Tomb of the Lost (81 page)

He silently cursed whoever had sent it and put the phone in his pocket. He stole another peek. The three men were looking his way. Then at an order from the big man they snapped torches from their belts, flicked them on and advanced quickly on his position. Across their chests he now noticed Heckler and Koch MP5 machine guns. The torchlight
’
s came closer. He squeezed himself into a gap between containers and torchlight flashed briefly over him. He went undetected and the two men moved on. He waited until he was sure he was safe before deciding to move. He cautiously took a step forward. The sharp blade of a large knife across his throat stopped him. He couldn
’
t at first see who was holding it. Then the blade was lifting his head up, forcing it up. Had he resisted it would have cut his throat. It was still too dark to see anything. Then the person holding the blade called out loudly in Russian. There was a crackle from a headset and a voice responded also in Russian. The knife was slowly removed once Dennis was covered by the two sub-machine guns. The big Russian moved away and spoke quietly into his headset. Moments later on the ship a door opened and Dennis saw the man in the white suit descending the stairs. He then came along the deck and walked down the gantry. It took him only seconds to cover the distance between them. In the meantime Dennis had quickly been searched. His wallet and mobile phone were taken from his jacket pocket. He looked at the phone.

’
Strange
’

He had put it in the waistband of his trousers. The big Russian put the knife away. He tossed the wallet to the white suited man who so far hadn
’
t spoken. He flipped the wallet open and took out the driving licence and some bank cards. He held the driver
’
s licence between thumb and forefinger and turned it into the glow from the streetlight to read it.

“
White. Thomas David. 16-02-79. London.
”

‘
Thomas White. Tom? That
’
s not my driving licence
’
Dennis was thinking,
’
How did Tom
’
s wallet
…
.?
’
Then he realised. Just before leaving the restaurant Dennis had popped to the toilet. The others had waited for him in the entrance and Natalie had given him his jacket. It had been on the back of his chair.

’
She must have got the jackets mixed up
’

“
Tom White?
”

Dennis had no choice but to go along with it.

“
Yes.
”

The white suited man continued to read the other cards. Dennis decided to try his luck.

“
Might I know your name?
”

The man looked up from the cards for a second. Light was glittering off his spectacles.

“
No,
”
he said abruptly.

Dennis was trying to work out his accent. It was different to the big man
’
s who he was convinced was Russian. This man sounded more like South African.

’
No more like German.
’

“
Oceanic archaeology institute.
”

Dennis nodded. All the while the guns remained trained on him.

“
You are an archaeologist?
”

“
Yes.
”

The man in the white suit leafed through the rest of the wallet. There were some Tunisian dinars and some American dollars. He put the cards back and threw the wallet back to Dennis.

“
This area is off limits. Did you not see the
’
No trespassing
’
signs?
”

“
Forgive me. No.
”

The big Russian handed the German the mobile phone and said something quietly. The German nodded.

“
You should when you are snooping about in other peoples affairs put your phone on silent.
”

“
Thank you. I
’
ll take your advice in future.
”

The white suited man
’
s mood darkened.

“
Do not be smart with me.
”

The German quickly checked the phone and noted that the video and picture files were empty. He checked the message inbox but there was nothing of importance. He then went through the contacts list. There were over one hundred and fifty names and numbers. He snapped the phone shut and threw it back to Dennis.

“
And now may I ask what you were doing here?
”

“
I
’
m a ship spotter,
”

“
A ship spotter?
”
The man in the white suit didn
’
t understand. He looked at the big Russian who shrugged. Dennis looked at him too. He was bald headed, easily six feet seven or eight. 280lbs Dennis guessed at.

“
What is a ship spotter?
”

“
A ship spotter,
”
Dennis repeated,
“
You know. Like a train spotter, an anorak, someone who watches trains and writes the numbers down. Only I do it with ships.
”

“
Well I only hope you got to see what you wanted.
”

“
Not quite. I was thinking perhaps a group picture. You know all of us in front of your vessel.
”

The German advanced two steps closer. Dennis could smell stale coffee on his breath as he spoke.

“
Do not insult my intelligence. From where Danilov comes from you would have already been executed as a spy and I warn you he is very skilled with his knife. Do not let me catch you here again or I might just let him use it.
”

The German nodded his head at his massive bodyguard and jerked his head towards the gates. The Russian, Danilov, shoved Dennis forward roughly.

“
Move.
”

Dennis walked slowly for the gate. An MP5 slammed across his back made him stagger forward. He half turned, mocking them.

“
Thank you I always need help with directions.
”

The only response he got was to be shoved forward again.

“
No talking,
”
Danilov said in his limited English.

They reached the gates the articulated lorry had come through and Dennis was shoved forward again. He turned. The Russian, Danilov, was towering over him.

“
Look I don
’
t know about your boss but I think you and I could be friends. We got off on the wrong foot back there,
”
Dennis said extending his hand. Danilov spat on the hand.

“
I guess not,
”
Dennis said wiping his hand on his trousers.

Danilov drew back his fist and punched the journalist hard in the stomach knocking the wind out of him. Dennis sank to the floor unable to breathe. He reached out and grabbed a handful of Danilov
’
s combat trousers but a well placed knee into his face sent Dennis spinning onto his back. He was coughing as the grinning Russian padlocked the gates and left him.

It was a full two minutes before the journalist felt strong enough to stand. He was still coughing and spat to clear his mouth. He unclenched his fist. In his hand was Danilov
’
s I.D. card that had been attached to his trousers by a chain. Dennis put it into his jacket pocket and, rubbing his abdomen, left as quickly as he could.

“
What the hell has happened to you?
”
Natalie asked startled at Peter Dennis
’
appearance. His right cheek was bruised. Of his ribs he felt sure at least one if not more were possibly broken.

They were on the bridge of the
’
Volante
’
. Hutchinson and his team, Ali and the first mate. Dennis sat gingerly into a chair. His hand holding his side.

“
I walked into a door.
”

“
That was some door,
”
Hutchinson replied.

“
About six feet eight and 300lbs.
”

Natalie went for the first aid kit mounted next to one of the fire extinguishers. She opened it and began looking for something she could use for the scuff marks on Dennis
’
face. She took out some cotton wool and put some antiseptic liquid on it and dabbed the wounds.

“
This might sting a little.
”

The first mate put a mug of steaming coffee down in front of him.

“
Thank you,
”
Dennis said, in between Natalie tending him.

“
Do you need a Doctor or hospital?
”

“
No Jim. I
’
ll be fine.
”

“
As long as you
’
re sure. Perhaps you
’
d care to tell us what happened. I
’
m assuming they caught you spying.
”

Dennis took a sip of the coffee and nodded.

“
They did but not before I got some pictures and a short video.
”

“
Is it any good?
”

“
I haven
’
t looked at it yet.
”

“
How did they catch you? I
’
m guessing they had patrols.
”

“
Machine guns and dogs. I was out of sight when a message came through on my phone. It
’
s my fault I should have put it on silent.
”

Dennis now looked at the message received. It was from Natalie. She was biting her bottom lip.

“
Sorry. I just sent you a message to tell you that Tom had your jacket.
”

“
And got me beat up.
”

“
I didn
’
t know you were going to break into their compound.
”

“
It
’
s all right. I know you didn
’
t. It wasn
’
t one of my better ideas.
”

Dennis undid his shirt so they could see the bruise forming over his ribs.

“
That looks painful.
”

“
A bit.
”

“
I
’
m sorry Peter.
”

Natalie put out a finger and touched the reddening skin. Dennis gritted his teeth.

“
If I can take your phone,
”
Alex said,
“
I
’
ll see if I can get the pictures and video onto a laptop.

Dennis passed his phone over.

“
It
’
s a good job I did have your jacket Tom. Your phone was in the pocket and they checked it. Luckily I was able to hide mine. They also went through your wallet I
’
m sorry to say. I don
’
t think they took anything.
”

Tom checked it. They hadn
’
t. He pulled out the I.D. card.

“
Sergei Danilov.
”

“
I managed to take that from the man who did this.
”

“
That
’
s all it says. Sergei Danilov and then a list of medication and blood group.
”

“
Here is the video,
”
said Alex. He
’
d found a suitable USB lead to fit the little SONY Ericson phone. The playback was grainy. At first in the dark between the containers the 1.3 mega pixel camera had struggled to focus. It left trails from lights as Dennis had moved it about. Then the
’
Wavecrest
’
came into view. They could see that she was modern and much better equipped. The footage of the Lynx helicopter was very good.

“
That chopper definitely looks new,
”
Dennis said.

“
It
’
s also armed with the latest air to air missiles,
”
Tom said pointing to the rockets.

“
Where on earth would they get those,
”
Hutchinson asked,
“
And where would they get such a helicopter? Are they Russian?
”

“
British,
”
Dennis replied,
“
They
’
re built by Westland at Yeovil in Somerset. Lovely part of the country.
”