Steiner had continued on for only a short distance before the multilane Avenue de la Marina tapered off into an undivided blacktop, its streetlamps falling away, a mix of wild saw palmettos, figs, and mangroves shagging the roadsides. Peering through the brush to his left, Kealey made out a black curve of beach in the throw of the SUV’s headlights. They’d gone far enough.
“We’d better double back now,” he said. “Pull into that open-air lot. Find a space that’s dark.”
Abby glanced around at him. “Are you going to share what you intend to do afterward, or will we have to guess?”
Kealey gave her a cool look. “You asked me to lead the way on this ride,” he said. “I don’t remember hearing you lay down terms.”
“I didn’t,” she said. “But I wasn’t expecting to follow you blindly-”
“Nobody said you would.” Kealey’s tone was as controlled as his expression. “I need to figure some things out in a hurry. I also need a pair of binoculars if we’ve got them. I’ll tell you what I’m thinking when we reach the lot.”
As Abby reached into a dash compartment for the binocs, Steiner swung the SUV around in reverse, his cargo hatch pushing into the brush at the verge of the road. Then he was driving back toward the harbor.
The glasses to his eyes, Kealey looked out at the Yemaja through the SUV’s tinted windows. Three crewmen had stepped onto the deck. One was lowering the yacht’s sea stairs; another stood over the anchor winch toward the stern. The third, its pilot, was up on the flying bridge. They were preparing to set sail…and it appeared they’d be ready as soon as she was boarded.
Passing the hotel now, Steiner turned into the parking lot and rolled into one of its open spaces near the entrance, his front end facing the yacht on Kealey’s instructions. Then he cut his engine and lights.
“We’re going to hijack her,” Kealey said after a moment, his binoculars lowered.
Four pairs of eyes stared at him in utter surprise.
“What?” Abby said. She looked as if she hadn’t comprehended him.
“There are too many moving pieces,” Kealey said. “We have to simplify our part of things.”
They all continued to sit with their attention fixed on Kealey.
“I still don’t know what you mean,” Abby said.
“Then think about it,” Kealey said. “We can’t just grab Saduq on the dock and risk his friend bolting off on us. If we’re going to be sure exactly what’s going on here, we need both of them.”
“No, Kealey. You’re wrong,” said Abby. “Saduq is our link to Ismail Mirghani. And Mirghani to whoever might have-”
“You told me yourself you can’t prove anything when it comes to Saduq and the Russian arms deal,” Kealey replied. “What exactly is it you figure to do? Wave your Interpol badge in his face and politely ask him to fess up?”
“We can do more than that,” Martin said beside him.
“I’ll ask it again. What? You can’t arrest him without a warrant.”
“But we can bring him in for questioning,” Abby said.
Kealey’s grin was scathingly harsh. “I hope that was a joke. You don’t really believe he’ll talk without serious motivation.”
“Such as?” Abby asked.
“Leave that to me.”
“Kealey, we can’t just break the law and abduct those men,” Abby insisted. “ They’re the bloody thieves and bandits-”
“And this is our chance to get them rolling in the mud together,” Kealey said. “There’s nowhere on the boat they can run that can take them too far.”
She was shaking her head. “Say we go along with your idea. There are only five of us. We don’t know how many guards Saduq has back at the hotel. The same applies for the man he’s come here to meet.”
“That’s what I meant by moving parts,” Kealey said. “We take the yacht, it cuts some of those parts out of the equation. My guess is those two won’t have much company. It’s obvious they want to put distance between themselves and any possible surveillance. But their business is happening where it is to keep eyewitnesses to a minimum-and I’m betting that includes their own men.”
Abby regarded him for a long moment. “Kealey, this is absolute madness.”
“Maybe so. But call it what you want. I’m here to get the job done.” Kealey shifted in his seat to look out the rear windshield, snapped his head back around toward Abby. “It’s push time, Abby. You asked me to lead you-I didn’t offer. So do we move or head back to Yaounde for more of your custard?”
Abby was silent. She’d also glanced out the rear and seen the men leaving the hotel. After a moment she inhaled, formed a spout with her lips, expelled a stream of air. “All right. Tell us what you have in mind,” she said finally.
Leaving the Hotel Bonny Bight together, Saduq and his companion turned right, strode by the parking lot, and then walked along the edge of the quay on the Avenue de la Marina. They would have to pass six or seven other craft before they reached the Yemaja.
In the BMW’s backseat, Kealey adjusted the MP9 carbine’s concealed black carry pouch on his waist and then zipped the front of his jacket shut over its spare magazine rig.
“Ready?” he asked Abby.
She looked around from making her own preparations, nodded.
“Okay,” Kealey said. “The rest of you sit tight. And stay alert.”
He grabbed his door handle and exited the SUV, then moved to the front passenger door and opened it. Abby slipped her arm through his as she got out.
“You’re too tense,” he said in a hushed voice.
She shot him a look. “What do you expect?”
“For you to pay attention,” Kealey said. “Now loosen up so those guards don’t make us on sight.” He waited a second, felt her body relax against him. Better. “Come on, let’s walk.”
They left the parking lot and then turned up the street, strolling toward the yacht about 10 yards behind Saduq and the pirate. The press of her hip and shoulder made Kealey think of Naomi Kharmai-he would have guessed they were about the same height and weight, Abby perhaps a bit slighter. It was a reminder he neither wanted nor needed.
They continued walking along the lip of the quay. After about thirty seconds he saw Saduq ever so slightly hesitate, cast an unobtrusive glance around, then resume his steady pace beside the other man without giving them another look.
Kealey drew Abby closer and appeared to nuzzle her cheek, brushing her ear with his lips. He could feel the small bulk of his ammunition rig between them. “You see him check us out?” he murmured without slowing down.
She nodded. “What do you think?”
“We’re fine,” he said, giving her a lover’s gentle and affectionate smile.
“So, Yasir, I trust all is quiet on the waterfront?” Saduq asked one of the two guards on the quay in Arabic.
Puffing on a Djarum Black, the guard gave an affirmative nod. “ Na’am, sayyidi, ” he replied. Behind him the yacht’s sea stairs had been firmly secured to its starboard side and lowered to the dock.
Saduq stood in the warm breeze drifting off the bay, the spicy aroma of the clove cigarette mingling with the salt air. “A beautiful night is always to be savored,” he said and tilted his head toward the man and woman strolling up the street behind them. “Too bad the best of it is reserved for young lovers rather than men of our restless ambition, eh, Nicolas?”
Nicolas Barre glanced in their direction. “I hadn’t noticed them behind us.”
“Perhaps it’s because your thoughts have lingered on the blond songstress-we’re not immune to romantic impulses, after all,” Saduq said with a laugh. “Come… Let’s get aboard before you’re irresistibly drawn back to the hotel and her vocal charms.”
Barre turned from the couple. Saduq motioned for Barre to precede him onto the quay, and he did so, climbing the sea stairs to the deck of the Yemaja. A moment later Saduq followed, leaving only the strollers and his guards behind in the dimness along the dock.