Читать книгу Satan’s Tail - Dale Brown - Страница 23

Ali steadied himself on the open bridge of the patrol boat as it cut across the shadows below the Somalian coast. Their target sat about a mile away, still steaming lazily for Boosaaso, a port on the Somalian coast. The ship was a freighter carrying crates of packaged food from the Mediterranean. Once the vessel was secured, they would offload as much of the supplies as they could. Ali’s men would also scour the ship for anything useful; he was especially interested in batteries and items such as electrical wires that could be used in the repair of the Sharia, the Somalian amphibious ship that they were working on. Finally, several hundred pounds of explosive would be packed into the hull, a timer set, and the ship directed toward the open channel: payback to the Greeks who owned her for trying to renege on an earlier arrangement.

‘Boarding party is ready, Captain,’ said Bari, the dark first mate.

‘Signal the other vessels,’ said Ali.

‘Yes, Captain.’

The merchant ship, the Adak, lumbered along at eight knots. It was likely her small crew hadn’t even spotted the three fast patrol boats and four smaller runabouts charging toward her stern.

Ali’s crew moved to the 40mm gun on the forward deck. He picked up the microphone as they drew alongside the ship.

‘Brothers, I speak to you today as a member of the Gulf Cooperation Council,’ Ali declared, his voice booming over the loudspeaker. ‘Your cargo is required in the struggle against the great enemy. Surrender without resistance and you will be accorded safe passage home. Any who wish to join our cause will be welcomed with eager arms.’

A figure appeared at the rail. Ali repeated his message.

‘They’re sending an SOS!’ said the radioman from below.

‘Fire!’ Ali told his crew over the loudspeaker. ‘Boarding parties, attack.’