Tears formed in Qafar’s eyes. He could only hope that he would be rewarded for the deeds he’d done against the infidels. His lungs started to lock up, filling with fluid. He coughed again and winced against the pain.
Nasir stepped close and pointed his gun at Qafar’s forehead. “It’s nothing personal, old friend.” He squeezed the trigger.
Qafar toppled over backward. His lifeless eyes stared up at the opening in the ceiling as a single cloud passed in front of the moon.
16
Sean looked through his binoculars at the busy pier. Men were rushing around, loading crates from trucks similar to the ones from Toli’s compound.
Forklifts made quick work of the heavy payloads — removing the crates from the transport and placing them in a yellow square next to what appeared to be a huge commercial fishing vessel. Others were being loaded onto a couple of yachts, a merchant shipping vessel, and a smaller commercial fishing ship.
The driver hadn’t been lying. Toli’s men were using a variety of boats to avoid detection.
“Gotta give it to Toli,” Sean said, “pretty smart to use fishing boats like that one. No one would suspect.”
Tommy, Emily, and Fitz were all watching the same scene through similar lenses.
The driver was tied up in the back of the truck with a cloth strapped to his mouth so he couldn’t scream. Sean had given him additional incentive to stay quiet by promising him a bullet in the throat if he made so much as a squeak. The driver nodded that he understood and had behaved himself thus far.
“So how do we stop them?” Fitz asked. “The workers aren’t armed from what I can tell.”
“But those guys on the watchtowers and on the ships are,” Emily pointed out.
“Yeah,” Sean agreed. “I noticed that.”
“What is with all these dudes and AK-47s?” Tommy asked.
“Cheap and easy to get,” Emily and Sean both answered at the same time. They glanced at each other with a smirk, and then went back to scanning the pier.
“There are too many of them,” Sean said. “At least for the four of us.”
“Agreed,” Emily said. “I count forty, and that’s just the ones we can see. There’ll be more aboard the ships.”
“If we can draw their attention somewhere else, we might be able to get on board the ships and disable them.”
“What good will that do?” Tommy asked. “They’ll fix them and be out to sea before dark.”
“It could buy us some time, though.”
“Time for what?”
Fitz interrupted. “There’s a U.S. ship about a hundred miles off the coast from here. My guess is that’s where Fletch and his men were taken. If we could get a call in to them, they might just be able to get here before these ships leave. That is, if we can disable them long enough for the Navy to arrive.”
“I like it,” Sean said. “Any objections?”
No one said anything.
“Good. So what are we going to use for a diversion?” His eyes wandered to the back of the transport truck.
Emily followed his gaze and snorted a short laugh. “So we’re going to use the same gag again?”
Sean shook his head. “No. You don’t do the same gag twice. You do the next gag.”
“So what’s the next gag?”
A mischievous glimmer filled his eyes. “Let’s untie our friend in the back.”
Sean climbed over the tailgate and sat on the bench in the cargo area. He looked down at the driver who was bound with his wrists behind his back. The man appeared as though he’d perspired half a gallon of sweat. His shirt was soaked, and moisture trickled down his forehead in several rivulets.
Sean turned to Fitz and asked for a bottle of water. He untied the driver’s hands and then gave him the bottle. “Now don’t do anything stupid like scream for help. Okay?” Sean wagged his pistol at the man.
The driver’s head shook vigorously, and he gulped down the entire bottle in less than six seconds.
Sean went on. “Now, my friends and I have a little job for you to do.”
“A job?”
“Yep. We want you to drive up to the gate and act like you’re making your delivery as scheduled.”
“But the crates? My truck is empty.”
Sean waved his free hand in the air. “Don’t worry about that. They aren’t going to check. Just drive up to the gate and act cool. They’re going to let you in. When you get inside, tell them that there were no more shipments when you arrived in Mbeya. We’ll take care of the rest.”
The driver wasn’t sure. “They’ll think I stole the boxes.”
Sean could see he was dubious and reassured him. “By the time they start asking questions, my friends and I will be inside. You saw what we did to Toli’s army, right?”
The man’s head bobbed up and down rapidly. He remembered exactly what he’d seen and had no intention of crossing the Americans. Just in case, however, Sean gave him a little reminder.
“And if you for a second think about taking this truck and running away, my friends and I will chase you down and kill you. Understood?”
“Yes. Clearly.” There was genuine fear in the driver’s eyes. Sean was certain of that.
“Okay. Good. Let’s get you set up.”
Sean hopped out of the back followed by the driver.
They walked around to the cab and stopped. Sean pointed at the road that wound around a grassy median. It led down to the gate where there were men standing guard with assault rifles. “Take this street down to the gate, and do as I said. And don’t worry. It will all be over soon. When it is, you can go free. We will be over there at that small building.” He pointed to what looked like a storage facility made out of cinderblocks. “When I give you the signal, head to the gate.”
The driver acknowledged the directions with a nod and climbed up into the cab. Sean stepped back and joined the other three.
The engined rumbled to life, and the driver looked down at them. He gave a thumbs-up.
“Time to get into position,” Sean said to the others.
The four Americans jogged down the right-hand sidewalk toward the storage building and waited in the shadows at the corner behind a row of bushes.
“You sure this is gonna work?” Emily asked. “I mean, what if he takes off?”
Sean glanced at Tommy. “You cut the brake line, right?”
Tommy nodded. “Yeah. Second time he hits the brakes, nothing’s gonna happen.”
Sean smirked. “If he tries to get away, Agent Starks, he’s going to have a very short trip.”
He stood up and waved his hand so the driver could see. The man in the truck nodded and shifted into gear. He stepped on the gas, accelerated slowly around the curve, and began the descent down the hill. About fifty yards from the gate, he hit the brakes and slowed down a bit. The truck coasted by the four Americans crouching behind the bushes and continued rolling.
“Okay, let’s go. Brisk but casual.”
They stood up and started walking down the sidewalk at a moderately quick pace with weapons tucked away so no one could see.
The truck picked up speed as it neared the gate. The brake lights flashed over and over again as the driver tried to slow his speed.
Down at the foot of the hill, the guards at the gate were waving their arms furiously in a vain attempt to get the driver to stop. At the last second, they dove out of the way as the truck smashed into the blockade, plowed through it, and kept rolling onto the pier. The guards recovered immediately and rushed after the runaway truck. They slowed momentarily to fire their weapons and then took off again.
The gate had done little to slow the truck. It barreled ahead at full speed toward the edge of the wharf. There were more men standing between the oncoming vehicle and a shipping vessel. They ran to both sides, barely avoiding being crushed. The truck rumbled by and rammed the first boat in its port side. Workers and guards ran to the scene as smoke began billowing out of the engine. Before anyone got to it, a fire ignited and started burning.