Massive Attack (A Guy Niava Thriller Book 1) by Dana Arama (diy ebook reader TXT) 📕

“Go up and finish with this business already!” Yassin said impatiently. “And don’t dare make any phone calls!” he yelled after me. I wondered if he was impatient because other people’s needs don’t concern him or because he didn’t foresee a future for me and therefore the file was worthless. I went upstairs. In the middle deck on the left-hand side, was a most luxurious dining hall. Under the shiny chandelier, near a fully stocked liquor bar, next to the mahogany table big enough for twelve people, stood four men loading weapons into black bags. There were hand grenades, guns and short assault rifles. To the side, next to the wall, on the Persian carpet, under the famous painting of sunflowers, were three full bags. Next to them was a pile of boxes, stacked one upon the other.

“Ready?” I asked confidently, as if I had a clue what the rest of the plan was, as if I knew where they were going or what they were about to do.

“We are just finishing. We’ll be done in a couple of minutes and ready to leave as soon as you say,” answered the shorter guy. He had an accent which reminded me of home, a mixture of English and Syrian Arabic.

That wasn’t good. Even if I sent the signal now, by the time it was deciphered and they arrived, we won’t be in the same place. I stood by the metal door, took a deep breath and walked outside, into the cold darkness. Behind me I could hear the guy say: “Careful not to slip. The deck is wet. Hold onto the railing or something stable!”

He was right. With my first steps I fought with the winds and the wetness of the deck I stood upon. The sound of the blowing wind was like a warning from a thousand witches. My shivers derived from fear and not the cold. I looked around, hoping to see a sparkle of light, indicating we were not entirely alone. But the darkness was absolute. I didn’t know exactly how the boy’s booby trap worked but hoped for the best, which was them finding my location via my cell phone. I opened the file. I left the cell phone and the file open for as long as possible. I had no idea how it worked or if it would work, but something made me think that this was the best option, leaving it on. I trusted the little bastard down there to do his job properly. Damn it, I thought, if I hadn’t been in the habit of using multiple disposable phones, they would have been onto us in no time and I would have been saved.

It seemed that my delay on the deck hadn’t pleased Yassin and soon enough the short gorilla joined me. I tried to draw out the time on deck, so I said, “I’m dying for a cigarette.” He put his hand in his pocket, took out a box and from it, pulled out one cigarette and a cheap plastic lighter. In the dim light from the dining hall, could see it was a Marlboro cigarette. With unexpected generosity, he gave it to me. I said, “Shukran,” and just to be on the safe side I added in English as well, “Thanks,” and then I took the cigarette. I gained a moment more of transmission time, the length of a cigarette, because he put one in his mouth as well. He adjusted his feet in a wide stance, then leaned towards me with his lighter, guarding the fire with his huge paws.

“Only a few drags,” he said, ruining my pleasure. His voice sounded as if it were in a barrel, and in an almost apologetic tone he added, “Yassin wants you to come down now.” We stood there for another moment in silence, smoking. He stood firmly on the swaying deck as if he were born to be a pirate and I wanted to vomit.

After about a third of the cigarette I said, “I’m going down.” He threw his cigarette overboard. I took two more puffs and nonchalantly went inside with my cigarette. I looked around and made my way towards an ashtray. Would they empty the ashtrays when they left? Just in case, I wet the filter with more spit, leaving enough DNA to recognize who was there, and threw the cigarette near the ashtray and not in it. If someone came here looking for clues, he would find my DNA on the discarded cigarette. Assuming that whoever came did a good job. If the boy bled on the floor, they would find that too. Maybe together we would be able to leave enough crumbs behind for them to understand we were here, and it would help them follow my cell phone.

Down below, the boy stood on one leg and leaned on the wall under the lamp that lit the area with such unnatural light. He looked even paler than usual. His foot seemed to hurt him more than he showed because his forehead was beaded with sweat.

“I understand that you are packing and leaving here,” I mentioned casually, hoping Yassin would understand that I had no intention of joining them.

“Yes. Leave your cell phone here.” Yassin looked at me with the same mocking smile. “There is no reason for them to follow us. I am planning on bringing the kid to a computer which can’t be tracked. We will break into his father’s private computer so we can operate it. The father has become the main guise for my plan and the kid will operate this cover.”

“You are in luck, kid,” I looked at him and added, “You have a few more days to live.” The boy stared at me with a look of panic, and his mouth opened and closed again but no sound came out of it. Outside, the wind got stronger and with it came an annoying whistling sound through a slight crack in the door. The