Hidden Order: A Thriller Read Free Page B

successfully took the pirates’ resupply boat when it pulled up alongside the tanker. Within seconds of the three dead Somalis being tossed out of the resupply boat, the great white sharks that infested the Gulf of Aden tore the corpses to shreds.
    Mukami’s cousin, Pili, simply thought he was coming out to take over the Sienna Star for a few days. The shooting of the three pirates had taken him completely by surprise. He was in a state of quasi-shock, and so Mukami piloted the resupply boat into port.
    As Harvath and Sanchez checked and cleaned their weapons, they went over the plan with Mukami once more.
    They would berth at the northern end of the small harbor where the supply boats normally picked up and dropped off. The car Pili and Mukami shared was already there waiting. While Pili stayed with the boat, Mukami would drive Harvath and Sanchez past the house the pirates owned, in order to give them a quick look. He would then drop them off around the corner and continue on to the house himself.
    It wasn’t unusual for the Kenyan engineer, upon arriving back in port, to show up at the walled compound to be paid, before proceeding on to his hotel. Usually, the pirates invited him to drink, smoke the hookah, and gamble with them. If they did so tonight, Harvath had told him to accept their offer.
    Mukami was carrying a satellite phone Harvath had given him, along with a plausible excuse for it. If the phone was discovered, he would state that the Sienna Star was experiencing an electrical issue and that he needed to be available should his cousin require technical assistance.
    Once inside, Mukami was to try to ascertain where the Greek captain was being held and transmit that information to Harvath and Sanchez. The two former SEALs would handle the rest.
    When they were done going over the operation, Harvath had a personal question for Mukami. “Why?”
    “What do you mean, why ?” the Kenyan replied.
    “Why do all this? Why work with the pirates?”
    “For the same reason everyone else does. For money.”
    “But the pirates are bad people.”
    “Unfortunately, in Africa,” said Mukami, “we don’t have the luxury of deciding from whom we take our money.”
    “But you and your cousin seem like good guys. You’re educated. You’re polite. You speak multiple languages. For men like you, there have to be other ways to make money.”
    “No, not true. Not for the kind of money we need.”
    “I don’t understand,” said Harvath.
    “My sister and Pili’s sister went abroad. They paid bad men to smuggle them into Europe. They were told they would be given jobs and would be starting over with an opportunity for a better life. It was a lie. They were trafficked. That was two years ago. We have not seen or heard from them since. The men tell us that for more money they can get our sisters back. This is why we have been working for anyone who will pay us, and pay us well.”
    It was one of the millions of heartbreaking stories that existed throughout the third world. It was also none of his business and Harvath was sorry he’d asked. A hush fell over the boat and there was only the sound of the diesel engines as they made their way toward shore.
    When the resupply boat pulled into the pirates’ port it was well past midnight. The pier they tied up to was completely deserted, except for a few other supply boats, their crews long since returned home for the evening. On the other side of the tiny harbor they could see a stem-to-stern string of pirate mother ships and fast attack boats. While Somali piracy may have been down overall, this village still seemed to be making a very good living at it.
    Peering out of the boat’s wheelhouse, Harvath and Sanchez took onelast look up and down the pier before allowing Mukami to disembark and ready his vehicle. Pili would stay aboard and wait for everyone to return.
    They watched Mukami walk down the dock to a battered brown Mercedes sedan with one white door and a missing