Alicia didn’t struggle.
Before Alicia could say a word, Kobe punched her four times in the face. As soon as he’d finished, she was released. Alicia gasped, her skull on fire, her head pounding. She opened her mouth to speak but Kobe was already slipping back behind his desk.
“That will be all,” he said.
Alicia sputtered, but stopped herself. Truth be told, she’d gotten away lightly. The bruises would look bad for a while, they would become inflamed, but they weren’t permanent. He hadn’t broken any bones. Of course, he was only protecting his investment.
“Hey,” Kobe said as she turned to leave. “I see you back here again, I’ll be using my machete. Oh, and Kordu?”
“Yes?” Pigswill turned.
“Double your efforts with the passengers. We don’t have long now. We’ve drawn this out as long as we can. You find him now, or Salene’s employer will butcher us all.”
Alicia said nothing, but followed Pigswill out the door. She endured a heated four minutes letting him harangue her on their way back to the restaurant and then made her way back to her potted plant. Pigswill couldn’t resist jabbing his rifle into the bottom of her spine as she went, making her grind her teeth in anger.
But Alicia sat quickly, moving meekly and subserviently.
Only when people stopped looking at her did she raise her eyes to Drake and the others.
“Got it,” she mouthed.
Their concern turned to jubilation. Alicia noted that it was 9.30 p.m. There was still a little time until the passengers and the pirates would start to nod off. Taking care, she dug the comms out of the planter and switched it back on.
“No issues,” she said. “But I did find out one bit of juicy info. The pirates are definitely searching for someone. A man. They’re getting desperate.”
“Tonight,” Drake replied. “We’ll find out what’s really going on.”
“I think we have to,” Alicia said. “Because there’s something else Pigswill said to me. He said we’re all gonna die.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Drake spent some time studying their situation in a new light. Instead of a relatively simple hostage affair it appeared now as if something else was going on, either alongside the ship’s seizure or the seizure was being used as cover. Could the ship’s takeover be a false flag event? Drake didn’t believe it. But now Alicia had raised another question too.
Were the pirates planning on killing everyone?
Something about this entire operation felt off.
I think we’re gonna have to search the rest of the ship.
“As soon as we’re able,” he keyed the comms, “we need to find Kobe’s office and listen in. There’s more to this than we know. We’re blind here.”
“What’s happening back on the Bainbridge?” Alicia asked.
Luther had already been in touch with the destroyer. “Last minute planning,” he said. “They’re gearing up to hit Salene on the mainland.”
“This is all gonna kick off big time,” Drake said. “And, as usual, we’re right in the fucking middle.”
His voice might have been a little high, for one of the pirates glanced over. Drake stared back without apparent interest. The pirate looked away. Outside the windows, darkness had gathered. Stars were switching on as if by magic in the shadow-strewn skies. There was little noise now; the room quietening down. Drake was anxious, wanting everyone to doze off. The pirates had a chat, a smoke and started in on a bottle of vodka.
And still, it was after 1:00 a.m. before Drake felt comfortable sneaking out.
Even then, they had to be infinitely careful. Pigswill in particular seemed more alert tonight, probably due to his confrontation with Alicia. A little after 1.30 though, they were in the clear.
Drake used his mini-screwdriver to open the air vent but let Alicia climb up first. For speed, Luther screwed it back in place after them. Alicia took the lead, following the blueprint of the vents that would take her in the direction she’d memorized.
Within ten minutes, they were approaching Kobe’s office.
Alicia turned and put a finger to her lips. Drake nodded. This was the crux of their mission. If they were discovered up here, they would be shot. Inch by inch they crawled through the metal-lined vent pipes, sweating and breathing shallowly.
“I’m not seeing anything,” Drake whispered.
“That’s because you’re looking the wrong way, Drakey, as usual. I know what you’re staring at.”
Drake regarded her raised haunches. “It’s not bad, but I prefer the hind view of a Shelby Cobra if I’m honest.”
Alicia couldn’t respond the way she wanted to, so instead pointed to her left. There, Drake saw a ventilator grille. Soon, he was lying flat out in the shaft, peering through the small slats. Alicia turned around ahead and then came back, the top of her head touching his as they both took on board the scene in Kobe’s office.
Kobe looked like he hadn’t moved since she left. He was still sitting, staring at a laptop computer. His three cronies were seated too, lounging in front of the desk, their feet up on its scarred wooden surface. On the table and on trays on the floor was a wide array of food and drink, from which the men randomly grazed. It was proper fare, the best they could find from the kitchens. They all had full tumblers in their hands. All four men were idly chatting in English.
Drake then realized they were English. Or at least, had been given an English education. He’d heard the pirate game was lucrative, and here was proof that some knowledgeable and learned men were reaping the rewards.
“I thought it would be easier,” a jet-black-haired man sighed, scraping the back of one of his boots up and down the desk.
“In truth, so did I,” Kobe said. “But Drew, my friend, we will soon prevail. I think this Volkov fellow knew we were here for him in advance. We knew he’d have a new name. He’s a wily old bastard. I’m guessing he knew we’d be checking all the couples first, and distanced himself from his lady.”
Drew nodded. “Agreed. You don’t live this long knowing what he knows and doing what he did unless you’re paranoid as fuck and quick on your feet. He could be hiding in an empty cabin.”
“Has to be,” another man said. “Intel told us his girlfriend was unaware of his past. If he was in the restaurant, she’d be all over his old bones.”
“Karl is right,” Kobe said. “Damn, if he wasn’t pissing me off so much, I’d respect this guy.”
“You know what he did though?” Drew said in a rhetorical way. “Who he is?”
“Yeah. But fuck the FBI Most Wanted list. This guy is by far the most wanted man in the world.”
Drake met Alicia’s eyes. They were both amazed, listening to this. In addition to everything else, this was a new player, someone immensely infamous. But as far as they knew, this stranger couldn’t possibly be the most wanted man in the world.
That honor belonged to Luka Kovalenko.
“He had balls,” the fourth man said. “Doing what he did back in the day. And to Russians.” The man shivered. “There are many that would rather die than cross the old regime.”
“Oh, he had balls all right, Andre,” Kobe answered. “Some of the things he did . . .” Kobe sat back and whistled. “I’d never risk it.”
Safe in their little group behind a locked door, the leaders of the pirates talked, smoked and drank the night away. They chatted about everything, some of it reminiscing from their younger, less restricted days, but most of what they spoke of was unwholesome and distasteful.
And every so often they circled around to this mysterious character called Volkov.
“I have no idea what happened in ’89,” Drew said. “I was a babe. An accessory on my mother’s arm and a pain in my father’s neck. It would be ten years before they threw me out to fend for myself.”
Kobe nodded. “Salene told me a little of what he did. I researched the rest.”
“Why?” Drew asked, tipping back a shot.
Kobe pla
ced his heavy handgun on the table and started to dismantle it. “I’m the leader. If I fuck up, you guys survive, but I get buried with my head in the sand so Salene can shoot arrows at my face. The more information I have the better I can prevent any of that from happening.”
Drew nodded. “Good idea.”
“This Volkov,” Karl said. “Why is he so special? Isn’t the KGB dead?”
Kobe stared at him speculatively. “Dangerous words. I doubt the KGB will ever die. It just exists in a different form.”
“A different form?”
Kobe started cleaning his gun. Drake noticed how fast and expertly he went about it. This guy was ex-military for sure.
“Think of an organization with old men at its head, much like most governments around the so-called free world. Always, they will pass their goals and ideals down to the younger generation, the newcomers. If necessary, they will force their goals and ideals upon them. Thus, nothing every really changes. The young become the old and it all starts again. The old men of the KGB are still alive, still spreading their . . . policies, their guidelines. Still recruiting fresh meat to mold in their own images. You’d be a fool to think the KGB were gone.”
“Volkov’s nightmare never ends,” Drew said.
Drake became even more attentive, hoping for a revelation.
“A man that informs on the Soviets is a dead man,” Kobe said. “He knows that from the get-go. It is a given. I think only Volkov among many has survived to live a good life. A quiet life.”
“An informer on the KGB would get even worse,” Drew said. “He knew what they would do to him.”
“Yes, but he has survived thirty years,” Andre said. “His betrayal was what started the dissolution of the old Soviet Union.”
Drake pursed out his lips in a silent whistle and glanced at Alicia, who looked stunned. Without the slightest sound they both refocused their attentions on the room.
“Volkov was a traitor,” Kobe said. “The worst kind—1989 was a turning point in the world’s history. Revolutions swept the eastern bloc, Poland and Hungary. There was the Velvet Revolution in Czechoslovakia. And then the opening of the Berlin Wall, of course. De Klerk was elected as the president of South Africa, and his regime steadily dismantled the apartheid regime over the next five years, climaxing in the election of Mandela in ’94. Oh, and internet service providers started popping up all over. It so happened also, that ’89 was Volkov’s year.”
“What did he do exactly?” Karl sounded fascinated.
“Well, he was thirty-two at the time. A high-ranking, well-placed general in the Soviet Union. The old men loved him. He knew all the secrets. Knew where all the rivals were buried. But Volkov invented the sneaky, snaky analogy. Afterward they named him the Viper.”
“What happened?” Karl asked.
Kobe finished cleaning his handgun and started putting it back together. “He defected. Gave the West invaluable clues on who to watch, who to kill, who to bribe. Not only the West, all the other enemies too. And he’d had the ear of the entire government of the Soviet Union as it was then called. He took them down,” Kobe said with a little bit of respect in his voice. “He really took them down.”
“And the Soviets have been after him ever since,” Drew said. “Especially the old KGB and whatever it became. Their agents have been constantly tasked with the duty of finding the Viper—Volkov. It is said that, no matter what mission they are on, if they hear news of the Viper they must drop everything and pursue it.”
Karl whistled. “That’s crazy. They really want his ass.”
“They really do. But that’s not everything. It gets even worse . . .” Kobe put his gun aside and leaned forward, warming to his conversation.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“The story of the Viper continues after the collapse of the Soviet Union. Don’t forget, this is still the year when the Soviets pulled out of Afghanistan. Another event attributed to the Viper. When the CIA, his new American handlers, decided the traitor had outlived his usefulness they tried to kill him. Five times.”
“They label him a traitor,” Drew hissed. “But they betray their own.”
“Oh, yes, without remorse or second thought. On the slim chance that one day, this man they’d used to help destroy the Soviets, this willing man, might speak against them, they decided to end his life.”
“But that never happened?” Karl prompted.
“No. Volkov the Viper was better than them. All of them. He escaped and has lived free for thirty years.”
“Until now,” Drew said.
Kobe looked around the room. “You see something I don’t?”
“No, boss, I only meant . . .”
“I know.” Kobe sighed. “But just because the Devil puts the fear of God up Salene doesn’t help us find a fucking ghost now, does it?”
Both Drake and Alicia ground their teeth together to keep from gasping. The shock hitting their system felt like an injection of pure adrenaline.
The Devil?
Drake eyed Alicia and saw her shock and confusion. Tonight’s revelations had been worrying and surprising enough without adding the world’s most horrific professional assassin to the mix.
“I wouldn’t want to be Salene if we come up short,” Drew muttered.
“Are you kidding?” Kobe said. “Salene will hang, draw and quarter us long before the Devil gets to him.”
“Then why are we . . . you know . . . dragging this thing out?” Karl asked.
Kobe regarded him as if he was stupid. “Really? I don’t know why I allow you to even talk to me. It must look like a pirate attack. It must be sold that way to the media. And if we alert Volkov he’ll find a way to slip the net. These were the Devil’s instructions through Salene. How can you not remember?”
“A few too many,” Karl said hastily. “Sorry, boss.”
Drake considered all they had learned, trying to contain the adrenaline bolt that had shot through him with the news of the Devil’s distant involvement. Was it likely that such a specialized killer would start working for the old KGB network to track down a long-retired whistleblower?
Not really. Volkov might be so famous that he was infamous, but Drake doubted the Devil would involve himself in a thirty-year-old vendetta. The Devil had moved to the US and was looking forward to future assignments by all accounts. What was the Devil’s involvement then?
He understood the pirates now. He even understood Salene’s motivations. The African kingpin would have found it hard to refuse a direct request from the Devil. He’d have never slept soundly again. Better to carry it out successfully and return content to the life of debauchery he loved.
“A ship’s seizure off the coast of Somalia; the abduction of 200 hostages, all to locate one man?” Alicia whispered. “Sounds like the Devil’s work to me.”
“Yeah, we should get this information back to Hayden and the others,” Drake breathed back.
But the pirates hadn’t finished. Drake recalled they had been voicing their feelings over not being able to find this Volkov character when he’d zoned out.
Drew now said, “So what’s next?”
Kobe scratched his chin. “Passports and age checks have come up with nothing. Salene’s computer techs aren’t the best but . . . there’s nothing like a bit of old-fashioned torture.”
“The old guys? Won’t Volkov be ready for that?”
“Probably. But we know he’s here with the woman he loves. She’s the only reason he surfaced.”
“You want us to start torturing old women?”
“Why not?” Kobe shrugged. “Sooner or later we will get to the woman he loves.”
“So we’re coming clean? Telling the passengers we’re only here for one man?”
“Their valuables are our reward. Their jewelry, cash and credit cards. The few we can ransom. In any case, as you know, it does not matter what we tell the passengers. Increase the guard,” Kobe said. “Make sure they’re attentive. If they fall asleep, they go for
a swim, that kind of thing. Or we drag them home behind the boats. I don’t want any mistakes.”
“And the interrogations?” Drew asked.
Kobe appeared to be on the same wavelength. “You oversee them this time. Start taking a bunch of people away. Make up some excuse. Then, interrogate the women in front of the rest of them. When they’re returned to the restaurant, Volkov will get the idea.”
“We could do it in the restaurant,” Andre said with a glint in his eye.
“We could, but we’d need most of the men to keep the peace. And they’re needed elsewhere aboard ship.”
Drake frowned at that. Where else could they possibly be needed?
“To the morning then,” Drew held up a shot glass, “and the end of this mission.”
“To the morning,” the others echoed.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
As fast as they dared, Drake and Alicia made their way back along the ventilator shaft to the restaurant.
It was early morning. Darkness surrounded the boat which rose and fell lightly as the swell of the ocean crept past, never ending. Mai had spent over two hours feigning sleep and watching out for the return of Drake and Alicia. As soon as she saw their signal, she made ready, covertly motioning to Luther who made a show of rising, stretching and heading over to pour water and grab stale pastries.
Mai signaled Drake. Carefully, the two re-joined her, again using the restaurant’s ample obstacles to remain unnoticed. As soon as they arrived they turned their backs on her.
It was a sign. They needed to talk urgently, and not just to Mai and Luther. But to do that they had to wait until enough people started waking up to cover the sound of their conversation.
Two hours passed with painful sluggishness. Mai took advantage of the inaction and dozed, relieved that Drake and Alicia had returned without incident. She couldn’t convince herself that all the innocent passengers aboard this ship were going to be allowed to leave it unharmed. There were just too many pirates and too many guns; too many sweating, itchy fingers.
The Sea Rats Page 8
