Read The Delta Solution for Free Online Page A

the rail. They’d lost Bouh and Gacal, while Hamdan and Abadula were still on the helms. That left eight fully armed pirates against Rick Barnwell and his baseball bat.
    Right now, he was tucked behind the deck-level doorway to the upper works, uncertain what to do. Ismael Wolde knew he was there and not carrying a firearm and, very carefully, the Ethiopian-born pirate chief solved the problem.
    “Sir,” he said, “I know where you are. And I command you to throw out that baseball bat and then come out yourself with your hands high. I’m giving you five seconds, and then I shall throw a hand grenade through that doorway.”

    Somehow Rick understood that his old friend Charlie was dead. And he guessed the captain had run out of ammunition. He tossed out the bat and walked out onto the deck.
    “Stand against the wall,” said Wolde icily. “We do not like bloodshed and I regret your colleague opened fire on us from the high window. Two of my men are dead and one of yours. There will be no more killing. Although if there is further resistance from either you or your crew, my warriors are ordered to shoot to kill. Do you understand me?”
    “I understand you,” replied Barnwell.
    “And now you will lead me and three of my colleagues to your communications center on the bridge, and we will sort out our business together.”
    He then ordered four of his team to secure the ship and assemble everyone on deck. Wolde was counting on there being no armed personnel on board except for his own men. He and Elmi Ahmed, in company with Omar Ali Farah, the pirate with the big machine gun, made their way up the companionway to the bridge, the door to which was locked and clipped.
    “Tell them to open it,” he commanded.
    Rick Barnwell shouted, “May as well open it, sir. They killed Charlie, and there are eight of them, all heavily armed. If you don’t open the door, they’ll blow it open. They have hand grenades. Their CO has ordered no more killing.”
    Captain Corcoran understood he was beaten. He unlocked the door. His second mate walked through with his hands still raised. Wolde came next, his Kalashnikov levelled. Omar made a formidable sight holding the big machine gun. Elmi Ahmed moved to the front of the bridge and stood with his gun levelled, like his boss.
    “I want all three of you to walk over there and stand with your backs to the wall,” said Wolde. “And listen to my instructions very carefully. First of all, you will cut the ship’s speed back until she is idle in the water, resting on the tide. Then you will call your owners, I think the time is five in the afternoon in Washington.
    “You will tell them the Niagara Falls has been captured by the Somali Marines. And that you are powerless to fight back. You will tell them I will be in touch personally in the next thirty minutes to inform them of the ransom money—and that twenty-four hours from now, the crew will be taken into captivity on the mainland.

    “For the moment that is all. Except of course to mention that if my demands are not met, you will all be shot and the ship and its considerable cargo confiscated permanently.”
    Fred Corcoran ordered Rick Barnwell to cut the engines back and open up communications to the maritime section of USAID in Washington. “It’s Section 418,” he said. “I deal with Frank Allard, but this may require the head of section, Eugene Marinello. Tell whoever answers that no one less will do.”
    Ismael Wolde walked across the room and picked up Fred’s empty M-4 machine gun. “I shall confiscate this,” he said, admiring the former US military weapon. “And of course any other firearms we discover on board.”
    “You won’t find anything,” said Captain Corcoran. “This is a ship on a mission of mercy, carrying aid to your half-assed country. Except for my personal gun, we are completely unarmed.”
    “Then I have been very unlucky to lose two of my best men,” replied Wolde. “Very unlucky. I don’t