The Somali Deception Episode II (A Cameron Kincaid Serial) (12 page)

Abbo jolted himself from the
bed, away from Pepe.

Cameron lifted his MP-5, “Ah,
ah.
 
Stay right there.”

Abbo peered up at Cameron,
judging the next action, and then relaxed back onto the headboard, the attempt
to scramble failed.

“You are the assassins,” said
Abbo.
 
He straightened his back and
then cleared his throat.
 
Abbo’s
head drooped around to Cameron, “You, you are a spy from the CIA, or one of the
others from above maybe?”

“No,” said Cameron.
 
“I’m just the wrong fella to mess with.”

“Seems you hijacked the wrong
yacht,” said Pepe, “and took the wrong girl.”

Abbo began to lean forward, “I
don’t know what you are talking about.”

In a flash, Pepe raised his MP-5
high and then thrust his elbow back into the chest of the captive giant.
 
The headboard cracked loudly as Abbo’s
weight burst back.

Abbo yelled up at Pepe, “What do
you want with me!”

“Where is Christine?” asked
Pepe.

“Who is Christine?
 
I do not know who you are talking
about.”

Pepe’s stout body twisted and
his knee flew up into Abbo’s chest, planting the warlord further into the bed.

Abbo lifted his hands to cover
himself, his eyes wide, “Really I do not know what you are talking about.
 
I do not know about a yacht or this girl
Christine.”

Pepe swung the muzzle of the
MP-5 back toward Abbo’s face.
 

“Hold on,” said Cameron.
 
“We are talking about the
Kalinihta.
 
Demetrius Stratos’ yacht
you hijacked and took to your compound when you kidnapped his son Nikos and
Christine, the woman that was with him.
 
We have Nikos and we want Christine.”

“You fools,” said Abbo.
 
“I did no such thing.”

“What are you talking about?”
asked Cameron.

“You have been deceived.
 
Dada is the kidnapper.
 
It was him that kidnapped my son and
took him to
this
compound you speak of.
 
The compound belongs to Dada.”

“What are you saying?” asked
Pepe.

“I have nothing that far
north.
 
Dada took that compound from
the Merca when he drove them out.
 
Why would I hijack that yacht?
 
I have no quarrel with Demetrius Stratos.
 
I have been dealing with him for years.”

Cameron shook his head, “You’re
lying.”

“No, no,” said Abbo.
 
“This is about money.”

“What money?”

“The waste disposal money.
 
That is what Dada wants.
 
Demetrius charges one thousand euros per
ton to dispose of toxic waste created by the companies across Europe.
 
For five euros per ton, the National
Volunteer Coast Guard allows his ships to dump millions of tons of the
waste.
 
They dump far out in Somali
waters.
 
Demetrius pays me, and then
pockets the difference.
 
Why would I
ruin all of this?”
 
Abbo gestured
his hand around the suite.
 
“This is
that scheming Dada.
 
Dada is in
London to rework the deal for the Somali Marines.”

Alastair had returned and was at
the foot of the bed, “He is lying to save himself.”

“I am not lying.
 
Dada has made a fool of you to win the
deal with Demetrius and to take me out at the same time.
 
My spies tell me he tries to get double
increase.
 
He wants everything.
 
He is the one that sent you, is he not?”

“Why do you say that?” asked
Cameron.

Abbo lowered his voice, wounded
he said, “Maybe you work for Dada?
 
Maybe you were the ones who took my son?
 
What have you done with him?
 
Have you killed Feizel, killed my son?”

“He’s lying,” said Alastair.

“He’s not,” said Pepe.

“When is the last time you saw
your son?” asked Cameron.

“I have not seen my son in
weeks.
 
He is not content to stay
here.
 
He is young and travels
through Europe with the young people, where the young people dance.
 
He was last in Ibiza when I spoke with
him, then he disappeared.”

“Disappeared?
 
What do you mean?” asked Cameron.

“We always talk, every few
days.
 
Then nothing.
 
He did not use his credit cards.
 
No one had seen him.
 
I was told he had been kidnapped and
taken to the compound in Kismayu.
 
By the time my men were able to get there, the compound had been burnt
to the ground.
 
Was that you?”

“Yes,” said Cameron.
 
“We liberated Stratos’ yacht and crew
from the compound.”

Abbo stretched his neck tall,
“Did you see my son?
 
Do you know
what that dog did with him?”

“Not everyone was there,” said
Pepe.
 
“That is why we are here.”

“Then I must go to London,” said
Abbo.
 
“I know now what he is up
to.
 
I will set things right with
Demetrius, and I will torture that dog Dada to find out where my son is.”

“Your son is dead,” said
Alastair.

“What?” asked
Abbo.

“Feizel was in on the deal to
screw over his old man,” said Alastair.
 
“The heir to the throne.
 
Just didn’t play out like he thought.”

Abbo’s eyes began to blaze red,
“Now you lie!”

Alastair continued, “He had a
gun when we arrived.
 
What kidnapper
would give their hostage a gun?”

“Where is he?
 
What have you done?”

“He is dead,” said
Alastair.
 
He nodded toward
Pepe.
 
“My friend shot him in the
head.”

Abbo shouted a guttural scream,
“No this cannot be!”
 
He threw his
outstretched hand up toward Pepe’s neck, his wrists and fingers gnarled in the
air prepared to mangle.
 
Pepe’s
knees buckled as he dropped back to dodge the lunging warlord.
 
Pepe squeezed his trigger as the warlord
soared toward him.

Abbo convulsed in the air,
riddled by the stings of the MP-5 submachine gun, before falling twisted on the
bed, less half his skull, which now plastered the face of the headboard.

“Why did you have to go say that?”
asked Cameron.

“You really think he was going
to forget about us?” said Alastair.
 
“He was going to hunt us down for what we did today alone, and once he
found out the truth about Feizel.”
 
Alastair shrugged, “Well.”

* * *
* *

Abbo’s Suite, Burj Khalifa Level
105, Dubai

The door of the suite boomed in
thwacks and thuds, the hollers of the men on the other side escalating in
accordance to their impatience.

“Sounds like they really want to
get in,” said Cameron.

Alastair was stowing all of the
loose gear back into the duffels.
 
He glanced out into the night past the glass wall.
 
“We have less than a minute to wait for
our cue.”

Pepe was setting the final
charges around the edges of the glass.
 
“Will that be enough time?
 
As soon as Abbo’s men figure out the card readers shorted they are going
to take that door.”

“They will have to have great
luck trying,” said Alastair.
 
“ I
checked the lock when I sent Antoinette out to the corridor, that door should
hold.”

Cameron zipped the front of his
jumpsuit, “This fits, and I get a logo as well.”

“They came in a set,” said
Alastair.
 
“You know Pepe, if you
would have really killed all of his downstairs men like you told him we would
not be in a rush.”

“I would have enjoyed the task,”
said Pepe.
 
“You were the one that
said we should minimize risk by manipulating the camera system.
 
You should have started the fountain
sooner.”

Alastair stopped and shifted his
gaze to Pepe.
 
“I triggered the
remote as soon as I bloody well could thank you.
 
I think all of Dubai is going to
appreciate this unscheduled performance.”
 
Alastair resumed zipping the duffels.
 
“You should
take a
look
down at the extravaganza.”

“Hmm,” said Pepe.
 
“Magnific.”

“You’re damn right,” said
Alastair.
 
“They haven’t used those
extreme shooters since the opening ceremony.”

“They really shoot the water
fifty stories in the air?” asked Cameron, adjusting his harness.

“With percussion as loud as
thunder.
 
When those babies go off
this whole building, that entire mall, hell the whole city, is going to
shake.
 
It will be great
… Except.”

Pepe too was adjusting his
harness.
 
Without looking at
Alastair he asked, “Except what?”

“I said they haven’t been used
since the opening ceremony.”

“So?” asked Pepe.

“When I went out on the lake
this afternoon to calibrate them they registered as engaged on the control
screen.”

“That’s fine then,” said
Cameron.

“Well that only means they are
calibrated for the performance and registering.
 
If they are not set up to receive
pressure or something goes wrong this may not work.”

“So then the world knows we are
here?” asked Pepe.

“We reduce the element of
diversion,” said Alastair.

“No matter,” said Cameron,
“we’re leaving.
 
Do you hear them
out there?
 
They’re rabid.”

“No worries.
 
There would have to be,” Alastair
abruptly paused as the yelling suddenly escalated, flooding the suite beyond
the master bedroom, “A secondary mechanism.
 
There would have to be a secondary
mechanism.
 
How did we miss that?”

“We need to go now,” said
Cameron.
 
“The bolts on this door
won’t hold them long.”

Abbo’s soldiers began thumping
the bedroom door.

“All good,” said Alastair.
 
“The music is about to crescendo and
then we make our exit.
 
Three small
percussions then the two larger ones, ready yourselves.”

“What music?” asked
Pepe.

“You cannot hear the music from
here?” asked Alastair.
 
From beyond
the glass wall, they heard a muffled boom.
 
“That’s one.
 
You better back
up.”

From inside the suite they heard
furniture now thudding against the door.

“That’s two.”

Pepe held the trigger in his
hand.

“And three, get ready Pepe.”

The panels in the center of the
bedroom door began to break inward yet the door stayed secure in the frame.

Alastair’s focus was
intense.
 
His eyes went vacant as he
distinguished the outside concussions from the rounds the men beyond the door
were firing into the locks.

Alastair yelled, “Now!”

Pepe flipped the charge in sync
with the sound of thunder from the extreme shooters of the Dubai fountain
below.
 
The glass wall disintegrated
into the Dubai night, high above the lake.

Abbo Mohammed’s men broke the
door to the master bedroom free from the reinforced bolts.

Pepe, Cameron, and Alastair
thrust themselves into the void adjacent to the tower.

Somali soldiers poured into the
dead warlord’s room.

Pepe, Cameron, and Alastair
separated quickly on launch then tossed their chutes out, their canopies pulled
up, and open.
 
The soldiers raced to
the perch of the now open level.
 
Alastair’s voice tinned in Pepe’s ear, “Now Pepe.”

Pepe squeezed the second
igniter.

To the left of the three
commandos, eruptions of fuchsia hued water towered upward, high above the other
buildings around them, accompanied by thunder.
 
The series of charges set throughout the
suite during the sweep, exploded in a cascade, propelling the unprepared
soldiers from the open ledge.