Hostage to Fortune

'I do Tom. I do trust him. I just wish he'd tell me a bit more. Why is he keeping me out of it?'

'Maybe because it isn't strictly legal, and if you don't know, you can't be an accessory'

The sound of Will's voice made me jump. I turned to see him standing just inside the door. He'd replaced the crutches with two wooden walking sticks.

'How long have you been standing there?'

'Long enough to hear my father quoting Kipling, and both he and Kipling are right. Give in now and we ruin it for ourselves and everyone else that comes into contact with those buggers. It's a business to them, and in business, when something costs more to keep than you hope to gain from having it, you dispose of it.'

'But they could kill her.'

'They could, but they won't. Bad for business. Look there is no point in speculating now. We'll know more in a couple of days when Kitur comes back.'

'You definitely think he is coming back then?'

'I know he's coming back, he's already booked his ticket'

Two days later, Mr Kitur walked into our office. It had been ten days, almost to the minute, since his departure. His self-assured cockiness was gone, now he seemed a little nervous. Jane showed him in and Will offered him a seat. As he sat, he started talking immediately.

'Good news my friend. I have spoken to the men holding your wife, and they have agreed to reduce their demands. For only two million dollars you can have your wife safe at home.'

'All in good time Kitur. Now have you delivered the phone as I said?'

Kitur nodded.

'Good, then I should be able to use my computer to call them.'

Kitur squirmed uncomfortably as the ringtones burst forth from the computer. It seemed to take an age for them to answer but eventually, someone did.

'Yes.' said the voice at the other end.

'You are holding my wife. I want to see her'

'You have spoken to our intermediary?'

'I'm not discussing anything with anybody until I've seen that my wife is alive and well.'

'She is fine, you see her soon. Now our offer is acceptable to you yes?'

'I said I want to see my wife. Now let me see her or this conversation is over.'

We heard a few yells of pain and protest before Samantha was pushed down onto the seat in front of the satellite phone. It took her a second before she realised Will's face was looking at her.

'Oh Will darling, I'm so sorry, really I am. I didn't know Ryan was going to do that. I was as surprised as you. I begged him to turn the boat around and go back but he wouldn't. I know I've been stupid, so, so, stupid, do you ever'

'Be quiet Sam. Just listen. --How are you? Are they treating you well'

'Well if you call being locked in a room with only a single chair, a tiny window, and a bucket to wee in, being treated well, then yes they are.'

'What's all the noise I can hear? It sounds like explosions. Is something going on there?'

'I don't know there was a series of loud bangs in the night and the whole place has been going mad ever since.

'OK Sam, just hang in there. I'll do my best to get you released.'

'Can't you just give them the money?'

'It's not as simple as that.'

Suddenly the chair was pulled away and Sam with it. A man stood in front of the camera.

'Of course, it is as simple as that. You've seen your wife, You know the deal now it is just a matter of how we make the trade.' He yelled.

'Ten thousand dollars. I shouldn't give you that but you killed the man who tried to kill me and you saved the taxpayer the cost of a trial. I suppose you deserve some compensation for that.'

'Ten thousand dollars?' he turned his back on the camera and walked away a few steps before turning and pointing straight at Will's image. 'You expect me to hand her over for Ten thousand dollars?'

'No! I expect you to turn me down and then later give her to me for nothing.'

'You are a crazy man, you know that? You are a crazy man.'

He reached out a hand and suddenly the connection was cut.

Kitur got out of his seat and moved towards Will.

'He's right you are crazy. You are a businessman you know how it goes. I make my demand, you make an offer. I lower my demand and you raise your offer. We settle for something in between. But you...You have reduced your offer. He is right you are crazy.'

Will picked up a remote control and pointed it at a TV on the wall.

'Things change Kitur. I think you ought to see this'

The screen showed a pall of thick black smoke and beneath that were flames and I could just make out the shape of a ship.

'These are live pictures from our helicopter off the coast of Mogadishu. What you see is a ship called the Spirit of Olympus, a 250,000-tonne oil tanker. She was seized by Somali pirates last year and they have been said to be negotiating a 200 million dollar ransom for her release. Today she is listing heavily, oil is pouring from her tanks and burning on the surface of the ocean.'

'The heat is so intense that we can't stay this close for very long so I can't see any way that they can get close enough to save the ship. As the oil pours out the water will flood in and she will sink to the bottom. This is Andrew Pearce in the KTV helicopter off the coast of Mogadishu, handing you back to the studio.'

Back in the studio, they had a shipping expert explaining why he thought it was no accident. A correspondent speaking from Mombasa related stories from Mogadishu locals who told of a series of explosions. Back in the studio, they were assuming that it was no accident and asking who would do such a thing. The security spokesman could only offer one explanation a turf war between pirate gangs.

'Well, what do you make of that?' Will asked Kitur.

'Unbelievable, who would do such a thing?'

'You heard them, it looks like another pirate gang.'

'No I don't believe that. There is no fighting between them.'

'Oh come off it Kitur, we both know you're finding it more difficult to capture vessels. As the pickings get slimmer, the jealousies emerge. Either way, it looks like you've got too much on your plate to worry about my wife, why don't you just let her go?'

'I keep telling you, Mister Wainwright. I don't know these people, I am just a trusted intermediary.'

'That's strange, both your wife in Mombasa and your mistress in Mogadishu say that you are friends with these people and are paid by them.'

Kitur jumped up. 'You have spoken to my wife? That is outrageous. I hope they kill your wife.'

'Oh, I don't think you do. Remember our conversation the last time you were here. Whatever they do to my wife, I will have done to you.'

Will reached out to his intercom.

'Jane, would you send in Mr Maidment please?'

The door opened and a mountain of a man stepped in. He was at least six feet six inches tall, broad-shouldered and very muscular. He stood beside Kitur.

'Mr Maidment, Kitur here is just leaving, would you see him out.'

'Certainly sir. Have you spoken to your wife?'

'Yes, I have. She is being held in a small room with one chair and a bucket. She has a black eye and a cut on her cheek about here.' He pointed to his right cheek just below his eye.

'OK sir, I'll deal with it from here.'

He took hold of Kitur's left arm and took him out. I never saw him again.

Over the next week, there were more reports of attacks on the Somali coast. The news media was full of it. Two days after the tanker incident our screens were full of pictures of a stricken container ship. It had been the subject of a Mortar bomb attack. Much of the cargo had been blown overboard and the shifting cargo had caused the ship to list heavily.

'The list seems to be getting worse,' said the reporter, 'experts expect her to lose much of her deck cargo if she doesn't turn turtle. The problem could be solved if they could offload the cargo but the Somalis do not have the facilities for that.'

The helicopter changed position and the camera picked out a raft out at sea.

'We think the mortars were launched from the raft which appears to have been towed into position by a powerful boat. Witnesses heard it leaving the scene, shortly after the attack.'

They flew out over the oil tanker, which was still burning. Back in the studio, people were saying that the reciprocation attacks lent weight to the theory of a turf war. The station's economics correspondent tried to assess the winners and losers.

'To be honest John it's hard to find any winners in this. The insurance companies will suffer, they were hoping to get these ships back to offset the payments they have made to the owners. There are a number of pirate gangs operating out of Somalia and so far, two of them have suffered huge losses. The only possible gains to be made would be by one of the less successful but heavily armed gangs.'

One item that had slipped completely off the news menu was Samantha's kidnapping. For Will and me, life went on as normal. During the day we worked. After work, we enjoyed ourselves and each other. Will gave the impression that everything was under control but I could tell by the way he studied the news reports, that he was concerned. It was a week after Kitur's visit that Will got an incoming call on his computer.

'What can I do for you, Mr Ahmed?'

There was a pause before Amin Ahmed replied.

'Who gave you that name?'

'I don't think that matters Mr Ahmed. What matters is that I have it. Now I ask again what can I do for you?'

'Our intermediary Mr Kitur. He did not return with your decision.'

'That is a shame, especially since he has my money. I thought you said he was trustworthy.'

'No! No, I don't believe you. You are a businessman you would not give him two million dollars without knowing your wife would be released.'

'Who said anything about two million? I offered ten thousand and that is what I gave him. Now when are you going to release my wife?'

There was a long silence before Ahmed came back at him.

'You are playing games with me Mr, Wainwright. I am not the sort of man you play games with.'

'Now listen, Ahmed, I never play games and I know that you chaps have your own internal war going on. Why don't you just let her go so you can concentrate on fighting your fellow pirates?'

'No, is not true we do not fight each other we are brothers.'

'And Kitur was he a brother.'

'Of course.'

'Yet he has disappeared with my money and you have nothing. It occurs to me Ahmed that all these things started when you refused to release my wife. Perhaps God is trying to tell you something.'

The connection was lost and Will picked up the phone. He seemed remarkably calm as he spoke to Karl Hatcher.

'Are they soft enough yet. --How much will another week cost me? --Well, that's very magnanimous of you. --Oh yes I'm sure you will more than recoup the cost. --Yes, I have given him something to think about. --Okay, I'll leave it with you then, just make sure you are successful.'

He put the phone down, looked across and smiled at me.

'Not long now.'

'Will, are you going to tell me what's going on? What has happened to Kitur? I know you didn't give him any money.'

'Kitur is safe and well, don't worry. You're right I didn't give him any money but it does no harm to let Ahmed think I did. It's all about undermining his confidence while piling on the pressure. We have to make him nervous and a little frightened, then we offer him a way out.'

Chapter 15

Bruce Goddard was very impressed with the British police. They'd flown him in from Gran Canaria and put him up in the Savoy Hotel, all so that he could make a statement about the rescue of Will Wainwright. He'd been to London before but never stayed anywhere as luxurious as this. It was an experience he was determined to savour. When the barman offered to put the price of his beer on his room bill, he thought that maybe that was taking the piss. However, once he was told the price, his reluctance disappeared. He was just enjoying his beer when much to his surprise, he was paged.

'Your dinner guest has arrived sir.'

'Nah you've got wrong man mate. I was just gonna go out for a curry and a few beers.'

'No mistake sir. You are Mr Bruce Goddard from room 235?'

'Well yeah but...'

'Well sir, your guest is waiting for you in the restaurant.'

Bruce thanked the lad and made his way to the restaurant. The Maitre D' was very polite and made no mention of his jeans, though it was obvious that everyone else was dressed for dinner. He summoned a waiter, who showed Bruce to his table. There was a man already sitting at the table and as Bruce arrived, he stood up.

'I'm sorry mate.,' said Bruce. 'There seems to have been some mistake. I didn't invite anyone to dinner and I certainly can't afford to eat here.'

The man offered his hand. 'Good evening Mr Goddard. I'm Will Wainwright, and I hope you'll forgive me but I invited myself.'

Bruce stepped back a little and looked at the man before taking the offered hand and shaking it.

'I've gotta say, mate, you're looking a hell of a lot better than the last time I saw you.--But look we can't eat here it'll cost a bomb and I'm not really dressed for it.'

'I can wait while you get changed if you like, but I assure you no one here is going to worry about the way you are dressed. As for the bill, we'll charge that to your room.'

Bruce smiled 'Ah I've got you now. This was all you wasn't it. Flying me in here, putting me up in this place. It was nothing to do with the cops, you set it up.'

'Guilty as charged, Mr Goddard.'

'Bruce! Just call me Bruce.'

'Okay, Bruce, and you must call me Will now shall we sit down and eat, or do you want to go somewhere else?'

The two men sat down. Through the course of their meal, Will delved into Bruce's past. By the time they'd got to their brandies, he knew he would make the offer.

'Bruce I owe you a debt that I could never repay. Now tell me are you just a motor jockey or can you sail?'

'Are you kidding me? I'm a Kiwi, of course, I can bloody sail.'

Will reached into his inside pocket and pulled out an envelope.

'Now just a minute. I don't want your bloody money. I did what I did because it was the right thing to do, and because that girl of yours gave me no choice.' He smiled as he remembered the bikini-clad Stephanie urging him to go faster.

Will reached into the envelope pulled out a ticket and passed it across the table.

'That is a business class ticket to cape town. My ketch Bee Jay II is out there. I'd like you to check her out and bring her home.'

Will placed two other items in front of Bruce an envelope and a card.

'In the envelope, you will find one thousand pounds. I'd like you to find another three men to crew for you Bee Jay is capable of being sailed single-handed but until I get all the systems checked out, I'd feel happier if you had a full crew. You will probably need to pay off their debts before you can sail. They'll be paid in full when they arrive in Ramsgate as will you.'

Bruce smiled, this man obviously knew sailors.

'The card is a prepaid card with enough money on it to pay for provisions fuel and a little extra for emergencies.'

Finally, Will passed a single piece of paper across with a figure written on it.

'And that is what I'm prepared to pay you to do the job.'

Bruce looked at the number on the paper and whistled. He looked across the table at Will.

'You make it bloody hard for a bloke to say no.'

'Then don't.' Will pulled another paper from the envelope. 'This is a job description and salary details for a Job I will offer to you on your return. In short, it amounts to looking after Bee Jay, making sure she's ready to sail when needed, hiring a crew and sailing her to wherever she's needed. Effectively when I'm not on board, you will be her skipper. Think about it and give me your decision when you get back. Now, do we have a deal?'

'I guess so yeah, I dunno I'm still reeling from the shock.'

'Good, your plane leaves in a week. Make the most of what the hotel has to offer. Anything you want, charge it to the room. If you want to see a show or something, talk to the concierge and he'll make the bookings.'

Will got up to leave and offered his hand. 'I hope this is the start of a long and fruitful relationship.' He said.

He took hold of his walking stick and started to walk away then turned back to Bruce.

'I don't know what happened between you and Stephanie, and I don't want to know, but let's be clear on one thing, from here on she is off limits okay?'

'Yeah, No worries. I kinda got the idea that she's a one man woman, you know?'

Will smiled and nodded. Bruce knew what was in that smile.

'Say, have you two got something going? Well good on you. She's a great girl.'

'I know.' Said Will. 'It may have taken me a long time to realise it, but I do know.'

With that, the two men parted.

In the week following Amin's call, Somalia was rarely out of the news. Both the tanker and the container ship were lost, and there had been a number of attacks along the coast and most of the boats used by the pirates had been destroyed. Just what Will's involvement was, I wasn't really sure, but he seemed quite satisfied with the way things were going. It was on the eighth day that he got the call that relieved all the tension. It came from Karl Hatcher and lasted less than a minute.

When he hung up the phone, Will smiled at me.

'I think it's almost over. Two maybe three days.'

'Can I know about it now?'

'I think you already do. You know what Hatcher deals in.'

'You always said he deals in death.'

'Well yes, he's an arms dealer, but yes he's been involved in trying to overthrow governments. He has used mercenaries to destabilise countries so that he can sell arms to both sides. For the last three weeks, his men have been destabilising the pirate gangs, setting them against each other. Now they all think that they need better armaments, radar equipment and training in their use. So far, the Kalashnikov and the rocket-propelled grenade have been sufficient, but now they think they need more. Guess who is going to supply them.'

'Where do you fit in?'

'I helped finance the mercenaries, on the condition that part of the price for the weapons, would be Samantha's release. In the end, he will not make a lot of money out of it, but he'll get a lot of kudos out of getting Sam released.'

'But he's not the type to worry about kudos.'

'He is when he's hankering after a knighthood. He can't wait to be Sir Karl Hatcher and if he secures Sam's release the press will love him and his knighthood will be in the bag.'

'So how much has it cost you?'

'About a million maybe less.'

I walked over plonked myself down in his lap and kissed him.

'How would you like to take me home early?'

'You know we can't do that. We've got people to see this afternoon.'

I got up off his lap ran my hand over his cheek and chin before kissing him again.

That night in bed, as we lay together, I ran my fingers through his chest hair. I kissed his cheek then rested my head on his chest.

'You took a big risk to get Sam back. If any of what you did gets out, you could go to prison.'

'That's why I used Hatcher. Despicable as he is, he has friends in high places. Nothing ever sticks to him. I know something about what he's done but proving it is something else.'

I started to run my fingers down his side. I could feel the sheets starting to rise.

'You still feel something for Sam don't you?'

'Of course, I do. I feel a bit responsible for her. If I'm honest, I married her because of what it did for my image. That's not the right reason to get married. As you reminded me, I've been acting like a single man. I don't think for a minute that she knew what Ryan had planned.'

I moved my hand lower so that my fingers caressed his erect penis.