Fair Game (30 page)

Ahead of him in the line were two of the men he’d hired for the operation, and there were another four somewhere behind him. They would rendezvous outside the terminal once they’d collected their bags and gone through customs, but until then they acted as if they didn’t know each other.

It took twenty minutes for O’Brien to reach the front of the queue. He handed his Irish passport and landing card to a chubby Kenyan woman with bright red lipstick and wire-framed spectacles. She studied the card, flicked through the passport and examined his photograph, then looked at him. ‘What is the purpose of your visit?’ she asked, a redundant question because O’Brien had already ticked the box that said ‘Tourism’.

He showed no annoyance at the question, though, and he flashed the woman a beaming smile. ‘I’m here to hunt,’ he said. He mimed firing a gun.

‘Big game?’ she asked.

O’Brien’s smile widened. ‘Oh yes,’ he said. ‘The biggest.’

Shepherd drove back to Hereford and arrived home just after ten o’clock at night. Katra was in the kitchen working on a Sudoku puzzle when he walked in. ‘Are you hungry?’ she asked. ‘I made a stew and there’s plenty left. I can do some mashed potatoes.’

‘Sounds great,’ he said, dropping his bag on the floor. ‘When did Liam go to bed?’

‘Not long ago,’ she said. ‘He was on the computer.’

Shepherd took a white box out of his bag, went upstairs and pushed open the door to Liam’s bedroom. His son opened his eyes as the light from the hallway cut across his bed. ‘Dad!’ he said.

‘Hi, Liam,’ said Shepherd. He sat on the edge of the boy’s bed. ‘I just wanted to say good night.’

Liam sat up, rubbing his eyes. ‘Where were you?’ he asked. ‘Still London?’

‘Yeah, the Big Smoke.’

Liam laughed. ‘I don’t think anyone calls it that any more, do they? It’s a hangover from Victorian times, right? When they had smog and stuff.’

‘I know plenty of people who call London the Big Smoke,’ said Shepherd.

‘When are you going to Malaysia?’ asked Liam.

‘Tomorrow,’ said Shepherd. ‘I’ll get the train back to London and fly out from Heathrow.’

‘What’s in Malaysia that’s so important?’

‘A ship. I’m going on board.’

‘Why?’

‘Just to protect it.’

‘Why does a boat need protecting?’ asked Liam.

Shepherd didn’t like lying to his son, but working for MI5 brought with it a new set of rules. As an undercover police officer he was usually able to tell Liam the bare bones of the cases he worked on, and even when he was employed by SOCA he could discuss his work, but MI5 wasn’t called the Secret Service for nothing and there were limits to what he could tell his son. He hadn’t even told Liam that he worked for MI5. Button had explained when he’d joined that it was theoretically acceptable for close relatives to be told who he worked for, but that whenever possible it was best to be circumspect. If Shepherd had told Liam then the boy would have had to have been sworn to secrecy and Shepherd figured that it was a burden best not shared.

‘It’s got a valuable cargo,’ he said, which was fairly close to the truth.

‘What sort of boat is it?’

‘A container ship. And it’s a ship, not a boat.’

‘What’s the difference?’

‘Basically anything that weighs more than twelve tonnes is a ship. Below that it’s a boat.’

‘How do you know that?’

‘I studied hard at school,’ said Shepherd. ‘Speaking of which, how’s the homework going?’

‘All done,’ said Liam.

‘And everything’s going well at school?’

‘Sure.’

‘When’s the next PTA meeting?’

‘They haven’t said yet.’

‘I don’t want to miss it.’

Liam sighed. ‘Dad, it’s been years since you went to a PTA meeting.’

‘Two years ago.’

Liam shook his head. ‘No, Dad. Two years ago you were in Northern Ireland, and last year you were in London. Three years ago I don’t know where you were but you were too busy.’

‘I was in the school last year to talk to Miss Claire, your teacher.’

‘That was different, Dad. That wasn’t a PTA meeting.’ There was a glass of water on his bedside table and Liam reached over for it. He saw the white box in Shepherd’s hand. ‘What’s that?’

Shepherd grinned and held out the box. Liam put down his glass of water. ‘Is that what I think it is?’ he said.

‘I don’t know, what do you think it is?’

‘An iPad? Did you get me an iPad?’

‘Nah, I found the box, I put your new dictionary in it.’

Liam’s face fell but then he grinned as he realised that his father was joking. He opened the box and took out a brand-new iPad. ‘Oh my God,’ he said. ‘I’m the first in my class to get an iPad. I can’t believe it.’

‘Yeah, but no taking it to school,’ said Shepherd. ‘That’s a valuable piece of kit. I don’t want someone taking it off you.’

Liam hugged it to his chest. ‘I’ll guard it with my life.’

Shepherd ruffled his hair. ‘There’s no need to go to extremes,’ he said. ‘And no playing with it now. You’ve got school tomorrow.’

‘Can I at least switch it on?’

Shepherd laughed as he realised that he should have waited until morning before giving him the present. ‘OK. But half an hour and then sleep.’

‘Thanks, Dad,’ said Liam. ‘You’re amazing.’

‘Yeah,’ said Shepherd as he stood up. ‘That’s what they tell me.’

Shepherd stayed up late as he studied the information on the thumb drive that Button had given him. Katra had gone to bed soon after he got back and he ate his chicken stew in the kitchen in front of his laptop.

The ship was huge. Built by the Daewoo shipbuilding company in South Korea, it had been delivered in 2008. It was a shade under 350 metres long and 45 metres wide and weighed more than 130,000 tonnes. The engine had been built by Hyundai-Man and was capable of almost a hundred thousand horsepower, and was fitted with a 4,000-horsepower bow thruster allowing the ship to be moved sideways when in port.

The bulk of the
Athena
was given over to container storage, with space for 11,040 TEUs. Shepherd tried to visualise that many of the massive containers in one place but he couldn’t do it. But he was starting to realise how valuable a fully loaded ship would be. The vessel alone would have cost close to one hundred and fifty million dollars, and if each container held just five thousand dollars’ worth of goods then the cargo would be worth another fifty-five million dollars. And that would be a conservative estimate – each TEU was equivalent to more than 1,500 cubic feet and could be packed with all sorts of valuable goods or raw materials. But even using two hundred million dollars as a benchmark, a five-million-dollar ransom was a bargain, and that was even before the lives of the crew were taken into account.

There was a full schematic of the ship showing all the different levels, from the bridge at the top to the engine room at the bottom. Shepherd studied every inch of the vessel but couldn’t find a panic room.

The bridge ran the full width of the vessel with huge windows providing all-round visibility and exterior sections port and starboard each with a set of duplicate controls allowing the master to manoeuvre the vessel from either side if necessary.

Below the bridge was G-Deck, where the captain and chief engineer had their cabins and offices. Then there was F-deck with cabins for the chief officer, the second engineer, and any passengers who were being carried on board, and the owner’s cabin in case one of the company bosses decided to visit the ship.

On E-Deck were the bulk of the officer cabins, with the crew cabins just below them on D-Deck, along with a gymnasium, swimming pool and sauna.

Cabins for the crew were also on C-Deck, with the ship’s mess rooms, galley and pantry on B-Deck.

A-Deck was the ship’s hospital and laundry and the main food storage areas, with a fish room, meat room, vegetable room and drinks storage area able to hold enough provisions to feed the officers and crew for a year.

The Upper Deck was the main working area with various storerooms and workshops and below it was the vast engine room, four floors deep.

The entire structure was the size of a small hotel and serviced with a lift that ran between the floors. Shepherd’s trick memory effortlessly filed away the floor plans.

There was also a list of the officers and crew on board, including their personnel files and photographs. The captain was Polish, as were all the officers except for an officer cadet who was Slovenian. The crew were without exception Filipinos.

There were twenty-two men on board – the captain, the chief officer, a second and third officer, a chief engineer, a second and third engineer, an electrician, a bosun, a deck fitter, five seamen, three engine-room workers, a cook, a messman and two cadets, one of whom was an engineer. It seemed a small number of men considering the size of the vessel, and Shepherd doubted that they would be thrilled to hear that a company man was on board who might want to downsize them even further.

Button had included several PDF files on seamanship and shipping and he skimmed them, knowing that the more information he had the easier it would be to pass himself off as an employee of the shipping company. Button’s choice of legend had been a good one because a human resources executive would be an outsider and no one would want to get too close to him, but at the same time it would give him an excuse to wander around the vessel and to ask questions.

He finished reading the files on the thumb drive at just before two o’clock in the morning, then he went upstairs, showered and slept.

Liam was already in the kitchen eating cheesy scrambled eggs and toast and drinking orange juice when Shepherd went downstairs the following morning. Katra made him a cup of coffee as he poured cornflakes into a bowl and added milk. ‘I’ll drive Liam to school, and then can you take me to the station,’ Shepherd said to Katra. ‘I’ll get the train to London.’

‘When will you be back?’ asked Katra.

‘Hopefully not too long, a couple of weeks maybe. It’s open ended.’

Liam sighed theatrically but didn’t say anything.

Shepherd finished his coffee and cereal and nodded at Liam. ‘Ready?’

Liam picked up his school bag and walked with Shepherd to the black BMW SUV. ‘A couple of weeks?’ he groaned as he climbed in.

‘It’s a ship,’ said Shepherd. ‘They move slowly.’

Liam fastened his seat belt. ‘Did you do anything about boarding school?’

‘Yeah, I thought about it,’ said Shepherd, fastening his belt and starting the engine. ‘I’m starting to think that it’s not a bad idea. I’ve looked at a few websites already. Are you sure that’s what you want?’

‘Yeah, I think so,’ said Liam. ‘There’s no point in me being at home all the time if there’s only Katra there. At least if I was boarding I could hang out with friends and stuff.’

‘I’ll talk to a few schools, get some brochures,’ said Shepherd. ‘We can go and look at a few when I get back. And if you see somewhere you like and the fees aren’t too extortionate, you can give it a go.’

‘That’d be great, Dad, thanks.’

‘Hopefully we’ll be able to find somewhere not too far away so that when I am back I can drive over or you can come back for weekends.’ He drove away from the house.

‘Dad, what about Katra?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘If I go to boarding school, you won’t need an au pair, will you? She won’t have to look after me.’

‘We’ll still need someone to take care of the house,’ said Shepherd.

‘I don’t want you to send her back to Slovenia.’

Shepherd laughed. ‘No one’s going to send her anywhere,’ he said. ‘Even if you do go to boarding school you’ll still be home at half-term and holidays and if it’s close to Hereford then you’ll be back at weekends as well. And don’t forget that Katra does all sorts of other things around the house, not least the ironing. Because believe me, son-of-mine, I am not going to start ironing my own shirts.’

‘Good,’ said Liam.

‘You’d miss her, wouldn’t you?’

‘Wouldn’t you?’

Shepherd nodded. ‘Of course.’

‘So let’s not lose her. OK?’

‘Deal,’ said Shepherd.

He dropped Liam outside the school gates, then drove back to his house and spent the next half an hour packing a kitbag. He hadn’t been on a ship for any length of time before but he knew that if he forgot anything he wouldn’t be able to pop down to the shops. He put a large can of shaving foam and two disposable razors into his washbag along with a bottle of shampoo. According to the crew list there wasn’t a doctor on board so he added a bottle of aspirin and some antibiotic tablets. It wasn’t going to be a holiday but there wouldn’t be any television at sea so he put half a dozen paperbacks into his kitbag, including the new John Grisham and Stephen King and a couple of Andy McNabs that he’d had by his bed for the past three months but never had time to read. He kept his clothes simple – half a dozen polo shirts, a couple of sweatshirts and two pairs of jeans, plus some gym clothes and a pair of trainers. Shepherd preferred to run in boots with a heavy rucksack on his back but he didn’t see that happening on board a container ship, no matter how big it was.

Katra was waiting for him in the kitchen. ‘I’m hoping I won’t be away too long, but if I’m not back for the PTA meeting, can you go in my place?’

‘Of course,’ said Katra. ‘You know, last time I went they thought I was his mum?’

‘That’s crazy,’ said Shepherd. ‘You’re not that much older than him.’

‘Dan, I’m twenty-six.’

‘OK, so you’re twice his age, but you’re still not old enough to be his mum. And you don’t look twenty-six.’

She grinned and curtsied. ‘Thank you, kind sir.’

‘At this point you’re supposed to tell me that I don’t look thirty-eight.’

She narrowed her eyes as she scrutinised his face. ‘No, you look thirty-eight,’ she said.

‘That would be the famous Slovenian bluntness,’ he said.

Her jaw dropped and she put her hand up to cover her mouth. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I was supposed to say you looked younger, right? I am so stupid.’

Shepherd laughed. ‘No, honesty is the best policy,’ he said, ‘especially when people are fishing for compliments.’