The Hacker Who Becomes a Mafia-Consultant in the Caribbean After a Diamond Coup in Bangkok

by Stieve Adams

spare wheel as quietly as we can and wait for the Omani to drive on.

  But they do not! They camp behind the hill and prepare the evening prayer and the evening meal. If we start the engine, they will hear us immediately. If someone walks in our way and does their needs, they will see us.

  "We're giving up at dawn," Radja decides. "Then we can get a head start before they can wake up. And when it's bright, we can drive at full speed to the limit."

  Return to an overnight stay in the jeep. Again, we take care for four hours. It starts to feel like in the military. Those who have the guard may sit with a view to the other camp to see if something is alarming. The two in the car must keep silent and definitely not kick in the plate or do anything that can give a noise.

  The night becomes stressful. The Omanians have a nice time at their campfire a few hundred yards away. We are terribly inconvenient behind the cliff. To sit or lie on the ground among bad stones is not nice. And we have to move very carefully, if we kick a stone they can hear it.

  And, of course, I'm kicking a stone that rolls a good bit. One of the Omanians insures his rifle and seems ready to find out what caused the turmoil. The other two seem to calm him and he secures the rifle and gets ready to sleep.

  When we see the first dawn to dawn, we hear that there are several cars on their way. Omanians have called for reinforcement, now it starts to become critical. When the reinforcement approaches the opposite, we carefully sneak away with our jeep. First, we carefully push it away in a small slope away from the Omanians. That's how we get another hundred yards away.

  Down in the sink, we start the engine carefully and try to sneak away. Careful with the clutch, no rush of the engine and we'll get away a few hundred meters before the Omani finds us.

  The girls who keep an eye on the rear window, listen to and point out that now it's only the nail in the bottom that applies. We are discovered and persecuted by five army pairs, who prefer nothing but killing us with their jets.

  Now Radja is driving, he runs wildly. We have safety belts on and hold us in straps and backrests. Fortunately, this ravine is crooked so there will be no free shooting range for our pursuers. It's just hoping there will be no puncture or the car rolls.

  We spend half an hour when Radja suddenly proclaims:

  "Now we are in the Emirates!"

  "Do you know the omani about it?" I am worried.

  They still persecute us. "Do we dare out on the open plain?"

  "We follow the mountains a bit until we find a good road leading Al Ain."

  Way? I have rarely seen anything as wise as this landscape.

  But Radja finds something that can be a camel or goat road. There is solid land and we are increasing our speed towards civilization. If now the Emirates are more civilized than Oman.

  Omanjeeparna follow us for a while but we are faster on solid ground. And we're probably in the Emirates. Even though we could not see the limit. Before we get up the road, Radja switches thoughtful signs so that we are emiratized again.

  When Radja goes to the left, I ask if Dubai is not on the right.

  "If anyone gets to research what we have done, I think it's better to have a good breakfast at Al Ain."

  No stupid idea actually. We had lived in dry stores for the last two days. It was not far to Al Ain so we drove there, thought and ate breakfast at McDonald's. A big Big Mac, a big French fries and a big Coca-Cola, pie and coffee. No stupid breakfast, actually.

  On our return to Dubai we were very well stopped by an emirate police escalator. Our jeep was alarming like the one who had driven out of Oman. The collegues in Oman had been cleared of course. But we had only been to Al Ain during the night, we said we were not omanias and our jeep was registered in the Emirates. The Emirates Police soon thought we could go on.

  29. Across the Atlantic

  "I want to buy a plot on St. Kitts," I say to Valerie.

  "We do not like brits buying land with us."

  "I have to go home," says Maria.

  "I also want to go home," says Valerie.

  "I also want to go home, but I have to go to Singapore and sell computers," I say.

  "You're still employed by us," says Maria. "I'm your employer and decide what to do!"

  "Hope, I did not think so."

  Some disclosure and paralysis had taken over the group. Our strife and failed results had made us out of control. We were back in Sharjah and tried to scratch my hotel room.

  "I'm giving up the contract and kidding for the rest," I tell Maria.

  "If you read the contract, then we decide when to stop." Maria is really angry. Valerie sores in a corner.

  "I'm going to bed," she says.

  "Do it, Him and I will read contracts". Maria is still angry.

  Maria is beautiful when she's angry. Dark and slim in his colorful dress.

  "Glad we are alone," she said with a secret voice. "Now is the time to look at the fine print."

  Woman. Just angry like a bee. Now return the nice, sweet, beautiful Maria. She has arguments. Some creepy, some persuasive, some confusing. I do not know how it happened, but suddenly we lay in the same bathtub and soak in each other while the lukewarm cold water showers over our limbs. She has a long and well-groomed body with small buddy breasts and a big black bush cake.

  When I get exhausted a few hours later I know that I fully agree with Maria about the interpretation of the contract. She has also talked about what to do tomorrow. When I try to reech the biscuit again, there is not there. She has gone into her room and Valerie and slept on.

  Now we know that there are at least four different groups looking for the lost treasure. Secondly, it's our own group that contains just me, Maria and Valerie. Secondly, there has been a Mexican bunk and a Bangkok gang. The skate has been expanded with a constellation led by Jens and Björn. We thought they would strengthen our group. But, quite easily, they feel that we are in a hurry and are not involved.

  I had yesterday declared that I wanted to jump off, but after being persuaded and after sleep, I think we should try to fool the others on the confection, so to speak.

  Jens undoubtedly has a big advantage. It was he who hid the treasure, probably in St. Kitts. The fact that he did not get it depends on the fact that he was afraid of the gangs from Mexico and Bangkok. It would be fun to know how he resonates now, what reinforcements, in addition to Björn, he can count on.

  We would also need reinforcements. Maria might be able to get support from her employer, the Mexican drug police. I was thinking about contacting my new friend, Sheikh Mohammed. Valerie might find some valuable supplements at St. Kitts.

  We decide that each and every one of us will try to find technical solutions and financing of our project. Valerie takes British Airways and flies home via London, Maria is flying Emirates' own airline, Emirates to Mexico for deliberations with their managers. Then, in her capacity as mullvad, she joins the foam mites from Mexico.

  I undertake to try to get along with Sheikh Mohammed as a financier in the project. I booked a visit to The shejk the same day. The case I stated was that I wanted to check out the delivery of computers. The shejk greeted me like an old friend and the reasoning about computer delivery went well. But when I began to ask about the shek, I might be interested in financing diamond exploration in the Caribbean, he became totally uninterested. Certainly, he seemed to recognize the project as such, but to somehow help us seemed out of order.

  Shejk Mohammed probably was well informed by Jens. And that I came to the shejk in this case, I soon understood that it was a mistake on my part. In all sorts of negotiations, one has to pay attention to the counterparty's reactions, so I left the subject immediately. But it did not seem that it would affect our relationship with computers and such. We agreed if this delivery was OK and I would like to come back with suggestions for short-term updates.

  Someday, I comforted myself with a big drink of freshly squeezed orange and a kebab on the beach to the creek in Sharjah. A Scottish whiskey was n
ot to be considered in this country.

  For the sake of simplicity, the sky is slightly cloudy. Creeks are easily gray-gray filled with dhow boats and abrams. The vast majority of the cargo vessels are still dhower of the same construction that has been here for hundreds of years. They operate the ports of the East and move all types of goods between countries and cities. Most often, they are dark brown wooden boats with different attachments depending on use. Nowadays they are equipped with powerful engines to make good speed. Because they are relatively small, no major port facilities are needed to add.

  The Dhows look well-behaved unlike many of the larger iron vessels. The climate and saltwater soon set traces in the form of rust. In the middle of the creek is a sports boat rushing with a white dress arab at the wheel.

  The smaller submarines are the creek's taxi that carries people back and forth across the water for half a dirham.

  A little farther away lies the deep harbor with oil cisterns and tankers. What looks like big floats, with four eifel tower-like masts that pop up, platforms for oil drilling. The platforms are towed to a suitable location in the golf, the masts are sent down to the bottom and instead become legs pushed into the bottom and the platform itself elevates a number of meters above the sea surface to not be affected by the waves. By breaking the steel structure of the legs, it reduces resistance to waves and ocean currents. A simple and efficient form of oil drilling in shallow water. Outside Scotland in the deep North