Pepe stared stone-faced at Nikos, and then said, “He kept waving the gun back and forth.”
“My .50 caliber Desert Eagle is gold-plated, very heavy, and I don’t think he ever held a gun before,” said Nikos. “He did not even know the thing was Israeli or he probably would not have touched it. The only part of my plan that was missing was how to safely get myself out of there without anyone finding too much out.” Nikos leered at his father. “Your people may have been too thorough.”
Alastair shook his head. “And that’s where I came in.”
Nikos nodded at Alastair. “Alastair had been my safari guide in Kenya, and I had gotten to know him. I knew he had once been a commando. I invited him to ski in Gstaad where he blended right in. Did you fellows know your friend here is descended from the peerage? His real name is not even Main, that’s his middle name. His real name is Alastair Main Bulteel-Boyd.” Nikos winked at Alastair. “You didn’t think I knew. Bulteel-Boyd in the SAS before the GCP and then off the radar for a while, I did a background check of course. That’s how I found out we both knew Christine and then, more importantly.” Nikos tilted his head back toward Pepe. “I accidently make the connection of how he knew Christine, he saw a photo of me with my arm around her, and recognized her right away. I remember he told me that if anything ever happened to Christine, there would be a string of commandos at the door.” Nikos held his hands up in the air. “And then like magic everything came together, and he was right, you two flew into the rescue with no questions asked.”
Pepe swung his Berretta over toward Alastair’s face. His already red eyes glazing, “You did this for money.”
Alastair held his hand up in defense toward Pepe. “Whoa! Whoa! He played me the same as you. I thought we would find her in Dubai. When Abbo mentioned Dada I suspected a double-cross and tracked Nikos here.”
Demetrius grabbed his son’s shoulder. “Why do you have the girl?” he asked.
“At the compound everything was falling into place. Dada’s man Tijon, the bald giant, had shown me the exhilaration of pain when I let him beat me. The adrenalin mixed with the cocaine Feizel and I did back at the compound helped me see my --,” Nikos pursed his lip, “--invincibility. I knew I could finally begin to make things really happen, to shape things the way I wanted them to be. I had manipulated you, Abbo, Dada, Feizel, Alastair, everybody. I never felt so in control with so much power, a puppet master. I told Christine that soon I was going to be making changes when we were free – she of course believed we were prisoners – anyway, I told her I was going to change my life and I wanted her with me, by my side.” Nikos tossed his hands in the air. “She laughed at me, can you believe, at me? She told me I had been doing too many drugs with Feizel. So I took her.”
“So you took her?” asked Pepe.
“To teach her a lesson. To show her I could own her like anything else. I don’t know. I did not think everything through. I flew her to the boat in Monaco, and have kept her out of it until I could figure everything out.”
“What is she on?” asked Pepe.
“Only tranquilizers, nothing more. I figured once she woke up and realized she had to stay with me everything would work out.”
* * * * *
Chapter 71
Talamanca Bay, Ibiza
Talamanca Bay was far cooler by comparison to the inland climes of Ibiza. With six adults occupying the Azulejo’s main cabin, the small space was beginning to become quite warm. The fury of Demetrius Stratos and Pepe Laroque increased the temperature of the cabin several degrees. Both men were angry with Nikos, each for their own reason yet the nature was the same. Nikos was disloyal and had betrayed the trust of those around him. Demetrius was angered by his son’s disloyalty to him, and Pepe was angered by Nikos’ betrayal to Christine. Nikos was separated from reality, delusional. An heir to thousands of millions, he had created a deception within deceptions to suit unnecessary petty needs, manipulating some, and sacrificing others indiscriminately.
Demetrius took in a deep nasal breath. “Take her out of here,” he said to the three gunmen. “This needs to end now.” He shifted his conversation between the three former Legionnaires. Each of them still held a weapon, all aimed in his general direction. “I did not want to believe you.” He pressed his lips tightly together. “I have already set aside an account for you --,” he paused, “-- for your trouble.” Demetrius flashed his eyes toward Christine, half conscious on Alastair’s shoulder. “There is an exceptional amount set aside for Miss Laroque.”
Cameron did not take Demetrius’ statements as an offer to lower his weapon, nor did Alastair or Pepe. The tone in which the Greek spoke was not at all convincing. The three knew far too much.
To confirm Cameron’s foreshadowing, Demetrius turned to him, and then slipped his hand under the bottom of his linen shirt. Cameron extended his neck and slightly raised his Ruger.
“Relax,” said Demetrius. From the waist of his linen pants Demetrius retrieved an item familiar to Cameron. He held the piece of metal harmlessly across his open palm. Cameron’s eyes went wide as did Pepe’s. “Back in Gstaad you were admiring my collection,” said Demetrius. “I know you know what this is.”
Alastair craned his neck. “What do you have?” he asked. “A knife?”
“A dagger,” said Pepe.
Cameron frowned, “A Rex Mundi dagger to be more specific.”
“What is a Rex Mundi dagger?” asked Alastair. “May I have a look?”
Cameron glanced at Alastair then back into the eyes of Demetrius. “Rex Mundi, King of the World,” said Cameron.
“King of the what?” asked Alastair.
Cameron’s brow furrowed. “A terrorist group Pepe and I stumbled upon up in Canada.”
Pepe added, “More like a secret cult. They carry these daggers. Cameron and I have quite a collection.”
Cameron stepped back from the Greek. “The Rex Mundi operatives we encountered were soldiers. The person that told us about the Rex Mundi implied the people running the show were quite well off.”
Demetrius smiled and nodded. “Your friend was quite correct,” he said. “Then again she is well versed in our ways.”
Cameron heard the word ‘is’ and that meant that the Rex Mundi never tracked down Nicole, and that they were unaware of what had happened to Marie. They were unaware that Marie had died in the cabin on Lake Ontario, a victim of the Rex Mundi’s pursuit. To realize that Demetrius Stratos was part of the twisted clandestine organization that had relentlessly pursued him and the two innocent women of faith he had escorted from New York to Canada, wretched his stomach.
As if looking into Cameron’s mind Demetrius said, “The cell put into action was very sloppy.” Demetrius shifted his body back toward the center of the cabin and at the same time, he twirled the dagger from his palm, toward his other hand, so that an index finger was on each end, and then he began to playfully roll the knife in concentric circles, appearing to amuse himself while he spoke. “Ironic that I now owe you a total of three counts of gratitude, Mister Kincaid.”
“Yes, ironic,” said Cameron.
“You saved my son.” Demetrius flashed his eyes at Nikos then back to his dagger. “Well, you and I both thought you saved him, just the same, and you alerted me to this, shall we say situation. The greatest thanks I bare, is for the extermination of that cockroach Dada.” He locked his eyes onto Pepe. “More accordingly I should thank you.”
In a challenge to himself, Demetrius began to spin the dagger more rapidly.
“Dada you see, was not long for power anyway, a mere pawn. Worse Dada resisted the true powers that be, colluding with my own son.” Demetrius shook his head, “tsk, tsk, tsk.”
Demetrius simultaneously straightened his neck and stopped the rotation of the dagger. “Things are in place for a reason.” Reduced to a toy, he clutched the dagger by the hilt yet held the knife away from himself, inspecting the ornament and design. The object appeared foreign to him. “You know my family, dur
ing and before World War II, were Nazi collaborators.” He met eyes with Cameron and nodded his head. “Really, we were.” He then turned to Alastair. “Immediately after the war we allied with the British. Before all of that, we collaborated with the Turks, and the Brits again before that, always a grander plan spinning the wheel.” He moved the hand holding the dagger in a broad circle to illustrate.
Demetrius stopped for an elaborate pause, the attention of the four other men in the room drawn to the hovering metal blade, drawn to him.
“Look, we need these people, like Dada and Abbo, to serve a purpose. We create them by employing them to service a need. To transfer commodities under the guise of a hijacking, to fulfill insurance contracts that finance new fleets, mercenaries to eliminate non-players, hell the Chinese need a place to send the floating fish factory ships that feed their masses, food after all means power. All these and other tasks need to be performed.”
“Like dumping toxic waste in the open sea,” said Pepe.
Demetrius absently nodded at Pepe. “Those men like Dada and Abbo are minions of a market, men like myself created. One might say --,” Demetrius paused again. He glared into the shine of the metal blade he held out before him. “One might say, as the Texans are the Arabs, we are the real Somali pirates.”
* * * * *
Chapter 72
Talamanca Bay, Ibiza
Demetrius was certainly convinced of everything he told those aboard the Azulejo. Demetrius held a Rex Mundi dagger yet nothing that he said sounded anything like the fervor Cameron had heard from the Rex Mundi operative in Quebec. The way Cameron heard Demetrius, maintaining power and rank was justified by any means. Then again, Cameron was well aware that leaders are motivated by a different agenda than the many parts of an organization. Cameron himself had been a cog in a wheel when he was a super commando, never questioning, never daring to question. That same sense of honor had been used against him these last days, once again making him a cog in a wheel.
Cameron found himself angry. An anger he decided was justified. Nikos was the twisted arrogant son of a billionaire. Cameron figured Nikos had done too much ecstasy, cocaine, or plainly never was rooted in reality. The audacity of this pretty boy to say outright that he took Christine to show her, he could own her.
Cameron’s disdain for Nikos was great, yet no measure to Pepe’s. Cameron could read Pepe easily from where he stood across the cabin. Pepe’s own sanity had been drawn and tested by this ordeal, and there was not much left keeping Pepe’s finger from squeezing the trigger of the Berretta angled less than a muzzle flash from Nikos’ skull.
Cameron shot his eyes to Alastair. Alastair was a fun loving man, easy going by nature, a natural calm. To friend Alastair, was to gain a lifelong unquestioned loyalty. The back of Cameron’s throat went acidic. The man that had saved his life more times than he knew, literally more times than he knew, had eyes fixed on Nikos no differently than a predator. That is what the betrayal meant.
Yet, the playboy’s father appeared far more furious with Nikos than the three former Legionnaires. His grandstanding finished, Demetrius gave the hilt of the raised dagger a tighter squeeze. Whether he was punctuating his the end of his speech, or beginning another, Cameron was unsure. Demetrius dropped the hand holding the dagger by his side and then turned to Nikos. He shook his head in short scolding turns. “Tsk, tsk, tsk. You are a naughty one Nikos.”
Cameron tilted his head to the side in disbelief. The father spoke to the grown son as a three year old. No wonder Nikos was a mess.
Demetrius raised the dagger and began shaking the pointy end to Nikos face. “What would your mother say? You would break her heart. You break my heart. You try to negotiate around me, you deceive your friend Alastair, you double-cross Abbo, Feizel, and then you killed Feizel.” Demetrius slipped the dagger into the pocket of his linen pants and then shoved Nikos back. Nikos cowered to his father. “You should know better Nikos.”
Demetrius stepped back from Nikos. He raised his hands in the air. Then Demetrius violently reached his free hand under Nikos’ shirt, into his waist. Nikos pushed at his father’s hands. Demetrius slapped him across the face.
Demetrius held his index finger up to Nikos, glared at him sternly, and then he defiantly reached back to Nikos’ waist and retrieved a small Ruger. He tossed the gun back and forth in his hands. “What is this?” he asked. “You carry a gun now too.”
Demetrius turned away from Nikos to address all the three Legionnaires. His head floated back and forth across all three as he spoke, “I am sure you are wondering why I so openly shared with you my involvement, my families involvement, with the Rex Mundi, our relationship clandestine all of these years. They want me to apologize for my son.” Demetrius shrugged. “What is a father to do? I have to apologize for my son, and, there is only one way to make amends for the damage he has done. There is only one set of terms the Rex Mundi accepts for what he has done. They want me to kill him of course, and if he were anyone else --,” he twirled the barrel of the Ruger toward the ceiling. “Well I have to spare my son.”
Then Demetrius abruptly lowered the Ruger toward Alastair, and fired.
Cameron released two rounds into Demetrius’ side while Alastair simultaneously fired into his forehead, implanting fragments of the Greek’s skull into the hull, killing him instantly.
What may have been a war cry began to escape from Nikos throat as he threw his body forward to charge Cameron. The cry became a gurgle as Pepe’s blade clotheslined Nikos, slicing halfway through his neck. Cameron had seen Pepe do this before. The Berretta against Nikos skull had been a prop, the obvious weapon. Pepe had wanted to take Nikos’ life with his hands.
Alastair sent a shot from the PPK into Nikos as well, though the partial decapitation was what killed him.
Alastair inspected his shoulders and then the hull around him. “Bloody hell, he missed me.”
“He didn’t miss,” said Cameron. “He was in a corner. He said himself he had to spare his son. He knew we wouldn’t. I think his heart was broken. He didn’t want to see Nikos die.”
“And what was with all of that rambling,” said Alastair.
“Demetrius knew he wasn’t leaving.” Cameron knelt down and took the Rex Mundi dagger from Demetrius’ pocket, far more ornamented than the others he had seen, this one had a crimson ruby set in the hilt. Cameron inspected the familiar ruby closely, and then lifted Demetrius’ hand. The ruby set into his ring was the same cut and size, and encircled with the exact design as the dagger.
“And what about that thing?” asked Alastair. He shifted to allow Pepe to exam Christine’s pupils.
“Same thing,” said Cameron. “He felt the need to let me know, they know who I am.”
“They?” asked Alastair. “Who the bloody hell are they?”
“The Rex Mundi.”
“Right.”
“I’ll fill you in after we get out of here.” Cameron nodded toward Christine, her hair mussed, gaze dazed. “She’s waited long enough for us.” His face froze for a second, “And there is another woman waiting for us to rescue her from the trunk of the Aston Martin.”
Alastair gave Cameron a sinking leer, “We don’t have to --,”
Cameron shook his head. “No, she won’t talk.” He glanced down at Nikos. “Besides, there has been enough unnecessary carnage.” Cameron rested his hands, one with a Ruger, the other with the dagger, on his knees and sighed. “Listen I’m gonna do a wipe down. Let’s get her out of here.”
Alastair eased Christine upright. “Christine we need to go.”
“Let me help you,” said Pepe, slipping his arm beneath his sister. “The anesthetic effect of the drugs will wear off eventually, for now I don’t believe she knows what has happened.”
* * * * *
The End
Cameron Kincaid returns in
Templar Force
* * * * *
* * * * *
A Note from the Author
Thank
you for reading episode four of The Somali Deception. This story is the second in the Cameron Kincaid series and a favorite of my lovely wife. The original draft of the manuscript, shorter and much different that the final release, was written during November of 2010 for nanowrimo, or national novel writing month. I had planned a different project, and then came an intriguing discussion concerning the misconception of piracy with my friend Margot Kiser, an American reporting from Kenya. Coincidentally I have other friends that had already stirred my curiosity for the region, particularly my good friend Alastair Boyd, who at the time was an eco-lodge director in Laikipia. That was 2010, what happened? Well in January 2011, I was asked to oversee a multinational tech surge, in a hired gun manner if you will, and The Somali Deception was shelved. After the consulting engagement, I returned to writing full time, and did not return to The Somali Deception. Then in April of 2013, The Cathari Treasure connected with an audience and began to climb the Best Seller list, sparking encouragement from my wife to dust off the next in the series. Around the same time, an editor from a New York publishing house inquired as to whether the story could be told as an episodic serial. Up for the challenge, I rescaled the project and the result was a four episode serial with twice the action as the first story in the series.
The are numerous contributors that bring a project to completion, my family first and foremost, a myriad of fellow authors and friends on twitter, and countless others.
Individually I want to thank Chad Ness, Lon Grover, Alastair Boyd, and Margot Kiser all of whom supported the project either through shared research or the diligent reading of first drafts. I would also like to thank the readers that signed up as First Readers for this manuscript as their contributions have helped me to create a better release edition.
The Somali Deception Episode IV (A Cameron Kincaid Serial) Page 6
