Rough Diamonds (A Spider Shepherd short story)

by Stephen Leather

  ‘Bloody hell,’ said Shepherd. ‘No wonder the mercenaries were so keen to head straight here. He gestured at the bag. ‘Take as many as you want, Jerzy. You’ve earned them, fair and square. Just make sure there aren’t any complications once we get back to Freetown.’

  The Czech picked out six of the diamonds and slipped them into his pocket.

  ‘Enough?’ Shepherd said.

  He nodded. ‘More than I could make in five years flying choppers.’

  ‘What about the rest?’ Jock said.

  ‘They’re HMG’s, according to Parker,’ Shepherd said. ‘But I’m sure Her Majesty doesn’t need all of them’ He took the bag from Jerzy. ‘I can think of a much better home for them.’

  * * *

  Dawn was breaking as they began the flight back to Freetown. The diamond mines were continuing to operate almost as if they were fully automatic. Shepherd glanced down at the giant machines and the men who look like ants as they moved around them. ‘Unbelievable,’ he said. ‘We’ve just fought a pitched battle on their doorstep and yet they’ve all turned up and started work as if it had been nothing more than a fireworks party.’

  ‘Maybe they’ve seen so much fighting already that one more battle is just all part of the average working day,’ Jock said.

  As they took off, they saw a crowd of ragged looking men, most carrying spades and sieves, gathering outside the main fence of the mine. Shepherd stared at them for a moment and then said ‘Let’s do the locals a favour for once. Jerzy, put us into a hover outside the fence, will you? Jock, Jimbo, Geordie, try and get those guys to move back.’

  Jock slid open the cabin door and began gesturing at the men to move back. A few took a couple of steps backwards but most remained where they were, staring sullenly at the chopper. ‘I’ll just encourage them,’ Jock said, aiming his rifle. He put a few bursts into the dust between the miners and the fence and the crowd moved back. He fired another short burst into the ground and the men moved further away from the fence.

  ‘Be careful, mate, we don’t want them getting hurt from the ricochets,’ warned Shepherd.

  The men continued to move back. There were angry shouts and some of the miners shook their fists at the helicopter as it hovered above them.

  ‘Okay, here goes, ‘Shepherd said. Aiming the missiles at the base of the fence, he emptied the rocket pods into it. The ground erupted in smoke, flame and dust, but when the smoke had cleared, a long stretch of fencing had been obliterated. Jock leaned out of the cab and waved the men forward again. Instead of angry shouts and raised fists, a ragged cheer now went up and as the helicopter rose into the air and began to wheel away. As the flew off, they could see hordes of illegal miners sprinting for the fence, pouring through the gap and fanning out across the diamond fields.

  ‘It won’t last of course,’ Shepherd said. ‘But they might get one or two good days, before the companies drive them out again. Hopefully they’ll have found a few diamonds by then.’

  They dumped the Hind on the beach four miles from their hotel, with the remainder of the weapons they’d taken from the Liberian airfield still inside it. Shepherd set demolition charges and having checked that there were no civilians in the immediate area he set the timer and they hurried away.

  ‘It seems a shame to blow up a perfectly serviceable helicopter,’ Jerzy said. ‘It’s much better than anything I’ve been flying here.’

  ‘It has to go,’ Shepherd said. ‘Too many questions would be asked about it and it might set off a political shit-storm.’ The helicopter exploded behind them and a column of flame and smoke belched into the sky while metal fragments pattered down like raindrops onto the sand.

  They all shook hands with Jerzy outside the air force base after he’d arranged a lift back to the civilian airport. Shepherd, Jock, Jimbo and Geordie walked along the beach to their hotel. Shepherd was still carrying the bag of diamonds.

  Farid, the Lebanese diamond merchant, an overweight, balding middle-aged man with a gold Rolex on his wrist, was sitting in the lobby, and as soon as he saw them, he prised his bulk out of his chair and hurried over to them. ‘My friends,’ he said, dabbing the sweat from his brow with a large silk handkerchief, ‘I am very pleased to see you.’ He turned to Shepherd. ‘Do you have anything to sell to me?’

  ‘Why would I?’ Shepherd said exchanging a glance with Jock. The last time they had met Farid, he had been with Parker.

  ‘I just thought you might have come across some diamonds somewhere,’ Farid said, with a shifty smile.

  ‘There you are,’ said a voice and they turned to see Parker himself striding towards them, the trousers of his linen suit flapping behind him. ‘I’m glad to see you’re all fit and well. I hope you didn’t encounter too many unforeseen problems on that little task you were performing?’ He shifted his gaze to the leather bag that Shepherd was holding. ‘And I see you brought something back with you as well. Farid, I’m sorry to disappoint you, but on this occasion I’m afraid there’s nothing for you here.’

  He waited until Farid had walked back to his chair and sat down with his back to them before continuing. ‘I take it the South African gentlemen will not be causing us any further problems?’ he said.

  ‘Only for the undertakers,’ Jock said with a grim smile.

  ‘Excellent. Then there’s only one further matter to attend to.’ He held out his hand for the bag.

  Shepherd raised an eyebrow, making no move to give the bag to him.

  Parker’s lips tightened. ‘Surely I don’t need to remind you that, if those are what I think they are, they are the property of HMG and as her representative, I am authorised to take control of them.’ He paused. ‘And I am giving you a direct order to hand them over.’

  He took hold of the handle of the bag, and this time Shepherd shrugged and allowed him to take it. ‘Just tell me a couple of things, though,’ said Shepherd. ‘First of all: why did you bother bringing in the mercs in the first place? As we’ve just demonstrated, the SAS are perfectly capable of dealing with the rebels and any other enemy groups in Sierra Leone. Why did you hire a bunch of South African mercs instead of using professionals.’

  ‘That’s not your concern,‘ Parker said. ‘Need to know and all that.’

  ‘Do you know, or was it yet another decision taken above your pay grade?’

  Parker smiled tightly but didn’t answer.

  ‘Secondly: what’s going to happen to those diamonds now? Whose pockets are they going into, Jonathan? Perhaps some of your political friends in Downing Street are going to get a little windfall?’

  ‘Once more, that’s not your concern,’ Parker said.

  ‘Well, I’m betting it won’t be anyone in Sierra Leone anyway, because this was never about freeing the locals from tyranny, was it? It was all about politics, money and power.’

  ‘You don’t know the half of it, my idealistic friend,’ Parker said. ‘But you can be sure of one thing – they’ll be put to good use.’ He smiled. ‘And I’m sure you’ll be glad to hear that I’m heading back to London tomorrow. So now I’ll say farewell until the next time we meet, gentlemen.’ Parker turned and walked out of the hotel and a moment later they heard his car drive off.

  ‘Good riddance to bad rubbish,’ said Geordie. ‘Let’s get a few beers in while we’ve still got the chance.’

  ‘Keep mine on ice,’ Shepherd said. ‘I’ve an errand to run first. Jock, do you want to ride shotgun for me? I don’t want to be shaken down at some roadblock on the way into the city.’ He raised his voice. ‘Farid? You might want to come with us as well, it could well be worth your while.’

  The Lebanese was on his feet in an instant. ‘Moves fast for such a big man, doesn’t he?’ Jock said with a grin.

  ‘Only if there’s money in it,’ said Shepherd.

  They took the battered and bullet-holed Landcruiser that they had commandeered from the SAS base on their first day in Freetown and drove down into the city, past the now familiar landmarks of the crumb
ling art deco State House on Tower Hill, the Pademba Road jail, the abandoned and looted Government Book Store and the American Embassy overlooking the Cotton Tree roundabout, shaded by the huge tree that gave it its name. They drove on across the city, past the derelict City Hall and the grey concrete bowl of the football stadium - a monument to his own vanity built by a former dictator, Siaka Stevens - and reached a once-prosperous district where every shop and office now seemed abandoned. They turned into a side-street and drove in through the iron gates and into the yard of a dingy warehouse building. A guard eyed them suspiciously but before he could challenge them, a dark haired woman came out of the building and smiled in recognition as she saw Shepherd at the wheel.

  She hurried to greet him as he climbed out of the vehicle and he introduced her to the others. ‘This is Laurence Beltran,’ he said, ‘Medicaid International’s regional director, and one of the few foreigners in this country who is here for the benefit of its people and not to steal from them. How’s Abiola, Laurence?’ He turned to Jock. ‘ He’s a boy I met last time I was here,’ he said by way of explanation.

  ‘He’s fine,’ she said, ‘and there is someone else here you may recognise. Baraka!’

  Shepherd’s patrol had rescued the boy from the rebels, along with several other traumatised children, some weeks before. Despite the children’s pleas, the SAS men had no choice other than to leave them to defend themselves. Shepherd had gone to see Laurence to try to persuade her to rescue the children, but given the thousands of other destitute and traumatised children in Sierra Leone, he hadn’t been optimistic about Baraka’s fate. However to Shepherd’s delight, he now saw the boy emerging from the shadows at the back of the yard and breaking into a broad smile as he caught sight of the SAS men. Shepherd waved at the boy and the boy waved back.

  ‘My friends and I have something for you,’ Shepherd said to Laurence. ‘You will need to be discreet because it is, shall we say, an unofficial gift.’ He gestured at the Lebanese merchant. ‘But Farid here will help you with it. It should give you the resources not only to help Abiola and Baraka, but to aid and rescue many other children too.’ He reached into his top pocket and took out a handful of rough diamonds and poured them into her hands. She stared at them in disbelief as tears formed in her eyes. ‘Are these what I think they are?’

  ‘They are, and Farid will make sure that you get a fair price for them, because he knows that if he doesn’t, the SAS will hunt him down wherever in the world he goes and no matter how he tries to hide, we will find him, and we will make him pay. And it won’t be in dollars, Farid, it’ll be in blood.’ He smiled. ‘Isn’t that right, Farid?’

  Farid, whose eyes had been glued to the rough diamonds, gave an involuntary shudder. ‘You have my word that, apart from a modest commission for myself of course - though only enough to cover my time and trouble,’ he said hastily as he saw the look in Shepherd’s eye, ‘I shall give every cent I receive to this beautiful lady.’

  ‘Make sure you do,’ Jock said. ‘Or else.’ He drew his finger across his throat menacingly.

  They said their goodbyes to Laurence and the boys, then dropped Farid in the Lebanese quarter of the city, where he disappeared into a maze of alleys.

  Jock drove back out of the city and along Lumley Beach Road to their hotel. As they got out of the Landcruiser, Jock gave a broad smile. ‘When did you sneak those diamonds out of the bag?’ he asked.

  Shepherd grinned. ‘On the chopper.’

  ‘You did the right thing.’

  ‘I know that.’

  ‘Didn’t keep a few back for yourself and your mates, did you?’

  Shepherd laughed. ‘Sorry, Jock. No.’

  ‘Probably best. Don’t know what I’d do with serious money.’

  ‘Me neither.’

  They walked into the hotel together. ‘Know what, Spider? I would never have taken you for a do-gooder.’

  Shepherd grinned back at him. ‘I didn’t see you objecting to me giving her the diamonds.’

  ‘For the kids,’ said Jock.

  Shepherd nodded. ‘Yeah. For the kids.’

  ‘Well if you’re not going to give me diamonds, I’ll settle for a few whiskies. And correct me if I’m wrong but I’ve got a feeling it’s your round.’

  ‘Funny how it always seems to be your round yesterday and my round today, Jock.’

  The Glaswegian’s smile broadened even further. ‘You’ve still got much to learn, Grasshopper. Watch and learn from the Master, watch and learn.’

  * * *

  Spider Shepherd left the SAS at the end of 2002 and joined an elite police undercover unit. You can read the first of his undercover adventures in Hard Landing, where he goes undercover in a high security prison to unmask a drugs dealer who is killing off witnesses to his crimes. The Spider Shepherd series continues with Soft Target, Cold Kill, Hot Blood, Dead Men, Live Fire, Rough Justice, Fair Game, False Friends and True Colours. You can read more about Stephen Leather’s work at www.stephenleather.com

  Hard Landing is available in the UK for 49p at – http://amzn.to/xxX2YU

  And in the US for less than a dollar at – http://amzn.to/xWg1E7

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