The buzzing woke Amir. He yawned and glanced at his watch: 03:30.
 
Why had he set his alarm for so early?
 
As he rubbed the sleep from his eyes, the alarm contin­ued its incessant buzzing. He reached over to switch it off and promptly fell to the floor. Dazed, Amir looked around the darkened briefing room and at his upturned chair. Of course, he wasn’t in bed. He was on night duty, supposedly monitoring Operation Gemini.
 
The buzzing grew more urgent, and Amir scrambled up to his desk. On the glowing computer screen a Red Alert icon was flashing. Clicking on the pulsing box, he stared at the few stark lines of text, then grabbed his phone.
 
“What is it, Amir?” Charley answered drowsily.
 
“Distress call from the Orchid.”
 
There was a moment’s silence as the words sank in. Then she replied, “I’ll be right down,” her voice sharp and alert.
 
 
A short while later, Charley wheeled herself through the door, wearing a T-shirt and sweatpants.
 
“What information do we have?”
 
Amir nodded to his computer screen. “The Orchid sent out a DSC distress signal at 0625 hours, Seychelles local time. It gave her position as two hundred and forty nautical miles east-northeast of Mahé.”
 
“Do we know the actual problem?”
 
Amir swallowed anxiously. “Pirates.”
 
Charley looked at him. “Seems like you’ve lost your bet with Ling,” she said, her tone bereft of humor. “Any commu­nication from Connor?”
 
Amir shook his head. “The distress signal was picked up by the Seychelles Maritime Rescue and Coordination Cen­ter. Since the Orchid’s out of range for VHF radio and cell phones, a satellite call is the only possible option. But there’s no mention of it in this report.”
 
Charley picked up the phone. “I’ll contact the Seychelles coast guard for an update. In the meantime, wake Colonel Black, then see if you can get through to Connor via your SOS app.”