Free Operation Sea Ghost by Mack Maloney Page A

head. He seemed anxious—and disorganized.
    “I know that makes the most sense,” he said. “But again, this thing, the original ‘Z-box mission’ was so off-the-reservation, that even forty years later, the Agency can’t be seen anywhere near it. We can’t put our fingerprints on it, we can’t have a paper trail, we can’t even breathe next to it. Had we dug it up ourselves that would have been a different story. But now that it’s out of our control—well, that’s why we’ll pony up so much money for you guys to get it back.”
    Another silence. Then Nolan summed it up: “So if we find the pirates, the hijacked ship, and get your box back without any outside help, you’ll pay us a hundred million dollars.”
    The agent nodded. “And I don’t want to know how you are doing it, what methods you’re using, what happens to the pirates, nothing. In fact, I was never here. My name is Audette, but that’s all you have to know. I’ll give you two sat-phones, a number and a code word. Once you’ve found the box, or can confirm its whereabouts, call me and give me the code word. And that’s how I’ll know what’s happened. Agreed?”
    Nolan looked at the team. They all nodded quickly. For a hundred-million-dollar payday, they’d swim to the moon and back.
    The agent smiled nervously. “I’m hoping you guys hit gold right away, so this thing will be simpler than we thought.”
    But no sooner were those words out of his mouth than his sat-phone started beeping. The agent did all the listening in the conversation that followed.
    When he hung up, he had to wipe some newly formed perspiration from his brow.
    “There’s been a development,” he said, slowly. “Not a pleasant one…”
    He held up his sat-phone. “That was my contact in Bangkok. Apparently the Prince of Monaco is now involved in this thing.”
    The team members laughed again.
    “The Prince of Monaco ?” Gunner exclaimed. “How the fuck…”
    The agent explained: “We just got word that not too long after that target ship was hijacked, a sat-phone on board made seven calls, all within five minutes. One was to a number in Germany, a place called Bad Sweeten. Ever hear of it? It’s a dumpy little city, some place still stuck in the old East Germany. But it’s also a hotbed for al Qaeda types, as well as people who in the past have brokered ransom deals for Somali pirates. We believe many of these brokers are ex-Stazi agents—you know, the old East German secret police?”
    “That’s not good…” Gunner said.
    The agent went on. “Another call from the same cell phone went to the Prince’s Palace in Monaco. Then the rest went to other phones at unknown locations within Monte Carlo.”
    “Monaco? Monte Carlo?” Gunner said. “What could all that possibly mean?”
    The agent shook his head. “I’ve got no idea—but we were able to track down the phone by satellite. They found it, still turned on, left adrift on a small raft not far from where the target ship was hijacked.”
    Whiskey groaned as one. There was no mystery to this part of the story. It was an old spy trick. By setting the sat phone adrift, the pirates were trying to confuse anyone in pursuit. It also confirmed they were smarter than previously thought.
    “This means they know they have something more important than a bunch of old M-16s in their possession,” Nolan said. “They must have found the box and determined it has value to somebody. But how?”
    The agent shook his head. “Who knows? Those Vietnamese sailors might have mentioned the Agency in the confusion. That’s all it would take, maybe.”
    Nolan said, “Well, for whatever reason, if they’re talking about it to money brokers in this Bad Sweeten place, and in Monte Carlo, then I’m guessing they’re trying to sell it somehow. I’m also guessing they’ll try to get rid of that ship they hijacked as quickly as possible.”
    At this, the team nodded as one; the agent detected something.
    He