Djibouti

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

I'VE GOT TWO HOURS of Somali pirates in the can," Dara said, "and it's no longer about them."

They were at the Kempinski dining table again, her MacBook Pro and a fifth of cognac in front of them. They'd had supper away from the hotel and now they were at work.

Xavier said, "You still got the main one, Idris Mohammed, and you got his buddy Harry the Sheikh. You don't need any more pirates. The picture takes a turn here to bigger stuff."

"We don't have a transition," Dara said. "We don't see Harry and Idris forcing the two al Qaedas into the SUVs."

"We got the khat-chewer," Xavier said, "wad in his cheek, telling me what happened that morning, the Qaedas trussed up and blindfolded. Cut back and forth between the khat-chewer telling it in his English-and that's good stuff-and some black Toyotas ready to go."

"I'm not going to fake shots," Dara said.

"The khat-chewer says somebody was shootin what was goin on. He thought it was me at first, 'cause it was a Somali had my same color, the one shootin the pictures."

"We did look for him," Dara said, "and came up empty." She sipped her cognac. "I need a transition."

"It's turnin into a Hollywood movie," Xavier said, and saw Dara, tired of it, shaking her head. "Or the treatment of a picture," Xavier said, "you could sell to a studio for a pile of money, since you don't want to shoot it with movie stars. Cut your two hours down to twenty minutes of pirates doin their number. See 'em at the party wearin their new shoes. See the hijacked ships layin at anchor-mood shots, the party music from up the hill over the ships sittin in the dark. Idris and Harry watchin the news-Somalis take their first American ship and they love it, both of 'em, and we get our first peek at who these boys are. Second act, you follow 'em to Djibouti."

"Hollywood's way ahead of us," Dara said. "Pirate movies are already in preproduction, Samuel Jackson doing one."

"His might be all right. Sam'll have the accent down."

"We've seen the Alabama hijacked."

"The one Discovery did? You kiddin me? They mix up a tiny bit of actual footage with quick shots of nothing. Grown men pretending to be Somali boys."

"You're right," Dara said, "it was awful. Discovery ought to be ashamed of themselves."

Xavier said, "That big sailin yacht gets hijacked in a movie coming up. Only the crew aboard. The girls come out of hidin after a couple of days drinkin wine and eatin peanuts. The pirates don't get it. Say why you hidin? You think we gonna jump you? That's what happen, nothin. Hollywood makes it, they have the pirates look 'em over, leerin at them, jihad boners in their pants. You gonna do this movie you don't have to change nothin. You already in it and you sense where it's goin. You say the pirate movie about pirates is over. By Sunday they showin a sign they want to kill us. Mr. Billy Wynn comes along with his elephant gun and saves our ass from their ire. Mr. Billy Wynn knows what he's doin. Keep him in sight and you have your movie."

"If I'd been there," Dara said, "when they drove off with the al Qaedas, I'd be with them. You wouldn't see me till you got to Djibouti."

"Run off in your little shorts and T-shirt?"

"Wouldn't matter, I'd have my secret camera."

"Same underwear the whole trip."

"I'd borrow a pair from Harry."

"Not Idris?"

"Harry's daintier, he'd have a few extra pair. What we don't want to forget," Dara said, "Harry sells guns. Isn't as clean as he looks."

"Well, you didn't get to go with the boys," Xavier said. "So where you are then in your movie, you see yourself on a boat goin six miles an hour for close on seven hundred miles full speed all day, all night?" Xavier paused to sip his cognac. "Took us twelve days to get to Eyl lookin at ships. Take us seven to get back to Djibouti, the sea behaves, we don't take on a monsoon, and the engine don't quit on us. Remember lookin at another week on the Buster?"

"Talking about it while we're tied alongside Pegaso," Dara said. "I had a feeling I could use Idris and Harry, but we'd have to get to them soon, in a couple of days."

Xavier grinned a little. "And our friend Billy, remember? He come along sayin, 'What's the hurry?'" "YOU FIGURE HIM OUT?" Xavier said. "First he say we never gonna make it. The Gold Dust Twins be pitchin their deal at the U.S. Embassy, after a reward, while we still out in the gulf. Then Billy changes his tune. Says, ''Less I can get you a ride to Djib.'"

"His chance to show off," Dara said. "Tells Helene to get on the computer and find the positions of navy ships in the gulf, and plot their estimated courses. Helene's in her little bikini looking at dots on the screen that stand for ships-like she's working in a war room. Billy wanted the Eisenhower and got Helene to locate it. I remember thinking, He's gonna have an aircraft carrier pick us up? But it turned out to be our old friend CG-66 closer by, the guided missile cruiser with the skipper who likes my docs."

"You always this lucky?"

"When I have to be," Dara said. "As soon as I saw that blunt face of old 66 coming up on us I knew I'd make it."

"Told 'em you had al Qaeda stuff to report."

"Billy said I had to get to the Eisenhower to reach Djibouti in a few hours. He said, 'Once you're on the carrier you take the Greyhound.'"

"Like you gonna hop a bus."

"I told the skipper I had information for Diplomatic Security about terrorists. They relayed it to the carrier and the exec said to come on. They sent me in a helicopter, a Seahawk. We land on the flight deck and I step out-"

"To cheers and whistles."

"You weren't there."

"I can see it. You come off the copter in your little outfit, the cool chick with the cute ass in her short pants."

"I had the Canon and all the tapes in my bag, but already uploaded to my server. I had a feeling the CIA would keep my footage, take their time looking at it. The crew greeted me and I waved, that's all."

"Movie star visits the fleet. They give you more noise'n Virginia Mayo ever got."

"I had to decide, take the twin-turboprop Greyhound leaving in an hour, or dine with the captain and take the morning flight, with outgoing mail and a grocery list. I hear he's a savvy guy, but I had to turn him down I was so anxious to get to Djibouti, acting like I had to go to the bathroom. I told you there were news people aboard? All of us going back in an hour. They were out five days hoping to see pirates."

"Didn't see a one, did they?"

"Will you let me tell it? They were aboard the Eisenhower five days and had dinner with the captain once. No-they had lunch with him. Five men and one woman."

"You talk to them?"

"Of course."

"Tell 'em you know some of the bad boys personally? Have two of 'em makin eyes at you?"

"Harry's not interested, he hasn't given me any kind of look."

"Not while you watchin him. The newspeople want to see your footage?"

"I didn't offer. I shot them with the flip."

"They get angry with you?"

"They had no idea I was filming them."

"I mean not showin your footage?"

"They stopped asking. I didn't say a word about al Qaeda. I went to sleep on the plane."

Xavier said, "You get to Djibouti, now you have all kind of security on you." Xavier waited, watching Dara raise her glass to take a sip. He said, "You got your mind on the Gold Dust Twins, al Qaedas, CIA people…You know, you never once ask how me and Buster did our time at sea? Alone, so to speak."

Dara placed her glass on the desk and turned in her chair to face Xavier, waiting. She said, "I did, I asked how'd it go. If you missed me."

Xavier shook his head. "Unh-unh. I'm sittin here so I musta made the trip okay."

She thought of saying she didn't want to fly off and leave him. But she did, dying to get off this cute fucking boat. She said, "I knew you'd make it." He was silent now. Hurt? She said, "Xavier, tell me what happened?"

"Nothin. I tied on to old 66 and got towed to Djibouti. How you think I made it in two days?"

"But I'm out of touch by then." Dara finished her cognac. "The plane lands in Djibouti and I'm met by a quiet young guy from the embassy, the car waiting on the strip, a Lincoln."

"Made you feel important."

"It did, at first. The young guy-I forgot his name, Patrick something-said he was CIA station chief there. I thought he'd start in, ask how I happened to know about terrorists. You know what he said?"

"How was the flight?"

"He said, 'Is it hot enough for you?'"

"He's settin you up. Start slow, then blindside you."

"I think he expected me to start running off at the mouth, but I didn't. I said, 'I'm used to it by now.' Neither of us said another word on the way. No, he said something about the embassy being air-cooled for your comfort. Didn't they use to say that about movie theaters?"

"Before you were born."

"It was the only mention of where we were going."

"You musta known you weren't goin to the hotel."

"You're right, he didn't ask where I was staying. We approached the embassy, local police hanging around in front, passed through the gate and got out at the entrance. The marine post, the first one, was just inside. The marine took my passport and entered what he needed to know and handed it to the CIA station chief. The marine wanted to look in my bag but Patrick said, 'Ms. Barr's with me,' and took it off my shoulder. Now we're in the inner lobby-the whole place done in that harmless government decor. I was thinking they could get-what was her name, Billy's yacht decorator? Anne Bonfiglio. See if she could add a 'look' with a bit more life to it. The next marine stepped away from his desk to hand me a visitor's ID badge. Red with a big V in white and the words ESCORT REQUIRED. You believe it?"

Xavier said, "They got you now."