Читать книгу The Shadow Project - Scott Mariani, Scott Mariani - Страница 20

Ben looked back at the contents of the cases. Each box had a cavity cut out of its foam lining, and inset into each recess was a weapon, brand new and shining under the lights.

‘Naturally, what you see is only a sample,’ Steiner said with an air of indifference. ‘Each team member will be issued his own.’

Ben didn’t reply. He reached down and picked one up. ‘You are not familiar with this type of weapon?’ Steiner asked.

Ben turned the gun over in his hands. It was a double-barrelled device, with bores large enough to accommodate a wine bottle. It was bulky and clumsy in his hands. He knew what it was, and what it was for. A Flash-Ball rubber bullet gun, what riot and raid teams called a ‘non-lethal option’. At close to medium range its hard rubber projectile could deliver a blow roughly equivalent to a punch from a champion boxer. Enough kinetic force to knock a large human being to the floor and incapacitate them without doing any serious damage. Ben could think of a lot of situations where such a weapon would be extremely useful. Home defence in those countries that allowed it, to take down an intruder without having to kill them. Bounty hunters, who needed to soften a tough target and bring them in alive. In those situations, fine. Ideal.

But for the purposes of close protection they were worse than useless.

He put the weapon back in the box and turned to Steiner. ‘No chance,’ he said.

Steiner stared at him again. ‘I beg your pardon?’

‘I said no chance,’ Ben repeated. ‘These—’ He was going to say ‘Mickey Mouse pieces of shit’, but then thought better of it. ‘These weapons are completely unsuitable for our purposes. They’re heavy and clumsy and impossible to conceal, and they’re going to compromise our ability to protect you. They put us at a serious disadvantage in the event of a further kidnap attempt.’

Steiner just stared at him coldly. Dorenkamp was pale and wide-eyed. Across the table, Pete Neville was sitting back in his chair with his arms folded, glaring at him angrily.

‘In short, Ben said, ’they’re useless. I recommend you ditch them and get something more appropriate.’

‘And what exactly is it that you would recommend, Major?’ Steiner asked curtly.

‘In my experience, the Heckler & Koch MP5 machine carbine is a good companion to compact, concealable semiautomatic pistols such as the 9mm Glock, Browning or SIG,’ Ben said. ‘Whatever works.’ He pointed at the Flash-Balls in the cases. ‘These won’t.’

Steiner’s lips tightened. ‘No firearms. That is a contractual condition of your employment. I want you to protect me, but there must be no loss of life. I will neither tolerate bloodshed nor authorise the use of lethal force.’

Ben could see he was resolute. ‘Herr Steiner, these people who are after you aren’t playing. They’re evidently armed and serious.’ He paused, remembering what Dorenkamp had told him about Steiner’s anti-gun stance. ‘I understand your principles, and I admire them. It’s laudable that you want to avoid any kind of violence. Believe me, so do I. That’s what I’m here for. And the best way to avoid conflict is to ensure that we’re as well equipped as, or better equipped than, your enemies.’ Steiner shook his head.

‘Then I’d urge you to think about your family. Putting yourself at risk is one thing, but you also have the emotional interests of your wife and nephew to consider. I’ve seen too many families torn apart by kidnapping.’

Steiner’s face became even harder. ‘We are getting nowhere. Your proposal is out of the question.’ He threw a look at Dorenkamp.

‘The, ah, equipment requirements had already been discussed with Captain Shannon,’ Dorenkamp said weakly. ‘I’m surprised you weren’t notified of that.’

No, Ben thought. I damn well wasn’t. He sighed, knowing that he had no choice but to back down. In normal circumstances, in sane circumstances, if this had been his contract, being forced to use such inappropriate equipment would have been a deal-breaker. He would have found it unacceptable to risk the safety not only of his principal, but of the whole team. And any team leader who agreed to this kind of a deal was a cowboy. Shannon was clearly just agreeing to anything to get his hands on the money.

But Ben wasn’t here to make Shannon look incompetent in front of his employers. He was here to make reparations, not trouble. It was intolerable, but that was the way it was.

He took a deep breath before replying, ‘I apologise. You’re quite right. I was notified. It must have slipped my mind. We’ll make do with the items you’ve supplied.’

Steiner eyed him coolly. ‘Good. Let us move on to the subject of your first assignment. I am due to attend an extremely important meeting at a conference centre outside Lausanne early this afternoon. My presence there is vital, and I have no intention of letting a gang of Nazis prevent me from carrying on my business.’

Ben listened and nodded. It wasn’t a long drive to Lausanne. But far enough to be cautious. ‘I should have a look at the vehicles.’

Steiner shook his head. ‘We are not travelling by road. As team leader, you may travel with myself and Herr Dorenkamp in my personal helicopter. The rest of the team will follow in the second craft as arranged.’

This was just getting worse. Ben knew it was the wrong thing to do, but he had to say something. ‘I’m sorry, but that doesn’t seem entirely secure.’

Dorenkamp was staring at the tabletop with a weary look of resignation.

‘Why not?’ Steiner demanded.

‘Because in my experience it’s bad practice to separate the principal, in this case, you, from most of the team. If anything kicks off—’

But Steiner silenced him with a gesture. ‘I don’t have time to waste on a long road trip. The aircraft will reach the destination within half an hour.’

‘Fine,’ Ben said. ‘Then perhaps you’ll agree to let at least one of my team ride with me in the lead chopper?’

‘Regrettably, that is not possible,’ Dorenkamp cut in. ‘There are only five seats. Pilot, co-pilot, and three passengers.’

‘Then perhaps one of the men could take your place?’ Ben said.

Steiner shook his head impatiently. ‘I cannot allow that. I need my Personal Assistant with me at all times. We will have important matters to discuss in the air, prior to the meeting.’ He paused. ‘We are wasting time here. I had already discussed my schedule with Captain Shannon, who seemed perfectly content with the plans. I am surprised you did not know this either. Or perhaps you did, and this also slipped your mind?’

Shannon again. Ben was silent.

‘You are being paid to protect me, not to organise my business arrangements,’ Steiner added.

‘Then I apologise again,’ Ben replied. He could feel the looks that the other team members were firing at him.

‘Then all is settled,’ Steiner said. He laid his hands on the table, palms down, fingers splayed. Put his weight on them and stood up with a nod. ‘Gentlemen.’ He turned and walked out of the room.

Dorenkamp got up. He looked tense, and there was a sheen of perspiration on his high forehead. ‘Morning coffee will be served in the refectory downstairs,’ he said. ‘If you will follow me. Then at one fifteen we will reassemble at the helipad. My assistant Rolf will provide you with everything you need.’

Including the useless weaponry, Ben thought as he followed Dorenkamp out of the conference room and the rest of the team filed out after him. ‘I’d like to take a look around the grounds,’ he said to the PA. ‘Just to assess security and familiarise myself with the layout.’

Dorenkamp nodded. ‘If you wish. However, I should point out that the grounds are completely secure. We have seen to that.’

They made their way back down the stairs, and Dorenkamp led them along the corridor they’d come through earlier. The music had stopped. Dorenkamp pointed at a door. ‘The refectory is through there. Gentlemen, if you would like to help yourselves to refreshments.’

As the men went into the room, he turned to Ben. ‘May I have a word?’

Ben already knew what he was going to say. Dorenkamp waited until all the others were through the door, then closed it.

‘Privately, I completely agree with the points you made,’ he said quietly, just above a whisper. ‘But Herr Steiner can be a stubborn man, and once he has made up his mind, he will not change it.’

‘So I’d noticed,’ Ben said. ‘I can be like that too.’

Dorenkamp smiled. ‘So I had noticed. But I would beg you: for the love of God, do not antagonise him.’

Ben returned the smile. ‘I’ll try to keep that in mind.’

Dorenkamp was about to reply, when the sound of approaching footsteps behind them made them turn.

A woman was walking up the corridor to meet them, her heels clicking on the polished floor. She was handsome, mid-fifties. Classic looks, slim and elegant, wearing a black dress and a string of pearls. The glossy, shoulder-length, red-gold hair didn’t look dyed. She greeted Dorenkamp with a warm smile. ‘Good morning, Heinrich.’

‘Good morning, Frau Steiner. May I introduce you to Major Hope?’

So this was Silvia Steiner, Ben thought as he shook hands with her. She seemed altogether more approachable than her husband. But then he noticed something a little odd. It was the way she was looking at him, more quizzical than disapproving. It was over in a second, and he wondered what it meant.

‘Have we met before, Major Hope?’ she asked him.

‘Please, call me Ben. And I’m afraid I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure.’

‘The major is standing in for Captain Shannon,’ Dorenkamp explained, ‘who regrettably is unable to join us for a while. An unfortunate incident.’

Silvia Steiner raised her eyebrows in consternation. ‘Oh, dear. Nothing serious, I hope?’

‘He’ll be fine,’ Ben said uncomfortably. ‘Let’s just say he had an inconvenience.’

‘What happened?’

‘It’s a long story.’

Her gaze lingered on him for a few seconds. Ben tried to read her thoughts. Had Shannon told the Steiners what had really happened? He didn’t think so. Not even Shannon could be that unprofessional.

But then the awkward moment passed and Silvia Steiner smiled warmly again. ‘It was a pleasure to meet you.’

‘Likewise,’ Ben said.

‘I’m sure we’ll meet again soon.’ She turned to Dorenkamp. ‘Have you seen Otto around, Heinrich? There was something I wanted to ask him.’

‘I believe he is on the golf course,’ the PA said.

‘Again?’ But her look of exasperation faded quickly. She smiled a last time at Ben, turned and headed back up the corridor, rounded a corner and disappeared from sight.

‘Enjoy your coffee,’ Dorenkamp said, pointing to the refectory door. ‘I will see you later.’

Ben watched him go, thinking he didn’t seem like a bad guy. He had a lot to put up with from Steiner. Then he pushed through the door. The refectory was a large dining hall, the walls panelled with ornate oak. On a side table were stacked plates and cups and a stand with a selection of cakes and pastries. Beside it was a large coffee machine that hissed steam and burbled and spat. The coffee smelled good. Ben grabbed a cup and filled it.

The others were milling around the table and talking in low voices while helping themselves to food. Ben carried his coffee over to the window and stood with his back to them, gazing out at the view.

‘What the fuck?’ said a voice behind him, hostile and challenging.

Ben turned slowly. He’d known who it was, and he’d been right. Pete Neville was standing glaring at him, a coffee in one hand and a Danish pastry in the other. ‘What’s the fucking idea of stirring things up, mate?’ he went on.

Ben gave him a look and said nothing.

‘Watch it, Pete,’ Woodcock called out from across the room. ‘He might try and break your arm.’

‘Like to see him fucking try,’ grunted Morgan.

‘So tell us, mate,’ Neville said. ‘What the fuck you trying to do, get us all the boot?’

Ben looked at him. ‘A tip. If you’re going to come on the tough guy, try not to do it when you’ve got custard all over your chin.’

Neville quickly wiped his chin with the back of his hand.

Ben turned to address them all. ‘Let’s get one thing straight, people. I’m CO here, and you’re going to answer to me and follow my lead.’

The team watched him sullenly.

‘And from now on, Neville,’ Ben said, ‘you keep your mouth shut. If you speak to me, it’s in reply to a direct question. Otherwise I’ll shut it for you. Understood?’ He finished his coffee and put down the empty cup. ‘Now, Neville, you’ve just earned yourself a job. Go and collect the popguns from Rolf. Take them over to our quarters. Check everything’s working and get them ready for this afternoon. You’re responsible for them from now on. Any complaints, mate?’

Neville didn’t say a word.

‘Better,’ Ben said. Then he walked past them all and left the refectory.