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Storm’s Eye

Allan Onik

    The six motorboats closed in on Prince Abdulaziz. The pirate captain spoke to his second in command while holding a gold-plated AK-47. “Hurricane Irma should be closing in. We have less than five hours to extract The Graff Pink.”
    The other pirates all held RPGs and AK47s, and they began to grapple up the sides of the super yacht in swarms. An alarm sounded and the captain could hear intensive gunfire. Reminds of a day at the beach in Somalia. He grinned. After 10 minutes the exchanges sputtered, then stopped.
    His bloodied second in command looked over the yacht rail at him as he crouched in the motorboat. “All clear. Bin Fahd’s security team has been neutralized and the safe will be accessed when we extract the codes from his highness. You can board now.”
    The captain climbed the hook latter and passed the masses of bloodied bodies on the deck and cabins. When he entered the master suite he noted the prince tied on a red suede chair with six pirates surrounding him pointing their AKs.
    “We will cut off your hands,” the prince spat. The captain smashed him in the face with the butt of his custom AK. Blood poured out of his nose like a faucet.
    “You know why we are here. The Graff Pink and it’s 46-million-dollar value. Most expensive piece of jewelry on earth. And you were going to give it to your wife. A waste. I will buy a castle in Somalia.”
    “It’s a joke! It must be! Well, I will give you the codes. Just don’t expect a quick death once my assassins extract it from you.”
    A pirate punched the prince in the gut with brass knuckles. He spit blood.

    From the yacht hospital, the prince watched CNN and drank red wine.
    Hurricane Irma has battered the Caribbean and Florida Keys, leaving billions in damages in her wake. After reporting the theft of The Graff Pink, a mammoth mega piece from his super yacht, Prince Abdul Aziz Bin Fahd of the Saudi Royal Family was pleased to be informed that the band of Somali pirated who heisted the ring were capsized by the storm on their way to a middle man in Cuba. His extraction teams have already returned Graff to the yacht.
    The prince turned off the TV. He took out his IV and headed to his suite which smelled of antiseptic. Pinned to his wall was a gold-plated AK-47, and in a jar of preserve at his bed post a pair of charred hands.

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