Shadow Force by Matt Lynn

Author:Matt Lynn [Lynn, Matt]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Headline
Published: 2011-01-06T00:00:00+00:00

Thirty

‘THE QUESTION IS A SIMPLE one,’ said Yasin. ‘Are you going to open those safes for me or not?’

Ollie remained rooted to the spot.

He’d been sitting in the cabin for a couple of hours now. Yasin had left the room, leaving just one armed guard behind to keep a watch on Ollie. He had been given no explanation as to where Yasin had gone, or when he might be coming back, so Ollie just sat and waited. An hour passed and then another. He knew precisely what they were up to. Back in the Blues he’d been through captivity training, it was part of the basic drill for every officer. The techniques varied; you might be tormented with knives, electricity, ropes or water. But one thing was always the same. The secret of torture, he could remember his instructor at Sandhurst telling him, was the same as the secret of Chinese cooking. It was all in the preparation. The torturer would keep his victim waiting, leave him alone with his thoughts, aware that it was in those lonely hours that his will would start to soften, and his resistance break. And then when you started to apply the pain, he’d be ready to talk.

Well, it makes no damned difference to me, thought Ollie. Time is all I’m playing for here. The longer they keep me waiting, the more time Steve has to organise his strike-back.

‘As it happens, I don’t know the codes,’ said Ollie, his tone confident. ‘But even if I did, I wouldn’t tell you.’

He was sitting on a chair, slightly to the left of the three safes. Yasin was sitting directly opposite him at his desk. ‘Do I look like a stupid man?’

Ollie shook his head. ‘It’s not my place to offer opinions.’

‘Maybe not,’ snapped Yasin. ‘But it’s hardly possible that a security guard would be protecting these safes with no way of accessing them. If the ship catches fire, hits rocks, whatever, you have to rescue what’s inside them. So, please don’t treat me like an idiot.’

‘I’m not,’ said Ollie. ‘I’m telling you the truth. I don’t know the codes, but I wouldn’t give them to you if I did, so it makes no difference anyway.’

He glanced through the single porthole. It was four in the morning, and still dark outside. There were pirates patrolling the deck, well-armed and well-disciplined. Ollie hadn’t yet managed to count how many men protected the compound. Thirty at least, he reckoned. For six men to overpower the ship and bring him out alive was going to be a hell of a task, he reflected grimly. Maybe even impossible.

‘So the answer to your question is a simple one,’ he continued. ‘No, I’m not going to open them.’

‘Do you know how we describe pirates in my country?’

Ollie shook his head.

‘In Somalia, the word is badaadinta badah,’ said Yasin. ‘It translates as saviours of the sea.’

‘I’m grateful for the language lesson.’

‘We’re tax collectors and coastguards,’ said Yasin. ‘The world uses our sea lanes, our coast.

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