The Geneva Decision

by Seeley James

  They nodded.

  “We’ll draw the bad guys our way. With your help, we can all get out of here.”

  The women thanked their liberators profusely until Pia told them to get moving. Miguel and Marty stared at Pia, who poked Big-gut with her rifle. She said, “You and Calixthe have just the one boy?”

  “I’m not talking to you,” he said.

  She held up the bottle of Lithium. “Is that because the voices in your head are such great conversationalists?”

  He lifted his chin.

  “Have it your way, genius. March in front of me five paces, or I’ll dart you and tie you to a tree like your pals.”

  The sound of distant gunfire echoed outside. A few bursts—impossible, in this dense jungle, to determine distance or direction. The four of them headed out at a quick clip with Big-gut at gunpoint.

  Marty scanned the trees while they marched.

  “Hey, where’s Calixthe?”

  Pia said, “She’s one of them.”

  “I thought she was a conscript.”

  “Calixthe didn’t want to stop in Bekumu because they’ve never seen her before. Then she tripped and fell on nothing but air. That was to tip off the bad guys. I accidentally gave her that excuse about being forced into it, but later she tried to sneak up and club me.”

  Marty said, “Everybody wants to do that.”

  Pia punched him playfully.

  “Reckless, going in that hole,” Miguel said. “Those women could have been acting too.”

  “I thought about that. They were all ages, including several grandmothers. Can’t imagine what pirates would want with them. They looked like real villagers and cowered at the sight of these guys. Didn’t look like acting.”

  Marty said, “The pirates thought we were all going to walk into that bamboo hut and get killed?”

  “They only needed one of us,” Pia said. “They kill or torture one and the boat comes up river. Once the boat was in the river, they planned to bottle us up with the Zodiacs, turn it into a kill zone.”

  More shots echoed through the trees. They picked up the pace.

  “Tania’s got them on the run,” Marty said. “She’s a one-woman army since they got Ezra.”

  “What?” Pia stopped.

  “Sorry, you were down in the hole,” Marty said. “Ezra took a lot of shrapnel.” He shook his head. “He didn’t make it.”

  “Dammit.” Pia bit her lip. “He was a good…”

  She didn’t try to hide tears slipping out of the corners of her eyes. After giving her a moment, Marty patted her back.

  “Need you to suck it up, boss. We grieve later,” Miguel said after a minute. “We can’t avenge Ezra if they gun us down.”

  Pia nodded, wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, took a deep breath.

  They ran on.

  “Why did you have the women tie up the pirates?” Miguel asked.

  “Psychology,” she said. “We can’t take them with us. So it shows how little they mean to us. Like throwing back the little fish.”

  Marty said, “That’s cold.”

  “And it’ll slow them down.”

  Big-gut stopped running. “Thomas’ll just gun ‘em down for failing. You’ve given them a bleeding death sentence.”

  “Are you serious?” Pia said. “Your pals would kill them instead of untie them? Either you’re bluffing or you picked your leader badly.”

  Big-gut looked away.

  “Get moving.” Marty pushed him forward. “He’s lying. Why would they waste the ammunition?”

  Pia looked at Miguel, who shook his head and followed Marty. Pia thought about the situation. If Big-gut was bluffing, there’d be no harm. If he was serious, there’d be a lot of deaths, for which she’d be responsible .

  She stopped. “I can’t let Elgin Thomas kill those people. I’m going back to help Tania. You two get this guy into the Zodiac and bring it down river. I’ll meet you on the beach.”

  “No way,” Miguel said. “You go with Marty. I cover Tania.”

  Marty said, “Hey, both of you free up Tania and I’ll meet you south of the village. I can handle lard-ass, no problem.”

  Pia and Miguel turned and ran toward an area just south of the village. When they got close enough to follow the gunfire, Pia tried her phone.

  “Tania, can you hear me?”

  “Shut up, bitch,” Tania said.

  Pia rolled her eyes.

  Miguel smiled at her. He pushed his earbud in tighter and said, “Tania, two hundred meters east of you and moving in. Where do you want us?”

  “Fifty meters west,” Tania said. “I’m shooting lead, aiming east.”

  They moved out, watching the light and shadows.

  Pia’s mind wandered. This was the most dangerous situation she’d ever been in. She’d had that same thought three times in the last few days but each new situation presented an escalated level of danger. Eric was right about her lack of experience. Eric… She stumbled.

  “Focus!” Miguel said.

  She nodded and moved on.

  They moved between the trees, snaking their way into the fight. The crackling sound of gunfire echoed through the jungle. Every bug and animal had gone to ground in the hope of staying alive. Even the trees refused to sway. Other than the eerie snap of bullets every minute or so, the jungle was silent.

  Miguel pulled up behind a tree and yanked Pia behind him. He motioned with fingers, two hostiles on the left and two on the right. He would take out the left and Pia would stay behind the tree. She shook her head. He shrugged and motioned for her to follow behind him. She watched the right flank, half hoping to shoot someone.

  Instead, a barrage of gunfire sent them both to the ground. An indiscriminate burst aimed in their general direction. The element of surprise was lost. Pia crawled backwards to a large tree and tried to locate the enemy. To the right, beyond several trees, she saw two men trotting toward them.

  Her glance connected with a pair of hateful eyes.

  Al-Jabal.

  For all her talk of joining her mother in the afterlife, the idea that this murderer could be the one to send her there made her both furious and afraid. She focused on the anger. She pulled her gun around and fired. He ducked. She missed.

  “Tania, Marty will be due south with a Zodiac in three minutes,” Miguel said. “How deep are you?”

  They heard her fire a three-round burst.

  “I can get there, but I’ll be coming through the two on your left,” Tania said. “If you can brush them back, that would help.”

  “Two on the right,” Pia said, “closing in on us. One of them is my friend from Geneva. I’ll hold them. Miguel clears your path and we should be good to go.”

  “We’re counting on you, boss,” Miguel said.

  He left.

  Pia peered around the trunk in the direction of her nemesis and saw bark flying in front of her face— the sound of gunfire reached her an instant later. She backed around the other side and instinctively ducked back an instant before another cloud of bark disintegrated. They had her pinned down. Their bullets could make the distance but her darts couldn’t. She cursed herself for her overconfidence. She ran in the opposite direction, using the tree to shield her retreat.

  She wove back and forth, putting plenty of trees behind her, then pulled up behind a fallen log and squatted. She listened. They were slow, but they were definitely in pursuit, crashing through the underbrush and jumping small ferns.

  The first to emerge from the darkness was a stranger. She aimed at him and considered the distance. One shot would give away her position. She couldn’t afford to miss. He ran on, disappearing behind a stand of saplings. Then he re-emerged, light flashing off his face. He stopped. This was her chance—damn, she wished she’d had more training with an M4. She aimed and pulled the trigger.

  He dropped.

  Knowing al-Jabal would pinpoint her in a second, Pia ran back in the direction Miguel had gone. Gunfire erupted but nothing n
ear her exploded. Al-Jabal was firing in anger. Good. Angry people don’t think straight. Sometimes they channel that energy into working harder, faster, smarter, but Al-Jabal wasn’t that smart—she hoped. A large termite mound offered her cover. She slid behind it, caught her breath, and crawled up. Peering over the crest, she searched the jungle in every direction. He could come from anywhere.

  The trees and air were still, the jungle silent. Out there in the shadows lurked Marot’s killer. Something moved. She felt al-Jabal’s presence, sensed his anger at seeing her in Cameroon. She scanned the trees, the shadows, the open spots. Something moved again. On her left. Was it in the shrubs? Behind the tree? A flash of clothing in a sunbeam, a moving fern. He’d gone that way. Should she follow? Make a noise and draw him in? Or should she keep the high ground, a tactical advantage?

  Chapter 24

  * * *

  26-May, 1PM

  On her earbud she heard Miguel announce that his targets were fleeing south. The escape route was clear. Tania and Miguel headed for Marty’s Zodiac. Pia checked her sat-phone’s compass and figured al-Jabal must be east of her, the others south. Everything in her wanted to track him and dart him, but that was a dangerous game against a dangerous man. She’d wait for another day, another time. She slid down the mound and trotted due west.

  In a hundred meters she found the river but not Marty, Miguel, or Tania. She ducked back to a secluded place and checked in via phone. Her GPS tracking showed them upstream two hundred meters. She began trotting in their direction while Miguel came to meet her. Twenty meters later, something caught her eye.

  Someone in the trees. She planted her feet and jumped backward seconds before bullets shredded a bush in front of her. She dropped to the ground and rolled in tall grass. Not knowing the direction, she dared not stand. At the same time, she couldn’t stay in the open. Rising to a crouch, she ran for a clump of trees, turned her back to one, and looked in all directions.

  She saw him.

  Only a few meters away, he scanned the shadows down his rifle sights, looking in the wrong direction. If he turned thirty degrees, he’d stare straight at her.

  She raised her gun, then froze. Beyond al-Jabal stood Tania, her hands raised in surrender. Al-Jabal would take no prisoners.

  But he was too far away, out of range for darts.

  Sometimes a bluff is all you need. She flipped the switch to full-auto.

  Pia shouted, fired for effect, and ran straight at al-Jabal.

  Surprised and confused, he turned, dropped to the ground. Tania fired, missed him but hit his gun. It spun out of his grasp. He scrambled for it.

  Pia’s darts flew unaimed and off target as she ran. She stopped, aimed, fired. Too far, another miss. He picked up his gun. She ran, bounding left and right to avoid his fusillade. Tania ran ahead of her, calling and pointing the way. After a few meters, Miguel came alongside and the three of them dove into the Zodiac on top of Big-gut’s comatose body.

  Marty cranked the throttle and sped down the river. A sharp bend ahead promised to shield them from al-Jabal’s AK47, if they could get there in time. Only Tania had bullets that gave her the range to shoot back. She fired her last three rounds just left of al-Jabal. The killer fired back, his bullets streaked up the river. Marty cut back to the right and found another line of bullets hitting the water immediately in their path. They all tensed, waiting for the bullets to hit someone or burst the pontoons.

  Nothing happened. Marty swerved again.

  “Out of ammo.” Miguel pointed at al-Jabal, who threw his gun on the ground. “They always think they have movie-star guns.”

  Pia pulled her magazine out. One dart left in the mag, one in the chamber.

  Tania stood up and waved to al-Jabal.

  “What happened to our hostage?” Pia asked.

  “He started shouting,” Marty said, “tried to alert his men. So I darted him. What do you want with this loser anyway?”

  “I need information,” Pia said and pointed at the darted captive. “This guy will trade for it because I have two things he needs. Badly.”

  Rounding the bend, they found the Limbe Explorer dead ahead, churning the water and stretched across the river sideways. Marty hailed the Major on the phone.

  “We ran aground trying to turn,” The Major said. “The other Zodiac went down river. We’re not sure if they went to block the mouth or get back to the trawler for reinforcements. You stay there. Captain Whittier hopes to have us out of here in another couple minutes. We’ll lead with the armor. Whittier doesn’t want to bring you aboard until we’re clear of the sandbar—too much weight. We’re already sitting ducks if they come back.”

  “Any sign of the coast guard?” Pia asked.

  “At least two hours out. Hey, captain says we’re almost free. Stand by to follow us out to sea.”

  The Limbe Explorer began rocking and churning. It turned ninety degrees in the river. Once straightened out, it began accelerating forward. Marty stayed back, center of the channel. As the Explorer gained speed, he allowed a larger gap between them. The big ship lumbered up to forty knots and left the jungle behind. Open sands on the left and a wide beach on the right looked to be clear of hostiles. Only a few tiny islands remained between them and the open ocean.

  “All clear,” the Major said. “Like they’ve gone home.”

  “Mangrove islands, could make good cover,” Miguel said. “Plenty of those.”

  Out in deeper water, the Limbe Explorer slowed. Miguel and Tania kept their eyes on the islands while Marty guided the Zodiac alongside the ship. Monique and the Major attempted to pull Big-gut’s dead weight over the railing, but he was too heavy. Miguel pulled, Marty and Pia pushed. With the toughest angle topside, Marty jumped over the railing and grabbed a hand.

  “Here they come,” Tania called out. “Dammit! They were waiting for us.”

  Marty, Miguel, and Pia stopped tugging and looked out to sea. Fifteen seconds away, a Zodiac sprayed a rooster tail as it headed straight for them.

  Tania called to the others for extra magazines—the Major had emptied everything on board. They had sleeper darts and handguns. Marty tossed one magazine to Tania. Miguel’s was empty. Pia had two darts in her M4, one in her Glock, plus two magazines in her pack.

  Miguel yanked their hostage one more time and finally got him half over the railing.

  “What am I gonna do with darts?” Tania shouted. “I’m about to face down a rubber boat and all I got is quarter-inch needles? How about a harpoon? Does Ahab have one of those? Fuck.”

  Tania stormed to the back of the Zodiac, cranked the throttle over, and headed out to meet the enemy head on. Pia knelt in the bow, trying desperately to train her M4 on the approaching pirates. Their boat bounced, the pirate boat bounced, her gun bounced.

  “Hey!” Miguel shouted from the Explorer’s deck. “Get back here!”

  Tania pulled away, her eyes on the enemy. When she finally looked at the only passenger onboard, she did a double-take.

  “Holy shit! I got the rich bitch too?” Tania said. “And you can’t aim worth a damn? Get back here and take the helm, dammit. We need someone up front who knows how to use the ammo. Get your ass over here.”

  Her attitude made Pia’s skin crawl, but her logic made sense. Pia dropped the M4 and took the helm.

  “Run straight at them,” Tania shouted above the engine noise. “That worked for you in the jungle, scared that guy for a second, let’s see if it works again. Oh, and, uh, thanks for saving my life.”

  Tania staggered forward, knelt, and rattled off a few shots. Nothing hit. They held their fire. The gap closed fast. Both boats bounced over the waves. Both groups eyed targets in the other boat—then they were on each other. Tania rose on her knees and fired. Nothing.

  Pia swerved to avoid their first salvo. The other boat mirrored her move at the same time. Pia’s boat bounced up and crashed down over the bow of the pirate boat. Tania was tossed into the enemy boat and landed on a pirate. Her gun f
lipped into the ocean.

  Pia ran up the pontoon onto the other boat. She chose to fight the man grappling Tania first over the unarmed coxswain. Tania did not appear to be winning. A man with sun-bleached hair and leathery skin rose to his feet, one arm around Tania’s waist and a knife under her chin. Tania’s eyes were wild with anger. The blade bit into her skin, ready to slice her throat open. The pirate eyed Pia.

  “Put the gun down or I cut her,” he said.

  She did.

  “American, huh?” Pia asked.

  She put her hands up and steadied herself, her left foot forward. She bent at the knees, rolling with the waves. He eyed her, then glanced behind him. The coxswain tugged on a rope looped across the floor of the boat. Pia felt something tug at her ankles—probably the rope—but kept her eyes on the pirate. The instant he glanced at the coxswain, she launched her attack. Three violent jabs hit home, the first to his windpipe, the second to his right eye, the third to his temple.

  He ducked her blows and slashed out with the knife. His method was a crude swipe, typical of a fighter who counted on an opponent’s fear instead of any technique or form. She knew she could win this one. She ducked and came back up with two fast body blows. Tania rolled right as a wave pushed the pontoon into her shin. She tumbled face first over the side with a scream that was silenced mid-syllable when she hit the water.

  Stunned, the pirate managed to slash at Pia with the knife again. She stepped back and felt the coxswain at her feet but didn’t look down. She’d have to finish them off one at a time. She feigned a left hook. When his knife slashed in that direction, she smashed his throat again with a right cross. His knife came back too late, slashing at the open space left by her retreating fist. He swiped again, across his body. She stepped closer, trapping his knife arm against his chest. In the split second he needed to pull his arm free, she let loose a barrage of blows into his throat followed by an uppercut. Unable to breathe, he reeled in pain and dropped the knife. She spun left and slammed her elbow into his head. He crumpled in a heap on the pontoon.