The Torkan Navegant

Steve Browning sat on the deck against the hard steel wall and looked up at the patch of black sky and stars above him. It was still hot out and there was no breeze. Sweat ran down his face and arms. He was tired but he was almost finished. Then he’d get some sleep. He looked down in the dim light of the distant sodium vapor lamps at the short ax he held in both of his hands and turned his head a little sideways. In the dim salmon-colored light his hands and forearms looked like they’d gotten a bad spray-paint job with a dark primer-red paint, so did the wooden handle of the ax, but the head of the ax was amazingly clean. When you’re at sea, steel has to be either painted or covered with oil to keep it from corroding in the salt air. That coating made the blood just slide off the blade without sticking.

He’d been onboard the oil tanker Torkan Navegant for almost three months. He was one of four crewmen on the ship, well two now. Normally there would be at least 14 people in the crew if the ship was moving but this ship wasn’t going anywhere, at least not for a while. Steve heard a door clang shut somewhere on the port side of the bridge structure behind him. It wasn’t close by but he held his breath and listened for another sound closer to him. No sounds followed, Patel wasn’t coming toward him, at least not yet.

Arup Patel was looking for him, if he wasn’t he would be soon, he was sure of that and when he found him, one of them would die. Joe had been the first to try to kill Steve. He almost did, would have succeeded for sure if Steve hadn’t been alerted to their plan and made the first move. Steve had outwitted them, and he could thank God for that.

It had all started out so good, like God had sent it to him. Steve’d been out of work for months. Waiting for another berth on a working ship. Waiting. Paying the dues on his merchant seaman license. He went to the job center near the docks every day, checked in and sat there waiting for anything to open up. Then he’d leave the center and go to a bar and drink himself into a blind rage every night. He went through the money from the last job pretty quick that way. And then one day this job got posted, the Torkan Navegant.

The job was to be part of small a caretaker crew on an oil tanker that was parked at sea. The tanker was loaded with crude oil that wasn’t needed and so the tanker was being turned into an FSO, basically a huge floating storage unit for the crude oil. The tanker might sit out there for a couple years, maybe more, it depended on the market and that had nothing to do with Steve. There were lots of FSO’s sitting out there in the world’s oceans, the Navegant was just going to be the latest one. A crew of four men, would live aboard the huge ship and make sure that nothing happened to it and keep it safe and secure.

The Navegant wasn’t a normal job for a merchant seaman, it didn't have a starting and a stopping place and a time limit and it paid less than most of the other openings but it was open-ended on how long it would last and right now that sounded good to Steve. He was 31 years old and had nothing to show for his life, except some shitty tattoos, a police record in several countries, and a drinking and drugging habit that would surely kill him sooner than later while keeping him broke and in trouble until that day. Steve realized that this was his chance to stop his insanely prolonged suicide by drugs and alcohol and salvage some little taste of living before his time was up. This job was the answer to one of those prayers he’d whispered in the night just before passing out. It would be like rehab but without the lectures and meetings.

He’d come to the end of his rope. The last few days before finding this job he’d been on an alcohol only diet trying to conserve the last of his money. So when he heard about this job he spent one shaky night drinking as much juice and water as he could stand then went into the job center the next day and peed into a cup. The idea that this job was sent by God to save his life was confirmed when he passed the drug test and signed the contract for the job. The company put him on a container ship to Singapore the next day where he’d meet the other three guys that would be babysitting the tanker. That was just over three months ago.

He had no idea at the time who those three guys were and how they were going to change his life.

Joe Aromdee was older than Steve and came from Thailand, and had a shitty-looking, sparse beard and what Steve’s mom would’ve called “shifty” eyes. Arup Patel was a short, dark intense looking guy from India who usually worked the engine room in the second or third assistant engineer position, a much more skilled and higher paying job than being a regular deck monkey like Steve. Steve figured Patel must have done something pretty bad to be taking a job like this. But that was his business, not Steve’s. Finally, there was Isaac Latu, maybe 28 years old from American Samoa. Latu was a big handsome fucker with incredibly white teeth and a great smile. Steve wished he had a smile like Latu. Unlike Steve, the women probably lined up for Latu. He was six foot four and maybe 240 pounds of muscle. He looked like Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson, except Latu had short wavy hair, and if you looked, a cruel edge to his smile.

Those three guys were already in Singapore when Steve arrived and they were all taken straight to the Navegant to relieve what was left of the regular crew there. A company engineer and a trainer from Torkan Shipping Ltd. of Bermuda stayed on the Navegant with the four members of the new caretaker crew for one week and trained them on all the duties they were being paid to carry out. Since there were only four men aboard they each had their own cabin. The men had to learn maintenance procedures, the checklists to be completed, emergency equipment and procedures, everything they needed to know to carry out what would soon become a boring existence of repetitive routines. The rules said that there would be no alcohol or drugs of any kind allowed on board the ship at any time. There would be no other people allowed on board the ship except for company and security personnel. A tender would visit the Navegant monthly to deliver food, water and other consumables. The men were going to work in six-hour shifts, two men on at a time, around the clock to maintain the 900 foot long ship. Anyone breaking the rules would be fired and left in Singapore to find passage home for themselves and they’d be reported to the merchant marine authority, which would pretty much end their lives as licensed merchant seamen. In addition, in some cases, they could be prosecuted under the marine security act.

There was quite a bit of concern about the FSO’s like the Navegant becoming targets of piracy and terrorism. A $65 million ship filled with one million barrels of crude oil would make a huge prize or a huge mess if it were to fall into the wrong hands, so even though the South China Sea off the eastern coast of Malaysia was watched over by the Royal Malaysian Navy, Torkan and its insurors also contracted with private security firms that were on call to respond with massive force if anyone tried to attack or take over one of Torkan’s vessels, including the Navegant. The crew’s job in this case was simply to recognize a problem and radio the company for help if the ship came under attack.

After the week of training the company men left and the four men settled into their duties. The first week was especially tough on Steve as his body learned to function without the constant assault by chemicals. He was shaking and sick to his stomach and didn’t sleep, but he lived through it and by the middle of the second week he felt better than he had in a long time. He began reading books from the ship’s meager library, especially the Bible, while the other three preferred playing cards and watching TV and movies on the ship’s satellite system.

Steve gradually learned a little bit about his shipmates, none of it was too shocking. He picked up that all of the other three members of the crew had had problems in their past. That was, after all, how you ended up taking a job on a ship going nowhere. They all had police records but it couldn’t have been very serious stuff or the company would have never taken a chance on them.

After a few weeks Steve started to notice some things about the other three that bothered him. For instance, they said they hadn’t worked together before this job and even went through elaborate introductions when they first arrived on the ship but they seemed strangely at ease around each other right away and that wasn’t very common in Steve’s experience, but he chalked it up to cultural differences. Working commercial ships was kind of like the French Foreign Legion when it came to men and their pasts. It was better not to ask or answer a lot of questions.

When the three first arrived they’d all spoken some English but the longer they spent on the ship the less English they spoke. When they spoke to each other they used a language that Steve didn’t know, it might have been Tagalog or any one of another 2000-some Asian languages. They seemed to prefer each other’s company and not to hang around Steve. All Steve really knew was he didn’t know what they were talking about and when they were laughing and sneaking looks at him he felt like he was the odd-man-out.

Still, he’d worked in the big world long enough to know you didn’t have to like the people you worked with. In fact, you could even hate each other as long as you got the job done and stayed out of each other’s way, life would go on. Steve did his best to just stay to himself and keep his nose out of anyone else’s business. After all, this was more than just a job to Steve. God had sent him here to save his life, and Steve was going to listen to God for once.

And then one night Steve got a message straight from God. Steve had finished his six-hour shift or watch during which he’d been partnered with Joe Aromdee and even though he hadn’t seen him during the watch, they’d talked on the radio. It was 10:00 PM and they returned to the galley and reported to the other two guys who were just starting their six-hour watch. Then Steve and Joe grabbed something to eat before going their separate ways.

While Joe had stayed in the galley eating and playing video games, Steve had gone to his cabin to read and relax. He got into his bunk and picked up his Bible and instead of opening it at the marker where he’d left off, he opened it to a random page and found that he was in Psalms Chapter 21, the psalm of David, his eyes were drawn to verse 11. It said, “Though they plot evil against you and devise wicked schemes, they cannot succeed.”

Steve closed his eyes and thought about what this might mean and he heard a voice that said, “I’ve sent you this message and you have heard. The other three plan to kill you and throw your body into the sea.”

At first, Steve didn’t think that he’d heard this correctly. He said, “Who are you? Are you God? Why are you talking to me now?”

The voice said, “I have chosen you and shown you the hearts of your enemies. You must strike first. There is no time. You must kill them before they kill you. You must kill them now.”

Steve asked, “Why do they want to kill me?”

The voice answered, “You stand in their way. They are evil men with evil minds and you are in their way. You must kill them now. There is no time. I will send you a sign to show that this is the truth.”

Steve had never had anything like this happen. He opened his eyes and sat on the edge of the bunk. Was it true that the other three were going to kill him? It must be. It might explain so much.

Steve thought and thought and tried to remember all of the things that had happened over the past weeks that made him suspect that they were plotting against him. There was the way they spoke in their secret language to hide their thoughts from him. What other reason could there be for such actions as that? It was clear to him that they all knew each other before they came on board. If Steve was the only one not involved in their plan, they had to get rid of him. Should he radio the company and tell them the other three were planning something? He couldn’t until he knew for sure what it was. How could he find out? He needed to go and look for the reason, he would search their cabins if necessary. Maybe there were papers or something that showed what they were going to do. That was what the voice meant by a sign.

There would be no sleeping for Steve now, he had to settle this thing. He got up and put on his shoes and went up to the galley. The galley was the common area where everyone ate and relaxed and it was lit by fluorescent tubes on the ceiling which cast it in a slightly blue-green light. Joe was no longer there and Steve began looking through the cupboards and shelves. He looked through the magazine rack and books that were lying on the tables. He went into the little room with a toilet and sink, the head, attached to the galley and looked behind the pipes and in the small cabinet. Then he went back into the galley and looked through the large trash can that sat next to the end of the counter where the crew prepared food.

He removed the contents one piece at a time and looked through it then threw it on the floor. He opened empty food containers and looked into them, he unfolded dirty paper towels and checked each side. When he was near the bottom he pulled out a piece of yellow notebook paper that was crumpled and he flattened it out so that he could read it.

It was done in pencil and there were at least two different styles of writing on it. There was a rough diagram that looked like the ship’s deck with a circle or oval next to it. There were X’s at several places with swooping lines with arrowheads at the ends going in different directions. He saw blocks of writing in a language unknown to him. He saw a scribbled bit of English in one block that looked like his name STEVE. The diagram could have been an idea about how to offload supplies from the tender or it might show how to bring people aboard from a boat brought alongside.

He heard a scraping sound and looked up to see Joe Aromdee standing in the doorway across the room looking at him, puzzled, his head cocked slightly to the side. Steve looked down at the trash on the floor around him and started to make an excuse about losing something but then glanced back at Joe and he saw that Joe was looking at the wrinkled and stained yellow notepaper Steve held in his hands. Joe’s face with its scraggly beard changed into a sly smile and Steve heard the voice from his cabin say, “He knows now that you understand. He will go and tell the others. You must kill him now.”

Steve had a just a moment of internal protest thinking that none of this was proof that the others were planning anything and then the feeling surged back into him that he’d been chosen by God to take this job for a purpose and the purpose had been revealed and, like those people he’d read about in the Bible, he needed to get on with God’s work.

He threw the paper down and took off across the room at Joe. Joe’s eyes flared open in surprise and he turned and bolted down the narrow steel passageway. Steve knew he had to get him quickly before he could get outside and call for help. Steve couldn’t beat all of them at once, but one at a time, he had the will for it.

Joe was quickly increasing the distance and getting away as they ran silently down the passageway, and he made a couple sharp turns that would lead him outside the main bridge structure where he could yell for help. Joe slowed more at the turns and was suddenly within reach of Steve’s long arms. He grabbed for Joe’s back and caught just enough shirt to pulled him into the wall and knock him to the ground. Steve didn’t hesitate and dropped viciously on Joe’s back knocking the breath out of him. Joe tried to scream but it came out as a wheeze and Steve grabbed him by the ears and smashed his head into the steel deck. That was it. Joe ceased struggling for a second and that second was all it took for Steve to break Joe’s head on the deck.

Only then did Steve begin to breathe hard and fast. There was a moment of dizzying regret, of wild thoughts of guilt as the frightening realization of what he’d just done washed over him and he gagged and retched. But the next moment it was gone and he felt once again clad in the armor and light of his protector, his God, and he turned to his next job. He needed to find the next one as quickly as he could. Isaac and Arup would be separated while they were on their watch. He didn’t know where they were but all he needed to do was arm himself and move quietly until he found one of them.

Steve stood up and looked at his bloody hands. He watched as they transformed in seconds before his eyes, from shaking weakness to strong steady tools. He took a deep breath and moved off down the passageway.

It was a moonless night as he left the bridge structure which was near the aft end of the ship. He grabbed one of the small axes that were hung at regular intervals on the bulkheads around the ship. Emergency equipment like axes, ropes, life preservers and fire extinguishers and alarm pulls were nearby, wherever you were on most ships. The ax was about two and a half feet long and had a head with both a blade side and hammer/prybar side. Steve spun the tool in his hands as he moved along the walkways. At night the deck was lit by regularly spaced sodium vapor lamps that created large islands of salmon-colored light when viewed from above. He went through the door from the deck into the base of the bridge structure and walked slowly down the metal stairway to the mechanical areas. One of the watch crew would probably be checking the engine room and associated areas. Those areas were the most labor intensive and complicated and took the most time run through the associated checklists.

He saw that the watertight door to the engine area was open and he moved through it and down the passageway listening for sounds of where the next person was. As he approached the noisy room that contained the diesel generators that powered the lights and outlets he saw the door was open. He briefly stood with his back against the wall of the corridor next to the door and savored this moment. He was pleased by how calm he felt.

He turned and peeked around the doorway into the hot noisy room and saw Isaac Latu standing sideways with a clipboard in his hands making notes from the gauges on one of the generators. Latu was looking closely at his work and didn’t notice when Steve came through the door and started down the walkway between the banks of machines. The noise of the running generators drowned out any sound made by Steve’s footsteps.

Latu caught movement in the corner of his vision and looked up when Steve was about six feet away and his expression rapidly changed from a question to business when he saw the ax and the bloody hands. Latu turned to face him and took a couple steps backward to give himself time and space to shift gears. Steve looked at him and thought they were both ready for this. Latu was not that surprised to see Steve and the ax.

Latu took one more step back and reached down picking up two large wrenches from a plastic five-gallon bucket of tools that sat beside the walkway. He must have been working on something down here earlier. Steve thought that this was tough luck but he hadn’t expected this to be anything but what it was. The wrenches were both over 20 inches long and looked like they fit heads that were in the 1 ½” to 2” range.

If Latu was worried or scared his face didn’t show it. He was all business and Steve was OK with that. He wasn’t trying to sneak up on anyone, he was doing God’s work after all.

Latu stood still and Steve walked steadily toward him. Latu seemed to tower over Steve and his massive shoulders blocked out all view of what was behind him. It was over a hundred degrees in the noisy room and sweat dripped from both men’s faces. Steve noticed for the first time a small silver crucifix hanging on a delicate chain around Latu’s shining coffee colored neck. Maybe he had been a good person at one time before becoming evil. It was too bad he wouldn’t have a chance to repent. That too was none of Steve’s business.

Many men would have turned and run away from the sight of Latu with those wrenches, but Steve kept moving forward. As he approached Latu he could feel the energy between them build rapidly and he almost expected to see arcs of lightning discharge into the steel machinery they passed. Instead he saw Latu’s face suddenly break into a brilliant smile that showed almost all of his glowing white teeth. Steve almost smiled himself as he felt a surge of power. This must be the sign he was promised. Latu with his handsome face, appeared radiantly beautiful before him. A fitting sacrifice to God, ready to kill or be killed. No worry, no fear, completely ready. Steve said a quick thanks for this opportunity to be a part of this holy performance. Whichever of them died here would become a part of something much greater.

Steve realized that nothing had been said between them. That was also a sign of how correct this was. He felt proud.

Suddenly, the big Samoan lunged at Steve raising both wrenches high and bringing them down with all his might to break Steve’s arms or shoulders or head. When Latu moved forward, Steve took two quick steps back bringing his ax up and without pausing took one step forward swinging it down as hard as he could, as if he knew exactly where the big man’s body was going to be when the head of his ax finished its arc.

As if it were choreographed on a Hollywood set, the two wrenches passed down between the men striking nothing but the steel floor and pulling the top half of Latu’s body after them. A split second later the ax head arrived. The ax struck Latu in the angle between his head and his massive left shoulder and almost buried itself there. It was all the damage needed to disable and kill the big man but it wasn’t nearly the end of the damage that Steve did to him.

When he finished Steve staggered back and sat on the floor to catch his breath. His arms and shoulders burned from the exertions. As he sat there he looked back down the aisle at Latu’s body and marveled at how much blood had come out of him. Much more than normal, he was sure, enough for two men. And those huge muscles were beautiful in their bright red vitality. As he looked closely he could see the surfaces still twitching and quivering as the life struggled on even at the cellular level. Life was miraculous and beautiful when you really looked at it, he thought.

He got up on legs that were slightly shaking and stretched to regain his balance. One more to go. He left the generator room but not before turning off the lights and dogging the door behind him as per regulations.

Steve climbed the stairs back up onto the main deck and walked around to the other side of the bridge structure. He sat down and leaned back against the steel wall and rested there listening for his last shipmate, Arup Patel to come along. It made sense for him to be on this side if Latu had been on the other side.

He sat there against the wall and looked at the black sky and the stars for a while, they were beautiful. There was beauty and wonder all around him. Then he looked down at this hands and the ax. He heard a door clang shut in the bridge structure and knew it was Patel. Patel might be looking for him or not. But he soon would be. But Steve thought he knew where to find Arup Patel and he didn’t see any need to delay the encounter. Steve was tired and he could take a nap when he finished his work.

Steve wondered if he should go up and disable the radio so that Patel couldn’t call for help, but what would that gain him? Patel wasn’t going to call for help even if he found the other two. Whatever the three had planned was wrong and Patel wouldn’t take a chance exposing it. The tender had been there the week before, so they had at least three weeks before the next check in with the company. Whatever the plan was, it had to take place before the next tender visit, about three weeks from now. After he took care of Patel, killed Patel, Steve would figure out what the plan had been and then he’d call the company to let them know. They would take care of the rest.

He got up and went around the corner and entered the bridge structure from a door in the side. Inside he paused and listened until he heard another noise from above in the distance. He went quickly up the stairway holding the ax by his side in his right hand. When he reached the third level, the level that had the galley and radio room he stopped and waited outside the door. He could hear someone in one of the nearby rooms talking to himself in that other language. Even though he didn’t understand him Steve felt he knew what the man was saying. He was saying what a mess it was in here with the trash all over the floor and how he was going to kick someone’s ass when he found them and then Patel’s voice stopped. Steve listened closely and tried to imagine what was happening.

Steve thought that Patel had probably come up here after not being able to raise his partner Latu on the radio. Maybe he thought Latu was up here eating or goofing off. Then when he got here he saw the mess on the floor and got mad. Now he was thinking something else was going on, but he wasn’t sure what it was.

“Isaac?” Arup Patel called in English. Odd. Why English? “Isaac, are you here?” A few footsteps sounded in the galley. “Isaac, are you in there?” A knock on a wooden door. It could only have been the door to the head, off the galley, Steve thought. OK enough, he knew where Patel was standing.

Steve swept around the doorway and crossed the corner of the room in three strides. Patel hearing the sudden steps behind him said, “Isaac. Didn’t you …” and turned around just in time to see the blur of the ax head coming at his chest. His head turned to see Steve but Patel’s gaze never had time to focus on Steve’s face before he died. Patel’s body fell backward into the little room striking the toilet.

Steve pushed his feet in and closed the wooden door after him. He then dropped the ax and went down to his room and fell into his bunk. He briefly thought about washing the blood from his arms and hands before lying down, but the blood was a sign to God that he was a worthy vessel. He lay there and his mind whirled and spun with thoughts and connections. He thought about being a vessel and the Navegant being a vessel, and washing away the blood and the blood washing away his sins and his past, the blood of the Lamb, he saw the little silver crucifix on Latu’s neck and he thought that the little cross must have been the sign that God had said that He would send. He once again saw Latu’s face smiling at him and wondered at its impossible beauty. Or maybe it was the yellow note paper with the drawing on it. Maybe that was the sign. What did the drawing look like again? He was so tired he couldn’t remember.

As he was about to fall asleep, he heard the voice again.

“You must come to me now. You must take your own life. You must kill yourself. You are the lamb. You are the sign. You have spilled the blood and now your blood must spill.”

“Alright, God. I will. But first I have to sleep. I can’t do it now. Let me sleep and then I’ll do it. Or just take me while I sleep. I have to sleep,” and Steve fell asleep. A deep dreamless sleep, like he hadn’t slept since childhood.

When he awoke it was morning and there was sunlight coming through the tiny window in his cabin.

He lay there for a few moments as the memories of the previous night came back to him one at a time and he wondered if he’d dreamed it all. He started to raise his arms to look at them and stopped. Either way, he wouldn’t know what to think. He couldn’t put it off any longer and he slowly raised his right hand up turning it slowly so that he could see it was covered in dried brownish blood that was flaking off onto the sheets of his bed. His fingernails were caked with dried blood and for another moment he tried to remember how it had all started.

It was like when he was drinking every night, a little like a blackout, except small bits flashed before his eyes. Like a movie he’d seen while drunk.

Oh my God. Had he really killed the other three? Oh my God. oh my, oh my God. He was afraid to leave his cabin. Afraid to retrace his steps and confront the horror of what he’d done.

Could he just sit in his cabin until the next tender arrived? Was that reality?

He got up and walked out of his cabin and went into the head just down the passageway and went to a sink and looked into the mirror over the sink. Dried blood covered his face and chest. He almost couldn’t recognize the face as his own. My God. What had he done?

He turned on the tap full and tried to wash his face clean. He settled for getting most of the blood of his face and forearms. He grabbed a towel and dried off as he left the bathroom and went up the stairs to the galley.

As he walked in he saw the trash all over the floor by the trashcan and he saw the yellow paper lying there. He walked over, picked it up and looked at it. It was two ovals with lines and arrows, X’s. There was writing in another language but he could see nothing that looked like his name. It could have been some variation of tic-tac-toe for all he knew. What had he thought it was? He could see nothing in it now.

A sudden memory came back and his head snapped around and he looked at the door to the little head off the galley. The door was closed and on the floor there was the ax and then he could see the slightest hint of red at the bottom edge of the door. His head began to spin at the realization and he bent over retching, but nothing came out.

He couldn’t deal with this. What was he supposed to do now? And then he remembered the voice and the last thing it told him the night before. It was right. He had to kill himself. There was no way out of this now. But he needed to call the company and tell them what happened. He needed to let them know and then he would kill himself. He could do that much. He went to the cabinet and opened a drawer and removed a small paring knife he could use to cut his wrist.

He went out into the hallway and saw Joe Aromdee’s bloodied body lying farther down the passageway. He turned his head quickly away from the sight and climbed the stairs up to the bridge level.

He went into the bridge and sat down at the desk that held the radiotelephone and the communications computer. He laid the knife down on the desk and pulled out the binder that held the instructions for using the equipment and flipped to the first chapter on calling the company.

The equipment was always left on so that it could accept and log messages from the company to the ship. Most of these would come across as written messages and not voice communications. As he ran his index finger down the checklist for using the system, he noticed a red star flashing on the computer’s screen. Next to the star was the word URGENT in red letters that also flashed. He wondered briefly what to do next, but took a chance and used the computer mouse to move the cursor over to click on the star.

The screen changed and a window opened with a message. Steve read the screen and then sat back in the swivel chair and said, “Fuck!” and his mouth dropped open. He looked at the time and date on the message then moved his eyes quickly to the system clock in the corner of the screen. The date and time of the message was barely eight minutes before.

The message read;









*** ATTENTION - ATTENTION – ATTENTION *** - CREW OF THE TORKAN NAVEGANT: PREPARE TO REPEL BORDERS. CREDIBLE INTELLIGENCE GATHERED BY THE KOR RISIK DIRAJA (ROYAL INTELLIGENCE CORPS) OVER THE PAST 12 HOURS INDICATES ATTACK ON THE TORKAN NAVEGANT IS IMMINENT BY HEAVILY ARMED MEMBERS OF MUJAHIDEEN INDONESIA TIMOR (MIT), AN ISLAMIC STATE AFFILIATE IN INDONESIA. DECODED MESSAGES INDICATE PLAN TO SINK NAVEGANT WITH CARGO, SOME NAVEGANT CREW MEMBERS MAY BE INVOLVED. THIS INTELL CARRIES AN ADMIRALTY RATING OF “AA” FOR RELIABILITY AND CONFIRMATION. MALAYSIAN MILITARY FORCES AND CONTRACTOR HAVE BEEN DISPATCHED. ACKNOWLEDGE! ACKNOWLEDGE! - END OF MESSAGE.



The End.