Thunderbolt by Wilbur Smith (reading strategies book .txt) 📕

‘It’s like Robin bloody Hood,’ I said.

‘I do not know this …’ said Mo.

A shot of something close to pleasure went through me: the boy hadn’t heard of everything then.

‘English folk hero,’ said Amelia. ‘Proto-Marxist. Robbed the rich, gave proceeds to the poor, against a backdrop of exploitative taxation.’

‘That’s one way of telling the story,’ muttered Xander.

Mo ignored him and addressed Amelia. ‘Yes, I remember now. The subject of many successful film interpretations. Errol Flynn, Kevin Costner, Russell Crowe, et cetera.’

The pleasure washing through me leaked away. I picked at a scab on my knee to divert myself.

‘Also played by Sean Connery, and, most recently, Taron Egerton,’ Amelia added.

‘Yes, well, think of those films,’ said Mo. ‘The happiness of the poor people when Robin is among them. That’s what it’s like here. Our captors are seen as brave and helpful by the whole community.’

‘Not least their mafia-style bosses,’ said Amelia. ‘Don’t forget them.’

‘I haven’t,’ said Mo. To me and Xander he explained, ‘The men who risk everything to steal boats – small ones these days, since the big ships are so heavily defended – are not acting alone. They have backers. Rich men ashore who put up the money for their fuel and weapons. They expect and receive a big return on their investment. There is even an informal stock exchange selling shares in piracy operations! The pirates themselves only see a slice of the proceeds from their endeavours. Everyone knows this. They are not regarded as greedy thieves, more the defenders of our waters, men prepared to put their lives on the line to help rebuild this country.’

‘By “endeavours” you mean stealing other people’s property, kidnapping children to ransom, and killing innocent civilians,’ I growled.

‘Yes. As I say, it’s complicated. Let me leave you with this. The Somali word for pirate is burcad badeed, which means ocean robber –’

‘Sounds about right,’ I interrupted.

‘Yes, but the pirates themselves refer to what they do as badaadinta badahor, which translates as something like “saviour of the sea”.’

I punctured the silence that followed this little lecture with a snort, but the awkward truth was that Mo’s explanation did make sense of what I’d witnessed that afternoon. These guys had no reason to skulk about. At least not for the most part. Presumably there was somebody responsible for policing this bit of Somalia, but whoever it was obviously didn’t trouble the pirates unduly. They had the support of the locals, that much was clear, and they were relying upon them to keep our location a secret for now.

It was an odd feeling, to think that a whole town was fine with our incarceration. Odd and unpleasant. If I could break us out of this room and run down the street shouting ‘Help!’ I’d likely be gathered up and handed straight back to Barrel-man again. Just as the pirates had used the Indian Ocean as the mother of all moats, they now had the land and everyone in it to contain us. Jumping overboard – for now at least – would be as pointless here as it had been at sea.

26.

They moved us inland the following day, but not before the stunt with the newspapers. I’d been wondering when it – or something like it – would come. Seemed they’d been waiting for a decent internet connection before making their ransom demand.

Mo, listening to the chat coming through the door, warned us what was coming. ‘They’re in no hurry,’ he said. ‘Right now, they allow your families to fear the worst. Then, when they make contact with proof-of-life, it’s as if you’ve come back from the dead. This makes it more likely a big ransom is paid.’

I thought of the message I’d sent Mum and felt more determined than ever that these guys shouldn’t earn a penny from our abduction. Did Xander and Amelia feel the same way though, still? I asked them again.

‘Of course,’ said Amelia straight away.

‘Ideally,’ added Xander.

Amelia immediately pointed out that he was leaving some wriggle room with that word: ‘There’s nothing ideal about the situation.’

‘I’m just not sure my parents will be content to sit back and wait for us to escape. Will yours?’

‘My mum will do whatever Jack’s mum advises,’ she said matter-of-factly.

‘The sooner we make a break for it, the sooner the problem will go away,’ I said, as much to myself as anyone else.

Mo sucked air through his teeth when I said that. ‘You must be careful with these men, on land as well as at sea,’ he said. ‘Be patient.’

‘You would say that,’ I couldn’t help replying.

‘We can’t do much now anyway.’ Xander, ever the diplomat, obviously wanted to head off any argument. He tapped at a breeze block. ‘These are solid walls and that metal door must be an inch thick. We’re not going to break out of here.’

‘They won’t be keeping us here for long,’ said Mo, but immediately and annoyingly doused any spark of optimism by continuing with, ‘However, where we’re going next is just as secure in its own way.’

I pressed my shoulder blades into the solid brick wall, thinking again how beyond them, surrounding us, and making things worse, were a whole load of people apparently on the pirates’ side.

‘We’re thinking about this the wrong way,’ I said. ‘Breaking out may not be an option, but persuading ourselves out could be.’

‘Persuading?’ said Amelia.

‘Bargaining, negotiating, whatever.’

‘You need something to bargain with for that to work.’

At this Amelia gave me one of her ‘meaningful stares’. They’re not very subtle. I had no idea what she meant by it, and was none the wiser when she gave an equally unsubtle micro-nod in Mo’s direction before repeating the gesture.

What was she on about?

Unable to bear the fact that I hadn’t cottoned on, she couldn’t stop herself from spelling things out. ‘Er, actually, I had one eye on the bargaining power trajectory from the beginning, as I’m sure you guessed.’

‘Trajectory? Guessed?’

‘With the anti-nausea tablets.’

‘Come again?’

‘When Xander was sick I dug out the