I went out to keep Dex in the loop. ‘Found the boxes, just checking – wait out.’ I ran back inside.
‘You need to have a look at this.’ Red Ken was surrounded by tiny white polystyrene balls. They still streamed from the panel he’d wrenched back from the corner of the nearest crate.
I leant down and did as I was told. A few little white balls still clung to the glimmering sheet of engraved yellow metal inside, but not enough to obscure the familiar moustache and smiling face of Saddam Hussein.
He banged the slat back into place. ‘This is the one we’re going to have. Fuck checking the rest.’
We fed the strapping under the pallet, secured it and worked the hook into the side of the webbing strap.
I ran back out. ‘OK, mate. Gently.’
There was nothing gentle about his reaction. ‘Pay day, pay day!’
The electric motor whined as the winch took the strain. The pallet groaned and jerked, then started to creep across the concrete floor towards the exit. Soon it was gouging its way over the open ground. We kept either side of it to make sure it didn’t tip over. We were just metres from the wall. At this rate we’d be fully loaded and out of here within thirty minutes.
Dex slackened off the cable. We grabbed the hook and moved it to the top of the webbing.
‘OK, mate, take it up.’
All he had to do was lift it over the wall, swing left, and lower.
Nothing happened.
I looked up. Dex was on his knees, leaning down towards us.
‘Not good, chaps. We have headlights moving towards Black.’
Red Ken had already grabbed the cable and hoisted himself up to join him.
I followed Red Ken up onto the cab roof and watched the single set of headlights, maybe two hundred away, career over the wasteground towards us.
Red Ken drew down his weapon and Dex copied.
I gripped Red Ken’s arm. ‘We’ve got no blue lights. It’s just one vehicle. Could be taking a shortcut.’
‘Maybe,’ Dex said. ‘But it’s going to pass really close. Bound to see us.’
‘Skyline!’
I had already jumped but Red Ken needed to drag Dex down.
We stayed in the shadow at the corner of White. I could now hear the rumble of tyres over rough ground. The approaching vehicle was hugging the wall on Red, its headlights throwing us into deeper shadow. The vehicle stopped just short of the corner.
Dex looked ready to lunge. I held him back. ‘We can contain this. Nobody’s got out yet. There’s no doors slamming, no shouting.’
The headlights died.
Red Ken was calm. ‘Dex, go play local. We’ll hold back. Keep whoever it is in the vehicle while we check them out.’
Dex didn’t hang around. Red Ken and I kept a few metres back. I moved away from the wall so we could deploy all three weapons without cutting into each other’s arcs.
An interior light came on at the rear. The vehicle was big, a 4x4. A dark-coloured Yukon, as big as Red Ken’s Suburban. I moved forward, weapon up, both eyes open. Dex orbited round to the rear cab. The wagon’s suspension shifted as a body changed position inside. Dex grabbed the door handle and pulled hard.
‘Don’t hurt me!’ The voice was terrified and female.
I closed on Dex as he covered her with a brown, swirly-patterned nylon fur blanket so she couldn’t see his face or know he wasn’t alone. The rear cab was littered with carrier bags full of clothes and towels, toiletries, packets of food and bottles of water. Whoever this was, the Yukon was her home.
Red Ken worked quietly up front in the glove compartment and under the seats. He found her handbag and pulled out a purse. Our three head-torches bathed the plastic card he produced in a rubber-gloved hand. The Canadian driver’s licence told us she was Sherry Capland.
She had about five hundred dollars’ worth of dirhams in her bag. There were no pictures of kids, just a wedding photo, her in a white veil and him in a tuxedo. She’d had long brown hair back then, permed up. A sob shook the blanket. ‘Please, please, don’t hurt me. Just take what you want.’
Red Ken tapped Dex on the shoulder and gave him the waffle sign with thumb and fingers.
He understood. ‘Shut up!’
Red whispered into Dex’s ear.
‘Where’s your husband?’
‘He’s in prison. He lost his job and-’
Red Ken sliced his index finger across his own throat.
Dex slapped the blanket. ‘Enough!’ He slammed the door on her and we got into a huddle.
‘She’s homeless.’ Red Ken spoke quietly. ‘It’s like I told you, if you get binned from your job and you’ve got debts you can’t cover, you’re fucked. You can’t leave the country. They fling you in prison. That’s why there’s all those wagons at the airport and the planes are full. If her old man’s locked up, that makes her an illegal.’
Dex nodded. ‘But what do we do with her?’
Red Ken turned back to the Yukon and opened the door. ‘Sit up, love. We’re not going to hurt you. It’s OK, so for fuck’s sake shut it, will you? Wrong place, wrong time, that’s all.’
She sat cross-legged with the blanket around her shoulders. She was maybe mid-thirties, but looked older. It’s difficult not to when your cheeks are tear-stained, you’ve got snot running from your nose and your hair’s plastered all over your face.
Dex pulled us back again, out of earshot. ‘We’ve got a problem. She’s seen us now. Why did you do that, Red? How do we keep the job secure?’
‘Tell you what.’ I put a hand on his shoulder. ‘I’ll drive her wagon. We’ll just keep her with us until we fly out.’
Red Ken nodded. ‘Let’s get on with it, then.’
I held out my hand for the keys. ‘I’ll bring the wagon round. You two can get on with the first load.’
I opened the back door. Sherry was curled up on the floor, wanting the world to go away. I couldn’t blame her. One eye peeped out from under her arm, like a child’s. Scared people have to be gripped. They don’t hear what you’re saying. They get more confused and more frightened, not less, and more danger to us and to themselves.
‘Sherry, listen in. Everything will be OK. You’re going to be with us until the morning. Just do what you’re told and you’ll be fine.’
Her bloodshot eyes fixed on mine. She nodded quickly, wanting to please me.
‘But if you try to run away, scream, shout, or do anything we don’t tell you to do, then all bets are off. You understand?’
She wiped snot from her nose and nodded some more.
‘Climb into the seat behind me. Cover yourself with the blanket.’
She scrambled over.
‘Now get in the footwell. Stay down there.’
I went round pulling up all the child locks, slamming and checking the handles wouldn’t open. I heard the electric motor kick in once more.
I got in behind the wheel and swung the wagon round so it paralleled the Tata’s cab. Dex could keep eyes-on while Red Ken and I worked in the building.
I locked the door behind me just as our crate cleared the wall. Dex manoeuvred it to the rear of the flatbed. Red Ken was already over the wall, heading back in to sort the next load.
Dex beamed at me. ‘Only five to go.’
I jumped down into the compound and helped Red Ken rig up the second pallet. ‘She secure?’
‘Yep, Dex has eyes-on.’ I put the hook into the side of the webbing and gave Dex the signal. ‘Red, I reckon we keep her all the way to the airport, yeah?’
‘Got to, so we know she isn’t gobbing off. But I don’t think she’ll be running to the police. She needs to stay underground and wait for that handsome young husband of hers.’
The second crate inched out of the warehouse and onto the sand.
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