He headed back into the corridor and Stratton walked out carrying his cup of tea between the crew that had amassed in the narrow passage and now parted like the Red Sea.
‘Told you,’ Bob said to his men.
The captain led the way up the steep, narrow staircase, past two landings before arriving at the door to the bridge deck. A small radio shack was on the left before another door that led into the bridge. A Filipino crewman in a smart white shirt and trousers stood on watch and he smiled broadly and nodded a greeting to Stratton.
The captain went over to the radio satellite equipment. ‘Just punch in your number,’ he said, stepping out of the way.
Stratton took the phone and inspected the equipment to familiarise himself with it.
‘I expect you want some privacy?’ the captain asked.
‘A few minutes, if that’s OK.’
‘Not a problem,’ the captain said. ‘Jamail will have to stay on watch but he doesn’t speak much English.’
‘That’s fine.’
‘I’ll be in my room directly below. Give me a shout when you’re done. I have to make a report and explain what’s been happening my end.’
‘Thanks,’ Stratton said as the old man walked out and closed the door behind him.
Jamail went to the wheel and concentrated ahead.
Stratton keyed in the number, going over what he needed to say. He wanted to be succinct but also cover everything. He thought about Hopper and how he was going to explain the man’s death. He couldn’t get into much detail over the phone but he had to give the broad strokes of what happened.
After several seconds he heard a gentle pulsing sound and shortly after someone picked up the other end.
‘Hello,’ a woman’s voice said.
‘SB Ops please.’
‘This is not a secure line, sir,’ the woman said, robotically.
‘I know.’
‘One moment.’
The phone crackled a little and a few seconds later a man answered. ‘SB Ops.’
‘Is that you, Mike?’
‘Bloody hell. Stratton?’
‘Yes.’
‘I can’t say I’d given up hope just yet, mate, knowing your knack for always turning up, but I was starting to get a little concerned.’
‘I should’ve left it a bit longer. I like the idea of you being concerned about me.’
‘Well, there are some here who had given up. We thought the slopes had got you. Where the hell are you?’
‘On board a cargo ship.’ Stratton looked at the chart desk behind the ship’s wheel. ‘The Orion. She’s in the Gulf of Aden, heading west along the transit corridor. I’ve been on holiday in Somalia. We were invited over by a bunch of pirates. Great bunch of lads. Not to mention their jihadi mates.’
‘Jesus. How’d you manage to end up there?’
‘Trying to put some space between ourselves and the Slope Secret Service. They were after the same thing.’
‘Yeah, we got that much from Prabhu.’
‘The Gurkhas OK?’
‘Yes. When they left you, they made it into Oman without a fuss. They weren’t sure whether you’d taken a boat or not. I take it Hopper’s with you?’
For a second Stratton couldn’t answer. He hesitated. Then said, ‘He didn’t make it.’
The line went silent for a moment. Stratton had the impression others were near the phone listening in.
‘That’s not good,’ said Mike. ‘I’ve just got off the phone with his missus assuring her you’d both soon show up. How’d it happen?’
‘Long story. Not the time right now. Basically, we ran into Al-Shabaab. The important news right now is Shabaab have what we came looking for. Dozens of them. And they’re going international. Soon as you can get me on to a navy ship, I’ll get you the details. But we have to move fast on this end. It’s a big campaign. There could be dozens of the things all over the world already, or heading that way. The guy we came to interview in Yemen, he’s one of the main players.’
‘Right,’ said Mike, his mind a whir. ‘Let me pass all that on to Ops and I’ll get back to you. The priority is getting you on to one of our boats.’
‘Roger that.’
‘It’s good to have you back, Stratton. This might sound odd, but, well, if anything ever happened to you, I’d start to think we might actually be losing.’
‘You’re not coming out of the closet, are you, Mike? Not that there’s anything wrong with that, but—’
‘Bollocks. Talk to you later.’
The line went dead. Stratton realised he was smiling and immediately wiped it away. He had no right to enjoy himself whatsoever.
He looked at the chart table to study the ship’s track neatly inside the GOA transit corridor and heading north into the Red Sea towards Suez.
He suddenly felt exhausted. The thought of lying down was alluring. But that dogged soldier in him resisted, for no particular reason. It felt like he was in the middle of some kind of desperate battle and he didn’t want to take the chance of going unconscious. But he decided to loosen up a little and grab some sleep while he had the time. While things stayed quiet because they could kick off again as soon as the nearest naval ship arrived. And it wouldn’t be that far away. The Navy would know where the Orion was now. They knew where every vessel in the corridor was. The Orion’s captain would have registered with the UK Maritime Trade Operations office before arriving in the Gulf and again the moment he had made contact with the pirates.
Stratton went to the bridge door and opened it. The girl stood outside the communications shack looking up at him.
‘Can I use the phone?’ she said.
‘Sure,’ he said, stepping aside.
‘All OK?’ she asked as she walked in.
Stratton thought she looked more exhausted than he had seen her look before. ‘Yes. I’m going to get my head down.’
‘You deserve it,’ she said.
‘You need a hand with that?’ He gestured at the radio equipment.
‘I’m fine,’ she said, picking up the handset.
‘Catch you later.’
‘Hey.’
Stratton paused in the doorway to look back at her.
‘Thanks. For everything. You’re an unusual man … that’s as in great.’
‘Needs must, that’s all.’
‘And all the rest,’ she said.
Stratton closed the door and headed down the stairs.
When he got to the bottom, he found two of the private security lads hanging around in the corridor outside the galley.
‘Anything I can do for you, sir?’ one of them asked.
‘You could steer me towards a bunk, if that’s OK. Anything will do.’
‘No probs,’ the young man said. ‘Name’s Andy.’
‘Good to meet you.’
‘This is Spike.’
Stratton nodded a hello.
‘Follow me,’ Andy said.
He briskly led the way back up the stairs to the first floor and along a short corridor. He opened a door and stepped back to allow Stratton entry. The small space looked homely. The bed had been freshly made and a man’s personal effects, including several pictures of the same woman in sexy clothing, adorned a mirror and built-in dresser.
‘You sure this is OK?’ Stratton asked.
‘He volunteered it, sir. No probs.’
Stratton nodded as his eyes fell on the clean white sheets of the narrow cot. It was calling to him.
‘Shower and heads are in there,’ the security lad said, pointing to a slender door in the corner. ‘’Elp yourself to anything – shampoo, the lot. He’ll have some spare clean overalls in that cupboard you can use.’
‘That’s very kind. Thank him for me please.’
‘I will. You have a good kip, sir. You need anything else, just ask for Andy and I’ll sort you out.’