Outside the cave, the scorching wind swirled up the sand, as if echoing the rising murderous intent within.
Almost concurrently.
Somalia, Bosaso, a dilapidated port.
The salty, decayed sea breeze mingled with the stench of fish and garbage, blowing past the rusty corrugated iron shacks and the wrecks of stranded boats on the mudflat.
On a modified boat barely recognizable as a high-speed interception craft, a group of dark-skinned, menacing-eyed men crowded into the cramped cabin.
The mix of sweat, cheap tobacco, and fish oil was suffocating.
The pirate chieftain "One-Eyed" Bakal's face bore a centipede-like scar, and at that moment, his remaining eye was fixed on the satellite phone screen handed over by his subordinate, which displayed the text of the bounty notice.
He gulped down a mouthful of cheap palm wine, the spicy liquid burning his throat yet igniting a terrifying gleam in his single eye.
"One billion! US Dollars!"
