“You were uncomfortable and figured you’d play me as your trump card.” The Israeli smiled a bitter smile. “How is that working out? Do you think Al-Shabaab is going to buy your way out?” He shook his head. “Or will they just let you rot down here in the ass end of nowhere.”

  “You know where we are?”

  “Of course.” Carmel shook his head at the other man’s ignorance. “We’re in Somalia, south of Mogadishu and a little north of Kismaayo—somewhere on the edge of the so-called Jubaland region.”

  “How do you know all that?”

  “I try to keep up to date on the followers of the Religion of Peace…”

  “Now, Moshe…”

  “No talk, Edward.” The Israeli shook his head. “You showed exactly how important peace and brotherhood were to you on that ship.” He turned to one of the bunks set on a far wall. “I expected more of you. Far more.” He sat down and leaned against the wall. “I guess I’m not as smart as my friends think.” He closed his eyes and signed, his body language showing just how disappointed he was.

  ***

  “They’re where?” Flame stared at the map on the laptop, trying to remember what he’d heard about Somalia when he’d been in the teams.

  “They came ashore just north of Kismaayo—in the Jubaland region.”

  “Jubaland,” Aesop cut in. “I remember something about that. It’s where Al-Shabaab fought back against peacekeepers from Ethiopia and grabbed a bunch of key towns and ports.” He nodded. “They got the Ethiopians to pull out and set up Islamic Courts.” He stopped. “I thought the Somalis took the city back a couple of years ago…”

  “That’s what the book says.” Bivens shrugged. “But the situation on the ground looks a lot more complicated. I would assume that nobody is in charge down there.”

  “Government through a gun.” Flame nodded. “We’ve seen that before.”

  “Just remember that you don’t have enough guns to make much of a difference,” Dana said as she appeared on the screen beside Bivens.

  “Enough to get our two targets out, maybe.”

  “Maybe.” She nodded. “But if it goes bad…”

  “We’ll get out as quickly as we can.” Flame nodded. “The rest of the plan looks straightforward enough. We’ll move out,” he glanced at his watch, “at oh-three-hundred local time—that’ll get us down while it’s still dark but give the chopper some daylight to land on the frigate.”

  “Be careful, Flame. The place is a deathtrap…”

  “Death is sorta our business, isn’t it?” Flame flashed his partner an innocent smile. “We’ll try to only kill the right people.”

  “Flame!”

  “See you later, Dana.” He switched off before she could object. “Has the chopper pilot been briefed?” he asked, turning to Marmor.

  “He knows he’s to drop you two off at the designated spot and return to the ship.” Marmor shrugged. “What else does he need to know?”

  “Aesop?”

  “I’ll be there when you’re ready to leave.” The big ex-SEAL frowned. “You know it’s going to take me hours to get there by sea—are you sure I can’t just jump with you guys…”

  “No chance.” Flame shook his head. “You’ve done pretty well with that leg so far, but I don’t want to risk trying it out in a jump,” he nodded at Fixer. “Particularly a low-altitude jump. You know how much torque is involved, if the leg malfunctions…”

  “I know, I know.” Aesop threw up his hands. “I’ll take the boat in.”

  “Good.” Flame sat back. “I believe Fixer has arranged for dinner. I just hope he doesn’t go too far with the waitress—at least not while we’re aboard her ship.”

  “Dinner with a show.” Aesop grinned. “That sounds like fun!”

  “Flame?” Marmor leaned forward. “A word?”

  “Sure, Mr. Marmor.”

  “Privately?”

  “Mr. Marmor, I am trusting these men with my life. I doubt you have any secrets that I am willing to believe are worth more.”

  “I gave my word on this one—even telling you is a violation.”

  “Oh.” Flame glanced at his two friends, saw them nod. “Okay, let’s walk outside. I’d like to have a look at the weather anyway…”

  ***

  Later, as the helicopter carried them toward the Somalian shore, Fixer asked the obvious question: “What did Marmor want?” The marine used his earbud to ask the question, knowing that only he and Flame were on the line at present. “Something I should know?”

  “He’s got a friend in Mogadishu. A retired agent from way back in the day.” He glanced out the window into the blackness of the ocean. “If all else fails, we can call on this friend.”

  “Not much in the way of support.”

  “More than either of us have had on some missions, right?”

  “Right.” Fixer leaned back. “How much am I earning on this job, Flame?”

  “Same rate as last time.” The big ex-SEAL was puzzled by the question. “Maybe a bonus if we pull this off. Why?”

  “I’m thinking of taking a little vacation after we’re done.”

  “Oh.” Flame nodded. “And the weather in Australia is really nice this time of year, right?”

  “Actually, it’s coming on winter.” Fixer grinned. “Too cold for anything other than indoor sports.”

  Flame shook his head and grinned as the chopper crossed the coast at treetop height to avoid radar contact.

  ***

  As Flame and Fixer circled to their drop zone, Aesop set off from the aft deck of the Toowoomba. He would have liked having a Mark V Special Operations Craft for the mission but he would have to content himself with a Zodiac equipped with some special gear including a rather elaborate electronics suite.

  At least it’s fast enough to get me there in time, he told himself as he pushed off. And I don’t have to row!

  He set his GPS to keep him pointed in the right direction and goosed the engine—it was a special design and very quiet.

  Somalia, he told himself. Here I come!

  ***

  They’re nearing the jump zone, Dana told herself as she watched the play of red, yellow and green that was all Bivens could pull up through his infra-red monitor. She had activated the satellite link that would give the entire team communication through their earbuds and the little radios they fed. With luck, they would be in range for the entire mission.

  “Over target.” Flame’s voice suddenly came from the speaker. “Chopper’s climbing to minimum jump altitude.”

  Dana knew that Flame planned to jump from 350 feet, which was theoretically safe enough for experienced jumpers. It also had the advantage of exposing the helicopter and the jumpers for the shortest possible length of time.

  It would be fine as long as they didn’t land in some kind of unexpected terrain.

  “Ten seconds,” Flame’s voice came again. “In the doorway…”

  There was a huff of expelled air as Flame pushed himself away, then a long second passed before…

  “Chute’s open…” There was a short pause. “Fixer's too.” Another pause. “Ground’s coming up fast…”

  There was a confused jumble of sounds: bumps, scrapes, muttered curses, then: “We’re down and seem to be in one piece.” Dana nodded slowly. They had accomplished the first step of the mission.

  “Hiding the chutes now.” Flame was breathing hard. “Ground is soft—lots of trees and bushes…” There was a muttered voice. “Fixer says that this must be the rainy season—ground is really wet.”

  “It’s monsoon season,” Bivens put in on his own mike. “The Southwest Monsoons, which they call the ‘gu rains,’ begin in April and last until June.”

  “Good,” Flame answered. “Rain’d give us good cover.” There was a rustle. “It’s not raining now, though. I hope nobody saw our paravanes…”

  “Unlikely.” Dana kept her voice level. “People in that area are farmers and fishermen.” She shrugged. “They go to bed early and rise with the sun.”

  “Okay, I’ll buy that.” Dana could hear him chuckle. “Now, when do the pirates go to bed and get up?”

  “Okay, wise guy.” She shook her head. “Enough jokes—the quicker you find the targets, the quicker we can get you out of there.”

  “And the quicker,” Fixer put in, “I can go on vacation!”

  “What’s that about?” Dana asked.

  “It’s about a pretty blonde ensign who goes on leave when her ship gets back to Australia.” Flame answered. “Fixer plans to spend a little time with her.”

  “He’s a smarter man than some I know.” The sentence came out a little harder than Dana had intended, but… “Isn’t that right, Flame?”

  “Moving out now,” he said, ignoring the jibe. “Bivens—where are we going?”

  “Head east until you can see the ocean, I’ll compare your position with my best approximation of the pirate’s camp at that point.”

  “Roger that.” Flame grunted as he shouldered his pack. “Speak soon.”

  The line went silent.

  ***

  Aesop shook his head as he heard Dana’s last words. She’s a smart cookie, he thought. She knows that Flame has to snap out of his funk with that girl.

  He just wished she wouldn’t have pushed him quite that hard.

  Flame is not the kind of guy to respond well to heavy handedness, Aesop knew. He’s got to be nudged in the right direction, otherwise he’ll fight back.

  Still, whether he was shoved or nudged, this problem had to be resolved—and soon. Aesop had seen how poorly Flame slept. The only time he gets any rest is when we’re out on a mission. He shook his head. And not much even then!

  I’ll see how hard I can nudge him when we get home, Aesop decided. Assuming we both manage that trick!

  The coast of Somalia was just visible as a dark blot on the horizon. Aesop knew he’d have to find a protected place to hide the Zodiac before the sun rose.

  I wish we had better intel for this one, he told himself. I hate going in blind!

  He increased the Zodiac’s speed just a little—every minute, he knew, was going to count.

  ***

  Edward Said woke in the very early hours of the morning. He was sure he’d heard a helicopter fly overhead.

  Very low overhead.

  The Somalis don’t have any aircraft, he told himself. Perhaps my friend the captain actually did call on Al-Shabaab and they’re on their way to meet—or perhaps ISIS heard about my offer… He sniffed. Or perhaps the Mossad has tracked us down. That, he knew, would be delicate for him.

  Whoever it was will show up here sooner or later. He began to run scenarios in his head. I’ll have to be ready…

  ***

  The pirates also listened as the helicopter went over. Their captain was afraid that it was some foreign government who had discovered what they had done.

  They’ll kill us if these hostages are who they say they are, the captain told himself. And I cannot just contact Al-Shabaab or anyone like them—they would merely come and take the captives without paying…

  He shrugged.

  Or they might just kill me and my men to keep us quiet.

  He knew the only solution was to take the men to Mogadishu where he could find someone who could negotiate for a proper ransom. But how can I get there safely with all three men…

  He knew he couldn’t use his boat—it would be searched before being allowed to dock. If his hostages spoke up—and he was sure they would—he would lose them and the money they represented. No. He shook his head. I will travel overland. That meant tapping into family’s assets. My sister’s husband has a truck; I will have to borrow it. A frown crossed his brow as he thought of the kind of man his sister’s husband was. Or, more likely, rent it.

  Either way, the faster he brought these troublesome men to the big city, the better it would be for him. I will send my son to talk to his aunt as soon as the sun rises. Allah willing, we will be on our way soon after.

  He settled back into his bedding, and listened for movement outside. It was still possible that the helicopter would deliver some kind of trouble to his doorstep…

  ***

  Flame and Fixer reached a point where they could see the beach just as the sun peeked over the horizon. It had taken them far longer to work their way through the heavily overgrown jungle area than they had anticipated. Long enough for them to lose their best ally—the night.

  “In position,” Flame intoned. “Where are they, Bivens?”

  “Look to your right,” the computer expert’s voice came clear and sharp even though he was nearly eight thousand miles away. “You should see the remains of a pier.”

  “Got it.” Flame’s binoculars focused on a skeleton formed by several half-finished wooden posts driven into the seabed.

  A smallish boat was tied up to one of the posts.

  “That ship you see is the one our pirates used.” There was a long pause. “If there’s no one aboard, you’re going to have to look for a camp of some kind. My best guess is that it would be nearby.”

  “What does your infra-red tell you?”

  “It’s useless. The whole area is too hot for me to get an accurate read.”

  “Okay.” Flame motioned for Fixer to follow him. “We’ll do this the hard way.”

  It didn’t take long for them to reach the boat. They boarded it from opposite sides, weapons hot and ready.

  To no avail—the boat was empty although it showed signs of recent occupation.

  “I can’t believe they had ten or twelve men in this thing.” Fixer shook his head. “Where did they sleep?”

  “On the deck.” Flame smiled. “Under the stars.”

  “It’s monsoon season.”

  “Yeah.” Flame motioned for the other man to follow him back to shore. “I didn’t say it was perfect.”

  “What now?”

  “I can see a couple of huts up there,” Flame said, and nodded ahead. “Let’s go check them out.”

  “And if they open fire on us?”

  “We shoot back.” Flame shrugged. “Nothing else we can do.”

  “God, I hope we don’t start a war.”

  “With who?” Flame snorted. “You think the Somalis are going to declare war on the US of A?”

  “On us, you ass.” Fixer checked his M4 for the twentieth time. “On us.”

  “Might be fun.” He moved quickly across the beach, took cover behind an overturned small boat. “Better than fighting the Iranians.”

  “We kicked their ass!”

  “We sure did.” Flame motioned for Fixer to move to the next bit of cover—a wooden crate sitting next to what he assumed was a fire pit of some kind. “They should be singing songs about us!”

  Fixer sped across the exposed space, skidded behind the crate. “Do they do that kind of thing anymore? I thought the Barry Sadler Ballad of the Green Berets was the end of that era.”

  “Green beanies got way too much credit.” Flame broke cover and ran to the nearest hut, flattening himself beside the door. “And that movie really sucked.”

  “And Navy Seals didn’t?” Flame moved to a point opposite him, reaching out to touch the doorknob.

  “We don’t talk about that.” Flame held up five fingers, curled one closed, then another. “We prefer Zero Dark Thirty and Lone Survivor.”

  His pinky curled into his fist and Fixer turned the knob and pushed the door open, following Flame as the big man exploded into the room.

  Which appeared to be empty.

  “We’re too late.”

  “There are three more huts like this one.”

  “Yeah, but look at this.” He pointed to a scarf lying on the floor at one end. “That’s a Palestinian keffiyeh—I recognize the colors.”

  “Said was here.”

  “Not anymore. I wonder… ”

  Both men whirled as a scratching sound came from behind them.

  “Don’t move!” Flame trained his AK on a bed in the corner—the only spot in the room that he couldn’t see clearly. “Come out now!”

  There was another scratching noise as a hand appeared from under the bed—then another.

  “It’s only a kid.” Fixer dropped his M4 a bit.

  “Kids killed a shitload of troops in Afghanistan.” Flame’s rifle didn’t waver. “Make sure this one isn’t armed or wired.”

  They waited for the youngster—no more than eight or nine—to worm his way out from under the bed then Fixer, with Flame still covering the boy, searched him very carefully.

  “He’s clean.”

  “Of weapons,” Flame commented, and wrinkled his nose. “You’d think a kid in a fishing village would wash once in a while.” He shook his head. “Ask him who he is.”

  Fixer did so, his Arabic accent showing enough of the American South to bring the shadow of a smile to Flame’s lips.

  “My father…” The boy’s own Arabic was not good, peppered with slang words and bits of other African tongues.

  “Where is your father?” Fixer leaned in close. “Where has he gone?”

  “My father took Uncle’s truck and went…” The boy pointed to the north. “That way.”

  “How many did he take with him?”

  “Three from his crew and three others.”

  “He brought these others back from his last cruise, didn’t he?”

  The boy said nothing.

  “All right.” Flame sighed and ticked his earbud on. “We missed them,” he announced. “They left via truck sometime after dawn.”

  “I’ll see what I can find out,” Bivens' voice answered promptly. “For now, you two better exfiltrate.”

  “Right.” Flame looked out of the open door. A few men were beginning to gather in front of the other houses. It was possible they might try to make trouble. “Where’s Aesop?”

  “You think I haven’t been paying attention?” The SEAL’s voice boomed through the earbud. “Turn around, asshole—I just tied up at that wrecked pier you investigated a few minutes ago.” There was a brief chuckle. “I’m waiting for you!”