All of a Sudden
All of a sudden there was a loud bang from the cockpit.
The luxury motor launch was anchored 3 miles off the coast of the Algarve waiting for a delivery.
The four men who were sitting on the deck of the sun-seeker drinking cans of beer were thrown against the boat’s rail as the craft lurched to one side.
They were too shocked to speak at first, until the blond guy, who owned the boat swore and shouted “Pedro, what the fuck was that!”
There was no answer from the skipper, who had been down below cooking lunch.
Suddenly the un-mistakable smell of fire and smoke drifted out of the cabin through the open hatch of the galley.
“Holy crap” said another guy scrambling to his feet. Then they heard another small explosion.
The boat owner was in his ´40s, an attractive guy with a tanned face and stubble. He ran to the sliding glass door which led down some stairs to over 1 million euros worth of luxury floating equipment. All he saw past the door was flames.
Two of the guys who a second ago had been stoned and enjoying a beer now jumped into the water. The other guy ran to the furthest end of the deck looking like a terrified animal and huddled waiting for instructions.
“The life raft´s down below,” yelled the boat owner. “The whole boats going to blow. Jump man jump!”
The other guy threw himself into the water, as the blond man hastily untied a life ring from the side and jumped over himself.
The boat lasted another 3 minutes before it blew up, flying debris hit one of the guys in the water and killed him instantly. The terrified guy couldn’t swim and drowned.
The boat owner found the other guy an hour later. He had the initiative to swim as fast as he could away from the boat. They both clung onto the buoy and took it in turns to kick.
12 hours later they made it to shore.
The two that made it to shore never reported the incident.
1 week earlier the two dead guys and the guy that made it to shore had been staying at the “Happy Day” hostel in Lagos. Two were Ozzies one was German. They had got talking in the communal kitchen and later become buddies over a game of “Shit head” and a whole slab of Sagres beer.
They had met the blond guy later on that night. He owned the bar they were drinking in and he bought them a round of tequilas and they got talking. His name was Ed.
Later on that night he had invited them back to his apartment. A swanky pad over-looking the marina. The drink and drugs had flowed all night and he had asked them if they wanted to make a quick buck.
This was all in a day´s work for Ed, which wasn´t his real name. Using backpackers as his mules was his way of distributing his drugs around the town. A few long haired dudes travelling were invisible in Lagos. They earned more than a backpacker could dream of in a few weeks then moved on. It was a perfect set up.
Taking the guys on an off-shore pick up from a boat out of Morroco, was not the norm but taking the guys with him out of the marina meant he just looked like a tourist and it got them in deeper, meant they were less likely to talk.
None of them knew about the faulty electrics on-board that meant only 2 of them would survive the day.
The Australian guy never admitted when he had last seen his buddy, he had a law degree, he didn´t want to waste his life too. He simply went back to the hostel collected his and his mate´s belongings and left. Later he chucked his mates stuff in a skip. He felt bad of course but he wasn´t going to go to the police.
It´s now winter in Lagos. A flap of paper pinned to a communal rubbish skip is blowing in the wind. Staring out of the paper was the face of young guy with a faint smile on his lips. He sported some rough facial hair, standard for a back packer.
Rain drops started to fall in the tourist resort that marked the beginning of winter and the end of the tourist season and the paper soon began to get wet. Beneath the photo was some bold writing that started to run with the rain.
Wolfgang “Wolfy” Last seen August 20th. If anyone has any information regarding his whereabouts, please phone this number.
Ed is walking through town, his business is slow at this time of year and he is off to Africa tomorrow to make some new business connections. The piece of paper catches his eye. He looks at the face and recognised it as the terrified animal that had stared back at him as the flames broke onto the deck.
He shrugs and walked on.
