Djibouti

"Won't be long we be seein Billy," Xavier said. "And cool Helene."

"Really. You think she's cool?"

"I do, and I haven't even spoken to her." THE CLIP PROJECTED ON the screen showed three boats coming out, their sound rising to a hard whine. Dara said, "They're called skiffs in most of the reports, but they're twenty-four feet long and they're deep." She said, "They sound angry, don't they?"

"Pissed off," Xavier said, "haulin ass for these African muggers."

They watched the boats on the screen reduce speed, creeping toward the Buster now, the Yamahas rumbling.

Or grumbling, Dara thought, and liked it for the voice-over, if it worked. Now she was explaining to someone, anyone: Now I'm laying in a voice-over for my documentary, Djibouti. It's an interesting title, isn't it? Djibouti. I feel lucky I found it. I'm humbled by it.

What does that mean, you're humbled? You've never been humble in your life. But leave it, it might work.

I've only made three documentaries.

But worked my ass off for other people. Cajun was one, a disaster. Limp. Folksy. You should do your own. Maybe call them "docs." It won't hurt you.

I've only made three docs in my life and all three happened to win major awards. Heck.

Try saying shit. You're being humble again.

I've produced three docs that won awards and I'm determined to make a name for myself.

Boring. Who cares? Just say:

There is nothing I'd rather do in the entire fucking world than make documentaries.

Delete fucking?

Just get rid of the docs. "COMING LIKE WILD DOGS," Dara said. "How about 'Coming like wolves'?"

"It's the same thing. But 'dogs' sounds meaner."

They watched Idris Mohammed standing in the lead boat, his yellow scarf around his head and looped under his chin, a long Arab-looking shirt open, and sunglasses. Pirate chic. The first thing she'd say to him. You didn't stop on your way back yesterday. Maybe you didn't hear my invitation. I know it was a bit windy.

Not the invitation, the fucking wind blowing.

But when his boat bumped alongside the Buster, the pirate chief looking up at her in his yellow scarf, Idris said, "It comes as my pleasure to see you again. Forgive me for not stopping yesterday. I knew if I did I would stay with you and my Coast Guard boys would have no one to instruct them."

He called them that, his Coast Guard boys.

Idris was maybe a quarter black, a quadroon? She remembered a scene in True Romance, the one where Dennis Hopper knows he's going to be shot and tells Christopher Walken, a Sicilian gangster, his great-great-grandma was fucked by a nigger. Meaning a Muslim from Africa like Idris.

What she kept wondering, How did Idris get started? Who gave him machine guns so he could hijack ships and make enough to buy whatever he wants? Who was backing this fun-loving pirate?

He said, "Yesterday we had trouble boarding the ship, so we let that one go. What difference does it make, there are so many ships come through our sea. Today," Idris said, "is an easy one. These boys are not mine, they from another clan, with experience. They won't need anyone telling them what to do."

"Good," Dara said. "I'd love to see you in action, but I'll settle for an interview."

He said, "Yes, a chance to be with you. Perhaps make plans for sometime we not doing nothing so important as being together."

He had turned and was speaking Somali to his Coast Guard boys, all armed with AKs, gesturing now for them to get going. He said to Dara, "There is a sailing yacht out there you can't see. It's maybe two miles from here."

Xavier shooting all this with the Canon, recording Idris's voice.

"Two persons aboard. Maybe we know them."

Dara said, "Billy?"

"It could be, yes, I'm hoping so."

"You'd hijack Billy's yacht?"

"Worth two million dollars he told me," Idris said. "How much you think he'd pay to keep it?" Idris grinning now. "I'm kidding with you. We frighten Billy, that's all, as a joke. Show we have a sense of humor. People don't think we have things to laugh at, but we do. Funny things happen to us."

"Climb aboard," Dara said, "we'll go rescue the poor guy."

She turned to Xavier as Idris stepped aboard.

"You get all that?"

"The whole thing," Xavier said.

CHAPTER NINE

BILLY WYNN WAS WEARING a canvas shooting vest with cartridge loops on both sides of his chest, eight loops, four empty. He threw his lines to Xavier and Xavier pulled the Pegaso alongside to tie on to Buster, the boat sitting a hundred or so yards from Eyl's beach of white sand and shelves of rocks.

He said to Idris, "Hey, it's good seeing you again, buddy." He told Dara and Xavier he must've looked like money-money-money sitting out there like a brain-dead Republican, no idea there were pirates about. He said to Dara, "I know you never vote their ticket, you're too with-it. You know things." He said, "I saw the boats coming out toward us, I thought sounding mean-I told Helene, 'Hon, go on below while I take care of business.'" He didn't mention what Helene asked him, if this was part of the test. Wild Arabs bearing down on them. Was she being funny? He questioned times he wasn't sure. His feeling for Helene was love, the tender kind, till she drew him to the king-size bed he called their love bunk.

"The first thing I did was check my elephant gun I keep up here in the cockpit when we're under way. Every morning I bring it topside and fire both loads. Get use to the kick."

Dara saw Idris about to step from Buster to the Pegaso and said, "Wait." And handed Idris a mike to aim at his buddy. "You'll be doing me a huge favor."

"But I can't show my face," Idris said, "I'm a bandit to people who can persecute me."

"We're only shooting Billy while I talk to him, for the film. You won't be seen."

Xavier shot Idris stepping to the sailboat, Billy offering a hand, Xavier hearing, "Man, but it's a treat to see you again," while they shook hands. And Idris's voice: "You had trouble with my men? They went by us towing one of the boats and drinking champagne. I said, 'What is going on?'"

Xavier nudged Dara. "You gonna love it."

Dara called to Billy, "What did the pirates want?"

"Hold me for ransom, what those people do."

"Where's Helene?"

"I told her stay below while I run 'em off." He looked around. "She's still there."

"Two weeks ago," Dara said, "we saw you leaving Djibouti. You flew past us and turned around to go back."

"I took off," Billy said, "not realizing I was short of stores."

"Champagne?" Dara said.

"Among other goods. These guys now," Billy was saying, "they're making a wide circle to come around and run past me from about fifty meters." He said to Dara, "Why, you think I drink too much?"

Dara said, "How would I know?"

"Helene says getting ripped seems to calm me down. I become serious for some reason. Helene says I make pronouncements."

Idris had to wait before saying, "You wave something at my boys, show you're a friend?"

"Like what, a white flag? I'm out of the cockpit holding a double-barrel rifle fires six-hundred-caliber Nitro Express rounds. They're coming past me now, ducks in a row. I fire and blow the Yamaha off the first one. The second boat I fire a speck wide, hit the outboard but took a chunk out of the stern. The boat sank in five minutes opened up like it was. I see the guys swimming to the first boat drifting away. Dumb guys don't bring any oars. They look like they're in a panic, the ones in the water, till they got pulled aboard the third boat. I reloaded, my shoulder sore as hell. You talk about a kick-I've seen that Holland amp; Holland knock people right off their feet. There's a trick to not getting injured by the recoil."

Dara said, "What about the third boat?"

"They sat out there two hundred meters looking at me. I wanted, I could've hit two of 'em before they pulled away."

Dara said, "Why didn't you?"

"For what? 'Cause they want to get rich? I thought of telling Helene to put her bra on and come topside. Show these Mohammedans what they're missing. You know my elephant gun set me back a hundred and thirty-five thousand? I'll tell you for a fact, it's good to have the means."