Guns for Hire - Script Thirty Eight

Magellan Star, Hadiboh Bay 2.42am - 30/07/2016

Crouching in the shadows Vrasten waited for Alex to lead them off however before she could move the walkie talkie squawked into life, frantically Vrasten killed the volume, listening as the earlier order reiterated that the chopper was inbound, again Vrasten mumbled an acknowledgment confirming that "they" were on the case, sighing he began to scale the containers.

As Vrasten disappeared from view Alex quietly loaded her MGL-105 grenade launcher smiling at T-Bird.

On top of the containers Vrasten stumbled across the impromptu helipad taking care not to drop down one of the many crevasses & voids between them looking for whatever lights the recently slain Burcad Badeed guards were supposed to be illuminating, more by luck than judgment he stumbled upon a half filled Jerry can & kerosene lamp, realising it for what it was it picked out the shadowed shaped of five more lamps spaced around the crudely painted "H" atop the containers, sticking his head over the side of the container edge he urgently hissed to get T-Bird's attention,

"Any body got a lighter ?"

Magellan Star, Hadiboh Bay 2.58am - 30/07/2016

Having scrambled back across the top of the containers with a lighter Vrasten lit the wick of the first lamp as yet again he was admonished over the VHF for Mohammed's disappointment at his slovenliness, on the main deck Vrasten held a finger to her lips as T-Bird urged Vrasten to get a move on, through the silence could be heard the distinctive & repeated thrum of a rotor blade beating the cool night air into submission.

Vrasten lit the last of the six lamps as the returning ZHi-8 slid sideways across the tidal waters towards the ships port side, crouched & leaning against the steel of the bottom container to steady her aim Alex controlled her breathing & shouldered the grenade launcher, slowly the helicopter drifted overhead, its pilot apparently satisfied with Vrasten's handiwork. As the chopper slipped from T-Bird's view Vrasten scrambled back down to join them on the weather deck picking up several more painful knocks to compliment the collection of bruises he'd picked up shinning up & down the stacked shipping containers. Several minutes the noise later the rotors of the ZHi-8 gradually began to lessen, after seeming like an age the engine was finally cut & the swish of cut air faded to nothing. From atop the containers voices could now be heard as the choppers crew disembarked.

Remaining hidden the rattle of metal against metal broke the night followed by the disappearance of the voices, creeping forward to the rearmost corner of the container stack there was no sign of the aircrew however in the watery light emitting from the accommodation deck & bridge windows above all three could see the rungs of a wire rope ladder hanging down the face of the containers,

"How the fuck was I supposed to know there was a fucking ladder up there" whispered Vrasten as he nursed his bruises.

Across the remaining expanse of the weather deck three bulkhead doors lead into the main accommodation & navigational decks below the bridge, with only the feint refrain of music drifting from somewhere above the way was clear, silently they ran for the port most door.

Magellan Star, Hadiboh Bay 3.14am - 30/07/2016

Peering through the doors vision panel they could see a corridor illuminated by the ships emergency lights with three doors to either side before the corridor turned to the left, the before turning the handle Alex checked to door out for security measures, she picked up the contact breaker however noted that its wires were already cut.

Before they entered the walkie talkie again requested Vrasten's dead buddies kill the lights, eyes skyward Vrasten repeated his best impersonation of a board Burcad Badeed guard & shinned up the wire rope ladder.

Magellan Star, Hadiboh Bay 3.16am - 30/07/2016

In the corridor they froze & strained to here any sounds of life, at the corridors far end Vrasten crouched & waited, around the corner he could see the corridor continued across the width of the stern accommodation, before turning back towards the weather deck, there were two doors on the right & what looked like stairs leading down to the left & up to the right halfway along the length of the corridor, from somewhere ahead what sounded like a Arabic radio broadcast could be heard interspersed with snatches of music.

With Vrasten watching the way ahead & T-Bird covering the outer door Alex turned to the closed doors, the room numbers announced this as Level 1 - Crew Day Rooms, from behind several came the distinct noise of sleeping bodies.

Magellan Star, Hadiboh Bay 3.21am - 30/07/2016

Glancing first to Vrasten & then T-Bird, Alex eased the lever handle of the first door, it didn't open, examining the handle she realised it was simply a thumb type lock on the inside of the room designed to give privacy rather than security, quietly she removed the outer plate & turned the spindle beneath. With exaggerated slowness Alex turned the now freed lever & eased the door ajar, from within the relaxed breathing of the rooms occupant continued, with knuckle blades fully extended Alex eased into the room, behind the door a figured slept peaceably on the bottom bunk, the room stank of stale sweat & general uncleanness, aside from the bunks there was a small table & two chairs as well as as a pile of clothes & other personal paraphernalia, in the corner leant a A-80 assault rifle, niceties observer Alex slid the wolvers into the heart of the bunks occupant.

Retreating to the corridor Alex wiped the blades on a dirty thawb she'd picked up of the bunk before moving onto the next presumed occupied room, listening at the door she could still hear regular slow breathing suggesting the occupant still slept. This time the door was unlocked, confidently Alex eased the door open & went to enter the room, instinct however stopped her in her tracks, she realised the the room had gone silent, waiting what seemed a life time she slowly swung the door open, crouched & entered.

This time the occupant was awake, sat up on the top bunk was female, in her left hand extended towards Alex was a blade, with the advantage of height she swung at Alex, Alex fended her away & struck, unfortunately it wasn't a killing blow & there was a, albeit brief, scream before Alex disemboweled her, in the corridor Vrasten & T-Bird froze, miraculously after a few minutes however nobody appeared.

Confident with Alex's success Vrasten took the door of the third bedroom while Alex kept watch on the corridor with T-Bird. Sure that the girls scream must have woken whoever was sleeping within. With katana at the ready Vrasten put his foot though the door bursting the thumb lock out of the frame, as the door flew open a startled kidnapper fumbled to slip a fresh clip in to his unloaded rifle, not doing him the courtesy of waiting, Vrasten slid the katana's blade into his guts, for a moment the Burcad Badeed stood quietly & stared in to Vrasten's eyes before slowly sliding to the floor to sit against the bottom bunk. Vrasten, almost respectfully, closed the broken door & left the man to die in peace.

Continuing around the corridor door the first door on the right was already open, the door sign announced it to be the deck crews kitchenette, inside were a couple of tables & chairs as well as wall cupboards, sink & microwave, as with the rooms seen so far housekeeping since the ship had been captured had not been a priority.

From the bow stairs down to left, emanated the Arabic speaking radio they'd heard since entering the corridor, opposite & leading up were a second set of stairs, as all was quiet & the remaining length of corridor unsecured they were ignored for the present.

Before the corridor returned towards the ships stern a second door beyond the stairs matching the position of the kitchen was opened, as per the signed screwed to the door, this was the heads for the ships deck hands, fortunately, despite the odour, it was unoccupied.

Mirroring the first corridor they'd entered the were six doors, three to either side of the corridor with a bulkhead door at the end leading back onto the weather deck. Cautiously moving along the corridor all but one room, central & starboard, appeared to be silent & unoccupied. With the corridor covered the door, unlocked was eased open, it immediately became apparent however that the room was unoccupied except for a radio on the table quietly playing the same Arabic station they heard emanating up the stairs from what they'd assumed was the engine deck. It was also clear that this room was currently the sleeping quarters of the ZHi-8's pilot & co-pilot, on the table were various technical manuals, flight magazines as well as a Stolboyov machine pistol, slung over the back of one of the chairs was a worn set of flight overalls. Vrasten picked up the STS intending to disarm it, on seconds thoughts however he simply opened the port hole & dropped it into the dark waters below.

Quickly the remaining five rooms were inspected, small arms recovered went the route of the Stolboyov.

Magellan Star, Hadiboh Bay 3.29am - 30/07/2016

Moving up the stairs Alex, Vrasten & T-Bird found themselves it what had previously been the crews recreational & dining area, it comprised one large room with bar & comfy seating to the starboard side & dining facilities as well as servery units to the port, as elsewhere there were signs of ongoing if not hygienic use.

From windows to the stern T-Bird could just about see the ZHi-8 secured on top of the containers.

Opposite the stair head was a external door leading onto the open gantry on the rear of the bridge tower, the door however was sealed from the outside. Debating whether to continue heading up the muted VHF at Vrasten's belt again squawked into life, through an open window overlooking the stern gantry Alex could the VHF caller talking into a walkie talkie.

Vrasten mumbled a response that he had bad guts & was in the head & would be back at his post soon,

"I'm not going to be able to string the fuckers along for much longer guys"

As the caller urged "Erasto" & "Nadif" to get back to the forecastle watch position or explain themselves to their leader, Yusuf Mohammed Siad Inda'ade Alex heard caller walking along the gantry & possibly up the external steps to the next level.

Quickly they headed up the internal stairs to the next level to try & intercept the caller.

Magellan Star, Hadiboh Bay 3.34am - 30/07/2016

The stairs lead to an intermediate landing from which four doors lead off, ignoring these the continued up leading to a corridor running around the rear & perimeter of the towers fourth level, ignoring the external door leading onto the external gantry they followed the caller & a second speaker who had clearly just come in through the external door & walked around the port passageway.

Hugging the wall the three followed the voices.

As the corridor curved around to the port they heard a door close muffling the conversation between however it was easily established which of the four inboard doors their target had gone into, listening at the door, the second one along from the stern, three Arabic accents could be heard, one speaking poor English, this was answered by what was clearly an English speaking European.

Magellan Star, Hadiboh Bay 3.43am - 30/07/2016

Listening at the door & interpreting the muffled conversation as best they could it appeared that somebody, the European, was being told where the ship was to next sail, clearly whoever this was had no choice in the matter.

Taking the lead Alex prepped her x-bow & made ready to rush the rooms occupants, Vrasten drew, for only the second time in anger, his mono bladed katana, its milky white blade near transparent in the emergency lit corridor, at the rear T-Bird, armed as Alex made ready to follow Vrasten through the door.

Bursting into the room Alex's combat reflexes kicked in, across an expansive circular meeting room table a fair haired middle aged uniformed European sat hand cuffed & dazed in a office chair, half behind him, hand raised to swat his face, stood a startled Burcad Badeed inquisitor, on the near side of the table stood a second interrogator, before Alex could look for the third she raised her x-bow & fired the carbon steel tipped quarrel into the chest of the second Somali as he grasped for the machine pistol on the table in front of him, at that point he lost any further interest in the proceedings.

Following Alex, Vrasten hurtled through the doorway, as he did so there was some resistance as if somebody had tried to force the door closed, fortunately Vrasten's thrust was to great & the door crashed back against the wall.

As Alex fired Vrasten was fired upon by Somali who'd been knocked back across the room, fortunately Vrasten's flak jacket absorbed the bulk of the slugs impact leaving Vrasten with only more bruises to add to his collection, Vrasten's momentum carried him towards his aggressor where he laid about the Somali with the near invisible crystal blade dispatching him to the care of his own god.

T-Bird charged behind Vrasten as quickly as he could, as the last to enter the meeting room he had the benefit of seeing what occurred moments before he needed to react, as Vrasten deftly wielded his monokatana about the prostrate Burcad Badeed he could see Alex abandon her spent x-bow & head around the table to assist if required.

Across the room the as yet unharmed second Somali was fighting to untangle the rifle slung over his shoulder, T-Bird raised his loaded x-bow & fired, the quarrel slipped over the hostages right shoulder & buried itself in the Somali's chest the force flinging him across the room.

Magellan Star, Hadiboh Bay 3.44am - 30/07/2016

T-Bird slammed the office door & put his weight against it whilst Vrasten ensured the three Somali's were dead, Alex leaving the corpse checking to Vrasten Alex concentrated on questioning the hand cuffed hostage before the shit really hit the fan.

As Vrasten stood T-Bird near jumped out of his skin as somebody in the corridor pounded on the door demanding to know what the fuck was going on, before Alex or T-Bird could react Vrasten answered in near perfect Arabic & with the force of will from fourteen years service in the NCPD, belittled the door knocker near apologised for the intrusion but hesitantly raised the possibility that he'd heard gun shots, again Vrasten enforced his authority on the situation &, at least temporarily, the chastised Burcad Badeed returned to the adjacent office.

Turning to the captive ships officer Alex pulled what immediate information she could from him, he was clearly confused & not a little beaten however Alex quickly established that the main bulk of the hostages were no longer aboard but the Yemen Interior Minister, Mutahir Rashad al-Masri, was, he also confirmed that the ships crew now numbered only six of the original eleven, himself, Captain Henry Crippen, the ships Navigator/Second Officer, the Boatswain, the Engine master & two Able Seamen.

Unfortunately however before he could expand further the sound of Somali's shots proved to have carried further than they'd hoped as was evidenced by the babble of voices on the walkie-talkie, in the swing of things Vrasten began to broadcast spurious reports of encroaching forces at various locations across the ship, so persuasive were his miss directives to repel the attacking forces that gunfire could be heard from above.

Heads together Vrasten, Alex & T-Bird considered their best option, out loud Alex mused that even if they didn't have the hostages they at least could claim salvage on the Magellan Star, hand cuffed in the chair Crippen, still somewhat disorientated piped up,

"You're wrong I'm afraid, there's no salvage, the ship still has a crew"

Alex thought about this for a moment & smiled to her self.

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