The Delta Solution (38 page)

“She’s stopping, Hassan,” Abadula said. “I think she’s coming to a complete halt. The marines have taken her.”

THERE WAS A FRENZY of activity in Haradheere. Wolde’s news has sent the $10 shares in the
Mustang
mission to $20. Then $25. And there was still heavy buying. Salat himself had walked down to the main office and drafted the dramatic bulletin for the electronic board:

When the words began to flash inside the main trading area, there was a stampede among the tribesmen to invest. It was a license to print dollar bills. A license to double their money and then some.

Several people had bought $1,000 worth of $10 shares at issue, and their money was now worth $2,500. Salat personally doubled his stake
and then bought some more for his wife. He liked to be seen trading in his own stock market because it gave people a sense of confidence.

Shortly after midnight he returned home, accompanied by a squad of his guards, and opened up the phone line to Japan, which was six hours ahead. Masaki Tanigaki, president of the giant Tokyo Electric Power, the fourth-largest energy company in the world, was awakened at 6:00 a.m. as he slumbered peacefully in a private room at the glorious Bristol Hill Golf and Residential Club.

In the middle of this 6,947-square-yard paradise, the president nearly jumped out of his skin when his cell phone jangled on the bedside table. Mr. Tanigaki was unused to being disturbed without giving specific instructions to do so.

“This is Masaki Tanigaki speaking,” he said. “Who calls me at this hour on my personal phone?”

“My name is not important,” replied the voice, “but I am the commander of the most important ocean pirate operation in the world. My men have just taken over the
Global Mustang
in the middle of the Indian Ocean. I believe you own the cargo, several hundred thousand tons of liquid gas?”

Never had Mr. Tanigaki come awake so swiftly. “
You’ve done what?!
” he exclaimed.

“We have taken command of the American LNG tanker
Global Mustang
. Right now she is heading west at two miles per hour, and my troops have planted massive, high-explosive bombs under each of her domed holding tanks.

“I expect you want to know our price. It’s $10 million US, and when we receive it, we will send the ship on its way as we always do. Most people are happy to do business with us. We are men of our word.”

Tanigaki sat back down on the bed. “You want my corporation to give you $10 million or you will blow up the ship?” he said.

“And its crew,” said Salat. “Everyone dies. And you probably don’t want that on your conscience.”

“
Are you some kind of a madman?!
” roared Tanigaki. “How do I know you have the ship? And why me? It’s not even our ship. We only own half the cargo. We don’t pay the rest until the
Mustang
docks.”

“Mr. Tanigaki, listen to me very carefully.” Salat was the soul of reason. “We are not asking you for the $10 million. We are asking you to share in
the $10 million. And we suggest $2.5 from the owners, $2.5 from you, same from the agents, Athena in New York, and the balance from the insurance company. My staff is talking to the others.”

“
How am I supposed to verify all of this?
” yelled Tanigaki.

“Well,” said Salat, “since the time is three o’clock yesterday afternoon in Houston, I’d start off by phoning Robert Heseltine if I were you. It’s his ship and your oil. Then you can both put the squeeze on Athena in New York. Phone Livanos in Monte Carlo and make the shipping agents share. They can also take care of the insurance company.”

“This is the most disgraceful telephone call I have ever received,” said Mr. Tanigaki. “But give me the number of Texas Global Ships. Do they know what’s happened?”

“By now, probably,” said Salat.

“Do they realize I will be asking them to help pay a ransom? This is most embarrassing.”

“I shouldn’t worry about it if I were you,” retorted Salat.

He terminated the call, mostly to stop himself from laughing.

ADMIRAL WOLDE SIGNALLED for his prisoners to be escorted onto the private promenade deck, which ran around three sides of the bridge. When Abdul finally closed the door behind him, Ismael dialled the number of Texas Global Ships in Houston.

He was told that Robert Heseltine was not in that afternoon.

But Wolde had already rung off and was dialling the private line at the Heseltine home on the outskirts of the city. When the butler answered, the Somali admiral said, “Sir, I am calling from the bridge of Mr. Heseltine’s
Global Mustang
. I have captured the ship, and in the next five minutes I will blow it up with everyone on board. Put Mr. Heseltine on the line immediately.”

Forty-five seconds later, Robert J. Heseltine III was on the line. And he sounded furious. “Just exactly who is this?” he demanded. “And what’s this bullshit you’ve been telling my staff?”

“My name is not important. But I am the commander of the Somali Marines. We have taken possession of your ship the
Global Mustang
. The purpose of my call is to settle a final figure on the ransom . . .”

“A final figure on
WHAT?
” bellowed the six-foot-five-inch, Texan shipowner.

“
Now you listen to me, boy
,” he snapped. “I don’t take instructions from fucking pirates. I want to make that real clear. If I have to, I’ll call the president of the United States, and we’ll send in the goddamned navy, so you better quit even mentioning the word ‘ransom.’
You hear me, boy
?”

“I hear you, sir,” said Ismael softly. “The disturbing thing is, I don’t think you hear me, Mr. Heseltine. And I want this to be very simple. So let me finish . . .

“My men have just placed a massive dynamite charge under each of the four domed holding tanks in the
Mustang
. Should we not reach agreement in the next few minutes, I will leave the ship and make my getaway in a very fast boat. From precisely one mile out, I intend to blast the
Mustang
out of existence with your entire crew on board.”

“
I don’t have any proof, you black bastard
,” yelled Heseltine. “You have any idea who you’re talking to?”

“Sir,” interrupted Ismael, “would you like to check my credentials with your captain, Jack Pitman? I’ll put him on the line for two minutes only.”

So far as the blustering but canny shipping boss was concerned, that was probably game, set, and match to the pirates. Christ! He had Jack captive.

“Hello, Bob,” said the
Mustang
’s captain. “I’m afraid this is for real. This character nearly blew the door off the bridge with a heavy machine gun, and he says he’ll blow up the goddamned ship. My advice is to listen to his terms. Everyone says the Somali pirates are usually reasonable. They just want to get paid and leave.”

“Then there’s no doubt in your mind he can do what he says he’ll do?”

“No doubt whatsoever, Bob. There’s apparently eleven in his gang, and they’re holding everyone at gunpoint. We’re in the middle of nowhere, way out in the Indian Ocean. There’s no help in sight, and if he has set bombs under the holding tanks, there’s not much we can do anyway.”

“Thanks, Jack. Put that black bastard back on the line; let’s hear what he has to say.”

“Mr. Heseltine,” said Admiral Wolde, “my price is $10 million. I’m suggesting you pay $2.5 million, and my colleague is negotiating with the president of Tokyo Electric Power for them to pay the same. My next call
will be to the owner of Athena Shipping in New York; that’s Mr. Livanos in Monte Carlo, and I will ask him for another $2.5 million.”

“
What about the last installment?
” rasped Heseltine. “
Who pays that?
”

“I will suggest to Mr. Livanos that the insurance company pay it,” replied Wolde. “Let’s face it, this is a bargain for everyone. If or when I blow the ship, there will probably be 200 million dollars’ worth of natural gas obliterated. The ship must have cost you something like 200 million . . .”

“
Three hundred, asshole!
” bellowed the Texan.

Wolde ignored him. “So my little price of $10 million, $2.5 each, is a bargain. Not a lot of money for your corporations. A fortune for my poor people, many of whom have nothing, not even anywhere to live or fresh water. My people die of malnutrition every day. Damn your ship and your oil. I’ll blast it all to hell and never think of any of you again.”

Heseltine knew he was being offered a bargain he could not refuse.

“I’ll call you back on the captain’s line inside fifteen minutes,” he told the admiral.

“Make it ten,” said Wolde. “I don’t have much time, and you have even less.”

Heseltine slammed down the phone. “
Black bastard!
” he confirmed. And then he dialled the cell phone of his friend Masaki Tanigaki, startling the electricity tycoon for the second time that early morning. Their conversation was brief.

MEANWHILE, ISMAEL WOLDE called the private line of Constantine Livanos in Monaco. He opened the conversation with a breathtakingly insolent remark: “Mr. Livanos, we are old friends. And I am afraid I have just captured another one of your ships.”

The Greek shipping magnate exploded: “Christ! Not you again! What have you done this time?”

“My men have captured the LNG tanker
Global Mustang
,” he replied. “As you know, she is fully laden with liquid gas. My price is $10 million for her release. Otherwise I will blow her up. I have dynamite charges set under all four of the holding tanks.”

Constantine did not need reminding that the ship would go up like an atom bomb if someone detonated those charges. But the prospect of paying
out $10 million was a serious shaker. He had an enormous amount of money, but it wasn’t even his ship, or his gas.

Wolde stepped in to prevent the Greek going into a total decline. “Don’t worry, Constantine,” he said, smiling at his audacity to use his first name. “I have already suggested to Mr. Heseltine in Houston that each of you pay $2.5 million—that’s Texas Ships, Tokyo Electric Power, Athena, and the insurance company.

“Mr. Heseltine and Mr. Tanigaki are speaking right now. I suggest you talk to the insurers, who stand to lose more than anyone. They will certainly agree that $2.5 million is far better than a payout totalling hundreds of millions for the ship and the gas cargo.”

“Not to mention stupendous claims for damages from the families of personnel who are killed in the blast,” said Livanos. So far as he was concerned, the $2.5 million was beginning to sound like small change. Like Heseltine and Tanigaki, he was beginning to think this sweet-talking desperado from East Africa represented the very essence of rational argument.