Алистер Маклин: Death Train

‘Boat?’

He nodded.

‘Why are you helping us?’

He bent both sets of fingers inwards and interlocked them.

She understood the sign language gesture. Friend. ‘But I thought Hendrique was your friend?’

He shrugged his massive shoulders then rubbed his thumb and forefinger together.

‘You stayed with Hendrique for the money?’ she said with a smile.

He pointed at her, then balled his fist, which she took to represent Graham, and placed his hand on the table. He then reached up his other hand and made a jerking movement, representing the flex being ripped from the light socket. He made the ‘friends’ gesture again with his hands.

She decided against telling him about the helicopter. He was probably closer to Hendrique than anyone else.

Graham and Flaherty returned.

‘How long before the boss gets here?’ she asked.

‘Five, ten minutes,’ Graham replied.

‘Five, ten minutes? I thought he was still in Prato.’

‘So did I, but it seems he arrived in Dubrovnik an hour ago.’

‘I didn’t know that crate was contraband,’ Flaherty said, getting between them. ‘Honest to God I didn’t. You’ve got to believe me.’

‘Weren’t you ever suspicious of the way Werner handled the situation? Didn’t it seem strange to you that he had this obsessive interest in one particular crate?’

‘Well, as I said to your superior–’

‘Partner!’ Sabrina interceded indignantly. ‘How many times must I say it? We’re partners.’

‘Partner. Sorry. Well, Mr Werner told me the crate contained machine parts for a laboratory in Libya and what with all this anti-Gadaffi sentiment doing the rounds he wanted to play down the fact that his company was actually doing business with them. He thought it might have given his opponents some ammunition to use against him. He assured me it was all above board. Who was I to argue? As I said earlier, I always considered Mr Werner to be a good and just man.’

A crewman appeared at the door. ‘Helicopter coming in from the south, sir.’

‘Has an area of the deck been cleared for it to land?’ Flaherty asked.

‘Yes, sir.’

‘You’ll want to go and meet it,’ Flaherty said to Graham.

‘Yeah,’ Graham replied without much enthusiasm.

‘You’ll be fine as long as you cooperate,’ Sabrina said, noticing Flaherty’s dejected look.

‘You can count on my cooperation,’ Flaherty replied.

Milchan, sitting on a wooden box in the corner of the bridge, looked up and smiled sadly at her.

‘We’ll put in a good word for you, I promise,’ she said, returning his smile.

Milchan gave her an indifferent shrug as though he had already resigned himself to the inevitability of a lengthy prison sentence.

Philpott was the first out of the Lynx helicopter after it had landed aft of the bridge. Graham indicated to the pilot not to shut down the engine then he, Philpott and Sabrina moved to the railing at the stern of the ship. Philpott listened silently as they filled him in on the latest developments.

‘So you don’t believe the captain’s involved?’

‘No, sir,’ Sabrina replied.

‘Mike?’

‘I wouldn’t have thought so, sir.’ Graham glanced up at the bridge. ‘How many men have you brought with you?’

‘Five.’

‘That’s enough,’ Graham muttered.

‘Enough for what?’ Philpott replied suspiciously.

‘To handle things here. Sabrina and I want to go back to the warehouse and take a closer look at those AK47s.’

‘You don’t think this Milchan will be any trouble? These five are all on the technical staff, they’re hardly trained to deal with some marauding wrestler.’

‘You won’t have any trouble from him, sir,’ Sabrina said reassuringly.

‘I’ll see you both when the ship docks then,’ Philpott said.

They made their way towards the helicopter.

‘Mike? Sabrina?’ Philpott called out after them.

They turned, their heads ducked low.

‘Well done,’ Philpott said.

They gave him a wave then hauled themselves into the helicopter cabin and Graham closed the door after them.

The helicopter touched down on Wharf Eight and waited just long enough for them to jump out before taking off again and banking away sharply to the left as it headed back towards the Napoli .

They entered the warehouse.

‘I’ll take this section, you take the one nearest the office,’ Graham said.

‘How do we open the crates?’

‘I saw a crowbar by the door as we came in. You’re sure to find something round there.’

She decided to go straight to the office; it seemed the most logical place for storing tools.

She froze on reaching the doorway then slowly removed the Beretta from her webbing belt.

The board had been cleared from the table. In its place was a mug of coffee, still steaming.

Graham was somewhere in the warehouse, unarmed and unsuspecting.

She saw him as she turned away from the table. He was standing in the juncture between the two sections of the L-shaped warehouse. Hendrique was behind him, the shotgun barrel pressed under his chin. As she approached she noticed the deep laceration on the right-hand side of Hendrique’s face, running from the bridge of his nose down across his cheek.

‘That’s far enough,’ Hendrique said when she had come to within fifteen feet of them.

She stopped.

‘I must compliment you on your excellent shooting, Miss Carver. Kyle didn’t stand a chance but, as you can see, I’ll have a reminder of it in the years to come.’

‘It’s over, Hendrique,’ she said. ‘Werner’s dead and the plutonium’s been recovered. Even Milchan’s turned against you.’

‘Milchan?’ Hendrique said contemptuously. ‘You’re welcome to him although I don’t know what use he’ll be to you. He never knew what was in those kegs – how else do you think I got him to babysit them from Lausanne to Trieste? With the amount of radiation he’s been exposed to over the past few days I can’t see him lasting out the month.’

‘You put him in that freight car knowing it would kill him?’

‘Someone had to do it,’ Hendrique replied indifferently. ‘As for the plutonium, I didn’t want anything to do with it anyway but the KGB had other ideas and used a little blackmail to persuade me to see it their way.’

‘What about those AK47’s?’ she asked.

‘I’ve been using Werner Freight for three, four years now as a means of transporting arms around the world. Werner knew nothing about it. It was purely coincidental that he and I should end up working together. I’d been hoping to shift at least part of this shipment.’ He shrugged. ‘Too bad. At least I’ll get away safely.’

‘You’re not going anywhere. Not this time,’ she said, levelling the Beretta at Hendrique’s head.

‘The shotgun is loaded, only I don’t know whether the cartridges survived in the water. Not that I think you’d shoot anyway. Graham’s life isn’t in any danger. I’ll release him unarmed as soon as I’ve put enough distance between myself and the authorities.’

‘Shoot him!’ Graham shouted as Hendrique took his first tentative step backwards.

She wavered, just as she had done on the train. The photograph of Carrie and Mikey came to mind. Carrie with her alluring brown eyes and Mikey with his cheeky, mischievous face. Innocent victims of justice. Then she remembered Graham’s words after he had allowed Hendrique to win the electronic board game on the train. ‘–the one with the stronger willpower always wins. Intimidation invariably leads to defeat–’

She fired.

The bullet struck Hendrique above the right eye. Graham’s arm swept across his chest, knocking the barrel out from under his chin. Hendrique toppled backwards against a row of crates, then slid to the ground, the surprise still mirrored in his sightless eyes.