Debonaire

By Dave Moruzzi

What has a new sailboat designed to resemble the old Chesapeake Bay Schooner, ancient relics from the early days of the Roman Empire, and a stray cat with an uncanny ability have to do with each other? Captain Ben Bass and Sam Ko, the owner of Windward Islands Bare Boats, form a new company to enter in the luxury cruise industry, only to have one of their captains become a murder victim. As Ben Bass tries to make sense of the crime, he becomes a target and almost loses his own life twice and on two different islands nearly 5,000 miles apart.

The Caribbean is only a small stage in the tragedies that have plagued the world-wide luxury cruise industry. While many people enjoy cruising vacations without incident, there nevertheless appears to be an inordinate number of cruise line accidents at sea -- accidents that may have been the result of an organized attempt to profit from the misery of others. Like it or not, Ben Bass finds himself squarely in the middle of the action in this, his latest adventure.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Jul 25, 2014
• ISBN: 9781312383456

Book preview

Debonaire

DEBONAIRE

Revision II

Copyright © 2014 by Dave Moruzzi

All rights reserved

ISBN 978-1-312-38345-6

This work is licensed under the Creative

Common Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported

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Electronic Books by Dave Moruzzi

Abbondanza

Lulu.com, Apple iBooks & Barnes & Noble; 2011

Bight

Lulu.com, Apple iBooks & Barnes & Noble; 2012

Caicos

Lulu.com, Apple iBooks & Barnes & Noble; 2013

FRONTISPIECE

PROLOGO

The three clandestine agents struggled ashore on Lybia’s Mediterranean coast in the wee hours of early April 2011, unopposed and, they hoped, undetected.  Their code names were Able, Baker and Dog, and those were the only names they would call each other during this incursion.  There was no "Charlie".  There would have been a Fox but that member of this initial NATO air combat control team, a soldier of the Brigade des Forces Spéciales Terre or French Special Forces Brigade (BFST), had broken his leg two days before the planned mission.  It was too late to find a suitable replacement.

As the launch that dropped them in waist-deep water reversed course and returned to sea, the three slogged their ninety pound packs up the sand and into the old Roman ruin known as Leptis Magna.  Their first task was to locate and establish an operational base in one of the remaining subterranean passageways of the Severan Basilica, built in the third century AD by the Roman Emperor Lucius Septimius Severus.  Able donned his night vision goggles and lead the trio into the ruins along the Cardo, the ancient north-south road.

Able was a member of the U.K. Special Boat Service (SBS) -- an equivalent to being an American Navy Seal.  He was trained in many disciplines, and excelled in his knowledge of Arabic and Latin writing, ancient history, and could speak in several desert tongues.  He was over six feet tall, weighing 210 pounds, and was an SBS trainer in martial arts.  This was to be his last operation -- he was facing forced retirement.  The team silently moved along the Cardo and other uncovered paths, reaching the basilica in only 15 minutes. At that point, Baker moved silently past Able and scanned the area for any infrared return, finding only the occasional palm rat.  The team entered the passage and began to unload their packs.

Unknown to the rest of the team, the U.S. member Baker was actually CIA.  During the quick NATO team training, he had represented himself by his former occupation as an Army Ranger -- neglecting to mention that he had accepted an early discharge following an investigation into missing military inventories.  The U.S. Army didn’t have enough evidence to prosecute anyone, so they selected the Ranger responsible for team supplies and quietly separated him.  He was immediately recruited by the CIA especially for operations like this one.  Although he didn’t speak Arabic, he had other language and all the military talents they wanted.  Baker was as bald as a cue ball and sported a full black beard.  Among the three, he looked most like a local Arab.

The member known as Dog was the real local talent.  He was both the weakest and, at the same time, the most valuable member of the team.  Dog was a southern Italian who had spent a great deal of his youth in Libya, living the life of a street thug. He returning to Sicily, when his situation in Tripoli became too uncomfortable.  He wasn’t a particularly gifted criminal and, when he moved across the strait of Messina to the Italian mainland, he made a life-changing move. 

A Calabrian magistrate who became tired of seeing this man in front of him for petty crimes gave him a choice; it was either accept a long prison sentence or enlist in the Italian Army.  It was an easy choice.  He chose the army and, eventually, Dog became a sergeant in the Special Forces Dragi Battaglione Acquisione Obiettivi or Observation & Acquisition Battalion Dragon.   Back in Lybia, his value as a man who knew the area had to be balanced with his inability to be a team player.  His mates in this hastily organized trio were never completely comfortable that Dog would put mission objectives ahead of an unknown personal agenda. It wasn’t a good situation, yet they had little choice but to try to work together.

Their primary mission had two main objectives.  First they were to confirm or deny that the Libyan Army had moved tanks into the historical site, which Qadhafi’s generals might have thought a sanctuary from NATO air attacks.  Secondly, and only of the situation provided, they were to liaise with rebel forces and help direct NATO aircraft attacks against suitable targets.  Once they had unloaded their packs, Baker and Dog moved out in the darkness to reconnoiter while Able sent the appropriate radio signals to the NATO command center afloat in the Mediterranean.   They had reached their objective and were performing their first task as the night moved closer to false dawn.

- ————— -

Young Muhammad grabbed his sack of false Roman coins and slipped into Leptis Magna in the early hours, as he had been doing regularly for over a year.  Just like the routine his older brother used to follow before he left to join the Libyan army, Muhammad’s job was to make sure that visiting tourists could, occasionally and with a little help, uncover a relic from the past.  The war made tourist visits to Leptis too dangerous and the days of tourism had dwindled away to nothing.  But Muhammad and his family hung on to their unofficial positions as guides with the hope that the war would soon be over and tourists would return.

The boy moved into theatre and took center stage.  With a grand gesture, he mimicked the opera star he had seen on television months ago before electricity was cut off, and sang a verse he knew by heart.  After a deep bow, he skipped off into the surrounding sand and planted a few coins here and there.  He was just past the old market, about half way between the theatre and the Severan Basilica, when he saw the two huge army tanks covered with camouflage netting.  Muhammad stopped and quickly slid into the shadows of some huge, limestone slabs.  The tanks had just started their engines and were about to move out from under the cover, when the lead tank was struck with an air-to-surface missile.  If it were not for the limestone slabs, Muhammad would have been blown to bits. 

As it was, the boy suffered temporary hearing loss.  Therefore, as he dug himself deeper into his area of protection, he wasn’t able to hear the second blast, nor the NATO fighters that screamed overhead.  This missile completely missed the second tank but blew a large hole in an area of Leptis Magna that had never been uncovered.  By the time Muhammad recovered from the traumatic attack, the tank had moved far away from the ruins, the dust had settled, and the boy was becoming quite hungry.  Hunger trumped fear, and Muhammad slipped out of Leptis Magna to return to his home with a tale that would grow with each telling.

ANTIPASTO

Chapter One: Aerarium Severus

Able quickly returned the laser designator to its case and scrambled back towards the basilica.  He knew that the second tank had escaped and that the team’s presence in the ruins most likely compromised.  What he didn’t know was that Dog had screwed up.  Dog was supposed to be laser marking the second tank but, instead, he had propped the laser designator up on a rock and then hunkered down.  The blast from the first explosion shifted the laser and the next guided missile dutifully followed the errant spot allowing the second tank to move out of the ruins untouched.  The missile exploded in a section of the Leptis Magna ruins that had yet to be excavated or explored.  It wasn’t until Baker slipped into the basilica and knocked Dog to the ground with one swift round-house punch, that the truth came out.  Baker’s job, during the morning attack on the tanks the team discovered the previous evening, was to keep contact with the NATO fighter planes, and guard the team from any other regular Libyan army forces. 

You stupid son of a bitch! Baker hissed in an emphasized whisper.  I saw what you did with the laser.  Now the place will be crawling with Qadhafi’s troops.

The punch, which was deflected by a raised arm triggered by Dog’s street-fighting instincts, didn’t really do the man any injury, other than a blow to his pride.  As he hit the ground, he was already reaching for the knife in his boot.  Able saw the whole action and quickly moved between the other two, stepping firmly but gently on Dog’s knife hand.  It didn’t take a genius to realize that Dog had put the team in extreme jeopardy.  But fighting among the team would only increase the danger.  Able helped Dog up and held the two apart until the knife was returned to Dog’s boot.  Then he pushed the team into action. 

Knock it off, Baker.  We need to hang together and Dog is the key to our finding a way out of here.  Let’s first see what damage the missile did and then we can make a plan B. I figure we have to be out of Leptis Magna in the next 24 hours at the most.

They collected the remaining equipment -- Dog’s laser designator was destroyed by the errant explosion -- and the trio moved cautiously toward the area of the newly exposed ruins.  The extensive settlement was over 2,500-years-old and in decay for the last 1,600.  To date, only about one third had been cleared of the ever-shifting desert sands. 

The explosion had opened a cavernous entrance to an underground complex.  Able pushed his way into the opening and brushed the sand off two large blocks that must have been the lintel over the portal. There were some letters on the lintel, but erosion had left gaps.  The remaining letters and gaps looked like they could have been two words: A    AR  VM  SEV  R  S.

Baker asked, What do you make of it, Able?  You are our Latin expert.

Able took out a scratch pad and copied the letters.  He was trying to recall the period when Leptis Magna was populated by their most noteworthy citizen, Septimius Severus. 

He began to think aloud, It was in the second century AD, I believe.  A Carthaginian African, who was born here in Leptis Magna, eventually became an emperor of the unholy" Roman imperium of that period.  His name was Lucius Septimius Severus Augustus and he was emperor for about 18 years.  The second word could be SEVERUS."

Dog, who had been hanging back salving his hurt ego and plotting revenge, said, Aerarium.  The first word is aerarium; the latin word for treasury.  This must be the local treasury of Emperor Severus.  He pushed through, moving both Able and Baker aside, and began clearing rocks and sand from the choked entrance.

Baker shrugged and, addressing his question to Able again, asked, What would an emperor need with a local treasury?

Able joined Dog in moving debris and provided a quick lesson in history.  "It’s a long story, but I’ll try to make it brief.  In the year 191 AD, Severus was already a capable general in the Roman military.  The Roman Emperor Commodus gave Severus command of the legions in Pannonia, an area in eastern Europe where Hungary is today.  Commodus was assassinated the next year and Emperor Pertinax took over.  It wasn’t long before Pertinax was killed by the Praetorian Guard.  At that point, Severus’s legions named him the Roman Emperor and he quickly returned to Rome.  When Pertinax was murdered, a Roman named Didius Julianus somehow bought the emperorship at an auction.  That didn’t sit well with the Roman Senate so they had Julianus murdered, and Severus entered Rome with no local opposition."

193 AD was a bloody year in the history of the Roman Empire. Dog added. Didn’t Severus have another emperor-in-name to contend with?

Yes he did.  The Roman army in Syria claimed their leader, Pescennius Niger, was the emperor.  Severus quickly settled things in Rome.  He executed Pertinax’s murders, dismissed the Praetorian Guard putting his own loyal troops in charge, and then moved east and crushed Niger’s forces.

I always knew the Roman Empire was bloody, but that takes the cake.  Baker said.  Let me help you move the short half of this lintel.  With Baker’s assistance, they grappled with large block. 

Able said, It has been called The Year of Five Emperors.  He grunted with strain as the large piece of carved marble was pushed aside.  Whew, that was heavy.  Severus went on to expand the empire and, with each new conquest, more gold was obtained, most of which was used to finance the next battle.  So, it is not unreasonable to assume he also brought a fair amount of treasure back to his home town.

Together, the three men continued to move debris from what appeared to be an entrance blown open by the errant missile.  As Dog pushed aside another large piece of the destroyed entrance, he made a discovery.  The missile that had slammed into the ruins in the area where the old market would have been, had not only destroyed the entrance to an ancient treasury, had also tore open the structure’s mosaic floor.

Shine a light in here. Dog said.  The tiled floor has been breached and it exposed a hidden subsurface area.

Able passed his pocket flashlight to Baker, who was closer to Dog at the moment.  The light’s thin beam panned across the sand covered entrance tiles until it found the breach.  As the trio let their eyes adjust to the spot, a returned glimmer of brilliance caught their collective eyes.  Could that be gold?  Forgotten for the moment was their precarious situation.  Dog had put his anger aside, at least for the moment, and they all were infected with gold fever.

- ————— -

Last evening’s designer conference at Boynton Boats in Ft. Lauderdale had been a successful review of progress on their newest boat design and the brainchild of the co-managers, Tommy and John Pascal.  The meeting had been organized by their able assistant Fargo Dane, and it essentially froze the boat’s design for initial production. Boynton Boats had spent considerable capital on market research, much more than would have been necessary for a new model of a cruising sailboat or new sports fisher power boat.  This time, the company would be building a much larger boat with a yet-to-be developed customer base.  If it weren’t for the support of Ben Bass, the company’s owner, the dreams of the Pascal brothers would have never gotten off the ground.

Captain Ben Bass had inherited the company following the murder of the rightful owner, Sally Boynton.  That crime had been committed on orders from Sally’s uncle Jack, who had probably also caused his brother’s death in his attempt to control the company.  Mystery still shrouds the circumstances surrounding the subsequent death of Jack Boynton, but that didn’t alter the fact that Ben Bass was the owner.

Ben wasn’t exactly thrilled with the idea.  He liked his life the way it was, and he was determined that it should remain so.  The solution was to become an absentee owner; one where he could spend most of his time sailing the Caribbean aboard Abbondanza, his own, highly-modified ketch-rigged sailboat.  At Boynton Boats, Ben’s selection of the Pascal brothers to be the on-site co-managers proved to be a masterful decision.  These two gentlemen have been very successful in running the company, with minimum interference from Ben Bass.

When Tommy and John first approached Ben about their ideas, Ben urged caution and suggested they beef up their market research.  The second time they met, during one of Ben’s rare return visits to Ft. Lauderdale, they had complied a convincing set of market data -- data that Ben would take away for an in-depth review on his own.  The Pascals wanted to build a replica of a Chesapeake schooner, specifically for the luxury cruise industry.  Their research showed that there were many weekend sailors who would be willing to pay a premium to sail aboard such a boat, provided they could do it at a comfort level akin to that available in the large cruise lines.

Ben, who had been in Florida to arrange the purchase of an aircraft for his personal use, returned to St Martin and the Windward Islands Bare Boats (WIBB), a company owned by Sam Ko.  Ben Bass had been working for Sam for years and he was determined that he would not let that change.  He liked Sam and the feelings were mutual.  He had helped Sam Ko expand the WIBB company, which had additional locations on Guadalupe, Martinique and Honduras, and he had an appreciation for Ko’s business acumen.  Together they poured over the marketing data for the new boat and decided that, as Boynton Boats was faced with a lack of a specific customer base; they would enter the cruise business as partners.  The only major decisions left open where the application of new technologies and what to call this new class of sailboat.  Ben placed a call to Tommy Pascal.

Hi Tommy, it’s Ben and I have some good news.  As you know, the one thing your marketing data lacked was an established customer base.  Well, Sam Ko and I decided we will be Boynton Boat’s first customers.

Wow!  I guess that is your offhanded way to say we can build the boat.  John will be pleased.  You know we both have put a lot of hours in this project.  Do you have any specific requirements -- anything that you think we might have overlooked in the design?

"Since you mentioned it, I do have a few suggestions.  As you know, I have been using Abbondanza to test out some state-of-the-art technologies.  I’d like to see how much of these new systems apply to the new boat, and if they do, perhaps we can incorporate a few in your plans without changing the design."

Tommy said, That’s an absolutely great idea.  I know the details are all here at Boynton Boats.  I’ll check first with the manufacturers.  It’s possible that we can get them to support our program at a minimum cost, as we will most likely be employing their work in a production vessel for the first time.

My second suggestion has to do with naming the class of boat.  We will need a good name.  The boat’s lines and the raked masts are definitely recognizable as akin to the Chesapeake schooner of old, but we want the boat to have her own cachet."

I see what you mean, Ben.  Why don’t we ask Fargo Dane to work on this project?  It is something that he would be great at doing.

My thinking exactly.  Perhaps we could have Fargo run a company-wide contest for a classy name.  We could give the winner a free week bare boat lease at the WIBB location of his or her choice.

Splendid idea.  I will get Fargo starting on that right away.  Tommy then shifted back to the proposed new venture.  What do you and Sam have in mind, Ben?  What size will your order be?

Sam and I will commit to three boats for the initial order.  We have yet to determine exactly where we will site these boats, but we have time to do our own homework.

Ben and Tommy spent the remainder of the conversation on the small but important details for such a risky business.  They agreed that Fargo would run his boat class naming contest and present the results in time for the next month’s conference call.

- ————— -

"…this just in from our financial desk.  The cruise liner Circo Delfino is dead in the water in the Gulf of Mexico with over 4,000 people aboard.  A fire in the engine room has completely disabled the huge vessel, which is apparently without even the basics in sanitation, food refrigeration, or cabin temperature control where the mid-day temperature in the Gulf tops 35 degrees Celsius or 95 degrees Fahrenheit.  Without power, the galley cannot cook hot meals.   Passengers with functioning cell phones report it is taking over three hours for the beleaguered crew to serve peanut butter sandwiches and warm soft drinks.  And further, they are being directed to use plastic bags for human waste elimination due to a lack of functioning toilets.  People are sleeping on the deck to avoid the heat and stench of the boat’s interior.  Two tugs have been dispatched to tow the Delfino to Mobile, Alabama, the nearest port.  Analyst’s anticipant a huge drop in Circo Corp’s stock price.  This is BBC Atlantic reporting."

Chapter Two: LEG ∙ XIIII ∙ GEM ∙ M ∙ V

Baker played the light across the cracked floor to determine if it was safe to proceed.  He found additional cracks, but none