So, once they were under way, Nolan sought out Bebe to explain the overall situation to him. He found him at the bar on the top deck.
“Comrade One Eye,” was how Bebe greeted him. “Will have drinks, you and me.”
Nolan got a soda water. He was on the clock.
“Just who are we protecting you guys from?” he asked Bebe directly. “Pirates? Rivals? Someone’s navy?”
Bebe smiled, displaying a mouthful of gold teeth. “Your specialty is pirates, right?” he asked.
Nolan shrugged. “I guess.”
“So you are protecting us from pirates then,” he said, and added: “But maybe more.”
“Really?”
Bebe downed his shot of vodka. “See it this way,” he said. “Every man aboard ship has enemies—dozens at least. Rivals. Wannabes. People wanting to settle score. If someone sink ship, they get rid of many, many top adversaries in one swoop.”
Bebe never stopped smiling as he said all this; Nolan knew this was not a good sign. The Russian was holding something back.
“You’re paying us a lot of money,” he told him. “And whether you tell me everything or not, it’s still the same fee. So, if you want us to just keep a lookout for pirates, then so be it—though I’m not sure how many pirates there are in the Aegean Sea. But, if you want to level with me, then maybe we can really protect you from
everything
that’s out there.”
Bebe mulled this over, then motioned Nolan to come closer. “OK, here is scoop,” he said. “We get gossip that someone will definitely attack ship during cruise. Rival business. Jealous of us. And somehow, someway—they want to try to get us all. I get information from sources that are very firm. Never wrong. And I’m getting updates by hour. Chatter says attack will come. No matter what.”
“Why don’t you just cancel the trip, then?” Nolan asked him. “Turn around and everyone can go home safe.”
Bebe laughed. “You don’t know my world. Is simple rule. You never show fear. Is better that whole ship sinks than to cancel big party. That’s how everyone feel. The trip must go on—we must be prepared to fight off whatever is coming—or we look like schoolchildren.”
NOLAN LEFT THE
bar and went to the suite that had been supplied to the team. It was an expansive space with a dining room, a game room, a sitting room, a full bar, big-screen TV, two balconies, and a half-dozen bedrooms spinning off it. It was
nothing
like the
Dustboat
.
Crash, Twitch and Gunner were on hand, getting ready to go on duty. Each was wearing his new deep-blue combat suit, courtesy of their client. In reality, their new uniforms looked like something designed by NASA. They were thick, hot, uncomfortable—and ugly.
“What’s the 411?” Gunner asked him. “Are these guys for real or paranoid? Or both?”
Nolan pulled out a soda water from the bar.
“They’re for real,” he told them. “No doubt about that. But let’s make sure we know where the life preservers are kept. This might get a little funky somewhere down the road.”
“That’s great,” Gunner said gloomily. “Just when we thought we’d had our share of funky with the Indians.”
In their own way, these three rarely seemed anything but motivated despite all they’d gone through. But at the moment, Nolan thought they looked troubled. He’d sensed it right away.
“What’s the problem?” he asked them. “You guys don’t like the accommodations?
Crash spoke first. “It’s the money,” he said bluntly.
“The money? For this job? Two hundred fifty grand not enough for you to sail around on this tub for two and a half days?”
“No, it’s a lot,” Crash said. “
That’s
the problem. Add it to what we made squashing Turk, squashing Zeek, and what the Indians just gave us, we’re almost up to two and a half million bucks.”
“Two million, three hundred eighty-five thousand, to be exact,” Nolan told them. “You guys want to count it or something?”
Gunner spoke up. “We’re just concerned about the security,” he said.
“Security?” Nolan asked. “We got it here with us. Batman prays over it every half hour. You can’t get better security. Plus, we agreed not to put it in a bank, just in case someone comes looking for taxes or something.”
“You just hit the nail on the head,” Gunner said. “Not the banking thing—but who’s watching over it for us.”
Nolan was stunned. “The Batman, you mean? He’s the money guy of the group. He’s the best guy to look out for it.”
The usually reticent Twitch spoke up. “Sure, he’s the money guy—but he’s also another Bernie Madoff. He was on the run when we hooked back up with him. He has more guys chasing
him than you do. Plus we just found out the government seized all his assets. He’s beyond broke at this point.”
Nolan put his drink down. This was getting serious.
“Are you saying you don’t trust him with our money?” he asked them directly.
“Do you?” Crash asked.
Nolan was pissed. “Let’s remember who we are talking about here,” he said. “This is a guy who’s saved the lives of each one of us more than once. Me, in Kosovo. Gunner, in Sakrit, Twitch and Crash, that gunfight outside Beirut. He’d take a bullet for any one of you.”
The three men nodded uncomfortably. Crash said, “But money changes people.”
Nolan was starting to burn. “Yes, I guess it does,” he said. “It’s changing you three right before my eyes.”
A tense silence descended on the suite.
Nolan finally broke it. “OK, so what do you want me to do? Split it up so you’ll all have your own piece? Do we really want to be all walking around with a half million dollars in our pockets?”
“What we want is for you to talk to him,” Gunner said. “Just make sure that he’s copasetic with the money, that’s all.”
“I mean,” Crash said, “now that we know he’s seriously broke, have you actually
seen
the money since we came aboard? How do we know he isn’t making a side deal with these Russian meatballs? Or that he won’t disappear with it when we’re not looking? Take off in the copter and just fly away? You got to admit, that’s just about what he did to those suckers he had for clients back in the States. And what’s stealing a couple million bucks mean to a guy like that anyway? He’s used to stealing
hundreds
of millions. To him, we’ve made chicken feed compared to that. It would be nothing for him to disappear with it.”
Nolan started to say something, but stopped. They were right, of course. He trusted Batman, but he was the only other officer in the team, and maybe that was affecting his judgment. And he couldn’t let that happen, no matter what he thought of the guy.
He drained his water, then said, “OK—you guys get out on deck patrol. I’ll go talk to him.”
NOLAN FOUND BATMAN
out on the stern, sitting by the work copter.
“What’s the good word?” he asked Nolan cheerfully.
“I believe it’s pronounced:
Bratva krasnayai,”
Nolan replied. “Or maybe
Krasnaya mafiy.”
Batman laughed. “Yeah, Red Mafia? Is that who you think these guys are?”
Nolan shrugged. “Who knows? Who cares? They paid up, right?”
“They did,” Batman replied. “I counted it and tested every bill—and it’s all legit. No counterfeits. No bogus script. A quarter of a million dollars in the ship’s vault, along with the rest of our stash. We’ll need to get a new sea bag soon, by the way.”
Nolan had known Batman for almost fifteen years. They’d gone through Delta training together. There was a bond there. Even though they’d been out of touch after the Tora Bora mess, when the group got back together, it was like they’d missed no time at all.
On the other hand, Nolan had no idea what had gone on with Batman after he returned to civilian life, other than he’d been caught up in the Wall Street scandals. There was a big hole in the time line there.
Batman lit a cigarette—which was funny, because Nolan never knew him to smoke.
“You never did tell me what the hell happened to you back in the States,” Nolan said to him. “We’ve been back riding together for more than a year now, but I still haven’t heard the story.”
Batman took a long drag on his smoke. “What’s to tell? I went into high finance after leaving Delta and got caught up in it. We all did. Making money. Making
more
money. Even when we went to the higher-ups and told them maybe we should cool it on all these exotic trades and stuff—they just said: ‘Shut up and make more money.’ That’s the short version of a long story.”
He took another drag, held his breath, and let it out slowly.
“Not as exciting as almost punching out a judge and going off to find bin Laden on your own,” he added.
“There’s no statute of limitations on either of those things,” Nolan said gravely.
Batman laughed and nudged him. “Man, you’re still up-tight,” he said. “Here, take a drag of this and relax. We’re on a roll here.”
Nolan didn’t smoke but Batman nearly forced the cigarette into his mouth. Nolan took a drag—and spit it out immediately.
“Jesus—what is that?
Pot?”
Batman just smiled. “Hey, I don’t know. Bebe gave it to me. Takes the stress away. Take another hit.”
Nolan held up his hand and refused.
Batman said, “What’s the matter? Afraid you’ll get the one eye red?”
Nolan ignored the comment. He said instead, “You know, at one time maybe you were able to swim in a pool filled with money. But the guys, they’ve never come close to the amount we’ve earned in just this past month.”
“It will be good for them to see how the other half lives,” Batman said.
“Well, let’s make sure of that, OK?” Nolan said.
Batman looked at him strangely. Then a light went on behind his eyes. “Hey—is that what this is about? Those guys are worried because I’m the one holding the money?”
Nolan shrugged, feeling the slight effects of the inadvertent drag of reefer. “I told them they had no reason to be.”
Batman was upset. “That cash is safe with me. I’m not a crook. I wouldn’t rip off those guys. What are they thinking? That I’d just suddenly take off? Leave them high and dry?”
Nolan just shrugged again, but didn’t say anythhing.
Batman was getting agitated now. “I’m embarrassed by what I did, Snake. And I’m sorry. And that’s why I rejoined this merry band. I had a bit of trouble living with myself. Sure, I made some serious coin—and now it’s gone. But I lost a lot more than that. My wife—my kids. Back in the States. I
haven’t seen them for months. That’s
my
prison sentence. Because of what I did, I’m a man without a country.”
Nolan looked him straight in the eye and said, “So am I.”
BEBE’S BUSINESS MEETING
started with the sound of a ringing bell.
On this signal, all of the male guests and their bodyguards were summoned to the ship’s central function room, located on the fifth deck. Nolan had three of the 50-calibers manned, on display as the family associates walked by, each man flanked by his hired heat, except the half-dozen professor-looking types, who looked even more out of place than before. Per Nolan’s plan, the work copter was in the air, Batman noisily circling the ship. But like the big guns, it was for show more than anything else.
Once everyone was inside the function room, Nolan and Crash stood guard at the only door that led in and out of the place. Nolan didn’t want to know what was going on inside. That was not part of the job.
But Crash’s curiosity was stronger, and eventually it got the best of him. The door leading into the function hall was made of frosted glass with intricate designs cut into it. The designs were made of clear glass, providing hundreds of peepholes.
Crash couldn’t resist taking a peek.
“What the fuck?” he gasped, pushing his eye against the window. “This is weird . . .”
Nolan was embarrassed by Crash’s behavior, but the curiosity was getting to him, too.
“What is it?” he asked Crash in a hushed tone.
“You gotta see it for yourself,” was his reply.
Against all his instincts, Nolan put his good eye up against the glass and looked inside. What he saw was baffling.
The men were sitting around a huge table covered with rocks. All shapes. All sizes. Nothing but rocks.
It didn’t make sense.
Had he seen them dividing up drugs, or gold, or diamonds, or even weapons, he would have understood.
But rocks?
“What the hell is up with that?” Crash asked him.
Nolan had no idea—and it wasn’t like he was going to ask anyone, especially Bebe.
“If they want to pay us a quarter million for protecting rocks,” he told Crash, “that’s fine with me.”
THE BUSINESS MEETING
lasted just thirty minutes.
The attendees streamed out of the hall when it was over, laughing and joking in several languages. Some of their goons were carrying suitcases they could barely get off the floor.
The guests walked past Nolan and Crash like they weren’t there. The last person out of the room was Bebe.
“Business over for a while,” he told them. “Now party begins.”
“How long will it last?” Nolan asked him, checking his watch.
Bebe laughed. “Maybe forever,” he replied.
WHEN NOLAN WALKED
the main deck and found Gunner at his machine-gun station having his picture taken with two gorgeous women, he knew the celebration had begun. A third was wielding the camera. They were all wearing micro-bikinis, and all were drop-dead gorgeous.
“How could I resist?” Gunner said to Nolan as he walked by. “They said they’re crazy about my uniform.”
Nolan gave him a mock salute and kept on walking.
He next came upon the so-called Big Pond. It was an Olympic-size swimming pool, also located on the main deck, which featured a semisubmerged wraparound bar. The pool area was already crowded with party girls, again all of them out-of-this-world beautiful. The business associates were just starting to wade into this area, followed by their bodyguards. Soon the champagne was flowing like water.
About 200 feet above the pool, the work copter was hovering; it was Batman’s way of telling a joke, as in: “I got
this
place covered.”
Two beauties walked up to Nolan and tried to get him to drink a glass of champagne. They said his eye patch was sexy.