Captured

Chapter 35. Quietly tracking a fugitive mass murderer. A tiny reminder here: this book is 100% fiction.

I have not received a message like the one I got today from the `Mother Ship' in DC (2201 C Street NW) in a long time. The subject line was: FCA option, TOP SECRET.

The summary went something like this: I was being activated by State to apprehend a very dangerous international fugitive with a very large cash reward, tax free, we're talking one of the biggest ones I've ever seen: nine million USA dollars (in cash) for live capture or three mil for a dead body that DNA/fingerprint matched the samples on file.

Remember the missing passenger jet from March, 2014? It was Malaysian Airlines flight 370 going from Kuala Lumpur Malaysia to Beijing China. The flight took off normally (carrying 239 souls) heading toward a navigation point called IGARI over the South China Sea. Then without warning communications with the crew ceased, the plane changed course several times and was eventually estimated to have gone down in the southern Indian Ocean southwest of Perth Australia in about 9000 feet of water. No wreckage or debris was ever found after the most expensive search in history on two oceans, the plane simply vanished. The searching eventually stopped but the investigation was ongoing. Over time different police agencies started to look closely into the history of every person on the plane, including the crew. They replayed the scanner recordings of each piece of luggage, and the body scanner images of each person as they passed through security checkpoints (you were probably told on the TV the images were not stored).

Different government agencies ruled out a terrorist (political) attack because there were no communications or claims of responsibility, but some people felt it could have been a hijacking done to kill one or more specific people on the flight. Since the crew suddenly stopped communicating with air traffic control some felt the crew and passengers were quickly incapacitated. The best way to do that to a commercial jet liner at 35000 feet is to rapidly vent cabin air and everyone on board simply falls asleep and dies minutes later from hypoxia.

Years went by and without explanation the wreckage was suddenly reported in the media as being located on the bottom of the Indian Ocean southwest of Perth Australia. The Boeing 777 was found intact but upside down on the ocean floor. The voice and flight data recorders were never recovered because the fuselage was fully intact. They had no ability to safely enter the wreckage.

At a depth of nearly two miles underwater there is no ability to cut into the fuselage or remove the recorders. They are designed for crash scenarios and are often thrown free and found by fire department rescue people, but in this case the Australian Navy using remote micro submarines could not enter the wreck, which is now considered a grave site.

They cannot enter the fuselage of the downed airplane because at that depth any energy applied to enter the fuselage is also equally applied to the submarine housing the crew operating the equipment. Like they say even a light bulb exploding outside the submersible at the Titanic wreck might destroy the sub and everyone inside. It's the same problem with an airliner on the bottom at that depth. They had to leave the jet alone and give up trying to recover the recorders, which were not designed to withstand those depths regardless, so they took hundreds of photos and left the site, but logged its exact location. It is likely one or more navy subs will scan the bottom again for any related wreckage that might explain why the jet ended up there instead of an airport in Beijing.

The latest theory was someone on board was hired to kill a specific passenger(s) onboard the flight. He checked a bag with a specialty device inside that would not show up on luggage x-ray. At a specific time and location that passenger would put on his own oxygen mask but remained belted in his seat and remotely triggered a small shot in the cargo hold, firing a bullet of some type through the fuselage to let cabin air rapidly escape, too fast for the crew to react. Sudden cabin depressurized at 35000 feet would render everyone unconscious within 20 seconds, and dead a few minutes after that. The airplane in autopilot mode kept flying until it ran out of fuel, or someone took over the controls.

It is believed that by shooting the fuselage in the cargo hold would almost eliminate the dramatic depressurization typically seen in movies (like the 1969 movie: Airport). When the navy found the plane no breakage was seen on the fuselage leading them to think the bullet penetrated into the landing gear area so it was not visible on the outside of the jet. Because the breach happened in the cargo hold there was no sign of depressurization in the passenger compartment except everyone suddenly started collapsing.

The hijacker then kicked-in the cockpit door and dragged the unconscious pilot from his seat and flew the plane slowly down to the surface of the Indian Ocean and did a textbook perfect belly landing just like the jet that landed intact on the Hudson River. There is even a ten page checklist for water landing in the handbook of the 777.

With time to escape the slowly sinking jet liner he removed one of the many life rafts from inside the cabin, and some water bottles and blew out an emergency escape hatch in the ceiling and climbed up on seatbacks, tossed the raft outside, then climbed out onto the roof. Then he used a sat phone to call for rescue and collect the rest of his fee.

After returning to Perth the hijacker received his cash and boarded a flight in Perth Australia to Penang Malaysia where he now had enough wealth now to live the rest of his life in retirement. This man was now the subject of a quiet manhunt with a nine million dollar bounty for his live capture, he had to be surrendered-alive to an Interpol facility in Italy. Upon arrival the agent would be issued a receipt for live delivery and then the mission is over. The last part would be to quickly return home and wait for a phone call from the courier with the reward cash who was en-route to your location.

I should add here that there were three people on Malaysian Air 370 with prison tracking implants, and of all the IDs and other means of tracking (like cell phones) there was only one passenger from flight 370 who is still moving around but is officially listed as missing, presumed deceased. That information was kept secret until he was in custody, and brought before a judge to hear the charges and learn he could bond out of jail with a cash bond of $10 million Euros.

Long after the plane disappeared and the searches were called off someone in the CIA discovered there were three passengers on that flight supposedly with prison tracking implants. For the sake of doing things completely, he scanned the satellite database and found one displayed movement soon after the plane would have run out of fuel. Next, they spent five weeks (full time) trying to confirm if he in fact had the correct implant serial number. They even went to Vietnam and interviewed the guard who said he implanted it disguised as an immunization shot in the right deltoid muscle. He confirmed it was that man and that was the correct number, he double checked the package and the syringe as it came from the factory disguised as an MMR pre-loaded vaccine. When injecting tracking implants disguised as vaccines the prison medical staff peeled the label off the syringe and stuck it to the chart as proof what the prisoner actually received.

Next, they sent an undercover agent (an elderly woman) to the location and she identified the man based on his prison photos taken near the same time as the chip was implanted in his shoulder. It was a full size hi-res digital color two-view photo.

The suspect was identified and confirmed to be living near the city of George Town Malaysia, which was my next destination. This time I am barely bringing anything except five sets of stainless steel handcuffs (two for ankles and three for wrists) and two spray cans of the new type-V germ warfare stuff, pepper spray, and I picked-up a spray can of sedative gas. Once inhaled it puts most adults to sleep within seconds and lasts about 70 minutes to two hours.

Within 24 hours of activation I was in the Madrid airport waiting to board a flight to Singapore with a connecting flight to Penang. Yes, I was scared but for nine million dollars I was willing to take some big chances. It would have been much worse had I decided not to take this mission, I really loved this kind of work despite how it made me sick from the constant level of fear and anxiety. I get nauseated and pounding headaches if my anxiety level stays high for a while. I also packed several tiny doses of an anxiety med called lorazepam, you put the tiny pill under your tongue and relief is usually minutes away.

After I arrived in Madrid I had a five hour wait until my flight to Singapore started boarding, so I wandered around the airport and tried to calm myself. Actually the better place to sit and wait would be Changi International Airport in Singapore, I've been there before, and it's a fantastic airport with tons of stuff to see and do.

While I was waiting to board I opened a secure folder of documents from State about the fugitive, it contained almost every scrap of information about him from birth to yesterday. They even had his facial scan taken at the airport in Kuala Lumpur Malaysia.

He looked much younger than his actual age, which was 44 years old. He was a former military combat pilot turned spy, a real James Bond type guy for the Chinese military. He had brown skin, medium length black hair, black eyes, he looked very slender, and had bright white teeth and somewhat puffy Asian lips. He almost looked Pinoy to me. I thought to myself `here is a man who sat in a pressurized cabin with 240 other humans and triggered a small blast in his luggage which ruptured the fuselage and caused the cabin to lose pressure within nine seconds and with no warning suddenly everyone started falling asleep, including the stewardesses and the flight crew. Within thirty seconds of activating his device in the cargo hold he was the only person left alive on the airplane. He sat among those people and killed every one of them without hesitation; men, women, and children. That is one cold blooded mother.' I also considered there were no Mount Everest Sherpas on the flight or he might have unwanted company to deal with.

He got up and walked to the cockpit door and with a couple kicks broke the latch and opened the door. He walked inside the cockpit and released the captain's seatbelt and then grabbed his arms and dragged him out of his seat and left his body on the cockpit floor. He sat in the captain's seat and disengaged the autopilot, shut off the radios, shut off the transponders, set the controls to cruise at 10,000 feet ASL, and changed course three times. Once the altimeter showed 10,000 ft he took off his oxygen and piloted the plane until the sun came up and they were nearly out of fuel. He did a textbook perfect belly landing with the gear-up on the calm surface of the Indian Ocean. After splashdown on the calm sea he left the cockpit and walked down the center aisle looking at row after row of freshly dead passengers to check that his two target passengers were as dead as all the others. It was later learned they became targeted because they had been discussing blowing the whistle on plans to weaponize the flu virus and release it in the USA as the first bio attack during peacetime. This was an attempt to silence the two scientists before they could warn anyone about gain of function research.

Jetliners that routinely fly over water carry multiple self-inflating rafts, he grabbed one from an overhead luggage compartment and pulled it out into the aisle. Then he stepped up on passenger seats and used two emergency handles to jettison an emergency escape hatch in the ceiling. Once he had a good view of the sunny blue sky above the Indian Ocean he stepped up onto the arm rests, then the seat backs, then the overhead luggage racks and shoved the self-inflating raft through the hatch and quickly climbed out after it. There was already sea water on the carpet in the back of the airplane by the time he climbed through the large square escape hatch.

He emerged onto the aluminum roof of the jet airliner and looked around to see where the raft landed and saw it was partially submerged near the right wing. Exposure to water automatically triggers the inflation mechanism and it would soon be fully inflated, it was just starting to inflate when he sat upright on the roof of the airplane. He crawled on his hands and knees a little way down the roof until he was centered over the wings and then sat on his butt and slid off the roof onto the partially submerged wing and then walked about 20 feet out and jumped into the raft with a pack on his back that contained a sat phone, rescue transponder, a signal mirror, and bottles of water.

After pushing the raft clear of the wing he started drifting away from the airliner and removed the sat phone from a double layer plastic bag to call his partners in Australia to advise his mission was successful, he was ready to be picked-up. They advised his ride would be on the way in less than half an hour. The man concluded his call by telling them his location in degrees, minutes, and seconds. After the call he sat in the raft and watched the airplane slowly sink. The vertical stabilizer was the last part to slip below the surface. It took approximately 21 minutes from the water landing until it was gone. After that it probably took one or two minutes to land on the bottom and probably raised a cloud of silt that clouded the area for days or even weeks.

Six hours later the seaplane arrived and circled while losing altitude then landed nearby. By that time the jet was already on the bottom of the ocean and there was no debris on the surface. They helped him inside the seaplane and the deflated raft too and took off and flew back to Jandakot Airport near Perth Australia. Back in Australia they quickly burned the raft since it was the only piece of evidence from the airliner.

The next day the missing passenger plane was headlines around the world as he received his cash payment and boarded a commercial flight to Singapore. That was the entire story as far as what happened in 2014. His goal was to resume his life living near his elderly parent's home and work at their seafood business.

After arriving in Singapore he boarded another airplane for a shorter flight north to Penang Island, where he grew up with his family before secretly returning to China where he was born and joined the military and became a pilot. His family operated a fishing charter boat service between the south end of Penang Island and Pulau Kendi Island and made a decent living selling charter fishing boat rides for tourists from all across the planet. They also operated a seafood sales business out of the family home, it occupied the entire first floor.

There were two men on-board flight 370 later believed to be the target of the killings. Both of them (it was later discovered) were scientists developing bio-weapons in China and were on the way back home after a weeklong vacation. No other passengers were ever seen after the plane disappeared, it still appears the hijacker was the only survivor. The US Government had a lot of questions they wanted him to answer and it would be safe to assume he would spend the rest of his life in custody being interrogated in US federal prisons if I was able to safely capture him and return him alive to Italy. First, Italy would put him on trial and if convicted (by the International Criminal Court) he would be transferred to the high security federal prison in the central USA. The entire mission depended on my ability to get him to Italy, alive.

As for the jet, it came to rest upside down on the ocean floor and showed almost no signs of damage, not even the landing gear were deployed, it was a totally intact passenger jet resting upside down on the bottom of the Indian Ocean. Without any damage to the fuselage the US Navy and Australian Navy deep sea submersible and remote control mini robotic subs could not enter so the voice recorder and data recorders were never recovered. They're designed to be recovered from a crashed jet, not one gently landed on the water without damage! Mini-sub pictures show the escape opening is buried under the fuselage so it cannot be entered. And any energy applied to the fuselage to gain entry would likely destroy the submersible too. And at the depth of around 9300 feet it is believed both flight recorders would have been destroyed well before the plane settled on the bottom. After four years at 9000+ feet human remains would have been reduced to tiny bone fragments and something that looks like grains of sand.

The mini robotic submersible craft looked in several windows but never identified any human remains. Pig carcass studies at various depths indicated in a shipwreck like the Titanic in April, 1912 humans sinking to the bottom would have been reduced to only small bone fragments before they landed on the bottom. Human remains inside flight 370 after two years would be reduced to bone fragments and powder on the cabin ceiling.

The name of the suspect is: Tron Singh. He was reported to be armed and extremely dangerous, a professional killer, sort of a Chinese James Bond type soldier. My plan was to take him alive and surrender him in Italy for the full reward, I was pretty sure he would attempt to escape from my custody (and would repeatedly try to kill me) but I hope he cooperated long enough for me to earn the nine million dollar reward, I could retire next year at age 38. (That makes a $250k a month pension until I reach age 76!)

Tron's face looked Pinoy to me, kind of a historic mix of Spanish and Malay DNA. He's not very big either, he's shorter than me. His medical history showed he last measured at 5'6" and 95 pounds. He has brown skin, black hair and eyes, no tats or piercings. From the neck down he could pass for a teenager. But he had very thin hair on the center-top of his head. He spoke Malay and Mandarin fluently, but genetically he is 100% Chinese but looks Pinoy. Supposedly he had two years of training (in China) learning to kill people by hand and foot and is considered armed even without any weapons. Because of that he would remain attached to something steel the entire time he was with me. And for going to the bathroom or on deck his ankles would be chained so the fastest he could walk would be a rapid shuffle.

While Tron was living in China he also learned to fly jet aircraft and spent nearly two years practicing flying different passenger jet aircraft in modern aircraft simulators, so he knew very well how to land a 777 on the ocean and be able to climb out alive and float away while the jet slowly sank.

In my hotel room I watched about the only cable channel that didn't piss me off: Malaysia Weather Channel International. I sat in bed against a stack of pillows and watched with the sound muted and music playing on my cell. I'd already eaten so there was nothing to do but hope for several hours of sleep.

While I was trying to fall asleep I received a bulletin by email from State, they found a way for me to get him back to Italy without attracting much attention or endangering hundreds more people on board a commercial passenger jet. State anticipated he would make several attempts to escape, so taking him on an airplane would be very dangerous, he might attract too much attention. On the timeline of this story as I travelled to Penang the world still wasn't aware of the discovered passenger jet on the ocean floor. That is supposed to remain secret until after Tron was arraigned and on his way to Rome in an armored transport car. For safety I was told they would chain him down to a spine board and carefully sedate him with repeated doses of phenobarbital.

They located a cargo ship that sails back and forth between George Town Penang and Brindisi Italy (on the east coast, on the Adriatic Sea) hauling rice, similar in size to Great Lakes ore haulers from back in the early 1900s. This ship is 260 feet long and 30 feet wide and sails non-stop from George Town to Italy, via the Red Sea and Suez Canal. With each trip it carried 90% of the rice consumed in Italy for two months. But it also had six small cabins for passengers, six rooms with two bunk beds each, a shared bathroom (cleaned daily), and three meals daily, it cost $800 per person and took 22 days on average. The trip was 5700 miles one-way, Penang to southeastern Italy. One advantage of transporting Tron by ship was that for most of the time he could not escape. The only time he was likely to try to escape was when the ship sailed the Suez Canal, which was a ten hour span where he could be triple cuffed to anything steel on the ship which meant the only way he could escape would be to chew off his own hands and feet. I almost wished I'd carried two more sets of handcuffs along so I could cuff him to something heavy and large so even if he got away from me he couldn't jump overboard.

The handcuffs I purchased for my personal use did not use standard keys, they used a custom key style that was much more secure. The ones I had with longer chains (commonly used on ankles) opened with a precision four-digit combination lock, and then a key turn. Those are always placed with the combination facing away from the prisoner.

There was no entertainment on shipboard, no gym, no doctor, no shops, and very few people who spoke English or Spanish. You ate with the crew and it was safe to assume the menu was rice and chicken the entire way. I saw pictures of the top deck full of chickens running around everywhere on deck.

My plan was to get in a cabin and handcuff him to something substantial made of steel and leave him there for the trip and I would feed him twice a day. Once we got on board I would probably strip him naked to discourage him from hiding anything he found he might later turn into a weapon, like a paper clip. If he acted out or got violent I'd pepper spray him, if he went berserk I'd spray him with sleep gas. He could earn more comfort by cooperating, but if he injured me I would torture him the rest of the way to Italy. Believe me, if he seriously hurt me I`d castrate him with my pocket knife and no pain meds. Then I'd toss his testicles overboard for the fish to eat.

My cell alarmed early, 0445hrs. I checked-out and took the shuttle back to the terminal and sat at my gate for two hours and watched hundreds of Asian looking people slowly arrive and try to get comfortable. There was a 777-Max at the gate waiting for us, I saw the crew arrive and walk on the plane and start getting ready to depart. Due to the length of the flight this one had two crews onboard. One crew stayed in the crew quarters near the cockpit and included three in the cockpit and eight attendants for the passengers.

After the crews were on board the ground crew started loading luggage, cargo, fuel, and several carts of food for the very long flight almost halfway around the world, Madrid to Singapore, 7100 miles. Winds would make a difference but it should take about 15 hours to fly from Madrid to Singapore.

This plane would be super heavy on take-off and probably use most of the 14,000 foot (4400 meters) runway to achieve blast-off speed. The 777 max was a two-engine plane but they were huge, like you could stand in the inlet and jump rope. Yes, GE, the same morons that helped design the Fukushima Nuclear Plant in Japan and put the emergency generators near the waterfront and the electrical switching gear in the basement also designed the engines on this aircraft. I wouldn't trust anyone from that company to babysit my parakeet.

We boarded on time and left on time, I had a seat in business class near one of the wing exits so I had leg room and only one person beside me, I had an aisle seat. Thank God I did not see many children or babies, I saw no strollers, and no drunks either, and drunks on airplanes are the worst.

Drunks on airplanes piss me off because they won't follow instructions, they cannot shut up, and they cannot do as told by the flight crew. I think you should have to be sober to be inside an airport either as a visitor, employee, or passenger. If it was up to me being impaired at an airport should be treated as serious as driving a car while impaired.

I took some pills and slept about half the flight and missed the good movies too, but at least the other passengers were behaved. Everyone cooperated with the flight crew, nobody got drunk, and the cabin remained drama-free.

The time zone changes really screwed me up, we left Madrid late in the morning and arrived in Singapore at 4pm local time, it was raining out and I swear it felt like 101 degrees and 101% humidity, the air was foggy and rain water was dripping off everything. I needed a shower really bad, I could smell myself. There is a 10 hour time difference between Madrid and Penang, and three hours difference between Brindisi and Tangier.

Yes our flight made it to Singapore without the engines catching on fire, hooray!

After walking off the airplane I was directed to a waiting shuttle cart (along with six other passengers) and driven across the enormous Singapore Changi Airport to the gate for my flight to Penang. Good luck located the Penang airport in the far southeast corner of the island, just 1.4 miles from my target! My connecting flight was on an older twin-engine propeller (tail dragger) aircraft with maybe 30 seats and a very narrow aisle, the flight from Singapore to Penang was 395 miles and took three hours and twenty minutes. I wanted to stop for something to eat at Changi Airport but my connecting flight was boarding when I got off the plane from Madrid. I wanted to eat some Chicken-Rice with dipping sauces.

In Penang I got a hotel room at the Lexis Suites on the beach less than a mile from where the tracking implant appeared on my screen. According to NSA for State the ship I was to board was loading with raw, un-milled Malay rice at the cruise ship port in George Town. They already reserved a bunk room for two on-board the `rice boat.' The ship's actual name was MSC Express, registered in Liberia, which I think is on the west coast of Africa. The ship's captain was informed I was transporting a prisoner to Italy and would be in chains the entire voyage. Once we get in the room I'll chain him to something made of steel, and I'm not going to make them loose either, as long as his hands don't turn blue then they're okay. But enough planning, tomorrow morning I have to actually grab him and not let him get away, and not get killed in the process. The fugitive is supposed to be some sort of Bruce Lee wannabe, so I'm going to be super careful around him. But in all honesty the papers said he's 5'6" and 95 pounds so I don't know how much of a threat he could be. I mean Larry Fine was about 5'4" tall and he never once beat Moe Howard who was like 5'5".

I slept that night on the bed and it felt nice to not be in an airplane seat. I really hate flying commercial.

At 5:30am I was up and ate the free breakfast buffet down in the meeting room, and then I gathered my stuff and took another shower. Then I left on foot, walking west down the main street along the waterfront. It was so hot and muggy I flagged down a taxi and got a ride in air conditioning to the seafood market (like 3500 feet down the road) where Tron's parents sell their daily catch. I got out of the cab and walked in the market and looked at all the fish, spread out on ice inside glass-front cabinets. They had fish I never saw before, had no idea what they were but they all looked big and healthy when caught. I don't think I have ever seen fresh octopus or cuttlefish before. The place was very busy and crowded. I think when I arrived there were at least 15 little old ladies huddled in front of the glass display cases together looking at fish. None of them were over five feet tall but they sure could talk fast.

With one eye I looked at the fish and slowly moved sideways to look in all the display cases. With the other eye I watched closely for that slender middle aged man posing as a local fisherman, working in his parent's business. I noticed that some of the people working there were speaking Mandarin and not Malay. All the signs on the walls were in Malay, I spoke neither language and was pretending to be interested in the fish, but the store was packed with locals buying dinner for later today. Everyone was arguing over prices.

Looking through a doorway behind the counter I saw someone in the back room standing beside a table, it looked like he was hand-descaling and gutting fish. I stood in that spot watching him work but pretending to be looking at the fish on ice instead. Then he stopped and carried out a rather large fish and set it inside one of the cabinets. When he bent over to set the fish on ice I got a look at him and saw he was losing his hair on top and he was the correct size and looked a lot like my target, I was certain it was Tron. Most of the men I saw had tats and earrings but this man had none of that, which is also an identifier. I stayed and watched a while longer and took note of a back kitchen door, so I left the store and walked around the outside and stood against the wall near the back door with the can of pepper spray in one hand and cuffs in the other.

About ten minutes later the screen door burst open and he walked outside in a hurry, he didn't notice me at all. He looked like he was lighting a cigarette so I moved quickly up behind him and sprayed the top of his head, which still got in his eyes and made him put both hands on his face. His move put one of his arms in the perfect spot to cuff him to me, I grabbed his right wrist. Once that stainless steel cuff clicked he could not run away, and if he struggled I'd spray him again.

I quickly shoved him down on the ground and pulled his left wrist around behind him and got both wrists cuffed together. Tron is a small man, so I lifted him off the ground and got him to his feet but he still could not see or do anything but go along. We walked toward the street while I watched for a taxi. When he got the chance he tried to kick me but I was ready and pulled him backward to the ground and chained his ankles together, then got him back to his feet. We re-started our walk toward town with him shuffling along and his eyes on fire.

There are a lot of hotels in this area so there are lots of cabs driving around, probably 60% of them already have passengers but I finally got one to stop and we got in back, I had to shove Tron inside and told the driver "Cruise ship pier in George Town please," and off we went. I reached money out of my pocket and paid the driver $20E for the 3.8 mile ride along the east coast of the island. Tron remained nearly silent the entire time.

I kept the pepper spray in my other hand with a finger on the nozzle just in case but I guess one heavy spray was enough so far. We arrived at the pier 20 minutes later and got out and started walking up the ramp, but I had to stop at security and show my State Department ID and explained the man in cuffs was a prisoner, `... my government already paid for two in one bunk-room on board the MSC Express. The guard had to make two calls then he smiled and gestured for us to follow him. We went together through the steel security gate and walked slowly up the ramp to the pier, then all the way to the far south end where a rusty old cargo ship was being loaded from shore by two long tubes. There was a cloud of white dust billowing out of the open cargo holds as they pumped tons of raw rice into the cargo hold. We walked up a long steel gangway on the side of the ship and he had us stop and wait while he got the purser to check us in and assign a room, I had to show my government ID again and identify my prisoner. I showed him the arrest warrant from Interpol as his ID.

I couldn't tell them Tron Singh was too dangerous to get on any airplane.

We were shown the dining room, the passenger rooms, and passenger waiting areas outside and inside, our room, and he demonstrated the door key worked. Then they all left and I asked Tron if he needed to use the bathroom but he didn't speak English or Spanish, so I guided him to the bathroom and pointed and he nodded yes. I walked him near the urinal and un-did his pants but they fell to his ankles and he shuffled closer and peed in the urinal then shuffled back. I lifted his pants and buttoned them and zipped them too. As I raised his pants I noticed he had a huge crop of black pubes and a cut dick which was dark, limp, and small. My wrist brushed over his head but he never reacted. Then I walked him to the sink and offered to wash his face and around his eyes and he let me do that. He bent over and rested his chest on the sink counter while I reached around and used my hands to rinse his face. A lot of people will say that using water on someone with pepper spray in his eyes will only make it worse and that may be true, but I also wanted to get it off his forehead and this face and nose so he wouldn't re-expose himself by lying in bed.

After a decent washing I walked him to our room and put him (face down) on the lower bunk and cuffed him to a steel railing at the head of his bunk. There was another railing at the foot end so I used the two long cuff sets to chain his wrists and ankles to the bunk frame. He would earn whatever freedom I gave him. No matter how well he may behave I will not trust him, but unfortunately I have to get very close to him, invade his personal space too.

After he was strapped down he kept watching me, not sure why.

I had weak 5G service in the cabin so I used my cell translator app and told him the plan and that I would not hesitate to kill and/or torture him with great pain. Even though he looks innocent and young I knew he's had extensive training in how to kill people with his hands and feet so I treated him as if I was escorting a hyena to Italy. I might have to teach him some ground rules first. I told him the trip would take 2-3 weeks, us together in this room, him chained to the ship. If he struggled, hurt me, or tried to escape I would spray him and if he made me mad I'd take off his pants and cut off his testicles with no pain meds and toss them overboard for the fish. After that my next step would be to amputate his legs, one at a time, without pain meds, just my pocket knife, needle and thread.

I didn't want to tell Tron the entire story but he was going to stand trial in Rome if he survives three weeks with me, there are a lot of people on the planet who want him dead, he will be safer travelling with me. I will be surrendering him to authorities in the port city where the ship ties up in Italy, they will take him in a medical van the rest of the way to Rome. This was the first time I was going to surrender my prisoner to Interpol other than Rome, I had no idea they had multiple offices in Italy. This was spelled out in writing by Interpol according to State. I got a copy of the arrest warrant and reward notice. I think Brindisi was their east coast Interpol office.

As of the day we set sail for Italy, the fact that one passenger survived the crash of flight 370 was still a closely kept secret. I expect that if he arrived alive and talking at the Interpol complex in Rome that shortly after his arrival the story will be released in segments to the media.

`Breaking news: they found that missing airliner seven months ago and someone survived the crash. Oh by the way the survivor is in custody in Rome accused of killing everyone on board and landing the plane on the ocean and escaping on a life raft somehow.' I could almost imagine the movie being shown around the world. I should write the book, I got the perfect chance to interview him but no ability to talk to him, what a waste.

The longshoremen finished loading rice about three hours after we boarded the ship. Next, they used cranes to remove the gangway and set heavy steel hatches over the deck openings and once those were in place they dropped the heavy ropes and two tug boats moved us from the pier and our voyage started, slowly at first until we cleared the busy waters near the port and around the Island of Penang. It looked like a nice place, I think I'd like to come back to Penang and maybe spend a couple weeks on the beach sipping cold beer and watching scantily dressed men strut around on the beach.

That evening dinner was as predicted, broiled fish fillets and rice with a vegetable, I picked broccoli. I think this ship purchased raw frozen fish from one of those huge floating fish factories on the Indian Ocean. They thawed them in water then cooked them with a broiler similar to what Burger King uses. Thawed fish fillets go on the conveyor on one side and come out broiled and tender on the other side about three minutes later.

From what I saw outside on the main deck I estimated the ship had a crew of 14 men. Most looked African, a few looked Pinoy. But I could not understand anything any of them shouted. The cook spoke Pinoy and the 2nd cook too. The cook reminded me of the one in the movie `Life of Pi.' He was totally unsympathetic and was all about chow, cooked to a safe temperature and keeping the kitchen spotlessly clean. The kitchen was small, like maybe 14x14, it was one room with a walk-in freezer as big as the kitchen.

The dining room was one deck below the cabin deck so you always smelled food when it was about done cooking. They served three meals a day, except breakfast never changed. For breakfast it was always toast, scrambled eggs, cheese, frozen orange juice concentrate, fried potatoes, and something like pan fried Spam but maybe not as nice. They baked their own bread on board because they had to, it was a whole grain thin sliced with very little flavor. I assumed the wheat was grown in China, who knows what was done to it.

I had some decisions to make about feeding Tron, could I trust him to un-cuff one hand and let him feed himself, or do I spoon feed him like a baby because he cannot be trusted. I never identified myself to him so he really does not know the entire story. He knows I am not a Fed or a bounty hunter, so he is acting a little cautious around me, just as much as I am around him. I hope he took my warning seriously about his nuts being removed, because I wasn't kidding. But I'd prefer to not have to castrate him.

In our cabin there is a steel bunk bed which is part of the structure of the ship. There is a small cabinet and two drawers with a mirror on the wall. The mirror is polished chrome steel. Across from the bunk is something like a writing desk, a chair to sit on. There is a foot wide port hole on the wall opposite from the door to our room.

They have an observation deck on the roof of the pilot house and a crew social room with TV/VCR and two sofas. You can smoke on deck and even jog the length of the ship for something to do. Basically, it's going to be three weeks of boring and dangerous. My goal was to get Tron to his appointment with the judge in Brindisi Italy next month, alive and un-injured. I think their plan is to arraign him in Brindisi then load him into an ambulance chained to a spine board, then sedate him and drive (with military escort) on the highway to Rome. They'll take the E45 and the A1 expressways, but the drive is about 340 miles Brindisi to Rome.

I suspect if he goes from Rome to the USA they'll probably fly him on a military cargo plane like the kind Dan and I flew to Spain on years ago from Washington.

For meals I considered putting Tron in the chair and leaving his ankles free. The chair looks strong but could be smashed and used as a weapon. I sat on the desk and studied the cabin looking for places where I could restrain him so he could have one arm free to eat but not become a threat to anyone and me. Finally, I figured it out, I would secure him to the steel ladder which was part of the bunk bed frame, then I would set his food on his bunk and leave one arm free to eat but his arm had to go through the ladder to reach his plate so the steel ladder would restrict arm movement. We were out of range of cellular so I no longer had a translator app to tell him the rules and consequences. Maybe it's better to leave him guessing so he is less likely to plan my murder.

At dinner time I ate my food downstairs in the dining area with the other passengers and some of the crew. They had some newspapers on the tables from George Town so I looked through them but they were in a language I couldn't read, but it was still interesting to look at the letters and the pictures.

By the time the sun went down we'd made it out onto the open ocean and were about 90 miles northwest of Malaysia heading toward the southern tip of Sri Lanka. For a small cargo ship this boat seemed to scoot along rather quickly, I estimated we were doing at least 29mph in calm seas.

After I ate my fish and rice with vegetable and drank some nasty coffee and water I used the bathroom and went to check on Tron, I unhooked him from the bed and walked him to the bathroom and we did the same drill, but this time he used the sit down toilet and dropped a deuce, I had to wipe him but got no smears on the toilet paper, so it was good. We went back to the room and I locked him firmly to the steel ladder. I put him on his knees on the floor with his front side against the ladder. He had one arm reached through the ladder, it was free to eat with. He was cuffed at the knees and around the neck to the ladder with the right arm cuffed to the ladder and the left arm free, but stuck through the ladder which restricted his movement.

I must admit that it started to turn me on with my hands all over Tron, he is built like a boy and never voiced any objection to being handled all over by me.

After he was in position I set the plastic tray near his hand and let him eat with his fingers. For drinks I held the glass and he drank through a straw. Even though our cabin had some AC it was still kind of warm so I gestured if he wanted his shirt taken off and he shrugged his shoulders so I carefully undid one of the cuffs at a time and removed his short sleeve button down shirt, then I sat near him with the pepper spray can in one hand and watched him eat in case he needed help or more water.

After dinner he wanted to sit on the floor, so I turned him around and sat him on the tile floor and helped him drink the rest of his tall water glass. His chest was mostly flat, like a boy. He had smaller nickel size dark brown nipples and a nice belly button hole, no signs of chest hairs and even the hairs in his arm pits were very thin. He asked me something a few times and seemed to get frustrated because I didn't understand but I had no idea what he was saying. When I pointed at the bathroom or the glass he just nodded no and seemed to get frustrated, then he said "Moo-sick?" so I turned on my Android phone and played the Allman Brothers Live at Fillmore East, I think he sort of liked that southern mellow rock with a hint of blues sound. He did not like Pink Floyd or Yes or Led Zeppelin, but he did like Van Morrison and Neil Young.

I had a vision of having him over to smoke some joints back in college decades ago but it's hard to imagine how different our lives were, him growing up on a rice farm along a river in China and me in a suburb of Houston. His lips are rather puffy and I always wanted to kiss a guy with lips like his, and rub the tip of my boner side to side across his puffy soft lips.

About 8pm we were both tired so I took him to the bathroom again and let him pee this time he wanted me to flip his dick upward so it wasn't stuck to his balls so it hit the urinal better and didn't splash on his legs as much. Then we went back to the cabin and I chained him down to the lower bunk on his back, his shirt was hung on a hook on the wall and once again he wanted something and tried saying one word over and over but it sounded like gibberish to me (it sounded like he was saying: Sha-what) so we kind of played Charades. I unchained one of his hands to act out what he wanted and it became obvious he wanted me to jerk him off or let him do it to himself. The one thing that worked for us was when I made a jerking motion with my hand and he repeatedly said yes! So I sort of acted out removing his jeans and taking his dick in my hand and sliding it up and down until he squirted and he nodded yes. So then I understood, Tron had a bad case of blue balls and wanted me to wank him right now. When we both understood we both laughed like we meant it.

His hands were cuffed behind him to a steel ladder and his ankles were chained together outward so there was almost nothing he could do to me. He could raise his legs to kick me, but he might kick himself too. He seemed sincere so I decided to oblige him and I got on my knees beside him on the floor and started to un-do his slacks. With a keen eye on his legs I unbuttoned his pants and wiggled them down to his knees, he even raised his butt to make it easier. So he seemed to really want this.

I stopped sliding down his slacks when they got to his knees but he did not have any underwear on so I tried to straighten his body out a little so I had room to work. I grabbed his ankles and slid his butt a little further from the ladder. Then got back on my knees beside him and rested my hand on his limp dick and balls.

Over several minutes I slowly moved my hand to hold his dick and he started to get turned on. I felt my dick getting hard too. After he was erect I looked closely at his and sure enough he was circumcised, I saw the line and scar. The rest of his dick was a darker brown but the last two inches was like the color of his stomach.

I held his dick and worked it slowly in my grip and then pointed out his scar and looked at him and he shrugged his shoulders so I pointed at mine and he smiled at me.

I noticed he made a few drops of pre-come on his hairless brown tummy skin which looked very soft and inviting. Slowly I started stroking his end to end. When I started he winced as if he was in pain and panted too, I guess my grip was tighter than he was used to or maybe it was just super intense. Next, I slid his dick side to side across his belly and his entire body tightened and pulled hard on the cuffs and I saw his facial expression was one of super intense feelings in his dick. After that and several more drops of pre-come I took it and aimed it straight up and used my fingers to make a ring and slid it across the flange around his head and teased it really gently and that really got him going as he struggled against the chains and his entire body twisted side to side with extreme pleasure.

Then he started panting and said something like a warning I assumed he was about to spray, I looked down and saw his balls were drawn up and his scrotum looked empty.

Moments later his entire body became tight and he arched his back and a few drops of white semen dribbled out of his dick, then it oozed out like toothpaste. I lifted his dick and aimed it at his face and then it shot out one long white string that flew over his body and hit the wall beside the bunk bed. I lowered it a little and it shot out across his hairless belly and chest but missed his face. After that he just dripped like a leaky faucet on his tummy and filled his belly button and suddenly his body relaxed and he let out a big sigh and had a smile on his face and said something softly to me (terima kasi) I could only guess meant Thank You.

I got up and left the room (despite having a huge boner lump in my slacks) and walked to the bathroom and got a wad of paper towels and went back to my room and cleaned him up. I took one finger and pressed it into his belly button and offered it to his mouth and he stuck out his tongue and licked it off, then I finished cleaning him and the wall. After that I pulled up his jeans and offered him water. After that I moved his chains so he could crawl into bed, then I locked him in place. I turned off the light and went to bed.

Before I fell asleep I heard him snoring.

On Day #2 it was pretty much a repeat of yesterday, today was our first full day at sea, and we were about halfway from Malaysia to Sri Lanka now, heading southwest to clear the southern tip of India and Sri Lanka. I've never been there but I hear life is good on Sri Lanka but still a lot of natives try to migrate elsewhere. I had no problems with Tron on Day #2. Hell, maybe he wants to go to Italy and spend the rest of his life in a prison cell, maybe his parents were total assholes, maybe it's the only place in the world where nobody can kill him. I think he could end up in a supermax in the states in a couple years if he's found guilty in a courtroom in Rome. What the world wants to know more than anything is who paid Tron and who were the targets of his murder-for-hire plot, and why. In a couple years he will be known around the world as one of the worst murderers of (unarmed civilians) all time if you don't include Stalin, Hitler, Pol-Pot, and the British military.

The sea was a little taller today so the ship bounced and creaked a little but it just kept on vibrating and groaning as it cut through the waves and kept moving toward the southern tip of India. It took most of the day to get used to walking on a floor that was in motion, luckily I never got seasick.

I fed my prisoner the same way and I seemed to have his cooperation. I left his shirt off, even when we used the bathroom where the rest of the passengers and crew could see him. I guess under his clothes he looked like most of the crew anyway: dark brown skin, hairless, smooth, and his body (in my eyes) looked much younger than he actually was.

That evening I am pretty sure he wanted me to service him again but I refused. Instead I sat beside him on the bunk and set my hand on his lower tummy and strummed his cute little belly button then up to his small round tits then back across his chest and stomach, which felt super nice. He never got hard but I did, then I went to the showers and wanked on the floor. I wanted to take him to the shower but there was nothing to cuff him to. I also wandered around the boat deck looking for something heavy to chain him to so he could take a bucket shower but I never saw anything portable I could borrow for showering purposes. If I was going to bathe him it would probably be on deck with a bucket on a rope over the side.

Overnight on day 2-3 we passed south of India and changed course toward the northwest toward southeastern Yemen. The captain announced in the dining room that pirates from Somalia were still a danger so they set a course for a wide turn into the Gulf of Aden, but there were rebels in Yemen who sometimes fired upon ships too close to their shore so it was a tricky route they used to avoid trouble from both sides. But we just passed India and had 2-3 days until we reached the Gulf of Aden. He told us this cargo ship was actually faster than most of the boats used by pirates, but the Liberian flag was our best protection. As far as I knew the rice boat was completely unarmed but I suspected they had some rifles stored onboard just in case.

I spoke to the first mate, he was the only one I could find in the crew who spoke Spanish. I told him about my prisoner and that I wanted to wash him, would it be possible to chain him to the railing and use a bucket on a rope over the side for water? He said yes and would get me the stuff. On day #3 I chained him to a lifeboat davit naked. Then with a bucket and a bar of soap I got buckets of sea water and washed him, I got turned on running my hand all over his body. I touched every inch of his flesh and he just stood there and let me do it, but he never got hard. Two people watched our show but I had no idea who they were, probably deck hands but they were fascinated with watching me hand wash every inch of his body. I even slid my hand up and down his dick several times to clean it and his balls, I also scrubbed his crack and inside his belly button.

Tron and I seemed to be in a routine, bathroom times, and feeding schedules. He rarely spoke and never asked anything and seemed to have his moods under control but I wondered what he would be like when I told him we were nearing Italy. I honestly doubt Interpol would kill him or sentence him to hang after his trial, so he can look forward to spending the rest of his life in handcuffs and leg chains somewhere. I'm not sure if there is a death penalty in the EU any more. I never heard how much he got paid to fly that jet liner down to the sea and do a perfect water landing. I actually had a small desire to talk to him about his water landing. Supposedly he practiced doing that in a simulator and on a home computer for a year before actually doing it. The State Department said he was paid $250,000 Euros for killing the two men from China. If he had died in the water landing the money would have been handed to his elderly parents without explanation. Some person would walk in their store and hand one of them a shoe box and walk out without speaking.

The days went by as we crossed the Indian Ocean then the Captain said we just entered the Red Sea and in two days we'd be at the entrance to the Suez Canal. As soon as we entered the Red Sea I repeated his bath routine, and again he had no comment and never got hard but I certainly did. His skin felt really nice, especially when he was wet. I really wanted to kiss his tummy and lick his belly button but had to restrain my urges.

The Canal itself took two days to cross and sometimes they had smaller ships drop anchor and wait for a line of the biggest container ships and oil tankers to go by the other way. That's what happened to us. This time we stopped on one of the lakes that were part of the canal and because Tron was well behaved I brought him up on deck in chains to watch us sail the last sixty miles of the canal and enter the Mediterranean Sea, I think it did him some good to get exposed to sunlight and fresh air too. I sat him in a deck chair (with no shirt still) but chained him to a deck railing support so he couldn't leave that spot. At that location you are too far from Cairo to see any ancient buildings but it is still a historical area where the Egyptian Army used to battle against the armies of the Ottoman Empire and the Persians too. When we exited the canal we were ¾ of the way to Italy and it was our 15th day at sea. Entering the Red Sea was our halfway point, which was almost a week ago!

Luckily we had good weather for most of the trip, seas were mostly calm, and I never saw anyone on deck barfing over the side. The Captain announced the forecast for the rest of the trip looked good, calm seas and a lot of hot sunshine. The Suez Canal is about 95 miles long, it took much longer to cross than I expected because we had to stop and drop anchor twice. Most ships sail the canal around 10-15mph and almost nobody crosses without stopping at least once. Stopping a freighter is sometimes very difficult to do without the help of large tug boats. We were told to drop anchor on Great Bitter Lake and wait for orders to proceed. I think the canal put their pilots on board all ships. I think the rice boat was waiting for a line of smaller northbound freighters to catch up so we could finish the last 60 miles of the canal as a group. That section ran from Great Bitter Lake to Port Said and a little out onto the MedSea. After the canal we'd sail 770 miles at a heading of 290 degrees across the Med, then turn to NW to sail around the boot heel and the last 90 miles into the port at Brindisi.

The port at Brindisi is quite large and busy, there is the city itself, but there is also a very large industrial area, the airport, the port, a large coal fired electricity plant, and just outside of town the area is surrounded by farmland, like most of southern Italy. From the canal entrance on the med to the southeast corner of the boot heel its 1040 miles, or 1-2 days depending on the wind and seas.

For northbound ships on the Suez Canal the last city is Port Said, yes it is an old port city that looks rather 3rd world in places. There are hundreds of new high rise buildings going up but construction is tied to tolls the ships pay to sail the canal and if there are pirates snagging ships on the Red Sea then ships start to sail around Africa instead and the money dries up and progress in Egypt slows to a crawl. The canal actually forks about 8 miles south of the end, so we were routed to the other channel to let the biggest tanker ships enter the canal heading southbound. Most of those are heading toward the Persian Gulf and the big oil spigots. The Rice Boat was a fraction of the size of those big oil tankers. And the biggest ones still cannot take the canal, they're too wide, too deep. After we sailed clear of the canal I never told Tron about our destination or how far away it was, but I think we had 2-3 days to go still.

On day #18 (we cleared the canal earlier in the day) Tron finally made his one and only attempt to break free, but it was confusing what he did and when he did it, I think he assumed we were closer to Italy than we were. I am certain that if the Captain or crew saw him by himself they would overpower him and tie him with ropes for the rest of the voyage. I made sure everyone saw him in cuffs but nobody knew why he was a prisoner. Tron was also about to become a huge celebrity around the world. I thought it was kind of funny how Tron and nobody else onboard said anything about him always being shirtless, even in the cafeteria or up on the boat deck. I am glad he had small nips, his were like 1/3 the size of what Daniel has on his chest.

It was bed time and I was chaining him to the bed frame and he used one free leg to pound me in the side of the head with his knee, then his one free foot. I immediately caught a glimpse of him moving abruptly and fell backwards but he connected with my shoulder and swung twice trying to connect with my face but he missed. I felt the air he stirred up and knew if he had connected I'd soon be in chains and he'd be hiding somewhere on the ship waiting for the first sight of land in Italy. It would not surprise me if he even dove over the side and tried to swim five miles to shore for the chance of freedom. I think his ideal escape would actually be in the Suez Canal where he could jump off the side and swim 150 feet to shore.

I thought what he would do is to get down to the engine room level where they have steel doors that open to the outside above the rudders. He could open one door and dive off behind the ship, the prop wash would push him away and then he could swim ashore. Diving from those back doors would put his feet about fifteen feet above the water, and he'd splashdown about 12 feet behind the ship.

After he was done trying to break free I sprayed him in the face and I could easily see it burned badly and with his hands secured he couldn't even touch his face or eyes so he got to enjoy the full burn of the pepper. The rest of the trip I kept the spray in my hand anytime I was getting him off his bunk. For my safety I chained him to the steel ladder for the rest of the voyage, no more mattress at night. So he had to sleep on the floor instead of chained down to a mattress. While he was incapacitated by the spray I got him again with the knockout gas, that was when I moved him to the ladder with his ass on the tile floor but that meant his legs were loose, but they were chained together.

With him passed out I re-did his hand cuffs and stretched him out on the floor and cuffed his wrists to the bottom of the ladder which put his feet within range to cuff his ankles to the desk. He was flat on his back on the hard deck. Since he was out I decided to take advantage and I got on the floor beside him and opened his slacks and pulled them down to his thighs then I ran my face all over his ultra soft tummy. It was super nice and I had to fight the urge to suck his dick but I never did. I did sniff his crotch a few times, I mean I was the asshole who washed it so there should be no surprises.

I probably had 15-20 minutes left so I took my clothes off and sat on his thighs and wanked and came on his stomach, and then I moved around and licked it off. Before I got dresses I slid the head of my dick across his nice puffy lips. Then I got him dressed but left him chained down on his back on the floor.

On day #22 we sailed into the port of Brindisi in south-east Italy with the aid of two tug boats, I stood at the bow on the boat deck and watched them tug us carefully into port. Luckily they have a huge commercial pier and the port is very close to the airport, and Interpol offices are always in unmarked buildings near airports. We tied up at 4:15pm and an hour later they placed the gangway and the passengers were free to disembark the ship. When I saw the steel staircase moving through the air under the crane I called the local Interpol office (and notified them we were in port and needed transport of one (dangerous) international fugitive to their offices for formal surrender, and I needed a receipt). With the long chains on his ankles, his wrists chained together behind his back, and his elbow chained to my wrist I walked Tron (still shirtless) off the ship and slowly down the steps and onto the pier.

Since I knew he wouldn't understand me as we slowly inched down the gangway steps I told him in English: Thank you for not being an asshole.

They knew very little about Tron other than he was accused of killing over 230 some people and was considered very dangerous. None of the story had been released to the media yet, but that was only hours away. They also knew he was coming but not exactly when. Interpol was told Tron was an expert escapist too. I carried his shirt in my hand as we slowly inched down the steps to the concrete pier.

We carefully left the rice boat to the sound of the huge vacuum pump starting to suck the tons of rice out of the cargo sections of the ship, it would take them three days to empty the ship into huge grain silos at the port.

Fifteen minutes later we saw two large black SUVs drive up and armed men displaying their automatic weapons got out and they walked Tron across the pier to their vehicles and stripped him naked in broad daylight with people watching, they checked his body for any hidden items. They leaned him against the outside of the SUV and one of them put on a glove and pushed fingers up inside his rectum and then they dressed him in an orange paper jumpsuit that said DDC in big black letters on the front and back.

They removed the handcuff that joined us like twins and loaded Tron (alone) into the back seat and strapped him down tightly, then I got in beside him and we drove to their office across the street from the airport terminal. It was only a ten minute drive from the port.

There was one spot in the center of the back seat where they had five seatbelts they could pull tightly across your body to strap you to the seat, that is exactly what they did for a two mile drive. I thought it was because they were bored and trying to act like tough guys, tough on crime.

On the drive from the port to the airport Tron turned his head and softly said, "Thank you Alex." In reasonable English, which made me laugh. I think he meant thanks for treating him decently on the trip from Penang. I could have let him starve.

I had to explain twice who he was and where he was going. "This is Tron Singh, he is the primary suspect for the downing of Malaysia flight 370 over the Indian Ocean. He is accused of shooting a hole in the fuselage to depressurize the cabin and kill everyone on board, including the two top bio weapons researchers in China. It is believed they were his target but he killed all 230 passengers, after that it did not matter what he did with the jet. Tron took the 777 for a joyride for several hours and performed a perfect belly landing on the ocean the next day. He escaped in a raft, was rescued by seaplane, and tried to live his life working at his parent's fish shop in Penang Malaysia where he retired but still helped his family and nobody knew he had a large amount of secret cash hidden somewhere, his payment for killing two Chinese scientists. There is a reward for his live capture, I need a receipt and some photos that I delivered him alive to the Interpol office in Brindisi as instructed.

It entered my mind when I told them the story, what about his reward money? Will they just leave it with his parents or will they send someone to try to arrest all that cash? If Tron was smart he would have hid the cash but told his parents in case he vanished one day. Running a cash retail business it would be super easy for them to make the money disappear.

The lead officer got out his fugitive receipt book and hand wrote one for the live surrender of Tron, then we posed for pictures as additional proof. Just inside the building entrance there was an Interpol logo with the words Brindisi Italy painted below it, so that is where we stood for photos of me, Tron, and the chief of the Brindisi Interpol office. Of the three of us Tron was the shortest by far and he really did look like a high school kid.

I actually saw Tron smile and wink at me as I was about to leave, I never reacted to him. Once I had those pieces of evidence in hand my mission was over but I still had to wait for them to return all my handcuffs. About 20 minutes later I left the building and walked across the street to the airport terminal and purchased a ticket, the best I could do that late in the day was a commercial jet flight to Oran that would start boarding soon. Its less than two hours to Oran from Brindisi, but I guess a lot of people from Algeria vacation in Italy so that was why they had a late-day return flight. In Oran I could fly home or take the train or even hitchhike.

That night I got a hotel room in Oran and called my boss at home, the chief of staff for the US Embassy in Rabat and told him of my success. Then I called the number on the wanted poster to claim the reward. Tron really never tried hard to escape, except once but I subdued him with pepper spray and fear of more pain.

I said I would be back to work on Monday morning, today was Thursday night. I needed a few days off to get my biological clock back in sync with Tangier time. He never asked about the reward money but well knew that a sudden deposit for nine million in my retirement account might make me want to quit working for anyone.

Two days later while I was hanging out at home I got a phone call from an older woman about my reward, she was on the way to Tangier and had to discuss where to meet. We agreed on meeting on the grassy lawn in the roundabout, the biggest one in Tangier, on the waterfront at the entrance to the port. Nobody goes out there but there is a crosswalk, a public bench, and a cool ocean breeze. She said she would be there in a taxi tomorrow at 2pm local time.

I set an alarm to make sure I was there. That evening I called Jen and we talked for two hours, I told her about Tron and she said it was breaking news in Madrid and she was impressed that I captured him, she was very happy I was uninjured and Tron was able to stand trial. She asked me if he said why he did it and I told her we did not have a common language so we couldn't talk.

I told her I could retire now if I wanted. She told me to buy the property next door to Dan's airport and buy an airplane and spend my retirement flying around the Atlas Mountains. I told her I just might do that very thing. It's kind of funny when we talk about me and Dan she never mentions gay stuff. I told her she should join us and buy property too, but she never commented.

The next morning I wanted to talk to Dan but I had to stay off the phone because the lady with the reward money was flying in, not sure if she was flying into Gibraltar or Tangier but she was on the way. I had an alarm set on my cell and when it went off I took the bus to the entrance of the port in Tangier and ran across four lanes of traffic onto the roundabout and sat on the bench and waited patiently.

I've seen the huge grassy roundabout but never walked out there before, it was kind of dangerous crossing the boulevard because the drivers are all in a hurry and at any minute the lawn sprinklers might turn on and drown me.

Twenty minutes later a black taxi stopped which caused a dozen vehicle horns to sound off and out climbed a petite slender older lady pulling an airport luggage 2-wheel cart. She waved and I waved back and she joined me in the shade on the bench. I had to show her my State Department ID and once she was convinced it was not fake she unzipped her case and pulled out a package wrapped tightly in thick black plastic and shipping tape. I signed her form and noted it was too tightly packed to open but I acknowledged receiving a package of something heavy. She laughed and packed up her stuff and then walked back by the boulevard and waved down the first black taxi and disappeared into the traffic. I think she actually flew into Gibraltar from Brussels and took the high speed ferry across the Strait. She told me she actually watched them wrap the reward cash. They used a plastic wrapper like they use to wrap trays of beef at the grocery store. It shrinks with hot air so after wrapping and sealing with tape they blast it with hot air to shrink the wrapper.

With a rather heavy package in one hand I ran across the boulevard and stood at a red taxi stop for 12 minutes and got in one that dropped me off at the bus stop near my apartment.

I was so excited my hands were shaking but I carefully slit the tape on the bundle then sliced the heavy plastic wrapper and started pulling out bundles of 100 dollar Euro notes. That totaled ninety thousand, hundred Euro notes for nine million Euro-bucks. I stuffed the cash into large ziplok bags and put them inside a pillow case on the shelf in my large closet and set out one mill to deposit tomorrow in my bank in Tangier at lunch time.

Once that was ready to go I did something I normally never do: I got up and double checked that my apartment door to the 9th floor hallway was locked and chained!

Then I started looking at real estate listings near Danville.

Next chapter: Alex starts his search for land near the Danville Airport and re-evaluates his life/career in general now that he has enough money to retire in his late 30s.