Read Online Fortune Favors by Sean Ellis - Free Book Online
Authors: Sean Ellis
Tags: Fiction, General, Science-Fiction, Fiction & Literature, Thrillers, Action & Adventure, Action Suspense
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different approach.
Although the Sultan’s gun was less than a hand’s breadth from his face, Kismet launched into motion. He wrapped an arm around the Malay prince's neck, and plucked the gun from his unprepared grasp. By the time the soldiers could react, Kismet had the muzzle of the weapon buried in the Sultan's ear. “Lower your guns and move back.”
The commandos did not seem willing to relinquish their control of the situation, and Kismet could sense each man wondering if there was time to make a killing shot before the trigger could be pulled on the royal hostage.
“I mean it,” he grated, screwing the barrel deeper into the Sultan’s skull and eliciting a low cry. “Back off.”
“Do as he says.”
Kismet again recognized the voice and the distinct accent of a New Zealander. Evidently, Sergeant Alexander Higgins remained a figure of authority in whatever army he now served; as one, the commandos lowered their assault rifles until the barrels were pointing at the ground and opened a path of exit.
Kismet did not release the Sultan, but instead manhandled him away from the parked ATV and toward his intended avenue of escape. He did not offer words of thanks to Higgins; the night was still young and there remained ample opportunities for things to go wrong.
Once past the perimeter established by the ring of soldiers, he turned, backing away from them toward the tree line. The commandos hesitantly grouped together, watching him and cautiously easing forward. He took a final backward step, then propelled the Sultan into their midst. As they instinctively moved to assist the royal personage, Kismet bolted into the depths of the jungle.
The night came alive with the tumult of gunfire, and Kismet knew that the bullets zipping through the humid air, shattering bamboo poles and smacking into tree trunks were meant for him. Apparently Higgins’ orders didn’t carry that much weight after all.
He couldn’t tell if the soldiers had elected to pursue him on foot, but after an initially fierce fusillade, their guns fell silent and the sounds of the jungle enveloped him completely.
There was no way he could have heard the barely whispered parting words as he vanished into the night.
“Good luck, mate.”
THREE
By the time the Sultan of Muara arrived back at the cruise ship bearing the name and flag of his small country, repairs to her breached hull were well underway. Dead in the water since the sabotage of her computerized systems by pirate agents posing as members of the crew, the ship faced only minimal danger from the gaping wound. As a precaution, the chief engineer had dumped enough ballast to lift the holed section away from the waterline to mitigate the risk of inundation, and it had not been necessary to abandon the vessel. Nevertheless, most of the passengers had elected to depart, at least temporarily, the idea of a long ocean voyage having lost its appeal. The Sultan likewise decided to leave the ship, claiming that the act of piracy and the near-fatal kidnapping of his beloved wife had created a domestic crisis which necessitated his remaining in the Sultanate.
Over the next twenty-four hours however, the situation improved remarkably. The repairs were completed—not simply a patch to cripple the ship into port, but a seaworthy reconstitution of the hull. The only indication of the damage was the flat gray of the primer coat used to protect the welded steel plates from rapid oxidation in the salty air, and even that distinction was scheduled to be addressed by maintenance crews at the next major port of call. The sabotage to the engine room and the ship’s computer were likewise repaired in short order, and the craft was deemed ready for service before the fall of the next evening.
There were many reasons why it was important for The Star of Muara to be restored to active status as quickly as possible. Several of the antiquities in the collection were too large or fragile to be moved
Although the Sultan’s gun was less than a hand’s breadth from his face, Kismet launched into motion. He wrapped an arm around the Malay prince's neck, and plucked the gun from his unprepared grasp. By the time the soldiers could react, Kismet had the muzzle of the weapon buried in the Sultan's ear. “Lower your guns and move back.”
The commandos did not seem willing to relinquish their control of the situation, and Kismet could sense each man wondering if there was time to make a killing shot before the trigger could be pulled on the royal hostage.
“I mean it,” he grated, screwing the barrel deeper into the Sultan’s skull and eliciting a low cry. “Back off.”
“Do as he says.”
Kismet again recognized the voice and the distinct accent of a New Zealander. Evidently, Sergeant Alexander Higgins remained a figure of authority in whatever army he now served; as one, the commandos lowered their assault rifles until the barrels were pointing at the ground and opened a path of exit.
Kismet did not release the Sultan, but instead manhandled him away from the parked ATV and toward his intended avenue of escape. He did not offer words of thanks to Higgins; the night was still young and there remained ample opportunities for things to go wrong.
Once past the perimeter established by the ring of soldiers, he turned, backing away from them toward the tree line. The commandos hesitantly grouped together, watching him and cautiously easing forward. He took a final backward step, then propelled the Sultan into their midst. As they instinctively moved to assist the royal personage, Kismet bolted into the depths of the jungle.
The night came alive with the tumult of gunfire, and Kismet knew that the bullets zipping through the humid air, shattering bamboo poles and smacking into tree trunks were meant for him. Apparently Higgins’ orders didn’t carry that much weight after all.
He couldn’t tell if the soldiers had elected to pursue him on foot, but after an initially fierce fusillade, their guns fell silent and the sounds of the jungle enveloped him completely.
There was no way he could have heard the barely whispered parting words as he vanished into the night.
“Good luck, mate.”
THREE
By the time the Sultan of Muara arrived back at the cruise ship bearing the name and flag of his small country, repairs to her breached hull were well underway. Dead in the water since the sabotage of her computerized systems by pirate agents posing as members of the crew, the ship faced only minimal danger from the gaping wound. As a precaution, the chief engineer had dumped enough ballast to lift the holed section away from the waterline to mitigate the risk of inundation, and it had not been necessary to abandon the vessel. Nevertheless, most of the passengers had elected to depart, at least temporarily, the idea of a long ocean voyage having lost its appeal. The Sultan likewise decided to leave the ship, claiming that the act of piracy and the near-fatal kidnapping of his beloved wife had created a domestic crisis which necessitated his remaining in the Sultanate.
Over the next twenty-four hours however, the situation improved remarkably. The repairs were completed—not simply a patch to cripple the ship into port, but a seaworthy reconstitution of the hull. The only indication of the damage was the flat gray of the primer coat used to protect the welded steel plates from rapid oxidation in the salty air, and even that distinction was scheduled to be addressed by maintenance crews at the next major port of call. The sabotage to the engine room and the ship’s computer were likewise repaired in short order, and the craft was deemed ready for service before the fall of the next evening.
There were many reasons why it was important for The Star of Muara to be restored to active status as quickly as possible. Several of the antiquities in the collection were too large or fragile to be moved
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