements from Mogadishu – turned into the bay and raced towards the burning ship. Anticipating such a possibility, AK-47-2 had positioned itself near the entry and opened fire with heavy machine guns. The men in the boat were torn apart by a hail of bullets just before their speedboat exploded, sending a plume of blue-black smoke high into the brilliant sky.
Lola hurried after Kobo and Sharif and caught up with them near the stairs leading to the upper deck. ‘I’m coming with you,’ she said, checking her gun. ‘Can you hear it?’
‘What?’ said Kobo.
‘The chopper. Someone has just started the helicopter.’
Baashi and Tristan ran up the gangway. Tristan recognised Lola’s voice and caught a glimpse of her at the opposite side of the deck just before she disappeared around the corner. Dodging bullets, Tristan ran after her. ‘Wait for me!’ he shouted.
Lola froze and then turned around. ‘You? Here? Are you out of your mind?’ she hissed, barely able to speak.
‘You’ll need me,’ said Tristan. ‘Jack and Dr Rosen need us; up there. We must hurry!’
‘Stay behind me; both of you,’ ordered Lola and hurried after Kobo and Sharif.
As they passed one of the cabins, the door opened. One of Johannes’ men stepped into the corridor and opened fire with his handgun. Sharif was hit, but only in the arm. Honed by years of hand-to-hand combat practice, Lola’s reflexes worked like lightning. Before the man could take aim again and fire, she raised her gun and shot him between the eyes, blowing the back of his head away.
‘You can come on our raids any time,’ said Sharif, impressed. He had never seen a woman shoot like that before.
‘You are bleeding,’ said Kobo.
‘It’s nothing,’ said Sharif, grinning. ‘Upstairs; hurry!’
85
Calypso was sinking fast. The water had almost reached the main deck and the stern was already under water. Time was running out. Carlotta burst into Macbeth’s cabin, breathless, her voice shrill. ‘The chopper’s waiting,’ she shouted. ‘If we don’t leave right now, it’s too late!’
‘We aren’t going anywhere,’ said Jack calmly.
‘You are crazy!’ exclaimed Carlotta, her eyes wide with fear. She kept staring first at the gun in Jack’s hand, then at the dead man on the floor.
‘Not yet, anyway,’ said Jack, ‘because—’ He was interrupted by a commotion in the corridor outside. ‘We are waiting for this man here,’ Jack finished, and pointed to Sharif standing in the doorway.
‘Go! Now!’ said Sharif to Jack. ‘Hurry! Leave him and his death ship to me. Take the helicopter. There’s room for you all. Lola and Tristan are waiting outside with Kobo. Move!’
‘Lola and Tristan? Here?’ said Jack, surprised.
‘Yes. I’ve waited a long time for this … Hurry!’ said Sharif.
‘You can’t do that!’ shouted Macbeth. ‘You can’t leave me here with him!’
‘Oh, yes I can. Destiny and fate, remember? In the end, we live and die by what we do, and who we are. And we both know who, and what you are, don’t we?’ Jack hit back. He quickly snatched his notebook from Macbeth’s desk, slipped the gun into his pocket and picked up Dr Rosen from the floor. ‘Put your arm around me, Bettany,’ he said. ‘Let’s go.’
‘Rogan; no!’ shouted Macbeth.
Jack stopped at the door and looked at Macbeth. ‘Here, have a good look. For someone who’s achieved so much, you know so little. Say goodbye to your sister here, and think about the son you’ve never met and the woman you had killed who loved you. You’ve lost, Macbeth. It’s over!’
Jack turned to Sharif. ‘Thank you my friend, and good luck. One less villain like this in the world is something to celebrate. Until the next time,’ he said, and helped Dr Rosen out of the cabin.
‘Damn you, Rogan. Go to hell!’ shouted Macbeth.
‘You, much sooner than I, Siegfried,’ said Jack, ‘count on it,’ and hurried down the corridor.
The noise outside was deafening. Tilting alarmingly to one side, the helicopter was ready to take off, its rotor blades churning up the air like a wild storm at sea. Lola sat at the controls, Tristan in the seat beside her. Kobo was pointing a gun at the pilot lying on the deck in front of him.
‘Hurry, Jack,’ said Kobo. ‘Get in, before it’s too late!’
‘What about you?’
‘I’m staying. Sharif and I have unfinished business here …’ said Kobo, grinning.
Johannes stood behind a winch and watched the helicopter getting ready to take off. Most of his men had been killed or wounded in the firefight. Those who could had jumped overboard to save themselves. Two had drowned. For Johannes, abandoning ship wasn’t an option. Instead, he would stop the helicopter and kill everyone on deck. Right now.
He was so focused on what was happening in front of him that he didn’t notice the man creeping up from behind. Johannes raised his machine gun and was about to pull the trigger when he felt something hard pressing against the back of his head.
‘Put down the gun,’ said Baashi, ‘or I’ll blow your head off.’
Johannes froze, not wanting to believe what was happening. His gun was pointing at Kobo. He knew he could kill him easily before the man standing behind him could pull the trigger. Die a little later, or die now with honour and kill the fucking kaffer? Johannes pondered. He made a split-second decision and pulled the trigger. Hit in the chest, Kobo collapsed. Baashi pulled the trigger too and blew Johannes’ head apart.
‘Oh my God!’ shouted Jack, looking over his shoulder. He lifted Dr Rosen into the helicopter and ran back to Kobo, convulsing in a pool of blood. Kobo’s eyes were turning glassy, but somehow he managed a crooked smile. ‘Go, my friend,’ he whispered, blood gushing out of his mouth and a huge hole in his chest. The terrified pilot got up, ran across the deck and dived overboard.
Jack looked at the chopper. Lola and Tristan were madly waving at him from inside. Then the deck moved again and Lola had to take off to prevent the chopper from sliding sideways and turning over. Water from the stern had almost reached Jack by now and he had to wade through water to reach the chopper hovering a few feet above the pitching deck. Only an experienced pilot like Lola could have attempted such a risky manoeuvre. Leaning out of the open door, Tristan reached out to Jack, struggling below. Jack managed to climb on top of one of the chopper’s skids, grabbed Tristan’s hand and pulled himself inside. Without Tristan’s help, he wouldn’t have made it. Lola smiled at Jack, pulled out the throttle and took off.
‘There – look!’ said Tristan, and pointed excitedly to the sinking ship below. Lola turned the chopper around to give them a better view. Sharif and Baashi were pushing Macbeth’s wheelchair across the flooded deck towards the handrail. Carlotta ran after them, obviously distressed and gesticulating wildly.
Macbeth had been strapped into the wheelchair with some kind of ch
ord wound around his chest and was unable to move. Now up to their knees in water, Sharif and Baashi lifted the wheelchair onto the handrail. Sharif looked up at the chopper hovering above, waved with one hand and then pushed Macbeth and the wheelchair into the deep water.
Carlotta jumped in after him. For an instant, the wheelchair appeared to float away from the sinking ship, but before Carlotta could get hold of Macbeth, the forces of the deep reached up from below and sucked Carlotta, Macbeth and the heavy chair down into the darkness.
Macbeth and Carlotta drowned well before the wheelchair sank to the sandy bottom and came to rest next to a large container full of toxic waste.
Sharif and Baashi threw away their guns, jumped overboard and swam towards the zodiac coming to pick them up. Moments later, Calypso’s bow disappeared below the waves and the sea was calm again.
Lola could see Mogadishu airport below. Pegasus was parked on the tarmac next to the main runway. She had earlier radioed ahead and told the pilots to prepare the plane for immediate departure. Ignoring the frantic instructions coming from the control tower, Lola put the chopper down next to Pegasus and turned off the engine. This was contrary to all safety regulations, but she didn’t care. Instead, they all climbed out quickly and ran towards Pegasus.
‘We’re just about there,’ said Jack, helping Dr Rosen up the stairs.
‘Why is it that every time we do something together, it almost ends in disaster?’ said Dr Rosen, holding on tight.
‘Travelling with incorrigible rascals is like that, I’m afraid,’ said Jack, almost hitting his head as he ducked through the narrow door into the plane. ‘You should know this by now.’
Lola secured the door behind him and hurried past Tristan to the cockpit. ‘I want to talk to you,’ she said, pointing an accusing finger at Tristan. Tristan knew what was coming and was ready.
‘Don’t be too hard on him,’ said Jack. ‘Without him, I wouldn’t be here.’
‘And without Baashi shooting that man, none of us would have made it,’ said Tristan. ‘That’s what I saw, and that’s why Baashi and I couldn’t stay behind. It was meant to be, can’t you see?’
‘He always has an answer, doesn’t he?’ said Lola, shaking her head.
‘Tell me about it,’ said Jack.
Pegasus’ powerful engines roared into life and the plane began to move forward. Minutes later, they were in the air – high above Mogadishu – and then turned north heading for London, their destination.
86
Nothing could have prepared them for the media frenzy at Heathrow. Dr Rosen had called her contact in the United Nations from the plane and told her what happened. She was hoping to ignite some interest in the Somali atrocities she had discovered, which before her abduction, had so frustratingly fallen on deaf ears. Sensing a unique opportunity to go public with the Somali horror camp incident as part of a sensational news story unfolding across the globe, her UN contact had tipped off the media. Dr Rosen didn’t mind and agreed to hold a press conference with Jack upon their arrival in London.
Jack looked at Dr Rosen sitting next to him in the plane. ‘Are you sure about this?’ he said, well aware of what could be waiting for them.
‘I know it’ll be rough going, but if it’s the only way to draw attention to what’s happening in Somalia, it’s worth it.’
Jack nodded. ‘I understand.’
‘I’m sorry to drag you into this,’ continued Dr Rosen, ‘but I do believe we must face the media together, don’t you think?’
‘I suppose so. But I’ll stay in the background. This is your story.’
Jack could visualise his New York publicist eagerly rubbing her hands together. ‘All publicity is good publicity, Jack,’ she used to lecture him. ‘Remember that!’
‘Will you help me deal with the press? You know a lot more about this than I do.’
Jack glanced at Dr Rosen. She looked vulnerable and a little scared, he thought. After what they had just been through, it was hardly surprising. However, Jack knew that Dr Rosen was a fearless warrior with a cause, and he was determined to help her in the battle to come.
‘I think I know how we should handle this,’ said Jack. He pulled his treasured little notebook out of his pocket and began to write.
‘You got it back!’ said Dr Rosen, pointing to Jack’s familiar notebook held together with the rubber band.
‘You didn’t think I would leave without it?’ Jack shook his head. ‘No way! My iPad and phone may be at the bottom of the sea, but not this.’ Somehow, Jack’s easygoing manner and irrepressible humour made Dr Rosen feel suddenly better.
‘So, what’s the plan, Jack?’
‘I’ll tell you …’
Sensational news of the audacious Somali pirate attack and the sinking of the Calypso was already racing around the globe. Rumour that the enigmatic head of the Blackburn Pharmaceuticals empire had gone down with his ship had gone viral. This was big news. And then, to find that Dr Rosen’s abduction was somehow part of it made the story irresistible.
However, Jack’s involvement was still a bit of a mystery to the eager press, but it was generally assumed he had been assisting Dr Rosen in breaking the story, and that was why he too, had been abducted.
Every major news channel was trying to get a piece of the action, and the action was unfolding at Heathrow Airport with the arrival of Pegasus, Isis’ private jet with The Time Machine’s famous logo prominently painted on its sides. This alone made the story even more exciting and intriguing to the hungry newshounds sniffing a major coup.
After they were cleared by the British authorities, Jack and Dr Rosen were ushered by security staff into a hall where the press was waiting. Every major TV channel and newspaper was represented, with dozens of cameramen and journalists jockeying for position in the crowded hall.
Jack had left Tristan in Lola’s care. They were ushered through a side exit to a waiting car and were already on their way to The Time Machine studios. Jack and Dr Rosen would catch up with them there after the press conference.
‘My God, Jack, look at them,’ said Dr Rosen. She was trying to shield her eyes with her hand from the glare of the flashes from countless cameras pointing at her. ‘Did you expect this?’
‘I did, I’m afraid.’
Jack stepped up to the microphone and held up his hand. He was a storyteller and he would tell the waiting press a story they wouldn’t forget in a hurry.
The room fell silent and all eyes were on the man in the baggy, ill-fitting shorts and bloodstained Blackburn Pharmaceutical’s tee-shirt.
‘Ladies and gentlemen, only hours ago, Dr Rosen and I went through a horrific ordeal. It is only because of luck and the bravery of others we are standing here to tell the tale. And this is a tale that has to be told now. You will see why in a moment,’ said Jack. Suddenly, it was so quiet in the crowded hall that all one could hear was the clicking of the camera shutters. ‘However, there are conditions …’
‘What conditions?’ shouted someone at the back.
‘I will tell you what happened to us after our abduction by Al-Shabaab in Nairobi four days ago, and how it ended. But first, Dr Rosen will make a brief statement. She will tell you about a terrible discovery we made in Somalia. We are convinced that this discovery was the reason behind our abduction and the extraordinary events that followed. As you can imagine, both of us are still somewhat in shock. Therefore, neither Dr Rosen nor I will take any questions; that will be for another time. We would ask you to respect that. And no interruptions please. Thank you.’ Jack turned away from the lectern. ‘Dr Rosen …’
Dr Rosen had presence. She stepped forward with confidence and adjusted the microphone, her hand shaking. This is for you, Gaal, she thought. It wasn’t in vain.
‘Ladies and gentlemen, Mr Rogan and I have agreed to meet with you now – moments after our arrival – because we have discovered something in Somalia the world has to know about. You are the eyes and ears of the world, and if we don’t speak
up, the atrocities will go on, the vulnerable and the weak will continue to suffer in silence, and the dead will have died for nothing because no one cares. And why is this so? Because no one knows, and those who should, don’t want to. We are here to change that.’
Dr Rosen was a charismatic speaker who knew how to engage her audience. She spoke with a passion that had everyone in the room spellbound, hanging on her every word. She described the horrible skin diseases and deformities caused by exposure to years of illegal toxic waste dumping in graphic detail. She spoke of social destruction, hopelessness and pain of an entire generation in a way that had many an eye turn misty.
‘Sad and tragic as all of this is, ladies and gentlemen, it is not the reason I am talking to you now. I’m here to tell you about something far worse: the ugly side of human nature that somehow believes the end justifies the means, whatever the cost.’ Dr Rosen paused, ran her fingers through her hair and looked at something in the distance only she could see.
‘It is what Mr Rogan and I discovered in a secret camp in Somalia,’ she said quietly after a while, ‘that brings us here. What we discovered will shock you. But what will shock you even more is to learn who was behind it all, and why.’
Dr Rosen then went on to describe what she found at the camp, and what had been going on there. She spoke of their narrow escape, Dr Gaal’s violent death and how his severed hand had been sent to her at Dadaab as a warning. Overcome by emotion, she had to stop several times, before she was able to continue.
Cross knew he would be late. He was stuck in traffic and cursed the fact that MI5 had only just received word of the impromptu press conference at the airport. Aware of the potentially far-reaching consequences should Jack decide to speak about certain sensitive subjects currently under investigation, he had been instructed by his superiors to shut it down – discreetly – and without causing a scandal or embarrassment to the government.
The Hidden Genes of Professor K: A Medical Mystery Thriller (Jack Rogan Mysteries Book 3) Page 42
