VIII Atlantic Trader

A wet hunt for cash.

"Captain, did you read the papers?" Armani asked.
-"Which paper? There are many." Capt. Jacobson answered, while looking over his beer glass, what was the sly dude up to now?
"Well it says here in the news paper that the FED is going to support the Central bank of Suriname with a whole lot of cash. Twenty million to be precise" Armani tapped the newspaper that was on the bar in front of them. "Do you know how that cash is going to be transported, captain?"
-"A plane probably. Knowing the yanks, probably a military one."
Armani smiled. "Well my cousin knows it's being transported by a ship, and they know which ship."
Peter knew the games of Armani by now, but you needed to join the play to get to the finish. "How would your cousin know such information?"
"I don't know, but they are sure. Would you be interested in knowing the name of that ship perhaps?"
-"My curiosity would like to be pleased yes."
Armani looked at his empty glass. And Peter understanding the hint waved to the barkeeper of Drynkz.

Peter had left the Drynkz and made his way to the local library, not to check out any books, but to use the computers. Armani was usually a good source of leads, but the price he had named for the information was high, Peter needed to do some digging of his own before he could convince the crew to spend that much money on a lead. So he went from one news website to another reading articles about a wide variety of subjects, including the few about the upcoming cash money transport. Even though no-one was looking for him, the crew or the Narwhal. It didn't hurt to play it safe and not leave a big footprint online. The money was indeed going to be transported, but none of the news outlets mentioned how.

"Cap, if you don't mind me asking, but how many "cousins" does our friend Armani have?" It was a voice from one of the crewmembers, that asked this question, but they didn't mean it literally. Everyone understood that they weren't really all Armani’s cousins, but just some acquaintances at best. The real question was, can we trust this person, why do they want to sell this information, how does Armani know them, and what did Armani tell them about the Pirate crew? That all hid in the simple question of 'how many cousins does he have?'
-"I don't know how many cousins he has, I don't even know how many siblings the man has!" Captain Jacobson answered, knowing very well that it was an unsatisfying answer. "And what if, IF, we can get together the ten thousand US dollar to buy this information of Armani's cousin. What do we get for that rather large sum of money?" It was Michael the Boatswain who was actually using his brain, and not still hangover from three days of partying in Plage de Sable. Yes three days it took before Peter had his full crew back on the Narwhal, and they could discuss the upcoming possibility."

It was a long discussion, but Armani had always given them good leads, so in the end the crew decided to invest in the information, and that evening Peter and Michael visited Armani again with a big envelope of a wide variety of bills of different notation and currency. But it would all tally up to the ten grand that was requested.

Armani had told them that the ship in question was the Atlantic Trader, sailing from Houston Texas in two weeks’ time. Capt. Jacobson told Armani that the Narwhal would set sail right away for Houston and trail the Atlantic Trader. Armani was very happy to hear that. So that’s exactly what the Narwhal didn’t do.

”Eloise you still hold a valid us passport right? Not wanted for anything?” Capt. Jacobson asked.
-“Yes, as far as I know, I’m not wanted for piracy, yet. Why?” Eloise Morgan answered with a slight doubt.
“Because then I’m going to ask you to fly to Houston, and have a look at the Atlantic Trader. And then tell me all you find out.”

Eloise was actually slightly nervous when passing the border security at the airport. The guy behind the bullet proof glass in the booth didn’t say anything when he put her passport on the scanner. And to Eloise her feelings it took a very long time before she could see the screen light up green in the reflection of the guys spectacles. With a sight of relieve she got her passport back and quickly left the airport.

It was much easier than expected to get access to the port, a safety helmet, a high visibility jacket and a lanyard with a scrap of paper flying in the wind was enough to stop a lot of people from questioning her presence. She got a good look on the Atlantic Trader, it was not a big ship. About a hundred meters long, the white accommodation was placed on the forward part of the ship, behind the bow. The hull was painted red including the funnel, that was positioned starboard aft. The hatch covers where grey. Conveniently it had quite a low freeboard, with a high coaming. And the ship didn’t have cranes of its own. From the mainmast it flew the Dutch flag, and from the starboard yardarm the curtesy flag of the USA and on the other side a company flag. The company flag was white with a black diagonal cross, and the letters TPSC in them. Eloise had never heard of the company. And to her it wasn’t that important either, but she would tell the captain anyway.

”Hey there. How are you doing? I’m Clare McCarter, from the Houston Ship Stores and Provisions company. And I was wondering if you need anything?” Eloise spoke to the Sailor keeping watch at the bottom of the gangway.
-“One moment I will ask the captain” The sailor spoke while pointing to the bridge. “Captain, gangway over.” “yes”. “Ships handler here asking if we need anything.” “No thank you.” The sailor shrugged while he put his radio away again.
“So what are you loading, staying a long time? Visiting the city?”
-“No, no time, we only load one container on deck and then sail again tomorrow evening.”
“Ah that’s a shame, there is nice bars here just outside the port’s gate.” Eloise had no clue if there where but the sailor would never know.

After Capt. Jacobson had received a message from Eloise that the Atlantic Trader would only sail with one container on deck and with the expected sailing time, the plan was made and the Narwhal set sail towards the Swan Islands in the North East of the Caribbean sea.
As they expected the Atlantic Trader to come south from Houston, exiting the Gulf of Mexico via the Yucatan Channel. Then cross the Caribbean Sea to pass Trinidad and Tobago heading for Suriname. That was the most straight forward and shortest route. And if the Atlantic Trader would head for the Florida Straits instead, the Narwhal could move through the Windward Passage to intercept them there.

The second mate was on the night watch, nothing had happened on the third mates watch before his, and nothing would happen now. He was busy updating charts and books, while keeping an eye out for other ships, of which there were none. The RADAR required constant fiddling with the settings as the rain slowly shifted back and forth between drizzle and showers. But with no ships around that didn’t really matter so much, it was to be a very quit night.

Suddenly the VHF radio burst into action. All Ships, All Ships, All Ships, this is the United States Coast Guard, the United States Coast Guard, the United States Coast guard, with a safety broadcast.
All Ships: There have been whale sightings in the Northern parts of the Caribbean seas. All ships are required to reduce their speed to 10 knots.
I repeat: There have been whale sightings in the Northern parts of the Caribbean seas all ships are required to reduce their speed to 10 knots.
This was the United States Coast Guard, out.

“Bloody fish” the second made mumbled to himself. And he changed the engine settings to reduce the speed to just below 10 knots. Then looked at his phone if there were any messages from his girlfriend before continuing with the chart updates.”

”Damn you sounded convincing Jack!” Capt. Jacobson told Jack after he had finished his fake coast guard broadcast over the VHF. Jack answered the comment with a huge grin. The Narwal was equipped with a directional radio transmitter, and with the low power output they used only the Atlantic Trader should’ve received their message. The Captain and Jan both looked at the radar, and where pleased to see that the speed of the Atlantic Trader dropped and then got steady at 9,8 knots.

Get ready boys, Jan told Michael Aleksey and Lester, rather pointlessly as the six of them had been ready for a while. The Narwal was making three knots, basically floating. On a course from George Town to the Swan Islands. Via their hacked AIS they transmitted the signal that they were a 8 meter pleasure craft named Sunday Fun crewed by two people. With their current speed they would cross the bow of the Atlantic Trader just ten minutes ahead of them.

”Jump now” Peter called out. And the six stepped off the stern of the Narwal into the black sea. Captain Jacobson looked, but the six where quickly lost in the darkness, the drizzle hid everything. He changed the course of the Narwhal a bit more to starboard and watched the navigational lights of the Atlantic Trader get closer and closer and then pass the stern of the Narwhal. Peter hoped his guys where okay. It was a very risky manoeuvre he asked them to perform.

It was an eeri feeling floating in the water, the Narwal disappeared faster then expected, and they could only look around when one of them was on a wave top. Ten minutes took for ever. But suddenly it appeared the navigation lights of the Atlantic trader, they grew taller and taller. And from the rain the silhouette of the ship appeared. The sound of the bow wave came to their ears, and Michael wouldn't admit it, but he was scared. Getting purposely over run by a ship was not something he planned on ever doing again.

The six pirates swam towards the starboard side of the ship. The bow wave pushed them back and they had to swim hard to get closer again. They had only one change to get onboard, or they be sucked into the ship's screw and turned into minced meat. But luck was on their side, two of the three grappling lines they shot up with their crossbows caught the railings and the lines went tight. All of them where like bait on a fishing line dragged through the water by the ship. Slowly Micael managed to pull himself up the line, hand over hand. Aleksey the strong giant was a bit faster, and Lester was trying to keep in his wake where it was slightly easier. It took longer than expected but all six of them made it onto the deck of the Atlantic Trader, where they lay gasping for air. But they appeared to be undetected, no alarm was raised, no lights turned on, the Atlantic Trader happily continued sailing. In the darkness Michael and Lester pulled their lines up on which ends where their tool bags.

The container was basically placed in the middle of the deck. As is good practise, the doors of the shipping container faced aft. So they cannot be bashed in by waves in bad weather. Which was very convenient for the pirates. First the group made their way down the sidewalk, and then one by one they climbed up the hatch and sprinted towards the container, hiding behind it so not to be in view of the navigation officer on the bridge.

"Lester I hope you did bring your pick set, as this box is padlocked." Aleksey whispered.
-"Of course." Lester was digging in his pocket and in the darkness he made surprising easy work of the lock, which opened with a very satisfying click.

"Hey giant, can you help me pull this door open." Lester had already unlatched the handles, but Aleksey’s brute force made it look like he opened the door of a doll house.
"HAHAAHAA Look at all that money!" Lester laughed out. Which resulted in a not quite so gentle slap on the back of his head from the bosun. "shut up mate". In the container where four plastic wrapped pallets, stacked to chest hight full of dollar bills.

The six pirates got to work and cut open the plastic of the first pallet, stuffing the duffle bags they had brought full of bills. One after another bag was filled. Aleksey was tying the bags together with the rope they had climbed aboard with, and checking if they were all properly closed. Soon the cargo of the second pallet was also gone. For the third stack they had to stuff the bags, and then they ran out of space, so they left the fourth pallet un touched. To cover their tracks they removed the three pallets from the container and two of them quickly carried them to the side of the hatch cover and lowered them into the sea.

Michael had made his way to the aft ship, trying to stay behind the container as much as possible. There next to the funnel he undid the chain link railings. Trought the darkness he heard the container being closed, louder then he liked. Then he whistled, and first Aleksey came running with a line of duffel bags in tow, jumping over the stern of the ship back into the sea. Lester was the last one, "container locked" he said while he jumped off. Michael reconnected the chain links and then jumped off himself.

The water turned him round and round, pulling him under. Seawater was up his nose, in his eyes. He gasped for air but only got water in. His arms and legs were pulled away from his body, and in his ears he heard the chop chop chop sound of the screw. Finally, he managed to pull the rope of his inflatable life jacket and his head came above the waves. Michael was disorientated for a good second, but then heard Aleksey calling out to him. "Bos'n, Bos'n!"
"I'm okay" he shouted back, and not soon after they had found each other in the dark. All of them where floating in their life jackets. A rope was passed around and they all tied themselves to it. So no-one would float away, also the duffel bags where floating around them, Aleksey had attached automatic life jackets to them, and they formed a string of yellow balloons on the water. Now all they had to do was wait for the Narwhal, that would be sailing in the wake of the Atlantic Trader to pick them up again.

Where the fuck were his guys, Capt. Jacobson, was mentally cursing while steering the Narwhal through the night, all the rest of the crew where on deck, staring into the night, for a sign of the six that maybe got onboard the Atlantic Trader.
Did he already pass them? Where they caught by the crew? or by the ship's propellor. He stayed on the same course line as the Atlantic Trader, following it exactly. On the Radar they could see that just after four in the morning it had sped up again. Did his guys already jump at that point? Now at was approaching six, the sun was about to rise, in the east the first light appeared, and Capt. Jacobson was worried he lost six good men.

"THERE! TO PORT!" It was the new girl Rose that had spotted them first, off to the port. A whole lot of yellow lifejackets floated in a circle. And when they got closer arms started to wave enthusiastically. Peter was smiling from ear to ear. They did it!

The group of six was hoisted onboard and hurried below where they could get a dry set of clothes and a bowl hot soup from Alejandro. The rest of the crew hauled the duffel bags on board and dropped them in the hold. The Narwhal then set course for the Swan Islands, to complete their cover story. After all the counting was done, they had just over fifteen million US dollar in a wide variety of bills in their hands. As far as they knew the Atlantic Trader was still on its merry way towards its destination, none the wiser.

A quick stop on the Swan Islands to buy some extra provisions. And then made their way to The Last Drop ale house where Eloise was waiting for them, and then lay low for a while.

It was a full day after the Atlantic Trader had left Suriname that the captain got an email, there was cargo missing from the container. The captain send back the standard reply that they were only responsible for moving the box and not what was in the box. Putting the TSPC office in the cc.

By the time the Atlantic Trader arrived in Cape Town it was clear that there was a problem. Apparently it wasn't newspaper in that container. And with a guy from the office, Hugo Dijkstra a duo of lawyers and a dozen police men were waiting for the ship. In two days they turned over the whole ship, opened every tank, searched every void space. Looked behind wall panels and among the personal effects of the crew. But to no avail, the missing money was not on board.

The onboard CCTV recordings were analysed, every comma in the logbook was questioned, but no clue as to what had happened. The money was in the container when it was closed but not when it was opened. That was the only conclusion they could make, and the insurance company had to cover it all.

But Hugo was not convinced, yes legally it had all been cleared, the ship was free, the crew was free, and the company was free of any guild or blame. But there had been rumours, rumours about pirates. Pirates attacking yachts, steeling petty cash and spare parts. Most people thought they were just robbers, poor, hopeless people from the islands. But what if they were a bit more organized, and got an appetite for something bigger? What if this was them? Hugo would talk to his uncle Anthon what he thought, and if he could do some more research.

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