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Nacho broke the silence he had maintained since Pablo mentioned his search for officials.
“I may know someone you might want to meet. And this is the second time I’ve said that to someone about your new project,” smiled the second of the Marzаn brothers.
Nacho’s silence wasn’t because he was enjoying his Cruzcampo or because of the scenery. He had been deciding whether or not to introduce his candidate to Pablo. Not because he wasn’t suitable, Nacho was sure that he was the best he could find, but exactly because he was so good he might steal the spotlight from his brother as far as being the captain of Albatros. And he knew that although he was excited about the project, Pablo couldn’t help thinking about commanding that ship. He knew it because he would feel the same way, and Javi would too.
For his part, Pablo suppressed leaping for joy. A possible candidate this soon was more than he had ever expected.
“Who is it?” he asked.
Nacho sighed. There was no turning back.
“His name is Gabi Huesca Perez,” and that’s all he said. He knew Javi would finish the story.
“Is that the number one from your class at the academy that just got fired because the ship he was commanding was grounded?” the eldest of the brothers asked.
Nacho was right, the Navy was a great little family and everyone knew each other.
“One and the same. I just came from the trial in Madrid. The verdict said something to the effect that it’s not his fault but as he was the commander he is responsible.”
He said no more. The comment was not intended as criticism. Everyone knew you didn’t delegate responsibility. A commanding officer is fully responsible for everything that happens.
Nacho continued, “Apparently it was night. He was sleeping. His Executive Officer
was on duty and drove the boat into a rock. The breach was so great that they almost sank right then and there. And they’re saying there’s no way to fix it. It’s unbelievable! He told me that as soon as he took command he knew that Lieutenant Junior Grade was useless. But it’s like everything. You can’t do anything about it, but if something happens it’s your fault.”
Pablo didn’t interrupt. He knew full well how hard it was for Nacho to see something happen to a colleague knowing that the same could happen to him at any time. What’s more, he remembered Gabi, Nacho and him were great friends. The fact of having fought for being number one in class for five years at the Naval School had not affected a great friendship.
“Anyway,” continued Nacho, “he’s obviously out of work now. But he has been in command although it was cut short. Also, he’s been in Somalia a couple of times on board Castilla and Alvaro de Bazan if I’m not mistaken.”
“Sounds perfect,” Pablo said. And his expression showed that he too realized Gabi could become a rival. “Do you think he’ll like the project?”
“I don’t know,” Nacho said. “He’s going through a tough time. It depends on how I present it. But let me tell you, he’s the best of the best. I don’t know anyone better than he is, besides Javi.”
The oldest of the three bowed his head feeling somewhere between grateful and embarrassed.
“I’ve also heard very good things about him, though we have never met.”
Pablo had already made a decision. As incredible as it seemed (he had even surprised himself), he had come to the conclusion that if Gabi was better than him, then he should be the captain. And if he wasn’t, then by Nacho’s description, he would make the perfect right-hand man.
“Give me his number.”
#
The next morning, Pablo was driving his VW Golf along the road to Rota. There had been an idea running through his head for the last couple of days. And the day before, he had talked about it to his brothers. After thinking it over and weighing pros and cons, they had encouraged him to try it.
That was why he was going to Grease’s Auto Repair Shop in the town of Rota. The owner, Thomas “Grease” Johnson had been a senior chief (non commissioned officer) mechanic in the US Navy who had retired early at 45 to set up a garage next to the neighboring Rota Naval Base.
The Texan was in love with Spain, and his knowledge of Spanish (as spoken in Texas and some parts of Florida) together with his expertise in engines had turned his workshop into a favorite of Americans on the Base and half the people in Rota.
Pablo had met him while Grease was practicing his other hobby, sailing. No one would have thought that a Texan who loved spark plugs and pistons would be so passionate about a sport that used none of those things. But Pablo knew very few trimmers as good as he was.
Fate had wanted them to be part of the same racing crew for three years and Pablo wanted to exploit that relationship to make the Yankee an unexpected offer.
He had no doubt Grease was the right man to be Albatros’ chief engineer. But even if he knew how to navigate perfectly, the American had no title that allowed him to act as deck officer on a ship of those characteristics. However, he had decided to take it one step at a time. He would solve the deck officers issue later. For now, getting a good chief engineer was essential.
While Pablo parked the car he thought he was having too much luck to try to push it. Someday it would have to end.
With a pull of the parking brake, he erased the bad omens in his mind and got out of the car. When he was a few feet from the shop, a middle-aged man with brown hair, large but not fat, medium height with light skin and eyes and a small mustache under a small nose came in and greeted him with a slight American accent.
“Hey, Pablo. What are you doing here? Is there something wrong with your little car?” he said looking at his VW Golf.
Like most Texans, he was a lover of big cars and, even after all his years in Europe, he continued to make fun of compact cars.
“Huh? No, my car is fine.”
Grease looked puzzled as he shook Pablo’s hand.
“So what brings you here?”
Pablo looked at the bar across the road.
“I’ll buy you a beer.”
“Can’t say no to that,” Grease said.
The two crossed the street under the scorching sun and on entering the bar Pablo went to a secluded table where they could have some privacy. The waiter approached them.
“What can I get for you, gentlemen?” The waiter asked with a strong Andalusian accent.
“Two beers please,” Pablo said, and turning to Grease he asked, “How’s business?”
“It’s going well man, I’m making a profit on the expansion from last year, more and more people come. In fact, I already have six employees.”
“You’ve become quite the businessman!”
“Actually I never dreamed I would do so well,” Grease said. “If I had known it was going to be this good I would have left the Navy long before.”
Pablo began to fear that his plan was ruined.
“Are you telling me you don’t miss sailing?”
Grease looked at him carefully. After a few seconds, it seemed he decided that Pablo would fit within that small circle of comrades to whom he could make a personal confession, although perhaps it was more professional than personal. But that’s the magic of being a seaman, the bonds with your mates, even if you didn’t know them that well.
“I’m not going to lie to you, I’m very happy here, but I do miss sailing, going to distant ports, working in a hierarchical organization and some action every now and again. In addition, the largest engine that’s ever come through that door,” as he nodded toward his workshop, “is not even a tenth of the ones I had on the ships.”
Pablo smiled, that was the eternal topic of the Texan who liked big things.
“Then you may be interested in what I’m about to tell you.”
Grease looked at him curiously. The conversation was taking an unexpected turn.
“Let’s just say I’m part of a novel project and we need someone to take care of the engines.”
Pablo let the information sink in. After a few seconds, Grease continued looking at him in the same manner, educated curiosity, but nothing more. Pablo smiled remembering that Grease was a regular poker player.
He decided to continue, “It’s a boat, about a hundred meters long and I want to modify it so it will reach thirty knots. Right now it has two sixteen-valve MTU engines that go up to twenty-two but at Navantia they’re trying to figure out how to get the extra eight.”
“This could cost you an arm and a leg and will suck more than a puta que no folla.”
Pablo couldn’t help laughing. It was funny to hear vulgar expressions in Spanish coming from the mouth of a foreigner.
“My boss is pretty generous when it comes to expenses.”
“Interesting,” Grease said. “I have a couple of ideas.”
“Well, now that I got your attention, I’ll tell you the whole story.”
Grease sat up in his chair, any attempt at masking his emotions completely forgotten.
“We’re going to the Horn of Africa with a Somali government permit to hunt pirates.”
“You’re kidding.”
“I’m not. I’m being completely serious. These pirates must have pissed off someone enough to make them subsidize a genuine privateer to chase after them. Unfortunately for them, this guy is one of the few who can afford it.”
“Is this an official proposal?” Grease asked.
“I’m asking you to be the chief engineer of the ship. If you accept, tomorrow you’ll have to go to Navantia and fight with the engineers to give me what I want. This proposal is as serious as it gets. All I need is my boss’ approval but I don’t think he’ll have a problem.”
And that’s what’s known as “going all in”. Thank God he had the cards to back it up.
“I’m your guy!” cried Grease. “Now tell me a little more about this crazy plan.”
Pablo leaned back in his chair and asked for another round. Now that he had accomplished his goal he could really enjoy his beer.
#
That same evening at home, Pablo picked up the phone.
“Hello?”
“Pablo, it’s Nacho. I talked to Gabi and he said he wants to talk to you. Write his number down.”
After thinking about it and asking Javi for advice, Pablo had decided it was best that Nacho approach him first. Gabi had gone through a difficult time and the conversation could touch sensitive issues and maybe even become unpleasant.
That’s why he had asked Nacho to call Gabi and explain the situation. He had agreed and it seemed to have gone well.
“At first he was a little stunned,” Nacho said. “Then, when he recovered, the first thing he asked was about you. He said for me to forget you’re my brother and tell him what I know about you as a seaman. I must be a great liar because he wants to talk to you.” Nacho quipped.
“Ha, ha. Thanks a lot, Nacho.”
“It’s nothing, little guy. See you later.”
“Later.”
Pablo looked at the piece of paper. He knew the success of the project could depend heavily on the man whose phone belonged to that number. Pablo saw only two options if Gabi Huesca joined the enterprise. Either he became the commanding officer or his right-hand man. He was not going to find anyone so qualified.
He had considered that the loss of his previous command may have affected Gabi psychologically but Nacho wouldn’t have recommended him if that was the case.
Not wanting to mull it over too much he dialed the number his brother had given him. After two rings, a voice with no accent answered. Even though Pablo had seen in his own family how moving around can cause a person to lose his regional accent, it still surprised him.
“Hello?”
“Good morning. My name is Pablo Marzаn, may I speak with Gabriel Huesca please?”
“Speaking. Good morning Pablo, and please call me Gabi.”
“Okay Gabi,” Pablo said. “Well, my brother told me you wanted to talk to me.”
“Yes. The truth is that everything he told me all sounds a bit weird and I wanted to hear it from the source. It’s a little hard to believe that an opportunity like this one has come my way, especially after what just happened.”
Well, he talks about his incident with no problems. Typically that means he’s overcome it, thought Pablo.
“Yeah, I’m sure it sounded like he was making it up. How about I explain everything to you from the beginning and see if it makes sense to you then?”
“Okay.”
Pablo told him everything he knew about the project. Not only what Reyes had told him but also what he had seen from the beginning. He told Gabi about Mr. Gotthelf and Alps Tankers, Navantia and the BAM with its modifications, and the little he knew about what they would do in Somalia. He even told him about Grease.
“It still sounds incredible,” Gabi said. “But I must say I agree with the whole approach. I would just add a holding and monitoring plan for possible captured pirates, as well as establishing clear procedures after they are left in the hands of justice or wherever, and above all, one or two translators.
Gabi hadn’t asked about exactly what role was being offered to him. What had Nacho said to him? Was Gabi assuming that he was going to command? Or that it would be Pablo? Maybe he didn’t care? Or maybe he hadn’t wondered?
Pablo decided he had to stop racking his brain and be practical. One way or another, Gabi would be his closest partner, either as head or subordinate, and they needed a relationship based on sincerity. But before he could react, Gabi asked, “And what exactly is the role you’re offering?”
“I’ll be honest with you. My boss has not yet decided who will command the ship. I was his first choice but the roles are not yet determined. All I’m doing for now is trying to find the rest of the officers. Going by what my brother told me, with your experience you’d make a magnificent executive officer and operations officer if you’re not the captain.”
“Thank Nacho for me for the compliment. That’s something, coming from him.”
Pablo decided to not beat around the bush. They were past the point of no return.
“So, can I count on you?”
After a pause, Gabi said, “The truth is that everything sounds great, but a decision like this cannot be taken lightly. I’ll have to ask my wife and think about what my family will do. Also, you’ve not said anything about a salary.”
“As far as money is concerned, don’t worry. Our ship owner doesn’t mind spending whatever it takes and in addition to your salary there will probably be some bonuses added for aborted attacks and captured pirates.”
