“I don’t want to run into a hornet’s nest. Are you sure that everything aboard that sonofabitch is secure?”
“I’ll go up the ladder first. If something goes wrong you can take off.”
Captain Fernandez eyed Bahmad with suspicion. “I’ll leave Antonio with my boat.”
“As you wish, but we’ll need to arm ourselves with the MAC 10s.”
“What kind of trouble are you expecting?”
“None, if you do as you’re told. But we need to take care of the crew. All of them, except for my two officers. There’ll be an extra two hundred fifty thousand in it for you. Just for you, and not your crew.”
“Fifteen men,” the captain shouted.
“That’s right,” Bahmad replied. “Do you have a problem with it?”
The captain looked away for a minute, obviously wrestling with his conscience. Bahmad found it amusing, especially considering the business Fernandez was in.
“I have no problem,” the captain finally said.
M/V Margo
Lazlo Schumatz slipped into the silent galley and waited a full minute in the darkness. The cook and his assistants were not usually down here at this hour of the night, though at sea some men got restless and wanted something to eat. But not tonight. He made his way across the dining area and through the kitchen to the pantry. He unlocked and opened dry storage locker A.
“I was starting to wonder how long you were going to leave me in here,” Green said angrily. He stormed out of the locker.
“If you hadn’t been so stupid you wouldn’t have been caught.” Schumatz handed him a 9mm Glock pistol. “It’s just about time.”
“Did you make contact?” Green demanded. He followed Schumatz out of the galley and aft.
“A few hours ago.” Schumatz opened the steel outer door to the port rail and checked the after deck. Sometimes crewmen came back here to smoke. But the deck was deserted now. “I think that we’re going to do the entire crew tonight.”
“The captain’s mine,” Green shot back. He had been nursing an anger against Panagiotopolous ever since the storm in the Arabian Sea.
Schumatz nodded. They were going to be using the new navigational equipment installed during the layover sooner than he’d expected. But killing the crew now would simplify matters. They wouldn’t have to try to hide Guthrie for two days.
They went out on deck. Green opened the rail gate and secured it as Schumatz unlashed the boarding ladder, opened the control box and activated the small motor that lowered it.
Aphrodite
The Aphrodite pulled alongside the Margo’s port quarter. Captain Fernandez matched speeds and timed the approach so perfectly that Mendoza, waiting on the bow had no trouble grabbing the boarding ladder skimming just off the surface of the water. He tied them off.
Morales took over the controls.
“Keep it steady, we won’t be long,” the captain shouted to him.
“What if there’s trouble?”
“There won’t be. Sonofabitch, don’t take off with my boat and leave me behind.”
“Don’t worry, I haven’t been paid yet,” Morales said.
Fernandez grinned and slapped him on the shoulder. “There’ll be plenty for all of us, amigo. Even enough for you to buy your Ferrari.”
M/V Margo
Bahmad, his MAC 10 drawn and at the ready, was first up the ladder. Schumatz and Green were waiting for him. They’d never met each other, but Bahmad recognized them from their dossiers. At first they were uncertain, but then Bahmad lowered his weapon. “So good of you to invite me aboard, gentlemen.”
Schumatz guffawed and Green chuckled.
“May I presume that there have been no further problems?” Bahmad asked.
“Everything’s quiet now,” Schumatz assured him. “I just released Joseph from the lockup five minutes ago. The captain is in his cabin, and I convinced him not to call the company until later this morning, so we still have a few hours.”
“Very good.” Bahmad waved Fernandez and Mendoza waiting below to come up. “Who is presently on the bridge?”
“Second Officer Gunn and an AB,” Green said.
“That leaves twelve other crew.”
“There’s two in the engine room. Everybody else is in their rooms asleep or watching television. The next watch isn’t scheduled until six.”
Fernandez and Mendoza appeared at the head of the ladder and came aboard. Bahmad introduced them by first names only. They didn’t shake hands, but they all looked at each other nervously.
“What’s the plan?” Schumatz asked.
Bahmad had worked out this operation in precise detail, as he did all his operations. Leave nothing for chance, he’d always maintained, yet be ready for any contingency.
“If the captain were to call a meeting in the galley would everybody show up? Even the on-duty crew?”
“Of course,” Schumatz replied.
“Take our two friends to the galley, turn on the lights and then hide yourselves,” he told Green. “Stay out of sight unless the situation falls apart. I don’t want the crew getting spooked seeing the three of you charging in with guns drawn.” .
“What about the captain?” Green asked.
“Lazlo and I will fetch him.”
“Let’s do it,” Fernandez said. He wanted to get this business over with and be gone.
They all went inside. Green and the two drug runners went forward to the galley, while Bahmad and Schumatz took the stairs up eight decks to the captain’s quarters aft of the chart room and bridge. Except for the throbbing noise of the engines the ship was as still as a tomb compared to the speed boat. But it was nothing as quiet as it would be an hour from now, Bahmad thought.
So far the only real glitch had been in New York aboard Papa’s Fancy, but he had a hunch that even that was going to work out to his benefit in the end. Chevy Chase had already been forgotten, relegated to another section of his brain that was able to deal with failures by forgetting about them while at the same time learning from his mistakes. There would be no mistakes this time. He was sure of it.
Schumatz listened at the captain’s door for a couple of moments. He looked up and shook his head.
“If he cries out will they hear it on the bridge?” Bahmad whispered.
“No.”
Bahmad motioned for him to do it, and Schumatz knocked on the door.
“Captain, I have to talk to you. We have a problem.” Schumatz tried the door but it was locked. “Captain?”
“Just a minute,” Panagiotopolous said impatiently.
Bahmad stepped to the side. Schumatz held the pistol out of sight behind his right leg. The door came open and the captain was there, fully dressed, Green’s pistol in his hand.
“What’s this?” Schumatz stepped back in surprise, almost stumbling over his own feet.
Sensing that something was wrong, Panagiotopolous started to turn, but he was too late. Bahmad diverted the captain’s gun with his left hand and jammed the barrel of the MAC 10 into the man’s face.
“Your death at this moment would be pointless, Captain,” Bahmad warned in a reasonable tone.
The captain tried to raise his pistol, but Bahmad tightened his grip and jammed the submachine gun harder against the man’s cheek.
“I will kill you.”
Panagiotopolous held himself in check for another second or two, but then came down. Bahmad took the pistol from his hand, thumbed the safety catch on and stuffed it in the belt of his slacks at the small of his back.
“What the hell, Lazlo. I trusted you.”
Schumatz shook his head. “This has nothing to do with you.”
“Who the hell is this bastard then, and what is he doing aboard my ship?”
“All in good time,” Bahmad said. “First we’re going to assemble the crew and I’ll make everything clear. But I want to assure you that we mean you absolutely no harm. If you cooperate this will all be over with by morning.”
“Is Gre
en one of yours too?”
“Yes. He’s a little hotheaded, I’m afraid. But he will be reprimanded.” Bahmad stepped aside and motioned for the captain to precede him. “I think the galley will do nicely for our meeting.”
“I knew that something was wrong,” the captain muttered. He led them to the end of the corridor and downstairs.
The lights were on in the galley dining room, otherwise it was deserted. Green and the others had to be hiding in the kitchen. There were four metal picnic-style tables attached to the deck, plus the head table for the officers. Bahmad sat down next to the captain at the head table and concealed his gun between them. The ship’s interphone was on the bulkhead behind them.
“I would like you to call the crew now. That includes Mr. Gunn and the second man on the the bridge, the two in the engine room and the other ten who are off duty. I don’t care what you tell them, but if you try to issue any kind of a warning I will kill you instantly, then we will hunt the rest of them down and kill them, after which we will sink this ship. On the other hand if you follow my instructions to the letter we’ll simply lock you and your crew up, take what we have come for, which is only one very small package, and then leave.”
“How will we free ourselves?”
“I’ve brought plastic explosives. We’ll place a small charge on the door lock with a timer set for eight this morning. It will give us plenty of time to make our escape.” Bahmad smiled sincerely. “Believe me, Captain, I don’t want to kill anybody. There’d be no advantage in it for me.”
Something dawned in the captain’s eyes. “The helicopter is yours?”
“That’s right,” Bahmad said, “Mr. Green will be our pilot. All very neat, all very simple if you will cooperate.”
The captain turned to Schumatz who had stuffed his pistol in his pants pocket and stood by the door. “Lazlo?”
“It’s just like he says, Captain. Nobody’s going to get hurt.”
Panagiotopolous shook his head again as if he couldn’t believe what was happening, but then reached back for the telephone and entered a three-digit number. “Attention all hands,” his voice boomed throughout the ship. “Attention all hands, this is the captain. I want to see everybody in the galley on the double. That includes the bridge and engineering duty crews.” He looked at Bahmad, and repeated the announcement. When he was finished he released the talk switch and hung up the phone. “Where’s Green?”
“He’ll be here in a minute,” Schumatz said.
The phone buzzed and Panagiotopolous picked it up before Bahmad could stop him. “This is the captain.”
Bahmad prodded him in the side with the gun.
“If there’s no traffic within our twenty-five kilometer ring leave us on autopilot, make sure the alarm is set and the both of you get down here. Now.”
The captain replaced the phone.
“Your bridge officer?”
“Yes. He’s a conscientious man. He’ll be along shortly.”
“Then we’ll wait.”
Panagiotopolous gave Schumatz another baleful look. “You had this planned from the start, didn’t you? Was it in Karachi, or was it even earlier than that?”
“That doesn’t matter—”
“Goddammit, I want to know. If it started in Karachi then the company is involved.”
“The company is not involved,” Bahmad said. “But even if it was, it would make no difference.”
“Yes it would,” Panagiotopolous said. He suddenly looked old and tired. “It would to me.”
The first of the crewmen showed up a minute later. “What’s up, Mr. Schumatz?” he asked. He eyed Bahmad seated with the captain.
“Sit down, the captain wants to tell us something,” Schumatz told him, and the crewman took a seat as others drifted in. Some of them were in bathrobes and had obviously been sleeping, while others were fully dressed and looked wide awake. The two from the engine room, their white coveralls dirty, came in, followed by Gunn and the able bodied seaman from the bridge.
“That’s the lot,” Schumatz said, closing the door.
The fourteen men assembled were curious, but none of them seemed alarmed or in the least bit suspicious until Bahmad prodded the captain to his feet with the MAC 10.
Several of them jumped up.
“Sit down or I shall kill your captain,” Bahmad warned. The first few seconds of these kinds of situations were always the most dicey. Anything could happen if the crew acted in concert.
Some of the men turned in desperation to Schumatz who had pulled out his pistol. But he pointed his gun at them.
“Do as he says, gentlemen,” Schumatz shouted. “Sit down! Now!”
Now they were confused, some of them frightened, others sullen, obviously looking for a way out. But they had lost the moment when they could have done something, and Bahmad smiled inwardly at this little triumph. In general people were like cattle.
“My name is not important,” Bahmad said. “But with the help of Mr. Green and Mr. Schumatz I am taking over this ship for the next eight hours. We’re going to lock you in the pantry dry storage area while we conduct our business. When we are finished you will be released unharmed. I give you my word. The last thing we want or need is a bunch of injured men. It’s not why I’m here.” Bahmad looked at them. There were a couple of men who were obviously potential troublemakers, but it was too late for them to put up any effective resistance, and he could see in their eyes that they were just realizing that fact now.
“At least stop the ship before you leave,” the captain told Bahmad. “I don’t want to run into anything.”
“As you wish,” Bahmad said. “You’ll be a little cramped, I’m afraid, but it shouldn’t be too bad for a few hours.”
“Who the fuck are you trying to bullshit?” one of the crewmen demanded angrily. “You’re going to kill us all.”
“Why would we do such a thing?”
“You don’t want any witnesses.”
Bahmad smiled faintly. “If that were the case we would have killed those of you who were sleeping in your beds and taken the bridge and engine room first. It certainly would be a lot less messy than calling you all down here and shooting you dead.”
The crewman had no answer for that and he said no more, but he was suspicious.
“On your feet, please,” Bahmad instructed. They did as they were told with a lot of hesitation. But there was no leader among them and they didn’t know where to turn or what to do. “I would like you to follow Mr. Schumatz, in single file please, to the dry storage locker. If anyone decides to try something, I will shoot the captain first and then turn my gun on you.”
No one said a thing.
“Very well,” Bahmad said. He nodded to Schumatz who walked into the kitchen and through to the pantry where he opened the heavy door into the large walk-in locker, then stepped aside, his pistol at the ready.
“What’s this all about, Mr. Schumatz?” one of the younger crewmen asked. “Is it drugs?”
“You’ll read all about it in the newspapers in a few days, Rudi,” Schumatz said. “Now inside with you so nobody has to get their ass shot off.”
“Well, I hope you rot in hell, you dirty prick,” Rudi Gunn said, and he walked into the storage locker.
The captain was the last in and he turned to face Bahmad. “Eight hours?”
“Or less,” Bahmad assured him. He motioned to Schumatz who swung the door shut, the lock dropping into place with a loud snap.
Bahmad turned around. “Joseph,” he called.
Green, Fernandez and Mendoza came around the corner from the other side of the kitchen. Green’s face was animated with excitement. “That was goddammed smooth,” he said. He held his pistol in both hands, and he kept looking at the locker door. “Are we going to kill them now?”
“First things first. I want you to go up to the bridge and stay there for the time being. I’m going to have Lazlo stop the ship, but I want you to make sure that the autopilot is set and that we’re
on course, and make sure that no one has been trying to reach us by radio. From this point on we have to be on the watch for the U.S. Coast Guard.”
“But I want—”
“I know, Joseph, but for now I need you on the bridge,” Bahmad said soothingly. “Your time will come.”
Green backed up and looked at the others, but then his head bobbed. “Okay, but when the time comes I want Panagiotopolous.” He turned and left.
“I’ll tend to the engines,” Schumatz said.
“Give us an hour and then come up to the bridge, please.”
Schumatz glanced at the locker door then left.
“Why are you stopping the ship?” Fernandez asked suspiciously. He was jumpy.
“We’re going to set some explosives and sink her here.” Fernandez’s eyes strayed to the locker door. “You’re going to let them drown, huh?”
Bahmad shook his head. “Either finish the job, or walk away right now and we’ll call it even.”
Fernandez and Mendoza exchanged a look and Mendoza nodded. “I say kill them now.”
“Si,” Fernandez said with some hestitation. He pulled the MAC 10’s top-mounted bolt and he and Mendoza stepped apart directly in front of the locker door. When they were ready he nodded.
Bahmad unlatched the door, pulled it open and quickly got out of the way. Someone inside shouted something in desperation, but Fernandez and Mendoza opened fire, unloading their thirty-round magazines in a couple of seconds, immediately reloading and firing again.
The noise hammered off the steel bulkheads. Spent shells skittered hollowly like metal popcorn across the deck. And finally the screams and cries of the Margo’s crew subsided until Fernandez stopped shooting and stepped back.
“Madre de Dios,” he said softly, and he crossed himself.
Everyone in the storage locker was down. Blood was splashed everywhere; on the overhead, the walls and boxes on the shelves, and lay in thick pools on the floor.
“Make sure that they’re all dead,” Bahmad said.
“You do it,” Fernandez answered in disgust.
“Finish the job, Captain. It’s what you were hired for.”
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