excerpt…

The Chinese saw the waiter looking and returned a flat, unblinking stare.  There was something reptilian in that stare, without fear or feeling.  For all his experience and sangfroid, the waiter had to make a conscious effort not to take a step back.  He had to clear his throat before he could summon enough voice to ask them what they wanted.  The younger man ordered Tiger Beer.  The Chinese ordered green tea.  The waiter left, more quickly than he had arrived, and regained his manhood by bullying a British couple into a table in a high-traffic area right next to the bar, and forcing them to order the bamboo martinis instead of the lager they had come in for. 

The Singaporean pulled out a cell phone and placed it in the center of the table.  The Chinese lit a cigarette from the end of the one he already had going.

The phone rang.  The older Korean picked it up.

A pleasant voice speaking fluent English with a thick East European accent said, “Mr. Smith?”

“Yes.”

“Your Chinese guest is Mr. Fang.  He holds a master’s certificate, has thirty years’ experience at sea, and will be responsible for putting together the crew and acquiring and operating the vessel.  We have the highest confidence in his abilities.”

“Yes,” Mr. Smith said.

“The Singaporean is Mr. Noortman.  In your initial contact with us, you stressed the need for someone who specialized in cargo.”

“Yes.”

“Mr. Noortman is, quite simply, a genius with international maritime shipping.  He is also a full partner in Mr. Fang’s concern.”

“Yes.”

“Your fee was posted to our account in Geneva this morning.  I believe this concludes our transaction.  It has been a pleasure doing business with you.  If you need help in finding the appropriate personnel for future ventures, please don’t hesitate to contact us.”

“Thank you.”  The older Korean disconnected and put the phone in his pocket.  “English?” he said, looking at Fang.

Fang inclined his head, as did Noortman.

The older Korean’s smile was noticeably lacking in either friendliness or humor.  “My name is Smith.”  He indicated the younger Korean.  “This is Jones.”

Fang said, “I am told you need a ship.”

“Yes,” Smith said.  “A ship of a specific kind.”

Fang suppressed a yawn.  “How big?”

Smith slid a piece of paper across the table.

Fang read it and looked less bored.  “This is…an unusual request.”

Smith said nothing.

Fang passed the slip of paper to Noortman.  Noortman’s eyebrows went up and he exchanged a glance with Fang.  Fang said, “Did you have a particular port in mind?”

“Petropavlovsk-Kamchatsky.”

Fang was impressed and not favorably.  “It will be expensive,” he said at last.

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Dana sez–

In February 2004 I did a Bering Sea ridealong on USCGC Alex Haley. Sixteen days at sea, the first morning of which I woke up, sat up, and threw up. Yeah, baby. But it was an amazing experience, nothing at all like anything I’d ever done before, and inspired Blindfold Game. I will be forever grateful to one of the most hospitable and hardest working services in the world, the United States Coast Guard.

My price for the trip was to write a daily blog on my website so that friends and families of the crew could ride along with us. I have collected those blog posts in an ebook, On Patrol with the US Coast Guard.

Chatter blindfold game On Patrol with the US Coast Guard us coast guard