M/V DON CARLOS
A day out of Casablanca, the SSI team held a meeting to discuss options. There had been time on the way north to “interview” the former passengers and crew of M/V Tarabulus Pride.
Bernard Langevin scanned the interrogation reports and shook his head. “This Hurtubise is a crafty SOB, I’ll say that for him. He left two fairly small charges for us to find and put the big ones where we wouldn’t see them unless we inspected the hull. And there wasn’t time for that.”
“But why’d he bother to scuttle the ship?” Malten asked. “He still knew he’d get caught.”
“Well, yes, but there’s more to it,” Langevin replied. “Basically, no evidence, no crime. Look, we know the ship had yellow cake aboard. But even if we had some of it, who’s to say where it was headed?”
Pope was incredulous. “My God, Bernie, we know where it was headed.”
“Sure we do. But how would we prove it? The cargo manifest didn’t list it, of course, and the ports of call included three countries except Iran. As long as nobody talks, everybody’s safe.”
“How’s that?”
“Well, look at it legally,” Langevin replied. “Basically, we committed piracy. That’s right: we seized a ship conducting rightful passage through international waters. We had no formal standing with any government—especially the United States—and that’s how Washington wants it. So it’s a standoff. Neither side can complain without drawing unwelcome attention on itself.”
“Well I’ll be dipped.” Pope turned to Cohen. “Alex, what do you make of all this?”
The Israeli agent shrugged eloquently. “Near as I can tell, Bernie’s right. But the main thing is that we prevented the yellow cake from reaching Iran.”
“I still don’t understand one thing,” Pfizer said. “Why didn’t they rig the ship for scuttling before? I mean, if they intended to surrender anyway, why go through all the trouble? They lost people they didn’t have to.”
“Good question,” Langevin replied. “From what I got from their captain, he didn’t know about it. My guess is that he wouldn’t have allowed Hurtubise to prepare for scuttling. From his view, getting boarded and having the cargo confiscated was preferable to losing the ship, even with insurance coverage. Looks like Hurtubise just pretended to go along with the program until he saw how things shook out.”
Pope asked, “So what happens to Hurtubise and his mercs?”
“That’s beyond me. But I’m somewhere between a cynic and a skeptic regarding international legal matters. After all, neither the U.S., French, Libyan, or Iranian governments want this thing publicized.” He wanted to add, I’m not so sure about the Israelis. “Besides that, who would we turn him over to? The only provable offense was in Chad, and if he goes there I guarandamntee he’ll disappear in a New York minute. My guess is they’ll be released.”
Phil Green was still mulling over the death of Don Pace. “Excuse me, sir, but these bastards killed two of our guys. And where’s the Chad Government in all this? After all, their contractor was smuggling yellow cake, and killed some troopies in Chad.”
Bernard Langevin, with wider knowledge of the world than Phil Green, tried to recall a time when he shared the younger man’s sense of justice. He could not.
“I guess this isn’t the first time that two PMCs have shot at each other, and I don’t suppose it’ll be the last.” Gathering his thoughts, Langevin added, “The Chadian government has lots of people. Believe me, it doesn’t care about a few casualties. Not even those that SSI trained.”
Green regarded the scientist with a level gaze, equal to equal. “Don’t make it right, sir.”
Langevin chose his reply with care. “No, it don’t.”