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  “You should have told me, Lei. You should have leveled with me. Why did you keep it secret? Why? I had a right to know.”

  Chapter Twenty-four

  On the coast in the vicinity of

  Torres de Alcala, Morocco

  Thursday, December 9, 2005

  5:25 p.m.

  Tyler called Hacker immediately. He feared his news would stretch his credibility beyond belief. But he was giving them two thousand reasons to arrest Wu. He had personally witnessed the drug deal and had the pictures to prove it. And he had evidence of a grave terrorist risk.

  He left a message telling Hacker all he knew about Abdul without being specific about his source. He passed on Sunny’s tip that Abdul was an al-Shabaab operative. He warned Hacker that Abdul had just taken possession of crates he described in detail. With reservations about being disbelieved but equally concerned about withholding important intelligence, he speculated the crates contained the latest Chinese shoulder-fired missiles. He also passed along Sunny’s information about the missiles’ origin.

  Tyler believed the information fitted with everything else he knew. Turning to his friends, Tyler said, “OK, we’ve done our job here. Let’s disappear before our pursuers, who I suppose are Abdul’s guys, find us. It’ll be easier to hire a car in the village if we get there before dark.”

  Neither responded. “Don’t you see we must?” Tyler asked impatiently.

  “Couldn’t we figure out some way to delay them like Sunny wants. Otherwise they might get away,” Little Bo noted.

  “How can we do that?”

  “I don’t know, Sidi Tyler, but we can’t run away without thinking about it.”

  “I agree.” Lei was glad she had an ally.

  “Do you two think I’d throw in the towel without having thought about it? Do you think we’re running away for no reason? Well, do you? Come on, guys. After all we’ve been through.” He shook his head in disbelief. “You know as well as I do I’ve racked my mind, and believe me if I had come up with a reasonable alternative, I’d suggest it. But there’s no way we can delay anyone. Look at the facts. We are three. No, make it two and a half because Lei can hardly walk. And they have more than a dozen men, all of whom have access to weapons. What would we be able to do against that many armed men? Any ideas, you guys? Well, any ideas.”

  His friends sat silently. He ran his hands over his head as he wondered how he could persuade them that they had no choice but to flee to safety without wasting more time.

  “If that prison still had cannons, we could blow those boats out of the water. Kaboom, kaboom,” Little Bo mimicked a cannon being shot. “If we had a cannon, we could sink them.”

  Little Bo’s comment brought to Tyler’s mind the image of a sinking boat, and that rang a bell. He was having another of those sudden brainstorms. Because the “call Hacker on the speakerphone” brainstorm was such a disaster, he ran a hand over his head and thought for a full half minute before saying anything. Was his idea insane?

  “I know of a way to sink a boat without using a cannon.” His friends perked up immediately. “Don’t get your hopes up, guys. But I once was out on a motor boat- nothing that big,” he started, pointing at the Infidel and Alexander. “But also an inboard.” He could tell from their looks they weren’t familiar with that term. “Inboard motor boats have their engines completely inside the hull unlike outboard motor boats that have their motors mounted outside on the stern.

  “We were out on the Mississippi River just cruising around and having a good time when the engine quit. We tried to restart it, but no luck.” Unsure whether he ought to continue, Tyler paused to run his hands over his head again. He warned his companions again not to get their hopes up. He was just thinking out loud.

  “I knew nothing about boats or engines. I had no idea what was wrong. The boat owner crawled into the engine compartment. When he came out, he was greasy and soaking wet, and we all laughed at him. But the first thing he said was for us all to put on life vests. No one took him seriously. But he insisted he wasn’t joking.

  “He explained we were sinking, and he couldn’t do anything about it. He said the engine compartment was flooding, and he couldn’t stop the water.

  “We radioed for help and stayed aboard as long as we could, but in fifteen minutes the stern was almost underwater. To our astonishment we had to abandon ship. A passing boat fished us out. When the authorities salvaged the boat and inspected it, they discovered the hose carrying river water to cool the engine had come off and that water had just poured into the engine compartment. They blamed the owner for not noticing the engine overheating and not reattaching the hose before the engine compartment flooded.”

  Lei and Little Bo looked confused. So he connected the dots. “If those boats out there have water-cooled engines, they must have hoses for sea water to cool their engines. And if those hoses are detached, they’ll flood with sea water, just like that boat did in the Mississippi. And without cooling water their engines will overheat and seize up. So they’ll stop running, and eventually they’ll sink if the hoses aren’t reattached.”

  Lei seemed pleased, but Little Bo looked doubtful.

  “So are you suggesting we try to sink them?”

  “No, I didn’t suggest anything.”

  “But Sidi Tyler, we don’t have to sink them. You said the engines will stop. That will delay them, not so?”

  “Yes, the engines will seize up when they get so hot they burn up their lubricating oil unless someone repairs it in time. But how do you make the leak and how do you stop the crew from repairing the leak?”

  No one had answers to either problem.

  Chapter Twenty-five

  On the coast in the vicinity of

  Torres de Alcala, Morocco

  Thursday, December 9, 2005

  5:43 p.m.

  Tyler heard optimism in the voices of Lei and Little Bo, but he shared none of it. First, he’d have to get aboard undetected. Then with no idea of the layout he’d have to locate and enter the engine room, again undetected, and he’d have to detach the water hoses with no tools.

  If he succeeded in detaching the hoses, the engine would heat up, running hotter and hotter. But an alert captain would notice the rising temperature on the bridge’s control panel and send crew to check it out. So he’d have to keep the crew out of the engine room. He’d have to barricade himself in, eliminating his chance to escape, and he would go down with the boat. It was a suicide mission.

  The heat of the day had eased with the evening tide, but the chill Tyler felt came from inside. He put on his djellaba and wrapped his arms around himself.

  “Little Bo, I’d like to tell you I can definitely make a leak, but I can’t because I don’t know if I can.” A shadow crossed Little Bo’s face. “For starters, I don’t know if their engines are even water-cooled. I’m no mechanic, and there are probably lots of ways to disable their engines even if they’re not water-cooled. But I don’t know what they are.”

  He paused before explaining more. He felt drained by having been beaten, sleeping little, eating less, and having trekked fifty kilometers overland.

  “I was just on a boat that sank. That’s all. That’s all I know.” His head throbbed. It was too much for him.

  Lei moved closer to his side. Wrapping her arms around him in silence and fading sunlight, she rocked him. Little Bo crawled over and wrapped his short arms around both of them. The trio rocked back and forth, joined as one in spirit and body. Tyler closed his eyes. “Hey, who’s minding the store?” he asked as he snapped back to attention. Little Bo turned back toward the boats, but Lei held on.

  “What are the chances you can stop the engines?”

  “Not very good.” His voice was flat, matter-of-fact. Gone was the braggadocio with which he proposed the mahjong game against Hung Ho.

  “Even if th
e engines don’t use water, aren’t there other ways to stop them?”

  “I’m sure there are. There must be wires and stuff I could cut or rip off.”

  She brightened, but he didn’t. “The problem is that doing minor damage won’t stop the engine. And the crew will fix whatever minor problem I cause, and so I have to stop the crew from performing repairs.”

  “But how will you escape if you are locked in the engine room?” Little Bo asked.

  His eyes locked with Little Bo’s. “That’s a problem I haven’t solved yet. If I make a try, I’ve no idea what’ll happen. Maybe I can hold out until the authorities arrive.”

  “But you don’t even know if the authorities will ever come and how will they even know where you are?” Little Bo pointed out.

  Tyler said nothing but raised his eyebrows.

  “Which boat are you thinking of sinking?” asked Little Bo.

  “Wu’s, of course,” Lei answered. She shot Little Bo a menacing look before looking to Tyler for confirmation.

  “I don’t know to be honest.”

  “What?” After all this? Listen, we came here after Wu. And we have him. We can’t let him go now.”

  She spoke so loudly Little Bo checked to see if the men on the shore had heard her. She searched Tyler’s face, as if she was trying to discern a clue why he had delivered such shocking news.

  “Tyler, we have risked our lives to catch Wu. Now we have the chance to delay him until the authorities arrive. If his boat won’t work, he can’t flee. He will be caught with all that hashish. Sunny called it a ‘golden opportunity.’ And he is right. You even agreed. Listen to a wise man.”

  She paused. “I will understand if you don’t want to try. You don’t have to, Tyler. We can flee right now. We’ll find another way to get enough incriminating information to convince Hacker whose side Niko is on. Then Hacker will free him. But…”

  Lei sat up straight, pulled her shoulders back and lifted her chin. She focused her eyes and steadied her voice. Her face darkened like clouds before a storm. She paused even longer to gather her greatest strength. When she finally spoke, it sounded ominous. “Tyler, you gave me and my granduncle your solemn word. We never asked for it. You vowed to do everything humanly possible to help my brother. Now, it might not be humanly possible to delay Wu. I leave that decision up to you. If you think it is hopeless, then we can leave here right now.

  “But so help me, if you break your word and turn your back on my brother to chase that bloody Muslim terrorist instead, then…” Her voice had risen in pitch and volume with each word. Their eyes followed her one quick motion.

  She spit on the ground right at his feet.

  Chapter Twenty-six

  On the coast in the vicinity of

  Torres de Alcala, Morocco

  Thursday, December 9, 2005

  6:04 p.m.

  Tyler’s throbbing headache hurt as he went to check on the two men he’d trussed together like a chicken ready for the oven. They would soon be missed, and a search for them could easily discover their surveillance spot, their crow’s nest. The trio had to act soon. But he had to think. His companions were waiting anxiously for his decision. Were they all going to flee to safety, or would he send them to safety while he tried to delay one of the yachts? And if he chose to try to delay a yacht, would it be Wu or Abdul?

  Fleeing now gave them the best chance for all three to get out safely. Tyler was confident Hacker would find their evidence of Wu’s real-time location sufficient to disprove Niko’s complicity in the Pengs’ operations. But Hacker hadn’t actually said so. Sunny had made a good point, noting Hacker preferred Wu in custody. Pictures weren’t equivalent. If the authorities weren’t able to arrest Wu, Hacker wouldn’t get what he wanted more. Hacker might even view letting Wu escape was intentional.

  Tyler considered Abdul first. He focused on the crates. Sunny’s inside source believed they held missiles, perfect for wreaking havoc on commercial aviation. Letting Abdul escape on the Infidel might lead to a 9-11 scale catastrophe. So he concluded to allow Abdul’s yacht to sail would put many thousands innocent people’s lives at risk.

  Going after Abdul and letting Wu escape would certainly lose him the Changs’ trust and a big chunk of his fee. But the only way to keep Wu from escaping would be to delay the Alexander and to let the Infidel sail away with missiles that would terrorize the world.

  He walked through the scrub bushes to the place where he had left Lei’s abductors. But the men had vanished. Did they get loose? How could they do that? But where are they? I left them right here. On the verge of panic he stuck his head over the cliff’s edge, craning his neck to see down to the rocks below, supposing it was possible they had rolled off the cliff. The rocks at the base of the cliff were already in the sinking sun’s shadow. But he could see a dark securely bound bundle on the rocks. This time he was certain the men were dead. I guess my better angels took care of it. Good riddance.

  He returned to Lei and Little Bo. They turned toward him expectantly. “I’m going to try to disable the yacht while you guys skedaddle to the village. If I wasn’t confident you would reach the village safely, I wouldn’t let you go.” Lei and Little Bo each hugged an arm. “I’ll be fine.” No one believed him. “Leave everything here but the gun, your exposed film and the phone.”

  Lei looked up at him and started to say something. She stopped and just held his face in her hands. She studied it as if committing it to memory. She locked her eyes with his. A wave of emotion swept over him, not of sadness for his present dilemma but of regret for the future joys he would miss. He turned his head and admonished Little Bo, “Don’t forget the pistol.”

  “Yes, Sidi Tyler, I won’t forget it.”

  “Call Hacker at eight p.m. sharp, and if he’s not in, call back every fifteen minutes until someone answers. Explain what’s going on. Wait until you’re speaking with an attorney to go into the details. Tell them to check Hacker’s messages immediately. Make sure they know every minute counts. It’s all there on Hacker’s machine. Call Sunny too. I want them both to know what’s happening. Tell them where I’m going.”

  She nodded her head and looked down, stuffing her camera equipment into her backpack.

  “All right. Let’s go. No time to waste.” His companions didn’t stir, and a long moment passed before Lei voiced the question on both of their minds. “Which one are you going after?”

  He looked Lei straight in the eyes. “Abdul’s.” He knew she would never accept it. She sucked in a shallow breath and then started to speak. But he cut her off. “There’s nothing to be said. I’ve made my decision. I couldn’t live with myself if those weapons got in the wrong hands, and I hadn’t tried to stop it. I’ve got an ethical duty to Niko and your family. But I’ve got a moral duty to save thousands of lives.” She sat mute, looking up at him. He held her gaze. “Sorry, that’s how I see it.” Then he climbed up off the ledge.

  Little Bo extended a hand to help Lei up. “Sidi Tyler, do not worry. We shall be safe soon. Enshallah.”

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  On the coast in the vicinity of

  Torres de Alcala, Morocco

  Thursday, December 9, 2005

  6:34 p.m.

  As the trio left the ledge they had used as their crow’s nest, Tyler checked out the Infidel, now pointed into the prevailing easterly wind because the tide had ebbed. As a soft breeze blew in, he recalled the I Ching’s words with the Inner Truth hexagram: “gentle wind across the joyous water.” Tyler didn’t lie to himself. He hoped the yachts would weigh anchor before he could launch his suicide mission.

  As the trio left the ledge, Tyler drew the Colt .45 and handed it to Little Bo. Because Lei couldn’t move very fast, she led the single-file procession through the scrub bushes. When they neared the road, they stopped and crouched to go over their next moves. Tyler planne
d on entering the sea at the stream where they had refreshed that afternoon, and he would walk with them until that point.

  Little Bo was the first to rise. When Tyler saw his face register alarm, he spun around without rising. Before Little Bo could aim his pistol, another pair of Abdul’s men pointed their assault rifles at them. Little Bo dropped his weapon.

  “Shit,” Tyler swore. “Keep sharp. When one moves, all move,” he alerted his companions. One of their captors spun with a roundhouse kung-fu kick to his head. He instinctively leaned away and turned his head to lessen the impact. The kick toppled him over but hardly hurt.

  The men picked up Little Bo’s pistol and marched the trio down the road. Tyler feared they were about to shoot them. But the men prodded them toward the Citroen van, parked a short distance away. They had probably been guarding it. The men conversed as they herded them toward the dreadful future awaiting them. Tyler wished he could understand what they were saying. But he knew Little Bo was listening. He bided his time.

  When they were ten meters from the Citroen van, Tyler stopped, feigned a coughing fit, doubled up and asked Little Bo, “Where are they taking us?”

  “The farm,” Little Bo mimicked Tyler. Their guards neared the coughing, bent-over men, and as they closed, Lei broke away. Even though she could never escape given her injured ankle, both guards leveled their weapons at her. When they did, Tyler and Little Bo jumped on them. Little Bo pushed his captor’s rifle down, pointing at the ground. Round after round tore up the road as Little Bo’s captor squeezed the trigger. They spun around together in a circle amidst a growing cloud of gun smoke and road dust as if they were doing a folk dance. Lei crawled out of the way of flying clumps of road dirt.

  Tyler struck the other man’s weapon so hard with an uppercut it would have flown over his head if its strap hadn’t been loosely over the man’s shoulder. The barrel smashed into his face. Tyler dropped him to his knees with a hard punch to his solar plexus, knocking the air out of him. The man wrapped his arms around his body, struggling to breathe. His eyes protruded like golf balls, and his gaping mouth tried futilely to take in air.