Sea of Fire

Chapter 1

2006-04-07T03:11:00.000-07:00

This novel is dedicated to .com (PD) the best writer the blogosphere has ever seen. No one wrote a rant like .com. I fear we will not see his like again.

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Sea of Fire

"If the U.S. imperialists ignite flames of war, we will first of all strike all bases of U.S. imperialist aggressors and turn them into a sea of fire,” North Korea's Central Radio quoted officer Hur Ryong as saying. Hur was also quoted as saying that the North Korean military will "thoroughly incinerate the aggressors’ elements that collude with the U.S. Imperialists."

Article 16(4) of the Geneva Convention:
There will be no suspension of the innocent passage of foreign ships through straits, which are used in international navigation between one part of the high seas and another part of the high seas or the territorial sea of a foreign State.

Indonesia, Straits of Malacca, Palau Nua Island
October 27, 2006, 23:00 local time

The narrow wooden boat left the jungle-fringed beach and headed out into the Strait. The helmsman revved the old diesel engine and the boat surged forward, its outrigger creating an intermittent fluorescent wake through the water.

Malik could see the lights of at least a dozen ships. He could recognize a ship's type by its lights. The one they were interested in was long and low. The helmsman set the wooden boat on a course to intercept the massive, slow-moving ship.

The eight black-hooded men on board carried an assortment of weapons, mostly parangs, the short machete-like sword of South East Asia. Two men carried old, but still serviceable, revolvers.

The helmsman steered the boat so that it would pass three hundred meters to the rear of the huge ship.

When the boat was almost directly behind the big ship and had crossed into its wake, the helmsman pushed the rudder hard and the wooden boat turned onto the same course as the big ship. This was always the riskiest part of the operation, but approaching the ship from the rear ensured they wouldn't show up on the big ship's radar.

An alert radar operator might notice that the small boat had disappeared from the ship's radar and not reappeared a few minutes later as it should, but small boats crossed the paths of the big ships all the time in these waters. And even if he did notice, by the time he acted on the information, it would be too late.

The helmsman turned the engine's throttle and the small boat accelerated through the ship's wake and drew level with its side.

The fully laden oil tanker on its way from the Arabian Gulf to Japan rode low in the water. Men threw grappling lines over the ship's rails not far above them. Two of the black-hooded men looped the ropes around wooden cleats on the boat's gunwale and pulled them tight, securing the small boat to the side of the massive ship.

The men began to climb the short distance to the deck. As soon as they could reach the ship's railings, they grabbed hold and pulled themselves on board. Within seconds, eight men were running toward the superstructure at the rear of the vessel.

The leading man ran up the steel stairway that led to the bridge. When he reached the top, he pulled open the heavy metal door, and the four men behind him charged through.

Malik could see the shock and fear on the three men's faces, as he pointed his revolver at the Captain, the only European on the bridge, and demanded, “Where is the radio room?”

The Captain said to the two men with him, “Stay calm, I'll handle this. Company policy is to cooperate. Give them everything they want.”

He then said to Malik, “I'll show you. It's this way.”

Malik and two of the hooded men followed the Captain to a room just behind the bridge. The room was unoccupied. The two men with Malik entered and began disabling equipment by unplugging and smashing what looked like key components.

Malik turned to the Captain and said, “Money, Guns.”

He looked directly at Malik, “The money we have is in the safe in my cabin. Our only weapon is there also.”

“Take me there.”

The Captain turned down a passageway and began to descend a short flight of stairs. Malik glanced at his watch and followed.

The Captain's cabin was neat with photographs of a large blond woman and two blond teenage girls, hanging on the wall. Several books in a language Malik didn't recognize lay on a small pull-down table. The European went straight to a safe in the corner and began to turn the dial on its front. He pulled down the handle and stepped back, leaving the door open.

The Captain said, “Take what you want.”

Malik pointed his gun at the safe and replied, “You empty it.”

Malik couldn't remember if there was a special English word for that kind of table and just pointed at it.

“Put it there.”

The Captain took a cash box and a pile of papers out the safe, put them on the table, and then stepped back. Malik reached over to open the cash box. When he turned back to the Captain, he was standing with a pistol in his hand. Malik started to raise his own pistol before he realized the man was offering the weapon to him, not pointing it at him.

The Captain said, “Take it. It is the only weapon on board.”

Malik reached out and snatched the gun from the man's hand. He knew the European could have killed him if he had the nerve. His finger tightened round the trigger of his pistol. He wanted to kill the man for having exposed his weakness, but that would bring more attention from the authorities, and Wang had stressed no unnecessary violence. It was part of their deal.

He gestured toward the door with his pistol, and the Captain moved around him and left the cabin. Malik shoved the second pistol into his belt, grabbed the cash box, then spread the documents out looking for the captain's log. He found what he was looking for and put it in his pocket.

When he reached the corridor, the Captain was waiting for him. Malik realized he needed another man with him. He could easily lose control of the situation when he was on his own like this.

As soon as the Captain saw him leave the cabin, he turned and ascended the stairs that led back to the bridge. Malik followed him.

The other crewmembers sat on the floor of the bridge with their hands on their heads. Two of his men stood guard over them.

Malik glanced again at his watch, six minutes and twenty seconds since they had entered the bridge, just over eight minutes since they had boarded the ship.

Malik said to his men, “We're finished.”

The black-hooded men headed for the door. Malik was the last to leave the bridge. He couldn't resist a last look at his watch, six minutes and forty-five seconds. Wang had stressed to him that they had to get the whole operation, from boarding to leaving the ship, completed in less than ten minutes, and the time from entering the bridge to leaving it, under seven minutes. This was the first boarding, where he and his men had achieved those times.

When Malik reached the bottom of the stairs, he could see the men ahead of him climbing over the ship's rail. He ran down the deck until he was above the boat. Then quickly climbed over the rail, grabbed one of the ropes and slid down, landing hard on the bottom of the wooden boat. His men were releasing the ropes before he got up.

The helmsman gunned the engine, pushing the tiller hard over to the left. The small boat sped away from the massive ship and disappeared into the darkness.

As the small boat headed back into the maze of islands and inlets along the Indonesian shore, Malik thought they had earned their five thousand dollar payment tonight. While he still didn't understand why they had to execute these operations at six hours notice, he was learning the importance of timing as an aid to organizing complex operations. It forced him to mentally prepare exactly what would happen on board the ship and make sure every man understood his role. Malik appreciated the training he was getting in executing operations swiftly and smoothly.

***

The crew on standby ran out to a twin-engined light plane waiting beside the runway at Seletar Airport. The plane was registered to a company owned by the Singapore Government.

The plane took off and climbed into the air following a flight path to the southwest, crossing the Singapore coastline west of Jurong Island. Over the ocean, it turned northwest and flew at five thousand feet, holding to a path directly up the center of the Malacca Strait and slightly to the south of the international maritime boundary between Malaysia and Indonesia.

Two technicians sat in the area behind the pilot and copilot intently occupied by an array of monitors and instrument displays

Fifteen minutes later the pilot spoke over the plane's intercom. “We will be there in approximately thirty seconds. What do you want me to do?”

“Turn to the southeast on a heading of two four five”

“OK, turning now.”

The technician could clearly see the infrared image of a small boat approximately nine kilometers southeast of where the mayday message had reported the piracy incident. Tracing back the boat's path would intersect almost exactly with the ship's reported position. The technician thought this has to be the boat.

“I think I've got him.”

“Give me a release point.”

The technician made a series of calculations, then entered a number into a keyboard. He said to the pilot, “Maintaining this heading, we need to release in exactly fourteen seconds. Can you manage that? If not, let me know and I'll do a calculation that gives you more time.”

“I think I can manage that.”

Fourteen seconds later a pod underneath the plane released a sleek gray torpedo-shaped object that arced down toward the ocean below.

The technician waited to see if it resurfaced and started transmitting.

“OK, it's transmitting. I just need to see if it finds the target before we can get out here.”

“Make it quick. Even the Indonesians will eventually notice a plane flying randomly around their airspace.”

The technician matched the current position of the boat heading away from the pirate attack and the location transmitted by the object they had dropped. It looked like his calculations were spots on. They should intersect within one hundred meters.

“OK, it’s got a sonar lock. We can leave now.”

The plane turned back toward Singapore and the Seletar Airport.

On the way back, the young copilot who had been intently plotting the plane's position felt he could relax.

He asked the pilot, “Do you think the Indonesians noticed us?”

“Possibly, but if they did, we will issue a statement saying the plane had navigational problems.”

“Will they believe us?”

“Probably not, but then they don't believe us when we tell the truth.”

***

A senior Naval Officer entered a large warehouse-like building on the outskirts of Washington, D.C. After going through two security checks, he was led through the cavernous interior past row after row of racks containing computers, Internet routers and other computer equipment.

A sign on one wall caught his attention as he walked past. It said, 'Whoever has information fastest and uses it, wins'.

The directions he had been given, led to an office that was cluttered by the normal standards of a naval officer. The clutter reassured him that this was a man more interested in getting the job done than in maintaining an appearance.

“Impressive operation you have here, Commander Braddock. That's the most computer equipment I have ever seen in one place. How many computers are out there?”

“We don't keep a running count. It's over four thousand now, although the Navy is not responsible for running them. This facility is shared between a large number of programs. The main reason we are here is not to be close to the computers, which frankly could be anywhere. It's to be close to other shared resources, like translators.”

“How is the Maritime Piracy Detection Program progressing?”

“Very well, sir. We are adding new interfaces every few weeks, and those interfaces, give us access to new data streams and existing databases. They represent additional gigabytes of data we can mine. All the data the program needs is already available. But for the program to help you with your problem, I need incidents to work with, because without incidents we can't find patterns and connections, and without patterns and connections we can't identify piracy incidents at the preparation stage.”

Commander Braddock continued, “Get me data on actual piracy incidents and you will be surprised by what those thousands of computers and terrabytes of data out there can tell you.”

The senior Naval Officer replied, “We are working on it.”

***

Captain Habib walked down the street and saw his informer waiting for him in the back of the coffee shop. The man didn't see him, so he looked away and continued walking. He'd let him sweat for another ten minutes. Habib knew that time was invariably on his side.

Habib strolled a few hundred meters down the street, turned and came back. He walked into the cheap coffee shop. His immaculately pressed TNI uniform got the attention of the patrons and the hubbub of conversation died down. His informer looked up and saw him. Habib walked up to the man and didn't sit at the table.

“What have you got for me that justifies bringing me here?”

“I have some information.”

“Habib smiled and said, “Providing information is why you are still walking around and not in prison or worse.”

“I need some money.”

Habib knew the dirty, disheveled man in front of him was an amphetamine addict.

He replied, “It depends on what the information is.”

“I've heard that Jemaah Islamiyah is planning an operation.”

“You've heard. Where did you hear this, in some drug dive?”

“No. My cousin in going to marry one of the men who are organizing it, I heard it from him directly. One night he got drunk and boasted how he was going to make a lot of money from the operation.”

“What else do you know?”

“A man called Malik is planning the operation.”

“Where is he from?”

“Medan, I think.”

Habib said, “If you are lying, I know where to find you.”

He then took a small roll of Indonesian currency from his pocket and pressed it into the hand of the man sitting at the table.

Habib thought, it always paid to have informers around other informers, because it helped catch them out in their lies.

Chapter 2

Chapter 58

2006-04-07T02:35:00.000-07:00

Singapore
November 15, 2006

Straits Times

Fire Guts Chinatown Shophouse

Singapore: A fire late yesterday afternoon gutted a shophouse on Boon Hat Street in Chinatown.

A neighbor called the emergency services. A Civil Defence spokeswoman said their fire emergency response vehicle arrived in less than five minutes, but by that time, the hundred year old shophouse, which housed a ginseng and spice trading enterprise, was well ablaze.

Firefighters extinguished the fire, which caused extensive damage to the shophouse as well as minor damage to adjoining properties.

Two badly burned bodies were found inside the shophouse.

A police spokesman said, “One of the bodies is confirmed to be that of the proprietor Chun Liang, a forty two year old Chinese national with Singaporean residency.”

“The identity of the other victim is unknown, but we believe it was a customer, unfortunate enough to be in the shophouse at the time of the fire. The fire spread quickly and the victims were trapped in a storeroom at the rear of the shophouse.”

Madam Soo, a neighbor, described Chun as, “A quiet, polite man, who kept to himself.”

Chun Liang is not believed to have relatives in Singapore.

The Civil Defence spokeswoman said, “A preliminary investigation indicates the fire started in a poorly installed air conditioner and there were no suspicious circumstances to the blaze.”

The spokeswoman added, “If the bodies are unclaimed in forty eight hours, they will be cremated, in line with a recently announced change to regulations concerning indigent and unidentified deaths. The victim’s ashes will be held in storage, in case relatives come forward to claim the remains. DNA samples will be taken for future identification.”

***

Charles answered his phone.

Charles, it's Jason. I have just received some feedback from the Singapore Government on your contract. I thought you'd like to hear it.”

“Yes, I would.”

“Needless to say, they are happy with your performance, especially your role in stopping the hijacking of the LNG carrier. I'm not surprised, since they got to hear about some of our secret technology that could be very useful to their anti-piracy efforts.”

Charles responded, “In the circumstances, they needed to know.”

“Well, not everyone would agree with that assessment, but I doubt there will be any fallout from you letting that particular cat out of the bag. The Singaporean's are also very happy about the guidance you gave the Underwater Surveillance Device project. In fact, so happy, they want to offer you an extension to your contract.”

Charles responded, “I'm pleased my efforts were appreciated, but I don't think so.”

“I won't try and persuade you, Charles. You did everything I expected of you and more besides. In fact, I have a new project back here at DARPA that should be right up your street.”

Charles used the opportunity to ask Jason a question. “Maybe you can explain one thing to me, Jason. I can understand why Islamic terrorists would plan and execute a terrorism operation like this, but I hear there was substantial North Korean involvement and no one seems able to explain to me why they would be involved.”

Jason replied, “I think I can explain that to you without giving away any secrets you shouldn't hear about.

“The North Koreans have been trying for several years to interest South Korea in a natural gas and crude oil pipeline across their territory from the Russian border to South Korea. Their regime is chronically short of foreign exchange and they desperately need the money it would bring, in both construction revenues and ongoing transit fees. The latter is especially important to them, because a long-term, stable source of revenue would keep the regime in power for a long time, or so they believe. The South Koreans are, for obvious reasons, reluctant to give the North control over their energy supplies.

“The North Koreans felt the South would be more amenable to their proposal and less concerned about vulnerabilities to supply disruption by the North, if the vulnerability to disruptions of their current energy supplies were, let's say, demonstrated. I understand the original plan called specifically for the hijacking of South Korean ships.”

Charles said, “You mean the North Koreans funded and supplied the biggest act of maritime terrorism the world has ever seen, as a negotiating tactic?”

“That appears to be the case. Although, we will never know if they intended to go through with it, because Islamic terrorists from an organization called Tanzeem Qaedat al-Jihad, an offshoot of Jemaah Islamiyah, took over the plan for their own ends.”

“That's one of the craziest things I have ever heard.”

“Crazy like a fox perhaps. Some analysts think the North Koreans intended that Islamic terrorists take over the plan they created, funded and supplied. Thus creating another layer of separation between them and the terrorist hijackings. Remember, no one directly involved in the hijackings knew the North Koreans were behind the plot, and without our secret satellite and data mining programs, we would never have made the connection. Even then, were it not for one careless phone call lasting a couple of seconds that led us to one of their secret operatives, we would have assumed the North Korean involvement was limited to selling equipment to the terrorists.

“Besides, this is North Korea we are talking about. Very little of what they do, fits most of the world's definition of sane and rational.”

***

Carl picked up the phone and waited for the Assistant Director of the CIA's Clandestine Service to come on the secure line to Washington.

“What have you got for me Carl?”

”The Singaporeans are offering unlimited access to their two North Korean prisoners.”

“What do they want in exchange?”

“Access to our small boat tracking data in the Malacca and Singapore Straits.”

“That's a big ask. No one outside the US Intelligence community gets that data.”

“They say they are uniquely placed to utilize the data to the benefit of all nations using the Strait.”

“That will sell well on the Hill, but I'm more interested in what kind of meat is in the sandwich and how much of it we get. Hardly a day goes by without I have to explain why we can't come up with more human intelligence.”

The Singaporeans say, one of the prisoners is singing like a canary. He's giving up all kinds of interesting information.”

“Well, they would say that.”

Carl said, “They are offering more. They say, in exchange for access to the small boat data they are prepared to use it to apprehend individuals of particular interest involved in piracy from Indonesian territory, then rendition them to us. That is, after a short delay, while they interrogate them.

“Now, that's starting to sound like a deal we might be interested in.”

“There are some conditions attached to the offer.”

“I'm sure there are, but go ahead and start talking about the terms of a deal, and I'll try and muster support for it here in Washington.”

Carl said, “There's one other thing.”

“What's that?”

“They again raised the rendition of our prisoner to them.”

“So they can hang him?”

“I'd say that's highly likely.”

The Assistant Director said, “The prisoner has given us all the information he knows. If it were my decision, I'd hand him over today. He was responsible for nineteen deaths and could have killed tens of thousands more. As far as I am concerned he deserves to hang, but the Administration doesn't want the political storm handing him over would cause. So, he'll stay in his nice cozy prison cell, until we decide holding him serves no further purpose and we release him. When we do, his life expectancy will drop dramatically, because I don't think the Singaporeans will forget he caused the death of eighteen of their elite troops.”

Carl said, “I'll tell them, the answer's still no.”

The head of the CIA's Clandestine Service put down the phone. In two hours, he had to testify before a congressional committee investigating why, in light of the intelligence available, a terrorism alert wasn't issued prior to the Malacca Strait hijackings.

The CIA was going to take some of the heat, but the main event would be hanging a Naval Officer out to dry, someone by the name of Braddock.

The End

Chapter 57

2006-04-07T02:33:00.000-07:00

Indonesia, Near Sebauk Town, Bintan Island
November 14, 2006, 11:00 local time

Jackson looked back at the police car. Both of the policemen were still investigating the van. It was perhaps two hundred meters back to the road, and when they reached it, they would be three hundred meters from the policemen. He liked his odds better with armed country cops than with giant flesh eating lizards.

Jackson said, “I say we go back to the road and use it to get to the other side of the creek.”

Joe shrugged and said, “You're in charge, Sarge.”

“Let's make this fast. When we get to the road, we cross to the other side of the creek, then run back along the creek and resume our previous route. Let's go.”

Jackson led the way back to the road, his boots splashing in water along the way. He took care to avoid what looked to be deeper water. As they approached the road, he saw they had attracted the attention of the policemen, one of whom was pointing in their direction.

They were still thirty meters from the road, when the policemen got back into their car and started driving around the van. The police car would be at their crossing point on roadway at the same time Jackson and Joe reached it.

Jackson stopped and looked at the placid green water, wondering what lurked under it. He said, “We are going to have to swim. You first. I'll follow close behind you.”

Joe began running back along the creek, as he looked for a place to cross.

Jackson saw the police car stop on the roadway at the point they had intended to cross the creek. Neither of the policemen got out of the vehicle.

Jackson knew he should update the pickup on their situation, but decided getting to their pickup location as fast possible was a higher priority. He turned and ran after Joe.

Joe stopped and said, “This looks a good place to cross. The creek is flowing a little faster here and that means it's probably shallower.”

Jackson responded, “Make it fast, we are already late for the pick up.”

Joe stepped into the creek and was immediately chest deep in the water.

“The bottom is soft mud. I'm going to swim.”

Joe started swimming with a breaststroke action. Jackson followed him into the water, shutting out thoughts of snakes and flesh eating lizards, just concentrating on getting across to the other side.

Jackson was less than halfway across the creek, when Joe climbed the opposite bank. Jackson swam as fast as he could to reach the opposite side, then struggled to climb the steep muddy bank. Joe ignored him and watched the roadway.

“Give me a hand.”

Joe responded, “We have more company, Sarge. Looks like the military.”

Joe helped him up onto the bank. When he was up, Jackson could see the camouflage-green truck speeding down the road in their direction.

Jackson's heard a voice on his radio say, “We are coming in now.”

He looked in the direction of their pick up location and saw a civilian helicopter approaching.

The military looking truck halted behind the police car. Armed soldiers jumped off the back and fanned out along the roadside.

Jackson said into the radio, “We are still a kilometer to a kilometer and a half from the pick up, and we won't make it in time. You need to come to us. We are almost due east of the pick up in open country and one hundred meters from the roadway. Repeat, we need you to come to us.”

“Anyone else around?”

“There are a dozen armed soldiers on the roadway, approximately a hundred and fifty meters from our position.”

“I'll come take a look, but it sounds like I can't pick you up there, too risky. We could handle a couple of cops, but not a squad of soldiers. I'll see if there is a backup extraction plan.”

Joe pointed toward the road and said, “Sarge, we need to get out of here.”

Jackson saw that several of the soldiers had taken up kneeling positions with their rifles up. A halfway decent marksman would have no difficulty hitting them with a rifle at this distance.

Jackson shouted, “Run.”

The two of them ran up the side of the creek, away from the soldiers. Jackson expected rounds to whip past them at any moment. Fifteen seconds later, they had doubled their distance from the soldiers and Jackson slowed down to give his pounding heart some respite. Joe was ten meters ahead of him.

During their run, Jackson had heard his radio, but had ignored it. He looked back. The soldiers had left the roadway and were advancing line abreast toward them. The soldiers obviously intended to try to capture them.

Kidnapping was doubtless an extremely serious offense here and the police had caught them red-handed. Jackson knew they needed to outrun the soldiers until a backup plan to retrieve them was in place, or face the prospect of a long time in an Indonesian jail.

Joe stopped ahead of him.

Jackson heard his radio again. “I can see you and the soldiers pursuing you. Sorry, but I can't pick you up. We only have two armed men on board. A backup extraction is being arranged.”

“Acknowledged.”

Joe said, “What now, Sarge?”

Jackson fought to get enough air to speak. “We keep running until there is another extraction attempt, and hope those soldiers don't get tired of chasing us and start shooting instead.”

The two of them continued at a jog along the side of the creek. The Indonesian soldiers followed them at walk, several hundred meters behind.

Jackson said into the radio, “We will keep ahead of our pursuers until the new extraction.”

“I know I can see you. We are overhead and keeping high enough to stay out of range. Backup extraction is on its way. ETA twenty minutes. Keep moving guys.”

“Can you tell us what's ahead?”

“The creek you are following enters a largish river about fifteen hundred meters ahead. Suggest that you angle away to your left to avoid getting trapped.”

Jackson replied, “Will do.”

For the next five minutes, Jackson and Joe stayed comfortably ahead of their pursuers.

Jackson heard on his radio, “There is an Indonesian military helicopter approaching from the southwest. They are asking who we are. We need to get out of here. ETA of backup is now fifteen minutes. Code name is Blue Falcon. Good luck guys and keep moving.”

Jackson looked back and saw the pursuing troops were well behind them. What happened next depended on what the approaching Indonesian military helicopter did.

He watched the helicopter come toward them. It looked like a European model and was armed.

Joe jogged ahead of him, and from the angle of his head, also watched the helicopter's approach.

Jackson increased his speed to catch up with Joe.

When he drew level with Joe, he said, “Make for the trees to our left.”

While trees marked areas of deep water, they would prevent a helicopter from landing on top of their position.

Jackson added, “ETA of backup is now less than fifteen minutes.”

Joe asked, “Any idea what's coming?”

“They didn't tell me, but I assume it's Navy.”

The two men reached the trees and waded thigh-deep into the green water. The trees were tall with straight trunks and almost no branches on their lower halves. They had the same high roots as the trees on the islands that radiated out from around the base of the trunk. Some roots were waist-high.

“Joe, be careful of the tree roots underwater. They are a lot higher than on the trees we are used to and go a long way from the trunk.”

“I know, I just walked into one and nearly fell over it into the water.”

Jackson continued watching the soldiers and the helicopter. The soldiers had stopped pursuing them and the helicopter was heading toward them. It landed a short distance from the Indonesian soldiers. One of them approached the helicopter, and shortly afterwards six of the soldiers climbed aboard the helicopter.

With the soldiers on board, the helicopter rose into the air and swung in their direction. It passed low over the trees and settled to the ground two hundred meters further on. All six of the soldiers disembarked and began to fan out, forming a line. The soldiers clearly intended to come at them from two directions and trap them.

Joe said, “How long before the backup extraction arrives?”

Jackson looked at his watch. “Less than ten minutes.”

“Sarge, any ideas as to how we can hold them off till then?”

Jackson didn't respond. Their situation was bad. They were unarmed and couldn't hold off the Indonesian soldiers until the extraction team arrived. They might be able to make a run for it between the two groups of soldiers, but it would take them to within meters of the encircling soldiers and make them an easy target if the soldiers decided to shoot.
Jackson saw that Joe had taken out his knife and was flipping it between the handle and blade, in the same way he did when he practiced throwing it.

Jackson said, “Put that away, Corporal. You'll just get us shot.”

Joe put his knife back in its sheath.

Jackson spoke into his radio. “Sergeant Jackson here. Blue Falcon, can you hear me?”

After a brief delay he heard, “We hear you, Sergeant.”

“Our situation is critical. We are about to be captured. Repeat, we are about to be captured.”

“What is your exact location?”

“We are in a stand of trees approximately one kilometer east of the original pick up point.”

“Anything distinctive about the trees? There are a lot around.”

“There is a helicopter on the ground two hundred meters northwest of the trees and two groups of Indonesian army soldiers nearby. One group is near the helicopter, and the other is about three hundred meters away on the other side of the trees. We are in those trees. There are thirty or forty large trees growing in what you might call a pond.”

“That sounds enough to recognize it from the air. Standby, Sergeant.”

Both groups of soldiers continued to advance toward them. The six deposited by the helicopter were now only a hundred meters away from the edge of the trees.

Joe asked, “What do you think the Navy is going to do?”

Jackson was about to tell Joe, when the ear splitting, teeth rattling roar of an F-18 on full afterburners, hit them like a solid wall.

The fighter jet went straight over the six Indonesian soldiers closest to them, at less than thirty meters. All six fell to the ground. Jackson looked behind him and saw the soldiers on the other side of them were still standing but stopped.

He looked up into the sky and through the treetops could see the jet climbing towards its partner circling in the sky high above.

Joe said, “Shit man, I wasn't expecting that.”

Jackson had, but didn't say anything. Fighter jets that kept watch from high up normally accompanied naval helicopters on a mission like this. He hadn't seen the jets, but he was sure they were there.

He'd seen the low-level full afterburners trick pulled in Afghanistan, and it was a fair bet that most of the Indonesian soldiers now on the ground needed a change of underwear.

Jackson searched the horizon for the rescue helicopters.

Less than five minutes later, he saw a pair of what looked like Blackhawks in the distance. He checked on the Indonesian soldiers and they continued to retreat away from their position. A hot landing zone looked unlikely.

Jackson said into the radio. “Blue Falcon, I can see your helicopters approaching from the west. We are on the southwest side of that stand of trees five kilometers directly ahead of you. No hostile forces in the immediate vicinity.”

“We hear you. Coming in.”

Jackson said to Joe, “Our ride is almost here, Corporal.”

Joe responded, “I see them. We need to get away from these trees, so they can pick us up. I'll be glad to get out of here. I've had enough excitement for one day.”

As they waded back out of the pond, Jackson saw, in the distance, the police car leaving at high speed in the direction of town. It was a fair bet they were taking the man Jackson and Joe had apprehended with them.

The helicopters arrived before Jackson and Joe were clear of the trees. Up close, Jackson recognized them as Seahawks, the naval version of the Blackhawks he was familiar with. Jackson knew they used a civilian helicopter for the drop off and initial pick up, because it wouldn't attract the same attention as a military aircraft and would be unlikely to cause a military response by the Indonesians. However, as a soldier, he was glad the US Navy was now here in force.

One helicopter flew a figure of eight pattern several hundred meters in the air, while the other touched down a short distance from the trees. Jackson saw its wheels sink into the boggy ground. The pair ran toward it and climbed aboard. The helicopter lifted off and turned back in the direction it had come from.

There were nine men on board the helicopter, an officer, two pilots, two gunners and a four-man protection detail armed with assault rifles.

The Naval Officer said, “Welcome aboard, Sergeant, Corporal. I'm Lieutenant Morales. Now let's get the hell out of here.”

Jackson responded, “Lieutenant, there is one more thing we need to do.”

“What's that, Sergeant?”

“Retrieve our prisoner.”

“That's not part of my orders. What's involved retrieving this prisoner, Sergeant?”

“A police car has just left, heading back toward the town of Sebauk. They have our prisoner. If we move quickly, we should be able to chase it down, before it gets close to town, and take our prisoner back.”

“Let me confirm that, Sergeant.”

The Naval Lieutenant talked on his radio, then said, “Seems someone wants that prisoner real bad. I have full authorization to do whatever it takes to get him back. Let me give instructions to the pilots, then you can tell me who he is and why he's so important.”

Jackson waited for the Lieutenant's attention, then said, “I don't know who he is. All I know is that he was involved in the ship hijackings yesterday and he's believed to be one of the organizers.”

The helicopter followed the police car at high speed, a little to one side of the road. Jackson could see the car's flashing lights a kilometer ahead, through the helicopter's front windshield. The second helicopter was on the other side of the road matching their speed. Both helicopters rapidly gained on the police car.

Lieutenant Morales said, “You will have to get out and ID the prisoner. Make it fast, Sergeant. Flying around foreign countries on covert missions makes me nervous, even when I have F-18s overhead. If we are not out of here before the Indonesian Air Force turns up, this could trigger a shooting war.”

Jackson watched the other Seahawk helicopter pull ahead of them, then position itself in front of the police car, which immediately braked to a halt, slewing across the road and onto the gravel shoulder. Both policemen dived out of the car and ran in opposite directions away from the roadway.

Their Seahawk settled onto the roadway just behind the abandoned police car, while the other Seahawk hovered directly over the road ahead of the police car.

Jackson couldn't see anyone in the car. He inwardly cursed his bad luck. Their prisoner wasn't in the police car after all. He must be still unconscious in the van.

The four-man protection detail jumped out of the helicopter and took up a perimeter.

The Lieutenant said to Jackson, “Sergeant, go and see if your prisoner is in the car.”

He then drew his pistol from its holster and said, “Here, take this.”

Jackson jumped out of the helicopter and ran through its downwash toward the police car. He approached the car and looked into the side window. Their prisoner was lying unconscious along the back seat. Jackson thought that two hits of the knockout spray must keep you out for a long time. It flashed through his mind that the man might be dead.

Jackson opened the car door and prepared to pull the unconscious man out of the back seat. He would need help to carry the man and turned to signal one of the protection detail to come over.

As he looked in the direction of the nearest sailor, he felt the pistol wrenched from his hands. Jackson dived away from the car. He couldn't believe how careless he'd been. His desire to recapture the prisoner had got in the way of his training and the need to stay in control of the situation at all times.

He shouted to the protection detail, “He's got my weapon. Don't shoot. We need him alive.”

Two of the sailors immediately came to either side of the police car, their rifles trained on the man in the back seat.

Jackson heard Lieutenant Morales on his radio headset. “Sergeant, I've just been informed Indonesian military aircraft are on their way. ETA less than eight minutes. We can't wait while you negotiate. Finish it now.”

Jackson knew he had to act quickly or their prized intelligence catch would be just a corpse on the roadside.

“Give me a couple of minutes.”

“That's the absolute most you will get.”

Jackson stood up, raised his hands and approached the police car.

He called out, “Do you speak English?”

The man in the police car responded, “What do you want?”

“There are only two ways out of this for you. Either you surrender to me, or the men with rifles shoot you dead.”

“What happens if I surrender?”

Jackson told the man the truth. “You will be held in a detention facility and well treated there. If you are charged and found guilty, you may spend a very long time in prison, but I don't think anything you have done will result in you being prosecuted in an American court. If you cooperate and tell us everything you know you may be set free after a period of time.”

The man looked at the man pointing rifle at him and said, “I will surrender to you with one condition. I have money that I need to send to my family. Will you promise to send it to them?”

Lieutenant Morales came on the radio. “Sergeant, you have thirty seconds left.”

Jackson knew he had to decide and said, “I will do my best to ensure the money is sent.”

The man offered him two thick packages. “It needs to go Madam Walandari at the Pradha Guest House in Jakarta. It's on Jalan Kateng. Here is your gun.”

Jackson took the packages and the Lieutenant's weapon. He pointed the pistol at the prisoner and said, “Put you hands on your head as you exit the car.”

The man complied and passively proceeded Jackson toward the helicopter. One of the gunners pulled him on board. The gunner had drawn his pistol and used it to indicate to the prisoner where he should sit. He then handcuffed both his wrists to the seat, before fastening his seatbelt. Jackson followed the prisoner into the helicopter and returned to his previous seat beside the Lieutenant.

“Sergeant, what was in that package the prisoner gave you?”

“Evidence to be used against my prisoner, sir.” Jackson emphasized the word 'my'.

“It may be evidence, but it will go in my report.”

Jackson ignored the naval Lieutenant's emphasis on 'will' and the implication he might be corrupt. He would keep his word and do his best to ensure the money was sent to the address the prisoner had told him, but he knew it wouldn't. The Army had very clear rules on captured terrorist funds. It would be used as evidence against him, then allocated for public works in an area Special Forces were operating.

Chapter 58

Chapter 56

2006-04-07T02:24:00.000-07:00

Indonesia, Sebauk Town, Bintan Island
November 14, 2006, 11:00 local time

Malik took his change from the fifty thousand Rupiah and stepped out into the street. He didn't notice the tall athletic-looking man, who crossed the street and followed a discrete distance behind him. Nor did he notice the small white van moving slowly up the street and periodically stopping.

Malik started walking in the direction of the harbor, where Saiful would be waiting for him. He turned down a narrow street that he thought led to the harbor.

The white van drove past him at speed then braked, stopping in the middle of the street ahead of him. There were no were sidewalks and the van blocked his way. He moved out into the street to go around it, just as a large man got out of the van. Despite the hat and dark glasses he wore, Malik could see his skin was black.

Alarm bells went off in his head and he turned to run. An equally tall but slimmer Asian man was directly behind him. Malik reached for the knife in a sheath on his belt. The Asian man raised his arm and pointed something in Malik's face. His world turned upside down and he sank to the ground.

Jackson walked up to Joe and said, “That stuff works fast.”

He looked down at the man slumped on the ground. He was definitely one of the men they had seen in the boat leaving the island.

“We've got the right guy. Let's get him in the van before anyone comes to find out what's happening.”

The two men lifted the body under the arms and dragged him the short distance to the rear of the van. Jackson opened the van's rear door and they pulled the unconscious man in.

Jackson said, “You ride in the back in case he wakes up, but be careful about giving him another shot of that spray in the confined space of the van. I don't want both of you unconscious when we arrive.”

Jackson looked back and could see two curious onlookers standing a safe distance away. He went to the driver's side of the van, got in and drove off down the street. He would get out of town, before he consulted the map.

At the end of the narrow street, Jackson turned onto a wider street that headed in the right direction. Jackson recalled from the map that the town only had three or four of these wide streets and they all led to the only road out of the small town.

Jackson pulled out his hand-held radio and pressed transmit.

“We managed to apprehend one of them. We are on our way out of town.”

“The voice on the other end said, “Why only one?”

Before Jackson could respond, a motorcycle pulled out in front of the van forcing him to brake. He looked up and saw there was a traffic circle ahead. An obstacle Jackson had only encountered a few times before.

Jackson needed to concentrate on his driving, but felt some response was needed.

“They separated. We could only follow one of them.”

The van approached the traffic island and Jackson slowed down. Vehicles were going around the traffic circle at what seemed the maximum possible speed. That, combined with driving on the wrong side of the road, momentarily nonplussed Jackson. He knew he should have let Joe drive.

The response from the radio was lost, as Jackson dropped it on the van's floor and hit the accelerator, aiming for a gap in the traffic around the circle. The van jumped forward, but more slowly than he anticipated. A blare of horns met his entry onto the traffic circle. Seconds later, the road out of town, on the opposite side of the traffic circle approached.

A voice came over the radio, as Jackson saw a car to his left was blocking his way off the traffic circle. He hit the horn and turned sharply to the left, hoping the car's driver had the sense to get out of his way.

The front of the car hit the side of the van with a dull crunch, followed by the sound of tearing metal. Jackson felt the van's rear pushed away, causing the vehicle to lose traction and speed.

Joe said, “What the fuck's happening, man.”

“Radio distracted me and I had an accident. The vehicle's still going, so I'm heading to the pick up location at top speed for this piece of shit.”

Jackson pressed the accelerator to the floor, ignoring the sound of metal scraping on metal. He repeatedly hit the van's horn to warn anyone ahead they were coming. Most of the traffic was small motorcycles that kept to the side of the road. The road itself was not much wider than a single lane that had to accommodate vehicles in both directions. On either side of the paved section, there was a gravel shoulder that vehicles had to move partially onto, in order to pass a vehicle coming in the opposite direction.

Jackson drove down the center of the paved section. He kept pressing the horn, and the first oncoming car they encountered got the message, pulling fully onto the hard shoulder to let him pass.

The motorcycles similarly got the message and moved onto the hard shoulder as the van approached, its horn blaring.

The next three oncoming vehicles, as well as one going in the same direction as them, slowed and pulled onto the hard shoulder to let them pass, without forcing the van to slow down. Jackson was beginning to think he might have discovered a local driving rule. The vehicle that uses its horn the most gets the right of way.

They left the town's outskirts behind and entered a scrubby forest with occasional cleared areas and a few small houses along the roadside. Jackson thought he had the situation sufficiently under control to use the radio.

“Jackson here. We had a problem, but things are now under control, and we are on our way to the pick up. We will be there in five minutes. Repeat, five minutes.”

Joe said from the back of the van, “You hear that, Sarge?”

He pulled the radio away from his ear and said, “What?”

“Sounds like a siren.”

With the radio away from his ear, Jackson could now hear the siren. He looked into his rear view mirror. He could see flashing lights on top of a white car far behind them.

He spoke into the radio. “The local police are pursuing us. Might need some help at the pick up.”

“The pick up is on its way. I'll let them know. They should be able to handle the situation.”

Jackson looked into his rear view mirror. The police car was rapidly gaining on them. The good news was that as long as they kept to the center of the road, it would be difficult for the police car to pass them on the sloping loose material of the hard shoulder.

Joe said, "He's waking up.”

“Use the spray to put to him under again.”

“What about me?”

“Take a deep breath first, and let me know when you are about to do it, so I can too.”

Joe said, “About to spray the prisoner.”

Jackson took a deep breath and reached for the window handle, in order to wind it down, just as a heavily laden pickup truck pulled onto the road twenty meters in front of them. Jackson hit the horn and the brakes at the same time.

He found he was breathing and hoped he wasn't getting any of that knockout gas in him.

“Joe, you OK?”

Joe's strained voice came back. “Still holding my breath.”

“I breathed in. Come sit in the front seat and watch me. Make sure that knockout gas doesn't affect me. Start slapping me if I seem to be going under. The prisoner should be out till we reach the pick up location.”

“Will do, Sarge.”

Joe climbed into the front seat and asked, “What are the cops doing?”

“They are gaining on us. I've asked for help at the pick up. Adjust the mirror on your side so you can watch them.”

The pickup truck in front of them refused to move to the side of the road despite Jackson holding down the van's horn. Jackson shook his head to try to clear whatever effect the spray might have had. He felt OK, but knew that wasn't a reliable indicator.

He looked in his rear view mirror. The police car with its flashing lights was now directly behind them. The three vehicles moved in convoy at a sedate fifty kilometers an hour.

The scraping metallic sound was getting worse and a burning smell now accompanied it. He estimated there was another three kilometers to the turnoff, another three or four minutes at their current speed.

Jackson looked in his mirror again and saw the police car was still right behind them.

“Joe, what can you see on your side?”

“I can see someone leaning out of the passenger side window pointing a revolver at us.”

Jackson knew their options were limited. Swerving or braking would be unlikely to achieve anything except sending the van off the road. The quicker they got to the pick up location the better.

Jackson heard the distinctive sound of a small caliber weapon firing a single shot, then a second.

“He's shooting at our rear, probably trying to hit a tire.

There was a loud bang, and the way the van slewed to the side of the road, told Jackson they had shot out a rear tire.

Joe said, “Being unarmed sucks. Otherwise, I'd say stop, disarm those hick cops and disable their vehicle.”

Jackson didn't reply and concentrated on keeping the van on the road despite the blown tire. The road had entered an area where the forest looked like it had been recently cut. For some reason, isolated groups of trees had been left standing.

“Sarge, there's smoke in the back of the van.”

“I smell it.”

The van was slowing down and the pickup truck ahead was pulling away from them, despite Jackson pressing the accelerator right to the floor. As the van slowed, Jackson reached a decision.

“Joe, get ready to make a run for it. The pickup location is between one and two kilometers ahead of us, on the right-hand side of the road. When we are out of the vehicle, we need to leave the road immediately and head across country.”

“What about the prisoner?”

“We leave him.”

The van continued to slow and would soon stop completely.

Joe said, as much to himself as Jackson, “Well, it's that son of a bitch's lucky day. He just missed out on a very long vacation, with three squares a day, at some place that doesn't officially exist.”

The van had almost slowed to a speed, they could safely exit. Jackson briefly debated whether to jump while the van was still moving and likely have it run off the road, or hit the brakes and leave the van blocking the center of the road. The police car would be able to drive around it, but it might delay them long enough for him and Joe to get clear of the road without the police shooting at them.

Jackson said, “I'm about to brake. Get ready to jump and run. Follow me to the right. Make sure you stay close behind me. I'm going to try and keep the van between us and the cops until we are out of pistol range, then we go as fast as we can to the pick up location.”

“I'm ready, Sarge.”

Jackson had gone on a couple of training runs with Joe. He was the faster runner, and Jackson didn't want to twist an ankle or worse trying to keep up. With Joe behind him, he could make the pace.

He hit the brakes and the slow moving van came to an immediate halt.

Jackson pulled the door handle and shouted, “Run.”

He was out of the van and across the hard shoulder, before looking back to confirm Joe was behind him. Off the hard shoulder the ground, which had looked solid, was in fact a soggy marsh. His boots sank in with each step as he avoided branches and other debris from the recent logging.

Jackson headed for a small stand of trees about two hundred meters away. When he looked back again, he saw that Joe was directly behind him, running easily. Further back, he could see one of the cops was out of the car pointing his pistol in their direction, but he held his fire. Perhaps, he knew as well as Jackson that they were already out of effective range. Although a lucky shot might still hit one of them.

Less than a minute later, they reached the stand of trees and why the trees hadn't been logged became clear, they stood in a deep pool of green water.

As Jackson splashed knee-deep into the water, he raised his arm to stop Joe following him in.

Jackson looked back. The police hadn't left the roadway and were investigating the back of the van. If they were looking for smuggled or stolen goods, they would be sorely disappointed to find just a drugged man.

They needed to move fast. If the pick up team arrived and found they weren't there, they wouldn't wait around long.

Jackson said, “We need to keep moving. I estimate we are less than a kilometer from the track that leads to the pick up location. Five minutes at a good pace should get us there.”

Joe responded, “I'm nicely warmed up, Sarge. I could go faster.”

They started at a fast jog around the green pool with the stand of trees. Almost immediately, they encountered a marshy creek that cut across their planned route. Jackson looked at the green-brown, weed-choked water and debated whether to wade or swim across. The alternative was to backtrack to the road and risk a confrontation with the police.

“What do you think, Joe?”

“I say we swim across and keep going in a straight line.”

Jackson hesitated. He wasn't a strong swimmer and had never been fully comfortable in the water. He looked along the creek and saw a huge black lizard, close to two meters long, lazily swimming down the creek toward them.

He said, “What about that?” pointing at the lizard.

Joe replied, “It's a Water Monitor, Sarge. They are common in this region. Looks scary, but it's harmless. Unless it thinks you are dead or can't fight back, then it will rip chunks out of you. I'd worry more about snakes.”

Joe's comments didn't reassure Jackson.

Chapter 57

Chapter 55

2006-04-07T02:21:00.000-07:00

Indonesia, the Riau Archipelago
Nov 13, 2006, 12:00 local time

Malik saw the twin engined plane approaching from the direction of Singapore. It was flying low over the water, down the center of the channel between Batam and Bintan islands. At first, he thought it was heading toward them and he told Saiful to steer the boat closer to shore. He searched for a place they could land and hide until the plane left.

He realized the plane would pass about five kilometers west of their location. He still thought its low level and closeness meant it was searching for them. He pointed toward a rocky inlet on a small island and told Saiful to head in that direction. He continued to watch the small plane as they approached the island. Malik thought he saw something drop from the plane, which then climbed and started to circle above the ocean.

Malik told Saiful to stop the boat beside the rock-walled inlet. It wasn't a good place to hide, as there was nowhere to go if they needed to leave the boat.

As the plane circled, it disappeared behind the island. Malik waited for the plane to come back into view.

When the plane reappeared, it was still circling over the ocean. Almost as if it was searching for something except it was searching in the same place all the time. Malik continued to watch the plane until it once again disappeared behind the small island.

Just after the plane reappeared from behind the island for the fourth time, he saw it turn and head back toward Singapore. A couple of minutes later, a military jet flying high in the sky came from the direction of the Sumatran mainland. He recognized the small single-engined jet from his time in Aceh, where the Government used them to bomb rebel and civilian targets. It looked like the Indonesian Air Force had driven off the Singaporean intruder. For the first time in his life, he was happy to see an Indonesian military aircraft.

Malik told Saiful it was safe for them to continue their journey.

Saiful had used the time to refuel the boat's engine from the container they found on the island.

Saiful said. “That's the last of the fuel. We need to stop soon and buy more.”

“How much further can we go with the fuel we have?”

“Maybe, thirty kilometers if we go slowly.”

Malik took out his GPS and checked their position relative to towns along the Bintan coast. The largest town was Tanjungpinang about thirty kilometers ahead. The map showed several smaller towns along the way.

The advantage of a larger town was that strangers wouldn't attract attention the way they would in a smaller place. The disadvantage was they were more likely to have a police or military presence. Malik decided on a place called Sebauk about twenty kilometers ahead.

Saiful started the engine and the wooden boat headed back out into the channel, and continued south. The small plane was now far to their left, heading back toward Singapore. The Indonesian Air Force plane circled high above them. Malik didn't think the plane was watching them, as a dozen other small boats were in view and doubtless many more could be seen from the plane. Nothing would distinguish their boat from the others.

***

When Sebauk's harbor came into view in the middle of the afternoon, Malik had to decide what to do with the weapon. Taking it into the harbor would be too risky, but he was still reluctant to drop it into the ocean. He told Saiful to land on a patch of sand on a small island just ahead of them. He would hide the weapon there and return for it on their way back.

The first thing they did when they arrived in the small town was to buy a decent meal. In the late afternoon, they were the only customers in the small coffee shop on a narrow side street. Paradoxically the service was slow, and it took over an hour for them to receive and eat their meal.

When they had finished eating, Malik gave Saiful some money and told him a list of things to buy. Malik got up to leave, telling Saiful he would meet him back at the boat in less than an hour. They needed to get out of the town well before dusk, in order to find somewhere to camp for the night.

Malik went into a nondescript shop with a Telekom Indonesia sign outside. He handed over fifty thousand Rupiah as a deposit, and the man behind the counter dialed the number Malik requested, then gave him the telephone handset.

A man answered with, “Pradha Guest House.”

Malik said, “I'd like to speak to Madam Walandari.”

“Please wait, while I get her.”

Malik waited, then heard a woman's voice on the line.

“Yes.”

“Mother, there’s been a change of plan. I'm on my way to Jakarta now. How is Kade?”

“She is fine and I have found a school for her. She misses her friends from Medan, but understands we are here to protect her.”

“I'll be there in a couple of days.”

“I will pray for your safe arrival, my son.”

Chapter 56

Chapter 54

2006-04-07T02:17:00.000-07:00

Singapore, Seletar Air Base
November 13, 2006, 09:00 local time

A Singapore Air force helicopter had taken Jackson and Joe off the LNG carrier in the early hours of the morning and brought them to an airbase in the center of Singapore. Since then they had been kept under armed guard. All they had been given was water.

Joe asked, “What do you think will happen to us, Sarge?”

“We'll either be treated as heroes or they'll throw us in jail for some violation of international law.”

“You really think they'll throw us in jail?”

Jackson realized fatigue, hunger and the uncertainty was making him bad-tempered.

“No, they will release us to our people. It's just that in a crisis, non-urgent things happen slowly, because the people who need to make the decision are busy with the important stuff. We are no longer important. Just be patient.”

A couple of hours later, two Singaporean military policemen entered the room where they were detained.

One of them said, “Follow me.”

Jackson asked, “Where are you taking us?”

“Just follow me.”

The MP ignored Jackson when he asked the question a second time.

Jackson and Joe followed the MP, while the second MP brought up the rear. Neither had drawn their weapon or seemed to be taking any special precautions. Both were in their early twenties and the slight hesitation he detected in their actions said to Jackson, they were probably conscripts or at least new at the job.

Jackson could easily take both of them out, but that would just make him and Joe fugitives in a foreign country. What would they do then? Try to get to the American Embassy. If they were lucky, they might make it. They'd need to hold the Military Police at gunpoint and force them to show him and Joe the way, which would be kidnapping and probably a few other serious crimes beside.

He'd wait and see how things developed.

The MP led them to a military police car with a steel grill between the rear seat and the front seats. He opened the back door and told them to get in. Jackson and Joe both entered the car through the same door.

The car left the airbase and after a few minutes entered a free flowing highway. Jackson thought from the road signs they were heading for the Central Business District, although he couldn't be sure because of the frequent confusing use of unfamiliar acronyms and abbreviated names on the signs.

A half an hour later, he found he was right about them heading toward the business district. He recognized where they were, a few minutes before the car turned into the driveway of the US Embassy.

Joe said, “I was worried there for a while, Sarge. Even though I was sure you were right when you said they would hand us over to our people.”

Jackson was touched by Joe's faith in his judgment.

One of the Singaporean Military Policemen got out of the car and talked briefly to a US Marine Lieutenant. He returned to the car, opened the rear door and brusquely told them to get out of the car.

The Marines separated Jackson and Joe. Two Marines took Jackson under escort into the Embassy building and left him in a small room containing a table, with a single plastic chair on one side and three plastic chairs on the other side. It looked suspiciously like an interrogation room.

One of the Marines returned a short time later with a plate of sandwiches and a selection of cold drinks in plastic bottles.

“Let me know if you need to use the bathroom, Sergeant. I'll be just outside the door.”

“I will Corporal, and thanks for the sandwiches.”

Jackson was ravenously hungry and began to eat his way through the sandwiches.

Forty minutes later, two men entered the room. Jackson could see that the two Marines who had escorted him to the room were standing guard outside.

One of the men took out a small tape recorder and placed in on the table. The other man started speaking. Jackson recognized Carl's voice.

“Sergeant Delisle Jackson, this is a formal debriefing on the events of the last twelve hours. We know the events that occurred, what we need from you is details of your role in those events. Please start at the point you and Corporal Bao joined the SEAL team.”

Jackson proceeded to recount what had happened since the previous evening. He wasn't interrupted and the second man made frequent notes.

It wasn't until he reached the point where he had Anil guide them through the ship that the questions started.

Carl asked, “What do you know about this man?”

Jackson replied, “Just what he told me. That he was an engineer responsible for the liquefied gas containment equipment.”

“Do you know his nationality?”

“I didn't ask.”

“Continue.”

Jackson continued with his description, knowing they were going to ambush him when he reached the point he gave the weapon to Anil, but seeing no way to avoid it.

“When I knew the SEALs weren't capable of playing a role in rescuing the hostages, I decided Corporal Bao and I would have to do it on our own. At that point, I asked Anil whether he had any weapons training. He said he had been a conscript in his country's army and was familiar with firearms. I gave him my pistol and told him to guard our rear.”

“So, you gave a CIA issued weapon to a civilian you knew nothing about, except that he was mentally disturbed after having seen a close friend callously murdered.”

Jackson replied, “I knew what he had told me about himself and he wasn't visibly disturbed. I'd describe him as remarkably calm in the circumstances.”

“Continue.”

Jackson described how Joe and he had killed three of the hijackers, then how he had chased down the fourth.

“After I fired a single shot to warn Anil the hijacker was heading in his direction, I heard Anil fire three shots at the hijacker. He hit him with at least one shot, possibly two. I wasn't close enough to see. When the terrorist went down, Anil approached him. I shouted that the man had a bomb vest, and might detonate it. Anil then shot the man in the head.”

“Was this the same hijacker who murdered his friend?”

“Yes, it was.”

“Did he shoot the hijacker in revenge for killing his friend?”

Jackson didn't hesitate and replied, “No. He shot him, because I had warned him the man constituted an immediate and deadly threat that had to be dealt with.”

“I don't believe you, Sergeant. I think you are covering up an unlawful killing and further that you are an accessory to that killing, because you supplied the weapon, used to kill the victim, to someone in a clearly unbalanced state of mind.”

Jackson said nothing.

Carl waited a considerable period waiting for Jackson to respond, before saying, “Fortunately for you, the killing occurred within the legal jurisdiction of the Republic of Korea, and the US Government is not going to allow a member of its Special Forces to go to Korea to stand trail there. However, it makes me even more determined to ensure you face a court-martial for your earlier dereliction of duty.

“What do you have to say to that, Sergeant Jackson?”

Jackson knew considerably more than the jumped-up jackass across the table from him about interrogation. He was transparently softening Jackson up to undertake another mission that he couldn't order Jackson to perform.

“I'm waiting for the offer I can't refuse, or at least you think I can't refuse.”

Carl's face visibly colored at the revelation Jackson was ahead of him in this game.

“Does that mean you will refuse my offer of dropping the court-martial, if you undertake one more mission for me?”

“I haven't heard what the mission entails, but it's a fair guess that I will politely decline your generous offer. I'll take my chances with a court-martial, assuming you go through with your threat, which I very much doubt. I'm a highly decorated, seventeen-year veteran. I can justify every decision I made and every action I took. I'd say my chances in front of that hypothetical court-martial are pretty good.”

Carl leaned back in his chair and said, “In that case, I'll have to send Corporal Bao on his own.”

“What?”

“You heard me, Sergeant. I'll have to send Corporal Bao without you. The mission requires someone who knows what the hijackers look like. There are only two men who do you and Bao. Don't worry Sergeant, I'll find someone to accompany him. Although, I doubt he will be of the same caliber as a highly decorated, seventeen-year veteran like you.

“That will be all, Sergeant. Oh, and by the way, Corporal Bao has already volunteered for the mission, so you won't be seeing him beforehand. I don't want you persuading him not to go. He will be surprised you aren't accompanying him. I did imply you had already volunteered.

Jackson jumped up and was about to lunge across the table, when the two burly Marines came into the room at the double.

Carl said, “Please escort the Sergeant to his quarters. He is under detention pending possible charges, so don't allow him talk to anyone along the way.”

Jackson left with the Marines. The man who had made the notes, but otherwise kept silent during his questioning, followed them. They proceeded to an elevator and one of the Marines pressed the Call button.

The man said to Jackson, “You were treated harshly in there, but this mission is crucial to national security and must go ahead. You and Corporal Bao are the only ones who can undertake it. I'd ask you to reconsider your refusal. With you leading the team, our chances of success are much better.”

That Joe's chances of coming out it alive were also much better was left unsaid.

Jackson knew he had been out maneuvered and answered, “I'll do it on one condition. That I get a written and fully authorized statement from the CIA, absolving me of responsibility for the death of the bomb maker and involvement in an unlawful killing on board the LNG carrier.”

“I'll see what I can do. Of course, any deal is conditional on you capturing the suspect alive, and I stress the word 'alive' given your recent performance in that respect. In the mean time, I suggest you get some rest, Sergeant. The mission will go ahead later today.”

Chapter 55

Chapter 53

2006-04-07T02:12:00.000-07:00

Singapore, the Embassy of the United States of America
November 13, 2006, 09:00 local time

Carl watched the slow progress of the small boat across the electronic map of the Singapore Strait.

Carl asked, “How long before it leaves the area covered by the imaging satellites?”

His deputy replied, “Two hours at the most.”

“What happens then?”

“It disappears.”

“And the Indonesians are still refusing to let us go after them?”

”Now the hijacking crisis is over, the Indonesians are saying it would be an unjustified violation of their territorial integrity if US forces were to enter their waters in order to apprehend suspects. They say they will use force to stop any incursion. By the way, an Indonesian Naval vessel is within visual range of the boat.”

“And they won't arrest the men themselves?”

“They say they don't arrest people in Indonesia without evidence. They say we need to produce evidence and go through the established legal procedures.”

Carl wanted to use some choice expletives to describe the Indonesians, but just said, “So the perpetrators are going to get away?”

His deputy said, “There is one possibility we should consider. I spoke to Captain Fordham earlier. He said the Singaporeans have a means of covertly tracking vessels. Apparently, the US is involved in the project. He said if I wanted to know more I should contact someone called Charles Corrigan.”

Carl responded, “I know Corrigan. We used him as the cover to get the two Special Forces guys, Jackson and Bao into the country. Get Corrigan on the phone.”

***

As Carl hung up the phone, he came to a decision on what to do next. He straightened his tie, picked up the laptop computer and left his office, heading for the crisis meeting. He would keep the focus on his new plan, and use it to blunt any criticism about the CIA's performance to date.

When Carl entered the conference room, the meeting was already underway. He ignored the look from the Ambassador for being a few minutes late, and took a seat.

Captain Fordham, the Naval Attaché, began speaking.

“The current situation is as follows. All the Seventh Fleet ships are now in international waters in the South China Sea, twenty five nautical miles from the outermost Riau Islands, and twelve nautical miles from the limit of Indonesian territorial waters. Indonesia has two coastal patrol boats just inside Indonesian territorial waters following the Fleet. A third patrol boat is positioned in the center of the Singapore Strait. Two larger, frigate sized, Indonesian vessels are on their way from southern Sumatra and should arrive shortly. Indonesian warplanes are making regular patrols along the edge of their airspace, and US Navy planes are shadowing them from international airspace, when they are in the vicinity of the Seventh Fleet.

“The Indonesians are threatening to sink any foreign naval vessel that enters their territorial waters and shoot down any foreign military aircraft that enters their airspace. They are denying that hot pursuit applies now the hijacking incident is over.

The Ambassador asked, “Captain Fordham, would you characterize the situation as a standoff?”

“It's a standoff in a diplomatic sense, rather than in a military sense. US Naval assets, both ships and planes, could enter Indonesian waters and airspace at any time, and any resistance from the Indonesian armed forces would just result in their ships being sunk and their planes shot down. Why a diplomatic standoff developed, I'll leave to the State Department's representative to address.”

“Thank you, Captain. We may need to come back to you. We'll hear from the State Department's representative, the First Secretary for Political Affairs, next.”

The First Secretary referred to his notes before speaking. “Our relationship with Indonesia is the most difficult in this region for a combination of reasons that I expect most of you are familiar with. Recently, with a new democratically elected government in Jakarta, relations have been improving.

“Indonesia, because of its history as a country created out of a European country's imperial possessions, is especially sensitive about any threats, including symbolic ones, to its territorial integrity.

”We had hoped that the seriousness of yesterday's terrorist hijackings would make the Indonesian Government cooperate in efforts to hunt down those responsible. In particular, we hoped they would be amenable to hot pursuit operations by the US military. Initially, we were given strong indications that our request to allow US military forces into Indonesian waters would be approved, with restrictions of course and that is why we made a formal request. Unfortunately, the influence of TNI, the Indonesian military, which takes a hard line on these issues, was greater than we anticipated and the Indonesian Government refused our request outright.

“In hindsight, the State Department's insistence that we formally request the Indonesian Government allow pursuit of persons suspected of involvement in the hijacking, may have been a mistake. As not only was the request flatly refused, it was accompanied by a great deal of rhetoric about national sovereignty that doesn't bode well for future relations. It also gave Indonesia time to mobilize its military assets.”

The Ambassador said, “So, First Secretary, you are now saying we should have gone ahead and snatched any of the hijackers we could find, without asking the Indonesian's permission and consequently warning them of our intentions?”

“You could phrase it that way, Ambassador.”

“Anything else?”

“Yes, the Singaporean Government has formally requested that we not conduct any military operations from their territory or territorial waters. Privately, they have assured us that the official statement is for consumption in Indonesia and Malaysia, and they are well aware we can now conduct our operations from international waters. They also assure us, they will give any non-military support they can, particularly intelligence.”

The Ambassador asked, “Do the Singaporean have any advice on how we should deal with the Indonesians?”

“Their advice is not to make any militarily provocative moves. They say the Indonesians are not bluffing and will respond if we use military assets to apprehend suspects. They note that Indonesia has a word for this kind of situation. They call it Konfrontasi, which literally means confrontation, but with the implication that force can and should be used in order to protect the interests and territorial integrity of the Indonesian state.

“The State Department strongly urges that we avoid any actions that might prompt a military response. Such actions would in all likelihood result in an extended period of military tensions, and could, for example, result in Indonesia trying to prevent our ships using the Malacca and Singapore Straits.”

The Ambassador asked, “If we can't use military assets to apprehend the suspects, does the State Department propose we just let them get away, potentially to do the same or worse sometime in the future? And not to mention the message, letting them get away, would send to others thinking of doing the same thing.”

“We are not advocating doing nothing. We are warning of the potential consequences of any overt use of military force.”

“So, the State Department is advocating covert operations?”

Without waiting for a response from the State Department representative, the Ambassador continued, “I think we need to hear whether the Central Intelligence Agency has any answers. It will make a change from hearing about problems, potential or otherwise. Perhaps they can also explain why they failed to apprehend the suicide bombers, when they had a team in the vicinity of the hijackings two hours prior and they knew where the suicide bombers were before they boarded the ship. I'd also be interested to hear why they didn't issue a terrorism alert.”

Carl had vigorously argued to the Assistant Director that as the head of the CIA's Clandestine Service in the region, he should not represent the CIA at this kind of forum, not least because his position was covert. The Assistant Director over-ruled his objections and ordered him to attend.

Carl said, “I don't intend to justify why we made the decisions we did in the lead up to the hijackings. Except to say, we had our priorities and decided it was more important to capture a senior Jemaah Islamiyah bomb maker, before attempting to stop the suicide bombers. I believed that was the right decision at the time and I still do.

“I'd also add in response to the Ambassador's question that we didn't issue a terrorism alert, because we believed it would have substantially increased the risk of a clash between our forces and either Indonesian or Malaysian forces deployed as a result of our issuing a terrorism alert.

“What we need to focus on now, is what can be done to apprehend those behind the hijackings, despite the military and diplomatic difficulties with the Indonesians.”

The Ambassador said, “Go ahead, we are all ears.”

Carl said, “We have been tracking a small boat that participated in the hijackings and we believe it may contain the mastermind behind the operation. Currently, the boat is traveling east along the coastline of the Riau islands opposite Singapore. The boat is in the vicinity of the Indonesian naval vessels referred to earlier. And any attempt to apprehend them at this point would certainly result in a direct confrontation with the Indonesian Navy.”

The Ambassador asked, “Why can't we provide the information to the Indonesian authorities and get them to arrest the individuals?”

The State Department representative interjected, “I think I can answer that question. The Indonesians may try to intercept the boat and arrest the individuals, but we doubt it. They are saying we need to present evidence of the men's involvement before they will act. This incident has seriously harmed their national pride. It has highlighted how weak their control over their territory is, and they would prefer a mysterious unknown, preferably foreign, group to be responsible. Already their media is saying that a Malaysian, Noordin Top, is behind the whole thing.”

The Ambassador asked, “Does the CIA have anything to add to that?”

Carl was surprised to find himself in agreement with the State Department's position, and responded, “No. Our view is substantially the same. In fact, we would go further. We think that telling the Indonesians where the suspects are, may result in the Indonesian military facilitating their escape.”

“What do we know about this supposed 'mastermind'?”

Carl replied, “We don't know much about him, apart from him being involved in smuggling. The radio intercepts show the name he uses is Malik, but that's a common name in Indonesia, and we doubt it's his real name. We suspect he is a smuggler with previous links to terrorist organizations, who saw an opportunity to make a substantial amount of money. We believe, he was in this for the money and not for ideological reasons, or at least ideological reasons weren't his primary motivation. If we fail to apprehend him, he may well disappear off the radar, never to be heard of again, or he may pop up in a couple of years time and try something similar, now he knows how easy coordinated ship hijackings are.”

The Ambassador said, “If we are going to apprehend the suspects somewhere the Indonesian military can't intervene then we going to have to keep tracking them. I understand the area in which we can track small boats is limited.”

Carl replied, “That's correct, Ambassador. In not much more than an hour's time, the boat containing the suspects will leave the coverage area. However, the Singaporean Navy has a means of covertly tracking the boat, once it leaves the coverage area of our satellites.”

“Will they use it and pass the information on to us?”

“I have yet to get a final confirmation, but I believe so.”

“Can you give us any details on that tracking capability?”

Carl replied, “All I can say is that it's a covert means of tracking boats and ships using an underwater device that doesn't rely on the presence of planes, satellites or ships. It's capable of operating for up to thirty hours. With the Singaporean's help, we intend to track the boat until it’s well clear of any Indonesian naval vessels, then apprehend the individuals on board.

The Assistant Ambassador said, “Why do we need to rely on the Singaporeans? We should use our own assets to do the tracking.”

“Carl responded, “And which asset to you suggest we use?”

“We could use an Unmanned Aerial Vehicle.”

“The Indonesians have threatened to shoot down any aircraft that violates their airspace. Eventually, the Indonesians, and in all likelihood by the suspects being tracked, will spot a UAV. I'm afraid, all a UAV will do is warn the suspects we are on their trail, and give the Indonesian Air force some badly needed target practice.”

The State Department representative added, “Giving the Indonesians the opportunity to shoot down a UAV will allow them a risk-free way of responding militarily, and will embolden them to attack a manned platform. We strongly advise against using a UAV in Indonesian airspace.”

The Ambassador said, “It seems to me that the Singaporeans have a better option than a UAV and we should use it. What about other suspects involved in the hijackings?”

Carl replied, “We have tracked a number of other individuals involved in the hijackings, but at this time we cannot apprehend them without a significant military incursion into Indonesian territory. We will continue monitoring their locations, and should the opportunity to apprehend them present itself in the future, we will do so.

The Ambassador said, “I expect you have a plan to capture this supposed mastermind. I'd like to hear it in outline.”

Carl turned on a projector attached to the notebook computer he had brought, then went to dim the room's lights.

The computer projected a map of the Singapore Strait and the Riau islands to the south on the screen behind Carl.

“The boat we are tracking is currently here, moving along the north coast of Batam Island. If it continues on this course, it will do one of two things. The boat will either cross the channel between Batam Island and Bintan Island then continue along the north coast of Bintan, or it will turn south into the channel between the two islands.

“If the boat continues along the north shore of Bintan, it will come within twenty five nautical miles of the Seventh Fleet. That will make it fairly easy to apprehend the boat's occupants using high-speed boats. However, we think it unlikely they will follow this route.”

The Ambassador asked, “Why is that?”

Carl replied, “That route doesn't take them anywhere except out into the South China Sea. It's possible their destination is one of the communities along the coast of Bintan, but the area is sparsely populated with poor communications to the rest of Indonesia. It's also relatively well policed, because the area is popular with Singaporean tourists. We think, for several reasons, they are more likely to take the route south into the channel between Batam Island and Bintan Island. We don't know what their destination is, but they may well be heading further south to somewhere along the Sumatran coast.”

“If they take the second route, where do we intend to apprehend them?”

“We evaluated several plans to apprehend the suspects. In summary, we concluded the distance through Indonesian waters is too great to use high-speed boats, and the risks of using helicopters to apprehend them at sea are too great. Chasing down a small boat at sea with a helicopter, with the objective of capturing the occupants alive, is fraught with difficulties, especially if the occupants of the boat are armed, as we are sure they are.

“We have concluded that the only feasible place to apprehend them is on land. We are hoping they will stop somewhere along the west coast of Bintan. If they do, they will be in range of helicopters from the Seventh Fleet, although our helicopters will have to fly across the island, which is an overland distance of between twenty and thirty five kilometers.

“Fortunately, we have an asset on Bintan, who we use occasionally, and we have instructed him to acquire a vehicle. When the terrorist's boat turns south into the channel, we will send him updates on its position, so he can keep pace with the boat on land. When we are ready to mount the operation, the asset will leave the vehicle in a suitable location for whoever goes in to apprehend the suspects.”

“And if they don't stop along the Bintan coast?”

“We continue tracking them and wait for another opportunity. Although, I should point out that the further south they go and the closer to the Sumatran mainland they get, the harder it will be to apprehend them, because they will get further away from the Seventh Fleet and further into Indonesian territorial waters.”

Carl continued, ”At their current speed, they will still be in the channel between the two islands at the end of today. It's likely they will stop for the night probably at some isolated location and that should present another opportunity to apprehend them.”

“And if they don't stop for the night?”

“If they continue traveling through the night, by tomorrow morning they will be too far away from the Seventh Fleet and too far into Indonesian territorial waters to execute this plan, and we will have to come up with a new plan.”

The Ambassador asked, “What about the Indonesian Navy and Air force?”

Carl replied, “The Navy is easy to deal with, we just route the helicopters well away from the Indonesian ships. The Air force presents some difficulties. We intend to use an unarmed civilian helicopter, which should attract less attention and a less immediate response.

“In addition, the Indonesians have serviceability problems with their military aircraft and we are already seeing a sharp reduction in the number of patrols they are flying in the vicinity of the Seventh Fleet. We intend to conduct the operation when no Indonesian military aircraft are in the air.”

“How long does it take them to get an aircraft up over the area?”

“We believe it takes them between thirty and forty minutes.”

“So if there is no Indonesian aircraft in the air, we have thirty minutes to get a helicopter in and out of Indonesian airspace.”

“That's about it, Mr. Ambassador.”

“Is that enough time?”

Carl replied with confidence, “It will be, as long as we don't encounter problems.”

Chapter 54

Chapter 52

2006-04-07T02:10:00.000-07:00

Indonesia, Medan, TNI Headquarters
November 13, 2006, 07:00 local time

As soon as he had heard about the hijackings Captain Habib had gone to the TNI Headquarters. He entered his private office and sat at his desk. He opened the file he had brought with him and stared at the photograph of the young man stapled to the first page. The image starred back at him.

Habib came into his office almost every day, if only for an hour or so. Not least, because it was a way of making sure, they did not take it away from him.

It had been four years since the Government had disbanded TNI's Counter Terrorism Unit. Habib still remembered the day they informed him the Indonesian Police would take over the unit's work.

Members of the unit would be assigned to other duties. However, Habib would be retained in a liaison capacity for the Sumatran provinces. Initially, he would supervise the transfer of the unit's workload to the police and subsequently act as the interface between the new police unit and TNI, the Indonesian military.

Habib knew the truth. He was too good at what he did. Too good at finding informers. Too good at extracting confessions and information from suspects. No one wanted someone as effective as him around. Too much of a threat. Too dangerous.

In a single day, they had ruined his promising career. The first thing he did was return to his office, and remove the files of his best informers. The ones whose existence he had been careful to keep secret even from the rest of the unit.

He took the files home and hid them until the transfer of responsibilities was complete. After the workload was transferred, there was no liaison between the police and the army and no liaison job for Habib. The police distrusted the military too much to ever feed significant intelligence to them. Similarly, the military despised the police and their mundane responsibilities of directing traffic and investigating petty crimes.

Protocol prevented them from firing Habib, but people expected him to save face by resigning.

Much to everyone's surprise Habib didn't resign. People assumed a man of Habib's intelligence and resourcefulness would easily find another career. When he kept on coming to his office every day, they assumed he was filling in time to get his pension, hoping for an early retirement.

They were wrong. Habib kept working.

His new situation had certain advantages. He no longer needed to account for his time or justify his activities, and he no longer had to report to superiors. His superior officer made it very clear that he wanted nothing to do with Habib. So, for the first time Habib was free to do what he thought was right for Indonesia.

Habib's father had been in the military. He had educated his young son on the special role of the military in Indonesia, and its responsibility for protecting and guiding the Indonesian state.

His father fought in the Konfrontasi, the military confrontation against the British and their creation of a rival Malay state of Malaysia. After three years of fighting, his father thought politicians had betrayed the military, even though President Suharto had been a TNI General.

His father had instilled into him, both a vision of a state encompassing all Malays, and a deep distrust of politicians and their actions.

Many in the military agreed with him, even though they had to be careful about what they said in the new 'democratic' Indonesia.

Some ex-military, now in positions of power in business, state-controlled monopolies and lucrative timber and palm oil franchises were more outspoken and more prepared to offer financial assistance. The money they provided allowed Habib to recruit his own staff. He had no problem finding willing recruits among those who had been forced out of the TNI's Counter Terrorism Unit.

Habib's attention returned to the file in front of him.

He had acquired this informer two years earlier. After a tip off from a sympathetic army officer in Aceh, who said the man was with GAM, but not Achenese. Maybe, Habib could find a use for him.

Habib had flown to Banda Aceh and picked the man up off the street and took him to the safe house provided by one of his benefactors in the city.

He left two of his men to work the prisoner over, while he went to confirm the man's identity with the army officer who had given him the intelligence. Being a TNI Captain still had its advantages.

Two hours later, he had confirmed the man's identity and started work on finding out all he could about him. It took him the rest of the day to find the information he needed. Now to turn the prisoner.

Beatings and torture could be effective in extracting information, but they were useless for turning a man into an informer. Different methods were required.

It took him several days to make the arrangements, but it was better this way. It gave the prisoner time to think about his situation.

Four days later, he picked up his two obviously terrified passengers from their home in a military-looking vehicle. The two were so afraid of what would happen to them that they didn't notice the vehicle wasn't an official TNI vehicle.

They had flown the prisoner in the day before, hooded and shackled, then given a good beating just to remind him of his status as a prisoner.

***

Malik's entire body was in severe pain from the continual beatings. Strangely, they hadn't asked him about his role in GAM, his unit, weapons, operations, or anything else he expected to be questioned about. They just beat him.

Then they had flown him somewhere. Malik had never been in a plane before and was oddly disappointedly he didn't get to see his native Sumatra from the air.

The door to his cell opened and a voice he had heard before said, “Remove his blindfold.”

Malik blinked in the unaccustomed light and saw a TNI officer in uniform and an older man, not in a regulation uniform.

“I understand you call yourself Malik these days. Is that correct?”

“That is my name.”

“Ah, but you used to have another name, the one your parents gave you, Abdul. Am I correct?”

Malik said nothing.

“And your father was called Harahap, unfortunately deceased. Am I right?”

Malik remained silent and lowered his gaze to the officer's chest.

“And your mother, what was her name? Do you recall?”

Malik stared resolutely at the TNI officer's chest.

“Let's see if someone can remind you.”

Habib said the man beside him, “Bring her in.”

The older man opened the door and another man pushed a late middle-age woman into the room. Malik tried to control his shock and disorientation at seeing his mother.

His mother started a low wailing keen. “My son, what have they done to you? What shall we do? We will all die. God protect us.”

Malik had never seen his mother so distressed, even after his father died. He felt a wave of guilt for having inflicted this experience on his mother.

The man continued, “So someone recognizes you. Would you like me to beat you in front of your mother? I can beat you until you scream in pain. Would you like your mother to see that?”

Malik said nothing, while his mother continued her wailing cries.

“Please sir, don't beat my son. He has done nothing wrong. He was always a good boy. Please sir, don't beat my son.”

“Perhaps beating you again is not the way. I am a reasonable man and I don't want much, just some cooperation. Malik, are you willing to give me some cooperation?”

Malik said nothing, despite the relief of not having to endure the beating he thought imminent a few seconds ago.

The officer waited for a response before continuing, “Maybe, I should beat your mother instead. Would that convince you to cooperate?”

Malik visibly jerked and his mother became silent.

Habib smiled to himself. All this was just the warm up to get the prisoner in the right frame of mind. Nothing so far would ensure ongoing cooperation, ensure Malik remained a loyal informer to him, and that was what he needed.

“No, I don't think beating your mother is the answer to my problem. Although, I might do it anyway if you don't start talking right now.”

The older man picked up a heavy truncheon and whacked it into his hand as if to test how well it worked.

Malik said, “What do you want to know?”

The TNI officer looked directly at him. “I don't want to know anything. I've told you already. I want your cooperation.”

Malik said nothing, unsure what they wanted from him.

“That means you work for me and only for me. When I say, go here and do this. You go there and do it, then tell me exactly what happened and who was involved. Are you willing to do that, Malik?”

Malik said, “Yes, I am.”

“No, you are not. I know what you are thinking. You think if you agree now to what I ask, then later when you are out of here, you can forget about whatever you agreed to in here. That's not good enough. I need to ensure you will keep your word.”

“I will.”

“You still don't understand. I need to be sure you will continue to cooperate when I’m not standing here with a truncheon ready to beat you or your mother. I need somebody else for that. Bring her in.”

Malik had an icy feeling as they dragged his fifteen year old sister into the room, clearly terrified. He desperately wanted to reach out to her, despite his shackles.

“Maybe I will beat your little sister.”

Habib paused, to let the idea sink in, then continued, “But that wouldn't work either. A beating is just a beating when it’s over. She might lose some of her pretty looks, but that still wouldn't ensure your cooperation. No, I need to do something else.”

Malik looked the TNI officer directly in the eye and said, “I will do anything you want of me.”

Habib responded, “Still not enough. I need to be sure you do.”

He turned to the two other men and said, “Go ahead.”

One of the men ripped his sister's shirt off, exposing her bra and bare torso, while the other man started to undo his pants.

His mother screamed, and then began a semi-coherent wailing, “My daughter, my child, my baby, please no, sir, I beg you.”

The officer looked directly at Malik. “Let me explain to you what happens next. My two men rape your sister. They like this part of their job and they will oblige me by doing it a second time. Your sister will probably survive the experience, although you will have a hard time finding her a husband.”

The TNI officer paused, then said, “Or you cooperate with me.”

“I'll cooperate. I beg you. Please sir.”

“If at any time, I even suspect you are not cooperating with me or not telling me everything, I won't send two men to rape your sister. I will send ten men to rape her, as many times as they like. Do you know what happens to a young girl who is raped repeatedly by ten men?”

Malik didn't hear the rest, because he started vomiting. He could see his sister shaking and sobbing uncontrollably, and his mother prostrate on the floor praying.

Malik knew he was broken and so did Habib.

Habib's attention returned to the present and the man whose face stared back at him from the file.

He said to himself, “You were a good informer. You betrayed everyone to me. I helped you in your smuggling business. I even protected you from competitors who resented you moving into their territory. I chose you when I discovered the identity of the Malaysian's agent. I steered the agent toward you, so you would lead me to the Malaysian. Now I find you are doing business with him behind my back and have helped him in a terrorist attack with telling me. You will regret double crossing me, Mas Malik.”

Habib put the file inside a brown envelope and left his office. As usual, no one spoke to him, or even acknowledged his presence, on his way out of the building.

He drove to the villa on the outskirts of Medan that served as the headquarters for his unofficial anti-terrorist organization. Even at this early hour, a small group of ex-TNI men sat in the shaded courtyard, smoking and playing cards. These men were used to dealing out summary justice against the enemies of the Indonesian state.

Habib walked up to the table, threw Malik's file on the table and said, “Go pick up his mother and sister.”

“What should we do with them, boss?”

“Anything you like.”

Chapter 53

Chapter 51

2006-04-07T02:07:00.000-07:00

Indonesia, the Riau Archipelago, Opposite Singapore
November 13, 2006 07:00 local time

There should have been three of them in the boat, but immediately after the operation, Ajmal had declared he was getting married. He said his bride's family had agreed to hide him until things blew over. Malik and Saiful had taken Ajmal to Bengkalis Island, which had delayed them by several hours.

Only Saiful accompanied Malik to the island with the hidden cove, and would then travel south with him in a few weeks time. Saiful had decided to make his fortune in Jakarta. He was still young and Malik had refrained from disillusioning him.

As the sun rose, Malik kept an anxious watch for any indication the authorities were searching for them. He could see a patrol boat in the distance, but judging by its position, it was Malaysian. There was no sign of any Indonesian police or military vessels. As far as Malik could tell, no one suspected they were anything other than a small boat on a fishing trip or making a journey for some other legitimate reason.

Saiful said, “That's our island up ahead.”

Malik looked around as they passed the other small islands. All had the forbidding sheer rock sides and looked like no one had ever visited them. Their refuge for the next few weeks looked no different to the dozens of similar islands that surrounded it.

The boat went behind the rock and entered the narrow passage that led to the hidden cove. Up until that point, Malik had been expecting pursuers at any moment. Now they had reached the island he could relax. They would hide here, until things died down and the authorities called off the search for them.

As the boat left the narrow passage and entered the placid waters of the cove, Malik stared in shocked silence at the devastation on the beach. Everything had been flattened. Charred pieces of debris were scattered everywhere.

Saiful said, “What happened?”

Malik voiced his immediate reaction. “The bomb maker must have had an accident with the explosives we left behind.”

They beached the boat and the pair searched through the devastation. All their supplies were gone or damaged beyond salvaging. Without supplies, there was no possibility of hiding on the island.

Malik searched for the bomb maker's body. All he found were some pieces of charred and bloodstained clothing. The force of the blast must have disintegrated his body into unrecognizable pieces.

The two went back to the boat and Saiful asked, “What do we do now?”

Malik stopped to think. Looking down at the beach, he saw imprints in the sand from what looked like boots. The imprints were quite different to the impressions left by the rubber sandals his people and the Malaysian's men wore. In several places, he could see the boot imprints were on top of the imprints made by the rubber sandals. Others had been here since Saiful left with the Malaysian's men last night.

Perhaps, the boot prints were from people sent to investigate the blast, or the bomb maker had been captured and didn't die in an accidental explosion, or perhaps he had blown himself up to avoid capture.

Malik had no answers, except they needed to get away from the island as soon as possible.

Malik replied to Saiful’s question with, “We can't stay here. We will go to Jakarta now, rather than in a month's time.

Saiful nodded his head in agreement.

“How much fuel do we have?”

“Maybe enough to go fifty kilometers.”

That wouldn't even get them to Batam town. Not that Malik wanted to go there. It would be full of police and military. They needed to quickly get somewhere they knew people, who would hide them. That either meant going back to the island where they had lived for the last few months, or going to Jakarta now.

Malik said, “Where are the fuel drums we left here?”

It didn't take them long to find the badly damaged remains of the two drums. The fuel in both had clearly burned.

Saiful said, “I left a plastic container with some fuel in it, at the end of the beach. I'll see if I can find it.”

Shortly afterwards, Saiful called to him, “I see it floating in the water.”

Saiful waded into the water then swam toward the container, which was floating up against the rocks on one side of the cove. Malik could see by how high it floated in the water that it couldn't be more than half-full.

Saiful swam back to the beach pulling the container along.

Back on the beach, Saiful shook it and Malik heard the sound of liquid sloshing around inside.

Saiful said, “Let's hope it isn't contaminated with seawater.”

Saiful unscrewed the cap and looked inside.

“It looks OK. I'd say, there is about twelve or thirteen liters in there. That should take us another fifty kilometers, further if we go slowly. With the fuel we have left, we should be able to go a hundred kilometer. Will that be far enough?”

Malik would have to consult the map on his GPS to see how far the fuel would take them. It wouldn't be enough to get them to the Sumatran mainland, at least using the route he had planned. They could take another route and head for somewhere closer, but one thing he had learned over the last few months was the importance of having a plan and sticking to it. They would keep to their original route and buy more fuel along the way.

***

Dr. Kunderan felt exhausted by the stresses of the night. Now the hijacking crisis was over, all he wanted was to go home to his family and to bed. The home that a couple of hours ago he thought would be destroyed. He would avoid telling his wife the truth of what happened tonight at all costs.

Now another crisis of a different type had erupted.

An aide to the Prime Minister had informed him that the hijackers had substantial help in boarding and taking control of the LNG carrier and a separate team of hijackers had boarded and sunk the VLCC. The American's wanted to go into Indonesian waters in pursuit of suspects. They had yet to hear Indonesia's response, but Dr. Kunderan doubted it would be accommodating.

The aide had summoned him to a crisis meeting at the Prime Minister's office and he would have to leave shortly. He hadn't been told what the meeting was about, but he expected it would cover how the country should deal with the aftermath of the hijackings, especially, the shock of losing eighteen of the country's elite troops. The news had yet to sink in, but he expected even the normally compliant Singaporean man in the street would demand justice if not revenge for the deaths, and Indonesia would be blamed.

First, he needed to speak to Charles.

Charles was still at the Institute. When Dr. Kunderan joined him, he was reading the early morning edition of the Straits Times. It had devoted its entire news section to the night's events. The banner headline read, Ships Hijacked in Strait; Eighteen Singaporean Soldiers Dead.

Charles asked, “Anand, do you think the Americans or the Singaporeans know where the hijackers are?”

“I can almost guarantee the hijackers never left Indonesian waters and are now hiding out at one or more locations on the many islands along the Indonesian side of the Strait. Now I known the Americans have the capacity to track to small boats, I am sure they will know at least the general area most if not all of the hijackers are hiding.”

“What will happen?”

Dr. Kunderan sighed and then responded, “You would think after a crisis like this, which could easily have resulted in a catastrophe, countries would come together and do whatever is necessary. Unfortunately, things don't work like that in this part of the world. The attitude of our neighbors is very much, everything is a zero sum game, and if another country loses, you win. I expect your people will be optimistic that Indonesia will cooperate in efforts to capture those responsible. I very much doubt that will be the case and foresee a new crisis resulting from Indonesia's response.”

“So you think the Indonesian's might allow the hijackers to get away?”

“That's my fear, what concerns me is how the USA and Singapore will react when they realize that is going to happen. Charles, I need you to do something for me.”

“What is it, Anand?”

“I'm just about to call Dr. Goh to tell him to go out to the lab and prepare one, and if possible two, of the Under Water Surveillance Devices for immediate deployment. What I'd like you to do is inform the US Embassy that they are available and we are willing to share the data they provide with the Americans. I don't have the authority to do this myself, but I am on my way to a meeting at the Prime Minister's office and will vigorously argue we should do whatever we can to help the Americans track down and capture everyone involved in the hijackings.”

***

The small boat hugged the coastline of Batam Island as it headed east through the Singapore Strait. They would soon turn south into the island-studded channel between Batam Island and Bintan, the largest of the Riau islands. It would take them most of the day to travel down the long channel between the two islands. They would then have to cross more than a hundred kilometers of open ocean to reach the coast of Sumatra, a journey of two hundred and fifty kilometers. There were several places along the Bintan coastline they could stop and buy more fuel. Malik had yet to decide which.

Malik could see that shipping had been stopped in both directions in the Singapore Strait. Even though he had only lived along the Strait for a few months, it seemed strange to see it without a constant procession of ships.

On the far side of the main shipping channel, he could see the Singapore shoreline crowded with high-rise buildings. He wondered how people could live in such a densely populated city.

Further along the Strait, Malik could see the stationary LNG carrier in the distance. There were two helicopters in the air above it. He could also see military jets patrolling high in the sky. None came in their direction.

Aircraft worried him much less than an Indonesian patrol boat, but the only one in sight was close to the middle of the Strait, at least ten kilometers away. Besides, there was enough small boat traffic along the Batam shore that a random check would be unlikely to pick their small nondescript wooden boat, indistinguishable from a thousand others that frequented these waters.

Malik looked down at the AK47 propped up against the side of the boat. He had debated dropping it in the ocean ever since they had completed their role in the operation. Something made him keep it, a feeling he might need it before their journey was over.

Malik turned toward Saiful, at the helm. He saw the happy, always relaxed man he knew so well. The earth-shaking events they had just engineered seemed not to impinge on his consciousness. Not for the first time, Malik wondered if Saiful was a little simple.

Toward the middle of the day, they ate day-old cooked rice with meat from a can Saiful had found undamaged on the beach. Saiful talked about what he would do in Jakarta with the money they had made. He asked Malik's advice on the advantages and disadvantages of different small businesses. Malik said little, knowing they would not be safe until they reached Jakarta and were with people who would hide them, then introduce them into the anonymous routines of the sprawling city.

Chapter 52

Chapter 50

2006-04-07T02:00:00.000-07:00

Singapore, Central Business District, South East Asian Institute of Strategic Threats
November 13, 2006, 03:50 local time

Dr. Kunderan saw a large explosion in the center of the LNG carrier. Within seconds, the ship disappeared in an unbelievably rapidly expanding white cloud. Initially, the white cloud spread upward and outward forming a roughly vertical, elongated sphere. The sphere then began to collapse downward and a fast moving white wall spread across the ocean. The cloud formed a thick white circular layer many hundreds of meters across, centered on the now invisible ship. Blue flames flickered across its surface and around its edges.

His worst fear had come true. There had been an explosive release of the pressurized liquid gas. One particularly dire scenario forced its way into Dr. Kunderan's thoughts. He could visualize the scientist who described the scenario to him and recall his words almost verbatim.

'A sudden complete depressurization of the containment vessel creates a rapidly expanding cloud that initially is mostly aerosolized liquid natural gas. As the cloud expands, the liquid starts to boil off and become gas and at the same time mixes with air. The cloud reaches the right gas, aerosolized liquid and air mixture, then explosively ignites.'

'The blast wave destroys everything within one to two kilometers. It completely destroys the ship, resulting in an even larger and far more rapid release of aerosolized gas from the other three gas containment vessels on the ship. The second cloud of aerosolized gas expands to a five hundred to one thousand meter radius before it too explosively ignites, causing the largest non-nuclear explosion ever, with a blast radius of five to eight kilometers.'

A blast of that size would destroy or seriously damage every building along five or more kilometers of the Singaporean shoreline and back as far as two kilometers. Several hundred thousand dead. The worst man-made disaster in history.

Dr. Kunderan shuddered at the thought, because his family's apartment was in a prime position on the shoreline directly overlooking the Roads. He had chosen it precisely because it gave such panoramic views over the waterway, and he could watch the shipping traffic at any time.

He silently prayed to Vishnu, the Preserver of Worlds, to save his family.

The speed at which the white gas cloud expanded across the ocean shocked Charles. His work in weapons research meant he had seen many weapons demonstrated both live and on video. What he saw was strongly reminiscent of a super slow motion video he had seen of a fuel-air weapon deploying. He knew the similarity to the slow motion video was because he was seeing something on a vastly greater scale. In the video, the weapon descends by parachute then bursts open expelling many small containers. Each container sprays an explosive aerosol, which forms a circular layer above the ground. The weapon then ignites the aerosol and a shock wave spreads through and then beyond the aerosol layer, demolishing everything in its path.

Charles watched for signs of a similar shock wave spreading through the gas cloud signifying its explosive ignition.

Charles sensed the tension in Dr. Kunderan and saw his lips moving as if he were praying in silence.

He said, “Anand, what's going to happen?”

Dr. Kunderan seemed to come out of his private thoughts and replied, “I have talked to dozens of scientists, engineers and other experts, and I think a fair assessment of their views, is no one really knows. What happens next is in the hands of the Gods.”

Charles saw that the circular cloud had stopped expanding outwards. When the cloud first formed its edges were sharply defined, but had now started to become blurred. He knew this was because the aerosol was transitioning to a gas and starting to dissipate. The intensity of the blue flames on the surface increased, but a huge explosion no longer seemed imminent.

***

As the white cloud burnt away leaving clear air behind, Jackson saw the black-clad soldiers lying in unnatural positions along the deck. He started for the door. Anil once again grabbed his arm, and said, “You can't go outside.”

Jackson replied, “The gas has cleared and I might be able to help those men.”

“The burning gas has left behind almost no oxygen in the air. What is out there is toxic levels of carbon dioxide and probably carbon monoxide as well. If you go outside you will be unconscious before you take your second breath and dead seconds later. If the natural gas didn’t suffocate those men, the carbon dioxide and monoxide will have poisoned them. They are already dead.”

Jackson turned away from the door and said to Anil, “You saved Joe's life today and my life more than once, perhaps three times.”

“Three times?”

“Yes, if I hadn't seen your reaction to the advice I was given to go forward on the ship once the shelling started, I might well have followed that advice and be lying dead out there on the deck, like those poor men outside.”

Anil responded, as if talking to himself, “I took a life today. Saving two other lives will help balance my dharma.”

As a pair of Singaporean helicopters settled on either side of the main deck, the rapidly shrinking remnants of the white cloud in the middle of the ship continued to burn around the edges.

Jackson asked Anil, “Is it safe to go outside?”

“It might be, but if you feel faint or short of breath, come back into the bridge immediately. No, wait.”

Anil picked up one of the oxygen bottles and gave it to Jackson.

“Use this.”

Jackson almost unconsciously took a deep breath before opening the door and stepping out onto the deck. The bodies of five of the Singaporean Special Forces lay along the railing. He could see two more down on the main deck.

Black-clad men jumped from the helicopter, followed by medics with red cross armbands. The Singaporean Special Forces must have had time to transmit that they were suffocating in the gas cloud.

Jackson waved them in his direction. The first black-clad man up the stairs to the bridge was visibly panting when he arrived. He struggled for breath and just managed to get out, “Who are you?”

“Sergeant Jackson, United States Army. If you are feeling short of breath, you should breathe some of this oxygen.”

The man ignored the oxygen bottle offered by Jackson and continued panting, then said, “What are the threats, Sergeant?”

“There might be one more suicide bomber loose on the ship, but I don't think so.”

The man looked down at his dead companions on the deck and asked, “What happened?”

“They suffocated in the gas cloud. We only just managed to save ourselves. There was nothing we could do to save them. I'm truly sorry.”

Jackson didn't know what else to say and turned away, leaving the Singaporeans to grieve over their lost comrades.

Chapter 51

Chapter 49

2006-04-07T01:58:00.000-07:00

The Singapore Strait, Singaporean Territorial Waters, On Board the Liquefied Natural Gas Carrier, Hanjin Sun
November 13, 2006, 03:35 local time

Joe came on the radio. “Sarge, I'm back at the top of the stairs. No sign of any more hijackers. I told the crew to go into the bridge and make sure no one enters. We need to call in reinforcements.”

“I know. One of the terrorists from the bridge is dead. The other is probably dead. I'm going back to confirm.”

“Then I better tell the crew you are coming. They have the hijacker's weapons and are pretty wound up. I don't want them shooting you by mistake.”

“Understood, and thanks, Joe.”

Jackson went cautiously up the stairs, he had ascended five minutes earlier, to the bridge deck. He wanted to make sure he gave Joe enough time to tell the crew he was coming.

When he reached the deck level, several of crew were waiting for him. They waved him forward and all of them wanted to shake his hand.

Jackson said, “Take me to the Captain.”

Someone said, “Follow me.”

When he entered the bridge, cheers and applause went up from the assembled crew, who immediately mobbed him. Jackson pushed his way through the crowd, shaking the hands that grabbed his, and went over to the hijacker lying on the floor. Joe was already standing over him.

“He's dead, Sarge.”

The Captain lowered his radio and addressed Jackson. “I'll thank you properly later. I have stopped the ship and informed the Singaporean authorities what has happened. They say we are all to stay in the bridge until military forces arrive, which will be shortly.

Jackson asked Joe, “Any sign of the other hijackers?”

“No, nothing.”

Jackson turned to the Captain and said, “We believe there are one or two more hijackers with bomb vests on board the ship, but we don't know where they are. You should assign crewmembers to guard all entrances to the bridge. The Corporal here will keep watch on the main deck.”

He then said to Joe, “Corporal, I need to go back out on deck, to your previous position where you can keep the main deck and the stairway up to the bridge level under observation. Remain vigilant for the other hijackers. I'll contact our people to update them what has happened, then I need to go find Anil. He is down on the next deck.”

Joe asked, “What happened with him?”

“I'll tell you when this is over. Now get back to you position, Corporal.”

“I'm on my way, Sergeant.”

Jackson went back out of the door to the bridge and onto the deck. He could hear the sound of approaching helicopters. He looked up and saw the helicopters approaching from the direction of Singapore. They were still too far away to see if they had the Singapore Armed Services insignia on their side, but Jackson assumed they did.

He switched on his radio and said, “Jackson here.”

The response was immediate. “What happened, Sergeant?”

“We took out four of the hijackers. The bridge is now under our control. The Captain has stopped the ship and Singaporean forces are on their way. One or possibly two of the hijackers are still unaccounted for, and presumably still loose on the ship. Repeat, location of one or two hijackers is unknown. The Singaporean forces on their way need to be warned.”

“I'll pass that information on to them.”

While he was talking, Jackson had been walking slowly down the deck in the direction of Anil. He reached the top of the stairs and could see Anil, still standing over the body of the dead hijacker.

Jackson descended the stairs and said to Anil, “We need to go up to the bridge. Singaporean troops will be here shortly.”

***

Joe watched the Blackhawk helicopters sweep out of the semi-darkness and into the bright lights illuminating the deck. Two hovered on either side of the deck and men began fast roping down onto the ship's deck. Joe knew he was watching a well-practiced drill.

A man led a team of eight black-clad men toward the stairs up to the bridge. All had weapons at the ready. The second team went the other way down the ship's deck.

Joe raised his arm to signify he was a friendly.

The lead man ran up the stairs toward him, and when he reached his position, said, “Captain Wee, Singapore Armed Forces, are you US Army Sergeant, Jackson?”

“No. I'm Corporal Bao. Sergeant Jackson is to the right of the bridge taking care of a crewman.”

The Singaporean officer signaled to his men, who fanned out along the deck, either side of the bridge.

“What are the immediate threats, Corporal?”

“We have killed five of the hijackers. We think one or two hijackers are still loose on the ship. We don't know their location. We believe there are explosives attached to the liquefied gas containment equipment somewhere in the middle of the ship. The crewman with Sergeant Jackson can give you a more precise location.”

Captain Wee began speaking into his radio without acknowledging Joe's answer.

Another of the black-clad men said to Joe, “I need to take your weapon.”

Joe handed him the rifle, then took out his pistol and gave it to the Singaporean soldier.

A couple of minutes later, a weaponless Jackson and a subdued Anil, accompanied by one of the black-clad Singaporeans, joined Joe.

Joe said, “Why do I feel like we are under arrest?”

Jackson responded, “They are just being professional. We've done our job. It's up to them now.”

Jackson added, “You did good today, Corporal.”

“Thanks, Sarge. From you that means a lot.”

Joe continued, “I got a clear head shot at the first terrorist. When he went down, the other terrorist didn't really react, like he was drugged or something. He didn't even turn around to see where the shot came from, before I shot him in the upper back. When I went down to the deck, both were dead.

There was a flurry of activity as the black-clad men took up positions along the rail of the deck. Jackson heard the Singaporean Captain shout, “Everyone down on the deck. We have located another of the hijackers.

All three of them dropped to the deck as a volley of gunfire rang out, followed immediately by a massive explosion in the center of the ship. Jackson saw a huge white cloud immediately form and then expand upwards and outwards, unbelievably rapidly. The cloud flickered blue at the edges.

Anil shouted, “Take a deep breath and run to the bridge.”

As Jackson got to his feet, the white cloud enveloped them. It was shockingly cold.

The door to the bridge had been less than five meters away, but had now disappeared in the white cloud. Jackson could see ice crystals drift downward directly in front of his face. Otherwise, everything was uniformly white.

Someone grabbed his arm and pulled him forward. Jackson felt an increasingly urgent need to breath and wished he had taken a deeper breath.

The hand continued pulling him through the freezing white cloud and he found himself in front of the door to the bridge. He saw the door open. An arm came out, grabbed him and pulled him inside. He entered the bridge in a cloud of white.

As Jackson exhaled, someone thrust an oxygen bottle, with a plastic mask attached, in his face and he inhaled deeply. He was about to take his third breath, when the bridge door opened and Anil staggered in, pulling Joe behind him. Anil collapsed on the floor and the crewman who had given Jackson the oxygen bottle pulled it away from him and put it over Anil's face. Someone else brought a second oxygen bottle and gave it to Joe who was kneeling on the deck coughing violently.

Joe and Anil quickly revived.

Anil said to Jackson, “The natural gas is mostly methane and any toxic components have been removed. It's not poisonous, but at high enough concentrations you will suffocate.”

Jackson looked through the frost tinged windows of the bridge at the uniform whiteness. A few minutes later, he thought he could see blue flames flickering through the white cloud.

“The gas is burning.”

Anil responded, “Yes, the gas cloud will burn around the edges where there is sufficient oxygen to sustain combustion. Here inside the gas cloud there is not enough oxygen for combustion. If there were, the gas cloud would explode.”

Chapter 50

Chapter 48

2006-04-07T01:25:00.000-07:00

The Singapore Strait, Singaporean Territorial Waters, On Board the Liquefied Natural Gas Carrier, Hanjin Sun
November 13, 2006, 03:10 local time

Jackson again checked there was no one on the brightly lit deck, before waving Joe and Anil forward.

Jackson said quietly to Anil, “Remember, stay at the bottom of the stairway and guard our rear.”

Anil nodded.

Jackson went quickly up the narrow stairway, with Joe following close behind. He stopped where he could see down the bridge deck. The deck was twenty five meters long and clear of people. He went up onto the deck and waved Joe forward.

Joe ran past him, then dropped to the deck before he reached the first of the bridge's windows. He crawled down the deck, while Jackson held his rifle up to his shoulder, ready for anyone who exited the bridge.

It took Joe, a little more than a minute to crawl to the end of the deck, pistol in hand. He turned the corner and disappeared from view.

Jackson could see the US Navy vessel behind and to the side of the LNG carrier, less than two kilometers away, its forward gun still trained on them. Further back, he could see a ship surrounded by a huge fire. Flames were shooting higher than the ship and a thick column of black smoke extended upward.

Below him, at the bottom of the stairs, Anil stood, gripping the pistol in both hands.

Jackson heard Joe speaking in a whisper over the radio, “I have a clear view down on the main deck. I can see both terrorists. About to sight one with my M16.”

He checked his watch. Ten minutes of the fifteen minute deadline before the Navy attacked the ship had already gone.

Jackson moved down the deck, hugging the side of the ship, until he was just short of the windows that surrounded the bridge.

This was the riskiest part of the operation. He had to look into the bridge to establish where the occupants were. There was no point in hesitating. He turned and stepped forward to look in through the window.

The bright lights above the deck reflected off the glass and all he could see inside were dark shapes. He couldn't differentiate the hijackers from the crew. He pulled his head back, hoping no one had seen him. Jackson felt his heart pounding. His plan was starting to come apart.

“Corporal, we have a problem. I can't see into the bridge from here, too much glare. Are the deck lights shining on the bridge's windows where you are?”

“I'm down below the level of the windows, but they seem to be in shadow. I can see the ceiling inside the bridge.”

“Then, I'm coming around to your position.”

“Sarge, you want me to cover you?”

“No, stay in position and ready to take down the hijackers on the main deck.”

Jackson checked his watch, almost thirteen minutes. He wouldn't have time before the Navy opened fire.

Jackson dropped to the deck and started crawling as fast as he could toward the front of the bridge. If anyone came out onto the deck now, he was dead.

Jackson reached the corner of the deck and looked around. He could see Joe lying prone, his rifle trained down toward the main deck.

“I see you, Corporal.”

“I hear you, Sarge.”

Joe was right. The windows at the front of the bridge were partially shaded from the deck lights. From his current position, he would just need to raise his body until he could see into the bridge. He glanced at his watch. The fifteen minutes were up.

Jackson positioned himself below the windows, ready to look into the bridge. He heard the dull boom of a naval gun firing and simultaneously the sound of a large explosion at the rear of the ship. He felt the vibration through the steel deck. There was no point in further stealth.

Jackson said into his radio, “Corporal, we do it now. Fire at will.”

Jackson took a step back and stood up with his rifle at the high ready position, as he heard the crack of Joe's rifle firing. He looked down his rifle's sight. The man, he knew from the close circuit television was the ship's Captain, stared back at him.

To the right of the Captain, another man was looking back, in the direction of the explosion at the rear of the ship. He was wearing a bomb vest. Jackson shot him, high up in the middle of his back. The bullet left a neat hole in the glass of the bridge's window and a much larger hole in the man's back.

He looked to the left of the Captain and saw a second man, wearing a bomb vest and carrying an AK47, run out through the door onto the bridge deck on the far side of the ship. Jackson started running along the deck after him. He was conscious of Joe having fired a second shot at the same time as another explosion at the rear of the ship. So far, there were no explosions down on the main deck.

Jackson heard Joe say, “Both terrorists on the main deck are down and not moving. I'm going to confirm they are dead.”

It looked like the crew were safe for the moment.

He reached the corner of the deck in time to see the man disappearing down the stairs, too late to get a shot. Jackson kept running, recalling the deck layout from the other side of the ship. If it was the same on this side, he should have time for a clear shot from the top of the stairs before the man could enter a doorway into the ship. He hoped so, because hunting a suicide bomber down inside the ship would be fraught with risk.

The man was quicker than he anticipated. Jackson reached the top of the stairs in time to see the man's back disappearing into the first doorway along the deck. The doorway was opposite the one they had exited on the far side of the ship.

Running with a rifle in the high ready position against the shoulder was difficult enough on a level surface. Running down stairs, it was a good way to fall and break something. Jackson lowered the rifle, to descend the stairs.

He reached the door, just as Joe came on the radio. “Both men are dead. The crew is mobbing me. What should I do, Sarge?”

Jackson had to stop in order to answer Joe. “Go back up the stairs to the bridge deck and keep watch for any more of the terrorists.”

“On my way, Sergeant.”

Another explosion reverberated through the ship as Jackson stopped to look around the open doorway into the ship's interior. He saw the hijacker was almost at the door leading out onto the deck on the far side of the ship.

Jackson stepped through the doorway and at the same time brought his rifle up. He sighted the back of the man just as he ran through the doorway and turned to the right, in the direction of Anil guarding their rear on the stairway.

Jackson fired a shot to both alert Anil and distract the terrorist who was now out of sight of him on the far deck. He stepped over the high sill that all the doors on the ship had, just as he heard the sound of a pistol firing.

Jackson heard two more shots, as he began running toward the door on the far side of the ship. When he got closer to the door, he could see the hijacker lying on the deck, bleeding from a wound in his shoulder and another in his neck. The man was clearly alive. Urgent medical attention might save his life.

Jackson slowed down and saw Anil walk up to the terrorist, the pistol in his right hand.

Jackson shouted, “Keep back. He may detonate the bomb vest.”

Anil stood over the terrorist and looked toward Jackson.

“He's the man who killed my friend.”

“I know.”

Anil looked back down, raised the pistol and shot the hijacker in the head. He turned to look at Jackson.

“Thank you, sir. Now I can tell his widow and children that the murderer of her husband and their father is dead.”

Anil held his arm up, offering the pistol to Jackson.

Jackson stepped forward and took it.

Chapter 49

Chapter 47

2006-04-07T01:23:00.000-07:00

Singapore, Changi Naval Base
Nov 13, 2006, 02:50 local time

Admiral Collins stood on the bridge of the USS Blue Ridge, the Seventh Fleet's Command Ship, and reviewed the stream of communications from the US Embassy in Singapore and directly from the Pentagon in Washington.

They urged him to do things that he had great difficulty reconciling. The Embassy wanted him to ensure The Navy did nothing on Singaporean territory or in Singaporean waters that Singapore hadn't previously agreed to. The Pentagon ordered him to take whatever measures were necessary to ensure the safety of the Fleet and the US servicemen on board.

The latest communication from the Embassy relayed Singapore's demand that the US Navy not fire on the LNG Carrier, because of the risks of a fire or explosion on board. They must have been receiving similar advice about the risk of the cargo of liquefied gas explosively igniting.

The Admiral said, “Get me Captain Fordham at the Embassy.”

A few seconds later one his subordinates passed him a handset.

“Captain Fordham?”

“Yes, Admiral.”

“We are convinced the destroyer's five inch gun targeted against the Hanjin Sun's propulsion and steering mechanism is our best option for disabling the ship. We are also convinced this poses no risk of damaging the gas containment vessels. I want you to persuade Singapore's Armed Forces and its Government that this is the best option for stopping the LNG carrier. Although, you should know that I have already issued the orders and intend to confirm them whether the Singaporeans agree or not. It's just better if they do agree.”

“I understand, Admiral.”

Admiral Collins turned to his First Officer and said, “Tell Captains Jakob and Smith of the Lassen and Fitzgerald, their orders are amended as follows. If naval gunfire fails to stop or disable the Hanjin Sun, their ships are to return to the Naval Base and blockade the entrance.

The Admiral returned to his primary problem, getting the Fleet's aircraft carrier, the USS Kitty Hawk, ready for sea. The Kitty Hawk's Captain was adamant they couldn't leave for another hour. The ship's fuel system had been undergoing maintenance when he gave the order to deploy to sea. The Kitty Hawk was the Navy's oldest ship and its thirty year old fuel system, a constant source of problems. Without fuel to feed the boilers that powered the ship's turbines, the Kitty Hawk wasn't going anywhere under its own steam.

When the Admiral had been informed there were no tugs available, he considered using the Blue Ridge to tow the Kitty Hawk out of the Naval Base. However, he reluctantly conceded that even if they could tow the aircraft carrier out of the harbor, they couldn't outrun the LNG carrier, with the aircraft carrier under tow.

Admiral Collins was faced with deciding whether to separate the Blue Ridge and Kitty Hawk. The Blue Ridge was ready to leave port, and could get to safety in time. Staying with the Kitty Hawk risked trapping it in the harbor along with the aircraft carrier.

The Admiral gave the order for the two supply ships to leave port and head for the South China Sea. The Fleet's only Frigate would provide an escort. The Blue Ridge would stay with the Kitty Hawk.

Admiral Collins heard the Captain Jakob of the USS Lassen say, “The Hanjin Sun is now three kilometers from our red line. Preparing to open fire.”

Admiral Collins watched an image of the LNG carrier from a UAV overhead. It showed what looked like the Hanjin Sun's crew on the ship's deck just forward of the infrastructure at the rear of the ship. One of the crew was pointing up at the UAV. The image from the UAV returned to the stern of the ship.

***

Captain Jakob had been told that the US Forces on board the LNG carrier had been ordered to evacuate the ship. He had seen the black-clad men descend into an inflatable, which was now well clear of the ship.

The images transmitted by the UAV showed the deck at the stern of the ship was clear of people.

He checked the LNG carrier's position. Less than a kilometer from the red line. The Singaporean assault he been expecting, hadn't materialized. Four helicopters had been hovering over the ocean for the last ten minutes, but had made no move to assault the ship. He had no idea what was delaying them.

Captain Jakob gave the order for the five-inch gun to open fire.

***

The Admiral returned to watching the image from the UAV circling over the rear of the LNG carrier. He watched the first shell from the USS Lassen's five-inch gun impact the ship's stern just below the waterline. Five seconds later the second shell impacted at almost the same point. After the third shell hit, he could see no discernible effect on the LNG carrier. The shells might be causing some damage to the propellers and rudder, but it wasn't having any effect on the progress of the ship.

“How far is the Hanjin Sun from the Naval Base?

“Less than four kilometers, Admiral.”

Admiral Collins knew they had run out of time. The LNG carrier would reach the entrance to the Naval Base before the USS Kitty Hawk and the USS Blue Ridge could exit into the Strait. He began to consider the unthinkable that the LNG carrier would enter the Naval Base with the Seventh Fleet's capital ships still inside. The LNG carrier was larger than the Kitty Hawk, the biggest ship in the fleet, and had been designed to sustain major impacts without damaging its integrity. Inside the Naval Base, without room to maneuver, his ships would be sitting ducks. And, if the experts were right, firing on the LNG carrier would risk a catastrophic explosion that would wipe out the entire fleet.

With a heavy heart, the Admiral ordered the two destroyers to return to the Naval Base and take up positions blocking the entrance. Both Captains would know that using their ships to physically block the LNG carrier's entry into the Naval Base would be a suicide mission for one of the destroyers. If the massive LNG carrier struck amidships, it would likely break the ship in two and kill most of their crew.

Chapter 48

Chapter 46

2006-04-07T01:21:00.000-07:00

Singapore, Central Business District, South East Asian Institute of Strategic Threats
November 13, 2006, 02:45 local time

His plan had worked, but not well enough to prevent one of the tankers being holed and its contents spilling out and catching fire. Without the tugs, several of those tankers would now be ablaze.

Dr. Kunderan now saw how his plan could have been better and the LNG carrier's collision with the tanker avoided. The tugs needed to react more quickly, and start pushing the oncoming ship sooner. They also needed to move the tankers out of the way of the oncoming ship. If there was ever a next time, they would do better.

Charles asked, “Will the fire spread to the other ships?”

“That's the next task for the tugs. Now the LNG carrier is past the tankers in the Roads, they can concentrate on getting the other tankers clear of the burning ship and its spilled cargo.”

Dr. Kunderan watched the tugs start to implement the second part of his plan. The tugs were working together to move the tankers closest to the burning ship. The ship's liquid cargo was still spilling from the gash in its side and feeding the spreading fire. An area of the ocean, at least two hundred meters across, was now burning. He saw one tug go right through the flames to reach a ship the fire was about to engulf. Judging by the speed at which the liquid was spreading across the surface of the ocean, and the color of the flames, the holed tanker held gasoline.

Dr. Kunderan thought it could have been much worse. Had the LNG carrier rammed two or three more ships, holing them and setting their cargoes ablaze, it might well have caused an unstoppable spreading chain reaction, with one tanker after another catching fire and releasing their cargo into the firestorm.

The LNG carrier was now several kilometers past the Roads, and unless it turned around and came back, it looked like the tugs had the situation under control.

He shifted his attention back to the LNG carrier. Even though it was now more than ten kilometers away from him, he could see it clearly through the high-powered binoculars. The ship was too far away to make out any details of what was happening on board. In the far distance, he could see two US naval vessels leaving the Changi Naval Base.

Charles mobile phone rang and he answered.

“This is Captain Fordham. Charles, I'm passing this information on to you, because we have officially informed the Singaporean government. They have until the LNG carrier reaches a point five kilometers from the Changi Naval Base to stop the ship. After that, we will use the Seventh Fleet's naval assets against the ship.”

Charles asked, “Are there US military personnel on board the LNG carrier?”

“Yes there are, but they have been ordered to evacuate the ship immediately. However, you should know that we have technical difficulties in communicating with two of the personnel on board and it's not clear if they are evacuating the ship.”

“Is one of those people, Delisle Jackson?”

“Yes it is. The other person is Corporal Bao.”

“Do you think they got off the ship?”

“No, we don't believe so.”

“Thank you for telling me that. What is going to happen?”

“All I can tell you is that the US Navy will use all necessary means to prevent the LNG carrier reaching the entrance to Changi Naval Base. I have to go now, Charles.”

Charles thought that 'all necessary means' sounded ominously like the Navy were prepared to seriously damage the gas carrier and risk a large release of gas in order to stop the ship”

Charles turned to Dr. Kunderan. “Anand, that was Captain Fordham. He told me that if Singapore doesn't stop the LNG carrier before it gets to the Changi Naval Base, the US Navy will. He also told me that Delisle Jackson and Joseph Bao are on the LNG carrier.”

Dr. Kunderan's voice registered surprise. “You mean your body guard and driver?”

“That was just a cover for them. I know Delisle well. We have worked closely together in the past and I consider him a friend. He wouldn't to tell me why he was here, but I suspected he was involved in some kind covert operation. It seems that operation was directed against the hijackers.”

In the distance, Dr. Kunderan could just make out a number of helicopters approaching the LNG Carrier. He raised his binoculars to get a closer look, then said to Charles, “It looks like the Singaporean Armed Forces are about to stage an assault on the ship.”

As Dr. Kunderan and Charles watched the helicopters, they stopped a couple of kilometers from the LNG carrier and hovered in the air. Dr. Kunderan wondered what they were waiting for.

Chapter 47

Chapter 45

2006-04-07T01:18:00.000-07:00

The Singapore Strait, Singaporean Territorial Waters, On Board the Liquefied Natural Gas Carrier, Hanjin Sun
November 13, 2006, 02:40 local time

Jackson knew Carl's outburst resulted from his fear of losing control over an operation he was responsible for, but Jackson didn't have time to explain what had happened. He replied, “The SEAL's radios don't work down inside the ship. The hijackers have killed a crewman and I need to know what's happening.”

Carl said, “The Admiral has issued orders that when the LNG carrier you are on, the Hanjin Sun, crosses a red line, five kilometers from the Changi Naval Base, US Navy destroyers will use all possible means to stop the ship. It's presently six kilometers, fifteen minutes at its current speed, from that red line.”

Jackson asked, “How do they plan to stop the ship?”

Carl replied, “They haven't reached a final decision. I have someone listening in to their video conference and they seem to be leaning towards using naval gunfire to damage the ship's steering and propulsion mechanisms. If they do, we advise you to move as far forward on the vessel as possible. I have also been told to inform you that if any of the gas containment vessels are punctured, you should get off the ship immediately, by whatever means.”

Jackson heard coughing and then the SEAL Lieutenant's voice on his radio, “I have a man with burns and we are all suffering from smoke inhalation. We need to evacuate the ship immediately. I've already called in the inflatable.”

Another voice cut in and said, “Is it safe to evacuate, Lieutenant?”

“The boarding ladder is still in place and clear of the fire on the other side of the ship. I want my men off the ship before those destroyers open fire.”

With the inflatable evacuating the SEALs, Jackson needed to know what they were doing to evacuate Joe and him.

“How do we get off the ship?”

Carl responded, “Our advice is to use one of the ship's life rafts.”

“What about the crew?”

“There is nothing we can do for the crew at this stage. Sergeant, I repeat, you have less than fifteen minutes to evacuate the ship.”

Jackson saw the long sleek shape of a US warship go past at high speed and then begin to turn in behind the LNG carrier. Its forward gun turret swung around to aim directly at them.

Without the SEALs to take out the hijackers on the deck, Jackson had to decide whether to leave the ship and abandon the crew to its fate, or try to do something with just Corporal Bao for support.

He could see four Blackhawk helicopters hovering several kilometers away. He assumed they were Singaporean. He hoped they knew friendly forces were on board the LNG carrier.

“I can see a number of helicopters approaching. Are the Singaporeans planning an assault?”

“Yes they are, although we don't have details on the timing.”

Jackson said, “If they attempt an assault they will likely trigger a massacre of the crew. The hijackers have murdered one crewmember already, and I do not intend to abandon the rest to the same fate.

“Sergeant Jackson, standby for new orders.”

Jackson went back through the doorway and toward the stairway, where he would be out of radio contact.

“Corporal, I'm coming back to your position.”

“I hear you, Sarge.”

Jackson reached the head of the stairs and saw Joe was covering the stairway with his pistol. Anil stood beside him.

Jackson said to Joe. “There's been a change of plan. We won't be getting any help from the SEALs. They are leaving the ship. So, we will have to take out the terrorists down on the main deck as well.”

“Anil, have you ever handled a firearm?”

“Yes, I have. There is military conscription in my country.”

“Then you are coming with us.”

It was against procedures, but Jackson handed his pistol to Anil and showed him how to operate the safety.

Jackson said, “You will stay at the bottom of the stairs that lead up to the bridge deck and protect our rear. If you see any of the hijackers, who will be wearing the same vests as the men you have seen on the closed circuit television, open fire on him immediately. It is important you do not give him any warning you are about to shoot. The vests the hijackers are wearing are packed with explosives.”

Anil responded, “I will kill him, without warning.”

Jackson found the man's quiet precision, reassuring, yet at the same time vaguely disturbing.

Jackson said, “We have less than fifteen minutes to do this. Let's go.”

Joe asked, “What happens when the fifteen minutes are up?”

“US warships will open fire on the ship.”

Anil said, “If the gas containment vessels are breached, inside the rear of the ship is the safest place.”

Jackson responded, “That's where they will be firing the shells. We have been told to go down the deck to the front of the ship.”

Anil shook his head and said quietly, “That's foolish advice.”

Chapter 46

Chapter 44

2006-04-07T01:13:00.000-07:00

Singapore, Central Business District, South East Asian Institute of Strategic Threats
November 13, 2006, 02:15 local time

Dr. Kunderan found a second pair of high-powered binoculars for Charles to use. Both men sat in front of the large window in Dr. Kunderan's office that overlooked the Strait. They watched in silence, the Hanjin Sun's progress up the narrow Philip Channel between the Singapore Islands to the north and the islands of the Riau Archipelago to the south.

As the LNG carrier approached the oil refinery on Bukom Island, Dr. Kunderan found he was tightly clenching his binoculars. A LNG carrier plowing into the storage tanks on the island was a scenario that no one had seriously considered. All it would take was a couple of turns of the ship's wheel and three minutes later, the huge ship would hit the seawall around the island. Even at the relatively slow speed of twelve knots, its kinetic energy would drive the ship far enough onshore to strike several of the storage tanks, releasing hundred of thousands of gallons of refined products. It would certainly collapse the front of the LNG carrier and release millions of cubic meters of natural gas. No one had any experience of what would result from such a combination.

The LNG carrier remained in the eastbound shipping channel, as it came level with the oil refinery. Dr. Kunderan felt himself relax slightly, when it became clear the LNG carrier would continue on past the Bukom Island refinery.

The LNG Carrier was about to leave the narrow Philip channel and enter the relatively open waters in front of the city of Singapore. Dr. Kunderan watched the LNG carrier begin to turn onto a more northerly heading that would take it past the main container port and business district and directly toward the tankers in the Singapore Roads. The tankers were six kilometers ahead, less than twenty minutes away at the LNG carrier's current speed.

Dr. Kunderan said to Charles, “The LNG carrier is turning north, out of Indonesian waters and into Singaporean waters. At least now, we can take action to stop it without risking a confrontation with Indonesia.”

Charles had kept silent, because as a guest at the Institute, he didn't want to distract Dr. Kunderan from his responsibilities in the crisis. However, Dr. Kunderan's phone hadn't rung or anyone entered his office for the last twenty minutes. He sensed that now events were unfolding largely as Dr. Kunderan had predicted they would, his role was substantially over.

Charles asked, “What actions do you think the Singaporean authorities will take?”

“I expect a military assault on the LNG carrier, but I don't know if there is time before it reaches the tankers in the Roads.”

Dr. Kunderan focused his binoculars back on the Roads and saw the tugs deploying to protect the tankers. They were following his plan. The six tugs formed a line more-or-less north-south in front of the tankers. The tugs were about two hundred meters apart, facing away from the tankers and toward the oncoming LNG carrier.

He periodically turned his binoculars on the Hanjin Sun as it drew closer. It was heading directly toward the middle of the Roads and if not stopped could collide with four or five of the tankers just by continuing on its current course.

The Hanjin Sun was now only two kilometers away from the line of tugs, and in response, they started to maneuver. The two tugs at the northern end of the line headed directly toward the LPG carrier. When the tugs were a hundred meters away, they turned into the side of the huge ship, close to its bow. In quick succession, both struck the side of the huge ship and stuck there, as if suddenly attached.

Even at the distance Dr. Kunderan was watching from, he could see the white foam surging out from behind both tugs indicating their engines were at full throttle. He could see that the huge ship was slowly turning, and rather than following its previous straight-line course into the middle of the tankers, it was now on a southward curving course.

Dr. Kunderan tried to visualize the LNG carrier's path as the two tugs continued to push the ship. He could see its wake now curved noticeably. Although, it still looked like the LNG carrier would go through the southern end of the Roads and hit one or more of the tankers. Another tug joined the effort to push the ship away.

The LNG carrier was now just two hundred meters from the nearest tanker and the effort of the tugs hadn't been enough. It was going to hit the southernmost of the tankers.

Dr. Kunderan watched the three tugs veer away from the LNG carrier just before it collided with the tanker. The LNG carrier struck two thirds of the way down the tanker's length. The impact of the massive ship visibly pushed the much smaller tanker downward and to the side.

The tanker's side burst into flames and then burned fiercely. The tanker's burning contents flowed out of the gash in its side and the flames spread across the surface of the ocean. At this distance, the ships looked like toys, but Dr. Kunderan knew the collision would have ripped a huge hole in the tanker, but would have done little more than dent the bow of the double-hulled LNG carrier.

Chapter 45

Chapter 43

2006-04-07T00:24:00.000-07:00

Singapore, Changi Naval Base
Nov 13, 2006, 02:30 local time

The two guided missile destroyers slowly made their way out of the Changi Naval Base into the Singapore Strait. The main shipping channel was just four kilometers away to the south. The normally busy waters of the Singapore Strait were almost empty of boats and ships. Two Singapore Navy Patrol boats were close to the maritime border with Indonesia, just beyond the main westbound shipping channel.

Captain Jakob could see a large fire burning in the Singapore Roads ten kilometers west of them. The Hanjin Sun's bulk loomed in the distance, illuminated by the fire just behind it, and by the many lights on surrounding ships, as well as on buildings and facilities not far away along the shoreline.

The only other vessels in sight were in Indonesian waters well to the south of them. The radar confirmed there were no other vessels in their vicinity. Captain Jakob ordered their speed increased to ten knots.

The mission of the USS Fitzgerald and the USS Lassen was to act as blocking force, protecting the Seventh Fleet's capital and supply ships from any threats approaching from the west, while they exited Changi Naval Base into the Singapore Strait. When those ships were in the Strait they would head east at maximum speed toward the open waters of the South China Sea. It would take them just two hours to reach international waters.

Captain Jakob inspected the Hanjin Sun through a pair of high-powered binoculars. The LNG carrier's mass would be fifty to a hundred times greater than his destroyer's. In a collision between ships, the one with the greater mass had the most kinetic energy, and the other ship would sustain the most damage. The worst-case scenario was if the LNG carrier hit his destroyer amidships. It would likely break his ship in half, and hardly slow the progress of the massive gas carrier. He had to avoid a collision at all costs.

Whoever had chosen to use the Liquefied Natural Gas Carrier as a weapon had made a good choice. Captain Jakob had no idea how he was going to stop it.

He ordered the launch of an unmanned aerial vehicle to take a closer look at the ship up ahead. Perhaps a close up aerial view would provide some useful piece of information.

Captain Jakob used the break in the video conference, to deal with an issue brought to him by two of his officers. As he listened to them describe the problem, his eyes were drawn to the view through the bridge's forward windows. The LNG carrier was now only five kilometers away, only five minutes at the two ships combined speed. His destroyer was almost in the blast range of an LNG explosion if the last expert they heard from was right.

The video conference restarted, and the man on the screen identified himself as an Air Force officer. He started to describe the effect of a MOAB fuel air explosion.

“It sends out an overpressure wave that is most intense at ground level and just above. It will flatten most structures up to three hundred meters away and kill people through blast out to the same distance.”

The Admiral asked, “What effect would it have on a ship?”

“I'm really not qualified to answer that question definitively, but in general terms, the overpressure wave is over a wider area and has a longer duration than that from a conventional high explosive. I'd say if the ship was within two hundred and fifty meters of the blast, it would suffer some structural damage and anyone out on deck would be at risk of death or serious injury. The ship should provide substantial protection to the people inside.”

“Could it sink the ship?”

“I can't say. If the ship were close enough, the blast could capsize it.”

“One final question. What would be the effect of a MOAB a hundred times larger than the one the Air Force has built?”

“You must be referring to the hijacked Liquefied Natural Gas Carrier. You need to remember that a MOAB is engineered to produce the right mixture of air and aerosol to explosively ignite. I think it highly unlikely that puncturing a vessel filled with liquefied natural gas would produce a cloud of any size with the right mixture of liquid, gas and air. The containment vessel would need to be partially destroyed, resulting in a very rapid release of a large quantity of liquefied gas, to have any chance of producing a sufficiently large aerosol cloud to result in an explosion as large or larger than a MOAB. Even then, I think it unlikely the right mixture would be achieved.”

The Air Force Officer continued, “But to answer your question, an explosion a hundred times larger than a MOAB, would increase the diameter of the blast by a factor of ten, perhaps more. So, rather than causing deaths and structural damage up to three hundred meters away, it would produce the same effects up to three or more kilometers away. Of course, the destructive effects closer to the blast would be much more severe.”

Captain Jakob heard the Admiral conferring with his officers, then announce, “We have concluded that we must avoid holing the liquefied gas containment vessels at all costs. We now have to determine the best way to disable the vessel, without risking a release of gas. Captain's Jakob and Smith, do you have anything to say at this point.”

Captain Jakob responded, “My ship is just two kilometers from the LNG carrier. Time is very short and we must decide how to stop it immediately.”

The Admiral said, “We are aware of that, Captain Jakob. We also need to be aware that Singaporean Special Forces will shortly attempt a helicopter borne assault on the Hanjin Sun. In addition, there are US Army and Navy Special Forces already on board. We hope and pray some combination of those forces is able to take control of the ship. However, we have to prepare for the possibility that they don't and we have to use Seventh Fleet assets to stop it, in a way that doesn't result in a potentially catastrophic release of its cargo.

“We concluded during the break in the video conference that the only means of stopping the ship is to disable its propulsion and steering mechanisms. These are below the waterline at the ship's stern, well away from the liquefied gas containment vessels in the center and forward areas of the ship."

The destroyers were now almost level with the oncoming LNG carrier. Captain Jakob gave orders for his destroyer to turn and come in behind the LNG carrier and shadow it from fifteen hundred meters away. The Fitzgerald began to perform the same maneuver on the other side of the LNG carrier.

Captain Jakob tried to at least partially focus on the discussion about means to disable the LNG carrier's propulsion system, as his ship turned and came in behind the huge ship.

“Captain, the UAV is over the ship. I have the feed here on this screen.”

Jakob looked over at the screen, his officer was pointing at. All it showed was a white painted deck and part of the curved surface of one of the containment vessels.

“Tell me if it finds anything interesting.”

When Captain Jakob returned his attention to the video conference, the Admiral was summarizing their conclusions on how to disable the LNG carrier's propulsion system.

“Aircraft are out of the question, for the simple reason bombs fall downward and we need to hit the underside of the ship. Cruise missiles can't be used against moving targets. Once a torpedo is launched, we don't have enough control over it, to guarantee it doesn't strike the ship in the region of the liquefied gas containment vessels. Our helicopters don't have a weapon with sufficient destructive force to cause enough damage to the ship's propulsion system, which leaves naval gunfire as our only weapon with sufficient accuracy and destructive force. Does anyone dissent from this assessment?”

No one dissented.

Captain Jakob was acutely aware they would use the Lassen's five-inch gun, not because it was the best means of damaging the ship's propeller, but because they had no alternative means. He was far from confident the shells would penetrate far enough underwater to do sufficient damage.

One person on the bridge looked almost pleased. His Gunnery Officer would get to fire the destroyer's main gun against a moving ship at sea. Most people in his position never fired on another ship in an entire career spent at sea.

The Gunnery Officer said, “Permission to leave the bridge, Captain.”

“Permission granted.”

Chapter 44

Chapter 42

2006-04-07T00:13:00.000-07:00

The Singapore Strait, Singaporean Territorial Waters, On Board the Liquefied Natural Gas Carrier, Hanjin Sun
November 13, 2006, 02:15 local time

After Jackson had outlined his plan to Joe, he turned toward the screens. Anil was still watching the closed circuit image of the bridge and saying quietly, “They killed him. My friend is dead. He was from the same village as me. He treated me like a son.”

“Anil, I need you to show us the way to the bridge. Can you do that?”

Anil stopped talking to himself and turned to face Jackson.

“Will you avenge my friend's death?”

Jackson knew this wasn't the time to explain their priorities, and just answered, “Yes, we will.”

“Then, I will show you the way.”

Jackson said, “Before we go, I have one question for you. The windows around the bridge, is the glass bulletproof or armored?”

“The glass is thick and very strong, but to my knowledge it's not bulletproof. You must understand, how the ship is constructed is not my area of expertise, and I could well be wrong.

Anil led them through the maze of stairs and passageways in the ship's interior.

Anil said, “At the top of these stairs, you go left and it leads out to the deck, one level below the bridge. When you get out on deck, you turn right and almost immediately, there is a stairway going up to the bridge deck. It's about ten meters along the bridge deck to where you can see into the bridge.”

Jackson led the way up the stairway. Joe followed close behind with Anil. Joe was much closer than the normal separation for this kind of operation, but Jackson needed Anil nearby to ask him directions.

Jackson stopped at the top of the stairway and looked both ways. The large open area in front of him was empty of people. He signaled to Joe and Anil to join him.

Jackson said to Anil, “When we reach the deck, I want you to stay inside the ship. Once outside we may be spotted and need to move fast.”

“Sir, I want to come with you.”

The man's steady conviction compelled Jackson to ask, “Why?”

Anil answered clearly and matter of factly, “I want to see the man who killed my friend, die.”

“I'm sorry Anil, but you have to stay inside the ship. You coming with us, not only compromises your safety, it compromises our safety as well.”

“I understand.”

Jackson felt the steady motion of the ship disturbed, as it seemed to change direction slightly.

“Anil, what was that?”

“I'm not sure, but it felt like a tug pushing the ship.”

Jackson said, "Corporal, we proceed to the door out onto the deck. I go first you follow after I have checked the deck is clear.”

"I'm ready, Sergeant."

He turned left along the side of the open area that stretched from one side of the ship to the other. As he turned the corner, he felt another disturbance to the motion of the ship. Jackson had almost reached the doorway out onto the deck, when the ship's forward momentum, abruptly stalling throwing him to the floor. He could hear the screeching sound of torn metal even in his current location, inside the ship.

Jackson got his feet and went back to find the other two. Looking down the stairway, he saw Anil was still standing, holding onto the handrail. Joe was lying halfway down the stairs.

“You OK, Corporal?”

“I think so, Sarge. Just took me by surprise, is all.”

Jackson said to Anil, “What the hell was that?”

“The ship collided with something. We are still moving, so I think it was another ship.”

Jackson said, “Joe, I need to go out on deck and find out what's happening. Stay here until I return.”

Joe for the first time looked worried. “You sure, Sarge? I don't think we should separate.”

“Jackson replied, “I'm sure, Corporal.”

Jackson ran back to the doorway that led out onto the deck. He pulled the heavy door open and quickly looked both ways down the deck. There was no one in sight. To his left he could see flames and black smoke billowing up from the side of the ship.

He stepped out onto the brightly lit deck and tried his radio.

“This is Sergeant Jackson, can you hear me?”

Carl replied immediately, “Where the hell have you been, Sergeant?”

Chapter 43

Chapter 41

2006-04-07T00:11:00.000-07:00

Singapore, Changi Naval Base
Nov 13, 2006, 01:30 local time

Admiral Collins informed Captain Jakob of the USS Lassen and Captain Smith of the USS Fitzgerald, they had an hour to get their ships ready to leave port.

Captain Jakob responded, “I'm sorry sir, that's impossible.”

“Captain Jakob, I don't want to hear 'impossible'. I want to hear 'Yes, Admiral'. If your ship and the Fitzgerald are not out in the Strait in just over an hour, and in a position to stop the hijacked LNG carrier, it will reach the entrance to the Naval Base and bottled up the Seventh Fleet's ships in the harbor. And who knows what will happen then.”

“Yes, Admiral.”

The USS Lassen became a frenzy of activity, as they compressed tasks that took far longer down to the hour the crew had to make the ship ready. Their worst problem was that almost a third of the crew were on shore. When they did leave exactly on the hour, fifty of the crew and several officers were still not on board.

In the middle of their frantic preparations, the Admiral informed Captain Jakob, he was required to participate in a video conference that was about to start. It would include experts who could tell them exactly what threat the LNG carrier and its cargo represented and possible ways to deal with it.

Captain Jakob knew there was no point in telling the Admiral that he was already overwhelmed by the many decisions that still needed to be made, in order to have the ship ready for sea. He would just have to divide his attention between dealing with the issues and the video conference.

The video conference started and the first supposed expert took five minutes to tell them that explosive ignition of liquefied natural was almost impossible. He was immediately followed by another expert, who described incidents where liquefied natural gas explosions had flattened extensive facilities.

Captain Jakob managed to direct enough of his attention to the screen on the bridge to follow the substance of what was said. He had ordered several of his officers, who had capable subordinates, to join him and they stood beside him watching the screen.

A bearded man had just started speaking and was providing a highly technical explanation of something called a deflagration-to-detonation transition. Captain Jakob saw his Gunnery Officer nodding his head indicating he understood what the man on the screen in front of them was saying. He hoped the Gunnery Officer did, because he didn't. Captain Jakob devoted more of his attention to the screen.

The expert said, “An aerosol of liquefied natural gas had similar properties to commercial or military explosives. A large cloud of aerosolized liquid natural gas, mixed with air and natural gas in a gaseous state behaves in a similar manner to a thermobaric or fuel air weapon, such as the Massive Ordinance Air Blast weapon.”

Captain Jakob understood that part of what he said. He glanced at the officers beside him and saw their shocked silence at the revelation the LNG carrier could produce a blast as big as a twenty thousand pound bomb.

Admiral Collins asked, “You mean the LNG carrier could produce an explosion comparable a MOAB?”

The expert replied, “Based on the amount of gas in a single containment vessel. It could be a hundred to two hundred times larger.”

The Captain felt the palpable shock of his officers that they could dealing with something hundreds of times more destructive than the largest conventional bomb in the US arsenal, something with the destructive potential of a nuclear weapon.

The expert went on to say. “No one has ever run controlled experiments in which large aerosolized clouds of methane and other components of natural gas are created by explosive events and then ignited. The crucial variable is the ratio of gas to air in the cloud. Too little gas and it won't ignite. Too much gas and the worst that will happen is it burns off at the fringes of the cloud. We call these variables the upper and lower explosive limits.

The Admiral interjected, “We have just heard that it's not possible for a large cloud of natural gas to explosively ignite.”

“I'd agree with that statement in reference to methane and other hydrocarbons like Butane and Propane in a gaseous state. You would have to contain the gas somehow, in order to get an explosion. Otherwise, the gas dissipates too quickly. However, we are not dealing with gaseous methane. We are dealing with an aerosol at minus one hundred and sixty degrees centigrade, which behaves very differently to a gas.

“Methane as a gas is lighter than air and will quickly dissipate upwards. In contrast, in a cold aerosolized state methane is denser than air. It will spread along the surface and dissipate relatively slowly. Exactly how the aerosolized cloud behaves depends on a number of variables, particular the size of the explosion that creates it and the ambient air temperature. Unfortunately, the relationship with the air temperature isn't simple. There are two competing effects at work. The first is, the warmer the air, the faster the aerosol will transition to a gaseous state and hence dissipate. The other effect is that the warmer the air is, especially if it's humid, the less dense it is and the greater the relative density of the aerosol. This will result in the aerosolized cloud spreading further at ground level and make it more likely a gas-air ratio within the explosive limits results.”

Admiral Collins cut him off, before he could descend further into another highly technical explanation. “Thank you, we have heard enough for our purposes.”

The Admiral announced there would be a ten minute break in the video conference, then asked Captain Jakob and Captain Smith if their ships were ready to leave port.

Captain Jakob glanced up at the clock on the bridge. Less than ten minutes of his hour were left.

“Admiral, I'll have to get back to you on that.”

“Make sure you do, in five minutes or less.”

Captain Jakob told his officers to immediately report their status. As he listened to their status reports, he didn't hear anything that would absolutely prevent them leaving. The many problems could be fixed once they were underway, or they could live with them for a few days.

Two minutes before the end of the hour deadline, he told the Admiral, “The USS Lassen is ready to leave port, sir”

“Well done, Captain. You will have to wait another couple of minutes for the Fitzgerald. Leave the dock and be prepared to lead the Fitzgerald out of the Naval Base.

“Admiral, how long before the rest of Fleet will be ready to leave?”

“We have several critical problems we need to deal with before the USS Kitty Hawk can leave. It looks like at least another hour.”

“Admiral, I still need to know how I can stop or delay the LNG Carrier, without risking a catastrophic explosion.”

“We will obtain more information on how we can stop the LNG carrier, when the video conference restarts shortly.”

Captain Jakob was deeply worried man. In less than thirty minutes he would be required to stop the LNG carrier and he had no idea how, or even how he could delay it long enough for the capital and supply ships to leave the Naval Base.

The USS Lassen slowly left the dock and maneuvered under its own power toward the exit from the Naval Base. The ship moved forward at minimum speed, waiting for the USS Fitzgerald to join it.

Chapter 42

Chapter 40

2006-04-07T00:00:00.000-07:00

Singapore, Central Business District, South East Asian Institute of Strategic Threats
November 13, 2006, 01:45 local time

Dr. Kunderan picked up his phone on the second ring.

“Dr. Kunderan?”

“Speaking.”

“This is the Prime Minister's private secretary. The Prime Minister wishes to speak to you.”

After a short delay, he heard Prime Minister Leung's voice. “Dr. Kunderan, I have just been informed by the United States Embassy that they believe there are seven suicide bombers on board the Hanjin Sun.”

Dr. Kunderan was not as surprised by the American information as he might have been. As soon as he knew this was a coordinated hijacking, he was virtually certain Islamic terrorists were behind it. Coordinated acts of Islamic terrorism invariably involved suicide operatives. He was an expert on terrorism and would be hard pressed to name one that didn't involve suicide operatives.

He asked the Prime Minister, “Did the Americans indicate how they obtained this information?”

“No, they didn't, but it was accompanied by a request for our forces not launch an assault, without coordinating with them as they have personnel in the area of the LNG carrier.

“Dr. Kunderan, the reason I called is I need to know what significance we should attribute to the fact we have yet to receive any demands or other communication from the hijackers of the Hanjin Sun. Have you drawn any conclusions, even tentative ones, about the hijacker's objectives? I'm going to be busy for the next few minutes, so that will give you time to digest the new information and think about your answer.”

The Prime Minister's secretary came on the line. “Please hold, the Prime Minister will be with you shortly.”

The involvement of suicide bombers strongly suggested Jemaah Islamiyah or Al-Qaeda was behind this, or even, some kind of joint operation between them. Coordinated hijackings were an Al-Qaeda trademark, but Jemaah Islamiyah would have the resources in the region. He considered his reply, knowing the Prime Minister's liking for succinct, well thought out answers.

“Dr. Kunderan, I'm ready to hear your answer.”

“Prime Minister, I think the reason we have not received any demands is because the hijacking of the LNG carrier is not the terrorist's objective. It is merely the means to an end and the suicide bombers prove that end will be violent and destructive. We haven't received any demands because they are not interested in negotiation. They are only interested in reaching and destroying their target.”

Prime Minister Leung responded, “That's what I had concluded, but I wanted your confirmation. What about their objective?”

“As of now, I have no specific indications of what their objective is. I can only repeat the vulnerabilities I identified to you in a recent briefing.”

Prime Minister Leung responded, “I recall the briefing, but summarize those vulnerabilities for me, and give me your assessment of their relative likelihood, given what you currently know about this incident.”

“I divided the vulnerabilities into three areas, but a single incident could potentially result in attacks on more than one of the vulnerabilities.

“The first area of vulnerability is the shipping channel itself. The LNG carrier could be used to block the westbound channel. They have already, at least partially, blocked the eastbound channel. However, if that were their sole objective, they would have sunk the Hanjin Sun as soon as possible and in the vicinity of the hijacked VLCC. In addition, why hijack a LNG carrier to do this, and why use suicide operatives? An LNG carrier is a difficult target, with a hijack warning system and I believe armed guards on board, when they could use any large ship to block the shipping channel.

“I'm certain the Hanjin Sun was hijacked specifically for the risk it's liquefied gas cargo poses. They may intend to stop the LNG carrier in the shipping channel and defy us to launch an attack, knowing there is little we could do to stop them massacring the crew, then sinking it in the shipping channel anyway. That approach would keep them at the top of the news for days. Given the somewhat incestuous relationship between the media and terrorism, and the media's tendency to sympathize with the terrorist's aims in these long drawn out situations that might be their objective, but I think that scenario is unlikely.

“The second area of vulnerability is infrastructure and other economic assets, particularly refineries, chemical plants and other ships. The main advantage of attacking these assets is the incident looks good on television, especially if a large fire is involved. In reality, the economic impact while significant in dollar terms is small in comparison to the cost of blocking the shipping channels. An attack on a refinery, for example, would cost in the range of ten of millions of dollars rather than the billions of dollars blocking the shipping channel would cost.

“For that reason, I tend to think an attack on an economic target is unlikely, although, I wouldn't discount it entirely. It's possible, they might attack an economic target as a distraction before attacking their real target. They have already made the attack on the supertanker as a distraction to draw forces away from the LNG carrier, and a second similar attack would be consistent. I am thinking in particular of those tankers in the Roads. Holing and setting one or more ablaze could well delay any attempt to retake the LNG carrier long enough for them to reach whatever is their eventual target.

“Mr. Prime Minister, we should implement the contingency plan, I presented to you, to use tugs with troops on board to prevent the tankers with highly flammable cargoes being rammed.”

Prime Minister Leung said, “I'll authorize it immediately.”

“The third area of vulnerability is what I collectively termed in my presentation, political objectives. The exact nature of those objectives depends on the country being targeted. In the case of Singapore, an objective would be to get us to release the JI members we currently have in detention. More generally, it could be to stage an audacious attack with the purpose of intimidating a country's government and to sway its electorate. Islamic terrorists still consider the impact the Madrid train bombings had on the Spanish election a few days later, where a government less committed to fighting terrorism was elected, as one of their major victories.

“A similar attack on Singapore might involve using the LNG carrier to threaten or damage population centers or important economic concentrations. The Hanjin Sun is far too large to enter the Singapore River and pose a threat to the banking and commercial center, but it could be positioned close to Changi airport or the PSA container port and seriously harm our tourism and transportation industries.

“However, I don't think that is their objective. Terrorist acts involving suicide operatives always end in some kind of spectacular conclusion. Just acting as a threat for days or even weeks, while economically extremely disruptive and politically challenging, just doesn't fit the pattern.

“If the hijackers intended a political attack on Malaysia, then the LNG carrier should be going the other way, up the Strait toward the port of Klang close to the Malaysian capital. It's difficult to see how they would threaten Malaysia by heading into the Singapore Strait. Similarly, if they were threatening Indonesian, why hijack a ship in the Malacca Strait, it's too far from the center of power in Jakarta and there are no critical Indonesian vulnerabilities bordering the Strait.

“Which leaves the United States and the East Asian countries as the potential targets. The Hanjin Sun is Korean registered, bound for the liquefied natural gas terminal at Inchon. Although, it's difficult to see why Indonesian based Islamic terrorists would launch an attack aimed primarily at Korea or any other East Asian country. These countries may be regarded as some kind of secondary target, but are unlikely to be the primary target. Which brings us back to, why hijack a LNG carrier in the Malacca Strait and then continue on into the Singapore Strait?

“Mr. Prime Minister, if I were asked to conclude what their eventual target was, I would say one or more ships of the Seventh Fleet currently in Changi Naval Base. The USA is enemy number one for Islamic terrorists and the Seventh Fleet must make a tempting target.”

Prime Minister Leung responded, "The American's seem to have reached the same conclusion. They have also informed us that the Seventh Fleet is about to deploy to sea. They have asked for tugs to get their ships out of the Naval Base. In light of your recommendation, I will have to tell them no tugs are available.

***

Dr. Kunderan warmly welcomed Charles, when he arrived at the Global Maritime Tracking Center, then led him into the large open area, which was a hive of activity.

Dr. Kunderan pointed to the map of the Straits displayed on the array of screens on the wall, and said, “For you to understand what is happening, I need to show national maritime boundaries on this map.”

Dr. Kunderan spoke to one of the people nearby and shaded areas appeared along the coastlines. The northern two thirds of the Strait had an unshaded area in the middle that progressively narrowed. In the southern third of the Strait, the shaded areas met in the middle of the Strait. The map highlighted Singapore's territorial waters. They covered a small area on the northern side of the narrowest part of the Strait.

“Singapore, in line with the UN Convention on the Law of the Sea, recognizes territorial waters extending twelve nautical miles from shore, that's about twenty kilometers. Indonesia and Malaysia have similar positions. Although, there are disputes about whether particular islets or shoals should be used as the baseline to measure the twelve nautical miles. These differences mean Malaysia and Indonesia have different views of where their territorial waters end. In addition, there is a dispute between Malaysia and Singapore over sovereignty of a small island called Pedra Branca at the eastern end of the Singapore Strait, which would significantly affect the maritime boundary between the two countries.

“I am telling you this, so you understand there is considerable scope for disputes or misunderstandings about whether a ship or aircraft is in the territorial waters or airspace of a particular country.”

Charles nodded and Dr. Kunderan continued.

“Remember, how I described the Straits as a funnel that empties into the South China Sea. You can see the wide end of the funnel at its northwestern end, and the narrow end of the funnel at its southeastern end, where the Strait turns from a northwest-southeast orientation to a west-east orientation in the Singapore Strait.

“These parallel lines show the main shipping channels. You can see that the eastbound shipping channel is completely in Indonesian territorial waters. Whereas, the westbound shipping channel is in Malaysian waters, except for about fifty kilometers through the Singapore Strait, which is in Singaporean territorial waters.

“I find that people not familiar with the geography of the Straits and the position of the shipping channels can get confused by where the shipping channels are in relation to the countries bordering the Strait.”

“I appreciate the explanation, Dr. Kunderan. I've sat through too many presentations, where I wasn't given sufficient background to make sense of the rest of the material.”

Someone handed Dr. Kunderan a sheet of paper and he stopped to read it.

He said, “It's confirmation from several sources that the Hanjin Sun is continuing down the Strait in the direction of Singapore. It's now less than ten kilometers from Singapore's territorial waters. Although, it's still in the eastbound shipping channel, which means it remains in Indonesian waters.”

Dr. Kunderan continued with his description of what had happened, “The Very large Crude Carrier was hijacked here in the eastbound shipping channel, about eighty five kilometers northwest of Singapore. It continued for another ten or twelve kilometers before the explosions on board caused it to run aground. Had it started to sink four or five minutes earlier, it would have been directly over Fair Channel Bank, one of the shallowest points in the Strait, which needs to be dredged on a regular basis. That is where a ship sunk in the channel would cause the maximum disruption to shipping, because it would be very difficult to create a temporary alternative shipping channel. We don't know if they intended to sink the ship over Fair Channel Bank and didn't get their timing right, but I suspect it was their intention. It also made me realize why 'watchman' timed his piracy attacks.”

Charles asked, “You think he was involved in this?”

“Yes, I do. I now see the 'watchman' piracy incidents were trial or training runs for hijacking and sinking a VLCC. The piracy aspect, stealing money and valuables, was just a cover to make us think they were run-of-the-mill piracy incidents. Unfortunately, that knowledge doesn't help us stop the hijacked LNG carrier, but it does pose some interesting questions. In particular, it shows the hijackers had an understanding of the vulnerabilities of shipping in the Strait that frankly surprises me.”

Charles said, “Dr. Kunderan, I appreciate you taking the time during a crisis like this to explain to me what is going on, but I'm concerned I am keeping you from your role in managing the crisis.”

“I don't have an operational role, Charles. My responsibility is to interpret events and give perspective on what is happening and to lay out what might happen next.

“Having you here helps me in several ways. Not least, it keeps me away from trying to manage the operational aspects of the crisis, which is not my job. Talking things through with you helps me organize my thoughts and sometimes the need to clearly articulate to someone what and why something is happening leads me to new insights.”

Dr. Kunderan's explanation didn't entirely convince Charles and he suspected there was an ulterior motive behind his invitation to the center.

Charles just said, “Nonetheless, I appreciate the time you are taking to explain things to me.”

Dr. Kunderan continued, “You can see that all eastbound shipping up to the location of the grounded VLCC has been halted, because the VLCC is blocking the shipping channel. Eastbound shipping, already past the grounded supertanker, is continuing through the Singapore Strait.

“We have stopped westbound traffic in Singaporean waters as a precautionary measure, even though the westbound shipping channel is still passable.”

Charles asked, “Why is eastbound shipping still continuing?”

“I'll get to that shortly. The Hanjin Sun, a Liquefied Natural Gas Carrier was hijacked almost thirty kilometers further down the Strait than where the VLCC was hijacked and sixteen or seventeen kilometers past the location the VLCC is now grounded. The LNG carrier was hijacked within minutes of the VLCC running aground and there is no doubt this is a coordinated operation. Since then, the Hanjin Sun has continued down the eastbound shipping channel and, as we have just heard, is now less than ten kilometers from Singaporean waters.

“We are trying to persuade the Indonesians to stop the eastbound shipping past the grounded VLCC in order to at least impede the progress of the LNG carrier, so far without success. With shipping stopped, the LNG carrier would have to navigate around stationary ships and that would at least slow it down. We believe the LNG carrier is being steered by one of the crew, and forcing it to navigate around stopped ships would give the person steering the opportunity to deliberately run the ship aground outside the shipping lane.”

Charles said, “Surely, they can see that the LNG carrier needs to be stopped.”

Dr. Kunderan replied, “We don't attribute any sinister motivation to the Indonesian's failure to stop the eastbound shipping. The problem is almost certainly a result of their culture of not making decisions that may attract blame or criticism. The problem will have been passed to Jakarta. I expect consultations are occurring and we anticipate a decision at any time. Unfortunately, the delay means the LNG carrier is getting closer to critical infrastructure all the time. It will shortly enter the Philip Channel and is less than an hour away from Singaporean container ports and oil refineries. Frankly, we are running out of time to stop it.”

Charles asked, “Do we know what is happening on board the LNG carrier?”

“The only information we have is a notification from the US Embassy to the Singapore Government that there are seven suicide bombers on board.”

Charles uttered an involuntary, “Oh shit.”

Dr. Kunderan added, “The Americans also said, we should not conduct an operation to retake the ship without first informing them, as they have military assets in the area and they implied on board the LNG carrier itself.”

Dr. Kunderan turned to face the other man. “Charles, let me be candid with you. I have an ulterior motive in inviting you here. The American notification proves they have detailed intelligence on what is happening on board the LNG carrier. We need to know more about what is happening, in order to make the right decisions. I have spoken already with the Prime Minister and he has instructed me to call him at any time with significant new information. At this moment, the only way I can think of to get more information, is by opening up a communications channel to the Americans, in order to find out more of what they know, and I am hoping you will do that for me.

“I don't need to know, how the Americans know what they know. In this situation, I don't care. If this is some new secret technology, then I'll take what I am told on trust. I just need to know what is happening on board that ship, in order to provide appropriate advice to the Singaporean Government.

“There is one other thing you should be aware of, Charles. My analysis concludes that the target of the terrorists on the LNG carrier is one or more ships of the US Seventh Fleet currently in Changi Naval Base. The American's need our cooperation to thwart such an attack. Remember, once the LNG carrier enters Singaporean waters, under international law, only the Singaporean Government can take action to stop it.”

Charles said, “I'll see what I can find out, and thank you for being so forthright with me.”

“Please, use my office. It's this way.”

Dr. Kunderan led Charles to his private office overlooking the Strait and then left him there, shutting the door on the way out. Charles took out his wallet, removed Captain Fordham's card and dialed his mobile number.

The phone rang for a long time and Charles was at the point of hanging up, when Fordham answered.

“It's Charles Corrigan. I'm at Dr. Kunderan's Institute.”

Fordham interrupted him. “Charles, if you are with Dr. Kunderan then you should know there is a crisis situation, and I'm really to busy to talk to you.”

“Captain, I called because Dr. Kunderan is concerned that we are not communicating what we know to the Singaporeans and they need to be informed, because a coordinated response is required to thwart the hijackers. He thinks their eventual target is the Seventh Fleet.”

“We have come to the same conclusion. A decision has just been made to deploy the Fleet to the South China Sea.”

Charles said, “Is that advisable, given it takes the Fleet out into the shipping channel and vulnerable to an attack by the hijacked LNG carrier?”

Captain Fordham responded, “The Admiral's standing orders specify that in the event of an imminent threat to a United States Navy vessel in harbor, or an imminent threat to unimpeded navigation through narrow or congested waters from that harbor, the fleet is to deploy without delay to open ocean. The Strait is already blocked in one direction and there is a hijacked ship heading this way. It could be used to block the other end of the Strait, bottling the fleet up and then who knows what happens next. Everyone is talking about this being potentially a SuperCole incident using explosive packed speedboats against US Navy ships in port. Or, it may be a 9/11 type attack with civilian aircraft against the US navy and the thousands of sailors on board those ships.

“The Admiral's duty is clear, the ships under his command must leave port immediately.”

Fordham continued, “Large naval ships normally require tugs to get out of port and into the main shipping channel, although, in an emergency, those ships can leave port under their own steam. So, we requested the Singaporean government urgently provide tugs to move the Seventh Fleet ships out of the Naval Base. They have just responded that no tugs are available. There was no explanation as to why. We can only assume the Singaporean Government wants to keep the Seventh Fleet in Changi Naval base.

“Charles, you have to realize that paranoia quickly takes over in these situations and frankly we are suspicious of the Singaporean Government's motivations in refusing to provide the tugs."

Charles said, “There may be a good reason why the tugs are not available and it hasn't been communicated.”

Fordham responded, “I know that there is not enough cooperation and information sharing with the Singaporean Government, but the communications mechanisms in place didn't anticipate this kind of crisis.”

“Dr. Kunderan is offering to be that communications channel. He is advising the Singaporean Prime Minister directly. Captain, can you stay on the line, while I talk to Dr. Kunderan?”

“Things are chaotic here, but I’ll keep the phone connection open for a couple of minutes.”

Charles left the office and found Dr. Kunderan talking to one of his associates, who he immediately dismissed when he saw Charles.

“Dr. Kunderan, the US Embassy is confused about your government's motivations in refusing tugs to take the Seventh Fleet ships out of the Naval Base.”

Dr. Kunderan replied, “We have a classified plan that I devised, to use all available tugs to protect the tankers in the Singapore Roads. That plan has been implemented, and that is why the tugs are not available. I'll determine if there are more tugs that can be made available, but I doubt we can get them quickly enough to help the Seventh Fleet.”

Charles went back into the office and picked up the phone. “Captain, are you still there?”

“Yes.”

“Dr. Kunderan has just told me that all available tugs are being used in a plan to protect the oil and fuel tankers anchored in the Singapore Roads. He will see if there are more tugs, but he's not optimistic they can be made available in time to help you.”

“Thanks Charles. That's good information. It should help lower the paranoia level around here.”

“Captain Fordham, it would help the Singaporeans make the right decisions if they had a better idea of what was happening on and in relation the hijacked LNG carrier, and it's clearly in the interest of the United States that Singapore makes the right decisions and timely decisions in this crisis. To do that, they need more information. Do we have more information that would help them?”

“Yes we do, but I'm not sure what I can tell you. The CIA is in charge of the operation and they are not letting a lot of information out. Let me get back to you on this.”

Charles didn’t have the opportunity to ask Fordham, if he knew why Jackson had disappeared. 'Personnel in the area' sounded like US Special Forces were near, or even on, the LNG carrier. If Jackson was one of them, Charles hoped that his resourcefulness and ability to think his way through a crisis served him well.

Chapter 41

Chapter 39

2006-04-06T23:58:00.000-07:00

The Singapore Strait, Indonesian Territorial Waters, On Board the Liquefied Natural Gas Carrier, Hanjin Sun
November 13, 2006, 02:00 local time

Jackson said to Joe, “It looks to me like they have placed explosives on the equipment used to contain the liquefied gas.”

“Shit, man. You mean the whole fucking ship's going to blow up?”

“It's not that bad. I was told that a sudden release of the gas would create a big cold gas cloud that dissipates quickly, but I wouldn't want to be around when it happens.

Jackson continued, “We need to stick with the plan of trying to take control of the bridge. Anil seems confident there are only two terrorists on the bridge and only one seems to be armed. What do you think, Corporal? “

Joe replied, “If it wasn't for the bomb vests, I'd say we burst in and waste them before they have a chance to react. We know from watching them on the beach that they're not professional soldiers. But man, those bomb vests scare me. If you get the drop on a man with a gun, he doesn't get enough time to raise his weapon and fire, before you kill him, but with a bomb, all he has to do is press a button and everyone around him is dead. Shit, maybe just surprising him will make him press the button.”

Jackson said, “The other thing we have to worry about is, we have only identified the location of four of the hijackers, two on the bridge and two guarding the crew on the deck. If all of the men with bomb vests boarded, there would have been seven hijackers.”

Joe said, “I'm certain I hit the man with a rifle at the railings.” I'm pretty sure he's dead.”

Jackson responded, “I think, the explosion earlier was probably one of the terrorists detonating his bomb vest. I saw how much explosives he packed into those vests, and the size of the explosion was about right. That still leaves one man, possibly two, unaccounted for. I've told Anil to watch the screens and tell us immediately if he sees someone, but I'd be a lot happier if I knew where that fifth man was. I need to talk to the SEAL Lieutenant. Maybe, he has more information.”

Jackson tried his radio again. “Still not working.”

Anil came over to them and said, “I notice you keep trying to use your radio. Radio waves just bounce off steel. You will need to go out on deck for your radio to work.”

Jackson asked, “How come, I can talk to Joe down the passageway?”

“Because when the radio waves bounce off the steel walls they are channeled along passage and stairways. Your radio will work for a considerable distance down passageways and even around several corners.”

Anil turned away and went back to watching the screens.

Jackson didn't want to risk going back up on deck just to talk to the Lieutenant, but felt he had no alternative. First, he needed to think through their alternatives.

Jackson said to Joe, “I can see two ways to approach this. One is we go with our original plan and try a coordinated attack with the SEALs. We take out the hijackers on the bridge, and the SEALs take out the hijackers on the deck guarding the crew. Maybe we will get lucky and take out all four without them detonating their bombs. That still leaves us with one or possibly two bombers loose on the ship and who knows what they will do in the time it takes us to call in reinforcements. Plus, there are those explosives on the gas containment vessel. We don't know how they are triggered.

“The other approach is to try and track down the one or two missing hijackers and take them out silently first. We can then do the coordinated hit with the SEALs, but at the risk of alerting the hijackers and possibly triggering a massacre of the crew.”

Joe said, “I don't like either. Do we have a plan 'C', Sarge?”

“Plan 'C' is we try and capture one of them alive, which is what the CIA wants and maybe get him to tell us what the target is, so the authorities are at least warned.”

“Try to capture a suicide bomber alive. That's crazy talk.”

Jackson heard Anil say, “Come here, please.”

Jackson went over to Anil. He was watching the screen that showed the bridge. One of the hijackers was gesticulating at the ship's Captain, who was shaking his head. Without sound, Jackson couldn't be sure, but it looked like the hijacker was angry with the Captain for refusing to do something.

The other hijacker on the bridge dragged one of the crewmembers toward the Captain and made him kneel in front of him. The second hijacker put the muzzle of his AK47 to the head of the kneeling crewman.

The Captain continued to shake his head, refusing to look at the kneeling man in front of him.

The first hijacker continued to gesticulate, then without warning the second hijacker fired at point blank range into the head of the kneeling crewman.

Even in black and white, and without sound, the murder was shocking. Jackson who had seen men shot, including men he had shot himself, physically reacted at the image of the man's body jerking as the gunshot blew half his head away. The Captain stared down at his dead crewman, now lying motionless in a rapidly spreading pool of blood.

Anil cried out, “They have shot the First Mate. He was my friend. He's dead. I can see him lying there.”

Jackson could see from the expression on Anil's face that he was in shock.

Now they had started killing crewmembers, it was time to act quickly and decisively.

Chapter 40

Chapter 38

2006-04-06T23:56:00.000-07:00

The Southern end of the Malacca Strait, Indonesian Territorial Waters, In the Vicinity of, and On Board the Liquefied Natural Gas Carrier, Hanjin Sun
November 13, 2006, 01:00 local time

Jackson explained to the SEAL Lieutenant what he planned and the SEALs' role.

“Your men need to be ready to take out the hijackers guarding the crew then get the crew to safety, either on my signal that we have control of the bridge or at the first sign things are going wrong for Corporal Bao and me. But, Lieutenant, please don't initiate the action prematurely or do anything that may alert the hijackers. It may compromise our attempt to covertly approach the bridge.”

The Lieutenant responded, “Understood, Sergeant. No one has come searching for us at the bow of the ship. We will wait in our current position until you are on board and in a position to storm the bridge. We will then move down the ship until the hijackers on deck are in range.”

Jackson thought the SEAL Lieutenant was being too cautious in waiting until he and Joe were in position before advancing, but Jackson had stressed that he shouldn't do anything that might alert the hijackers, so perhaps the Lieutenant had made the right decision.

It was strange that the hijackers weren't searching the ship, but perhaps they had attributed the explosion to one of the suicide bombers prematurely detonating his explosives. He had no explanation of why they hadn't investigated the man Joe had shot. Perhaps they assumed it was an attempt to board the ship, they had repelled, and were keeping watch for another attempt.

The SEAL helmsman took out several metal sections and began to screw them together to make a long pole.

“This is what we use to attach a ladder to the deck of a ship. The pole is difficult to handle and it would be better if I used it to attach the rope ladder, but I have to steer the boat. Getting close to the stern of a big ship when it’s underway is a difficult maneuver. So, I suggest you practice using the pole.”

The SEAL handed the pole to Jackson. Jackson held one end and practiced swinging the tip up and down, and from side to side. It felt like an overly long and rather heavy fishing pole.

The SEAL took out the tightly rolled ladder made of steel wire and unrolled it on the floor of the inflatable. He attached one end of the ladder to the end of the pole, with the ladder's wide U-shaped hooks pointing away from Jackson and handed the last rung at the other end of the ladder to Jackson.

“Now try with the ladder attached.”

Jackson tried the same movements and it had gone from a heavy fishing pole to a very heavy one, with the ladder causing substantial inertia. The need to grip the ladder's rung made manipulating the pole awkward. He was a strong man, but was having trouble getting the end of the ladder where he wanted it.”

“Don't let the ladder trail in the water. Even though it's steel, if it gets wet, it gets heavier and harder to handle and the water runs down the pole onto your hands.”

Jackson practiced manipulating the pole for a few minutes, before deciding that more practice would just tire his arms and shoulders, and would be unlikely to improve his skill.

He said to the helmsman, “Can you take the pole, while the Corporal and I prepare?”

“Give it here, Sergeant.”

The SEAL added, “You sure about this, Sergeant? Getting the ladder securely hooked onto a ship of this size is difficult even for someone who has practiced it. Don't secure the ladder properly, and you will find yourself in the ocean dangerously close to the ship's propellers, which will suck you in and turn you into sliced sashimi.”

Jackson paused before replying, “I'm sure.” He hoped he projected more confidence than he felt.

They made their final preparations, and Jackson checked his pistol was in easy reach of his free hand should he need it before putting on his climbing gloves.

He said to the SEAL, “We're ready.”

Jackson had trouble keeping the pole under control and out of the water as the inflatable's speed created wind drag on the pole, pushing it backwards and downwards. As the inflatable neared the ship' stern and slowed, the helmsman said, “Raise the end of the pole up the level of the deck.”

Jackson stood and swung the pole forward, reaching for the ship's deck, which seemed too far above the end of the pole.

The helmsman said, “Now, keep it there while I get closer. The trick is to let the inflatable's movement position the tip of the pole in the right place.”

As they came closer to the looming bulk of the ship, Jackson realized the pole might just reach. What he needed to do was make sure he successfully hooked the ladder onto the deck or lower railings.

The helmsman said, “We are almost directly underneath the deck. Reach up and try and hook it on the edge of the deck.”

Jackson held right at the end of the pole and pushed his arms upward. He felt a jarring as the other end of the pole hit the ship.

“Now drop your arms.”

Jackson did, and he felt the pole was much lighter. He looked up and saw the steel ladder trailing down from the ship's deck.

The helmsman said, “I think it's hooked. Try it.”

Jackson pulled on the ladder and felt solid resistance.

“Seems like it. What should I do with the pole?”

“Give it to me.”

The inflatable was now directly under the ladder, which hung vertically, its lowest rung dipping in the water with the motion of the ship

Turning to Joe, Jackson said, “Follow me.”

Jackson began to climb, resisting the urge to look down at the churning ship's propellers, not far below him.

Jackson made it to the top of the ladder and looked along the deck through the railings. There was no sign of the hijackers. He pulled himself over the railings and onto the deck, then unslung the M16 before signaling to Joe to follow.

Joe was already near the top of the ladder and climbed onto the deck almost immediately.

Jackson whispered to Joe, “I'm waiting for directions to the bridge.”

A voice over the radio told him, “Go to the left, around the side of the ship until you find a stairway on your right, going down. It should be about twenty meters away from your present location. Go down the stairway.”

The voice sounded vaguely Scandinavian and Jackson briefly wondered who it was.

Jackson said quietly to Joe, “Extreme caution if we encounter any of the suicide bombers. Just run if you see one and he sees you. Only shoot if you are sure he hasn't seen you and you have a clear head shot. In a close quarters firefight with a suicide bomber we are likely to lose even if we take him down. Understood?”

“Understood, Sergeant.”

Jackson pointed left to Joe, and both men began to cautiously make their way around the side of the ship.

Jackson kept the M16 at the ready. Joe has his M16 slung over his shoulder. He was holding his pistol in a two-handed grip, searching the ship's superstructure above them.

They edged slowly forward and Jackson saw a stairway going down into the ship's interior. He held up his hand to stop Joe and said into his radio, “I can see a stairway going down at the point the ship's side starts to curve away.”

The Scandinavian voice replied, “That's the place. Go down the stairs to the next level and follow the passageway until you come to a stairway to your right, going up.”

Jackson pointed to the stairs and started down, followed by Joe.

At the bottom of the stairs, he could see down a passageway lined with closed steel doors that stretched perhaps twenty meters before terminating in a steel wall. A long narrow corridor could be a deathtrap that in normal circumstances he would have avoided at all costs.

He turned to Joe and said, “Keep watch on the stairs. We do this, one at a time. We are looking for a stairway to the right going up. I'll go first. You cover me, then I'll cover you when you follow. Are you ready?”

“I'm ready, Sarge.”

Jackson ran down the passageway looking for a stairway to the right. He didn't see it until he had almost reached the end, and was considering turning around and running back. The stairway went both up and down. He dodged onto the first step and peer back down the passageway. He could see Joe covering the passage with his pistol.

He got back on the radio. “I've reached the stairway. What next?”

No response. He tried again and still no response. Jackson silently cursed the CIA and their jinxed operations. His radio mustn't work down here in the ship. He would have to go back out on deck to communicate with mission control.

As Jackson ran back down the passageway toward Joe, a cabin door opened ahead of him and he saw a figure step out. Jackson veered across the passageway and slammed into a slightly built South Asian pushing him back into the cabin. The man cowered in front of him, terrified by the powerfully built man armed with a rifle who had charged into him.

“Sergeant Jackson, US Army. Who are you?”

The man hesitantly replied, “Anil Kumblay, the ship's Second Engineer. What do you want from me?”

Jackson stepped back to the cabin door and gave Joe the thumbs up, before continuing his questioning of the man.

“Did you know this ship has been hijacked?”

“Hijacked,” the man, said with alarm. “I have just woken up and was going to the galley to get something to eat before going on watch.”

Jackson knew he had to decide whether this man was capable of guiding them through the ship.

“I'm here to stop the hijacking. Can you show me the way to the bridge?”

Anil replied, “How do I know you are telling me the truth and the ship has really been hijacked?”

“I think if you come with me, you will see that no one is on duty.”

Jackson could see the anxiety in the man's face as he said. “What do you mean no one on duty? Who is monitoring the pressure in the liquefied gas containment vessels?”

Jackson heard Joe's voice on the radio, which must still work at close range. “What's happening, Sarge? I don't like waiting out here. We need to keep moving.”

Jackson replied, “I've found someone who can guide us through the ship.”

Joe responded, “Let's get a move on then.”

Jackson asked the man in front of him, “Is there anywhere on the ship where we can see down into the bridge.”

Anil immediately replied, “You can see into the bridge from the bridge deck, which runs down both sides and along the front of the bridge.”

It didn't sound like what Jackson was looking for.

“I mean, is there another part of the ship where we can see down into the bridge from a distance?”

“No. Ships are designed to give maximum visibility to the bridge. Anything overlooking the bridge would block its visibility.”

Jackson asked, “How many entrances are there to the bridge?”

“Three, two outside to the bridge deck, and one through to the interior of the ship.”

They couldn't storm the bridge without knowing what was happening inside. Going in blind would be a recipe for disaster. It sounded to Jackson that the bridge deck was the best way to approach the bridge and get to see inside.

“If I were outside on the bridge deck, could I see into the bridge?”

Anil reacted as if it was a dumb question. “Of course. There are windows all around the bridge. As I said, the bridge needs maximum visibility.”

Anil added, “If you want to see what's happening inside the bridge you should watch the closed circuit television.”

“You mean there are closed circuit television cameras on the bridge?”

“Yes, they are all over the ship.”

“Where can we view them?”

Jackson heard Joe's voice again on his radio. “Sarge, I can hear people talking on the deck. I'm too exposed here. I need to come down to your position.”

Jackson knew that if both of them were in the cabin, it would too easy to trap them there. “Wait, I'm almost finished here.”

He said to Anil, “Take me to the nearest place where we can view the cameras and you will see I am telling you the truth.”

“The closed circuit television control room is down on the next level.”

“Which way?”

“To the left and down the stairway.”

Jackson spoke to Joe over the radio. “Corporal, this is what we are going to do. I will leave the cabin and go to my left to a stairway going down. When I make the stairway and confirm it’s clear. I will call you in.”

“Down? I thought we were going up to the bridge?”

“Well now we are going down, Corporal. I'm almost ready to go.”

Jackson said to Anil, “Take me to the closed circuit television control room.”

He said it as a command not as a request. He might need someone to show him how to operate the equipment.

Jackson continued, “I'll go first, you will follow close behind me. My partner will come running down this passageway in a few seconds with his weapon out. If you are not with me, he may mistake you for one of the hijackers and accidentally shoot you. Do you understand?”

Anil nodded.

Jackson didn't like to threaten the man, but he needed him to comply with his instructions.

“I am ready to leave. Make sure you follow close behind me.”

Jackson spoke into his radio. “Leaving the cabin now and going left to the stairs. A man is with me. Repeat, another man is with me.”

Joe replied, “Understood.”

Jackson put his head far enough out the still open cabin door to look in both directions. The passageway was clear.

Jackson said to Anil, “I'm leaving now. Stay close behind me.”

The man nodded.

Jackson stepped out the door and turned left, with his rifle in the high ready position, pointing forward. When he reached the stairway, he looked down. It was clear. He took two steps down, then turned around. He saw to his relief, Anil was directly behind him.

“Corporal, I'm on the stairs at the end of the passageway. Come down to my position.”

“On my way.”

Ten seconds later Joe was standing beside him. Jackson quickly explained they were heading to a closed circuit television monitoring room.

He asked Anil, “Which way now?”

“Down the stairs and to the right. Second, no third door on your left.”

Jackson pointed to Joe and said to Anil, “Stay with this man.”

Anil again nodded his understanding.

Jackson said to Joe. “I'll call you in when I find the right place.”

Jackson went down the steep stairway and quickly looked around the corner at the bottom. To the left, the passageway terminated in a steel bulkhead. To his right, it stretched about twenty meters before terminating in another steel bulkhead. Jackson went around the corner and opened the third door on his left. The nine or ten TV screens on the far wall left no doubt this was the right place.

“I've found it. I'll be in the passageway waiting for you, Corporal.”

“Coming, Sarge.”

A few seconds later Anil appeared at the bottom of the stairs closely followed by Joe. Jackson pointed to the room he had just entered. Anil hurried toward him and entered the room, with Joe close behind. Jackson looked both ways down the corridor before following them into the room.

“Corporal, guard the door and watch the passageway.”

When Jackson had first entered the room, he hadn't bothered to check what the screens showed. As he re-entered the room, his attention was draw to the screen Anil was focused on. It showed what must be the bridge. Two men were sitting on the floor, with a third man nearby wearing one of the explosive packed vests and holding an automatic weapon. Two other men stood nearby. One appeared to be a ship's officer. The other wore one of the vests.

Anil said, “I didn't believe you until now, but those men on the floor are the Radio Officer and the First Mate. Who are these people?”

“Terrorists,” was Jackson's one word answer. He didn't have time for a discussion of their motivations.

He looked at the rest of the screens. They showed black and white images of various parts of the ship. All of the screens periodically changed to a different image. One of the screens switched between two different views of the area where the crew were gathered, sitting on the deck.

Jackson said, “Explain to me what we are seeing.”

Anil replied, “This screen alternates between two views of the interior of the bridge from opposite sides. They both show the same people just from different angles. The man standing is the Captain. He is steering the ship. The men sitting on the floor are crewmembers. The two other men standing, one with a gun, I don't recognize.”

“Is there anyone else on the bridge we can't see in these images?”

“It's possible, but I don't think so.”

“What else?”

“These two screens show different views of the deck, forward of the bridge.”

“Have you seen the crew and two men guarding them?”

“Yes, I have."

“Let me know if anything changes with the crew or if either of the two men guarding them moves away.”

“Yes.”

A thought suddenly occurred to Jackson. “Is there a camera in this room?”

Anil replied, “No. Why would they position a camera in a close circuit television monitoring room, the observer was already in?”

Jackson ignored the rebuke to his logical reasoning and continued his questioning. “What else do the screens show?”

These three screens show various passageways and internal areas of the ship, like the engine room.'

Jackson said, “Pay special attention to those screens. If you see, anyone moving around the ship let me know immediately.

“Yes.”

“What else is there?”

“The rest of the screens monitor key positions in the liquefied gas cooling and containment systems.”

“Anything I should know about?”

“I did notice one thing. If you watch this screen, it should be back shortly.”

A few seconds later Anil pointed at the screen and said, “There. Can you see it?”

All Jackson could see was a bunch of pipes connected to something large and white. “What is it?”

“Some material has been attached to the exit valve housing of the third containment vessel.”

Jackson looked closely at the screen. He could now see the dark material wrapped around one of the pipes, with what looked like wires trailing down. He automatically knew they were explosives.

Chapter 39

Chapter 37

2006-04-06T23:53:00.000-07:00

Malacca Strait, Indonesian Territorial Waters, In the Vicinity of the Hanjin Sun
November 13, 2006, 00:30 local time

Jackson asked the SEAL steering their inflatable, “Do you know our current position?”

“The GPS says we are in Indonesian territorial waters heading toward the Singapore Strait, just under fifty kilometers away.”

A couple of minutes later, Jackson heard the voice of the Lieutenant.

“Sergeant, we are going to try and establish the location of the hijackers and crew. I want you to give us updates on what you see from the inflatable, especially any indications they may have detected our presence. The second inflatable will do the same on the other side of the ship.”

“Understood, Lieutenant.”

Jackson continued watching the two hijackers on the brightly lit deck. One of the men walked away from the rail and disappeared from view in the infrastructure between two of the liquefied gas containment domes, leaving the man with the rifle alone at the rail watching the ocean. Jackson updated the Lieutenant.

He only saw brief glimpses of the SEALs as they moved down the deck of the ship from one concealed position to another. The leading SEAL was more than halfway along the deck toward the rear of the ship, when a large explosion lit up the side of the ship. It was at the point on the deck where he had seen the hijacker disappear into the infrastructure. Jackson saw two bodies, illuminated by the expanding red ball, falling out and over the side of the ship and toward the water.

Jackson pointed at the ship and shouted, “Go, Go,” even though the inflatable had already started to accelerate toward the ship.

The inflatable sped over the water, and Jackson said to Joe, “Keep watch on the ship, while we search.”

The inflatable slowed as it approached the side of the ship and Jackson searched the dark water, illuminated by the ship's lights. He saw one man in the water and pointed, but the helmsman was already turning in his direction. The man was waving one arm.

“Lieutenant, we saw two of your men blown off the ship by the explosion. I can see one of them in the water. He's alive and signaling us.”

“Thank God. What about the other man?”

“We'll keep searching.”

Jackson heard mission control ask the Lieutenant if there had been a gas release. Jackson could hear the stress in the Lieutenant's voice as he responded, “What am I looking for?”

“A gas release will look like a large jet of white steam.”

“Sergeant, can you see a gas release?”

Jackson replied, “Definitely no gas release on this side of the ship.”

Joe said, “Armed man at the railing, Sergeant.”

“Take him down, Corporal.”

Joe's reply was a rapid series of three round bursts, followed by, “He's down.”

Jackson leaned out of the boat preparing to grab hold of the man in the water. The helmsman pulled him back and released a stretcher from the inside wall of the inflatable.

He said to Jackson, “Ever handled an outboard?”

Jackson replied, “A few times.”

“You just need to touch the throttle. It's very sensitive.”

“Understood.”

The helmsman called to the man in the water, “Can you grab hold of the stretcher?”

A weak voice came back. “Just one arm is working.”

The helmsman pushed the stretcher into the water and said to Joe, “Hold onto it here. I'm going in to help him.”

Joe looked at Jackson who said, “Give me the rifle.”

Joe handed it over saying, “It has a full magazine and the safety's off.”

Joe took hold of the end of the stretcher, as the helmsman rolled off the side of the inflatable and swam the short distance to the injured man. Jackson raised the rifle to his shoulder and kept a close watch on the railing above them.

The helmsman pulled the injured man onto the stretcher and secured him to it.

“Now, slowly pull the stretcher on board. Take care not to jerk it.”

Joe began to carefully pull the now heavy stretcher onto the inflatable, as the helmsman said, “Can you see the other man?”

Joe replied, “He's about ten meters behind you. Face down in the water.”

Jackson saw the second inflatable come toward them at high speed and pull alongside. He said to the helmsman of the second inflatable, “Two of your men were blown off the ship by the explosion. We just got one man, injured, on board the inflatable. The other man is in the water over there, with one of your guys swimming toward him.”

The second inflatable moved slowly in the direction of the man in the water and the swimming SEAL.

Jackson continued his watch of the ship's rail above, occasionally glancing across at the recovery of the second man using the same stretcher in the water technique. The man wasn't moving and he feared the worst.

Jackson saw two men running down the deck in their direction. He swung Joe's rifle in their direction and squeezed off two bursts. He didn't think he had hit them, but they disappeared from view.

The helmsman swam back to their inflatable and pulled himself in.

“The second man is still alive, although badly injured. We are going to pull back and transfer this man to the other inflatable. It will rendezvous with a medevac helicopter, which is on its way.”

Jackson moved out of the way and the helmsman took over the throttle of the big double engines, then they followed the other inflatable away from the ship.

As they transferred the injured SEAL, Jackson updated the Lieutenant. “One man has broken bones, but no shrapnel wounds I could see. He is conscious and should make it. The other is unconscious and seriously injured, but he's still alive. That's all I know. The other inflatable is taking both men to meet a Medevac.”

The Lieutenant replied, “Thanks for the update, Sergeant. We have pulled back to the bow of the ship where we have a clear field of fire and are awaiting new orders. Before we pulled back, the team on the other side of the ship did get to see that most of the crew were sitting on the deck just forward of the superstructure at the rear of the ship. One man with an automatic weapon and a second man were watching them. Both men had those vests on. They also saw at least three men on the bridge, but we don't know if they were hijackers or not. The crew are blocking access to the bridge from this direction, probably deliberately so.”

Jackson could hear the tension in the Lieutenant's voice, and replied, “We'll continue keeping watch from here, unless you want us on the other side of the ship.”

The Lieutenant replied, “No. Stay where you are on that side.”

Joe tapped him on the arm and pointed up. Jackson could see a pair of helicopters hovering in the air some distance away. His hearing must still be impaired.

The helmsman said to Jackson, “Someone wants to talk directly to you. Switch to channel nine.”

“Sergeant Jackson here.”

Carl said, “Sergeant, we still have had no communication from the vessel's hijackers and don't know what their objective is, but critical infrastructure will be in range, in as little as ninety minutes. The Singaporeans are scrambling an assault team, but it won't be ready for at least an hour. It's also unclear if they will attempt an assault while the vessel remains in Indonesian waters.

“Our options are limited. Any attempt to stop the ship by force, risks blocking the world's busiest shipping channel with a ship containing an extremely hazardous cargo that no one has any experience of clearing. Even if we could get an assault force to the ship in time to stop it reaching its intended target, and it's far from clear we can, the assault would we believe result in the hijackers either sinking the ship or colliding it with the nearest available target, probably another ship. It would also likely result in considerable loss of life amongst the crew and the assault force.

“The SEALs on board are compromised and can no longer covertly take control of the ship. However, we remain convinced a covert attempt to gain control of the bridge, is the best and likely only way to stop this ending in a disaster.”

Jackson knew what was coming next.

“Are you in a position to board the vessel at the stern and attempt to gain access to the bridge?”

“I've never boarded a ship at sea and I have no idea where the bridge is, were I to get on board. In fact, I know next to nothing about ships.”

Jackson refrained from pointing out that the Army didn't generally concern itself with ships, because it was under the impression that was what a Navy was for.

Carl responded, “But you and Corporal Bao are experienced climbers. Climbing up to the deck of a ship is no different from climbing up anything else. Once you are on board, I have someone here, who is familiar with the layout of the ship, and can guide you to the bridge.”

Jackson knew the CIA were leading him into another poorly planned and prepared operation, and resolved to say no.

“Sergeant Jackson, undertaking this operation will go a long way toward rectifying your earlier error of judgment that resulted in the death of the bomb maker, an extremely valuable intelligence asset.

“One other thing, Sergeant. We need at least one of the hijackers alive. Kill them all, and I'll be forced to reconsider whether I should overlook your error of judgment.”

Jackson was developing an intense dislike of Carl. Although he grudgingly admitted, the CIA man was applying the right pressure on him. He would go to considerable lengths to avoid having something on his service record that said he made poor decisions under stress, even if it wasn't true.

“Wait, while I speak to Corporal Bao.”

“Joe, they want us to board the ship and storm the bridge.”

“Why can't they send a trained assault force?”

“Not enough time, and they say the hijackers will probably sink the ship and kill the crew. Do you know anything about ships?”

“Sarge, I'd never even been in a boat before last week. This is all new to me. What about you?”

Jackson replied, “I'm the same, know nothing about them, but it seems we are the only option to stop heavy loss of life in a major terrorist attack.”

Joe said, “If you are for it Sarge, then count me in.”

Jackson wondered if he should tell the young Ranger about the CIA's threat to ruin his career. He knew it was influencing his decision.

Jackson said to Carl, “Let me see if we have the equipment.”

Jackson asked the helmsman, “That long pole your guys used to hook the ladder to the railings, do you have another one?”

“Yes, we have one on this inflatable. Where do you plan to board the ship?”

“At the back of the ship. We need to be well away from the SEALs on the forward deck.”

“The stern overhangs the water enough that the inflatable can get directly below the deck. We would be hidden from anyone on deck, but we need to keep away from the ship's propellers. Fall off the ladder or have the ladder detach while you're on it, and you want to be as far away as possible from the ship's propellers. I can stay directly below you until you have reached the deck. Then if you need to abort, you can grip the sides of the ladder, slide back down into the boat and we leave at high speed.”

Jackson liked the sound of that. He wasn't relishing hanging off a flimsy wire ladder over the ocean.

Jackson reached his decision, switched on his microphone, and said, “We'll do it.”

Chapter 38

Chapter 36

2006-04-06T23:51:00.000-07:00

Center of the Malacca Strait, Indonesian Territorial Waters
November 13, 2006, 00:10 local time

Both SEAL inflatables kept far enough way to remain out of sight of anyone on board the giant LNG carrier.

Jackson was beginning to think he wouldn't get to use the grenade launcher and would be excluded from the operation entirely. He had no experience of boarding ships at sea, and even if he had, these men had trained as a team and wouldn't want him in the way.

The Lieutenant came on the radio. “Sergeant Jackson, Corporal Bao, my men are going to board the ship from one of the inflatables. While we are boarding, I need you to form a fire suppression team on the other inflatable. If the hijackers spot us, you need to ensure they don't fire down on us. When we are on board the ship, you need to ensure any of the hijackers who approach our position are driven back toward the rear of the ship. I realize a small boat at sea is not a good platform for a sniper, but I need kill shots if possible.”

“Understood, Lieutenant. We will do our best, but I need a rifle.”

“There is a spare rifle and a supply of ammunition on board the other inflatable. I'll arrange for you to get it.”

Jackson asked, “What will the other inflatable do after you board the ship?”

The Lieutenant replied, “They will go to the far side of the ship and keep watch on that side.”

The two inflatables followed the LNG carrier, about five hundred meters away, and the SEALs began to prepare equipment. The moon was almost full and gave enough light to see by.

The SEALs on board their inflatable began to transfer across the other inflatable. Jackson took the opportunity to speak with Joe.

“Corporal, I need to borrow your weapon for a minute.”

“Sure thing, Sergeant.”

Joe passed him the weapon. Jackson sighted the M16 rifle on the ship and saw how, despite his best efforts, it wandered up and down the side of the ship in the distance with the motion of the inflatable.

“From this distance, we can't do more than spray rounds over their heads and hope it keeps them back. Here Corporal, try sighting the ship's deck, with the inflatable's motion.”

“I already tried, Sarge. We need to be a lot closer to have any chance of hitting someone on board.”

“Agreed, Corporal. Let me talk to the Lieutenant.”

Jackson spoke on the radio, “Lieutenant, Corporal Bao and I can fire a lot of rounds over the ship, but that's all we can do at this range. We need to be a lot closer to provide effective suppressive fire.

“How close, Sergeant?”

“Two hundred meters or less or will get us to a range where we stand a chance of hitting our targets.”

“Sergeant, you realize that at two hundred meters, an inflatable makes an easy target for someone firing down from a large ship.”

Jackson responded, “Not when we are firing back at them.”

“Then you have my permission to close to within two hundred meters during the time we are boarding, but not until we are under fire or other imminent threat. I'll tell the helmsman. Remember, this is a covert boarding and we intend to catch the hijackers by surprise. Don't compromise that.”

“Understood, Lieutenant.”

The Lieutenant added, “I have the rifle and ammunition here. If you reach across, I'll pass it to you.”

Jackson reached across to the other inflatable, and took the weapon.

Jackson turned to Joe, and said, “You hear that, Corporal?”

“Yes, Sergeant.”

“We need to agree our tactics before this goes down. Ever fired a weapon from a small boat like this?”

“Nope. How about you?”

“Just ducks.”

Joe responded, “Never figured you for a hunter, Sarge. Though it was just those country boys were into it.”

Jackson replied, “Uncle of mine retired to the south Texas coast. Took it up as a hobby. Used to take me out. I figured out one thing though. If you are shooting from a small boat, you stand up, try to ignore the motion of the boat and focus on your target.

“Here is what I propose. If the SEALs are spotted, you keep up a steady fire. It don't matter what you hit. Fire over their heads if needed. Just make sure they know someone is shooting at them and that should make them keep down. I'll try aimed fire and try to bring down anyone who is a threat.”

“Sounds good to me, Sarge.”

Jackson kept watch on the ship, as the SEAL's inflatable circled around to the front of the LNG carrier. Toward the rear of the ship, he saw men climb over the rails and begin to descend the ropes into the small boat.

“Lieutenant, I can see men leaving the ship and boarding the boat on this side of the ship.”

“How many men?”

“I can see seven or eight.”

“Acknowledged.”

The helmsman tapped Jackson on the shoulder and pointed past the stern of the LNG carrier. Jackson focused his binoculars in that direction and could see the small boat that had brought the suicide bombers was now heading away from the ship, with only two men on board.

“Lieutenant, I can see the other small boat leaving with just two men on board.”

“Are you sure it’s the same boat and only two men on board?”

“I'm sure.”

A short while later, Jackson said, “There are eight men on board the boat on this side, and it's moving away from the ship. Lieutenant, do you want us to engage them?”

“No, our command center anticipated this. A team with experience of hijacking large vessels helps the suicide bombers board the ship, then leaves. Let the boats go. We need to keep ourselves covert for our boarding. Just make sure those boats don't come close to either of our inflatables. When they are clear of the area, we will board the ship. Your role is unchanged. Keep watch for and deal with, any threats on deck, to our boarding.”

Jackson continued observing the ship, and periodically watched the small boats as they left. When the boat that had boarded on this side reached the other boat, both turned northeast and sped away into the darkness toward the Sumatran shore.

The Lieutenant came on the radio and said, “OK, we go now. Men, we need to make the ascent as fast as possible.”

Jackson stood in the center of the inflatable's rigid floor and practiced aiming at the ship. He found he could stand and keep a reasonably steady aim point despite the motion of the inflatable in the gentle swell, just like when he hunted ducks with his uncle.

Jackson saw that Joe was checking magazines and practicing clearing jams.

The helmsman said, “They should be close now.”

Jackson picked up his binoculars and watched the other inflatable approach the slow-moving ship.

He heard the Lieutenant on his radio, “We are about to attach the ladder. Everyone standby.”

Jackson turned to the helmsman and said, “Move up to four hundred meters from the ship, and be prepared to move in closer, on my command.”

Through his binoculars, Jackson alternately watched the ship's deck and the SEAL's inflatable as it slowed beneath the ship's massive bulk. The ship's size and height dwarfed the large inflatable, capable of holding a dozen men.

“Are you ready, Corporal?”

“Locked and loaded, Sarge.”

“Standby, Corporal.”

Jackson saw a pole perhaps ten meters long extend upward with what looked like a ladder made of steel wire attached to it. It only just reached the ship's deck, and in what was clearly a practiced move, the pole came back down leaving the ladder attached. A black-suited man began to climb the ladder, followed closely by a second man.

Jackson searched the ship's railing for any sign of the hijackers.

He looked back at the men climbing the wire ladder. The leading man was only halfway up. He though to himself, 'Too slow'. You needed to execute these kinds of surprise operations quickly. Lose the element of surprise that speed brings and trouble can quickly find you.

He went back to watching the deck of the big ship and saw two of the bomb vest wearing hijackers appear from between the second and third liquefied gas containment domes. They started to walk in the direction of the bow of the ship. They were no more than fifty meters away from where the SEALs had attached their ladder to the railings. As the two walked along the deck, they had only to go the rail and look over, and they would see the ladder and the men ascending it.

Jackson signaled to the helmsman to move the inflatable closer to the ship. Perhaps they could act as a decoy.

“Corporal, on my command, open fire over the heads of those men on deck.”

“Ready.”

Jackson turned to the helmsman. “We are going to try and draw those men away from where the SEALs are boarding and back down toward the rear of the ship. Can you come in from the rear of the ship and approach it at a sixty-degree angle, then abruptly turn around and pull back to about four hundred meters from the ship?”

Jackson explained the angle of approach he wanted, using his forearm to represent the ship and his other hand as their inflatable and its angle of approach.

The SEAL helmsman asked, “How close to you want to approach the ship?”

“Two hundred meters. That should keep us out of range of someone on deck, assuming there isn't a marksman on board, and I don't think there is.”

“How fast?”

“Fast as you can.”

The helmsman said, “Ready when you are, Sergeant.”

“Then let's go.”

The SEAL turned the throttle and the powerful twin engines pushed the large inflatable at high speed over the water. Jackson had to hold on to the webbing during the rapid acceleration. He was starting to see the attraction of very fast boats. The helmsman turned the boat in a tight arc and headed straight for the side of the ship, about a quarter of the way down its length from the stern.

Jackson needed to tell the Lieutenant and through him the SEALs boarding the ship what was going to happen.

“Lieutenant, can you hear me?”

The reply came back, accompanied by distinct splashing sounds. “I hear you, Sergeant.”

“Lieutenant, there are two men on deck forty meters from where your men are boarding. We are about to mount a diversionary attack to draw them away from your position. The gunfire you are about to hear is our diversionary attack. Understood,”

“Understood, Sergeant.”

Jackson leaned across the boat to Joe and said, “Corporal, in about five seconds, on my command, I want you to fire a burst over the heads of the men on deck. Keep firing bursts at two or three second intervals, until I tell you to stop. Then the inflatable is going to turn sharply about two hundred meters from the ship. Make sure you hang on. I don't want to have to come back, under fire from the ship, to fish you out of the water.”

Joe raised the rifle to his shoulder, at the same time saying, “Ready.”

As the black inflatable raced across the water, Jackson studied the ship through his binoculars. As far as he could tell, the two men had not detected either their inflatable or the SEALs climbing the ladder.

“Corporal, open fire now.”

The two hijackers reacted to the three round burst, by running back along the deck toward where their inflatable was heading directly at the ship.

Jackson heard a second burst from Joe. So far, there was no return fire from the ship, even though one of the men on deck was carrying an automatic rifle.

The inflatable closed to within two hundred and fifty meters of the big ship, before Jackson saw a muzzle flash from the rail.

Jackson waited for Joe's next burst, before saying, “Corporal, cease firing and hold on tight,” then to the helmsman, “Turn around now.”

The SEAL turned the inflatable around within ten meters. Jackson hung onto webbing along the inside of the boat, as his momentum threatened to throw him into the water.

“Anyone hit, or see where those rounds went?”

Both men answered no, and Joe added, “I think their fire went well over us, Sarge.”

As the inflatable raced away from the large ship, the SEALs, climbing the ladder near the front of the ship, came back into view. Jackson could see that the lead SEAL had almost reached the deck. He was still surprised at how long it was taking them to board the vessel.

“Lieutenant, can you hear me?”

“I hear you. I heard the gunfire as well. What happened?”

“We drew the hijackers at least fifty meters down the deck away from your position. We fired some rounds over their heads and they returned fire, missing us. I hope that they think they drove us off and will spend the next few minutes keeping watch for our return. Good luck.”

“Thanks, Sergeant.”

Their inflatable was now well clear of the large ship and Jackson signaled for the helmsman to slow down. Jackson resumed watching the deck through his binoculars. He could see three SEALs had climbed onto the ship's forward deck.

He looked back along the ship and the two hijackers were well away from the SEALs climbing the ladder and on the deck. He could see another of the hijackers further back, just forward of the superstructure at the rear of the ship.

Jackson said to the helmsman, “Be prepared for the same maneuver if those men start to move back down the ship to where the SEALs are boarding. Can you move the inflatable closer by a hundred meters?”

“You want me to do it now, Sergeant.”

“In a moment.”

Jackson watched the last of the SEALs climbing the ladder make it onto the deck. He switched his attention to the two hijackers further down the deck. They hadn't reacted, so the SEALs were still undetected.

“Lieutenant, All your men are on board. No reaction from the hijackers. You are undetected so far.”

Chapter 37

Chapter 35

2006-04-06T23:47:00.000-07:00

Singapore, Central Business District, South East Asian Institute of Strategic Threats
November 13, 2006, 00:05 local time

A call just after midnight woke Dr. Kunderan. He told his wife why he was leaving, dressed and moved quietly through the large apartment, taking care not to wake the children.

He exited the elevator on the ground floor and found a police car waiting for him. He got into the back seat and the car left the apartment complex. It turned on its siren, as it drove at high speed through streets still busy at this late hour.

Not much more than five minutes later, he was entering the institute. His Assistant Director, who had been on duty, came up to him.

“We have a Level Four alert.”

“I know, give me the details.”

“Less than an hour ago, the Svendborg, a VLCC heading eastbound through the Strait, about eighty kilometers northwest of Singaporean waters in the vicinity of Sinunjung, sent a mayday message saying a piracy incident was in progress. There were no further transmissions from the VLCC, but we have just received a report of a VLCC veering out of the eastbound shipping channel, seventy kilometers northwest of Singaporean waters.”

“How have the Indonesians and Malaysians reacted?”

“No information so far on any response they may be making.”

“Has the Prime Minister been briefed?”

“No. We were waiting for you to arrive.”

Dr. Kunderan told himself he would wait ten minutes and see how events unfolded, before calling the Prime Minister.

“What else?”

Our monitoring center has picked a sharp increase in communications traffic from the US Seventh Fleet. We can't read it, but we have to assume they know something is going on. We also have a report from the police that sailors on shore leave have been told to return to their ships immediately. Not that too many will be out at this time. It must be close to their curfew.

“How do the police know?”

“A group of US sailors flagged down a police car and told them they had been ordered to return their ship, and could the police drive them there.”

“Send a status report to the US Embassy, although they probably know at least as much as we do at this stage, and invite them to send an observer to the Center as they are entitled to, under the treaty.”

A young woman passed a piece of paper to the Assistant Director, who quickly read it, before passing it to Dr. Kunderan. It carried a report that a Danish cargo vessel had seen two large explosions on board a VLCC, and that they could see a spreading oil slick. The VLCC was drifting out of the shipping channel and appeared to be listing.

Dr. Kunderan gathered himself before calling the Prime Minister.

A male secretary answered. Dr. Kunderan stated who he was and why he was calling and after a brief delay, he got to speak directly to Prime Minister Leung.

“Dr. Kunderan, I was expecting your call.”

“Prime Minister, then you will already know we have a terrorist incident in the Malacca Strait.”

“I was informed ten minutes ago, but tell me what you know.”

“There have been multiple large explosions on board the Svendborg, a Swedish registered Very Large Crude Carrier, eighty kilometers northwest of the Sultan Shoal lighthouse and seventy five kilometers from Singaporean waters. Reports say the vessel is drifting out of control and spilling large amounts of crude oil.”

“Is this a terrorist attack?”

“Yes it is. We received an interrupted mayday message that pirates were boarding the vessel. That combined with the later reports of explosions on board the ship conclusively prove this is terrorism.”

“Any indications of further terrorist activity?”

“None at this time, Prime Minister.”

As Dr. Kunderan spoke, someone placed a piece of paper in front of him. He quickly read it.

“Prime Minister, we have just received a mayday message from the Hanjin Sun, a Korean Liquefied Natural Gas Carrier, fifty five kilometers northwest of Singaporean waters. They report pirates are boarding on the starboard side of the ship. Gunfire is occurring.”

“Dr. Kunderan, can you please wait, I need to authorize a number of mobilizations and emergency measures, but I have further questions for you.”

“Yes, sir.”

He waited more than ten minutes, before he heard the voice of the Prime Minister again. “Dr. Kunderan, my apologies for keeping you waiting. I have several questions for you. My questions are, in your assessment are we seeing a coordinated terrorist attack in the Malacca Straits? What is your assessment of further attacks and what form will they take? In addition, do you think these attacks are specifically targeted at Singapore? But firstly, are there any additional developments I should be aware of?”

“We have two additional reports of a VLCC sinking, possibly run aground just south of Fair Channel Bank, seventy kilometers northwest of Singapore waters, and spilling large amounts of crude oil,”

“Any further news on the LNG carrier?”

“No further news, sir,”

“My questions.”

Dr. Kunderan momentarily struggled to recall the Prime Minister's three questions, then replied, “The proximity in time and location of the two hijackings mean this is a coordinated terrorist attack. At this time, I cannot say whether there will be further attacks or what form they will take, but my advice is to assume there will be and take appropriate precautionary measures. In particular, you should immediately shutdown Changi Airport, close our airspace and ban all seaborne traffic from entering Singaporean waters.

“I have no indications these attacks are specifically targeted against Singapore, but given their location and the fact they are in the eastbound lane, on ships heading toward Singaporean waters, it would be prudent to assume that the LNG carrier will be used against Singaporean targets.”

“Thank you, Dr. Kunderan. Call me on the hotline if there are further developments.”

“Yes, Prime Minister.”

Dr. Kunderan knew he faced a long night ahead of him. He'd call his wife, shortly. She would be awake wondering what was going on. He'd reassure her that the crisis wasn't as bad as the news would portray it. Then he'd ask her to send their maid first thing in the morning, with his usual breakfast.

He sat at his desk and brought up the Institute's news digest screen, which listed in chronological order a summary of all the significant reports coming into the Institute. Each was time stamped. The fact he had been at the Institute for over an hour surprised him. It felt like just a few minutes.

After a moments thought, he picked up his mobile phone and dialed a number from its address book. It rang several times before a sleepy voice answered.

“Charles, my sincere apologies for waking you at this late hour, but we have a serious terrorist incident ongoing, and I thought you would like to see the Institute operating during a maritime crisis.”

“Yes, I would, very much, but what's the crisis.”

“Good. I'll explain what's happening when you get here. A car will be waiting for you outside your hotel in twenty minutes time.”

As Dr. Kunderan hung up, he thought the Americans clearly know what is going on. Perhaps, he could use Charles to open a communications channel to find out what they did know and perhaps even how they knew.

He turned to look out of his office window. The waters of the Singapore Strait were never dark. At night, the lights from the container ports, refineries and high-rises buildings along the shore illuminated the Strait. The ships themselves were always brightly lit.

The view from his office wasn't as good as that from the circular building he had taken Charles to on the day he arrived, but he could see there were at least forty refined products and oil tankers anchored in the Roads. Looking across the shipping channel, he could see the islands of the Riau Archipelago, green in the daytime, were now dark with lights along the shoreline.

Westbound shipping through Singaporean waters had already been halted. Ships continued to move eastbound on the Indonesian side of the Strait, but they would be ships that were further down the Strait than the hijacked and now grounded supertanker blocking the channel. In less than three hours, the eastbound traffic would also stop as those ships passed through the Strait. There was no possibly of restarting shipping in either direction until they knew what was happening on board that Liquefied Natural Gas Carrier.

***

Commander Braddock read Bob's online message, marked as urgent, for the fourth time.

Commander, the software is flagging as significant the small boat traffic from the beach on Palau Nua island. It concludes the movements resemble the earlier piracy incidents sufficiently that there is a greater than 50 percent probability that a piracy incident is about to occur. Although rather than one boat, three boats have left the island. Two boats left an hour ago and are following the previous pattern prior to a hijacking. The third boat left three hours earlier, and went to those uninhabited islands to the south the suspected hijackers have visited repeatedly over the last few weeks.

Each time he reread the message, he felt a growing doubt that his decision of the previous day had been the right one. His concern not to be labeled as someone who issued unsubstantiated warnings might result in him being labeled the man who could have stopped a major terrorist attack and didn't.

Like everyone in the data mining community, he knew about the Able Danger data mining operation that identified Mohamed Atta and three others of the 9/11 hijackers as Al-Qaeda members. Yet no one acted on that information and the opportunity to stop the most devastating terrorist attack ever was missed. Braddock shuddered at the thought he might similarly go down in history as the man who could have stopped a major maritime terrorist attack and didn't.

Braddock picked up his phone and dialed. “Bob, can you come to my office, to discuss the Palau Nua situation?”

“Now.”

“Yes, right away.”

As Braddock waited for Bob, he continued to ponder his decision of twenty four hours earlier. Perhaps he needed to stop worrying if it was the right decision and concentrate on justifying why it was.

“Bob, come in and shut the door behind you.”

Braddock waited for Bob to take a seat opposite him before starting his questioning.

“What significance do you attach to these latest boat movements?”

“The software is flagging the movements as similar to previous piracy incidents and indicative that another piracy incident is about to occur.”

“Yes, but what do you think?”

“I'm not sure what the movements mean. The fact three boats are involved says something is going to be different. It's either a bigger attack than the previous ones, or something unrelated to piracy is happening.”

Braddock understood the problem. Data mining was a breakthrough because it turned up connections and similarities that no human analyst would ever find. Yet it lacked the human ability to inject what, for want of a better word, Braddock called common sense into its analysis. So, was this a case of data mining finding a pattern that eluded humans or was it a case of a spurious similarity fooling the software?

Braddock asked, “As an analyst, do you think the boat movements are significant, irrespective of what the software says?”

“Commander, as you said yesterday. I get paid to find this stuff. You get paid to decide if it's important enough to do something about.”

Braddock felt Bob was rebuking him, for not acting on the earlier information and issuing a terrorism alert.

He was faced with the same decision that he had faced twenty fours earlier. Was the software finding similarities in the boat movements that showed similarity of purpose, or was the software finding similarities that resulted from some other cause or were just coincidence? Should he issue an alert or wait for more data confirming or discounting it was terrorism?

Braddock checked the times on the printout Bob had handed him. The two boats had left the beach nearly four hours earlier. The third boat had left even earlier. If a piracy incident was planned, it might already be underway.

“Thanks, Bob. That's all.”

Bob rose from the chair and then said, “Commander, there are two other things, I think you should know about.”

“Yes.”

“The first boat that left Palau Nua went directly to the uninhabited islands they have been visiting. It stayed less than twenty minutes and then headed back in the direction it came.”

Braddock though, more tantalizing mysteries. Traveling that distance to spend less than twenty minutes at the island meant they had either dropped off or picked up something, and he had no idea what.

“And the other thing?”

“I’ve just had a call from the National Geospatial-Intelligence Agency. They told me, the CIA's Clandestine Operations Service has requested boat tracking data on an area centered on those exact same uninhabited islands. They say their analysts can't find anything to differentiate those islands from the thousands of other uninhabited islands in the area, and they want to know why we are interested in them.”

“What did you tell them?”

“I said I would pass their request onto you.”

When Bob left, Braddock picked up his phone and dialed the contact number for the CIA's Counter Terrorism Center. Someone at the other end answered.

“This is Commander Braddock from the Maritime Piracy Detection Program. I have something for you that might be significant.”

“Can it wait? We have a major terrorist incident ongoing in the Malacca Strait. Our guys are on the scene. All hell has broken loose here.”

Braddock hesitated, but knew the information he had was now stale. He replied, “It can wait,” and hung up the phone.

He opened a desk drawer and took out a remote control. He turned on the TV in the corner of his office. It showed the CNN news desk. He muted the sound. The ticker across the bottom of the screen was repeating the same news item.

Breaking: Supertanker hijacked in SE Asia. Reports of explosions and ship sinking.

As he watched in silence, the news ticker added,

Oil up $10.50/barrel; Dow Jones futures down 900 points.

Chapter 36

Chapter 34

2006-04-06T23:44:00.000-07:00

Indonesia, On Board a Small Cruiser in the Riau Archipelago
November 12, 2006, 23:00 local time

There was a short debriefing on board the cruiser that included the SEALs. When it finished, Rick took Jackson to one side and said, “The CIA's Clandestine Service badly needed a live terrorist to interrogate for information, and a senior bomb maker would have been a real catch. Now all they have is a bag full of body parts and they are going to blame you.

“I know what happened to those two CIA operatives in Azerbaijan and I know you came out a hero and the Agency was deemed responsible for the deaths of two of its operatives. But, it's in the nature of organizations to blame outsiders when things go wrong. The CIA blames you for those deaths, and will try to pin the failure of this operation on you.”

Jackson said, “I almost certainly saved several men's lives today.”

“I know that, but the way the reports are going to be written is, a two-man observation post poorly armed, without the right equipment, and without informing higher authority, attempted to detain a terrorist, deliberately preempting a fully equipped and trained SEAL apprehension operation. As a result of this unplanned, unauthorized and poorly executed operation, the target committed suicide and we lost a unique opportunity to gain valuable intelligence on a dangerous, but little know, terrorist network.

“You will be portrayed as making grab for personal glory, and causing a fuck up that was completely your fault. I know it isn’t fair my friend, but trust me, that's the way it will go down. The CIA in Singapore is already gloating over your screw up. You will be lucky to get out of this, with a negative assessment on your record. My guess is they will try to court-martial you. The Agency isn’t going to miss its chance for payback after the pain and embarrassment you caused them.”

“Thanks for letting me know, Rick. Any ideas as to what I should do?”

“The SEAL team is about to chase after the boat that left here a couple of hours ago. It's under some kind of technical surveillance right now. The SEALs are going to try to stop whatever those men have planned and hopefully catch a couple of them.

“The SEAL team leader needs someone with local knowledge and background on the situation. He asked me to go along with them. I said no, because I have to stay with the cruiser. If you like, I'll recommend he take you and Joe along. He's Navy and they don't have an ax to grind about you. The more he sees of you, the more there will be a second voice saying you did the right thing.”

“Thanks, Rick. I owe you, and I'll go along with the SEALs, if they want me.”

Rick replied, “I'll go talk to him right now. Besides, he's a man short. One of the SEALs in the water when the bombs went off got a minor wound from flying debris. He should be glad of two more trained Special Forces men, even if they are Army.”

***

The Navy Lieutenant briefed his team on the mission, which now included Jackson and Joe.

“This is what I have currently. The boat containing the men wearing bomb vests is under some kind of surveillance. I've been informed it went initially to this location here.”

The Lieutenant pointed to a chart of the Malacca Strait laid out on Rick's chart table, and the SEALs crowded round to see the chart.

“... where it rendezvoused with two other boats of similar size. It then traveled approximately fifteen kilometers southeast, parallel with the shipping channel over a period of almost an hour, accompanied by one of the two other boats. It then turned around and returned to its start point, as did the other two boats. We surmise the two boats were following a ship, although we don't know why they stopped following the ship and returned to their initial position.

“Our mission is to intercept, specifically the boat with the suicide bombers on board. Should we assess the other boats at the location are a threat to shipping, we are similarly authorized to intercept those boats. We are also authorized to take whatever actions are required to prevent any terrorist act that may be in progress or imminent. In addition, we are charged with apprehending one or more individuals for interrogation purposes.

“Some ground rules, men. The boats are currently in Indonesian territorial waters. When the two boats followed that ship, they approached to within three kilometers of Malaysian territorial waters. Those boats could enter or flee into Malaysian waters at any time. Consequently, we are authorized to conduct our operation in the waters of either country, on the basis that these people represent a clear and imminent threat to international shipping engaging in innocent passage of the Strait.

“That doesn't mean the governments of Indonesia and Malaysia have agreed to our operation. I can tell you they haven't. They have not been informed, and the longer they know nothing about it, the better. If we encounter naval or police vessels from either of these countries, we are to withdraw and remain on standby, pending further orders.

“Our orders are to not to allow ourselves to be apprehended either by the Indonesians or the Malaysians. If pursued, we depart at high speed in the direction of our pickup location. If for any reason we cannot make our planned pick up, then we head for Singapore and surrender to the Singaporean authorities, who, our mission control assures me, will hand us over to our people.

“This will be a deadly force mission. We are not going to take any chances with seven men wearing bomb vests and if they all die in the operation and we end up with no captives. I'd rather that outcome, than one of us gets killed or injured.

“Our plan is to use gunfire to sink the boat with the bombers on board and any other boats we find in the immediate vicinity, as soon as they come into range. We continue our fire until all boats are either sunk or abandoned. We then move in to pick up any survivors.

“I am assured the bomb vests are very unlikely to work if submerged in water. I don't want that information proved wrong, so extreme caution with anyone you find alive in the water. If you think he is still a threat, use deadly force.

“I don't anticipate we will be doing any swimming or boarding on this operation, but we take the gear just in case.

“Finally, I'd like you all to meet Sergeant Delisle Jackson, US Army Delta Force and Corporal Joseph Bao, US Army Rangers. Both of them will accompany us on this mission. Sergeant Jackson will take the grenade launcher. Rumor has it, he's pretty handy with one. Corporal Bao will take Sikorsky's M16. Both men will ride in my boat.

“That's it. Any questions?”

“What happens if we get caught by the Indonesians or Malaysians?”

“Just make sure you don't, because if you do, it will be a major diplomatic incident and chances are that you will be spending time in a jail cell, perhaps a long time.”

There were no more questions.

“The praying men have thirty seconds to say them, before we leave.”

Jackson saw most of the SEALs bow their heads. Joe joined them, and after a moment’s hesitation, he did as well.

As they were boarding the matte black, rigid inflatables with large twin outboard engines, the Lieutenant announced.

“The target boats are on the move again. It seems the location data we are getting is delayed by between twenty and thirty minutes. Our people are working on reducing that time lag, but it means we may have to follow the route the boats have taken rather than go directly toward their current position. Last position we have is just over thirty kilometers northwest of here. We should get there in forty minutes.”

The pair of large inflatables traveled at high speed over the dark water. To their right, Jackson could see the lights of several large ships. To their left occasional small clusters of lights and single lights, he thought must be villages onshore or small boats on the water.

Jackson checked the action on the grenade launcher for the third time, then checked his supply of grenades in the waterproof bag at his feet. He wanted to speak to Joe and ask whether he had been on a combat mission before and to reassure him that once things start happening, your training kicks in and you do what you need to do. But with his damaged hearing and the wind whipping past at fifty kilometers an hour, the only way to talk to him would be over the radio headset they were all wearing and that would mean all the SEALs would hear.

Jackson heard the Lieutenant's voice. “Information is coming through on a terrorist hijacking twelve kilometers north of our target location. Explosions reported and the ship may be sinking.”

The Lieutenant paused for a considerable period obviously listening to his radio, before continuing.

“The situation is confused but initial reports don't indicate suicide bombers were involved. Our people think this may be a decoy to attract attention away from a more serious terrorist incident still to occur. Our mission is unchanged. However, we are to withdraw immediately, if Indonesian or Malaysian police or naval vessels approach us. They may be in a shoot first and ask questions later frame of mind.

The Lieutenant then said, “I have a new position for the target boat nine kilometers northeast of our current location, a significant distance from the terrorist hijacking, and it seems they couldn't have been involved. We are changing direction to the new position. ETA in ten minutes. Everyone assume combat positions. Ready to fire on my command.”

Jackson checked the action on the grenade launcher one more time and then the grenades he had ready for immediate use in a pocket in his vest. One of the SEALs at the front of the other boat had a larger version of the directional microphone Jackson had used to listen into several of Charles Corrigan's conversations.

He heard a man he assumed was the operator of the directional microphone say, “I'm picking up gunfire ahead in the direction of that large ship with the four domes, automatic as well as small caliber single shots.”

The Lieutenant asked, “Sergeant Jackson, do you know what kind of ship that is?”

Jackson remembered Dr. Kunderan describing it as he listened into his conversation with Charles. “It's a Liquefied Natural Gas Carrier, and traveling eastbound, it will be fully laden.”

“Is the liquefied gas explosive, if released and ignited?”

“No, Lieutenant. It's flammable, but I have been told it's not explosive.”

The Lieutenant said, “It appears there is a hijacking in progress, and unless we get evidence to the contrary, I'll assume the suicide bombers we are pursuing intend to board that vessel. We will head directly toward the ship at top speed and we may be able to prevent the hijacking occurring. We may receive new orders when the situation ahead is clearer. Until then, be prepared on my command, to sink any small boat we find in the vicinity of the large vessel directly ahead, with the letters L N G along its side.”

The two inflatables sped across the water toward the four-domed ship. As they got closer, the vessel loomed larger.

The Lieutenant said, “We will circle the ship at a distance of fifteen hundred meters to get a fuller picture what is happening. Up ahead, all I can see is one wooden boat tied up to the side of the ship, with a single man on board, presumably the rest have already boarded the vessel and we were too late to prevent them.

“We also need to confirm whether the second reported boat is here or not. If it isn't that would indicate a third hijacking has yet to occur.”

It took the SEAL's inflatables several minutes to circle around the LNG carrier and reach a position where the far side of the ship was in view. When it was, they could see a second boat beside the ship, directly below a rope ladder that trailed down from the deck. They could see two men climbing the ladder. Three men remained in the wooden boat.

“Sergeant Jackson, can you confirm those men climbing the ladder and in the boat are the suicide bombers from the island?”

Jackson struggled to keep his binoculars focused on the men climbing and in the boat, as the inflatable bounced over the waves. After a delay he said, “Yes Lieutenant, they are the men wearing bomb vests from the island, two climbing the ladder and one still in the boat”

Jackson expected the Lieutenant to order an immediate attack to prevent the remaining suicide bombers from boarding the LNG carrier. Jackson thought the Lieutenant's orders were clear. He was surprised to hear him say, “Everyone standby, while I see if we have any further orders.”

Navy SEALs had a reputation in the Special Forces community for caution, sometimes excessive caution. If Jackson had the same orders as the Lieutenant, he would head at top speed toward the suicide bombers, still boarding the ship and in the small boat, and kill as many as possible before they got on board the ship, where they would be much harder to deal with.

After a considerable delay, during which the two suicide bombers climbing the ladder made it onto the ship and the last one climbed more than halfway up the ladder, the Lieutenant said, “Listen up men. It was clear when we arrived that most of the hijackers had boarded the ship and we were too late to stop them. We now have new orders. We are to attempt a covert boarding of the LNG carrier and take control of the ship. Our command center believes the first hijacking was a deliberate distraction to lure any police and naval vessels away from this ship. They also believe this hijacking represents a more serious, but currently unquantified threat. I'm waiting to hear more about what impact our weapons will have on the liquefied gas containment equipment and what specific risks we need to be aware of.”

One of the SEALs said, “Sir, the hijackers have boats on both sides of the vessel. Where are we going to attempt a covert boarding?”

“We will have to wait until one or both of those boats leave. If they don't, then I'll reassess the situation. Until then, we keep watch from far enough away we won't attract their attention.”

Chapter 35

Chapter 33

2006-04-06T23:40:00.000-07:00

Indonesia, Straits of Malacca
November 12, 2006, 23:30 local time

Boat 2 turned directly across the Strait toward the LNG carrier. Boat 3 followed close behind.

Their target was now two kilometers away. Both boats accelerated and rapidly gained on the slow-moving ship. They approached from astern of the big white ship. The two boats positioned themselves on either side of the LNG carrier's wake. Boat 2 accelerated alongside the ship, while Boat 3 stayed back. As his boat came level with the ship about two thirds of the way down its length, Ajmal searched the ship's deck for any indication someone on board had spotted them. He couldn't see anyone, but that didn't mean the crew weren't alert and ready to repel boarders.

Ajmal spoke into his radio. “Boat 3, are you ready?”

Saiful replied, “We are ready.”

“Can you see any activity on deck?”

“No sign of anyone on this side of the ship.”

Ajmal turned to the helmsman, pointed to the big ship and said, “Go.”

The small boat swung toward the looming bulk of the LNG carrier and came within a few meters of its side.

Ajmal knew that if the big ship was traveling at its normal cruising speed, the ship's wake would push away a small boat and stop it getting this close, but the ship’s slow speed in the Strait kept the size of the wake down.

Two men threw grappling lines over the railings almost ten meters above them, both hooked on the railings. Immediately, a loud siren started to wail and bright lights came on along the ship's deck.

As four men climbed the knotted ropes, Ajmal wished he could see what was happening on the deck above him.

Malik had warned them there might be armed guards on board, but assured them, the guards would only fire warning shots and then only away from the ship itself. They wouldn't risk firing at anyone on deck.

Two men from his boat made it over the ship's railings and two more men began to climb. Ajmal heard a shot fired. The next two men went over the railings and disappeared from Ajmal's view, as the siren continued to wail.

The net and its bulky contents began to slowly rise from the bottom of the boat. As Ajmal steadied the net, he heard a short burst from an automatic weapon, followed by a second burst from the same weapon. He hoped it was Muhammad trying to distract the armed guards.

The net reached the railing and two pairs of arms pulled it over. The net and its contents disappeared from view. Ajmal silently prayed his men would get the contents fixed to the right place on the ship before the crew stopped them.

It was his turn to climb the rope. He slung the megaphone around his neck and began to climb from one thick knot to the next. Before he reached the railing, he heard two more rifle shots, then another shot from what sounded like a pistol. One of his men must be firing to keep the crew back.

He pulled himself over the railing and ran for the nearest cover on the ship's infrastructure.

Panting from the exertion, he put the megaphone to his mouth and began speaking the carefully memorized English words.

“We have placed a powerful explosive against the side of the liquefied gas containment vessel. You have two minutes to surrender the ship or we will detonate the explosives. You can send one unarmed man to verify the explosives are in place. You have two minutes to comply.”

Ajmal repeated the instructions, then looked at his watch, measuring the two minutes.

Ninety seconds later he heard over the ship's address system, “We are sending a man as you ordered. He is not armed. Do not shoot. He is not armed. Do not shoot.”

A man came into view as the address system repeated the previous message. Ajmal could see the man's hesitation in the harsh glare of the ship’s lights.

Ajmal said through the megaphone, “Come forward with your hands on your head.”

The man immediately complied. When he came level, Ajmal grabbed him by the arm and pulled him out of sight of anyone watching further down the deck. Ajmal then led him around the side of the central, pressurized vessel to where his men should have attached the explosives.

Ajmal saw the large block of soft brown material had been wrapped around a huge metal valve. Wires trailed down to metal box. It looked like the right place according to the diagrams Malik had shown him.

He said to the man he was still holding by the arm, “See.”

The man cowered, clearly very afraid of the masked and armed men around him.

He replied in English. “I see. I see.”

“That is explosives. I have the detonator in my hand.”

“Tell your Captain to surrender the ship.”

He gave the megaphone to the man, who started speaking in a language Ajmal didn't understand.

“In English.”

“They have bomb. Very big bomb. We must surrender.”

“Again.”

The man repeated the words.

Ajmal then took the megaphone and said, “All crew must come out now, and throw their weapons down.”

He was about to repeat his demand, when a man appeared from the bridge on the superstructure above him, others followed with their hands in the air.

The man called out, “We surrender. The crew are ordered to surrender.”

Ajmal took out his radio, pressed transmit and said, “Boat 1, We have control of the ship.”

He heard Malik's voice in response say' “Boat 3, continue with the plan.”

Saiful in Boat 3, saw one of Ajmal's men throw a rope ladder over the side of the LNG carrier, at the same time he heard Malik's voice on the radio. He acknowledged Malik's message then turned the throttle and steered the small boat toward the ladder. He needed to get the strangers on board the ship as quickly as possible.

Their boat approached the ladder hanging down the side of the ship, and Muhammad grabbed it. The first of the Malaysian's men took hold of one of rungs and stepped onto the ladder. He began to climb tentatively. Saiful knew it was going to take some time to get the men on board. He debated pulling the man already on the ladder back and climbing first in order to show them how easy it was. He could then help them when they got to the top, but Malik had repeatedly stressed they needed to keep to the plan, and the plan said he stayed at the helm of the boat. Saiful watched the man slowly climb the ladder.

Saiful wondered about the plan. He knew Malik had obtained it from someone else, but he didn't know who and Malik had never told him. Ajmal had said it didn't make sense for the Malaysian's men to board on the opposite side of the ship from the boat that carried Ajmal's team. They should board the ship next to the Ajmal's boat and then if there were problems, the helmsman on Ajmal's boat could help.

Malik responded sharply, as he always did when someone questioned the plan, and said, “That is the plan.”

Saiful and Ajmal had talked about it afterwards, and both thought there were aspects to the plan that Malik didn't understand and religiously kept to, precisely because he didn't understand why the plan said to do things a certain way.

Chapter 34

Chapter 32

2006-04-06T23:37:00.000-07:00

Indonesia, Straits of Malacca, Thirty Kilometers Northwest of Palau Nua Island
November 12, 2006, 23:00 local time

The small boat approached the fully laden supertanker traveling in the eastbound channel. The ship loomed long and massive ahead of them.

Malik felt his adrenaline pumping, as their boat came in behind the ship and then accelerated alongside. They threw ropes with grappling hooks over the railings. The huge ship was low enough in the water that the men in the small boat only needed to climb a short distance up the ropes to reach the deck and climb on board. Malik watched the first four men go over the top of the railings.

Malik pulled the black knitted balaclava hood over his head and adjusted it so he could see out of the eyeholes. He picked up the automatic rifle, slung it over his shoulder and began to climb one of the ropes, alongside the next three men to board.

Seconds later Malik was over the railing, the automatic weapon in one hand. He ran with the other seven men down the long deck of the ship toward the superstructure at the rear. Only the helmsman remained on board their boat.

All of the men had been on at least one of the earlier boardings and knew the routine. Three men stayed behind on the deck to deal with the crew when they came out, while the other four followed Malik up the steps to the bridge. When all five reached the top, one of the men slid open the heavy door and Malik, followed by the other four men, charged onto the bridge.

The four men on the bridge reacted with shock and fear at the sudden appearance of five masked and armed men.

Malik pointed the AK47 at the men on the bridge and said, “Gather all the crew on the deck.”

There was no response from any of the four men. Malik repeated his demand and added, “If you do not broadcast to the crew they must assemble on the deck immediately, I will shoot you.”

The man Malik thought was the ship's Captain said to the man beside him, “Do what he demands. Tell the crew they are to muster on the deck immediately. Tell them, this is not a drill.”

The man responded, “Yes, Captain,” then reluctantly turned to the console behind him and picked up a microphone. “All crew assemble on deck immediately. All crew assemble on deck immediately. This is not a drill.”

Malik addressed the Captain. “Where is the radio room?”

“It's this way. I'll show you.”

Before leaving, Malik turned to the other two men and said, “Search them.”

The Captain moved slowly and Malik thought he was deliberately delaying. He jabbed the AK47 into his side and said, “Faster.”

The Captain led Malik, and the two men who followed him, through the door at the back of the bridge and into a passageway. Malik again jabbed the gun into the Captain's back to hurry him along.

The Captain pointed to a doorway just ahead. Malik stepped forward and looked in. As he suspected, someone was using the radio to transmit a message. Malik pointed into the room and the two men behind him ran in. He watched one of them pull the microphone out of the crewman's hand, then point his revolver at him. The other man started disabling the communications equipment.

Malik turned to the Captain and said, “Money, guns.”

Malik wanted them to think this was a normal piracy boarding that would be over in a few minutes if they cooperated. Besides, these ships always had the equivalent of several thousand US dollars in their safe.

“I have both in my cabin. Come with me.”

After his last experience he was careful to keep the Captain in sight at all times and less than five minutes later he was back from the Captain's cabin with two automatic pistols and a wad of currency.

Malik barked at the Captain and the others on the bridge “I want all of you outside, with the rest of the crew.”

He could see the alarm on their faces as they thought, this is not how a piracy incident is supposed to proceed. Once the pirates had the money and valuables, they should leave the ship immediately to minimize their chances of being caught. This was starting to look more like a hijacking and hostage taking.

“The Captain said, “Someone needs to stay on the bridge to monitor the radar, sonar and other instruments, and the steering needs to be adjusted on a regular basis.”

In reply, Malik raised his AK47 and pointed it at the Captain.

Malik's men pushed the three other crewmen toward the door of the bridge and out onto the steps, as Malik forced the Captain forward at gunpoint. The Captain continued protesting that someone had to remain on the bridge.

Halfway down the steps to the deck, Malik grabbed the Captain's arm and held him back, while the others continued down to the deck.

Malik said to him, “Tell the crew to evacuate the ship.”

“I cannot do that. Without a crew and someone to steer the ship, it will drift off course and run aground.”

Malik grabbed the man who had stopped beside the Captain and put the weapon's muzzle to his head.

“If you don't tell them, I will shoot the crew starting with this man.”

“I still cannot do what you ask.”

Malik had to keep things happening quickly.

“Then one man can stay on board to steer, as long as you order the rest of the crew to evacuate the ship.”

The Captain responded immediately. “I will stay.”

The Captain addressed the ship's crew assembled below him, surrounded by the black-hooded pirates. “I order you all to evacuate the ship immediately. Make your way to your assigned lifeboats. I will be staying on the ship. Please cooperate with these men and no one will come to harm.”

There were cries of protest and disbelief, as Malik's men started to push them toward where the lifeboats hung over the deck, waiting to be launched. Malik noticed several tall blond haired men were moving as a group and he thought they might be about to attack his men.

Malik fired a burst into the air. The men below stopped moving and looked up at him on the stairs to the bridge.

“If anyone resists or attacks my men, I will open fire on the crew.”

The blond haired men got the message and continued moving toward the lifeboats

The Captain watched his crew start to launch the lifeboats, then said, “I need to go back to the bridge.”

Malik told one of his men to accompany the Captain back to the bridge, with the caution, “Make sure he doesn't use the ship's radio to contact the authorities.”

Malik felt precious time was slipping away. Everything was taking too long. He looked at watch, then took out his GPS. He waited anxiously for the green light to come on showing it had found the satellites.

After he had checked their position, Malik ran down the deck to where their small boat was still tied to the side of the giant tanker and called down, “I need the bag now.”

The helmsman threw a rope over the railings and Malik hauled up the heavy canvas bag.

The instructions he had received, warned against storing detonators with explosives and avoiding electrical sparks, including lightning. Malik had ignored these warnings and put the soft brown blocks of explosive, detonators and remote electrical firing boxes together in the one bag.

Malik took the page with the annotated diagram from his pocket and unfolded it. He tried to orient the diagram to the ship's deck stretching away on either side of him.

To his right, there was what looked like the entrance to a stairway that would give access to the ship's interior. Malik hefted the heavy bag onto his shoulder and hurried toward the covered entry.

He could see a steep stairway that went down into the ship's interior. He cautiously made his way down the stairway to the next level and looked around. The passageway at the bottom of the stairs terminated in a steel wall that looked similar to the diagram he held in his hand. Malik knew he was looking for a bulkhead that ran between the inner and outer hulls of the dual-hulled vessel.

Malik carefully lowered the heavy canvas bag to the steel floor, opened it and took out one of the blocks of explosive. He wedged the soft explosives into the corner where the bulkhead met the floor. He took out a second block and wedged it alongside the first. He then took out one of the detonators and pushed it deep inside the explosives.

He took one of the electrical firing boxes out of the bag. It had a spool of wire attached to it. Malik began to unwind the wire then plugged the end of the wire into the detonator. He picked up the canvas bag, now considerably lighter, and continued unwinding the wire as he made his way back up the stairs. He moved slowly concerned he might pull the detonator out of the explosives or even lose his balance on the steep stairway.

When he eventually made it to the top of the stairs, he taped the firing box to the outside of the entry to the stairwell. Malik again looked at his watch and took out his GPS.

One of his men came running down the deck toward him. “All the crew have left in the lifeboats. What are we waiting for?”

Malik didn't respond, still intent on the slowly changing numbers on the GPS unit. This was taking far longer than he planned.

Malik turned to the man and said, “Put a life jacket on the Captain and send him over the side. If he won't cooperate, threaten to shoot him. If that doesn't work, knock him unconscious and throw him overboard.”

Malik picked up the bag and ran up the deck in the direction of the bow of the ship. He was looking for another stairway down into the ship.

A hundred meters down the long deck, he found what he was looking for, another steep almost vertical stairway leading down into the ship. At the bottom of the stairs, he placed the explosives and detonator against another bulkhead. He took out the second of the electrical firing boxes and plugged the wire into the detonator. He climbed back up the stairway and emerged from the stairway back onto the deck, then attached the electrical firing box to the outside of the stairway entry as before.

Malik ran back down the deck toward where their small boat was still tied to the side of the huge oil tanker.

He dropped the empty canvas bag into the boat and vaulted over the rail, grabbing one of the ropes. He slid down the rope, landing awkwardly on the bottom of the boat.

He saw that all his men were in the boat and shouted, “Move four hundred meters away from the ship. Go.”

As the small boat accelerated away from the massive ship, Malik saw that it was already starting to leave the eastbound channel and veer across toward the westbound channel. When their boat was moving parallel to the ship and at the same speed, Malik checked his GPS. They were already past the location the instructions told him to detonate the explosives.

He put the GPS unit back into his pocket and took out one of the bulky radio transmitters from his bag. According to the instructions, it would send a coded sequence to remotely detonate the explosives. He inserted the key attached to the transmitter by a chain, and turned it. A red light came on. He didn't hesitate and pressed down on the button.

An orange ball expanded out of the side of the ship as a huge explosion blew a substantial hole in the side of the ship. The pressure wave hit them and he saw debris splash into the water. Everyone on board the small boat was silent at the size of the explosion. Then oil, glistening in the moonlight, began to flow out of the side of the vessel.

Malik took out the second radio transmitter, inserted the attached key and turned it, then pressed the button. A second explosion blossomed out of the side of the ship creating another hole in the side of the ship, this time, partially below the waterline.

The two explosions initially had no noticeable effect on the huge ship. Malik then thought he detected a slight list toward the side where the explosions had occurred.

He couldn't afford any more time. He needed to contact the other boats, then get as away as fast as possible.

Malik pointed south and said to his boat's helmsman, "Go."

The helmsman turned the throttle and the small boat accelerated down the Strait, leaving the drifting, sinking ship behind.

Malik picked up his radio. “Boat 2, Boat 3, proceed with the next stage of the plan. First stage executed successfully. I repeat, proceed with the next stage. Acknowledge.”

Ajmal and Saiful acknowledged almost immediately.

Malik didn't know if their hijacking of the supertanker would result in other ships in the Strait being alerted to the possibility of a hijacking. The radio operator might have had time to send a mayday transmission. He waited nervously for news on the boarding as their boat motored south toward the other two boats.

He had been through the instructions, for boarding the LNG carrier, dozens of times with the men on the other two boats. But, none of them had ever boarded a ship of this type before. So they all had to trust the instructions they had been given would work.

Malik was especially concerned about the warning of armed guards on some LNG carriers. This was the main reason he decided against a trial boarding of a LNG carrier. If the armed guards on board killed or seriously injured one of them, it would be difficult to persuade the men to attempt another hijacking even for the money he was offering them.

Malik thought back to the automatic weapons that came in one of the crates. He had deliberated over how many of them to issue to his men. Only Muhammad had any experience of handling an automatic weapon, and Malik suspected less experience than he claimed. TNI didn't waste money letting ordinary recruits fire off a lot of rounds.

In the end, he gave one of the weapons to Muhammad, with strict instructions to use it only if someone fired at them. He was still afraid Muhammad would end up shooting one of their own men.

He had a second AK47 lying in the boat beside him. The other four he had left in the crate on the island with the hidden cove. His deal with the Malaysian included providing his men with weapons. He noticed when Saiful arrived that the Malaysian's men had at least two of the automatic weapons with them.

Chapter 33

Chapter 31

2006-04-06T23:24:00.000-07:00

Indonesia, A Small Uninhabited Island in the Riau Archipelago
November 12, 2006, 22:00 local time

On his way back to Joe's position, Jackson clearly heard the vaguely animal sound for the second time. He fell back on his training and took care to move deliberately in the almost pitch-black forest, feeling for each step to make sure he didn't fall or make a noise.

Jackson saw the water of the cove in the faint light cast by the lamp down on the beach, before he saw the figure beckoning him.

When he got close, Joe whispered, “A boat arrived with two men, seven or eight minutes ago. I think the people here are getting ready to leave.”

Jackson edged forward and looked down on the beach. The boat was still in the water close to the center of the beach. One man was sitting at the rear of the boat. A second man was on the beach talking to the man who made the bomb vests. Jackson recognized him as one of the three men who had brought the group to the island. The other seven men were kneeling with their heads on the ground and appeared to be praying. The sound of murmured chants seemed to confirm his assessment.

Jackson stepped back to stand beside Joe, with a sense of relief that perhaps they might avoid a disastrous snatch operation.

“I'm going to wait until we are sure they are leaving, then inform Rick.”

“You're the boss, Sarge.”

“Can you hear what the bomb maker and the other man are saying?”

“Maybe, if I was right at the edge.”

Both men crawled forward to where they could see down onto the beach. The prayers had ended, and the men were taking turns shaking the bomb-vest maker's hand. They then began to wade into the water. The man who had been talking to the bomb maker helped them into the wooden boat. He stood in the water holding the boat steady and was the last to board. The man at the helm used a small paddle to propel the boat backwards and then turn it around so that it faced the narrow gap out to the ocean.

Less than a minute later, the boat disappeared into the gap between the rocks.

The bomb maker stood on the beach watching the boat leave.

Both men pulled back from the edge and Jackson asked, “Hear anything of significance.”

“They were just saying goodbye to the man left behind and thanking him. They sounded weirdly ordinary, like they did this on a regular basis.”

Jackson whispered, “I going to update Rick and talk to the collection team. Just keep watching that ladder.”

“Will do, Sarge.”

Once again, Jackson made his way back into the dark, wet forest. When he was far enough away, he took out his radio, switched it on and called Rick.

“A boat came and picked up the men. They have left one man behind. All the men who left were wearing bomb vests.”

Rick responded, “You say, one man is left on the island?”

“Yes, the man who made the bomb vests.”

“I'll speak to head office and get back to you.”

Several minutes later, Rick's voice over the radio said, “I have been ordered to shadow the boat as it leaves the island to get a bearing on its direction of travel. I'll need to follow them in the Zodiac. I should be back on board the cruiser in less than an hour.”

Jackson asked, “Are the SEALs going to stop the men who left?”

“Not immediately. The important target is the bomb maker left behind on the island. The suicide bombers will be tracked and dealt with when we have the bomb maker in custody.”

Jackson asked, “Do you have new orders for us, or an update on the collection?”

“You are ordered to remain where you are, keep observing and report any significant developments through me when I return to the cruiser. The collection will go ahead without you briefing the team leader. Head office has concluded they now have sufficient information and one man shouldn't present difficulties for the collection team. The collection team's ETA remains the same.”

It sounded to Jackson like the CIA was taking too much for granted.

He made his way back to Joe's position. Again, Joe saw him before he found Joe. Joe waved his arm to get Jackson's attention in the near total darkness.

Joe asked, “What are our orders?”

“Keep doing what we are doing. No change.”

“What about the boat with the suicide bombers?”

“Rick will follow it, to establish its direction, then return to the cruiser. I assume the boat will then be tracked by some other means.”

Joe whispered, “Man, I found those guys spooky. Reminded me of the stories my grandpa told about the North Vietnamese Army. Said, they just kept coming like they wanted to die.”

Jackson asked, “Anything happen here?”

“The guy buried some stuff on the beach, with wires attached. He also ran some wires parallel to the water. I think he was placing booby traps on the beach.”

Jackson experienced a sinking feeling that things were about to go badly wrong and good men would die tonight.

Jackson said, “Point them out to me.”

Joe pointed to the locations and Jackson inspected them with his night vision. A hole had been dug and then covered with sand directly behind each of the piles of rocks. A pair of wires ran from both locations back to the shelter. He couldn't see the wires Joe said had been laid parallel to the water, but that didn't mean they weren't there.

“Did you see what he put in the holes?”

“He brought two plastic wrapped bundles down and buried each in a separate hole. The wires were already attached.”

The plastic would be to keep the detonator and wiring dry in the wet sand. Jackson was as sure as he could be, without physically inspecting what was buried in those holes, that they were improvised mines, probably booby-trapped. The explosives would blast the rocks across the cove as shrapnel-like fragments.

This new information needed to be communicated back to mission control in Singapore and the SEALs, but Rick was in the Zodiac following the suicide bomber's boat and unable to forward his report to Singapore.

Jackson asked, “Anything else?”

Joe replied, “Just what you can see. The guy is sitting on the beach, like he is waiting for something to happen. Got an automatic weapon with him though.”

Jackson said, “If we don't take him out and disable those explosives, the SEALs are going to come in and get blown to hell. And those who survive the explosions will find themselves shot in the water where they can't use their weapons.”

“We should shoot him from here first,” Joe responded.

“How good a shot are you with a pistol at twenty five, more like thirty meters?”

“Not bad.”

“How confident are you of taking him out with one shot at this distance? Because one shot is probably all you'll get before he opens up with that AK47.”

Joe hesitated before answering, “At least 50 percent, maybe 70 percent.”

“Not good enough, Corporal.”

Joe responded in a still whispered voice, “If I take a shot, then we both open up, our chances of getting him are high, and if he blows his booby traps we are safe up here. So what have we got to lose?”

Their debate was cut short when the man below them, picked up the automatic weapon, and moved into the larger of the two shelters where he was out of their view.

Jackson came to a decision. “We are going down there to take him out before the SEALs arrive.”

“What about our orders, Sarge?”

“I'm the unit commander and I am out of contact with the chain of command, which makes me autonomous. We are going down, and either detain him or take him out at close quarters, where we are sure of a kill. Then we disable the booby traps. I know some about bomb disposal.

“Try to decide on a good place to climb down that is out of his view, while I go get the climbing ropes. Where did you leave them, Corporal?”

“Just over there, Sergeant.”

Moving slowly in the dark, it took Jackson several minutes to find the climbing rope.

When he returned, he asked, “Any change?”

“No change. He could be asleep in that shelter for all we know.”

“Where do you think is the best place to climb down?”

“You sure, we can't use the ladder, Sarge?”

Jackson replied, “It makes noises when someone is on it.”

“OK, then the far side of the beach. It’s furthest from the shelter and the bottom is in shadow. You won't be seen after you make it down to the beach.”

Joe didn't need to state the obvious that he would be clearly visible on the way down.

Jackson said, “I'll climb, while you feed the rope and cover me from above. If we are detected, we do a fast belay, otherwise we aim for stealth and aim to catch the guy by surprise.”

“What if those explosives are booby-trapped?”

“I'm coming in behind the beach. I shouldn't trigger any booby-trap he's set.”

Joe said, “Give me the rope, Sarge. I'll lead the way.”

Both men worked their way through the forest toward the far side of the cove. It had become noticeably lighter and Jackson had no difficulty seeing Joe ahead of him. He looked into the sky and could see the moon had risen, bathing everything in a pale light.

When they reached the spot Joe had selected, both men cautiously peered over the edge. The lamp on the beach gave out enough light that most of the rock face was visible.

Joe whispered, “It looks sheer all the way to the bottom. Although it’s hard to tell lower down because the rock face is in shadow.”

Jackson looked at his watch. The SEALs should be in the area by now. he hoped they were waiting for Rick to return to his cruiser before proceeding.

He judged the moon would soon be high enough to shine down on the water in the cove and make any disturbance of the water clearly visible. The SEALs would know this and consequently they would want to get their operation underway before the moon rose much further. Perhaps with Rick not there they would decide to go ahead and stumble into the booby traps. Frogmen might already be swimming in the black water below him.

Once again he cursed the CIA for their lack of planning, as the need for urgency, weighed against his training and natural caution.

Jackson said quietly, “I'll climb down five or six meters. Far enough to get some rope I can swing out on, then I'll push off the rock and belay the rest of the way. Just be ready to take my weight when I do, I don't want to go crashing into the ground.”

“I've done this before. You'll be OK with me on the rope, Sarge.”

Jackson had one last decision to make. What to do with the radio. Leave it on and Rick might call in the middle of the descent and alert the bomb maker. Turn it off, and with Rick unable to contact him, the SEALs may decide to go ahead their operation.

He would have to leave the radio turned off. It just made too much noise and silence was essential if they were to surprise the bomb maker.

Joe asked, “What happens if he sees or hears you?”

“Once he is alerted to our presence, there is no further need for stealth. Just shout 'Sarge' to warn me. I'll go to ground and we shoot it out. At least the sound of gunfire will alert the SEALs and they will come in prepared for trouble.”

“OK, got it.”

“Give me a drink of water before I go.”

Jackson drank deeply, while Joe looped a length of rope around the trunk of a tree, measured the distance to the edge of the rocks, before tying the rope to his climbing harness. This would allow him to lean out as he fed the rope attached to Jackson, and be ready to take his weight when he belayed.

Joe said, “Ready when you are,” and handed Jackson the end of the rope.

Jackson took care in tying the knot to his harness, because in the dim moonlight, his partner couldn't visually check it. He pulled the rope and it seemed secure.

Jackson said more loudly than he intended, “OK, ready.”

Jackson stepped to the edge and found his first handhold, then lowered his body over the edge searching with his feet for a foothold. He found one and then brought one hand down searching for the next handhold. He had found four hand and footholds on his way down, and was searching for a new foothold, when his other foothold gave way. A large piece of rock must have dislodged, because it made a loud crack as it hit the rock face on the way down. The sound seemed abnormally loud as it echoed back from the rock walls of the natural amphitheater that ringed the cove.

Jackson stopped climbing and turned his head to see what was happening below him. He saw the bomb maker exit the shelter with the AK47 in his hands. The man looked around at the rock walls, stopping when his gaze reached Jackson's position. The bomb maker had seen him.

Jackson shouted, “Go. Go.”

He pushed himself away from the rock face with his hands, but didn't have a sufficient length of rope above him to get a swing, and he felt himself only drop a short distance. He immediately swung back in and hit the rock face. He pushed himself off again, feeling more of a swing and a longer drop, all the time waiting for the sound of the automatic weapon firing and bullets crashing into the rocks around him. All he heard was Joe's pistol firing.

He hit the rock face again. The third time he pushed off the rock, he felt himself swing much further out, then fall for perhaps two seconds before Joe braked the rope and he hit the ground. He immediately dropped flat and shouted up to Joe, “I'm down,” before releasing the rope from the carabiner by spinning the locking nut and opening the gate.

Jackson briefly wondered why there was no return fire from the AK47, before the concussion hit and he felt the heat from the blast wash over him. He saw pieces of debris hit the rock face above him and fall toward the ground, as far as he could tell none had hit him.

Jackson lay there dazed and not moving for several seconds, before checking if he had been injured. He knew his hearing would be gone for days, and perhaps permanently damaged by being so close to a large explosion, but otherwise he seemed unhurt. Looking up, he could see Joe fast belaying down, so he was unhurt.

Joe hit the ground and Jackson saw him talking but could only hear faint indistinguishable sounds.

Jackson tried to get up and found his balance was impaired, as well as his hearing. He got to his feet with Joe's help and looked around at the scene of devastation on the beach. The explosion had reduced both shelters to broken stumps, their tops and contents completely gone. Pieces of rock, blackened bamboo, and other debris, littered the beach. There were two large holes in the sand a few meters above the waterline.

He tried to ask Joe what happened to the bomber, but his voice sounded faint and distant.

Joe leaned over and spoke into his ear and Jackson was surprised he could make out the words.

“When I first saw the bomb maker leave the shelter, I drew my pistol and opened fire. I thought if I didn't hit him, at least I'd make him keep his head down until you were on the ground. Then I saw him pick up a box with wires attached. As soon as you hit the ground, I immediately got down and covered my ears, so I was in a protected position when the two explosions occurred. Guess you are pretty deaf though?”

Jackson nodded in response.

Jackson saw that Joe was watching something behind him. He turned to see two divers approaching them from out of the water. Both were pointing their weapons at him. A red glow from a fire burning near the center of the small beach illuminated the pair. He could see four more black-clad divers swimming toward them on the surface of the water.

Jackson said, “Best drop the pistol and raise our hands. I'd prefer not to get shot, especially by the Navy. My Army career won't last long enough to live it down.”

Jackson shouted to the SEALs, “Sergeant Jackson and Corporal Bao, US Army.”

The lead man pulled away his facemask and said, “What the hell happened, Sergeant?”

Jackson heard him through the ringing in his ears and replied, “The bomb maker booby-trapped the beach and we though we should do something about it, before you guys arrived doing your monster from the black lagoon routine.”

Chapter 32

Chapter 30

2006-04-06T23:02:00.000-07:00

Indonesia, Straits of Malacca, Three Kilometers from Palau Nua Island
November 12, 2006, 22:00 local time

Less than an hour later, Malik saw what he was waiting for in the distance.

A patch of moonlight illuminated the distinctive four-domed shape of a Liquefied Natural Gas Carrier. The moonlight reflected off the ship's white spheres containing many millions of cubic meters of cold, liquefied and pressurized gas.

Malik turned to the helmsman of his boat and said, “Start the engine.”

The sound of his boat's engine starting was the signal for the other two boats to do the same.

He thumbed the radio's Transmit button and said, “Boats 2 and 3, prepare to go.”

Malik said to the helmsman behind him, “We go now.”

The boat's diesel engine gave a throaty roar and the boat moved forward through the water. The other two boats followed. All three boats held to a course, parallel to the shore, on the southern side of the Strait, well away from the main shipping channel toward the middle of the Strait. This was normal practice for small boats traveling up or down the Strait and would not attract attention. They passed other small boats on a regular basis. Even at night, these waters were busy.

The three boats came level with the LNG carrier, moving slowly in the opposite direction. Boats 2 and 3 peeled off to the left, slowed and began to shadow the massive ship, five kilometers away in the eastbound shipping channel. Malik in Boat 1, continued down the Strait. He now had to find his target.

An hour later, Malik's boat traveling at speed over the moonlit ocean, had passed eleven eastbound ships. None of them was what he was looking for.

They had also passed two ships of the right type going westbound, in the same direction as them, but these ships were empty and the plan required a fully laden ship.

Malik thought, two minutes more, one more ship, and then I will have to abort. The radios in the other two boats must be almost out of transmission range by now.

He caught sight of a ship in the eastbound shipping channel ahead of him. As he got closer, he could see it was just another container ship.

“Boat 2, Boat 3 can you hear me?”

The reply came through accompanied by static.

“I hear you, but a lot of noise and . . . ”

The fading out meant he had gone beyond the range the radios imposed on a coordinated operation.

“Boat 2, Boat 3, We go back to the start point. Do you hear me?”

“I hear you. We will return to the start point.”

Only Saiful had responded to his transmission, but the Ajmal would see what Saiful's boat did and follow him.

Malik's boat turned around and headed back down the Strait. More than forty kilometers away, the other two boats also turned around and retraced their path.

The Liquefied Natural Gas Carriers came through at more-or-less regular intervals, about two hours apart. They would wait for the next one.

***

The three boats found each other at their original start point. The helmsmen shutdown their engines and the men relaxed for a while. Some took out food, rice, cooked fish, or sticks of barbecued meat. Others drank from plastic bottles. The seven men wearing the bomb vests sat quietly. Malik hadn't seen their demeanor change since he encountered them on the wooden dock.

Malik kept a close eye out for approaching boats and the skies for approaching storms, all the while, checking the slow procession of ships through his binoculars.

Waiting for the right ship to come down the Strait, Malik was again drawn back to his experiences in Aceh and afterwards, and how they had brought him to this time and place.

Almost a year ago, as Malik was leaving his home in Medan, a stranger handed him an envelope. The man turned and walked away before Malik could ask him what it was about. He opened the envelope and inside was a letter. It began by praising Malik's reputation for resourcefulness in getting difficult jobs done. It went on to request that he arrange transport for two men from Malaysia to Sumatra. It finished with an offer to arrange a meeting with his commander from GAM who would vouch for the person the author would send as a representative. The letter was unsigned. Malik thought it was a hoax, or worse a scheme to entrap him.

His desire to increase his smuggling business overcame his reservations about the letter's authenticity, and he contacted his old commander. It wasn't until he attended the meeting with his commander that he found the representative was the same man who had given him the letter. He also discovered the man represented the 'Malaysian'.

Everyone in the Free Aceh Movement knew of the Malaysian, the head of Jemaah Islamiyah, even though his organization would have nothing to do with the Aceh struggle considering it a mere independence movement. Jemaah Islamiyah's aims were much broader, to set up a single Islamic state encompassing all the Muslim countries and regions of South East Asia.

It was only after he had done several jobs smuggling people for the Malaysian that he began to see how Jemaah Islamiyah might play a role in the mysterious Chinese man's plan. Up until that point, he had taken Wang's payments for the acts of piracy, and intended to simply ignore the order to do the full operation, assuming the order ever came. He very much doubted Wang had the resources to track him down and exact any kind of retribution for swindling him.

***

Through his binoculars, Malik could see the distinctive four white domes of a Liquefied Natural Gas Carrier in the distance. It was coming toward them in the eastbound shipping lane and therefore fully laden.

Even though the other two boats were less than twenty meters away, he used his radio to say, “Boats 2 and 3 get ready to go.”

A couple of minutes later, he told the helmsman of his boat to start the engine.

The LNG carrier loomed larger in the binoculars.

Malik said into his radio, “OK we go. Boat 1 first like before.”

Boat 1's helmsman turned the throttle and the boat moved forward. The other two boats followed.

Like earlier in the evening, Boats 2 and 3 turned away when they came level with the LNG carrier and started to shadow it from a distance. While Boat 1 continued down the Strait, with Malik checking each ship coming in the opposite direction through his binoculars.

Twenty minutes later, as Boat 1 made steady progress up the Strait, Malik found what he was looking for. Up ahead he could see a fully laden Very Large Crude Carrier, slowly progressing through the Strait toward the South China Sea and onto East Asia.

He couldn't see the ship's name or its home port, not that it mattered. The plan had been very specific about the ship's home port, but he no longer needed to follow that aspect of the plan.

Malik nervously fingered his radio as their boat drew level with the huge ship, five or six kilometers away from them in the middle of the Strait.

Malik felt his adrenaline rising, as he thumbed his radio and said, “Boat 2, the operation is on. Continue following your target. I repeat, the operation is on. Boat 3 follow Boat 2.”

Malik heard Ajmal's reply through his radio. “We are following our target and are ready to board when you order us, God willing.”

Chapter 31

Chapter 29

2006-04-06T22:55:00.000-07:00

Indonesia, Straits of Malacca, Palau Nua Island
November 12, 2006, 19:30 local time

The men gathered on the beach a little after dusk. A few women, older men and children stood in silence on the fringes of the beach to see them leave. Some of the men had wanted a prayer service before they left, but the imam in the village was lazy and stupid, and Malik didn't trust him. He had instructed the men to say their prayers at home before they congregated on the beach.

Malik had spent the afternoon ensuring the boats were ready, and Ajmal and Saiful had all their equipment prepared. He'd had a final meeting with the two earlier in the day and went through the plan one last time. He also instructed them to keep radio traffic to a minimum. Saiful in particular liked to talk on the radio, far more than was necessary.

The two wooden boats leaned on their outriggers, just above the gentle waves of the Strait. Each boat was twelve meters long and about a meter and a half wide at the center. At the rear was an old engine attached to a long propeller shaft and supported by a metal bracket that allowed the engine and propeller shaft to move from side to side to steer the boat. When the helmsman lowered the engine into the boat, the shaft and propeller at the end lifted clear of the water, enabling the boat to beach or cross shallow reefs without damaging the propeller.

Saiful, accompanied by Muhammad, had left several hours earlier in a smaller boat, to collect the Malaysian's men from the hidden cove. He would meet up with them at sea. Malik had worried that without a GPS, Saiful would have trouble finding them, but Saiful told him not to worry, as he would find them without difficulty, all they had to do was show a small lamp on each boat and position the boats close together.

The men circulated on the beach greeting each other with the two-handed handshake used as a mark of respect to another. They then separated out into two groups and began to drag the boats the short distance to the water's edge. Within minutes, both boats were two hundred meters offshore, beyond the reef, and ready to go. Malik made a last check that the radios worked.

The two boats motored several kilometers out into the Strait, cut their engines and waited for Saiful's boat to arrive. Both boats showed a light and a causal observer would assume they were fishermen.

Malik used the time to review the main points of the plan, one last time, with the two crews. He finished off by stressing the need to keep their communications discrete.

“We are going to be communicating by radio. Someone might be listening in on our radio traffic, so we have to make sure we don't call people by their names. Just refer to the boats by the numbers I have given them.

“Remember, my boat is Boat 1. I am the Captain of Boat 1 and in control of the operation. If you want to talk to me, just say 'Boat 1'. Don't use my name. Ajmal's boat is Boat 2 and Saiful's boat is Boat 3. Refer to them by their boat number, not their names. When you are on board the ships, don't refer to people by name. If possible, keep completely silent the whole time. Does everyone understand?”

The men said, 'Yes,' or nodded their heads signaling their understanding of the instructions.

They all then waited in silence for Saiful to arrive.

Malik didn't have a schedule of ships passing through the Strait, but it didn't matter. At least a dozen of each type he was interested in, passed through every day, and it was just a matter of waiting for two ships close enough together.

His boat rode the gentle swell. While to the east, he could see a storm progressing from north to south across the Strait. Its passage marked by almost continuous lightning flashes and the dull rumble of distant thunder.

The storm wasn't heading their way. If it had been, he would have to call off the operation for tonight. Those storms threw up dangerous squally winds and waves, which could easily swamp a small boat. There was also a very real risk of being struck by lightning. The local fishermen rightly avoided being out on the water in such weather.

The gentle rocking motion of the boat soothed Malik's anxieties. He thought back through the events that had brought him from an ordinary childhood in the crowded streets of Medan to tonight's events.

The tsunami in Aceh devastated GAM, and its fight for independence. Malik vividly recalled the day of the earthquake and how the ocean had retreated several hundred meters from the nearby beach. People rushed down to get a closer look, then the ocean surged back without warning and swept far inland, killing many cadres. Many others left the movement to find the scattered remnants of their families. To try to help them piece their lives back together.

Malik's commander came to him in the weeks after the tsunami, took him to one side and said, “It's over my friend. The leadership council has decided to negotiate a peace treaty with the Government. Our unit will be disbanded.”

He paused to give Malik time to take in the new information.

Malik felt overwhelmed. His dream of freedom for Sumatra seemed further away than ever, far beyond reach in his lifetime. The struggle had been his life for the last two years and now it was over.

“I know you saw freedom for Aceh as just the first step to freedom for the whole of Sumatra. My advice to you as your friend is stay in the smuggling business. You have a talent for it. And while we will no longer need your services, I am sure you will find other customers.”

His commander paused for a considerable period, then said, “If you want to continue the struggle, I have been told to pass some information onto you that perhaps you can use. The movement was approached several months ago with an offer to fund operations of a certain type. We didn't trust the source and we already receive adequate funds from Arab and other Islamic sources.

“If you use this information, be very careful. These people have no interest in our struggle and just want to use us to further their own ends.”

He handed Malik a small piece of paper with a telephone number and a single phrase written on it.

“If you make contact, you must use that phrase to identify yourself.”

Malik read the phrase again, 'Sea of Fire'.

He took a couple of minutes to memorize the telephone number. The phrase he would have no difficulty in recalling. He then walked over to a small cooking fire and tossed the balled up piece of paper into the flames.

The sound of Saiful's voice on his radio broke Malik's revere.

“Boats 1 and 2, I see you.”

Shortly afterwards, Saiful's boat came into view. The small boat looked crowded with the two crew and seven passengers on board.

Malik ordered the lights extinguished.

Chapter 30

Chapter 28

2006-04-06T20:37:00.000-07:00

Indonesia, a Small Uninhabited Island in the Riau Archipelago
November 12, 2006, 15:30 local time

Jackson moved away from the edge and began to circle around the cove. Pools of water from the rain earlier covered the ground making conditions underfoot treacherous. At one point, his boot slipped on a tree root. He took care not make any unnecessary noise, as he hit the ground awkwardly. Fortunately, his only injury was a cut to his hand from the sharp edge of a rock, as he tried to break his fall.

Ten minutes after he left Joe, Jackson estimated he had gone far enough around the cove to see into the front of the shelter. He crawled forward to where he could look over the edge and down onto the beach.

The man was sitting just inside the smaller shelter's entrance. One of the metal crates was open and the man appeared to be making or assembling something. Jackson took out the binoculars he had borrowed from Rick for a closer look.

What he saw chilled him. The man was cutting the explosives, Jackson had seen in the crate a few days earlier and packing the cut pieces into the front pockets of a safari vest. He had a spool of wire, batteries and what looked like detonators spread out on a sheet of canvas beside him.

Jackson checked his watch. Just before fifteen hundred hours. Still five hours before the SEALS were due to arrive. He needed to warn them.

He crawled back from the edge and made his way through the trees until he was almost at the far side of the island.

Jackson switched on the radio, thumbed transmit and spoke quietly. “Rick can you hear me?”

Rick's voice was startlingly loud in the quiet amongst the trees. “I hear you.”

“I can see a man assembling bomb vests. I repeat, a man is assembling bomb vests.”

Jackson heard Rick let out an “Oh shit.”

After a short delay Rick said, “Head office want to know if any of these bomb vests have been completed.”

“Impossible to tell. I can say no one appears to be wearing one currently.”

“Head office wants you to report immediately if anyone puts one on. That's all, except be careful.”

“I will.”

Jackson needed to tell Joe about the bomb vests. He resisted the urge to go back and watch the man making the suicide bomb vests, and began to make his way through the still dripping trees to Joe's observation post. Not having radios they could use to communicate with each other was proving to be a major problem.

He again had difficulty finding Joe's position. The rocks and trees all looked the same to him. After a frustrating ten minutes searching, he saw Joe signaling to him from behind a curtain of creepers.

When Jackson got close to Joe, he heard him whisper, “Sarge, if you keep getting lost all the time, maybe you should stay in the observation post and let me do the wandering around the island.”

“Joe, the man inside the small shelter is making bomb vests. It looks like we have a team of suicide bombers down there.”

“Man oh man. I'm sure glad we're not the ones going onto that beach to snatch someone.”

Jackson said, “We will be OK up here, as long as no one gets up that ladder, so you will have to stay in this position. I need to go back and continue watching the bomb maker. With us watching from opposite sides, no one will be able to climb the rock face unobserved either. Although, if they don't know we are here, I don't see why anyone would climb the rock face, when they could use the ladder.”

Jackson looked at his watch. “It's now fifteen thirty. I'll try and get back here by eighteen hundred.”

“Understood.”

Jackson went to the sailing bag, found the water container and took a long drink. Going back and forth across the island in the humidity and heat of the day was dehydrating him. He took another long drink, before taking the water container over to Joe.

Joe whispered, “Thanks, Sarge. I'm pretty thirsty.”

It took him fifteen minutes to circle back around the cove to where he could see into the front of the small shelter. When he found a suitable position where he could see the bomb maker and remain hidden from anyone looking up from the beach, he settled down to watch.

The man had finished cutting the explosives and packing them in the vests and now worked methodically at cutting wire and using it to connect batteries and detonators.

One of the other men brought the bomb maker a drink and some kind of snack.

An hour later, the bomb maker appeared to have finished. The bomb vests were laid out beside him. Jackson needed to update Rick, and through Rick their mission control.

He crawled back from the edge and made his way as quickly as he could toward the far side of the island.

He turned on the radio.

“Rick, can you hear me.”

“I hear you.”

“The bomb vests appear to be complete. So whatever happens next is likely to be soon.”

“Anyone wearing the bomb vests yet?”

“As of ten minutes ago, when I left my position to radio you, no one was wearing one of the vests.”

“OK, got that. The collection team is confirmed to arrive at twenty hundred. Good luck.”

Jackson was heartily sick of crisscrossing the top of the island, always needing to look down so he could see the high-sided tree roots that snaked across the rocky ground, while pushing his way through the branches and creepers.

When he neared the rock edge, he crawled forward and looked down. He could see the man who had been assembling the bomb vests was now addressing the other men who were sitting in a semicircle around him. Jackson counted seven men in the semicircle. At least, they had accounted for all the men who came in the boats.

The bomb maker was speaking in Bahasa, a language Jackson didn't understand. He would need to go back to Joe to find out what they were saying. But, it wasn't necessary to understand his words to appreciate what he was doing. He was instructing the group on how to detonate the vests.

Each man got up in turn and the bomb maker put one of the vests on him and showed him how to arm and then detonate the bomb vest. Everyone seemed so calm and matter of fact about it that again Jackson wondered if they were drugged. He found the scene chilling.

The routine took about five minutes for each man. A little more than twenty minutes later, half the men were wearing a vest. If the SEALs came in now, there would be carnage. Just one of those vests detonating would kill most of the people on the small beach and seriously injure any survivors.

Jackson checked his watch. It was already after eighteen hundred hours, less than two hours before the SEALs arrived and past the time, he said he would get back to Joe. It would also be dark in less than an hour.

He once again crawled away from the rock edge, and then made his way through the trees toward the far side of the island. He was conscious of hurrying and at one point his boot slid off one of the high roots radiating out from a tree and he fell awkwardly turning his ankle. He got up and tentatively put his weight on the ankle. It seemed OK, if a bit sore. Even a minor injury, like a sprained ankle, at this stage would be a disaster.

Five minutes later, he turned on his radio and quietly said, “Rick, can you hear me?”

“Faint, but clear.”

“They are putting on the bomb vests. As of ten minutes ago, four men were wearing them. You must tell head office to cancel the collection. I repeat, the men on the beach are wearing bomb vests. Cancel the collection.”

“Hold on.”

Two minutes later, Rick came back and said, “Head office says it's too late to cancel the collection. The collection team is due in just over ninety minutes. Your orders are to stay in position and guide them in.”

Jackson had force himself not to raise his voice. “I'm telling you the collection mission has to be canceled. If one of those men detonates his bomb vest, it will kill everyone on the beach. The mission is far too risky.”

Jackson heard Rick sigh, before he responded, “Let me talk to head office again.”

When Rick came back, Jackson could hear the disappointment in his voice. “I tried to persuade them, but head office is adamant the collection goes ahead. They say, with you there in an observation post, the collection team will know precisely what they are up against and have surprise on their side.

“When the team arrives it will contact me, so we will have another chance to persuade the team leader that it's too risky.”

'Assuming we don't get some asshole wannabe hero', Jackson thought to himself. Then he said, “Thanks Rick, at least you tried.”

“I did try, but I didn't succeed, which is what matters. You don't think that if someone doesn't make it back tonight, I won't have to live with thinking, I could have tried harder or done something different to stop the operation?”

Jackson felt guilty about unloading on Rick a couple of hours earlier, and replied, “I'll remember you tried, and I should apologize for my outburst earlier.”

“No need. You have every right to be angry. The Agency these days is run by people who have never worked in the field and don't understand the importance of planning and preparation to field operations.”

Jackson switched off the radio.

It was time to find Joe. Jackson looked around. The sun had already disappeared from view below the level of the island and a gloom enveloped the stunted forest. He had discovered in the short time he had been in Singapore that dusk occurred much quicker here than in more northern latitudes. In no more than ten minutes, it would be dark.

Fifteen minutes later, he was stumbling through the almost pitch-black forest, trying to find his partner. He was aware he was making too much noise and prayed he didn't accidentally fall over the edge. He hoped the young Ranger wasn't easily spooked or trigger-happy.

Jackson thought he detected a faint glow to his right that perhaps came from a light on the beach below. If he kept parallel to the glow, he should avoid the edge and go in the direction of Joe.

He stopped every ten steps to try to see Joe's position. He scanned the darkness using his peripheral vision, which was more sensitive in very low light conditions. He also knew vision slowly improved in near total darkness for up to thirty minutes. He found that different shades of black and gray, representing trees and the spaces between them had replaced the near pitch-black of ten minutes earlier.

When he was sure, he had must have gone too far and passed Joe in the dark, he vaguely made out the outline of what he thought was a man crouching beside a tree. A step closer and he could see the man's arms pointed in his direction and what must be a pistol pointed at him.

He whispered, “Joe, it's me.”

He saw the arms lower and the figure start to move toward him.

“No, don't move.”

Joe needed to keep that ladder in view.

Jackson came up to Joe's position and looked over the edge. He could see the instructional class continuing on the beach below, now illuminated by a lamp beside the larger shelter. He crouched down beside Joe.

Jackson whispered, “You know what's happening?”

Joe whispered in response, “Suicide bombing 101. Although, I don't expect, many enroll in the 102 class.”

Jackson said, “I tried to stop the SEALs, but mission control is insisting it goes ahead. They must be really desperate to get their hands on one of those guys, if they are willing to risk men's lives by sending them onto that beach.”

Jackson turned away from the edge, and using his body to shield his arm, risked pressing the button that illuminated the face of his watch. It was almost nineteen thirty hours.

Jackson said, “In about half an hour, I have to brief the collection team, which means I will have to leave you and go back across the island in order to use the radio. It's a bitch not having military radios, because I need you to warn me if there are any significant developments. Can you make some kind of animal noise that carries and might not attract attention?”

It sounded dumb to Jackson when he said it, but he couldn't think of a better way to signal.

“I'll make a chipmunk sound.”

“Understood. I'll try and do the same in acknowledgment.”

Jackson looked down on the beach and thought, 'I hope they keep that light on, because without night vision equipment, someone could come up the ladder unobserved in the dark.'

Twenty minutes later, Jackson left Joe's position and went back toward the far side of the island. He took care not to stumble in the dark. When he estimated he was forty meters away, he took out the radio and turned it on.

”Rick, has the team arrived yet?”

“Not yet, but they are due to contact me in the next five minutes. Stay where you are and I'll tell you when they do.”

Jackson pulled the radio away from his ear. He was sure he heard a vaguely animal-like sound.

“I have to go, Rick. I just heard Joe's signal something is up.”

“What's happening?”

“I'm forty meters away from him. I need to go back and find out.”

“Contact me as soon as possible, so I know what's happening. I'll try to hold the collection team until I hear from you.”

Chapter 29

Chapter 27

2006-04-06T20:33:00.000-07:00

Indonesia, a Small Uninhabited Island in the Riau Archipelago
November 11, 2006, 18:00 local time

Jackson heard Rick say, “There is an urgent effort underway to arrange a high priority collection of the items. We need direct observation on the items to ensure the collection goes smoothly. Do you understand?”

He understood. They wanted him to go to the island and set up an observation post directly above the hidden cove. It was far too risky with eight men, armed with automatic weapons and large amounts of explosives, occupying the beach.

“Direct observation is too risky. Repeat, too risky.”

“They thought that would be your reaction. I have been told to say that not only are you ordered to go, but co-workers of yours are coming to make the collection and they need an observer to tell them exactly what is happening before they go in.”

“Why can't the collection team set up their own observation post before going in? We don't have the right equipment and are not prepared.”

“I was also told to tell you that you are the only ones who know the layout of the collection area and sending in new people may compromise the collection. Finally, I was told, you are not going to let your co-workers down.”

Jackson felt trapped by the logic of the argument. People not familiar with the layout of the island would be more likely to be detected and compromise the operation, which could result in casualties. Jackson didn't want that on his conscience. He would go back to the island, despite his serious reservations about their lack of preparation and suitable equipment.

“Tell the man arranging this collection, he is a prize son of a bitch.”

“I'll pass those exact words onto him.”

“What else can you tell me about the collection?”

“It will happen in a little over twenty four hours and they will be arriving by sea.”

Jackson said, “Make sure they know how narrow the gap into the cove is. Their boats may have difficulty getting through.”

After a brief delay, Rick said, “They are not taking boats in.”

It took Jackson a moment to understand that no boats meant divers swimming in, which meant Navy SEALs.

“I understand.”

“They want the items under observation as soon as possible. I'll pick you up in the Zodiac in fifteen minutes. Is that enough time?”

“It's going to be dark in half an hour. We don't have time to prepare tonight. We will go in tomorrow morning.”

Rick responded, “I'll tell them that.”

Jackson felt some satisfaction in the small stand he had made against the CIA's continual ad hoc, unplanned approach to the operation. Besides, those men had been brought to the island to hide them. He very much doubted they would be picked up in the dark within a few hours of being dropped off.

Rick said, “They have agreed to you setting up the new observation post tomorrow morning. Although, you should know that if those men leave tonight and we lose them, the CIA intends to blame you, because you refused to follow an order.”

“Thanks for warning me, Rick. And you can also tell them, we man the new observation post for a maximum of twenty four hours. After that I want out, regardless of whether the collection happens or not.”

Rick didn't respond directly, and said, “I'll pick you up in the Zodiac at oh seven hundred hours.”

“We'll be ready.”

Joe had been listening in on the radio conversation, and said, “So, we are going back to the other island. I wanted to get to see that cove for myself. It sounds a pretty cool place.”

Jackson knew that Joe was deliberately making light of the situation, and he had to give him the opportunity to decline to participate in the new observation post.

“This OP will be risky and we don't have the right equipment or weapons. You don't have to come onto the island with me. You can stay on the cruiser with Rick.”

“I'm coming. Can't let the D-man have all the excitement.”

“Thanks, Joe.”

Jackson was relieved that Joe was coming with him. A one-man observation post, especially in a situation like this, was fraught with risks.

Jackson said, “We need to figure out what to take, and pack it away before it gets dark.”

***

Jackson and Joe packed their gear in the pale predawn light. The pair then made their way across the island to where Rick would pick them up in the Zodiac, out of sight of anyone watching from the other island.

Shortly after dawn, Rick steered the inflatable in a wide circle, away from the island where they had manned the observation post for the last two days, around toward the far side of the island with the hidden cove. They wanted to keep well clear of the entrance to the hidden cove. Jackson thought it unlikely that the subdued noise of the Zodiac's engine would reach into the sheltered cove but someone might be keeping watch over the approaches to the island.

They approached the far side of the island and Joe said, “I think I should climb first, rope up the gear and then rope you up.”

Jackson responded, “OK, but we keep silent until we are both at the top. Understood?”

“Understood, Sarge.”

The rock face, both men had climbed at different times in the previous week, came closer. The inflatable bumped against the rocks, and Joe was out of the craft and climbing, just as quickly as the previous time.

As Jackson watched Joe climb, the dark clouds billowing in the sky above the island drew his gaze upward. He heard the dull roll of thunder at intervals. Climbing an exposed face in a lightning storm was not a good idea. They needed to get a move on.

Joe reached the top and Jackson attached the single bag they had hastily packed with mostly food and water. He gave the rope two tugs and Joe began to haul it up.

Shortly after the bag disappeared from view, Jackson felt two tugs on the rope. He turned to Rick and said, “I'm ready to go.”

“I'll wait in the inflatable until I hear from you on the radio.”

“A storm is going to hit shortly. You could get struck by lightning waiting out here.”

“I'll take my chances.”

Jackson didn't respond as he mentally prepared himself for the climb.

As the inflatable bumped the rock and Jackson reached out, he nearly missed his first handhold. It wouldn't have been a disaster if he did, just result in an impromptu swim in the warm ocean water, but a warning nonetheless to be careful.

He began to climb, and the rain hit in an almost solid wall. Within seconds, it was streaming down the rock face. Jackson put his head down and concentrated on his next hand and foothold. He was conscious of climbing much more slowly than Joe.

The torrential rain made the rock face treacherous, and the hand and footholds slick. Several times, he though he had a secure foothold only to have his foot slide off the rock when he put his weight on it. When he tried to look up, the rain blew directly into his eyes. A crashing boom and a bright blue flash told him lightning had struck nearby. Jackson knew he had no choice except to keep going.

He eventually reached the top and Joe reached out to help him over the edge. Joe had roped himself to a tree in case Jackson slipped and he had to take his weight.

Both men were completely soaked. The only waterproofs Rick could offer them were bright yellow, completely unsuitable for a covert observation mission. Not that it mattered now. Neither of them could get any wetter than they were.

The stunted creeper-covered jungle on the top of the island had an eerie quality in the gloom caused by the torrential rain and the black clouds overhead. Lightning flashes briefly illuminated the scene.

Jackson said quietly to Joe, “You take the bag. I'll lead with my weapon out and ready. You follow close behind. This stuff is hard enough to get through normally and the rain will make surfaces treacherous. Try not to stumble on those high tree roots that radiate out from the trees. They are all over the ground.”

Joe asked, “What about the ropes?”

“Bring them with us.”

Jackson slowly made his way through the trees and creepers, taking care not to trip. It took them fifteen minutes to cross the less than one hundred meters to where Jackson could see over the edge of the rocks, down onto the cove. He stepped back from the edge and held his arm out to stop Joe. Jackson pointed back the way they had come.

When they had moved about five meters back, Jackson leaned over and whispered in Joe's ear, “I can't see anyone down on the beach. They must be inside those huts, sheltering from the rain.”

He pointed over to his right. “There's a bamboo ladder that reaches from the beach to up here. We need to be sure no one makes it up that ladder. If they do, we are in trouble. Find a position to the left where you can keep the entire length of the ladder under observation. Use your weapon to prevent anyone coming up. Don't worry about gunfire compromising our position. Your priority is to prevent anyone getting up here. Understood?”

Joe whispered back, “Understood, Sergeant.”

“I'll move forward again to cover the ladder until you are in position.”

“I'm on my way.”

Joe moved away to his left, then disappear behind the sodden, creeper-covered trees, as Jackson retraced his steps to the edge of the rock, crawling the last couple of meters on his belly.

Jackson watched the deserted beach for fifteen minutes, sufficient time for Joe to find a position to keep the ladder under observation, before crawling back from the edge. He retreated far enough away from the cove that someone on the beach wouldn't hear him, before taking out his radio. He turned the volume right down, switched it on, then pressed transmit.

“Rick, can you hear me?”

“I hear you.”

“We are in position. You can leave now.”

“Good luck, guys. I'll standby for your next transmission.”

“Understood, but don't initiate contact with us. We need to keep silent and these radios make too much noise.”

Jackson turned off the radio and began to make his way through the torrential rain toward where Joe should be. The water had accumulated in ankle-deep pools in the rock. He had though he couldn't get any wetter, but he was wrong.

He kept well away from the edge, as he worked his way around to the left, searching for Joe. Twenty minutes later, he still hadn't found him. He alternated between admiration for Joe's ability to conceal himself and concern he couldn't find his partner.

Jackson stopped to re-orient himself and saw Joe appear from behind a creeper-covered tree, little more than a bush. Joe beckoned him over and when he came close, Joe whispered, “What the fuck are you doing, Sarge. You went by my position three times.”

Jackson didn't respond, he just pointed back in the direction Joe had come from.

Joe led him a few meters through a tangle of creepers to the rock edge. Joe's position was on the left-hand side of the cove and gave a clear view down the short length of the beach. There was still no one in view, although the rain was easing.

Joe whispered, “I'll keep watch. Why don't you find that coffee I made first thing this morning?”

Jackson stepped back from the edge to where Joe had left the sailing bag. He found the flask of coffee and poured two cups. The rain had stopped and despite the tropical heat, he felt chilled in his soaking wet clothes. The coffee would help them through a miserable couple of hours until they dried out.

When Jackson brought Joe his coffee, Joe signaled for him to keep down, out of sight. Crawling awkwardly forward he handed Joe his coffee and then looked over the edge. Two men were out on the beach.

One of the men took a portable stove and cooking pot out of the smaller shelter and set them up on a metal table beside the shelter. The man reentered the shelter and returned with a water container and a plastic bag. He proceeded to make a large batch of noodles for breakfast.

Five minutes later, all eight men were out on the beach. They each took their bowls of noodles and sat crossed-legged in a loose circle to eat. The men talked as they ate.

Jackson asked Joe, “What are they saying?”

Joe responded, “I'm having trouble hearing, because they are speaking quietly. What I am catching is mostly talk about things different people have done and some religious stuff. I'm guessing they all went to the same school or religious institution.”

The rest of the morning passed uneventfully and included a prayer session in which all the men on the beach took part.

At one point, the man, who was older than the others and appeared to be in charge, called the other men together and gave them a short speech or perhaps instructions.

Jackson asked Joe, “What did he say?”

“He told them to collect rocks and place them in two piles on the beach.”

“Rocks, you sure?”

“I'm sure.”

The men began searching the beach and picking up pieces of rock. Fifteen minutes later, there were two small piles of rocks on the beach, just above the waterline, about ten meters apart.

Jackson whispered, “Did he say what the rocks are for?”

“No he didn't. Do you know?”

“No idea.”

Jackson left Joe to go halfway across the island, in order to contact Rick using the emergency radio.

“Rick, can you hear me?”

Rick's reply sounded loud in the quiet of the trees. “I hear you. Head office has been asking why we haven't received a status report from you.”

“I have to get well away from the observation post, to use this noisy radio. That takes time. My report is, confirm eight men on the beach. Nothing of note has happened. No further arrivals or departures.”

Rick replied, “I'll pass that on. Now, I have an update for you on the collection. It's scheduled for twenty hundred hours. You are ordered to provide a situation update every hour until then.”

“An hourly update is not possible. I'll try for every two hours but even that may prove difficult.”

“I'll pass that information on, as well.”

“How are they going to extract us?”

“Same way you went in, I'm afraid. I pick you up in the Zodiac.”

Jackson responded angrily, “So we get picked up by an almost civilian in a rubber boat, from a small island with half dozen, fired up terrorists, armed with AK47s and enough explosives to bring down the Brooklyn Bridge, who are as mad as hell because two of their buddies have just been snatched. That's not a plan. That's a clusterfuck in preparation.”

Rick said, “I'll speak to head office and see if they can put something else in place.”

There was no point venting his anger and frustration on Rick. It wasn't his fault. Jackson turned off the radio and started back across the island to their observation post.

Jackson and Joe's lunch consisted of a can of beans shared between them and an energy bar each. The men on the beach ate rice and what looked to Jackson like dried fish.

After lunch, with the sun shining directly down on the beach, the men retreated to the larger shelter to escape the heat of the day. Jackson and Joe had no such luxury and continued their watch. Each took turns sheltering from the sun beneath a nearby tree.

Mid-afternoon, the older man left the larger shelter and went across to the smaller shelter they used as storeroom.

He didn't re-emerge. Their current position meant they were looking straight down on the shelter's roof and the entrance faced away from them.

Jackson whispered to Joe, “That shelter has the explosives and weapons in it and we need to know what he is doing in there. If I move around to the far side of the cove I should be able to see into the front of the shelter.”

Chapter 28

Chapter 26

2006-04-06T20:30:00.000-07:00

Indonesia, a Small Uninhabited Island in the Riau Archipelago
Nov 11, 2006, 15:00 local time

It was their second day into the observation post, and Jackson realized the pair of them had already slipped into a routine. Joe would offer to do chores around their campsite in exchange for Jackson taking longer as the observer.

When Jackson asked him why, Joe replied, “It bores me, Sarge. Just sitting there all the time and watching. I need to do things with my hands.”

“You should do what I do. Imagine you are at the beach on vacation, just relaxing in the nice warm breeze with the ocean view, then think, hey I'm getting paid for this.”

“I could never take a vacation at the beach. I gotta have stimulation, excitement, man.”

One of the things Joe did to keep busy was to practice throwing his knife. His routine was to first sharpen the knife with a small whetstone, then start throwing the knife against a tree, where it embedded in the wood with a dull thud. He would then step back and throw the knife a longer distance. It still embedded in the tree every time.

He'd take another step back such that he was a good ten meters from the target, still rarely missing and most times getting the knife to cleanly embed in the tree at right angles to the ground.

Joe would then practice turning and throwing at trees beside or behind him. He didn't hit every time. Sometimes the knife would strike the tree and not penetrate the wood, bouncing off and clattering amongst the rocks.

He finished off by sharpening the knife, before putting back in the sheath on his belt.

After the second of Joe's knife throwing sessions, Jackson asked him, “Where'd you learn to throw a knife like that. It's not a skill they teach in The Rangers.”

“Learned it from my grandpa. He taught me as a kid in our back yard. The trick is to measure the distance you have to throw in terms of the number times the knife turns in the air. I look at a distance, and say to myself that's a five-turn throw or that's a six-turn throw. Of course, the number of turns will vary with the knife you are throwing and how much spin you impart, but you can tell that by how the knife feels when it leaves your hand when you throw it.”

***

Jackson kept watch over the vista of islands and blue green ocean. Far to his left something came into view. He picked up his binoculars and saw a boat with what looked like five men in it. As he watched, he saw a second boat come into view with another five or perhaps six men on board.

“Something is happening.”

“What?”

“Two boats, maybe ten men, heading in this direction.”

Jackson needed to warn Rick.

“Give me the radio.”

Joe passed the bright yellow radio to him.

Jackson pressed the Transmit button. “Rick.”

“I hear you.”

“Two containers with at least ten coming our way.”

“Confirm, two containers with ten. I will forward the message. Are the containers coming my way?”

“Not coming your way.”

“Understood.”

During the time he was talking to Rick on the radio, Jackson kept his binoculars trained on the two wooden boats. Nobody on board reacted in a way that might indicate they had overhead the radio transmission. The boats continued heading directly toward the island with the hidden cove. He counted eleven men on board the two boats.

Jackson glanced at his watch, sixteen fifty hours.

Joe asked, “What's happening?”

“The boats are definitely heading toward the island.”

Joe was behind him and said, “I see them now.”

Twenty minutes later the two boats reached the island. Jackson saw men on both boats remove their outriggers. The lead boat then slowly approached the seemingly sheer and impenetrable rock face the island presented, then disappeared from view. Shortly afterwards, the second boat similarly disappeared into the island.

“Hell of a hiding place,” Jackson said to himself.

Jackson thumbed transmit on the radio, “Rick.”

“I hear you.”

“Both packages now inside the island.”

“Got that. Uncle says he wants a status every hour. Understood?”

“Understood.”

“He also says he is arranging a special collection. More soon.”

“Got it.”

Jackson put down the radio and continued his watch.

“It's seventeen hundred hours,” Joe said, “time for my watch.”

Jackson responded, “Remember the deal we made over breakfast. I'd do an extra two hours watch in exchange for you preparing the food and making coffee.”

“Well, that was when nothing was happening, Sarge.”

Jackson handed the binoculars to Joe. “Let me know, soon as you see something. Guess this means I'm preparing dinner.”

Jackson wondered if he should use the radio to call Rick again to see if he knew any more about the special collection. He decided against it. He only had one spare battery for the radio and the one in there was already more than half-gone.

He assumed a special collection meant a squad would be coming in to try to grab some of the men. Jackson wondered who would do it. Experience told him that the CIA wasn't good at this kind of thing.

He walked over to the lean-to Joe had constructed behind the boulder, and rummaged through the sailing bag containing their food. They had already eaten the best stuff. All they had left was dried soup, a couple cans of wieners and beans, some canned fruit, pasta, crackers and canned sardines. Jackson thought to himself, who in their right mind would stock a boat's rations with canned fish. Looking at their meager supplies, Jackson thought a plate of steak, potatoes and greens would look pretty good right now.

Jackson decided to make a deal with Joe for him to make dinner. At least he knew how to combine the pasta and dried soup to make it taste like something.

“Joe, you know how you hate being woken up for the oh two hundred watch?”

“Yeah.”

“How about, you do eight till midnight and I do midnight straight through till oh four hundred, and in exchange you make dinner.”

“OK, it's a deal. Nothing is happening here. You want me to start dinner now?”

“Sure.”

Ten minutes later, Jackson caught the aroma of the, by now familiar, dried soup and pasta concoction, and was thinking about dinner, when he saw a boat appear from the island's hidden entrance. It had just a single man on board. Shortly afterwards a second boat appeared, with two men on board. Both boats stopped just outside the entrance to the hidden cove. The three men helped each other reattach their boat's outriggers.

Rather than heading back in the direction they had come from toward the southwest, the boats turned in the opposite direction, northeast. A course that would take them close to the island him and Joe were watching from. When they passed the island, they would see Rick's boat, which was directly behind the island.

Jackson reached for the radio, unsure over how he would describe the situation in their improvised code.

“Both packages are outside again with only three units in them, now heading northeast. You will be in view shortly. Repeat, your cruiser will be in view of the packages shortly, less than five minutes.”

Rick replied immediately, “Understood.”

The two boats continued on a course that would take them within twenty of thirty meters of Jackson's position. He could see all three men clearly through his binoculars.

“Joe, the boats have left the island and are heading toward us. Rick's cruiser will be in view of them in a few minutes. I've just warned him. Can you take over here, while I go to the other side of the island and try and see what Rick does?”

“What about dinner?”

“Forget it. Come and keep watch here. I need to go and see what's happening with Rick's boat. Just make sure you keep out of sight. They are not much more than a hundred meters away.”

Jackson pushed his way through the tangled trees as quickly as he could, wishing he had spent the time to cut an access route across the island.

He had a bad feeling that their improvised operation was about to go seriously wrong, without backup or any real plan as to what to do if Rick's cruiser was attacked or had make to make a run for it.

Rick's boat came into view, a couple of hundred meters from the side of the island. It gave no indication it was about to leave. The two wooden boats would come around the side of the island and into view very soon.

Jackson spoke into the radio. “Rick, why don't you get out of here?”

The reply came back immediately. “Not enough time. A moving boat is more visible than one that's stationary. If they are heading away from me, there is a good chance they won't look back and see the cruiser. My best option is to stay here and hope they don't spot me. If they do and come in my direction, then I'll have time to make a run for it. Can you see me, Delisle?”

“Yeah, I'm directly above the cruiser.”

“Keep watch on those boats for me. If you see either turn in my direction. Warn me immediately.”

“Will do.”

Jackson waited anxiously for the two small boats to come into view around the side the side of the island.

If Rick had to make a run for it in the cruiser, then his and Joe's position was vulnerable, perhaps untenable with their only means of extraction gone. He silently cursed the CIA and their lack of planning.

He began to think how two men with pistols could defend the island against three men landing from two separate boats. He didn't want to think about how he and Joe could defend the island against all eleven of the men, armed with those AK47s. It would be impossible.

The first of the two small wooden boats came into sight of Jackson.

He spoke into the radio. “First boat in view.”

Rick replied, “I can't see it yet.”

“You should in a few seconds.”

“OK, I see it now . . . and now I see the second boat.”

Jackson looked up into the sky. The day was cloudy, but there was no chance of a sudden tropical storm reducing visibility. All they could do was wait and hope the men in the boats didn't look back.

Ten minutes later, Jackson heard Rick over the radio. “They are almost out of sight of me, which means I am almost out of sight of them. I think we are OK.”

“I'll keep watch from here for a while longer.”

When the two boats were at least five kilometers away across the ocean, Jackson told Rick, “They are almost out sight.”

Rick responded, “At times like this I tell myself, you need to retire for real.”

Jackson went back to update Joe.

When he arrived at their observation post, Joe said, “Sarge, if those men had seen Rick's cruiser and he had to leave in a hurry, we would have been left here with no way to get off this island. What if they figured out we were here, and came searching for us?”

Jackson replied, “I know. We need to tell the CIA to get us out of here.”

Rick's voice came on the hand-held radio, and said, “Standby for further orders.”

Chapter 27

Chapter 25

2006-04-06T20:25:00.000-07:00

Indonesia, a Tidal Inlet near Bargko on the Sumatran East Coast
November 11, 2006, 12:00 local time

Ajmal's boat followed Saiful's up the muddy creek lined with mangroves. Malik sat at the front of Ajmal's boat. Only the smallest of the village's boats would make it through the narrow gap into the hidden cove, so they needed two to transport the Malaysian's men and whatever they had brought with them. Ajmal hadn't wanted to come and Malik had to force him. He needed to restrict knowledge of the island to just the three who would hide there. Malik wasn't experienced enough to steer a boat on his own. So, Ajmal had to pilot one of the boats.

Ajmal had been sullen the whole trip and rebuffed Malik's attempts to start a conversation. Malik didn't know the reason for Ajmal's behavior but it made him nervous. As the time to execute the plan drew closer, he became increasingly concerned an informer would betray them. Perhaps the reason Ajmal didn’t want to come was because he knew, once they had picked up the Malaysian’s men, the authorities would arrest them all.

As they approached the dock, Saiful stopped his boat in the middle of the creek, so Ajmal's boat, with Malik on board, could pass.

As Ajmal's boat drew up to the jungle-fringed, wooden dock, Malik could see the Malaysian's men were already there waiting. Behind the dock in a small cleared area, he could see Wahid climbing out of his minibus.

The men didn't stand out as much, as Malik had feared. Apart from the wispy beards, which most Indonesians avoided, not least because they didn't grow them well, they could have been a group of university students.

As he tied up the boat, Wahid walked down the jetty toward him and said, “You kept me waiting.”

Malik replied, “You were early.”

Wahid shrugged. “The bus was early for a change.”

Perhaps anticipating trouble, getting Malik to pay the extra fifty thousand, he added, “But I haven't been waiting long and for the sake of our business relationship, you don't need to pay me the extra fifty thousand. In the future, make sure you always come to me when you want to do business in Bargko.”

Malik walked up the dock toward the group of men waiting for him. One of the men, older than the others, who were in their early twenties, came forward. Malik greeted him then leaned close and quietly said the password.

The man nodded and withdrew two bulky packages from his small travel bag and handed them to Malik. Malik took the packages and opened the end of one of them. It contained a thick wad of one hundred thousand Rupiah notes. Malik counted five and pulled them off the wad, then put the package in his pocket. He felt the thickness of the other package. He knew how thick five thousand dollars in hundred dollar bills felt. This felt ten times thicker. He would check the contents later in private.

He walked over to Wahid gave him two of the notes and shook his hand. Malik then walked up to the house where the same man from the previous day was sitting in the same chair. He handed three, one hundred thousand Rupiah notes to the man, who took them wordlessly and without acknowledging Malik.

Malik walked back to the group of men and indicated they should follow him down the dock. He told four of them they were to go in Saiful's boat. He climbed down into Ajmal's boat and told the remaining four men to get into his boat.

Most of the men stepped tentatively into the narrow wooden boats. Malik noticed one of them stepped in without concern, suggesting a familiarity with small boats.

Malik called to Saiful, “We are ready to leave.”

Saiful pushed the rear of his boat away from the dock and used a paddle to pull the rear of the boat around. When the boat had turned a hundred and eighty degrees in the narrow creek, he started the engine and motored past Malik and down the creek.

Ajmal performed the same maneuver, started his engine and motored toward Saiful's boat, waiting thirty meters down the creek.

The two boats with their passengers made their way down the progressively wider creek back out to the open waters of the Strait. The men on board Malik's boat were quiet, almost passive, and he wondered if they were drugged.

Chapter 26

Chapter 24

2006-04-06T20:21:00.000-07:00

Indonesia, Straits of Malacca, Palau Nua Island
November 10, 2006, 18:30 local time

Malik sat on the patio made of rough-hewn timber, just back from the white sand beach. Two older men sat across at an angle across from him, such that all three could see the beach and the ocean beyond. Between them was a small table with a pitcher of iced tea and some snacks.

As usual, Malik had posted a lookout to keep watch for any approaching boats. If one approached and the crew was not recognized, he would receive a warning. Initially, he would just move a couple of hundred meters back from the shore to an abandoned house where at some point someone had attempted to grow rice paddy.

If the boat landed and carried government officials, soldiers or anyone suspicious, one of his men would send a message and he would move to the small shelter he had provisioned in the island's interior.

While the island was small, no more than two kilometers across and three kilometers long, dense forest covered the interior, with many steep slopes and marshy areas. This was the only beach with navigable access to the sea and as a result the site of the only village on the island. It was also the only place to land a boat on the island.

In the unlikely event the police or the army came looking for him, it would take dozens of men, days to do a thorough search of the island, and even then, he was confident of his ability to evade any searchers.

The Indonesian military didn't like to get their nice clean uniforms dirty or expend their efforts in so obviously fruitless a task, as searching an entire island to apprehend a small-time smuggler. He knew the only real risk was from an informer, and he was sure he covered that possibility by a combination of threats and bribes.

At the thought of the Indonesian military, Malik stood, leaned over the rough rail that surrounded the wooden deck, cleared his throat and spat. It had been two years since the military in Aceh had detained him. The beatings, he received at their hands, had strengthened his resolve, but it was still an experience he didn't want to repeat.

He turned back to face the two village headmen before addressing them in the local dialect. “Are we agreed on the three crews for tomorrow?”

One of the men said, “Yes.” The other remained silent with a slight swaying of the head that signified he was unhappy and not prepared to agree.

They had spent the last two hours discussing who should be in which crew. Malik needed two men experienced in boarding ships in the boat that would carry the Malaysian's men. The two village headmen were concerned about balancing the risks and rewards across the different family groups in the village. Making sure all were involved and no one would feel slighted or offended, and tempted to inform to the authorities. Malik suspected that the two headmen were using this as an opportunity to pay off some debts and perhaps settle some old scores.

Malik was tired after his trip to Bargko, arranging the pick up of the Malaysian's men, and just wanted to get this over with. He addressed the man who had yet to agree. “Who would you like to change?”

“Why is Muhammad on the boat carrying the strangers? He is an excellent seaman and an aggressive fighter. He should be in the boarding party.”

Malik continued the slow process of convincing them of the importance of the third boat.

“We are getting paid to take those men to the ship. In addition, if the crew of the target vessel has been alerted they will be prepared for our men boarding and will try to prevent them, perhaps with weapons. I need someone who can distract attention from the boarders, and that means someone who can fire an automatic weapon. Also, we need the best seamen on that boat because the strangers are not familiar with boats and will need help getting on board the ship. Those are the reasons why I want Muhammad on the third boat.”

Malik had another more important reason for wanting Muhammad in the third boat that he couldn't tell these men. The third boat would go to the island with the hidden cove. He had discussed the problem at length with Saiful and Ajmal. He didn't want anyone apart from the three of them knowing about the island. Yet he couldn't see anyway to execute the plan without a fourth man going to the island and therefore knowing about it.

He had asked Saiful could he collect the men on his own. The ever optimistic Saiful had shrugged his shoulders and quietly shook his head.

Ajmal had answered for him.

“It's too risky. You need two men for that job.”

They had decided on Muhammad because they considered him reliable and as Ajmal said, “He's a good boatman, but he's not a good navigator. If he goes to the island in the dark, I'm sure he won't be able to find his way back there.”

The headman who had yet to agree brought Malik back to the present by saying, “But the men from the first two boats, who board the ships, will get the money and valuables, and those on the third boat will get nothing. Muhammad will think you don't consider him brave enough to board the ship.”

Malik said, “I offered pay Muhammad extra money to go in the third boat and you refused.”

“That's because, if there is not much on the ship, the men who board the ships will feel they took the risks and got less than Muhammad who just stayed in his boat.”

Malik knew these men saw the operation as piracy, just on a larger scale than they were used to. They had little understanding of the wider world and how Malik's plan would send economic and political shock waves through it. Not that Malik cared. He was doing it because he needed the money. It was just business.

“What if I give the men who board an extra five hundred thousand Rupiah as well?”

The man gave his grudging assent to Muhammad's presence on the third boat, in return for the extra payment. Malik heaved an imperceptible sigh of relief.

Chapter 25

Chapter 23

2006-04-03T18:07:00.000-07:00

Indonesia, Straits of Malacca, Palau Nua Island
November 10, 2006, 09:00 local time

Malik knew he was late in contacting the Malaysian. He urgently needed to access the Internet, which meant a trip to the Sumatran mainland, to somewhere that had regular telephone lines.

One of the men from the village agreed to take him the eighty kilometers to Bargko.

They arrived just before midday at the bustling coastal town. Malik told the man he would be back in a couple of hours. He made his way from the jetty, past the town's shops and small businesses clustered around the small harbor, toward the small shop on a back street he always used to access the Internet.

The owner recognized and greeted him, when he entered the small shop.

“Welcome, sir. Sit where you like. Would you like tea or coffee?”

Malik replied, “Tea.”

The shabby room was empty of customers and had three battered looking computers on a table against one wall. He sat down in front of one of them. The computer was already turned on and he logged onto the Yahoo account he used to communicate with the Malaysian. It had been a week since he had last read and replied to the Malaysian's emails. Three unread emails awaited him.

He opened the first.

The family is busy making final preparations to visit you. They are looking forward to the journey and especially reaching their destination. I will purchase the tickets immediately I receive your confirmation you are ready for them.

bapa

The second message read.

All preparations are complete and the family is ready to leave on their journey.

Contact us as soon as possible.

bapa

The third message read.

I am concerned we have not heard from you. I hope an accident hasn't befallen you. Please contact your family as soon as possible.

bapa

Malik had yet to make his arrangements for picking up the people the Malaysian was sending. A group of strangers in one of these small towns would attract attention and people would remember who picked them up. Normally, it wouldn't matter because no one would come asking, but in this case they would and he needed to make sure he wasn't seen with them.

There was a secluded jetty about ten kilometers outside of town he sometimes used, but he had yet to make an arrangement with the people who owned it. He would have to call in there on the way back.

Malik typed a single response to all three messages

I am well and look forward to entertaining the visitors. I have arranged a comfortable place for them to stay, but still need to complete some arrangements. I will be ready to receive them by tomorrow. When they arrive, they should ask for Wahid, the driver, and he will provide transport to where I am waiting.

kawan

Malik sipped his tea and waited for a response. The Malaysian was normally good at ensuring a prompt reply.

He wondered once again if working for the Malaysian was worth the risk, even though Malik had brought the plan to the Malaysian in the first place.

He knew early on, in his dealings with Wang that he wouldn't go through with the final stage of the plan. Being paid for pirate attacks was good business. Executing the plan's final stage was just not worth the risk. It would attract the attention of the authorities in a way that pirate attacks wouldn't. Malik thought Wang a fool for even imagining he would go through with the final stage.

However, it was a good plan and Wang had provided all the equipment needed to execute the plan. The businessman in him knew he had a valuable commodity, too valuable to let it go to waste. It was just a matter of finding a customer who wanted to buy what he had to sell.

It didn't take him long to decide that the Malaysian was his best prospective customer. His intention was to sell the plan and the equipment as a package to the Malaysian and walk away counting his profit on the deal.

The Malaysian was interested, but as they discussed the details and negotiated the price, through a series of phone calls on anonymous disposable phones, it quickly became clear to Malik that the plan and the equipment weren't enough. The Malaysian didn't have people familiar with handling small boats, never mind boarding ships at sea. The Malaysian couldn't execute the plan without the help of someone like him.

Malik realized that the plan and equipment were worth a lot more, if he managed its execution. He knew the Strait and had a team of people skilled in piracy operations.

If he did become involved in executing the plan, the Malaysian would need to pay him a lot more than Wang was offering. He would also need somewhere safe to hide out for an extended period. Malik got the Malaysian to agree to his price, but he delayed finally agreeing to participate until he had found a good hiding place. The delay increasing angered the Malaysian, but otherwise did Malik no harm, as the Malaysian increased his offer again before Malik finally agreed.

As the time to execute the plan got closer, he could see the magnitude of the risk he was taking and not just to himself. Malik wondered if it was too late to pull out the deal. But, he needed the money to get himself out of his current situation, and he was afraid of what the Malaysian would do if he did pull out. When Malik was in Aceh, he had heard how the Malaysian had sent an assassin after one man who tried to betray him. The Malaysian knew where to find Malik, while Malik knew nothing of the Malaysian's whereabouts.

He would do this job, get his family to safety, then use the money he would make to drop out of sight for a couple of years.

The new message icon flashed on the screen. Malik clicked on it and read the email.

We are relieved you are still well and ready for the family's arrival. I will send them on their way today. Expect them tomorrow at eleven am Ensure the driver is waiting for them as they are not familiar with your town.

I pray their visit with you is fruitful, Inshallah.

bapa

Malik typed his response.

The driver will be there to meet them at the time you mention. I will take them on the holiday I promised. And God willing, they will reach their final destination.

kawan

He logged out of his email account and went to pay.

Outside he decided what to do next. He needed to get two boats to the secluded estuary where he would pick up the group by noon tomorrow. He also needed to make sure Wahid was waiting for them when they arrived tomorrow morning. If no one was waiting for them, the men might do something that would draw attention to themselves. Finally, he had to make arrangements with the jetty owner.

He stepped into a doorway and quickly counted how much money he had with him. Not enough to pay Wahid for the transportation. He would promise to pay him the rest tomorrow out of the money the Malaysian would send. Malik headed for the coffee shop where he normally found Wahid.

The coffee shop's proprietor told Malik that Wahid was out on a job, but he would be back in a couple of hours. Malik ordered coffee and sat in the rear of the shop to wait.

He looked at his watch. It was almost noon. He reached into his pocket, took out the mobile phone that Wang had given him and switched it on.

A couple of minutes later the phone beeped and he saw he had a text message. It read 'This is a test. Please confirm receipt'.

Malik typed, 'Message received,' and sent the confirmation.

He looked down at the prepaid mobile phone and realized he wouldn't need it anymore. It would be a shame to let those unused credits go to waste. He dialed a number and waited while it rang. No one answered. He hoped that meant they had left already.

***

Malik saw Wahid enter the restaurant and speak to the proprietor at the cash register, presumably to ask if there were any messages for him. The proprietor pointed at Malik.

Wahid came over and greeted him. “I haven't seen you in a while. I thought you had moved away or perhaps found a new line of business.”

Malik replied, “My business has kept me busy, but I need you to do a job for me tomorrow around midday.”

“I already have a job at that time.”

“It will take you less than two hours and I'll make it worth your while.”

“What's the job?”

“Pick up eight people from the eleven am bus and deliver them to that small jetty on Lumpur creek.”

“Three hundred thousand, plus an extra fifty thousand if I have to wait for you.”

Wahid knew Malik was a smuggler and assumed he was going to smuggle the men across to Malaysia. People smuggling was a big and profitable business in the area and many people were involved. Prices were always higher to transport the people because there was some small risk involved, and besides the job was at short notice.

Malik knew the price was high, but didn't want to negotiate and give Wahid the chance to back out and force him to make other arrangements.

Malik said, “OK, but I'll be there so you won't need to wait. I'll give you a hundred thousand now and the rest tomorrow at the pickup.”

Wahid offered his hand to seal the deal.

Malik paid Wahid the deposit, then left the coffee shop. Out on the street, he saw a garbage can, half-full of an oily liquid. He dropped the mobile phone into it. Malik knew that he was now committed and Wang was no longer relevant.

He walked back down to the jetty, where the other man was waiting in their boat.

Malik said, “Things took a little longer than I planned, and we still have to go to Lumpur creek.”

The man grumbled that the trip was taking longer than Malik said it would. Malik promised him an extra payment for the time.

Forty minutes later, they slowly motored up the muddy waters of the aptly named Lumpur creek, and the dilapidated wooden jetty came into view.

The jetty was a favored collection point for people smugglers and used on a regular basis. Like many things in Indonesia, an extended family owned and operated the jetty. Its main attraction, apart from being close to the open waters of the Strait, was family members watched the track that gave the only land access to the dock. Should the authorities come down the track, there would be ample time to get away by boat.

Malik climbed onto the short jetty and walked toward a small house set back from the creek and surrounded by Rambutan trees, their bright red fruit almost ripe. There was a muddy and rutted area in front of the house clearly used by many turning vehicles.

An older man Malik didn't recognize was sitting outside the house. Two young children played in the dirt beside him.

Malik said, “I need to use your jetty for a pick up tomorrow at noon.”

“Who are you?”

Malik thought the man seemed mentally slow. He decided to keep things short and to the point.

“My name is Malik. I have used your jetty before. Call Supraman. He will say it's OK.”

The man got up, went inside the house and came back talking on a walkie-talkie radio. Malik heard his name, the time he had said and then the figure of three hundred thousand, before the man said, “Three hundred thousand.”

“I'll pay you tomorrow.”

The man made no response and Malik assumed it was agreed.

***

Commander Braddock picked up his phone on the second ring.

“Commander, it's Bob. You said to call you immediately if the data mining software came up with anything else. Well, it's come up with another set of emails to the same email address received and sent from the same town and after a boat arrived from that same beach on Palau Nua Island.”

“What do the emails say?”

“More stuff about a family visit, which looks like it is going to happen tomorrow. Maybe a proper translation will tell us more.”

“Sorry, Bob There is no possibility of a translation in the next few days. We only have two Bahasa Indonesian translators and one of them just quit. Is there anything else?”

“There is one other thing. The surveillance equipment that's only working intermittently picked up an SMS yesterday that appears to have been sent from the same town as the emails and just an hour later. What's interesting is the same phone was used just over a week ago to call a number in Singapore that has been flagged as having North Korean connections.”

“What did the message say?”

“'Message received.' It was in response to an SMS received on the same mobile phone that said, 'This is a test. Please confirm receipt.'”

“Where was the first message sent from?”

“The routing information says Singapore.”

“Any idea what it means?”

“I think the message is what it appears to be, a test of their communications. It's too short to have any hidden coded meaning. ”

“What was said in the phone call a week ago?”

“We don't know. Before we installed that surveillance equipment, all we got was billing information, which is the phone making the call, the number called and the duration. All I can tell you is that the call was short, just a couple of seconds.”

Bob continued, “The only other thing is immediately after the confirmation message was sent, the same phone was used to call a number in Medan. No one answered and we have nothing on the number called, except that it's in the name of a Madam Walandari. That's it, Commander. I wouldn't have bothered you, except you said to let you know if anything else came up.”

“Thanks, Bob. It's your job to find this stuff. It's my job to decide whether it's important or not.”

Braddock considered what to do with the new information. The North Korean connection to the pirates in the Malacca Strait was solid and had generated interest all the way to the top. As a result, he got the authorization to install the covert surveillance equipment immediately. He now had further confirmation of the North Korean connection.

The connection to Jemaah Islamiyah was altogether weaker and, as Bob had said, if it wasn't for the North Korean connection, they would have discarded the information as probably spurious.

Braddock had to decide how likely was it that a group of small-time pirates was involved with the North Koreans and violent Islamic extremists at the same time.

The North Korean connection was easy to explain. They would sell anything to anyone if there was enough money in the deal to make it worth their while. He had no problem believing they were in the illicit arms or drug smuggling business.

The connection to Jemaah Islamiyah was harder to explain. Jemaah Islamiyah's modus operandi was terrorist bombings against western targets. He had checked out the area the pirates were operating in, along the coast of Sumatra. There were no resorts or western owned hotels. The area's most noteworthy feature was one of the world's largest tracts of peat forest.

Braddock had never seen a tropical peat forest, but from the description he had read, it sounded a lot like the Okefenokee Swamp, and its flooded forests along the coast of his native Georgia. The area would attract only the hardiest of foreign tourists and then only in small numbers.

The only western targets would be on the other side of the Strait in Malaysia and Singapore, or the ships transiting the Strait. He made a mental note to check if any cruise ships were due in the next week or so.

If the connection to Jemaah Islamiyah through the email address was good and the 'family visit' referred to terrorist operatives, then it looked like something was going to happen in the next few days in the Malacca Strait, and he should recommend issuing a terrorism alert for the area.

On the other hand, the SMS message and the phone call confirmed the North Korean connection, and the SMS clearly indicated nothing was planned in the next few days.

The connection between the North Koreans and Jemaah Islamiyah relied on a single SMS sent from the same town, on the same day as emails that might suggest a Jemaah Islamiyah planned an operation. Far too tenuous a connection to say Jemaah Islamiyah was involved in a terrorist operation with the North Koreans.

Braddock sat back and tried to decide what he should do. The big problem with data mining was, it created many leads that for one reason or another didn't pan out, or that resulted from connections that had an innocent cause. There was something of a backlash against data mining, for exactly those reasons.

If he issued an alert for a possible terrorist attack by Jemaah Islamiyah in the Malacca Strait, it would probably be a false alarm based on a spurious connection. The family visit discussed was exactly that, a harmless family get-together.

If the connection was real and he didn't issue an alert, then perhaps a serious terrorist incident would succeed against an unprepared target.

His team had a big win on the board by proving North Korean involvement in maritime piracy. They now had further confirmation of the North Korean connection. Why spoil it, by issuing an alert about an Islamic terrorist attack, which would likely turn out to be a false alarm.

Commander Braddock decided to wait twenty four hours to see what further information came from the data mining operation. He pushed aside the feeling, he had avoided making the real decision.

Chapter 24