“Have a good swim through the Iranian sludge,” Slade replied. “Remember to shower before you smoke!”
Killer wrinkled his nose at the petroleum stench emanating from their wetsuits. Climbing over the side he disappeared in the darkness, leaving Slade to the mercy of the Galaxus.
The deckhands were almost done securing the main hatches. That meant everyone was busy. Slade slunk through the shadows to the superstructure. He set up shop atop the bridge where he could see everything that was going on as well as listen to his bug on the bridge.
His expectation was that the activity aboard the Galaxus would wind down now that the cargo was secured. He was wrong.
The captain, a tall bull of a man, six-five if he was an inch, towered over his crew. He had no patience for the local dockworkers, whom he called lazy and incompetent. From what Slade saw, he was right. Still, now that his cargo was on board Slade was curious as to why the captain should be so overtly demanding. He appeared agitated by something, and nothing anyone could do was good enough.
The explanation for the captain’s discomfiture was as amusing as it was surprising. Half an hour later a limousine pulled alongside the freighter. The captain walked down the gangway to meet it. He opened the back door and held out his hand to someone in the car. Slade focused his binoculars on the cabin. The flash of sequins sparkled from the darkness; sequins attached to a dark blue dress. An elegant hand reached out and took the captain’s huge paw. The captain grinned widely, helping the slight, elegantly dressed woman from the limousine. It was Eva.
“Well, well, well, the plot thickens,” Slade muttered to himself, recording the scene on his digital binoculars. “Why are you personally supervising the shipment of a boatload of sand?”
The captain led Eva up the gangway and into the superstructure. Slade left his position, determined to find out what was so important about the cargo. The captain’s quarters were in the superstructure behind the bridge and the adjacent conference room. There was a small back door, actually a hatch, leading out to a small deck on the starboard side of the ship. There were several portholes for the captain’s cabin.
Slade dropped off the roof and put a bug in the porthole. Pressing a tiny button activated the transmitter. Their voices came distant but clear into his earbud.
“Not that I’m disappointed to see you dear but Bandar Abbas is a cesspool, especially the military harbor. The civilian side of the house is bad enough but this place — whew — why am I here?”
“Simple, Soekarno has an emotional attachment to this project. He’s been dreaming of this since he was a kid.”
“Really, this is all about the dreams of a kid from the ghetto?” the captain exclaimed. “That’s why I’m in a restricted harbor with Iranians crawling all over my ship and their religious crazies scaring the Hell out of my crew? I don’t buy it Eva; what’s more I don’t like it. I almost tossed one of those fanatic officers overboard for snooping around.”
“Don’t do that!” Eva scolded him, but in a softer tone she asked what they were looking for.
“I had the Vikes game on the bridge monitor,” the captain explained. “When the cameras cut to the sidelines and showed the cheerleaders he about had a cow. He wanted to rip the monitor of the wall! I almost picked his little ass up and tossed him overboard. Really, he was that close to taking a swim!” The captain held his meaty fingers together just short of touching.
Eva laughed and suggested they go outside and get some fresh air.
“If its fresh air you want this isn’t the place,” the captain told her. Glancing within, he caught sight of the captain and Eva just as they were heading toward the hatch leading out to the deck. Slade smoothly transitioned into the shadows. His black wetsuit hid him as effectively as any camouflage.
The hatch opened and the captain let Eva through first, continuing their conversation. “So are you going to tell me what this is all about or are you keeping me in the dark for a reason?” When she didn’t answer immediately he took her by the shoulders and gently but inexorably turned the tiny woman around to face him.
“Eva, we’re in one of the most backward, dangerous countries on the planet. We’re dealing with people who hate us, hate our lives and hate our civilization — and for what? I’m your husband; I have a right to know why we’re here don’t I?”
Eva crossed her arms over her bosom and frowned. Shaking her mane of black, perfectly coiffured hair, she emoted, “I hate this place as much as you do! I don’t like dealing with these people but there it is. This started as nothing more than what I told you: a shipment of sand for an eccentric billionaire’s childhood dream. I’m afraid it’s turning into something more than that.”
“What’s it turning into?”
Before she could answer the hatch to the cabin opened. In the frame stood a tall man in a military uniform. He was tall by local standards but still half a foot beneath the captain. The effect of his presence on Eva and the captain was immediate — and sobering — Colonel Nikahd.
“Good evening Eva. Good evening Captain Fletcher. Here you are.” He walked out onto the little deck, passing not three feet from Slade in the long, inky shadows. He smiled, and unknowingly turned his back on Slade. “Captain Fletcher, I expected to find you on the bridge.”
“Why?” the captain said carefully. “Our cargo is loaded and secured. We’re ready to go as ordered. What’s the problem Colonel? I assure you my crew has strict orders to remain aboard the ship. We realize how sensitive this port is; of course, we would rather have used the civilian port.”
“Captain, captain, I know you had no desire to come here and risk violating our sensitive military secrets over a load of sand; I completely understand. You have done nothing wrong.”
“Then what is this about?”
“It is simply that your mission has changed,” Colonel Nikahd informed him.
“Changed, what do you mean?” blurted Fletcher.
“Follow me, you are needed on the bridge — both of you,” the Iranian jihadi officer replied suavely. “If you please!”
Nikahd motioned for Eva and the captain to precede him. They re-entered the cabin and headed for the bridge.
Slade switched the channels in his earbud. Then he climbed back onto the roof. Cat footing across the steel structure Slade made his way carefully to the awning over the bridge. He reached it just as Fletcher and Eva reached the bridge. What they saw was enough to have Slade throw himself down flat on the roof of the bridge.
Eva and the captain gasped.
CHAPTER 30: Nikahd Takes the Helm
Slade stifled a curse. His ‘vanilla mission’ had taken a turn for the worse. Running up the gangway and lining the deck were several hundred Iranian troops. He recognized their black uniforms and green checkered schmaugs: the Republican Guard, the jihadists, the maddest of the mad.
A crane was busy loading a very large container in an empty hold. Captain Fletcher was angry. “What the Hell are they loading on my ship and why are all these troops here? I’m carrying sand for a frigging zoo — sand — what’s this all about?”
“Do not worry captain, everything is fine, but we will need your ship for an ulterior mission. We will leave as soon as possible, in fact here is the harbor pilot,” Nikahd smiled as an Iranian naval officer entered the bridge. The officer saluted. Nikahd only nodded. He turned back to Captain Fletcher.
“I suggest you get down to the business of leaving port. The sooner you do this the better it will be for you and your very lovely wife.”
“My wife?” Captain Fletcher said hesitantly.