“Roger that.” Flame smiled and signaled to Fixer. “On the way.”

  Moments later, the three men were in the Zodiac and headed out to sea, as the men in the pirate camp watched, too confused to do anything else.

  ***

  “You want to do what!” Dana’s astonishment was reflected in her face on the laptop screen. Flame had contacted her as soon as he was sure they were safely away from the Somali coast. Aesop gave the Zodiac just close enough to keep her—and their satellite link—stable.

  “Look.” Flame peered into the screen. “Unless Bivens can find that truck, there’s no other way for us to proceed.”

  “You want to allow the pirates to capture you.” Dana shook her head. “Do you know how stupid that sounds? What do you think they’d do with a couple of Navy SEALs?”

  “I don’t mean for them to really capture us.” Flame shook his head. “Not the real Somalis anyway.”

  “Just what do you mean.”

  “Get in touch with Marmor and set up a conference. We can talk then.”

  “Where will you be?”

  “Right where I am.” Flame grinned. “Or at least, more or less where I am—bobbing around in the swell a few miles offshore.”

  “Right.” Dana gave one of her more decisive nods. “We’ll get a link to Marmor then get back to you.” She shook her head. “Just don’t do anything stupid in the meantime.”

  The screen went dark.

  “Do you really mean to get us captured?” Aesop’s eyes searched those of his friend. “I mean…”

  “Marmor has a contact in Mogadishu—another of his Sinope guys. If we can reach that contact, get him to bring us in…”

  “And turn us in at one of the pirate lock-ups as a potential ransom…” Aesop nodded. “Yeah, that might allow you to find Said and Carmel—assuming you all end up in the same place—but how are you going to get out?”

  “The way we usually do.” Flame shrugged. “You’ll give us some cover—you did bring a Barrett, right?”

  “With the other gear.”

  “We’ll break out of their lock-up with your help.” A tiny grin crossed his face. “It might mean killing a few of the pirates…”

  “That would be a shame, wouldn’t it?”

  “One question.” Fixer had been silent up to this point. “Were you going to ask me before you got us locked up?”

  “Sorry,” Flame turned to the marine. “Will you go with me into a shitty, dangerous place where we have a really good chance of getting killed?”

  “Sure,” Fixer grinned. “I thought you’d never ask.”

  ***

  “We can’t arrange for you to ‘accidentally’ run into a pirate vessel,” Marmor noted when the conference call started. “It’s the wrong season—they mostly stay on shore during the rains.”

  “What can we do?” Flame’s lips tightened. “If we do nothing, we lose your negotiators for sure.”

  Marmor glanced around. “I was able to make contact with my friend in Somalia. I’m told that if you can manage a rendezvous, it might be possible to slip you into one of the areas where various hostages are being held.” The rotund Brit shrugged. “It’s the best chance we can put together.”

  “Arrange a meeting—Bivens can find a place for us to go ashore.” Flame looked around. “Try to make it as near sundown as you can—I don’t want to advertise our presence any more than I have to.”

  “Right.” Marmor nodded. “Mr. Bivens and I will put our heads together and get back to you directly.”

  “Do you have the gear you’ll need?” Dana asked.

  “Yeah.” Flame nodded. “I think we can manage if we don’t get too thoroughly searched and if we can keep Aesop hidden.”

  “Okay.” Dana took a deep breath. “The admiral says that you should go for it if you think there’s a chance to make it work. I’m not so sure he’s right, but…”

  “I understand.” Flame smiled. “Just find us a nice place to slip into the city—we’ll do the rest.”

  “Be careful, Flame.”

  “I’m never careful…”

  “I know,” Dana cut him off. “But this time be cautious and careful—please?”

  The screen went dead.

  ***

  “All right.” Bivens resumed contact a long hour later. “There’s a petroleum products storage farm east and slightly north of the airport. Marmor’s contact says it’s partially abandoned and seldom guarded. There are several abandoned docking slips there that are covered enough to hide the Zodiac.”

  The screen split horizontally and a map appeared.

  “The contact will meet you at the marked road—the one that passes the western corner of the facility at precisely six p.m. local time, just after sunset.”

  “Can he get us to the place where they’re holding the hostages?”

  “Not sure. Apparently there's more than one.” Bivens shrugged. “He’ll do whatever he can. By the time you meet him, I’ll have a better briefing package ready.”

  “Good.” Flame smiled. “Wish us luck.”

  “You’re gonna need it.” The computer expert raised a hand in salute before blanking the screen.

  “You heard the man, Aesop. Can you get us into this petroleum farm?”

  “Sure.” The big SEAL unfolded his chart, and then had a quick look at the horizon. “Making it before six this evening…” He shrugged. “We’ll see.” He turned the little boat to the east and increased speed. “It’s gonna be close.”

  ***

  By five-fifteen, they were within a few miles of Mogadishu—and it was raining so hard that they couldn’t quite make it out.

  “These are the gu rains Eric mentioned before.” Aesop had his night vision goggles on, hoping that he would see a heat source before he ran into it. “Really heavy and hard to navigate through.”

  “Great cover for us, though.” Flame was working the GPS. “Petroleum dump is about three miles that way.” He pointed slightly to their left. “Be good if we got there before the rain lets up.”

  They did—maneuvering past a rusty boom that blocked part of the entrance to the tank farm just as the rain stopped as if shut off by a spigot.

  “There’re some docking facilities over that way.” Flame gestured to his left. “Maybe we can find a place to hide this beast there.”

  Aesop maneuvered the Zodiac under the big wharf that was used for offloading oil or whatever else a shipper might want. Beyond was a series of smaller slips, some of them covered over by the dock area above.

  “Try one of those,” Fixer said, and pointed to their right. “I can see a couple of other small boats in there…”

  “Watch your time.” Flame glanced at his watch. “We don’t want to miss the rendezvous.”

  Aesop grunted as he took the boat past a low-hanging ladder and slipped it into a tiny space at the far end of the dock area. It would be almost invisible to anyone taking a casual look.

  “Nice job, man.” Flame slapped his friend on the back. “Now let’s grab out stuff and find our connection.”

  The three men shouldered their packs, Flame slipping the strap for the large case that held the Barrett over one shoulder. Together they climbed up the ladder to the dock above and headed toward the airport.

  “Five minutes.” Flame adjusted their path slightly. “I can see the road…”

  As the three men approached, a rather worn Volkswagen Bus pulled up in front of them.

  “Get in and get down as low as you can,” a voice speaking flawless Arabic called from inside. “There aren’t many white faces in this town.”

  “You’re Marmor’s friend?” Aesop asked in the same language as he pulled the door open and slid in, slouching so as to keep himself below the window level.

  “I have never met the man,” said a pretty young black woman, and smiled at him. “However, he and my mother have always been very close…”

  ***

  “They’ve arrived,” Bivens told Dana. “And it appears they connected with Mr. Marmor’s associate.”

  “Good.” She looked over the data he had posted to her screen. “Do we have good communications?”

  “There’s a solid satellite link,” he reported. “That should stay in place as long as we need it.”

  “Excellent.” She leaned back in her chair. “If everything is going so well, why do you look so worried?”

  “I did a work-up on Somalia while we were with the Agency.” Bivens shook his head. “It’s a really screwed-up place. All kinds of factions scattered across the country, no two of them looking for the same thing.”

  “You don’t think Flame and the others should have gone.”

  “I just don’t think the prize is big enough for the gamble.” He turned back to his computer. “But nobody asked me.”

  “Eric.” Dana stood and put a hand on his shoulder. “I don’t like it either but in the field…”

  “Flame is boss.” The analyst nodded. “I know that, it’s just…”

  “You feel slighted.” Dana nodded. “I get that.” She squeezed. “And I’ll try to make sure it doesn’t happen again—okay?”

  “Okay.” He gave her a rueful smile.

  “Keep track of them, will you?” Dana stood up. “I have a meeting with the admiral—we have to figure out an exit strategy in case this all goes bad.”

  ***

  “My apartment is the third on the left once you get to the second floor. When I stop, get out and make your way upstairs.” She glanced at Aesop in the seat alongside her. “Please try to be as unobtrusive as you can.”

  “Yes ma’am.” He grinned. “I will be as quiet as a mouse.”

  The girl snorted and pulled the car to the side of the road. “Get out now.” She watched as the three large men piled out, then pulled away.

  “That's her building.” Flame pointed to their goal. “Come on.” The three of them hustled across the street and inside where they were met by a battered staircase and near-utter darkness.

  “Do we need night vision?” Aesop whispered.

  “Just head up—the second floor, the lady said.”

  “What do you think is the relationship between her mother and Marmor?” Fixer wondered out loud. “I mean, can you imagine that ball of lard with anyone who might have produced our contact?”

  “Just go up the stairs.” Flame gestured. “Please?”

  The three of them headed up the stairs, walking at the edges of each step to minimize squeaks. The precaution didn’t seem to do much good, the stairs squeaked and squawked at each step, almost as if they were designed to do so.

  “I read about something called ‘a nightingale floor’ in Japan—it was in Kyoto, I believe.” Aesop said, his voice low. “That kind of floor was used in the hallways of some temples and palaces, most famously in Nijō Castle.” He reached the landing and turned, waiting for the others. “Dry boards naturally creak under pressure, but they designed the floors in the castle so that the nails that held the boards in place rubbed against a jacket or clamp, causing chirping noises.”

  “The point?” Flame said, looking around.

  “The squeaking floors were used as a security device, assuring that none could sneak through the corridors undetected.” Aesop checked the doors around him. “I wonder if these are the same.”

  “They’re not,” Fixer said. “They’re just old boards that a lot of people have walked on.” He shook his head and muttered to himself. “Nightingale floors…”

  “Which door?” There were three on each side of the hallway.

  “Third on the left, she said.” Aesop pointed. “That one.”

  The three men crept down the hall, which squeaked just as much as the staircase.

  “She didn’t pass us.” Flame looked at the door. “Should we knock?” He looked at Aesop and shrugged. “I don’t do that too often in the field.”

  “Nor will you today, young man,” a voice came from beyond the door which was opening in front of him. “Come in, quickly.”

  An elderly woman stood in front of them. She was tall for a woman in this part of Africa—perhaps five feet nine or ten and was wearing loose-fitting western clothing.

  “Hurry.” She swung the door wide. “Before one of my neighbors decides to see who’s making all the noise!”

  The three entered the apartment, nodding at the imperious old woman whose voice held the crack of one who was long accustomed to command.

  ***

  “Most of the world,” she told Flame and his team after seeing them settled into the spotless couch that dominated the tiny living room, “think that Somali piracy is a thing of the past. They believe that more patrols by international navies, the hardening of vessels, the use of private armed security teams and the stabilizing influence of Somalia’s central government have beaten the pirates into submission.” She shook her head. “Do not believe that. The pirates are still there—it is just that,” she paused, and smiled ruefully. “Most of them are retired and living in expensive condos in Kenya.”

  Flame smiled. The old woman—her name was Saba—had taken the opportunity to brief his team while they waited for her daughter to return.

  “I thought that captured pirates were turned over to the Kenyans for trial,” Aesop put in. “At least that’s what the newspapers in the US say.”

  “That is the theory.” Saba smiled. “But Kenya, despite having the most powerful democracy in East Africa, doesn't have an effective court system.” She paused for a moment as the teakettle whistled its readiness and signaled the men to wait while she prepared the tea. “When Britain's first batch of eight captured pirates went on trial in Mombasa some years ago,” she resumed upon her return to the living room, “the defense argued that Kenya had no jurisdiction and persuaded the judge to defer the trial.” She poured a cup for Flame “Those men are still in Kenya—in one of the condos I mentioned — waiting for a trial that will never come.” She served Fixer, and poured a second cup for Aesop before pouring a cup for herself. “Piracy is big business here—the money is very good and the risk is very small.”

  “I see.” Flame nodded slowly. “I know there are still captured seamen held hostage…”

  “More than your western press would have you think.” Saba took a small sip from her teacup. “Many of the hostages are from poor countries that will not pay ransom. They have little hope of ever leaving Somalia alive. The men you are seeking, however, would seem to be in a totally different category…” She smiled as her daughter came through a back door the men had not seen. “Mark has briefed me on the situation and Aasiya here,” she said as she gestured at the girl, “has spent a great deal of her time searching for information.”

  “The pirate captain who took your friends…”

  “Not our friends,” Fixer put in. “We’ve never met them.”

  “The pirate who took the two men you are looking for,” she corrected herself with a glare at the interruption, “is normally just a fisherman. His village, however, has recently fallen upon hard times.”

  “Do you know who he is?” Flame put in.

  “He is of the Dir clan.” She shrugged. “I cannot give you his name but I can tell you that he has a number of cousins in Galmudug—it is to these cousins that he has taken his hostages.”

  “Galmudug.” Aesop spoke the word slowly, careful of his pronunciation. “Isn’t that where a lot of the pirate hostages ended up over the last few years?”

  “Many ended up in or around Hobyo, an ancient seaport city.” Aasiya nodded. “The cousins I speak of have holdings just south of the city—it is there your two…” She glanced at Fixer. “…Subjects are currently being held.”

  “How many cousins are there?”

  “Perhaps twenty.” Aasiya shrugged. “It is the rainy season, there could be more.”

  “You must be careful of these men,” Saba interjected. “They are the most callous and bloodthirsty of the pirates. I know for a fact that they executed three Thai seamen earlier this year because their company would not pay a ransom for them.” She leaned forward. “They are dangerous.”

  “I understand.” Flame nodded. “But we have to try this. Can you show us how to get there?”

  “You cannot move through Mogadishu alone.” Saba shook her head. “You would be noticed and, perhaps, attacked.”

  “We can use our Zodiac, move up along the shoreline…”

  “You would be seen and challenged.”

  “There must be a way.”

  “Are you determined to play this game out to the end?” Saba shook her head. “Mark says that you will but I wonder if you know just how dangerous it will be…”

  “We have to try.” Flame looked into the old woman’s eyes. “It is our job.”

  She weighed his statement for a moment, and then slowly nodded. “We will help you.” A small smile crossed her lips. “My daughter and I have a certain…” She shrugged. “Reputation.”

  “When the warlords began to steal most of the food the UN sent in, my mother and I, along with a few friends, waylaid some of the boats before they made shore and stole their cargo before those waiting on shore had the opportunity.” Aasiya grinned. “We made sure it got to those who needed it most.”

  “You’re pirates too!” Aesop chuckled.

  “And the Dir clan knows it—although they think we sold the food.” Saba shook her head. “They think of us as members of the clan because of my husband…”

  “Your husband?”

  “He was among the first of the clan to take to the sea to feed his people. He did well until…” Her face became very still. “Until his first mate decided that the money should go into his pocket rather than the pockets of those around him after which my husband met with an accident and that greedy first mate took command.” Her mouth went tight as she spoke.

  “Is he still with this Dir clan?”

  “No.” She shook her head. “He is one of those who took as much as he could and left the country.” Her eyes went hard. “Mark tells me he is living in France…”