by Matt Lincoln
“Well, there were conflicting reports, to begin with,” Vitale replied as he folded his hands together on top of his desk. “Several of the men had some inconsistencies in their reports of what had happened, who had fired, where the weapons had come from. That, of course, was the really pressing question in the end. Where did an ordinary crew on board an ordinary cargo ship obtain weapons capable of defending against the kind of attack that the pirates were launching? As I’m sure you know, it wasn’t quite adding up.”
“We have reason to believe that the men on board the cargo ship might themselves be engaged in illegal activities.” Marston nodded before leaning forward in his seat. “All the information we currently have on the pirates seemed to indicate that they’ve deliberately been going after vessels in an attempt to crush opposing drug-smuggling groups.”
“Yes, I spoke with your director about that possibility,” Vitale replied. “When I heard that there was suspicion that the crewmen themselves might be up to something, suddenly things began to click into place. It made a lot more sense now how they could defend themselves against the pirates.”
“How did they, exactly?” Charlie asked. “The last time the pirates attacked, they came armed with rocket launchers. It’s pretty impressive that the crewmen managed to fight them off.”
“I thought the same,” Vitale replied as he raised an eyebrow skeptically. “Unfortunately, the details of what exactly happened are still a bit unclear. Even though we have a lot of footage of the incident, all of it was taken by bystanders on land. The attack itself took place on the water, quite far from the shore. Even though the bystanders' recordings managed to capture images of explosions, it’s difficult to tell just who is firing at who. Then there’s the matter of the missing weapons.”
“What do you mean ‘missing?’” Marston asked warily as he looked up at Vitale.
“I mean that the police were unable to recover any weapons from the cargo ship,” he replied flatly. “I’m sure you will understand just how strange that is. It’s obvious that they fought the pirates off with something. They sent their ship down, for goodness’ sake! And yet, we found only two small handguns.”
“That’s incredibly suspicious,” Holm scoffed in disbelief as he crossed his arms over his chest.
“Of course it is,” Vital replied. “And that’s where the conflicting stories started to come in. Some said that the weapons were all lost in the scuffle, dropped to the bottom of the ocean. As if anyone would believe that. Others claimed that they never had any weapons at all and only took some from the pirates to defend themselves. How they might have managed to do that, I have no idea.”
“Sounds like a lot of covering their own asses,” Charlie grunted. “And doing a remarkably bad job of it.”
“Indeed.” Vitale nodded slowly. “Honestly, even if I hadn’t received that call informing me that the men were likely smugglers as well, I would have been extremely suspicious of the circumstances behind the incident.”
“Where are the crewmen now?” Marston asked.
“Still on the boat, actually,” Vitale replied as he leaned over to pluck a notepad and a pen from his desk. “Aside from a few who received injuries during the attack, they were all informed to stay on the ship while some things were sorted out with the investigation.”
“I bet they’re really happy about that,” Marston remarked sarcastically.
“They’re not pleased,” Vitale confirmed as he scribbled something onto the notepad. “In fact, they’re getting extremely antsy about it, demanding to know when they’ll be let go. Honestly, if they start to push, we won’t be able to keep them. Under Italian law, they can’t be detained if they are not under arrest. The moment they realize that, it’s likely they will flee.”
“We’ll head right over there then,” Marston replied.
“Good.” Vitale nodded firmly. “The sooner you do, the better. Let me just call Officer Russo in here. She’ll be accompanying you for your time in Italy.”
He picked a phone up off his desk and said something in Italian to whoever answered before setting the phone down again.
“She’ll be here in just a moment,” Vitale assured them with a smile. “She’s been informed of all the pertinent details of the case already. Oh, and this.” He tore the sheet of paper off the top of the notepad. “Here is the address of the marina where the ship is currently docked.”
“Thanks,” Marston replied as he took the paper from the man.
Just a few seconds later, there was a knock at the door.
“Come in,” Vitale called in response. The door creaked open, and a moment later, a tall, svelte woman with piercing green eyes and wavy, dirty blond hair stepped into the office.
“Captain,” she greeted Vitale with a short nod of acknowledgment.
“Officer Russo, these are the agents you will be working with on the pirate case,” Vitale said as he gestured toward the agents, who all stood up to greet her. “Agents, this is Officer Gabriella Russo.”
They went through the motions of introducing themselves one by one, stating their names and shaking the officer’s hand. Charlie noticed that Marston’s hand seemed to linger for just a few seconds longer than what seemed strictly appropriate. Was this guy trying to hit on their liaison?
“We should go now,” Russo declared once the introductions were over and done with. “I’m sure the captain has informed you that time is of the essence. It’s important that we go speak to the crewmen before they decide they’ve waited long enough.”
“Let’s go,” Marston agreed immediately before turning back to look at Captain Vitale. “Thank you for your cooperation.”
“Of course!” Vitale exclaimed with a smile. “It’s my pleasure. I have no wish to see these kinds of things going on in my country. Officer Russo, report back to me as soon as you learn something.”
“Of course,” she replied before turning around to lead the way out of the office.
Finally, Charlie thought to himself, Time to get down to business.
16
Ethan
The Port of Naples, where the cargo ship was currently docked, was stunning. Far removed from the beautiful, colorful buildings in the city center, the dockyard was far more gray and industrialized. Nevertheless, the water glimmering against the cold steel and concrete of the port stretched impossibly far into the distance, the vast wash of blue only occasionally interrupted by a passing ship.
There was also a giant castle in the middle of the port.
Castel Nuovo was an unexpected sight among the shipyard’s otherwise flat and modern lines, made of gray stone and complete with towers and battlements.
“It was constructed in the Middle Ages,” Agent Chapman rambled enthusiastically as we walked by the massive structure. “It’s kind of astonishing when you think about it. I mean, this thing has been around since twelve-seventy-nine. That’s the better part of a millennium. It’s rare to find single artifacts from that time, let alone an entire castle, and in such good condition.”
“That is pretty cool, actually,” I replied vaguely as I looked up at the castle. Eight hundred years old… I couldn’t imagine it. That was almost three times as old as the Rogue, which was already an antique in its own right.
“Right?” Chapman beamed. “Especially since it was the home of a lot of kings. Castles that important tend to get attacked and raided pretty frequently. This one managed to survive, though. It’s a museum now. We should check out the inside later if we have time.”
“How do we keep finding castles?” Hills grumbled under his breath in response.
I wanted to ask him what he meant, but Officer Russo spoke before I could.
“Remember, we need to keep our intentions hidden,” she instructed as we walked slowly toward the end of the dock where the ship was. I could see it from here. It looked like an ordinary cargo vessel, still loaded down with shipping containers even. The only things that set it apart from the rest of the ships were the scorch marks and mangled s
pots of damage all along the side of it. “We aren’t technically allowed to hold them without cause. Currently, we do not have enough to prove anything against them. The only reason they are still here, to be honest, is because we have been making some very strong suggestions, and they have not yet tried to refuse. We will have to let them leave if they do, so make sure you pretend like we are just here to find the men who attacked them. Do not give away that our intentions are to investigate them as well.”
“Got it,” I replied simply. Normally, I might have been annoyed at being told something so obvious, but I could tell she wasn’t trying to be contemptuous. Her brows knitted together in concern, and there was an earnestness in her voice as she relayed her warning that I knew she was only trying to make sure we were all on the same page.
Plus, she was very, very attractive.
She was tall, almost as tall as I was, with a slender, curvy body and long wavy hair loose around her shoulders. She wore a light blue short-sleeve shirt and dark pants that hugged her long legs. Her eyes, too, commanded attention. I’d noticed them immediately the moment she’d stepped into Vitale’s office. They were wide, light green, and flecked with brown. She walked with purpose, her head held high and her shoulders straight. Her hips swayed slightly as she strode forward ahead of us with determination, and I had to force myself to focus on the task at hand.
“Okay,” she breathed as she came to a stop just outside the boat where a few other officers were standing. “Before we go in, how many of you speak Italian? Do any of you?”
We all turned to look at Chapman, who went red at once.
“I-I mean, I kind of do,” he stuttered awkwardly. “More than anyone else, but still not really.”
“Okay.” She bit her lip in thought. “That is fine. I will translate, then. I guess that will make it easier for us not to give ourselves away if no one else is talking…”
She trailed off as she spoke that last sentence, and I understood at once what Hills and Chapman had been talking about earlier regarding difficulties when it came to not speaking the native language. Russo had suddenly sounded a bit nervous at the thought that she’d have to do basically all the talking. It was also worrying when I thought about it. There was always the possibility that things could get lost in translation, and I didn’t like the idea that we might miss some important detail or nuance because Russo accidentally translated something inefficiently.
Regardless, we would just have to make it work.
Russo spoke briefly to the officers on watch before stepping away from them and gesturing for us to follow her up onto the boat. We climbed the long stairway leading up to the deck. We’d barely made it up onto the boat when a man approached us, walking aggressively.
“Finalmente!” the man yelled, throwing his hands up in the air in frustration. “Possiamo andare no? Siamo qui da giorni!”
“Calmati,” Russo replied calmly, which only seemed to aggravate the man further. His face turned red, and he balled his hands into fists, his shoulders shaking with barely contained rage.
A few men had come out of a door leading into the bridge, likely at the sound of the man’s yelling. They watched the exchange curiously. Some of them looked angry, like the man. Others, though, looked nervous as their eyes roved over the group of us gathered on the deck of the boat. One of them made eye contact with me for just a second before flinching and quickly scurrying away.
The man began to yell again, waving his arms around dramatically as spittle flew from his mouth.
I clenched my jaw at the ridiculous behavior. Russo had told me to stay calm and let her do the talking, but the man looked like he was about to pounce at any moment. I wasn’t about to stand by and just let him attack.
“Smettila!” a different voice called suddenly from the direction of the gathered crowd. The men standing around the side of the bridge parted to allow someone to pass through. Judging by the uniform he was wearing, he must be the captain.
I watched carefully as he approached. As of right now, we weren’t sure who among the crew was a smuggler. In my opinion, it would have been almost impossible for any of them to have pulled off any kind of illegal trafficking scheme without the captain knowing about it, which meant that he was currently our greatest suspect.
He came to a stop in front of us and asked the angry man something. The man started to yell again, pointing at us accusingly. Russo then joined in, and for a few moments, the three of them had a heated discussion.
It occurred to me then that Holm and I had never been in quite this type of situation. We’d encountered other languages, sure, but seldom, if ever, had we suddenly found ourselves completely unable to understand what was going on.
It sucked.
“My apologies.” The captain suddenly turned to us. I was surprised to hear him address us in English but relieved, nevertheless. “I’m Captain Danesi. My crew is just a little tired. We have been here for two days now, you understand. They are eager to get back home to their families.”
He shot a pointed look at Russo, who just stared back at him, completely unfazed.
“Well, we’d certainly like to see that happen, too,” I lied. “Is there maybe somewhere we could talk? Get this all sorted out so we can all get where we need to be?”
“Of course,” he replied. “We can speak in my quarters. This way.”
He led us through the throng of men toward the door leading onto the bridge. More men were sitting in the hallway just inside the door. Like the ones who had peeked outside, I noticed that all of them reacted to us either with contempt or fear. The first emotion was one I could understand from anyone. I’d probably be pretty upset if I was attacked by pirates and then suddenly held against my will on a ship. The source of their fear was a little more difficult to place. Unless, of course, they had something to feel guilty over. If I was a drug smuggler, I’d probably get a little nervous at seeing a bunch of federal agents suddenly board the boat I was using to conduct criminal activity.
We followed the captain up a flight of stairs and down several winding and twisting paths. As we walked, I made sure to focus on our surroundings and make a mental note of the way back out. It would be pretty easy to get lost inside this maze of utility corridors, and that was one of the last things we wanted to happen while we were on board a ship swarming with potential enemies.
“I would be extremely happy if we could settle everything quickly,” the captain grumbled as he led us into his quarters. It was a simple accommodation, which was normal on sea vessels where space was scarce, and maximizing efficiency was important. It reminded me a little of the rooms Holm and I used to bunk in back when we were in the SEALS. Of course, since he was the captain, he had the luxury of having the room all to himself, rather than having to share with six other grown men, all crammed together on tightly stacked bunk beds.
“Of course,” Russo replied calmly as we all piled awkwardly into the room. There was only a single bed and chair in the captain’s quarters, so there wasn’t any place for us to sit as we spoke. “We understand how frustrating it has been—”
“Do you?” Denasi interrupted her suddenly, his voice harsh. “My men were victims of a violent attack! They are tired and eager to get back home after the ordeal they have been through, and instead, they are being treated like criminals!”
“That’s why we are here,” Russo replied, her voice calm and level even in the face of the man’s outburst. “The sooner we get everything cleared up, the sooner you can leave.”
“What else is there to know?” Denasi scoffed as he crossed his arms petulantly. “We have spoken to the police, time and time again. We have explained exactly what happened, and yet we are still being held here against our will!”
“We’re not the police,” I interjected. The topic of the conversation was drifting into dangerous territory. I needed to get him off the subject of being held here unlawfully before he demanded to leave.
My words seemed to work, possibly a little too w
ell, because Denasi immediately clamped his mouth shut and turned a few shades paler.
“We’re federal agents,” I informed him as I pulled my badge out of my pocket to prove it. “We’re here because we believe the group that attacked you is part of an international piracy group. It’s really important that we get all the information about what happened first-hand. I know you already spoke to the police here, but I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to explain again.”
“I-I see,” the captain stammered. It seemed that just finding out we were something more than just the regular police was enough to cow him into nervous silence. Seeing the way he was reacting now, there was no doubt in my mind that Danieli was involved in whatever was amiss here. “Well, I suppose that is alright, then, as long as it means getting myself and my men home faster. What did you want to know?”
“Let’s start with the pirates,” I replied as I leaned casually against the wall of the room. “Did you notice anything peculiar about them? The language they were speaking, maybe? Or any distinguishing features?”
“Well… not really,” Danieli replied awkwardly. “They were yelling and shouting, but, uh, I couldn’t make out exactly what they were saying, and it all happened so quickly.”
“Of course,” I replied as I studied his body language.
His arms were still crossed over his chest defensively, and he was shifting unconsciously from one foot to the other, so slowly and subtly that he probably didn’t even notice he was doing it. His response had been odd, too, as though he was thinking hard about the best way to respond without giving a concrete answer.
“I can understand that it might be difficult to keep track of what’s going on in the heat of the moment,” I continued. “It was quite impressive, though, how you managed to fight them off. How did you do that, exactly?”
I made sure to keep my voice light and cheerful as I spoke, as though I was recounting a funny story with an old friend. I wanted answers, but like Russo had said, I didn’t want him catching on too quickly and shutting down.
