Read Online Fortune Favors by Sean Ellis - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Sean Ellis
Tags: Fiction, General, Science-Fiction, Fiction & Literature, Thrillers, Action & Adventure, Action Suspense
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while the ship remained on the high seas; it was this very fact that had protected them from the greed of the pirates. An overriding concern however was giving the appearance that no crime or act of terrorism could prevent the success of the exhibition. It was an important psychological message to the world; if the cruise could be thwarted, what next? Only by demonstrating that everything was back to normal, that the hijacking had been merely an inconvenience, could the sponsors of the Muara exhibition hope to return a profit. Of course that normalcy would be an illusion. The already impressive security force was tripled, even though at the time no one but the crew remained aboard, and they were all undergoing an intense, if somewhat tardy, vetting process.
The next step in establishing that everything was back on track was to begin returning guests to the ship. Fully two-thirds declined the invitation, despite a number of incentives. But for every current passenger unwilling to return, there were ten thrill-seekers from every part of the world who were eager to book passage on what the news media had begun calling “The Pirate Cruise.”
The last of a long procession of helicopter shuttle flights touched down shortly after midnight. The pilot dutifully opened the rear door for his passengers, urging them to exit cautiously as they passed beneath the still spinning rotor blades, and then set about collecting their luggage. Burdened as he was with a double armful of suitcases and garment bags, he left the cargo door open and he hastened toward a pair of stewards who waited a safe distance from the aircraft. Neither the pilot, nor the stewards saw a dark-clad figure slip from the belly of the helicopter and melt into the shadows. Nevertheless, Nick Kismet’s return to The Star of Muara did not go completely unnoticed.
* * *
From the moment he escaped into the jungle, Kismet had operated under the assumption that the Sultan’s pronouncement of his death sentence ought to be taken at face value. As the sovereign ruler of the tiny kingdom, the man quite literally had the authority to call for a summary execution, and no amount of legal posturing would prevent a dutiful palace guard from carrying out the order. It was of course entirely possible that the facts of the matter had come to light but he wasn’t about to risk exposure until he was certain of it.
His decision to return to the ship had been more a matter of convenience than a thoughtfully arrived at strategy. Escaping from Borneo by any other means would have meant days of hardship and fugitive wandering through one of the most untamed places on Earth. In contrast, the cruise ship was a bastion of twenty-first century technology where he would quickly be able to affirm his innocence and arrange asylum should the worst-case scenario play out. It also seemed like the last place anyone would think to look for him.
From the helipad, he made his way into the ship proper, ducking into one of the common rooms where he made a mostly futile attempt to brush away the stains and wrinkles that permanently marred the fabric of his dinner jacket. He considered stuffing the soiled garment in a refuse bin, but unfortunately he had left his shirt at Jin’s fortress, still wrapped around the grappling hook.
Although it was nominally a party-ship, the atmosphere aboard was restrained. Where only a day before, wealthy debutantes had wandered the decks with cocktails in hand, this night found the ship seemingly deserted. As if observing an informal curfew, the passengers had retired early, leaving only a scattering of crewmembers roaming the decks. With the aid of a convenient fire-escape route map, Kismet plotted a course to a nearby lounge, intent on quieting the ravenous beast in his belly and soothing his strained nerves with a drink. Upon entering the salon however, he stopped dead in his tracks.
The small dining area was adjacent to one of the antiquities exhibits,
The next step in establishing that everything was back on track was to begin returning guests to the ship. Fully two-thirds declined the invitation, despite a number of incentives. But for every current passenger unwilling to return, there were ten thrill-seekers from every part of the world who were eager to book passage on what the news media had begun calling “The Pirate Cruise.”
The last of a long procession of helicopter shuttle flights touched down shortly after midnight. The pilot dutifully opened the rear door for his passengers, urging them to exit cautiously as they passed beneath the still spinning rotor blades, and then set about collecting their luggage. Burdened as he was with a double armful of suitcases and garment bags, he left the cargo door open and he hastened toward a pair of stewards who waited a safe distance from the aircraft. Neither the pilot, nor the stewards saw a dark-clad figure slip from the belly of the helicopter and melt into the shadows. Nevertheless, Nick Kismet’s return to The Star of Muara did not go completely unnoticed.
* * *
From the moment he escaped into the jungle, Kismet had operated under the assumption that the Sultan’s pronouncement of his death sentence ought to be taken at face value. As the sovereign ruler of the tiny kingdom, the man quite literally had the authority to call for a summary execution, and no amount of legal posturing would prevent a dutiful palace guard from carrying out the order. It was of course entirely possible that the facts of the matter had come to light but he wasn’t about to risk exposure until he was certain of it.
His decision to return to the ship had been more a matter of convenience than a thoughtfully arrived at strategy. Escaping from Borneo by any other means would have meant days of hardship and fugitive wandering through one of the most untamed places on Earth. In contrast, the cruise ship was a bastion of twenty-first century technology where he would quickly be able to affirm his innocence and arrange asylum should the worst-case scenario play out. It also seemed like the last place anyone would think to look for him.
From the helipad, he made his way into the ship proper, ducking into one of the common rooms where he made a mostly futile attempt to brush away the stains and wrinkles that permanently marred the fabric of his dinner jacket. He considered stuffing the soiled garment in a refuse bin, but unfortunately he had left his shirt at Jin’s fortress, still wrapped around the grappling hook.
Although it was nominally a party-ship, the atmosphere aboard was restrained. Where only a day before, wealthy debutantes had wandered the decks with cocktails in hand, this night found the ship seemingly deserted. As if observing an informal curfew, the passengers had retired early, leaving only a scattering of crewmembers roaming the decks. With the aid of a convenient fire-escape route map, Kismet plotted a course to a nearby lounge, intent on quieting the ravenous beast in his belly and soothing his strained nerves with a drink. Upon entering the salon however, he stopped dead in his tracks.
The small dining area was adjacent to one of the antiquities exhibits,
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