orders: this mission wasn’t a hostage rescue. The Somalis could never be allowed to keep this ship. And the pirates had made it clear they weren’t leaving unless it was feet first.
This was the PJs’ job to finish. Do or, really, die.
The team had a right to know everything.
LB set his thumb over the PTT on his team radio. Wally nodded, okay. He pressed his own talk button.
“Listen up, team. LB’s going to give us a fast brief. Eyes on your job while he talks. Go, LB.”
Wally dropped behind Jamie to keep an eye on their six while LB spoke on the team freq.
“All right. You guys remember Iran-Contra, back in the eighties. The US and Israel gave Iran a bunch of missiles under the table so they’d release some hostages. Well, it’s happening again; we got the twenty-first-century version. This ship is carrying state-of-the-art battlefield radar and weaponry to Iran, a swap for their nuclear weapons program. This shipment is so fucking illegal, it’s off the chart. Israel, Russia, and the US are behind it. The Somalis cannot, repeat, cannot, be allowed to keep this ship. You lucky bastards were the only unit sitting alert close enough to do the job. That’s the nutshell.”
Doc said only, “What a world.”
Quiet moments passed. Sandoval led LB and Jamie forward along the port rail; Wally backpedaled with his M4 facing backward. The missing member was Robey. His return broke the silence.
The team freq clicked. “Juggler. Fitz.”
Wally answered. “Fitz, go.”
“I found Robey.”
“How bad?”
“He’s dead. Someone cut him up pretty good.”
The kid never had a chance—he was overwhelmed in the first second. Robey was likely dead when he hit the water.
They continued to move toward the bridge, all of them with watchful eyes on the moon-shadowed corners of the freighter. Inside the bridge, the pirates paced in front of Drozdov and his hostage crew. The clock to the Predator continued to tick down: twenty-three minutes left. None of this stopped because of Robey’s death. The opposite happened; things sped up. LB hadn’t expected the PJs would take this ship and get away without paying for it.
Wally responded to Fitz. “Roger that. Stay close. I’ll let you know if we need you.”
“Roger. Good luck, guys.”
Like that, Robey was put aside. This was combat, and though the dead asked for a role, they had none.
Chapter 42
Suleiman galloped in front, holding Yusuf’s abandoned sandals. They left the cloud behind, gunfire rattling and fading at their backs.
They rounded a corner into the starboard rail corridor. The guns on the far side of the ship stopped snapping. Yusuf and Suleiman swept the muzzles of their Kalashnikovs left and right to be certain they were not being trailed. The moon had ridden high enough to show the corridor empty, but that meant little. The Americans could appear out of darkness and smoke anywhere on the ship. Yes, Yusuf thought, like demons. But the one he’d killed had died like any other man.
He wiped the knife on his khameez, a bloody man. He slid it into the sheath in his waistband.
A hundred meters toward the stern, at the top of the super-structure, the broad windshield of the bridge stayed dark. The freighter surged toward Qandala as if nothing were wrong.
“We’ve got to get to Guleed,” Yusuf said. “As long as we hold the controls, we can make it. The sun will be up in a few hours.”
Suleiman did not face him. He focused on the last wisps of smoke behind them, as though the puffs were more ghosts. Yusuf spoke to his cousin’s narrow back.
“We need to get to the bridge.”
“I agree.”
“Let’s go.”
“You must go, cousin.” Suleiman turned. “My brother.”
“We go together.”
Suleiman’s gold teeth sparkled. “We have traveled beside each other a long time. We go separate ways now.”
Yusuf set a palm to Suleiman’s thin chest. “It doesn’t have to be like that. You said we would fight together. Please, no more signs.”
“This is not a sign. It is a choice.” Suleiman covered Yusuf’s hand with his. “There is no jihad in piracy. There never was. I’m done with it. I won’t fight for this ship anymore.”
“You said to have faith. We’ll get through this. We’ll get home.”
Suleiman laughed. “I have absolute faith, cousin. If I am to live or die, I submit myself to Allah for a better cause than ransom.”
“Those are men.” Yusuf held out a stained and tacky hand. “Just men.”
“They may be men and still be sent by Allah.”
Suleiman scanned the stars. His words seemed intended as