"Chester Darrow, sir. Ghailiani says he's been shot!"
"Sweet Christ Jesus! Give me that!" He took the handset from Vandergrift. "Ghailiani? This is the Captain."
"Y-yes, sir." The man's voice sounded weak over the phone, almost dull, as if he was dazed, or in shock.
"What the devil happened?"
"We're not sure, sir. Mr. Darrow was checking provisions into the aft A Deck cargo hold. I came down here to check something, and found him on the pier, dead."
"You said he's been shot?"
"Yes, sir. Several times, sir. In the chest."
This had to be some sort of sick joke. Please let it be a joke! he thought. "Ghailiani, if this is some kind of prank — "
"No, sir! It's not! Darrow's dead! There's blood everywhere — "
"Where are you?"
"On the pier. Just opposite the A Deck cargo gangway. There's a big green Dumpster there? We found him between the Dumpster and the main warehouse wall."
"Okay. Stay there. Don't let anyone touch the body. The police will be down there soon."
"Yes, sir."
Several thoughts and emotions battled one another in Phillips' mind. One of his men murdered! Who was the killer? A member of the crew? Or someone ashore? Had anyone seen what had happened?
Phillips didn't know Darrow well. The man had only joined the Queen a month ago. Phillips would have to check with Personnel to see if the man had any family.
He would have to write a letter, at the very least. Oh, God…
Other, more selfishly motivated thoughts crowded in, jostling with the others. Could the incident be kept from the passengers? And, even more critically, would the murder prevent the Atlantis Queen from sailing on schedule?
Like a hotel, a cruise ship depended on filling available vacancies with paying customers. If the Atlantis Queen was kept in port by a police investigation, people would start canceling their reservations, and passengers already aboard might begin making other plans for their tightly structured vacations — and demanding refunds.
With the economy the way it was right now, a company like Royal Sky Line could go under with the failure of a single cruise — the profit margin was that slim.
A small and unworthy part of him was already wondering if the death could be covered up, at least until the ship was out of port… but he shoved the thought viciously aside. No, they would play this by the book.
He began punching numbers into the handset. First he would call Sir Charles Mayhew, the member of the board of directors who was Operations Director for the Atlantis Queen and Phillips' boss.
And then he would call the police.
Ghailiani snapped his cell phone shut. "It's… it's done," he managed. He felt weak, on the verge of falling over. His initial terror was being submerged in a paralyzing numbness that made it hard to think, hard to know what to think.
They were within the narrow, deep-shadowed corridor between the Dumpster and the wall of the warehouse.
Ghailiani was leaning against the wall, trying to keep from falling as his knees trembled. Yusef Khalid squatted in front of him, crouched over the body. Two of Khalid's men stood guard in the sunlight outside.
ft had happened so quickly! Khalid's men had materialized out of Allah-knew-where almost at once — members of the ship's deck gang, Ghailiani thought. Dock wallopers, tough, hard-looking men who'd been helping to shift stores on board the ship. Careful to stay in the shelter offered by the back of the truck, they'd dragged poor Darrow's body out and bundled it around into the narrow alley behind the Dumpster.
He'd also seen them produce a briefcase from inside the truck's cab, which they'd tossed into the Dumpster.
None of this was making sense.
"Are they sending someone down here?" Khalid demanded. He'd removed Darrow's wallet from his hip pocket. At first, Ghailiani assumed Khalid was robbing the dead man… but no, apparently he was stuffing something inside.
Khalid was wearing nylon medical gloves.
"He.. the captain just said to stay with the… with the body," Ghailiani managed to say. "He said the police would be here soon. Allah! The police!…"
"Calm yourself, Ghailiani," Khalid told him. "You are doing well."
"You didn't tell me you were going to kill him!"
"That is correct. I did not."
"You're going to take the ship." Ghailiani was on the verge of tears. He felt like he was going to be terribly sick. "You're going to kill everyone on the ship!"
Khalid stood suddenly, turned, and grabbed Ghailiani's collar with one blue-gloved hand. "Listen to me, Mohamed! You have heard of al-Qaeda, yes?"
Ghailiani managed a jerky nod.
"Yes. We are going to take that ship. By arranging for the truck to get past security and onto the pier, you have helped us do so."
"You're going to blow up the ship — "
"No!" Khalid released him, then, shoving him back a foot. "No, we are not! I promise you, by the word of the Prophet, no. We intend to take that ship, yes. We will threaten to blow it up, yes.. but I promise you that we will not. The people on board are innocents, women and children, and the holy Qur'an tells us not to shed innocent blood."
Ghailiani looked down at Darrow's body. Blood continued to ooze from the chest, soaking the uniform, pooling on the concrete beneath. He'd been an innocent…
Khalid seemed to read Ghailiani's mind. "As a man, he was responsible for his actions, for ignoring the words of the Prophet. Understand? We are at war, we are engaged in holy jihad, and men will die in this war… but we will not kill the innocents on board that ship, I promise you! Do you believe me?"
"I… I don't know what to believe — "
"Then listen to this, and believe it, Mohamed Ghailiani. You have already helped us in this operation. You will continue to help us."
"I can't! — "
"You willl You can't pull back now."
"You're going to kill us all anyway!"
"I give you my word, upon the holy Qur'an and if Allah wills, that I will not. If we succeed in this, the governments of Great Britain and the United States of America will pay us one-point-five-Z million euros. Think of that, Mohamed! Two billion American dollars! And we will arrange for a small percentage of that… say, one million euros? To be transferred to a private numbered account in your name. You will be a very wealthy man."
"I don't… I don't want money — "
"If we fail, you will be arrested as a co-conspirator. They will find a record of what you have done to help us.. getting those security keys, and getting the truck past the security checkpoint."
"Please — "
"And I am certain that I don't need to remind you of your wife and daughter. If you fail us, I promise you that both Zahra and Nouzha will suffer terrible pain and terrible humiliation before they finally die. Their deaths will take a very long time. Your Zahra will be forced to watch everything we do to your daughter first. It may take a week, perhaps more. And then, when Nouzha is finally dead, we will start working on her. Do you understand me?"
For just a moment, defiance stirred within Ghailiani. "I… I thought you said you didn't hurt women and children!"
Khalid seemed to think about this for a moment. "This is war. Terrible things must be done in war. I am willing to die to see this thing through… and I am willing to shed the blood of innocents to accomplish this. We require your help, and this is how we have chosen to get it. But our goal, the goal of this mission, is to take from the governments of America and Great Britain the sum of two billion American dollars in order to finance our operations elsewhere. It will not further our goals to slaughter the people on board the ship. You must believe me on this. Help us and we accomplish our mission, you will become wealthy, and your wife and daughter will be released to you unharmed. This, God willing, I swear to you upon the word of the Prophet!