"Look," Dara said, "as long as the pirates were underdogs and behaved themselves, didn't shoot anybody, they're the good guys. All they're doing is getting back at the shipping companies, and 'getting back' seems acceptable in their world."
"You gonna explain that in your voice-over?"
"Or," Dara said, "we show the pirates are being used by unscrupulous middlemen in London, in Dubai, Nairobi-this was on the BBC-who contact the shipping companies, work out ransom negotiations and take their cut."
"I'll ask you again," Xavier said, "you gonna explain all that in the movie?"
"If I have to."
Xavier said, "You gettin into somethin over your head. Where the dudes climbed up on the Buster, boarded us on the high seas? You trash that episode?"
"It's next," Dara said. "I'm still thinking of a way to use it."
CHAPTER SEVEN
NOW THEY WERE WATCHING on the screen a ship stacked to the bow with trailer-size containers that would be dropped onto railroad freight cars or hooked to eighteen-wheelers in a few weeks, the ship coming west to the Red Sea and Europe.
A bottle of French Pinot Noir stood on the table between them. "This wine," Xavier said, "cost twelve bucks, a store on Magazine. Djibouti wholesale we pay fifty and think we drinkin pretty good wine."
Dara said she was never sure why a good wine was good. She liked this one, but never got much of a taste holding the wine in her mouth. Xavier said, "You any good you can even tell where it's from. Catch a scent of maybe smoke, you sniff it, or has a taste of wood." Xavier said, "I have a friend name of Christopher in Tucson, Arizona, could take a sip of this wine, roll it over his taste buds, tell you where it's from and what the taste is, Christopher detectin a hint of tobacco juice musta been spit in the barrel."
The container ship was passing within a mile and a half of the Buster, Dara on it with the Sony. She said, "You hear what I hear?"
"I see 'em," Xavier said, "comin top speed. Two pirate boats, six in one, three in the other. Goin for the aft end of the ship like hyenas gonna nip at her fantail, the lowest freeboard and no containers in the way. Yeah, I remember this. The crew puttin fire hoses on the pirates. Hittin 'em good and the boats veer off."
"Now they're firing at the ship," Dara said.
"Can't get close enough to hit anybody. They veer off a ways and Niag'ra Falls comes down on the pirate boats, the hoses reachin out to them."
"They're giving it up," Dara said. "Who wants to board a ship soaking wet?"
They watched the boats heading for shore, more than a mile from the Buster. "Here's where the one spots us," Dara said, "and falls back. The boat with all the guys continues heading in. If they'd seen us we'd be facing nine instead of three."
Xavier said, "Facin? You they mama, one of their biggest fans. You love pirates."
"I should've asked if they want to be in a movie," Dara said. "It might've given them pause. I remember I told you to use the Sony and shoot as long as we can. I had the Canon peeking through the hole in my bag."
"I remember I said they try and snatch it from you," Xavier said, "lemme have it." THE SCREEN SHOWED ONE Somali in the boat, holding it against the Buster; the other two coming up over the side, both swinging AKs from their shoulders while Xavier was shooting the closer one looking right at him, Xavier filming until the hand spread open in front of the lens. The pirate put his hand on the camera to take it and Xavier held on. He said, "You want to put me out of business?" and looked over at Dara and the other pirate-a young guy with a skullcap of short hair.
Xavier saw him snatch at Dara's bag hanging from her shoulder. Dara took his hand around the wrist and started talking to him in what sounded like a kindly way, speaking Cajun French to him, and now the young pirate was nodding as Dara glanced at Xavier.
"He said yes, he would love to be in a movie."
Now she was speaking French to the pirate looking up at Xavier standing over him, translating to Cajun what Xavier was saying. "You won't be in the film you don't return my boss's camera. She'll be all over my ass. Understand what I'm sayin?" Dara at the same time shooting him through the hole in her cotton bag.
Xavier's pirate said something to his buddy in Somali, yanked the Sony from Xavier's hands and went into the wheelhouse, this fella with a don't-fuck-with-me attitude.
Dara slipped the bag off her shoulder, handed it to Xavier and followed the one with the Sony through the wheelhouse and the hatch to go below.
Now Xavier faced the younger pirate holding the AK.
He said, "How things goin, Dog?"
The boy looked nervous, not knowing how to answer this English coming at him.
Xavier said, "Why don't you hand me your gun," moving a step toward him. "So I don't have to take it from you and heave your ass over the side. You comprende 'heave your ass'?" Xavier smiling to show the pirate he was offering this suggestion as a friend. Now he motioned to the young man to step over here, closer to him, Xavier saying, "We got Pirates at home playin baseball for Pittsburgh. Only time I saw 'em was in '79, they playin the Orioles for the World Series and won it. I was seein a woman in Baltimore and she got the tickets. Willie Stargell, my hero at the time, thirty years ago when I was prime, was named the Series MVP. Hit four hundred with seven extra-base hits. I think it mighta been a record. I won money bettin the Pirates, but this woman got mad and quit doin right by me."
Xavier was ready to take the AK from the boy, but heard Dara's voice again speaking French, Dara coming out of the wheelhouse now with the other guy, Dara holding Xavier's Beretta in her hand, the gun loaded, thirteen in the magazine, one in the throat.
"Kwame," Dara said, "will return the Sony if we give him your pistol. But you have to say it's okay."
"They neither one speak English?"
"Hardly a word."
"Tell Kwame," Xavier said, "he don't give you the camera, I'm gonna shoot him between the eyes with this gun and pitch his ass in the sea."
Dara told the Somali in her Cajun French, "Kwame, my associate says yes, he'll let you have the pistol, if you prefer it, to the camera."
Said all this handing Xavier the Sony and said, "Start shooting," as she handed Kwame Xavier's Beretta and the deal was done.
Xavier said, "You know what you doin?"
Dara said, "We'll have to use subtitles on my lines."
"You giving this man our only protection?"
"We'll get it back," Dara said.
CHAPTER EIGHT
DARA, THE NEXT MORNING, came out of the wheelhouse to see Xavier on deck scoping the shoreline through binoculars.
"I woke up thinking about a picture I love, but can't remember its name."
Xavier lowered the glasses to his chest but didn't turn to her. "A wine lover takes his buddy to Napa to sample wines. Paul Giamatti's the one who knows wines. Can't stand Merlot, it's so common. I'll think of the buddy's name in a minute. He's a likable lout. He's getting married the next week, but keeps jumping in bed with a girl he meets. Actually he does her standing up."
"Sideways," Xavier said, raising his glasses. "You hear the boats comin out this time?"
She said, "That's why I came up," looking at the shore now, about three miles from them.
"We're meetin the Sheik of Araby in a few minutes," Xavier said. "You anxious to see Idris?"
She said what was on her mind. "Use the little camcorder but keep it under wraps. He might not want to be filmed. I'll decide later if we show him the footage."
"I asked are you anxious to see him."
"Well, he ain't bad."
"For a Arab or a hijacker?" Xavier said. "You don't mind gettin close with a black guy?"
"If I were nuts about him, why not?"
"You sayin that for my benefit."
"You aren't bad either," Dara said. "No, what I like about Idris, he comes off as a free spirit. But is he for real or is he putting us on? Billy Wynn comes off the same way."