‘That guy with the tattoos. Those weren’t just any tattoos. I’ve seen them before. I just couldn’t remember till now. It was back in ’05. We were doing some anti-terrorism drills in Jakarta, and we had a couple of local liaisons to work with. I remember one guy having all the same tattoos. He’d told us about them, but I still can’t remember what the hell he said. It was Jakarta, though.’
Ross dug out his phone and called Diaz. ‘The driver with the tattoos. They’re Indonesian. See what you can get on them. Specifics. And I need it yesterday.’
‘Shit, I’ll have it for you last week.’ Diaz winked and broke the link.
With a rising pulse, Ross called their old buddy Maziq from the ISA and put in a request for a list of every ship that had left Massawa and Aden, along with all their destinations. Maziq said he’d establish the search parameters and get back to him ASAP.
‘Sir, you think we got a lead here?’ asked Pepper.
‘Hell, yeah, I do. The way you beat these guys is through their mistakes. The little things they overlook.’
Ross clicked on the pictures Kozak had taken of the driver. The guy had been wearing that sleeveless T-shirt so they could see how the tattoos came in black lines down the center of his neck, across his Adam’s apple, then spanned his shoulders like an oversize necklace. More lines ran vertically down his arms and across the backs of his hands, while rings encompassed his wrists.
Oliver, who’d been listening to them from his own computer station, lifted his voice. ‘I’ve heard back from one of my contacts down at the terminal. The driver’s name was Shihab. He was a foreman there, but he’d only been working for about three months. He handled special deliveries and didn’t talk with anyone. He might’ve stayed at a private residence while he was here since my contacts at the hotels don’t show any registry under his name, nor have any of them seen him. With those tattoos, he’d be fairly memorable.’
‘Thanks for that, Oliver,’ said Ross. ‘And I’m telling you, I think this guy’s the key.’
‘I don’t know,’ said 30K from the sofa. ‘Yeah, you’re right about beating these guys through their mistakes, but how did they screw up? I mean, the missiles are gone and we’re sitting here …’
Ross held up an index finger. ‘You just wait. And I’ll show you.’
FIFTY-FOUR
A piece of debris must’ve struck Kozak’s shoulder blade during the explosion, because he had a welt the size of a grapefruit forming there. He stood in front of the bathroom mirror, strangely fascinated by the wound. After a moment, he rinsed his face and frowned over the commotion coming from the living room. He ventured outside to find everyone huddled around Ross’s computer, with Diaz’s face appearing in one window, Mitchell’s in another. Diaz was glancing offscreen, scanning a report:
‘Those tattoos are Mentawai from Sumatra, Indonesia,’ she explained. ‘They come in three phases. The first takes place during childhood, at eleven or twelve, with tattoos beginning on the upper arms. The second happens at eighteen or nineteen, when they get tattoos on their thighs. The third and final phase occurs when someone is fully grown. What interests me the most are the tattoos on your driver’s wrists.’
Ross nodded. ‘They look newer, don’t they?’
‘Yeah, they do. Maybe a few weeks, maybe just a month ago, suggesting that he’s been there recently.’
‘Suggesting that maybe they recruited him from that area,’ said Ross. ‘And he’s been coming back and forth.’
‘You could be right,’ said Diaz.
Another window opened on Ross’s laptop, and now Maziq had joined the call. ‘Hello there, Captain. I have the information you requested — all the ships that left both Massawa and Aden after the Ocean Cavalier arrived. I used a six-hour window. But I have to tell you, the list is pretty long. I count seventeen vessels between both ports.’
‘Are any of those ships headed for Sumatra, Singapore or Malaysia?’ Ross asked.
‘Checking.’
‘Ross, I admire your tenacity, but this is a long shot,’ said Mitchell.
‘I know that, sir, but if you’ll just give me a chance. I’m confident they recruited this guy out of Sumatra.’
‘This is interesting,’ Diaz said. ‘About three months ago, Saif Hamid was spotted in Singapore before we lost him. The sighting has been confirmed, so he was definitely in the neighborhood.’
‘I’ve got three ships all headed in that general vicinity,’ said Maziq. ‘Two out of Massawa, but this one looks like your best bet. She’s a Panamanian-registered bulk carrier, Duman. She arrived in Aden at 0623 local time and pulled out at 1420. If the weapons were transferred to another container, they could’ve been off-loaded to the container yard in Aden and just sat there until Duman arrived.’
‘That’s exactly what happened,’ Ross said.
‘Duman’s not scheduled to arrive in Singapore for another eleven days.’
‘Eleven days?’ asked Pepper.
Maziq frowned. ‘She weighs thirty-six thousand tons, and her max speed is only twelve knots.’
‘What’re you complaining about?’ said 30K. ‘That’ll give you plenty of time to heal up.’
‘Ms Diaz? Maziq? Thank you for the intel,’ said Mitchell. ‘We’re in your debt. Now if you don’t mind, I need to speak to Captain Ross.’
‘No problem, sir,’ said Diaz. ‘Good to see you again.’
‘You, too.’
‘I’m here if you need me,’ said Maziq before his comm window vanished.
Mitchell waited a moment, then cleared his throat. ‘Captain, you might be on to something, but I have to say … I’ve still got a lot of reservations. Let me gather a little more intel, and I’ll get back to you. In the meantime, your evac is still on the way.’
‘Thank you, sir,’ said Ross. ‘We look forward to hearing from you soon.’ He ended the link and glanced up at Kozak. ‘We’re not walking away.’
Kozak sighed with relief. ‘Hell, no, sir.’
The next morning Ross and the others were driven to the airport by Oliver. Before they boarded the Gulf Stream jet that Mitchell had sent for them, they said their good-byes to the old man, who pulled Ross aside. ‘You lost someone close to you, which is why you asked about my daughter. The pain is who you are …’
Ross would not allow the burning sensation behind his eyes to go any further. He nodded and hurried away.
By the time the jet left the ground, Ross had learned that Mitchell had put in a request with the Navy to have one of their littoral combat ships (LCS) intercept and shadow the Duman from just over the horizon.
‘Are we still on mission?’ he asked the major, who stared back at him from a window on Ross’s laptop.
A smile nicked the corners of Mitchell’s mouth. ‘What do you think?’
FIFTY-FIVE
Ten days later, on a moonlit night at 1930 hours, Ross and his men were shielding their eyes from the rotor wash of a CH-53 Sea Stallion heavy lift transport helicopter landing at Paya Lebar Air Base in eastern Singapore. The base was used by many flying units of the US Navy and Air Force as a refueling stopover and staging post/transit point, and it was also the permanent home of the 497th Combat Training Squadron, which provided operational and logistical support to US Air Force fighters currently training with the Republic of Singapore Air Force.
The Sea Stallion was operated by a crew of four: pilot, copilot, crew chief, and an aerial observer, but it was the crew chief who waved them inside while he and the observer supervised the loading of a crate the size of a Volkswagen Beetle up the chopper’s rear ramp.