by Sewell, Ron
Henry checked his watch. “It’s time. From his jacket he removed a small recorder. He rewound and pressed play. Ryan’s voice came across loud and clear. “Glad we talked. Say hello to my father.”
Ryan looked at him with a quizzical expression on his face. “You said you’d bandage my leg.”
“I lied.” From behind his back he drew the silenced Indian Ashani pistol and shot Ryan three times in the head. “When the animals are finished with you no one will ever know.”
He strolled away into the darkness, found his motorbike, started the engine and returned to the hotel. The game was on; time to jump to the next level.
Chapter Seven
Henry showered and being refreshed, sat on his balcony as he composed a text to Peter Wells. Finished, he pressed ‘send’. Relaxed, he let his mind wander as he recapped his progress. Dai Lin needed to be eradicated. The woman Linda Liu murdered his father but where was she?
His room telephone rang. He leapt out of his chair and raced to the phone.
“Good evening, Henry.”
“Hi, Peter. I just sent you a text.”
“I know. The goods you require will take a couple of days to arrange. The boys in Mumbai are working on it as we speak. By the way, we have removed the garbage we talked about. Anyway, how was your meeting?”
“Fruitful but I won’t be seeing him again.”
“As I said before, be careful. Enjoy your holiday.”
“Thanks, Peter, I will.” The line went dead. He leaned back and picked up a day-old copy of The Times and began the crossword.
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Frankie stroked Linda’s hair. “You’re not like me. I’m a lesbian and I enjoy being free to express my feelings.”
Linda Liu shrugged. “I’m bisexual when needs must. With sex you can control weak men. They will crawl across broken glass for a blow job if it’s good. You can extract information and make a deal of money. I enjoy sex with you but I make a lot of money from men.”
“I tried it with a man once. Three minutes he lasted then rolled over and went to sleep.”
“The trick is, Frankie, to keep them awake by demanding more, ride them as you would a horse. It makes them believe they’re so good. Scream when you reach a fake climax and they’ll beg like a hungry dog. I agree most men are ‘wham-bam-thank-you,’ but now and then one comes along and hits the bull’s eye.”
“Each to their own. I live for now and love your hands touching, caressing my body in the right places.”
“Just my hands?”
“Turn the light out and shut up.”
Part Two
Chapter One
London, England
Dressed in a blue pin-striped suit, Charles Haskell, an arms dealer and security consultant, relaxed in the bar of The Tower Hotel. The fingers of his right hand stroked the jagged scar on his face. He sipped a large brandy while perusing a copy of the insurance report relating to the hijacking of MV Goliath. At five minutes to seven he stared out of the window. A smile spread across his face when on the stroke of seven a black cab arrived. A man jumped out and dashed into the building. Tom Scott was a short, fat man with an unhealthy paleness to his skin which made him look older than his sixty-five years.
Charles turned as he entered and shook hands with Tom. Charles was approaching the same age but appeared fitter and stronger.
“Long time,” said Tom.
“And a different world.”
“Have you booked a table?”
“Better than that, I’ve booked a suite where we can discuss this little problem of yours.”
Tom shrugged. “As the firm’s paying, the food better be good.”
“The Beef Wellington from this chef is to die for. I’ve ordered our meal for eight. If I’m wrong, I’ll settle the account when we leave.”
Tom shook his head. “You’ve never paid for a meal in your life.”
He chuckled. “I’m sure I did once but there’s always a first time.”
They took the lift to the fifth floor and strolled to their room. Charles opened the door and the two men entered. Near the window overlooking the Thames a table was set for two.
Charles checked the time when someone knocked on the door. “Spot on. I prefer to chat while enjoying a good meal.”
The waiter set out the dishes containing the meal and poured two glasses of red wine. “Will that be all, gentlemen?”
Charles gave the waiter a twenty pound tip. “Make sure we are not disturbed.”
He smiled. “I guarantee privacy, sir.”
As the door closed Tom laughed. “Bet he believes we’re a couple of uphill gardeners”
“You’re not my type and privacy has kept me ahead of the game for the last thirty years. Many people in London want to know what I’m up to. When the deal is done I don’t care, so start talking."
“As you know, my organisation operates some of the biggest tankers in the world. They’re modern, fast and function with minimum crew. You’ve read the report, we lost one.”
Charles finished savouring his mouthful of tender beef before answering. “That part I know.”
“Pirates stole my ship.” Tom paused to gather his thoughts and went on to describe the hijacking in detail. “And according to the crew, they came out of nowhere, murdered the captain, stole the oil and that’s the last time anyone saw Goliath.”
“Someone knows where she is or was. We just have to find that someone. Great food isn’t it?”
“Charles, we’re talking two hundred million pounds plus and our insurers are not happy bunnies. Thank God we followed their recommendations to the letter. The Goliath was five hundred miles away from the nearest point of land when they struck. These days the warships and aircraft from Australia, France, New Zealand, the USA and the UK are being directed by the Canadian-led task group to step up efforts in the Gulf of Oman, Gulf of Aden, Red Sea and Arabian Sea. No one can expect every inch of the seas to be covered but I believe she was targeted.”
Charles leaned back in his chair and shrugged. “You’ve been paid out and apart from the death of the captain, just your insurance company felt the pain. What do you want me to do?”
“Make my ships pirate-proof.”
Charles dabbed his mouth with a napkin and positioned his cutlery at right angles to himself. “From what you’ve said, the identity of this gang remains a mystery. I believe your chief officer reported the hijackings are the work of organised professionals with knowledge of how to disable and or operate ships’ systems. At the moment I provide numerous vessels with armed guards to scare or fire on the pirates before they board. It appears to work as the hijacking has almost stopped off the east African coast.”
Tom went to the small fridge, found three miniature bottles of Famous Grouse whisky, poured them into a glass and took a gulp. “Charles, will you help?”
“I can’t promise anything until I talk to my associates.”
“Are they in shipping?”
“No, but when it comes to attacking the enemy they have an honours degree. This can of worms needs professionals not so-called security experts in expensive suits and they don’t come cheap.”
“Fine by me. I leave it to you.” He finished his whisky.
“By your empty plate I assume the beef was delicious. I’d better be going. Don’t forget to settle the account on the way out.”
At reception Tom paused, handed over his credit card and received his receipt.
Charles waited outside for his cab to arrive.
Chapter Two
Charles Haskell entered his office at eight in the morning and switched on the coffee percolator. He sat at his desk and phoned Petros Kyriades’ home number. It rang three times before a girl’s voice answered. “This is Alysa Kyriades speaking- can I help you?”
Charles chuckled. “I would like to speak to your father.”
“Does my daddy know you?”
“He and his friend Bear know me very well.”
“I love unc
le Bear. Do you?”
Petros strolled into the kitchen and switched the kettle on. “Alysa, who are you speaking to?”
“A man who likes uncle Bear.”
“Have you asked who you are speaking to?”
“Why?”
He shoved his fingers through his short blond hair. “It’s good manners to ask.”
Charlie, a full grown Alsatian, loped into the kitchen and lifted his bowl with his mouth.
Alysa placed one hand on the dog’s head and handed the phone to her father. “You ask. I’m going to feed Yarlie in the garden.”
He took the phone. “Petros Kyriades.”
“Charles Haskell. Good morning. I rather enjoyed talking to your daughter. So much innocence, it’s wonderful.”
“She’s eight going on twenty-eight. Anyway, you never phone for a chat. What are you after?”
“Your help.”
“Bear more often than not asks you to assist with certain prohibitive items but how can I help?”
“A friend has asked for my assistance in an important matter. If he’d wanted a small army to create a coup in Africa, no problem. It’s regarding ships, of which I know nothing. I need someone I can trust and will not say one thing and do another. Would you be interested if the price were right?”
“Is it risky or against the law?”
“Not in the least. This is kosher.”
“Say your piece and I’ll give you an answer. What about Bear?”
“The word is he’s married and retired. From what I’m told his wife doesn’t like people firing bullets at him.”
“He’s been promoted to my business consultant. If he tells me it’s a no-go, I listen. When would be a good time to meet?”
“Twelve today at the little bistro you often visit in St Katherine Docks.”
“You know darn well it belongs to Andreas, my property manager. I’ll have a word with Bear and you’re paying.”
Charles ended the call and Petros contacted Bear. “Can you make Andreas’ for twelve today?”
“Any particular reason?”
“Charles Haskell may, if we agree, have a job for us.”
“I’m intrigued. See you later.” The line went dead.
Maria, with a towel wrapped around her head and in her dressing gown, gave him a kiss on the lips. “You look excited, anyone I know?”
“Charles Haskell might have a job. I’m meeting with him and Bear at lunch time.”
She filled a bowl with cornflakes and milk. “Jocelyn won’t let him go and get shot at and I can’t blame her. You always tell me it’s straight forward but it never is.”
“Hey, I don’t know what the job is.”
She unwrapped the towel from her head and shook her hair. “I know you’ll accept whatever it is. You’re bored.”
“No, I’m not. I love being at home with you, my daughter and that stupid dog. But a change would be good for both of us.”
She placed the empty bowl into the dishwasher. “Go and play your little boys’ games. If you get hurt don’t expect any sympathy.”
“You worry too much.”
“It’s what wives who love their husbands do. By the way, after I’ve taken Alysa to school I’m off to my karate class.”
@@@
Andreas’ Bistro set back from the cobbled quay of St Katherine Docks was half full when Petros and Bear entered. He waved and pointed to the far end where a few tables remained empty.
“Guess he wants us away from his customers,” said Bear. “Can’t have the riff-raff mixing with the upper crust.”
“Upper crust, my arse. This lot get one hour to stuff their faces and then it’s back to their desks.”
Bear and Petros seated themselves at a table which gave them a clear view of the docks.
A young waitress with blonde hair and the impish face of an urchin stood close to Petros. Her black trousers clung to her legs and her white blouse was one size too small. The two buttons at the top were undone and revealed a tiny cleavage. “Ready to order, gentlemen?” Her eyes darted over Petros’ muscular frame. She stopped at his face and smiled.
Bear eyed the waitress. “Two black coffees please, and another gentleman will be joining us soon.”
She swaggered through the tables, her high heels drumming a tattoo on the tiled floor; aware every man in the room focused their eyes on her.
“If I dare suggest,” said Petros with a huge grin on his face, “don’t go there. She’d eat you up and spit out the pips. The wrath of Jocelyn descending would be your end.”
He shrugged. “A man can look.”
Petros took a deep breath. “You can get arrested for what you’re thinking.”
Andreas sauntered across with two mugs of coffee and placed them on the table. “This is not your normal visiting day or time. If you’d given me a call I could have reserved your usual table.”
“Not a problem,” said Petros. “We’re expecting Charles Haskell to join us.”
“Doesn’t he recruit ex-soldiers as mercenaries?”
“That’s him.”
“You can use my store room, it’s a bit quieter. I have a table and six chairs in there and I’ll keep you supplied with coffee.”
“When did you hire the blonde?” asked Bear.
“The drop-dead gorgeous Janice. Phoebe hired her last week to help out during lunch times. She’s at the LSE studying for her degree. A hard worker and earns her money. My male customers have doubled since she started.”
Petros lifted his mug and turned to Andreas. “We’ll take you up on the back room.”
They followed Andreas to the room, rearranged the table and chairs and waited.
“PK, can we have a word before you leave.”
“Got problems?”
“No, but I need a favour.”
“Ask away.”
“I’ve the opportunity to buy the freehold on this place but the bank requires a guarantor if I fail on the repayments.”
“How much do you need?”
“Two hundred thousand.”
“I’ll lend you the money and you pay me back when you can.”
Andreas’ face turned a bright red. “I wasn’t asking you for the money.”
“I know but I’ll have my solicitor make out a contract, no interest and you pay his fee. Makes it legal.”
“I won’t let you down.”
“Never gave it a thought. You’d better get back or your customers will start to complain.”
“You’re one of the best,” said Andreas as he almost skipped away.
Charles dressed as immaculate as ever wandered into the bistro and stopped inside the entrance. He gazed over the heads of those eating. Not seeing Petros or Bear he frowned and checked the time.
“You looking for someone or just being nosey?” asked Janice.
His eyes flashed annoyance as with his Sandhurst tone of voice said, “I arranged to meet two colleagues but it appears they are late.”
She managed a smile. “Blond-haired, good looking guy with a bald headed black man.”
“That’s them. When did they leave?”
“They didn’t. The boss put them in the backroom. It’s private and quiet. Follow me.”
“I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” said Charles as he opened the door.
“Janice, three more coffees, please,” said Petros. “Milk and sugar for our friend.”
Petros and Bear stood and greeted Charles.
“Started any good wars lately?” said Bear with a grin.
“Apart from the Middle East the world’s gone quiet and I’d rather stay away from that fracas.”
“Anyway, what’s this little job you have for us?” asked Petros.
Charles pulled out a chair, turned it around and sat with his arms resting on the back.
Bear leant back in his chair. “Remember, I don’t go to sea on boats.”
Charles detailed the hijacking of the Goliath.
Petros rubbed his chin. “You
asked for help.”
“Poachers and gamekeepers. The British army trained both of you to attack and kill people. I want you to simulate an attack on a tanker. That’s the easy part, and then devise a defence system.”
The door opened and Janice entered carrying a tray with three fresh coffees and a plateful of bacon rolls. “The boss said you might like these.”
“Now you’re talking,” said Bear. He leant forward, took the plate and placed it on the table. “Thank you.”
She smiled at Petros as she positioned each mug before them.
Petros waited until the door closed. “The shipping companies developed a defence strategy after the Somali pirates became active. I doubt if we can add to their advice.”
Charles smiled. “Advice given by men in Savile Row suits who wouldn’t know one end of a rocket-propelled grenade from the other. You two have the ability to discover the Achilles heel and close the door. Are you interested?”
“And the going rate for our valuable time?” asked Bear as he munched on a roll.
Charles shrugged and selected the smallest. “As always professional fees are negotiable. Fifty thousand for starters, plus costs and you travel first class.”
Petros grimaced. “I hate travelling by air but where to this time?”
“Simon’s Town, South Africa. In a couple of days a tanker belonging to the company who owned Goliath will be dry-docked and its hull cleaned and painted. You’ll have two weeks to study the problem, produce a plan and make it pirate proof.”
Time raced as they debated their options.
“Bear, fancy a couple of weeks in Cape Town, all expenses paid?” said Petros.
“And why not? I’ll book the flights tomorrow. PK, do you want that last roll?”
“Your need is greater than mine.”
“Cheers.”
Charles grinned as he took a white envelope from his jacket pocket. “Two first class tickets from Heathrow to Cape Town. You leave at two tomorrow afternoon.”
Bear grabbed the envelope and tore it open. “How did you know?”
He sighed with relief. “Simple, you’re both bored out of your skulls. I reasoned, whatever I offered you’d accept.”