by Noah Waters
Casey called out, “Grab hold.”
Letting go of the single-stranded rope long enough to grip the hand of safety took all the courage she could muster. Noah grasped Casey’s arm and took another step.
The crew of the Calla Lily had awakened; the lights on board came to life.
“Hurry up, they know we’re here,” Casey said. As Noah hung onto his arm, the Jacob’s ladder collapsed into the bottomless sea.
“Help me pull up,” Casey directed Noah—using all his strength.
She could feel herself slowly slipping as her glove started losing grip. Desperation could be seen in his eyes. It was a desperation Noah knew she must respond to. The thunder roared.
Chapter XXVII
“MOVE!” CASEY’S VOICE ECHOED IN BETWEEN THE THUNDER CLASHING. THE remaining rope fray could be seen in the lightning flashes as the storm intensified. Noah could feel the strong pull of his arms as he leaned backward.
“You’re almost there.”
The fear mixed with cold rain provided a numbness throughout her body. One strong heave finally flung Noah’s body aboard the open deck. A few threads dangled in place where the Jacob’s ladder had been. The sudden striking of her body against the steel deck could be felt up her spine.
“They know we are here. Get up!” Casey yelled.
Springing quickly to upright, Noah repositioned her weaponry. The bridge lights intensified as Captain Achilles and First Mate, Olga Heinrich, quickly put security procedures in place.
“Looks like Americans,” Olga remarked in surprise.
“A surprise boarding perhaps?” Captain Achilles questioned, “Why?”
The captain and Olga proceeded immediately down the winding stairwell to the main deck.
“Advise all security crew members to hold fire.” Olga repeated the orders over the handheld radio.
Noah tapped Casey on the shoulder as she leaned in and whispered, “Here comes the captain.”
Meanwhile crew members slowly gathered around the two strangers on board the Calla Lily.
“United States Coast Guard,” Noah stated while thinking to herself that particular statement should not be necessary for it was hard to miss the bright orange float coat that declared that fact.
“I can see and read you know,” Captain Achilles responded back. “My question is, ‘What exactly are you doing boarding us under such conditions?’ ”
Casey stepping forward with a right hand extended, “Hello, Captain, sir. I’m Casey Maxwell and this is Officer Noah Waters. Sir, we request permission for a head count, a bill of lading check and a search of the bridge along with the engine departments.”
“And if I refuse?” Captain Achilles questioned purely out of curiosity. Olga’s eyebrows went up for she had never seen anyone refuse a Coast Guard order before.
“Then, sir,” Noah responded, “we will notify the Port Authority the Calla Lily won’t be arriving as scheduled. Then you leave me no choice.”
The captain’s face now expressed a look of cooperation.
“It shouldn’t take long,” Noah’s voice attempted to be calming and reassuring, yet she shook as the cold rain continued to pound the decks.
“I’m not sure if you two aren’t fools,” Achilles suggested, “boarding in such extreme weather conditions. Nonetheless let’s get out of this weather before you die of pneumonia and they think I killed you—quickly, up to the bridge for something hot to drink. Olga, please have all security return to normal stance,” Achilles ordered.
Noah could feel the queasiness in her stomach as the ship steadily rocked. Extremely weak from the recent surge of physical strength, she was left with an unsteady gait. As they proceeded up the stairwell, the climb was exhausting. At the bridge quarters, Olga handed Noah and Casey towels to dry with a cup of hot tea. “Thank you,” Casey quickly replied.
“So how can we help you?” Olga questioned. “We provided all the documentation ahead of time as required.”
“Yes, ma’am, we received that. We request permission to do a physical inspection, and we would like to start with the crew.”
“Ah, the crew, of course.”
The trembling of Abdi’s hands now was uncontrollable. He quickly fastened the buttons one by one as the calling for “all hands on deck” through the intercom system was repeated. Panic caused an internal tightening of his gut—with regular episodes of violent nausea. The rash now appeared as black spots of varying sizes covering his entire body. His attempts to steady his hands failed as the fire inside him raged. Using a small cloth, Abdi attempted to wipe the perspiration from his face. The fatigue caused his legs to tremble and he experienced shortness of breath with the slightest physical exertion. Time was running out. The sickness moved rapidly throughout his body. I am prepared, and Allah will see me through, Abdi thought to himself. Reaching down to pick up the wallet Marcel had given him, he quickly ensured the maritime license was ready for inspection. This would be his next critical step. The footsteps outside his door could be heard rapidly ascending the stairs to the upper deck as crew members moved into position.
Captain Achilles, Olga, Casey, and Noah proceeded from the bridge to the upper deck. “You will need this list,” Olga reached out and handed it to Noah. Noah’s copy had been provided by ICC. A comparison between the two would be her next step.
“Thank you, Olga,” Noah replied.
As they walked, Casey and Achilles discussed how the Calla Lily would travel through the channel up to Sacramento. Finally reaching the portal door, the group stepped out onto the open deck with numerous colored containers. The bright oranges, deep blues, and gray-toned boxes of all shapes and sizes were stacked up like dominoes. The captain, noticing Noah’s view of the cargo, quickly spoke up.
“These containers are from all over the world. Each container can start at one point for its departure and be transported by rail or truck to over six or seven other destinations for loading along the way before it ever reaches the ship for final destination.”
“My God, possibilities for security breeches,” Noah replied. “Do you realize how many opportunities there are for interception during that time frame?”
Captain Achilles leaned backward placing his hands on his hips, “Indeed, the security concerns of container operations are vast. I suppose their being truly secured is a long time off.”
The scrambling of the deckhands into a single line formation in front of Captain Achilles had now taken place.
Casey turned toward the captain, “Sir, can you give us an approximate time of port arrival?”
The captain turned toward Casey and responded with certainty, “Less than an hour.”
Noah’s pencil quickly counted the number of names on Olga’s list against the number of names on the intelligence report. The numbers did not match. Noah’s first thought was she had miscounted.
“Is this everyone?” she questioned.
“Yes, I believe so,” the captain replied. The crew members’ turnover rate is high in the maritime world. It is a common occurrence that crews come and go without the captain or the first mate actually ever coming face-to-face with each individual member.
These thoughts rumbled around inside Noah’s head as she recounted the list for a third time. Noah wondered if the first mate or the captain really knew if everyone was here or not.
The rain fell at a much slower pace as the storm had begun to ease. The ink on the paper spread as the inspection continued. The count should be 23 Noah told Casey.
“Please present your mariner’s license,” Casey instructed as the crew members stood in a single line.
Abdi used every ounce of strength he had to attempt to control his shaking while he stood upright. The cold rain was painful as it struck his flaming skin. He was thankful the rain could not be distinguished from the perspiration that now drenched his entire body. His dark complexion made it harder to see the growing number of dark circles across his body.
Casey walked the single line inspecting each individual�
��s license. Abdi stared out across the vast sea as his mind raced. What will they do with Marcel? What will Marcel say? He has no mariner’s license. Will they throw him in prison? Will they shoot him? The questions were never ending.
The Americans would come to Abdi before they got to Marcel for Marcel had taken his place at the end of the line. Abdi feared deeply for his companion. The intimidating federal marshals were close at hand. Abdi would say little or nothing at all.
“Mariner’s license,” Casey ordered. Abdi did not realize he had lowered his card because of the lack of his strength. As Abdi lifted the card, his hand trembled along the way. Casey noticed how unstable he was.
“Are you that cold?” questioned Casey.
“Yes,” he replied.
Taking the mariner’s license from Abdi’s hand, Casey checked the name off the list. “The photo on this license needs to be retaken. I’m concerned about the authenticity of this license.”
Olga stepped forward. “Each license was checked prior to their boarding,” she quickly interrupted. “They have been verified through the country of issue.”
“Nevertheless, we will need to make note of this particular crew member to get a corrected version as soon as possible. You need to get out of this cold,” Casey stated as he returned the license to Abdi. Noah checked the name off the intelligence report.
Casey advanced a person at a time. “Mariner’s license.”
“I have none,” Marcel responded. Casey immediately went into a defensive mode.
“You have none?” he questioned.
“No.”
“How did you get aboard?”
“I boarded when the Calla Lily made a stop in the Port of Berbera.”
“Step forward.” Casey’s tone became authoritative. Noah laid her papers down and went into a protective stance with her hand on her weapon. “Put your hands on your head and prepare to be searched.” Marcel complied.
Noah keyed up her radio. “Team Alpha, Op Center, come in.” The base radio squealed and squawked with crackling tones. Gramps could be heard attempting to respond. “Op Center, we copy, go ahead with your transmission.”
“Be advised,” Noah spoke in a soft tone with the radio 2 inches from her lips, “we have identified one stowaway.”
Casey reached forward as he completed his pat down of Marcel.
“Identify yourself.”
“I am Marcel Asad.”
“Do you have any type of identification?” Casey questioned.
“No,” was the reply.
Noah repeated the information for the radio transmission. “Asad,” Noah repeated. “Arabic, which means the lion.” The lion she expressed to Casey.
“Were you aware of this stowaway?” Casey asked Captain Achilles.
“I was not aware he came aboard, no.”
“Op Center to Team One, go. We’ll run his name through the data banks. Detain according to procedures and notify Customs and Border Patrol.”
Casey turned his attention back to Marcel. “Turn around, put your hands behind your back. At this time, you are not under arrest, however, you are being detained for your own safety as well as ours.”
“What will happen to me?” Marcel questioned.
“You will be placed in the brig temporarily and turned over to the American Port Authority upon our arrival—where customs will decide your fate.
“Were you alone when you boarded the Calla Lily?” Noah asked.
“Yes.”
Noah’s mind still raced with questions. Why would Marcel board alone, and more important, what was his purpose? Noah wanted to know the answers, yet she knew that was customs’ job.
Noah wondered if Marcel was the threat they were looking for or was there something hidden inside these vast containers that they had missed. The clicking of the handcuffs secured Marcel. In Noah’s mind, he was too compliant. The rain started to increase.
“Are you finished with my crew?” Achilles questioned.
“Yes,” Casey responded.
“Crew dismissed. Return to your duties.” The crew members quickly dispersed.
Abdi wanted to say good-bye to Marcel, yet he felt even a quick glance in Marcel’s direction would be too risky. The cold drops of rain started rolling down his face causing chills to run up and down his spine. I must reach the latrine, he thought. I cannot fall here, as he disappeared through the portal.
“Op Center to Team One.” This time Casey answered.
“Go ahead.”
“We have no record of Marcel Asad. Customs will pick him up at the pier in San Francisco. Good job! Status of the stowaway?”
“We’re placing him in a temporary brig on the lower deck.”
“Op Center, copy, out.”
Captain Baker leaned forward in his chair as he intensely watched the intelligence system run through thousands of variations of the name Asad. Baker was aware the boarding team had been provided a negative response, but he wanted to double check one more time to be sure he had not missed anything. A stowaway, he thought to himself. A stowaway from the Port of Berbera. Berbera did not harbor stowaways on a regular basis. Baker’s mind raced with a myriad of thoughts on what the ultimate purpose of this stowaway could be. His years of experience told him he was missing something. He had no option but to wait until customs questioned Asad. He ran the containers and their cargo through his mind—quickly turning to the customs liaison, ordering a recheck on all the data pertaining to the containers’ contents. Intelligence would only be able to check the data submitted—his biggest fear was what had not been reported. A quick reality check brought home the fact that maybe, just maybe, he was wrong. Asad’s boarding could have been simply to enter the United States. His questions remained unanswered. His pacing increased.
Chapter XXVIII
THE SUDDEN STOP OF THE CALLA LILY MADE ABDI GRASP ON TO THE SIDE railing in the latrine. Losing his footing was not caused by speed, but weakness. The swirling red stream slowly disseminated into the bowl of clear toilet water. The excruciating pain crawled across his face as he strained to urinate while the internal hot fire seared with intensity. Blood encircled the water’s surface and dribbled onto the floor. The ticking of the second hand on his wristwatch echoed with each movement in his head. Black spots could now been seen reflecting in the metal toilet and even in the whites of his eyes. Spiral tiny dots filled his vision as the light faded to black.
The gangway plank slowly lowered to the port side as the deckhands quickly secured the railing. Noah and Casey stood on the upper deck and leaned over to get a clear picture of men in black exiting the long sedan.
“Must be customs,” Casey remarked. “I’ll go get Marcel.”
Noah leaned on the railing and thought Something’s not right with this picture. The detainee had not fought his apprehension in any way. It seemed to Noah as if his whole purpose was to get caught—but why? As she turned around all the containers stared at her directly in the face. “My God, what if we have missed the threat altogether?” Looking back over her shoulder, Noah knew it would be up to the customs agents to determine if Marcel was involved in a plot escorting some type of weapons through one of these containers or if he was a part of a cell. It was out of her hands at this point.
The rest of their job was to ensure the vessel made it safely to Sacramento. Traveling up the channel would be slow, but once they arrived, their mission would be complete. The boarding itself had been a challenge—she had almost lost her life. The weather and the angry seas had tested her skills to their fullest extent. Maybe her instincts were wrong—maybe her gut feeling was pure exhaustion.
Suddenly, Casey and Marcel appeared in the corner of her eye.
“Asad, the Lion,” Noah remarked again. “Is there anything else you would like to tell us?”
Noah’s and Marcel’s eyes met directly in total mistrust. His large brown pupils seemed to be hiding a deep dark secret. Noah saw no fear of capture in Marcel’s eyes. His icy attitude portrayed loyalty
to a mission—a mission Noah felt—that remained uninterrupted.
Casey tugged on Marcel’s arm and escorted him down the plank.
“That is the end of that,” Noah heard over her shoulders as Olga leaned in.
“I wish I could say I felt the same,” replied Noah.
“What do you mean?” Olga asked.
“Something tells me he knows more than we do and my guess is that information will die with him.”
Olga straightened up and departed in total silence.
The exchange of Marcel from the sea marshals’ control to the customs agents’ possession took only a matter of minutes. The black-glassed rear door shut with a thud as the customs agent secured Marcel and returned to the passenger side. The dark sedan disappeared as quickly as it had arrived.
Just as Casey reached the top of the plank, Captain Achilles gave the order to pull the plank in and to continue on to the Lily’s final destination.
“Hopefully the rest of the trip will be a smooth ride,” Casey’s voice seemed uncertain.
Noah keyed up the microphone, “Team One to Op Center.”
“Op Center, go ahead.”
“Transfer of detainee is complete.”
“Roger,” Gramps responded.
“We’ll pick you guys up in Sacramento.”
“Copy,” Noah responded.
Gramps slowly released the base radio button as Commander Dewey leaned in.
“Hopefully, that’s the end of that. I’m surprised it went so easy.”
“The trip’s not over yet,” Gramps reminded him.
“At this point it looks like the rainstorm is going to be receding. It’s hard to believe that all this was over a stowaway.”
“I don’t know,” Gramps stated in a questionable voice. “Sometimes things are not what they seem.”
“What do you mean by that?” Dewey quickly shot back.
“In my experience, until the crew’s back home and the ship has gone completely, there’s always the possibility of something.”
Back at the ICC, Baker shook his head in frustration. The cargo container report didn’t present any flags, yet his comfort zone was low. Did he miss something beside a stowaway? It was like looking for a needle in a haystack—an imaginary threat or gnawing problem he couldn’t put his finger on. Exhausted, he sat back down running his hands through his hair. “Damn it.”
