

### EXPLOSIVE VOYAGE

### by

### RICHARD F JONES

To my wife Meg and our friends Ken and Dee, whose tireless efforts made the publication of this book possible. And Derek Hayford whose dream inspired the story.

### SMASHWORDS EDITION

© 2013 Richard F Jones. All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this book may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electrical, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorised, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

### Smashwords Edition License Notes

The ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author's work.

ISBN: 978-1-291-56832-5

### To avoid any confusion I append below pen pictures of the central characters in this book

Charles Meredith is a millionaire who made his fortune in telecommunications. His wife Alicia is a glamorous blonde woman whose family background is horses. Charles is the owner of the yacht 'Miranda', named after his daughter, on which the voyage takes place. He owns expensive property in the South of England and Hong Kong.

Billy Tennant is tall, with film star looks that attract women. His current wife, Karen, is his second. None of the others know exactly what Billy does to earn his living. It could loosely be described as import/export. He has a plush office complex in Milton Keynes and owns many investment properties.

Robert Shaw had been a trader of Financial Futures in London. His annual bonuses were legendary and ran into millions. His wife's name is Dorothy.

Lawrence Firmin is an architect, married to Jennifer. Many of the city centres around Britain are dotted with buildings he has designed.

Damien Smith used to own garages and car showrooms around London and the South of England. He has a blonde, nubile young wife called Angelina, who used to be a fashion model.

Justin Leadbetter made his money in pop music, fashion boutiques, radio stations and web sites. His wife's name is Jennifer.

### EXPLOSIVE VOYAGE

### PROLOGUE

'What the hell's that?!' Damien shouted. They all turned to look. Through the gloom, about sixty metres away, riding one of the massive waves, was another vessel, part sail, part motorised. A mast on the stern displayed a Somalian flag.

'Oh bloody hell,' Justin said.

'Pirates?' Billy questioned.

'Could be,' Zachary responded.

Nathaniel grabbed the binoculars. 'There's a big whaling gun on the foredeck,' he said, then handed the bins to his father.

'They're a long way from home,' Zachary responded, as he fiddled with the focusing.

'They'll reckon there's a good chance, in this weather, of catching out a few unsuspecting travellers, blown off course like us,'Nathaniel said.

'What the hell do we do now?' Damien shouted.

'We could jump overboard and try to swim for it, but I don't recommend it,' Nathaniel replied with a snarl.

Zachary said, 'If they are pirates they may not be interested in us. We don't exactly look like rich pickings.'

'Let's hope you're right,' Billy responded.

They could see the name 'Sara' in bold letters on the side of the other vessel's foredeck.

'She's coming this way,' Nathaniel said next.

'Oh Lord,' Damien responded.

'Just keep calm,' Zachary said. 'There's no way they could board us in this sea.'

Very slowly, the Sara closed in on the Addela at a forty five degree angle. Gradually she caught them up and then cruised parallel to them at a distance. Both boats continued to roll precariously in the incessant waves.

'Go away you bastards,' Billy shouted out and shook his fist. Nathaniel looked at him disdainfully.

Then the cockpit door of Sara opened and out stepped a tall, thin, dark skinned man, wearing a yellow oilskin top. He was attached to a lifeline. From inside someone passed him a rifle.

'What the bloody hell now?' Billy said. His question was answered almost instantly. The man pointed what appeared to be an AKM assault rifle in the air, aimed it over the top of the Addela, and fired off two rounds.

'Christ almighty!!' Damien exclaimed as he subconsciously ducked his head. 'They're going to kill us. Have we got any guns?'

* * * * *

The recent history of Somalian pirates goes back to the early part of the twenty first century. Many of them are ex-fishermen who claim they have been unable make a living because of illegal fishing and the dumping of toxic waste in their coastal waters by foreign vessels. They maintain they have no national coastguard and therefore have to take on this role themselves. They say any ransom money received is used to renovate their rapidly degenerating coastal towns, and provide water, electricity, education and alternative work facilities for the local inhabitants. While some of this is true, it also a fact that massive crime syndicates have flourished there as a result of pirating. There are many instances of dollar billionaires, building and living in Hollywood style mansions out of the proceeds. Providing the armaments and weapons associated with the trade has also become a major industry along the coast.

* * * * *

My work as an MI6 agent brought me into this story about a third of the way along. There is however, a thread running through that relates to my childhood.

As a youngster I was often taken to the home of one of my eccentric distant aunts. Vividly I remember it as a rambling, nineteenth century country mansion, set in endless acres of parkland. When we visited, my brother, my sister and I were all allowed to play with freedom within its vast boundaries. We swam in the lake, scrambled up the steep slopes and foraged amongst the trees and gardens, searching for the secrets of life. There were deer in the woods, swans on the lake, sheep and cattle in the parkland and donkeys, goats and horses in separate enclosures around the farm.

My aunt, who we only knew as Aunt Beth, was a dowager something or other; I don't remember her exact title. To us kids she appeared to be very wealthy with many servants and farm employees, constantly at her beck and call. She always wore beautiful clothes and her hair was immaculately coiffured. Years later I found out that she wasn't wealthy at all. Her husband, Lord whatever his name was, had died a few years before and the estate was virtually bankrupt.

What I remember most about my visits was Aunt Beth's magnificent grey stallion. 'You must come and see Rock, he's in top form,' she used to say almost as soon as we arrived. 'He's a Grullo stallion you know,' she would always add with a sparkle in her eyes. To us kids that made him sound very famous and important, although what it actually meant was a complete mystery. All I remember was that he was the most magnificent horse I had ever seen, he looked enormous. What caught my eye though was the grace and athleticism of his muscular grey body. Aunt Beth used to be able get him to rise up on his back legs, by twirling her arm in the air. His front feet would kick out and he'd whinny loudly.

Later in life I discovered that the word Grullo refers to the colour of the horse not an actual breed. It originates from the Spanish word 'grulla', which refers to a slate-grey crane. In America there is a breed known as Quarter Horses, which are sometimes called Grulla or Grullo. They are low slung, stocky animals and, in the early days of the west, cattle ranchers and drovers used them. The way to tell a Grullo is not only the existence of a grey or a tan grey body, but also it's markings, which include a dark face, cobwebbing around the eyes, dark mottling on the body, dark ear tips and tiger striping on the legs. Rock however, was completely grey and that's what made him stand out in my memory.

Little did I know then that many, many years later such a horse would play a prominent role in these proceedings.

### CHAPTER ONE

Before I start to relate this tale I should stress that I know nothing about boats, yachts or sailing ships of any description, being a complete layman in that context. All the details I describe in this story about any form of boat have been passed on to me by the main participants.

Six young men, friends while studying at Bristol University, had since all become very wealthy. All of them were married; two of them twice. They all had grown-up children and lived in expensive homes in the South of England. They were not close friendships, but over the years, since University, they'd kept in touch, mostly by phone, or e-mail. Occasionally there was a weekend soiree get-together at one of their costly residences. Then, wine, champagne, caviar, gossip, and more particularly the bragging rites would flow. In time jealousy crept in and the relationship cracks began to show. One wife was more beautiful; somebody's working life was easier; someone's kids were brighter at school. Flashy expensive motor cars were another bone of contention. You know, the usual things wealthy middle class people niggle about.

By the time they reached their late forties each one of them had made enough money to retire on. Their businesses had been sold for cash and all of them had taken a back seat in their particular empire. So, to some extent, time was on their hands. It was at one of their weekend get-togethers that the idea for their adventure was hatched.

'You know I'd love to sail the yacht down to Hong Kong,' Charles Meredith said to the five other men who were gathered in a group, clutching iced drinks, around the swimming pool of his vast Hampshire home. Sunlight glinted on the rippling water in front of them, where five of their offspring were involved in a noisy, competitive game of water polo. Alicia, Dorothy, Demelza and Jennifer, four of their wives, were sat on the other side of the terrace laughing at the kids antics. Angelina and Karen were inside, in the kitchen, exchanging vicious gossip.

'I spent all that money on the damn thing and I've never sailed it anywhere exciting or exotic,' Charles added, referring again to the yacht. He'd made his particular pile in telecoms. Two years back he'd sold out to BT.

'Would she get that far,' Billy Tennant responded about Hong Kong. Billy was tall and dark-haired with film star looks and a permanent suntan. None of the others were actually sure how Billy had made his money. He was self-employed, with a flash office, situated in a business complex at Milton Keynes. That was for sure. There were four permanent staff, but a lot of other people appeared to pass through that building who nobody knew much about. For tax purposes Billy's business was classed as Import and Export. He also owned his own Cessna aircraft.

'She's designed to sail anywhere in the world,' Charles replied to Billy's question about his seventy foot yacht, 'Miranda', named after his eldest daughter.

'But could you sail it around the world,' Billy pursued, while rotating the remains of his gin and tonic around in the bottom of the glass.

'Oh yes. I've got all the certificates, navigation everything. Never used them in real anger though, except to sail down to the Med. Never had the time before,' Charles paused, then added, 'till now.'

'But wouldn't you need a proper crew to go as far as Hong Kong?' Billy said.

'That's true,' Charles replied.

'Could we all crew it for you?' Robert cut in. Robert Shore had been a trader of financial futures in the City of London. His annual bonuses were legendary and ran into millions. He was a short rotund man, with greying hair and dark brown eyes that flashed around a room like two car spotlights.

And so the seed was sown.

* * * * *

The original plan was to devote three months to the voyage. Charles, who owned a house in Hong Kong wanted to stay on there afterwards to explore some business opportunities. Billy, Damien Smith and Justin Leadbetter decided that they wanted to fly back to the UK after they'd spent a short period of recuperation on the island. Damien used to own a chain of Ford garages around London. Justin had worked in anything and everything. He'd begun as a pop music promoter, dabbled in fashion stores and web sites, as well as radio stations and property. The other two members of the crew, Lawrence Firmin and Robert Shore would sail back with Charles on the Miranda, or at least that was the original plan. Lawrence had made his money as an architect. Many city centres throughout Britain were littered with examples of his work. Other members of the immediate families had agreed to help crew with various stages of the journey home.

For five months before they embarked on the voyage, the six men spent their weekends on the Miranda, learning the aspects of crewing a sailing yacht. She was docked at Falmouth and they used the Admiral's Inn, near the harbour, as a base. A professional yacht skipper was employed to help with the training. The Miranda was seventy feet long with a draft of nine feet. She'd cost the best part of a million quid. There were eight berths, in five separate cabins, all with en-suite. The joinery was in light American oak. Pushing buttons could set the mainsail. The Hood rollaway main was hydraulically driven. The outhaul electrically controlled, as are the winches. Most of the gear could be set from the cockpit, which was large and comfortable. The lounge was spacious with panoramic views. The master suite had a Queen size berth with settee. Mostly, during training they sailed in the Channel, but before they finished the occasional trip to France was ventured to test their sea going ability. Robert and Lawrence also attended evening classes to learn the rudiments of seamanship and basic navigation. The other three were not quite so diligent but they did involve themselves enthusiastically at the weekends.

So, by the time they were ready to sail they had all had acquired a limited amount of skill in the rudiments of sailing. Their plan was to sail eastward through the Med to the Suez Canal and then across the Indian Ocean to Hong Kong. Their ladies would fly out to join them for a stop somewhere in the Eastern Med, and again when they reached their destination at Hong Kong. I repeat, money was not a problem for any of them. The boat was overhauled, refitted to modernise the navigation facilities and loaded to the rafters with provisions. They planned a first stop at Gibraltar to restock.

Their embarkation date was set for the second week in May. There were last minute panics, minor medical problems, and more than the odd tantrum or disagreement, but by the twelfth of May they were ready to go. Their six wives and assorted children watched and waved as the Miranda drifted slowly away from the Discovery Quay at Falmouth harbour, around Pendennis Castle, and out into the channel.

### CHAPTER TWO

Despite all the modern labour saving equipment, it was a busy and tiring first few days on board the Miranda. Their practice outings hadn't really prepared them for the Bay of Biscay with a gale up. By the end of each four hour shift every one of them was exhausted. They worked in groups of three. Charles or one of the other two, who had some navigation training, would always be on each watch, although they all took turns at the helm.

For the most part they got along. They were too active to do much else. Male bickering and one-upmanship was of course prevalent. Most of it though was the sort of banter any group of blokes would indulge in.

During those early days though Charles did spot that Billy, Justin and Damien often went into a private huddle together. It was nothing really tangible. To begin with he wondered perhaps if over the years they had just become closer pals. Billy and Damien also worked on the same shift together and shared the same cabin. But he didn't want any cliques forming. Charles knew, on a boat like his, that you had to work as a team. The more he saw however, the more he convinced himself that something might be going on. When they were in one of their huddles, they never laughed or joked, as they did the rest of the time. And occasionally, one of them would look across at the rest of the crew to see if they were listening in. If somebody came near they'd curtail their conversation.

Throughout those first few days the weather in the Bay was unpleasant. On deck all of them wore lifelines. The boat was big enough to cope with the condition, but each of them showed their inexperience. All of them, except for Charles were seasick. Gradually though, in varying degrees, they began to acquire the traits of mariners.

One night, in the dark early hours, Charles was on watch with Lawrence, watching rain filled clouds scudding across the sky. 'Have you noticed anything about Billy, Damien and Justin?' he said quietly to Lawrence. Lawrence possessed a tall stocky body, a large head, blue eyes and a shock of thick, white hair.

Lawrence turned to look at him. 'They're all beginning to smell,' he replied, 'but then again I expect I am as well.'

Charles chuckled. 'No not that. Have you noticed that they often go into a huddle together over some private matter.'

'Can't say I have. Does it bother you? They're all a few years younger than us remember. Maybe it's a generation thing? They're probably talking about sex.'

Charles chuckled again. 'I expect you're right. But would you keep an eye on it for me? I know we're all old mates, but apart from you, I suppose I don't know any of the others that well. On a voyage like this a thousand things can go wrong.'

'I'll do that for you Charles,' Lawrence said. 'Anyway how is your sex life?'

'Oh for God's sake don't let's go into that.'

* * * * *

By the time they approached Gibraltar their days had developed into a pattern of work on watch, and then rest. The gales had tested them. Charles noticed as they got closer to Gib that there were more huddled conversations between the three younger ones; and they spent an increasing amount of time on their individual mobile phones.

'Have you three got a secret you can share with the rest of us?' he asked when his patience finally ran out. They were all together in the saloon. The faces of the three instantly looked sharply back at him.

Damien replied, 'I'm sorry Charles. It's nothing that secretive. The three of us agreed to buy our wives expensive presents to compensate for our absence. Gib is the cheapest place to pick them up.'

Charles nodded in response, but he wasn't convinced. He mentioned it to Lawrence again when they were alone. 'There you are, I told you it was about sex,' Lawrence replied jokingly.

They were all excited about entering Gibraltar. It's a magical town with a great maritime history and a massive dockyard. The Miranda drew admiring glances as she entered the harbour. Spectators gathered on the quayside and watched as she came alongside. For days Charles had nagged them about the docking procedure. This was a class boat and he knew the onlookers would be taking note. Fortunately they'd practiced the routine repeatedly at Falmouth and to his pleasure they managed it without a hitch.

It was mid-morning by the time they tied up. Charles went off immediately to see the harbourmaster and to arrange fresh supplies. Afterwards he went up to town. The three younger ones were also anxious to get ashore, so Lawrence and Robert agreed to remain on board as security watch. The Miranda would present an expensive target for potential thieves. Through the window of the harbourmaster's office, Charles spotted Billy, Damien and Justin hurrying across the quay.

'I'm still worried about those three,' he said to Lawrence and Robert when he got back to the boat. For Robert's benefit he reiterated his suspicions.

'I think he's becoming paranoid,' Lawrence interjected.

Robert looked puzzled. 'I don't know Lawrence,' he replied, 'I've been thinking the same thing myself, just didn't want to say anything in case I looked foolish. We haven't exactly been close buddies with them all these years and I don't think I'd trust Billy or Damien with my life savings or my wife for that matter.'

Lawrence chuckled, Charles nodded his head, and they all agreed to keep a closer watch on the matter.

It was late in the afternoon when the younger ones arrived back on board. They'd lunched in town, and according to them, had spent the rest of the time 'shopping'. Each of them was conspicuously clutching onto a well wrapped parcel. There were jokey comments about how much money it had all cost, but in response to enquiries there was no mention about the nature of the gifts. Robert, Charles and Lawrence just looked at each other. That evening they went out for a meal leaving the others on board to security watch.

'I may be mistaken, but I'm beginning to smell a rat,' Charles said as they settled into a reasonable Chardonnay in a town centre restaurant. 'Those parcels worry me. Why wouldn't they tell us what they'd bought?'

'It could still have something to do with sex,' Lawrence responded. 'These guys nowadays buy all sorts of things for their women folk. It could be sex toys or slinky underwear. Would you own up to that?' The other two laughed.

'I wouldn't know what to get,' Charles responded with a chuckle. 'I'm still worried about it though.'

'We'll keep an eye out,' Robert said while sipping at his wine. 'Don't worry too much Charles, up to now we've all got along quite well. Much better than I thought actually. It's been a long time since we've worked with these guys. I did wonder if we'd get this far without a bust up. To me it seems they all work hard, and I don't think they've ever challenged any of your instructions.'

'No, you're quite right,' Charles said. 'Perhaps I'm being too edgy. This trip has been on my mind for a long time. I just want to make sure it all goes off well.'

* * * * *

Next morning they were up early, organising their departure. The brief stop at Gibraltar had recharged their physical batteries. Gibraltar is a mix of African, British and Spanish and the cosmopolitan element had provided them with the desire for more adventure.

It had been arranged that the girls would fly down to Crete, their next stop on the voyage, to join up with them there for a few nights. Soon after leaving Gibraltar the weather improved. Further into the Med they were able to stop sailing for most of the hours of darkness, which meant they had more opportunities to rest. Continuous sailing is very tiring and Hong Kong was still a very long way away.

### CHAPTER THREE

Unknown to the men on board the Miranda, their wives back in England were about to become involved in their own particular trauma. A matter that had been simmering for some time suddenly reared its ugly head. Storm cones were about to be set out for Billy Tennant.

For some time Billy had been involved in a passionate affair with Damien's glamorous wife, Angelina; a fashion model before marriage, who still possessed all the required bodily attributes. Skin like honey, blonde hair, high cheekbones, rounded ruby lips, a figure of hourglass proportions and long slender legs. 'Every schoolboys dream,' Billy used to say. In fact for quite a few years Billy used to dream of nothing but Angelina. When Damien first went out with her he was instantly jealous. When they got married, Billy was beside himself with pain. But throughout his life Billy had been a man who, by hook or crook, eventually got what he wanted. With Angelina he bided his time. He and his first wife Susan were married during the same year as Damien and Angelina and during those early times the four of them became good friends. Whenever they met Billy would always pay Angelina compliments. He'd remark on a new hairstyle; specifically mention a revealing dress and eulogise on the figure contained therein. When their get-togethers were near her birthday, or some other anniversary, he'd always bring her flowers. Every time when they met up he'd maintain a chirpy nature, but inside he remained positively burning with passion.

The years ticked by. Angelina had children; a boy and a girl. Billy had various affairs with other women, including one with his current wife Karen, which resulted in his divorce from Susan. Life went on. Billy had more affairs. But in time, and once her children had ceased to be babies, Angelina became bored with life, and to a certain extent with Damien. She'd always been a woman who needed lots of new exciting things. Damien could afford to give her many of them, but he couldn't give her the moon.

Billy however could. As a result of his various sexual dalliances he'd become a consummate lover. His ability to satisfy women was almost legendary, even amongst his friends. And of course Angelina got to hear about it, or perhaps Billy made sure she got to hear about it. Anyway, Billy picked his moment with Angelina. It seemed she and Damien had been involved in a domestic bust up, which resulted in her storming out of their house to stay with her sister for a week. Billy learnt about it when the two of them failed to turn up for one of their pre-arranged soiree weekend get-togethers. Early in the following week Billy telephoned Angelina offering to take her out to lunch and provide 'a shoulder to cry on', as he'd put it.

Over an expensive meal, at a chic Italian restaurant, she poured her heart out about Damien's 'awkwardness'. Near to the restaurant, in the centre of town, Billy owned a half million pound penthouse. The accommodation was ideal for his affairs. A giant lounge, a mammoth bedroom with a queen-size bed, bathroom with jacuzzi, sunken bath and tanning sunbed were all included. And Karen rarely went there, preferring London for her shopping expeditions.

At the end of their luncheon date, Billy suggested coffee at his apartment. And of course they ended up in bed together. For more than an hour, he really did make Angelina believe that the moon was indeed blue. They became regular lovers. Again though, Billy was very careful with her. For many weeks he didn't ask anything of Angelina. His initial aim being only to satisfy her wanton desires. Some time passed before he asked her to perform anything on him. Gradually though, with care and patience he schooled her in his unseemly ways until she became his unquestioning mistress.

The associated problem materialised after Billy had set sail on the Miranda. Before leaving England he'd been involved in another property deal. Unfortunately the papers relating to the matter, which his solicitor urgently needed, were locked in the wall safe at the apartment. During one of their mobile telephone conversations, from the Miranda, Billy asked Karen to visit the apartment and deliver the papers to the solicitor.

As well as being a serial adulterer, Billy liked to indulge himself in bouts of voyeurism with his conquests. Over his queen-sized bed, hidden in the slats of the air conditioning outlet, was a wide angled video camera which he could start from a switch on the bedside table. At a later date Billy would then amuse himself with playbacks of the footage. When instructing Karen to go to the safe, he had totally forgotten that video tapes of him and Angelina cavorting around on the big wide bed were locked in there as well. When Karen got home, she played them back on her video player, then hit the roof.

* * * * *

The six men on board the Miranda were oblivious to the drama brewing at home. They were entering the warmer waters between Sicily and Malta. The days were sun drenched and for the first time on the voyage they completely relaxed in each other's company. At night they could anchor in one of the adjacent little bays, then take the small boat and swim in warm Mediterranean water. Evening swimming, good food and wine helped the conviviality. Doubts about the parcels were pushed well to the back of everybody's mind.

Heraklion, on the north side of Crete was their next port of call. All of them were looking forward to the visit by their wives. Billy was particularly enlivened by the thought of seeing Angelina. Locked up with continuous male company for days on end didn't inspire him much. Five expensive double rooms had been booked at the luxury Hotel Megaron near the harbour. Charles and Alicia planned to stay on board the Miranda as security watch. As Charles said, 'the main cabin of the Miranda is better than anything most hotels can offer.'

None of them however, were aware of the time bombs waiting to explode ahead.

* * * * *

Despite the venom brewing up inside her Karen hadn't mentioned anything about the video tapes to any of the other girls. When they all met up at Gatwick Airport her immediate urge had been to physically gouge out Angelina's eyes. The sight of the woman made her want to vomit, but somehow she resisted the temptation on both counts. Once they were all gathered together, girlish giggles and long winded descriptions about expensive outfits prevailed. In the airport lounge they made an enticing group for the watching males to ogle at. Karen managed to keep well away from Angelina. On the plane she sat next to Justin's wife Demelza; a nymph of a girl with a bright impish face and curly brown hair, fashioned into tight ringlets, and Charles's wife, Alicia, still a glamorous woman, with her tall figure and dark shiny hair. On the aircraft they sat up front in business class and drank copious amounts of champagne. Karen had Angelina sitting right in front of her. On numerous occasions she was tempted to tip every glass over the woman's head. Occasionally though she did give a kick into the back of Angelina's seat, apologising each time.

At the Port of Heraklion there is a long harbour wall and you have to pass the sixteenth century fort, Koules, on the way in. A large ferry terminal is nearby with regular sailings to Athens, Rhodes and other Greek Islands. Ocean going cruise liners also call in there. Near to the town are some of the best beaches on the island. The Miranda approached elegantly towards the floating wharf where the big yachts berthed. The men were hoping to dock before the plane bringing their wives in landed and in this aim they were successful. The early part of their day was spent tidying up the boat and arranging for fresh provisions. They'd organised to all meet up for lunch at the Megaron hotel, except Charles who would remain on board as security and await Alicia there. His intention was to prepare lunch for her on the Miranda.

'Aren't you going to take your presents with you?' he called out to the younger three men as they began to embark for the hotel.

'No, we'll leave them as a surprise for tonight,' Justin replied while running his hand through his thick ginger hair. Charles noticed a shadow of doubt cross Justin's normally cheerful looking, rotund, school-boyish face. That evening they'd arranged for the hotel to deliver a special dinner to the boat, to avoid breaking up the party again for a security watch.

Charles remained in the cockpit watching the five men make their way, laughing and joking, down the gangplank. He was checking on his wristwatch to see how long it took them to reach the hotel. The journey took exactly thirteen minutes.

Then he rushed to Billy and Damien's cabin. The wardrobe door in there was locked and the key had been removed. Fortunately, he had duplicates made for all the keys on the boat. On a voyage, keys do become lost and it's cheaper to make duplicates beforehand rather than having to start breaking down doors. The duplicate opened the wardrobe instantly. Inside, clothes took up most of the space, but on the floor, with shoes stacked on top, were the three parcels. Quickly he got one out and checked his watch. Only two minutes had elapsed. The parcels all had identical brown paper wrapping, sealed with cellotape. He ran to the galley and fetched the sharpest, slimmest fish-gutting knife he could find. Back in the cabin he picked up the top parcel and felt for a loose bit of cellotape. Then, slowly and carefully, he slid the knife under it and along the groove, until he could prise enough of the brown paper apart to put his fingers inside. There he could feel the hardness of another cardboard box. From the little he could see, there were no clues to its contents, but it didn't look like an expensively wrapped present for a lady. By then six minutes had passed.

With his fingers he explored further. Again he felt cellotape on that box as well. By twisting his wrist, he could just about manage to find its edge and again using the knife, he was able to loosen an inch or two, without creating too much damage. Into the aperture he inserted his index finger and felt a plastic covering. Depressing his finger further confused him even more. He lifted the box up and peered into the opening he'd created, to discover a plastic packet.

Time was pressing. Thirteen minutes had elapsed since his friends had disappeared into the hotel. He ran back upstairs to the cockpit, carrying the parcel with him. There was still no sign of his friends returning. Carefully he repaired the damage to the box, while keeping check on the approach to the Miranda. Afterwards he placed it back in the wardrobe, tidied the shoes on top and then sat in the cockpit thinking, until Alicia arrived.

* * * * *

A noisy kerfuffle ensued when the other eleven all met up in the hotel foyer of the Megaron. Angelina was wearing a skimpy yellow sundress, which left little to the imagination. Karen continued to avoid her like a bad smell. The glamour of all the women drew a lot of attention

'How are you sweetheart?' Billy asked Karen. She responded with stony-faced silence, which the others all noticed.

'We'd better find these rooms we've booked,' Robert interrupted. 'I guess we've paid enough for them.' A murmur of agreement responded all round. Alicia arranged for a car to take her down to the harbour.

'I'd be perfectly happy to have a room to myself, ' Karen said loudly when the receptionist handed out the keys. The others again looked across at her, but nothing was said.

'Shall we all meet in the bar in twenty minutes?' Lawrence said trying to break the awkward silence.

Charles was waiting on the foredeck of the Miranda when Alicia's car drew up. She was wearing a silk blue blouse and white slacks. Looking ten years younger than her forty five years of age, a pair of large sunglasses rested in her shiny jet-black hair. He rushed down the gangplank to deal with the suitcase. 'It's great to see you my angel,' he said and kissed her firmly on the mouth. 'How was your flight?' he continued.

'Not as bad as I'd anticipated. It all went rather smoothly actually. I think the champagne put the other girls in a good humour.'

In the lounge Charles had organised her favourite gin and tonic. A salmon salad had been set out for lunch on the dining table.

'Oh Charles you are an angel,' she said as she took a sip of the gin. 'I have missed you.' They clinked glasses and kissed again. 'I'm so glad we're having lunch by ourselves. I think I've had enough of women's gossip for one day. Tell me though, is there something up between Billy and Karen.'

'Not that I know of,' Charles replied. 'Why?'

'Well she was most offhand with him at the hotel just now. Everybody noticed it. It was as though she couldn't bear to see him.'

'Perhaps they've had a row on the phone. He's always on that damn mobile of his,' Charles said and guided her to one of the settees. 'There is something I'm going to have to tell you about regarding Billy, Damien and Julian, before we meet up with them tonight.'

* * * * *

At the Megaron the others had re-gathered in the hotel bar, with the exception of Billy and Karen.

'Those two are taking a long time,' Dorothy, Robert's wife remarked. She was his second wife. She had brown hair fashioned to a point on her shoulders, a creamy pale complexion, warm blue eyes and was wearing a short blue dress which made her look pert.

'I expect they're having one of their rows,' Demelza cut in. 'They're famous for them.'

'Well I'm starving, if they're not here in five minutes,' Robert said, 'I'm going in to eat. I haven't had anything since six this morning.'

They took a few more moments over their drinks and then agreed to move to the dining room. At that moment Billy and Karen appeared; both looking agitated.

'Come on you two,' Lawrence called out.

In their hotel room Karen hadn't mentioned anything to Billy about the discovery of the videotape. However, Billy's every action, was criticised. Eventually his patience ran out.

'Look Karen I just don't know what's the matter with you today. Ever since you arrived you've behaved like a perfect bitch. I'm fed up with it. Will you please tell me what's bugging you.'

'You're bugging me Billy,' she replied acidly. 'Anyway I thought you would be used to bitches by now.'

'What's that supposed to mean?'

She made no response to that question, but their argumentative dialogue continued while she unpacked her case, washed and changed, which is why they were late for the luncheon, but she still didn't say anything to Billy about the tape.

During the lunch party the other couples continued to joke, laugh and reminisce about the voyage. Karen and Billy though remained sulky and silent, only speaking when they were addressed by one of the others. Afterwards the other couples retired to their individual rooms. Karen though changed into her bikini, went down to the hotel pool and found herself a lounger to lay out on. Billy spent his siesta alone on the bed in their room.

* * * * *

Charles and Alicia were sipping their gin and tonics on the Miranda as he told her about his find in Billy and Damien's wardrobe.

'Are you sure you've got it right,' Alicia said. 'I mean you can't be absolutely certain exactly what is in all the parcels. You've only described what you've felt with your finger on top of the first box. You don't know what's in the other boxes.'

'H'm,' Charles replied. 'The parcels are all the same shape and size.' He paused to sigh. 'The point is I have the responsibility for this boat. If the customs or the police come on board and find dope or something like that we would all be arrested and the boat impounded. There's no way, Alicia, that I'm going to allow that to happen.'

'No dear,' she said looking at his worried face. 'You must do what you think is best. What have you in mind?'

'I am going to have to confront them with it,' Charles replied. 'Tonight, before we go on any further with the voyage.'

'Oh dear. Well let's get the meal over with first. It's all ordered now and it's costing a fortune. At least let's try and enjoy that first. Do any of the others know about all this?'

'No, I only found out about it just before you arrived. I have had my suspicions though for sometime.' He then told Alicia about the huddled conversations, the secretive telephone calls and the three's reluctance to say what was in the parcels they'd brought on board at Gibraltar.

'Oh dear,' Alicia said again. 'Well at least they won't know of your find, so let's try and get through the meal. All of us girls have made such a big effort to come out here. The children have been hived off, new clothes bought, hair styling arranged, appointments cancelled. Let's at least have one decent meal together.'

'Yes, yes dear,' Charles said. 'But I can't put it off any longer than that.' Charles sighed. 'Why do these things always happen to me?' he said eventually, sounding exasperated.

Alicia smiled at him with her most sympathetic expression. When they'd finished their drinks she went to wash and change then they settled down to eat the salmon. For the rest of the afternoon they were able to spend some pleasant time in each other's company, although all the while these matters rested heavily on Charles's mind.

* * * * *

Later that evening the others noisily arrived back on board the Miranda. Billy staggered a little as he trod the slats of the gangplank. Karen was well ahead of him, already on deck. Charles and Alicia were in the saloon arranging the dining table. The men had brought some extra wine and liqueurs, which they'd purchased in town. The girls were armed with chocolates and flowers.

'Alicia this looks fabulous,' Jennifer said as she admired the dining table. Six lighted candles featured on tall silver candelabra, on a deep blue, silk tablecloth. Cut glass wine goblets sparkled in their glow; the silver glistened; silk napkins matched the design of the tablecloth. Soon the caterers arrived, left their fayre and departed.

The girls all wore outfits of flesh revealing quality. Somehow, Mediterranean suntans had been conjured from the worst ravages of a typically poor early British summer. Damien threatened to check his visa bill for tanning clinics when he got home. Copious amounts of alcohol were consumed. Baked camembert with herb potatoes, was followed by braised lamb with cherry tomatoes. Sweets of eclectic quality came next. By the time port and liqueurs had been served Charles decided it was time to bite the bullet he had been holding back all evening.

'Now Billy,' he began, 'when are we going to see those expensive presents you've bought for your ladies.'

'Ooooh!' the assembled company hollered, with the exception of the three men concerned. Suddenly frowns replaced their previously happy, inebriated faces.

'We were saving those for the bedroom back at the hotel,' Damien replied quickly.

Another lingering 'Ooooh!' emitted from the others.

'Oh come on don't be a lot of spoilsports,' Lawrence said.

'We're all adults and hopefully, all friends here,' Charles added.

'No I think Damien is right,' Justin chipped in. 'What's in the boxes is a bit personal.'

'Miseries,' and other similar uncomplimentary words were targeted at the three men, but they still wouldn't budge.

Then Karen rose from her chair to speak. The slight slur of her words betrayed the amount of alcohol she had consumed. 'Rather than have my family accused of being party poopers, I have something here that I hope will enliven the evening,' she said. Her hands shook nervously as she extracted the videotape from her handbag. 'It's a movie. I suppose you could call it a blue movie.'

Another 'Ooooh!' reverberated around the table. She walked over towards the video player.

'I'm not usually very good with these things, perhaps you could help me out Charles?' Karen said when she failed to insert the DVD into the machine. He obliged, then pressed the relevant buttons.

'As I said some of this maybe quite saucy,' Karen added and sat down again while the tape began to roll.

'Ooooh!' was expressed again loudly by most of them, then they all turned to look at the TV. Within a few moments the naked bodies of Billy and Angelina, in the act of coition, appeared in full colour on the screen.

* * * * *

Billy rushed to switch off the player. His face was swathed in anger. Angelina buried her head in her hands and began sobbing. The other women had already turned their heads away. The men sat in a state of shocked horror, except Damien, who was already out of his seat and heading in Billy's direction. His hands grasped out for the collar of Billy's shirt. 'That's my wife you're fucking,' he shouted into Billy's face. The two men grappled, then flayed punches wildly at each other. Soon they were rolling around on the floor in a contorted wrestling match. Their legs caught up with the end of the tablecloth. China and wine glasses spilled onto the floor, smashing into fragments as they hit the deck. The women screamed. Demelza cried out, 'Somebody do something for God's sake.'

Charles was the first out of his seat, the other men followed. Between them they eventually managed to separate the two protagonists. Billy had a bloodied nose. Cuts had appeared on Damien's face. Blood and wine soiled their previously immaculate attire. Sweat ran down their faces. Charles and Lawrence held Billy, while Justin and Robert clung onto Damien. The two of them continued to exchange venomous insults.

'Stop it you two,' Charles bellowed. 'This is my boat and I'll not have it damaged, or the ladies upset any further.' His words halted the verbal abuse, although it still required the four of them to hold on to Billy and Damien.

Charles had had enough, 'I'm going to have to ask you both to leave the boat immediately and settle your differences on dry land.' he shouted. The women were all out of their seats and huddled in a group together, except Angelina who remained at the table, still sobbing, with her head buried in her hands.

'If I get my hands on the bastard I'll kill him,' Damien shouted.

'Well that's up to you,' Charles responded quickly, 'but you're not going to do it on my boat. We are going to take you both on to the quayside. What you do to each other out there is your own business.'

'Don't do that they'll kill each other,' Dorothy called out, 'It's too near the water, they'll both probably drown.'

Charles still with his arms clasped around Billy's shoulders, said, 'All right, we'll take Billy up to the harbour and put him in a taxi. Damien is to remain here with Justin and Robert until Lawrence and I get back, then he can make his own way to the hotel. Those are my orders,' he said vehemently and, with Lawrence's help, he began to shuffle Billy out onto the deck.

When they returned Damien was slumped in a chair, looking exhausted. Angelina was still at the table sobbing. Karen was sipping at some wine and feeling rather pleased with herself. The other girls were tidying up the mess, and the three remaining men had all poured themselves large helpings of whatever alcohol was to hand.

Charles said forcefully, 'Justin I want to see you in my cabin please,' took a slug of brandy, before striding off in that direction. Justin looked at the others, shrugged his shoulders, gulped at the glass of brandy in his hand, and eventually followed on.

'Justin I have a problem on board this boat, which is not connected with what we have just witnessed,' Charles began, ' and I am going to need your help with it.'

'Sure Charles,' Justin replied. 'Anything, you say.'

'Today, I've had a tip off from the harbourmaster that the customs people are about the port and are likely to be searching boats at random. So tonight, when you all leave here for the hotel, which I hope will be soon, in view of what's just happened, I want you to take those three parcels you brought on board at Gibraltar with you. And if we continue on with the voyage, which I'm not sure about at this moment, I don't want the parcels back on my ship. Have I made myself clear?'

For a few moments Justin stared at Charles incredulously without replying. 'Sure Charles, if that's what you want,' he said eventually. 'What do you think is in the parcels?'

'I don't know and I don't want to know,' Charles replied. 'I just want them off my boat now. Pronto, in other words, OK?'

'OK, Charles.'

'Good. Let's go back up there and clear up the mess.'

In the saloon the others had repaired most of the damage. Angelina was at last standing up, looking shell shocked, although she still kept well away from Damien, who remained slumped in the chair.

Charles spoke next. 'Ladies and Gentlemen, I think it's time to break up the party. I'm sure you'll agree that we've all had enough for one evening.' There were murmurs of approval around the room. 'Damien, I've asked Justin to remove from the boat the parcels the three of you brought on board at Gibraltar. Can you both please ensure that is done.'

Damien looked about to respond but eventually just nodded his head. Gradually they all began to gather their belongings. Justin rang for some taxis to take them to the hotel.

Charles said to the men as they were about to leave, 'I think we'd better have a meeting of the crew about this in the morning. I'm not sure it would be wise to go on with the voyage. Can I say we meet in the hotel, at eleven o'clock.' The men nodded their heads in agreement. 'Will one of you please organise a private meeting room?' he added.

### CHAPTER FOUR

Next morning Charles was the first to arrive at the room in the Megaron. There was a small table with half a dozen chairs, water jugs and glasses. The air conditioning was on. The others eventually sauntered in one by one, except for Billy who didn't attend. All of them bore peaky complexions. Damien turned up last looking as though he hadn't slept, wearing the same blood spattered clothes he'd worn the previous evening. Cuts and bruises remained evident on his face. When Charles asked where Billy was, he was told he'd spent the night at another hotel. None of them knew exactly where.

'Right, let's get on with it then,' Charles began in a weary manner. 'We can't wait around all day for him.' They each pulled out a chair and sat around the table. 'At this moment in time I'm for curtailing the trip here,' Charles said. 'I don't really see how we can sail such a long distance with Billy and Damien together on the same boat. At sea many problems occur. You have to have a united crew or everything becomes a potential disaster and I'm not having that.' There were murmurs of approval around the table. 'What say you Damien?' Charles asked.

To begin with he made no response, except to rub his bloodshot eyes and scratch his hair. 'I can see where you're coming from Charles,' he said eventually, then paused. 'It's just that we all had our hearts set on Hong Kong. That was the purpose of the trip. We'll have failed if we don't achieve that.'

'I realise that,' Charles replied. 'But we have an unforeseen problem. If I'd known anything about this at the start I would never have embarked on the trip in the first place.'

Justin interceded next. 'But we've all spent time and money preparing for the trip, not to mention the weeks we've written off for the actual voyage. It would be nonsense if we abandoned it as soon as we hit the first real problem. Up to last night we all managed quite well. If Billy doesn't want to continue, could the five of us go on?'

Charles thought for a moment then said, 'I suppose that's possible. But we don't know his intentions. Does Karen know where he is?' The others shook their heads.

'At the moment, she doesn't know, or care,' Lawrence said. 'Everybody's pretty cut up about it.'

'I'm sure they are,' Charles responded with a sigh. 'But we can't keep the boat here for much longer. The harbour fees are too high. We've got to come to a decision by tomorrow at the latest. Maybe I'd better see Billy separately. Could everybody make an effort to find where he's gone to ground, ' he said, sighed again, then continued. 'I need to have a consensus before I make a final decision.'

They talked some more on the matter. Damien was for carrying on without Billy, adding that he was the one who'd caused the trouble. Justin supported him in that respect, saying that his long-standing desire had been to get to Hong Kong. Robert was for going on but he didn't think it was viable if both Billy and Damien wanted to remain on board. He also asked if it was possible for just four or five of them to manage the boat for the remainder of the journey. Charles thought carefully before replying.

'I suppose it's a possibility,' Charles replied. 'It would take longer though, because we'd have to stop more often to rest. We wouldn't have the numbers to rotate the watch as we've being doing up to now,' he paused looked down at his hands then continued. 'Maybe Alicia would join us on board to make up the numbers. I'd have to ask her first though. She's sailed regularly as part of a crew, although she's never been as far as we have left to travel. And she may not want to do it with only men on board, but I could ask her. Would any of you have any objection to her joining us?' Charles looked at each man in turn. They all said no, or something similar.

'I'll ring Billy on his mobile when I get back on board and keep trying until I raise him,' Charles said next. There were other matters to do with finance for the supplies and fuel that needed sorting out before they broke up. A tentative arrangement was made for dinner at the hotel that evening, but numbers weren't agreed upon at that stage. Charles then went back to the Miranda, the others to their hotel rooms.

* * * * *

'What would you say to joining the crew for the rest of the voyage?' Charles asked Alicia when he got back on board the Miranda.

'You mean me sail with a boat load of men?' she replied with a chuckle.

Charles went on to describe the permutations of crew he had discussed with the other men back at the hotel. He finished off by saying, 'you're the only one of the girls who has ever been on a boat. One like this anyway. You could handle it. And it would make up the numbers somewhat and give us more options to sail for longer. To date, except for Biscay, we've really had no bad weather. Once we get into the Indian Ocean things could change dramatically.'

'I don't know Charles,' Alicia responded. 'I'll have to think about it.' And so the idea was left in abeyance.

Throughout the morning Charles continued to ring Billy's mobile number. Sometime near lunchtime he answered it. 'Billy where the hell are you? I've been trying to contact you all morning,' Charles bellowed down the phone. 'We had to have a meeting about what we are going to do. I really needed you to be there.'

'Didn't think my company would be welcome,' Billy said. 'Particularly with Damien about. I didn't want to cause another rumpus like last night.'

'I appreciate that Billy, but you still have a responsibility to the rest of the crew. This voyage is a team effort. I've stressed that from the outset. You could have phoned me if you were not going to be around. Where are you staying?'

'I'm in a small hotel in town. I think it will be better for everybody if I stay here until the others check out of the Megaron.'

'H'm, Ok,' Charles replied. He then went on to tell Billy the options that had been discussed. He stressed that they'd all agreed that it would be impossible for him and Damien to be together on the Miranda.

'I see your point Charles,' Billy said. 'It's just that I'd set my heart on sailing to Hong Kong.'

'Well Billy, if Damien remains on board, you won't. Not on my boat anyway.'

Charles heard Billy sigh heavily. 'OK Charles,' Billy said eventually. 'You'd better let me think about it for a while. I'll get back to you.'

'I must know by this afternoon,' Charles said forcefully. 'We can't afford to keep the boat in harbour after tomorrow. The fees are too high. Remember the money's coming out of your pocket as well.' Billy agreed to ring him back and they ended their call.

* * * * *

During the afternoon it transpired that Billy had contacted Justin by mobile. As a result of their conversation he realised that there was no way he would be allowed back on the Miranda, if Damien wanted to continue with the voyage. The question of the parcels was then broached. 'We have got to get those things to Hong Kong,' Billy said. 'We're committed to that.'

'I know,' Justin responded. 'But we can't risk taking them on a plane. The yacht is our only realistic way. Which means you won't be able to sail with us. You could fly out there and meet up with us once we'd arrived.'

'That's an idea,' Billy said.

'Trouble is Charles has made us take the parcels back to the hotel. He has his suspicions and won't have them on board.'

'Damn the man,' Billy said. 'What's given rise to that?'

'Don't know. I think it was after we refused to open them up at dinner last night.'

'Damn and blast,' Billy cussed.

'You're the one who's cocked it all up with your extra curricular activities,' Justin responded. 'Anyway was she a good shag?'

'Fabulous,' replied Billy.

It was agreed between them that there was no way Billy could continue with the voyage. Justin would relate the details to Damien. The two of them would also try to somehow smuggle the contents of the parcels back on board the Miranda.

'You'll have to repack the goods into smaller bags amongst your clothes,' Billy had said. 'There's no point in you going on with the voyage without the parcels.'

So that's what they agreed to do.

Billy telephoned Charles back in the afternoon. He told him that it would be best for all concerned if he pulled out of the voyage, to enable Justin and Damien to sail on to Hong Kong. He also said that to avoid any further altercations he would remain at his current hotel until the others had checked out of the Megaron and then fly back to the UK by himself.

'I appreciate you letting me know,' Charles responded. 'I think you've made the best decision for all of us and I thank you for that,' Charles said and they ended their call. He then put in a call to the others at the hotel and arranged for them to meet at four o'clock on board the Miranda.

* * * * *

What Charles had not bargained for was that Justin and Damien had arranged for the other women to come down to the boat with them that afternoon.

'They can get a suntan on deck and I didn't want to leave Angelina at the hotel in case Billy came back this afternoon,' Damien said when Charles questioned him on the matter.

'And Demelza is going to take some of our cold weather clothes back with her on the plane,' Justin cut in quickly. 'We shouldn't need them from here on. She'll swap them for some lighter summer ones.'

So, Alicia organised for the other girls to sit out on deck, while Charles and the men headed for the saloon, with Angelina and Demelza, following on behind, carrying the holdalls.

'They'll just sort the clothes out quickly,' said Damien, 'and then it will be done with.'

Charles arranged drinks in the saloon while the girls went down to the berths. They were soon back and went up on deck carrying the same holdalls bulging with clothes.

'That should lighten our load somewhat,' Justin said jocularly. 'We'll sail much faster now.'

Charles pressed on with the business. He was anxious for the arrangements to be clear so they could sail on the following day. They took a vote on everything. 'Are we agreed that the five of us will continue on to Hong Kong?' he asked. 'Please raise your hands if you agree.' They all raised their hands. 'Are we agreed then that we will have to reimburse some money at the end of the voyage to Billy in respect of his financial contribution to the trip?'

Slowly each one raised his arm, except Damien, who at first hesitated. The other four all looked in his direction. After some moments he raised his arm. 'I want to apologise to you guys for my behaviour last night,' he added. The others looked resigned. 'I was mad angry but I shouldn't have handled it that way.' There were noises and gestures of approval from the others. They proceeded to vote on a list of other matters Charles had written down regarding the voyage, which took about half an hour or so to clear up. Afterwards they went on deck to join the ladies and Charles announced that the voyage was to continue. His words seemed to lift the gloom that had prevailed since the previous evenings fracas. Celebratory drinks were enjoyed. They decided they would split up to dine that night. Angelina and Demelza would go to a restaurant near the harbour. Karen would join Robert and Dorothy at the hotel dining room. Damien and Justin would go up into town to eat. Alicia, Charles, Lawrence and Jennifer would dine on board the Miranda. After more drinks they went their separate ways. They agreed to meet on board again early in the morning.

When they had gone Charles had a shower and spent some time down below, then took a short walk along the harbour. When he came back into the saloon he was at last able to relax with Alicia, Lawrence and Jennifer. Jennifer was a short woman, with an attractive figure, fair hair and blue eyes, like her husbands. 'I just don't know what possesses Billy sometimes,' she said as she sipped an iced chilled Pimm's. 'I mean, to get involved with Angelina like that amazes me. He's one of Damien's oldest friends. And what on earth does he want to film it all for, for goodness sake.'

'With Billy I think it's a case of macho egotism,' Charles responded. 'I don't know Angelina that well, but from what little I've seen of her, I guess it's pretty much the same thing.'

That evening the four of them were able to enjoy an uninterrupted meal. It was only afterwards when the two men were sitting on the settees sipping a post dinner brandy that problems again came to a head. The girls were in the galley clearing up the dinner when Charles said to Lawrence, 'Harking back to the other three and the parcels, I still can't believe they would be daft enough to get themselves involved in anything stupid.'

'You're still worried about it aren't you?' Lawrence replied. 'It could all be something completely innocent.'

'You may be right, but I think I'm wise enough, in my old age, to smell a rat.'

Alicia overheard their conversation and cut in. 'Charles I didn't want to say anything beforehand to spoil our meal, but I now also have my doubts about what is in those holdalls they brought back on board.'

'What do you mean sweetheart?' Charles snapped back quickly.

'Well, I had to go below decks when the two girls took the bags down there. There was a lot of furtive whispering between them and I heard Demelza say to Angelina that Justin had said to lock the bags in the wardrobe and make sure to bring back the key.'

Charles and Lawrence looked at each other. 'Oh bloody hell no,' Charles said angrily. 'Why didn't you tell me that before?'

'I'm afraid it didn't really connect at the time. It's only when I heard you and Lawrence talking just now that it struck me. So much else was going on when they arrived that I'm afraid the consequences of what they were talking about didn't really sink in.'

Charles and Lawrence looked at each other again. 'We are going to have to look in that wardrobe Lawrence,' Charles said eventually. 'And I'm going to need you as a witness.'

'Can you do that,' Jennifer interrupted.

'It's my boat,' Charles said. 'I can do what I bloody well want on my boat. Will you help me Lawrence?'

Lawrence's six foot three frame rose slowly out of the chair. 'Of course I will,' he replied and the two of them went below.

This time the door to Damien and Billy's cabin was also locked but Charles had a key for that as well. 'I'll wring those buggers necks if I find that they've brought something stupid on board again,' he said to Lawrence as he unlocked the door. The wardrobe was similarly locked. Charles twisted the duplicate key angrily in the barrel. Inside there was a pile of shoes on top of a collection of t-shirts and shorts and then underneath those, resting on the floor, were three plastic supermarket shopping bags. Charles dragged them out onto the bedroom floor.

'Let's have a look and settle this once and for all,' Charles said and untied the knot on one of the bags. Inside there were plastic packets, sized about three by four inches, containing reddish/brown tablets of the same size. Charles picked up one of them, handed it to Lawrence, then picked up another to study himself.

'What the hell is this?' Lawrence questioned.

'The stupid, stupid bastards,' Charles stated vehemently. He had turned the plastic package over in his hands and on the bottom side there was a white sticker on which the word 'Semtex' was written in bold black letters. 'The stupid fucking bastards!!' Charles repeated. 'We could have all been blown out of the water.'

* * * * *

'What do we do now?' Lawrence said, looking at Charles.

'We have to take this little lot up to the Hotel and confront them with it. I'm not having this stuff on my boat a moment longer. We'd better tell the girls.'

They put the items back into the bags and went upstairs to the saloon, where Charles told the ladies of their find and what they intended to do.

'Charles you must be careful. Things could get violent if you go barging in up there shouting the odds,' Alicia said.

'Violent! Violent! I'll wring their bloody necks. They could have got us all in jail or worse still, blown up.'

'Shouldn't you tell the police?' Alicia asked. Charles thought for a moment.

'They can sort out their own mess. I just want them and their stuff off my ship.' Charles paused and looked at the other three. 'I'm afraid this means we won't be able to go on as planned. I'm not having any of them on board as part of my crew under any circumstances. They've seriously disobeyed my instructions.'

'We'll if you're going to go up to the hotel now,' Alicia said. 'We'd better phone for a taxi to take you there. You don't want to get stopped by the harbour police carrying those parcels.' Charles let out a big long sigh. Lawrence switched on his mobile and rang for a taxi.

* * * * *

Fortunately when they got to the hotel Damien and Justin had not returned from town. Robert, Dorothy and Karen were in the hotel lounge sipping post dinner drinks. Charles beckoned to Robert to join him and Lawrence at another table.

'What are the bloody idiots playing at,' Robert responded when Charles told them about the Semtex.

'I haven't a clue,' Charles said, 'but I'm not having it, or them on my boat and that's final.'

Lawrence nodded his head in agreement and said, 'The three of us are going to have to confront them. I think it may be better if I told them though. Charles would just lose his temper.'

'Too bloody right I would,' Charles cut in.

'Strength in numbers is best with this sort of thing,' Robert said, agreeing. And so the three of them waited for Damien and Justin to return. The wait gave them the opportunity to discuss their alternatives.

'We'd have extreme difficulty sailing all the way to Hong Kong as a threesome,' Charles said. 'The longest part of the journey is still to come. It's a day and a half from here to the Suez Canal. Once we're through that it's about four days sailing down the Red Sea to our next stop at Djibouti. Then there's at least another week to cross the Gulf of Aden to Mirissa, our stop in Sri Lanka. Then another five or six days to Singapore and probably another five or six days from there before we get to Hong Kong. For that sort of journey, allowing for bad weather and delays we were on bare numbers with six. Anything less is stretching it severely. And that's assuming nobody gets ill.'

The other two looked worried. 'You're the skipper Charles,' Robert said. 'Lawrence and I will be guided by you. You've done this sort of thing before, we haven't and it's your boat. We don't want anything to happen to that or to any of us. Could we get back home from here with just the three of us?'

Charles thought for a few moments before replying. 'Perhaps,' he said and moved his hands in a shaking movement to express his anxiety. 'We have sailed about this far before in the Med with only a smallish crew.' He thought for a few seconds more. 'I could ask Alicia, see if she would help us out.'

''I think we ought to get this Semtex business over with tonight and then sleep on it,' Robert said. 'The three of us can meet up early in the morning and make a decision then.'

They talked some more around the matter until Damien and Justin arrived back in the hotel. Shiny faces and glistening eyes confirmed they'd been drinking. 'What's this, a meeting of the Mother's Union,' Justin said jokingly as they drew near. Charles, Robert and Lawrence remained seated, looking impassive.

'I think we need to have a discussion in your room if you don't mind,' Charles said replying to Justin. 'Something important has come up and we need to talk in private.'

The chirpy expressions on the two men's faces changed instantly. 'What's the matter, is somebody ill?' Damien said looking worried.

'Let's talk in your room please,' Charles reaffirmed.

Damien and Justin led the way to the lift, followed by Robert and Lawrence. Charles had temporarily left the plastic shopping bags behind the desk at reception. He told the others he'd catch them up.

'It has been brought to your attention before that we were not happy about the parcels you brought on board at Gibraltar,' Charles heard Lawrence say as he entered their room.

'But we've removed the parcels,' Damien replied. 'Whatever you found offensive about them is no longer on board.'

'That's not true. We found these in your room this evening,' Charles said and lifted up the shopping bags.

'There's only spare clothes in there,' Justin said with a snigger and added. 'You must have been searching amongst our private possessions?'

'We have indeed,' Charles shot back. 'As the owner of the boat I have a right to do that. And I'm damn glad I did before the police or the customs found them. I'm afraid that this is the end of the voyage for you two. I simply cannot believe you have put all our lives at risk like this. We have decided that we don't want you back on board. You can send your ladies down in the morning to pick up your possessions, but I'm not having either of you back on Miranda again.'

'You can't do that, we've invested our money in this trip,' Damien snapped back.

'Oh yes I can,' Charles retorted. 'We will review the financial side of the trip at a later date, but for the time being you're both dismissed from the ship.'

'What are you saying is in the bags then?' Justin said.

'You're bloody maniacs,' Charles said as he tipped the contents of the bags onto the floor. Damien and Justin stood frozen in silence seeing the packets of Semtex scattered at their feet. 'Bloody maniacs,' Charles repeated.

'Well you must have planted them,' Justin said next. 'There were clothes in those bags last time I looked. You had no right to go into my personal possessions. You're doing this just to get us off the boat.'

'Don't make us laugh,' Robert cut in. 'Why would we want to get you off the boat. We can't go on with the voyage without you. And where would we get this sort of stuff from? I suggest the three of you acquired it when we called into Gibraltar'.

'If you have any complaints, I'll call the police, if you like,' Charles said. 'You can take it up with them.'

For some moments they all stood in a circle with the plastic packages scattered at their feet like a spilt grocery order.

'I don't think there's anything further to say, for the moment,' Lawrence said next. 'Robert, myself, Charles and Alicia will be staying on the boat tonight.' Something they had agreed on earlier. 'As Charles has said,' Lawrence continued, 'if your ladies come down to the boat in the morning, in a taxi, we'll help them clear up your things. If there is any nonsense however we'll send for the police.'

Damien and Justin remained looking dumbfounded. At that moment they were lacking Billy's guidance. 'I think that's all that needs to be said for the time being,' Charles said. 'Except to say that you have surprised us very much. This was a once in a lifetime opportunity for all of us.' Damien was about to say something, but Charles raised his hand and interrupted before he could speak. 'Don't say another word please Damien.' Then he, Lawrence and Robert made for the door leaving the Semtex packages strewn across the floor.

* * * * *

There was plenty to discuss when Charles, Lawrence and Robert were back on board the Miranda. Should they turn the boat around in the morning and head for home? Would the three of them be able to cope with that journey? Even that was still a long way for such a small crew, despite the boat's electronic gadgetry. Was Hong Kong still a realistic possibility? Those were the questions they tossed back and fore to each other until well past the midnight hour.

'Could we get some more crew to come out here to help us?' Robert asked.

'Not at this short notice,' Charles replied. 'Firstly we can't afford to stay here to wait. And to get to Hong Kong is still going to take us at least another month. I don't know anybody who could drop everything at such short notice and devote that amount of time.' It was well into the early hours before they went to bed, still having reached no firm conclusions.

### CHAPTER FIVE

Charles tossed and turned for most of the night. Sleep was intermittent and in between his mind wrestled with the problems of the voyage. Alongside him Alicia was aware of his restlessness. By five o'clock she'd had enough.

'Neither of us are going to get much sleep at this rate,' she said when another bout of his movements disturbed her. 'I've been thinking,' she added.

Charles rolled over on his side to look at her. 'What's that my dear.'

'If I stayed on board, could the four of us make it to Hong Kong?'

Charles sat up quickly and scratched his body. 'I don't know,' he responded. 'It's a hell of a long way from here. With such a small crew it would take much longer than I'd originally planned. We'd have to stop more often to rest and if one of us became ill we'd be in real trouble. And the worst of the weather could still be ahead of us.'

Both of them said nothing for a few moments. Charles continued to scratch himself.

'Well if it will help I'm prepared to come along,' Alicia said next. 'It has to be your decision though. It's your boat and you know best about these things.' Charles lent over and kissed her on the cheek.

'Bless you,' he said.

Half an hour or so later Charles got out of bed and made some tea. After they'd drunk it he woke up Robert and Lawrence. The four of them were soon all sitting around the table in the galley supping on mugs of coffee. Charles began, 'I know it is early but we are going to have to make a decision on this before we do anything more.' The other two looked at him. 'Alicia here,' he continued, while pointing at his wife, 'has very nobly agreed to crew with the three of us for the remainder of the journey to Hong Kong. That is if you two feel we can make it as a foursome.'

'Well done Alicia,' Lawrence said. Robert patted her arm and gave her his best smile.

'What we have to decide is whether we can survive as a foursome all that way,' Charles continued. 'It's going to be five or six weeks of sailing with the possibility of atrocious weather. The Arabian Sea can be very treacherous. There maybe storms, monsoons, even cyclones, you just never know.' He walked into the saloon, fetched back a large map and set it out on the table for them all to see.

'We're here now,' he began, pointing his finger at Crete. 'To the Suez Canal isn't a problem. Down the Red Sea to Djibouti should be OK, it's a relatively sheltered stretch of water.' He traced his finger along the route. 'Once we've left the Gulf of Aden that's when our problems could begin. The Arabian Sea is the really dangerous stretch. From about here,' he pointed again with his finger at the middle of the large expanse of water, 'there is no turning back and that's exactly where the storms may hit us. There's only a few tiny islands between this point and Sri Lanka.' The other three looked on intently as Charles drew his finger over the route. 'It's over a weeks sailing to Mirissa, our planned port of call there. If anything goes wrong in there,' his index finger hovered again over the central area, 'we'd be stuck in the middle of one hell of a big stretch of ocean. It's over two thousand miles to cross it all.' Three concerned faces looked up at Charles. 'So what do we do?' he asked.

'Does anyone not want to go on?' Lawrence said. They all looked at each other. Nobody said anything. 'All right has anybody any major doubts or fears then?'

'I think we've all got some of those,' Robert cut in. 'But none of us got to where we are today without having some reservations at one time or another. If Charles thinks we have a chance of making it as a foursome I'm willing to have a try. What else are we going to do? Go home and be miserable!'

'What about you Alicia?' Lawrence said next. 'What's your opinion?'

'I'll go along with whatever Charles recommends. That's what I've had to do for most of my life anyway,' she added with a chuckle. The others laughed, then they all looked at Charles.

'I repeat it could be very dangerous,' he said and then rubbed his chin and sighed. 'OK, let's have a show of hands. 'Who's for going home?' No hands were raised. 'And who's for going on?' he said next. Around the table four hands were raised. 'That's about it then. We set sail for Hong Kong sometime this morning.'

* * * * *

Later that morning the three younger men were also having a meeting. Justin had made contact with Billy and told him about their situation. 'You and Damien are just going to have to patch up your differences,' he'd said to Billy on the phone. 'The three of us have all invested a lot of capital in this venture. We're not going to get any of it back if we don't do something positive. Charles has duped us on that one. What we're left is a very dangerous cargo that has no value here. We don't know any traders here. Our only hope is to take it to Hong Kong. We've got connections there. We're going to have to make some quick decisions.'

Justin's words managed to stir Billy out of his self imposed exile. The three of them met up at a small café a few streets away from the Megaron.

'Seems we are stuck with these packages now,' Billy said. 'It's our only hope of getting some money back on the venture.'

'Well what do you suggest then Mister Clever-Dick,' Damien responded sarcastically to Billy. The animosity between the two of them was still plainly evident. The cuts on his face had become scabby sores. 'We can't go by plane, the airport customs would pick the cargo up straight away. Perhaps we could walk there?'

'We're going to get nowhere if you two keep bickering at each other,' Justin cut in. 'Let's try and stick to the matter in hand and be constructive.' Billy and Damien glared at each other before Justin continued. 'Our original intention was sail to Hong Kong on a yacht. What about hiring a yacht ourselves?'

'But we've already paid out for a yacht?' Damien responded

'I know, but I've spoken to Charles about that. I think there's a good chance we'll get a portion of the money back,' Justin said. 'We're not even half way along on the planned voyage yet.'

'But we're not competent enough to sail a boat to Hong Kong,' Billy said. They stopped talking while the waiter served their coffees.

When he'd gone Justin continued. 'I know that but if we hire a yacht with a skipper and one or two crew we could manage the rest. I mean, we've learnt quite a lot on this voyage. People do hire a boat with some crew for a holiday.'

'Yes, but it's a hell of a journey to Hong Kong,' Billy said. 'We're not talking about a jolly around the Med. And we don't know how the cargo would react on a rough sea voyage. The Miranda is a solid boat. Anything lighter and who knows what might happen?'

'I know that Billy. I'm just trying to come up with some ideas,' Justin continued. 'Do you want to forget the whole project now. Throw away what we are left with into the ocean and fly back home with our tails between our legs and a bloody great hole in our bank accounts?' The other two looked at Justin in silence. 'All I'm proposing is that we explore the possibilities,' he added.

And so, with a cloud of doubt hanging over them, that's what they agreed to do. Justin would firstly go down to see Charles on the Miranda.

* * * * *

Alicia was on deck when she spotted Justin approaching along the harbour foreshore. By the time he reached the gangplank, Lawrence, Charles and Robert were waiting for him, with stony faces.

'You needn't look like that, I'm not coming here looking for trouble,' Justin said. The sun was up and it was warm on deck. The Miranda was rocking gently in the clear harbour water. The three men stepped back to allow Justin on board. 'I need to talk to you for a few moments,' he said. Charles gestured to a nearby table with chairs on the deck.

'The three of us have decided to have a go at sailing on for Hong Kong by ourselves,' Justin began when they'd all sat down. 'That means that we will have to charter a boat and some crew, which will cost money,' he continued. The other three men looked at him in astonishment. 'Trouble is, as you know, we have invested a lot of money in this venture and we can't afford to do our own thing while our capital is tied up here,' he said and waved his arm to indicate the Miranda. 'Having got this far we don't want to chuck it in, despite our differences.' There was no reply from the others so Justin was forced to continue. 'I've come here to ask you for the remaining portion of our money to be refunded so we can make alternative arrangements.'

Charles spoke next. 'I suppose I should first tell you that we also have decided to carry on as a foursome. Alicia has agreed to make up the crew.'

'Well why can't we let bygones be bygones and go on as before,' Justin interrupted.

'I'm not having that,' Charles responded quickly.

'Well we want our money back then, or at least the portion for the rest of the voyage.'

Charles thought for a few moments and looked at his two companions. The money for the voyage was deposited in a bank account in the name of the Miranda, which required him, Justin and Lawrence to sign for withdrawals. 'How are you going to cope sailing a boat to Hong Kong?' Charles asked. 'None of you have any navigation experience?'

'I've already told you,' Justin began impatiently, 'we are going to have to charter a boat and hire some sort of crew. That's why we need our money urgently.'

'Well I'd have to prepare the accounts, and work out everything we've spent so far and then split the rest up between us. You know the cash is all in one pot. We're sailing this morning. I haven't got time to do that now.'

'Well you'll have to let us have something on account then, to tide us over. I'm serious Charles. It's our money as well as yours and at this moment in time we're desperate. We can't afford to go back home and start again.'

'If you hadn't brought Semtex on board, there wouldn't be this trouble,' Charles snapped back.

'We didn't bring any Semtex on board,' Justin said.

Charles looked across at Lawrence and Robert. Lawrence spoke next. 'I think they're entitled to their money,' he said. 'We've got the cheque book here on board. There's still a lot of money on the account.'

Charles sighed and scratched his chin again. 'All right, I'll let you have five thousand on account,' he said irritably.

Justin scoffed mockingly. 'Don't be daft man,' he said. 'That's not enough to hire a boat and crew plus provisions to take us to Hong Kong. There's thousands still left on the account.'

'I think we'd better let them have ten, Charles,' Robert said. 'That's enough to get them on their way. We can work out the accounts while we're sailing to Port Said.' Charles scratched his chin again.

And so that's what they did. Charles reluctantly wrote out a cheque for ten thousand pounds. Justin returned with it to the Megaron and told their wives to go and fetch their clothes from the Miranda. Meanwhile Charles, Robert, Alicia and Lawrence prepared the boat for sailing.

* * * * * *

Much later that morning, as the Miranda slowly edged her way out of Heraklion harbour, Justin, Damien, Karen, Dorothy, Angelina, Demelza and Jennifer slowly appeared, in ones and twos, for a gathering in the hotel lounge at the Megaron. Billy remained absent. Karen hadn't spoken to Angelina since the evening meal on board the Miranda and continued to avoid her as though she had an infectious disease. Something she silently prayed that Angelina would catch. After a long discussion all the girls agreed to fly home together on a UK flight later that afternoon.

When that was settled Justin phoned Billy with an update on the situation. It was agreed that he and Damien would go their separate ways to search for a boat to charter, while Justin went into town to bank the ten thousand pound cheque. An account in their three names had been opened before the voyage to use for their personal expenses on the trip.

'It's too dangerous and far too long a journey for this type of charter,' a boat hire salesman said to Damien in a swish air-conditioned office at Heraklion harbour. 'These are not our boats. We only hire them out for the owners. A trip around the Med would be fine, but a lengthy journey of that nature would be out of the question for one of these expensive yachts with such a small crew.'

The salesman that Billy met was much of the same opinion. He did however mention that there was a Greek man named Kostos, who would undertake the occasional charter for a fee. 'The boat is motorised,' he added. 'It's berthed at the end of the yard,' he said and pointed in the direction.

At the far end of the harbour, well beyond the expensive yachts, Billy discovered an aged, fifteen metre motorised cruiser. In size and grandeur it bore no resemblance whatsoever to the Miranda. The word Addela was etched in red letters on an off white, slightly grubby, stern. A rickety wooden gangplank connected the vessel to the quayside. It wasn't a wreck, but equally it didn't compare with the other glistening cruisers berthed nearby. Billy called out, 'Mister Kostos.'

For some moments nothing stirred. Billy was about to call again when, from inside the cabin, a tall, slim middle aged figure, dressed in a blue denim shirt and stained, white cut-off slacks, languidly appeared on deck. He was barefoot. On his head he wore a scruffy blue sailing cap. His weather-beaten face was half hidden behind a greying beard and moustache. He said nothing so Billy was forced to speak again.

'Mister Kostos?' Billy reiterated. The man on deck still did not reply, but he did nod his head so Billy continued. 'I am looking to hire a boat and some crew. My friends and I are hoping to get to Hong Kong. I'm told you may be able to help us?'

The man Kostos still said nothing, but he did take off his cap and scratch his head, revealing dark, tightly curled hair, beginning to turn grey. 'You had better come aboard,' he said eventually in broken English.

Billy looked at the boat. There was, of course, no rigging. The deck at the stern was tiny. He followed Kostos inside to a wood panelled saloon. Headroom was low and the fittings certainly weren't luxurious. He looked at Kostos. Underneath the beard and moustache he bore a pock marked face and rotting teeth.

'You want a passage to Hong Kong?' Kostos said as a question.

'That's what we would like, yes, ' Billy replied.

'How many of you?' Kostos responded while again scratching his head.

'Three,' Billy said, 'And we can help to crew for you. We have come down from the UK on another yacht, under sail and crewed on that boat, so we could help out, if you were interested.'

Kostos smirked but initially made no reply. 'Why do you want to go to Hong Kong by boat?' he said after some moments. 'It is much easier and cheaper by air.'

'We have just retired from work,' Billy explained. 'Since we were young it has been our ambition to sail by boat to Hong Kong. Having got this far, we want to go the whole way.'

Kostos again scratched his head, then he described in agitated broken English about the length of the journey, the time it would take, the cost of the fuel, the stops they would have to make and the dangers involved.

'We realise all of that,' Billy said when Kostos had finished. 'But we are willing to pay. We understand the likely cost.'

Kostos blew out his cheeks in a big sigh. 'I will have to think about it and work out a price,' he responded. 'It is a very long way.'

'We know that,' Billy said.

'And I will have to speak to my son about it. He is not here at the moment. He would have to come with us, which means that there would be food and provisions for five and we have to come back as well. The fuel bill would be enormous,' he added and shrugged his shoulders. 'I don't know. It will run into thousands. Can you come back this evening? My son, he will be here this evening.' When he stopped talking he looked at Billy intently and then continued again. 'I don't know. I'm not sure. Will you want to fish? Most of my clients want to go on a fishing trip?'

'No, we're not fishermen,' Billy said with a chuckle. 'We will come back this evening if you can give us a definite decision and a price, but we must know today or we will have to make alternative arrangements. We are staying at the Megaron and everyday we stay it costs us more.'

Kostos shook his head and sighed again. 'Ok. You be here at eight tonight. But I would want to be paid in dollars. You come to my boat tonight and I will let you know. My son will be here then.'

They shook hands. After he had gone Kostos stood for a long time in the wheelhouse watching Billy make his way across the harbour.

* * * * *

Later on the three Englishmen met up at a café near the Megaron. They ordered coffee and sat at a table looking out across the harbour. Billy and Damien both gave a resumé of their afternoon's activities.

'I think this guy Kostos may be our only hope,' Billy said. 'So tonight we'd better try and keep on his good side.'

'Yes, but how much is it going to cost,' Justin responded.

'I don't know, but we have got the ten thousand pounds and there should be more to come,' Billy replied. 'In our calculations we'd bargained for at least that amount to sail on the Miranda, so we're not really losing out in that respect.'

'But you say this guy wants the money in dollars,' Damien cut. 'The pound is lousy at the moment. We'd get clobbered if we converted it into dollars.'

'Well have you got any brighter ideas?' Billy responded aggressively.

'Now come on you two we've got to remain focused on this if we are going to get anywhere,' Justin said.

The waiter arrived with their coffees. 'Before we go to the boat tonight I think we need to formulate a plan about what we are going to say,' Billy said after the waiter had gone. And so they pulled their chairs closer around the table and got their heads together.

* * * * *

Kostos came out on deck when they arrived at the Addela. He gave them a cursory greeting and then led them into the saloon. Sitting at the table, on one of the settees, smoking a cigarette, was a long legged angular young man in his late twenties, who by resemblance, was obviously Kostos' son. His head was shaven bald. Slimmer than his father, he wore a green t-shirt, blue jeans and white sneakers.

'This is my son Nathaniel,' Kostos said. Nathaniel remained in his seat, but nodded his head in response. 'And my first name is Zachary,' Kostos continued, 'just so we all know each other.' Justin then listed their three names and they all shook hands and sat down around the table.

'Have you been able to work out a price for our journey?' Justin asked immediately.

Kostos scratched his head then picked up a piece of paper that was on the cupboard top alongside the table. 'It is difficult,' he began. 'Firstly, as I said before, it is a very long way and many things could happen. Also, I do not know how much the harbour fees would be at the places where we need to stop. So I have had to take a guess at many of the figures. Food and fuel will also vary at each place so again I do not know the exact amount. That is why I need the money in dollars. We will get a better deal in dollars at each place.'

'We appreciate all of that,' Damien replied. 'But we have to budget for a top figure. Over that amount we couldn't afford the trip.'

'My father and I are not sure we wish to undertake the job,' Nathaniel cut in without looking directly at the Englishmen. 'If we cannot make any money out of the trip there is no point in us doing it. We can always make a bit of income on fishing trips locally,' he added and spread his right arm out wide, gesturing to the sea outside the window of the saloon.

'Well let's hear what amount you have come up with,' Damien replied impatiently.

Kostos scratched his head and his beard before quoting a figure in dollars. The three Englishmen looked at each other. The amount he quoted, according to their rough calculations of dollars against sterling, was just a bit over the ten thousand pounds they had received from Charles.

'That's a hell of a lot of money,' Billy said and blew out his cheeks. 'We could buy a boat ourselves for that.'

'But could you sail it to Hong Kong?' Nathaniel responded quickly. Kostos then listed out the individual costs of fuel, food, harbour fees and some of the other ancillary items. 'And we have to get back,' Nathaniel added.

Justin sighed, then said, 'We do have a problem with the bank in town. They will only pay us out a certain amount in dollars at any one time. They wouldn't let us draw out that amount in one go.'

'We can wait,' Nathaniel replied quickly.

'We explained to your father earlier that every day we stay here it costs us more in hotel expenses,' Billy said.

Nathaniel lifted his shoulders in a shrug and spread his arms out wide. 'But I repeat, if we cannot make any money out of it there is no point in us going. If we are going to lose money on the trip we are better off sitting here doing nothing!'

The three Englishmen stared at him. It was Justin who broke the silence. 'What if we paid you two thousand dollars up front and the same amount at each port along the way. That way, if we don't pay you at any port, you would not take us on any further. That seems fair to me.'

Zachary and Nathaniel looked at each other warily. 'Can you cash your money at any port?' Nathaniel asked.

'If there is a bank there, yes,' Justin replied. 'We can cable the money ahead each time. That way we would be able to manage our money more easily.'

Nathaniel gabbled at his father in their native language. Zachary responded in the same manner. Their dialogue continued for some moments before Zachary looked back towards the three Englishmen, and said. 'My son says he is not happy. He thinks we will lose money on the trip. He also asks why you do not travel to Hong Kong on a proper cruise liner? For that amount of money he says you could get tickets on a comfortable passenger liner.'

It was Justin who spoke next. 'Yes we could do that,' he said, 'but that was not the purpose of this trip. None of us wanted the luxury of a cruise liner. We wanted to do this journey as sailors. It's a once in a lifetime thing that we've all wanted to do since we were young.'

Again nobody spoke for some moments. Nathaniel lit up another cigarette. 'Ok,' Zachary said eventually. 'My son and I we talk some more about it tonight. Have you a mobile telephone?' The Englishmen confirmed their number. 'Then I call you as soon as we have decided.'

'If we are going to sail with you we have to order the money from the bank, which may take a day or two,' Justin said. 'And as I said before, every day here costs us more money.'

'I know that,' Zachary said. 'And I promise you that I phone you before midnight tonight. You have my word.' Nathaniel said nothing more. The three Englishmen left the Addela.

* * * * *

A small restaurant near the harbour was their evening dining location. Billy and Damien didn't really believe that the Greeks would take them on to Hong Kong. 'The young one doesn't seem up for it,' Billy said.

'We have to give them time,' Justin responded. 'We know it's one hell of a journey and we've only sprung it on them today. Perhaps they could pick up some cargo at Hong Kong to pay for their return. We have to give them time to think it all out.' His mobile was placed alongside his plate as he ate. Periodically he kept picking it up and inspecting the screen to see if he had missed a call. It turned out to be a long evening. As the midnight hour approached they were still supping the remains of their wine, and puffing on cigars.

'I said nothing would come of this,' Billy said looking at his watch.

'Patience,' Justin replied stoically.

Then at about five minutes past midnight Justin's mobile jingled out its silly answering tune. Their three bodies jumped in unison as though they had all received an electric shock. Justin's fingers fumbled with the button. 'Hello,' he shouted anxiously into the mouthpiece. The other two sat up in their seats, trying to listen in. Justin was nodding his head, while repeating, 'Yes, yes and, Ok,' into the phone. It was some minutes before the call ended.

'Well?' Damien asked.

'They're prepared to take us, but they want two thousand five hundred dollars up front and to reassess the final price when we get to Singapore.'

### CHAPTER SIX

It was another four days before the Addela eventually put out from Heraklion. The bank in town needed three days to arrange the required currency. In the interim the Greeks prevaricated further about the supplies and associated costs. However, the three Englishmen were finally on board as the vessel puttered along to the fuel pumps at the mouth of the harbour. Justin waited until he saw the petrol flow into the boat's tanks before he handed over the cash. By then all their possessions were aboard, including three recently purchased large suitcases stuffed with clothes and the packets of Semtex. It was late in the afternoon as the vessel rounded the Fortress of Roca al Mare and out into the Mediterranean.

By then the Miranda was well on its way down the Red Sea, heading for Djibouti. There were no major problems in the Suez Canal except for having to dodge the fully loaded ocean going freight monsters coming the other way. It had taken longer than expected as they had to wait up a long time to complete the documentation for the customs at the collection point. Apart from the high temperatures, their journey up to that point had been amazingly trouble free. Alicia had managed to fit in well with the three men and was an able member of the crew. Once they were through the Canal they ran into rough, choppy seas and high winds, making sailing hard work.

Careful watch was still required to avoid the many other big ships, but halfway down the Red Sea the weather calmed, which gave Charles some time to ponder over the voyage accounts. He broached the matter with Lawrence and Robert one evening, over a pre-dinner drink, while Alicia was finishing the cooking. 'I don't want to diddle them, but in turn I'm loathe to release too much money in case we run into difficulties,' he said as he sipped a cool gin and tonic. 'So far we've been lucky and had no problems.'

'I'm surprised, in view of all the trouble they've caused that you're sending them any more money at all,' Lawrence responded.

'Well it's their money,' Charles said. 'I can't cheat them out of it.'

'Wasn't it agreed before we left that we'd have a final split up of the money when the voyage was over,' Robert said. 'Can't you leave it till then.'

'I could, but then we'd be using their money to fund our voyage.'

'Serve them right, I'd say,' Robert said.

Charles thought some more about the matter while they ate dinner. Afterwards when they were gathered on the settees in the saloon he said to them all. 'I've decided to release another ten thousand pounds to the others, if that's all right with you.'

The other three looked at him sceptically. Robert lifted his eyes to look up at the ceiling. 'That's a hefty chunk Charles. Are you sure?' he commented.

'Well that's their lot,' Charles replied. 'That's all they're going to get. I don't want them coming back for more when this trip is over. I'll make that plain when I text them if I get your approval. I can bank the money to their account when we get to Djibouti. Do you all agree?'

'You're the skipper,' Lawrence said, Robert nodded his head.

* * * * *

The journey on the Addela was not going quite as peacefully. When the engines were on full throttle, fumes infiltrated the saloon and cabins, which caused the Englishmen to feel nauseous. Damien suffered particularly badly in that respect. They asked Zachary to turn the engine down a little, but his response was that they needed to go at that speed to reach their destinations before the supplies ran out. The food they ate was greasier and richer than they were normally accustomed to and added to their stomach problems. Nathaniel remained antagonistic towards them. When he addressed them his words were curt, short and bad tempered. His continual smoking also caused further irritation. So all in all it was not a happy ship.

Reaching the anchoring stop for the Suez Canal was their first practical effort of combined seamanship and the Englishmen fared badly. Then they had to wait up for a long time waiting for passage. Tempers became frayed. Nathaniel's caustic comments became more belligerent and he continually swore at them under his breath in Greek.

Compared to the cruise-like atmosphere on board the Miranda, with its featured creature comforts, life on the Addela was a big culture shock for the Englishmen. She was a rough and ready boat. They were already regretting their decision. Constantly they bickered amongst themselves, and with the two Greeks.

'Do you think we should try and find another boat at Djibouti?' Billy said to Justin on one occasion when they were alone together.

'I think it's a bit early for that,' Justin replied. 'Hong Kong is still a very long way from there. If we are going to change ship we'd be better to do it somewhere closer to Hong Kong, maybe Singapore. That way we'd have more chance of finding another boat to take us the rest of the way.'

'H'm,' Billy responded. 'I don't know how much longer I can stand these guys without blowing my top. I'd like to knock that bugger Nathaniel's block off.'

'Just stick with it Bill. We knew it wasn't going to be easy,' Justin said.

'I know that, but I've got Damien on my back as well.' Justin just looked at him and said nothing more.

* * * * *

Meanwhile, the Miranda had reached Djibouti. The Red Sea was stormy down the last stretch so entering the shelter of the large harbour inlet brought welcome relief. The port there dates back over three and a half thousand years. It not only serves as a French naval base, but is also a container terminal, linking Europe, the Far East, the Horn of Africa and the Persian Gulf. The adjacent shipping lanes are amongst the busiest in the world. Huge oil storage facilities for Total and Mobil Oil, dominated the dockside. The surrounding countryside is one part African, one part Arabic. The landscape inland has almost a lunar aspect.

Alicia was in awe at the sheer bulk of the ships they sailed close to as they entered the port. 'Oh my Lord what happens if we run into one of these?' she said to Charles. They were standing together in the cockpit, looking up at a giant oil tanker looming towards them.

'We'd sink,' he replied with a chuckle. 'The secret is not to run into them.'

'But that one,' she said pointing across, 'is getting very close.'

'Do you want to steer?' Charles said still chuckling.

'No thank you. Not likely,' Alicia responded.

The stifling heat, the smell of refuse and oil, the exotic colours and bodily shapes of the people, the barren terrain, were all alien to them. As they went about their docking tasks they felt nervous and self-conscious. The Miranda's glistening elegance was in stark contrast to most of the other boats in the harbour. They soon became a focal point for the many people constantly milling close by on the quayside. Forklift trucks, stacked with bulging, untidily stacked cargo, scurried by in reckless abandon, while traders noisily bargained their wares. To the English this was not only another continent, it was another world; unlike anything they had ever known before.

Charles needed to visit the harbour office to arrange supplies and fuel. There was also the matter of the bank transfer to complete. So Lawrence, Robert and Alicia remained on board, feeling vulnerable and unsure of themselves. They all agreed it was not a location to hang about in for too long.

* * * * *

After a long wait the Addela was eventually allowed into the Suez Canal. For the Englishmen it was a relief to be on the move again. A pilot had come on board and his presence, at least for a while, broke up the endless bickering. The water in the Canal, except for the wash of the giant ships that passed, was calm and for the first time the three of them were able to relax a little and enjoy the weather. Justin received a text on his mobile from Charles informing him that the balance of their money had been forwarded to their bank account. It also confirmed that an e-mail was in the pipeline explaining the make-up of the sum involved.

'How do we know it's all we're due?' Billy said, when Justin told him the news.

'We won't know that until we dock next and read the e-mail,' Justin responded.

'At Djibouti?' Damien questioned. Justin nodded his head.

The pilot left them at the end of the Canal. Like the Miranda, they too encountered rough seas in the Red Sea, which only served to reactivate the communal attrition.

'I'm bloody glad we're getting to port soon,' Billy said to Justin when Djibouti eventually came in sight. 'I don't know how much more of this I can stand.'

'Don't get your hopes up too much,' Justin replied, 'according to Captain Kostos we won't be stopping long. He says the harbour fees here are expensive.'

Billy raised his eyebrows but said nothing more.

In comparison to the massive tankers around them the Addela was a tiny dot. The Englishmen's apprehension increased when they saw the surroundings of their docking station. They had wanted to stay in Djibouti for three days, to rest up, but Zachary said that was impossible on the budget. 'We will have time to re-fuel and restock, that's all,' he countered when they protested.

'What will you do if we book into a hotel for a stay?' Billy said.

'We will go home without you,' Nathaniel cut in.

Billy glared at him. 'We have to go into town to get your money,' Justin said.

'Well we can only afford one days harbour fee,' Zachary reiterated. 'No more!'

And so that was that. The Englishmen went into town to organise the money. Like the crew of the Miranda, they too found the constant forty degree plus temperatures almost unbearable. They ate a meal at a Chinese restaurant; bought a few provisions for themselves, downloaded Charles' e-mail onto Justin's laptop, and then agreed that 'there was not a hell of a lot they could find to do for three days in a town like this, anyway,' as Damien remarked. They all returned to the Addela feeling bloody minded and bloody miserable.

* * * * *

Whilst that was happening the Miranda was carefully edging her way into the Indian Ocean. According to the weather information violent storms were expected in the area. Charles kept a cautious watch on the radar. 'I don't like the look of this,' he said to Alicia one afternoon, while pointing at the ominous swirls on the screen. 'If that lot hits us we're in trouble.'

'Would we do better to lay up for a while?' she asked.

'If we lay up it's still going to hit us. My feeling is that we'd be better making a run for it. At the moment it's all behind us. I'll check with the coastguard.' He spent ten minutes on the radio and then gathered the other three in the cockpit.

'I've spoken to the weather people,' he said. 'The verdict is that this storm is going to hit us sometime early morning tomorrow. I think our best bet is to try and get the hell out of here now. It'll mean sailing through the night but if you guys feel up for it I'm willing to give it a go.'

Three worried faces stared back at Charles. 'We'll continue to be guided by you,' Lawrence said eventually breaking the silence. The other two nodded their heads in agreement.

'Well I thank you for your trust,' Charles chuckled in response. 'I just hope I've got it right. We'd better put everything we've got out up top and let's see how fast this tub will really go.'

Charles made them attach lifelines before they commenced any work. On deck rain was beginning to spit intermittently. Using the electronic apparatus it didn't take long for them to get what they needed into position. Then almost instantly, like a Porsche responding to a tweak of the accelerator, the Miranda surged ahead on full power. Alicia shrieked with excitement, 'Charles, will we be safe?' she called out over the sound of the crashing sea.

'Don't know,' he responded shouting. 'We'll soon find out though. I think it will be safer than staying here anyway.'

The speed of the boat was exhilarating. Excited animation on the faces of the three of them replaced what had been tired, drawn expressions. Time alone would tell if Charles's judgement had been correct. The sky behind him was deathly black, but at least they were flying on a tail wind.

Working on the boat at that speed was exhausting. Every action made their muscles ache. Sometimes just trying to stand upright was difficult. Each task took longer than before. When darkness set in Charles suggested they slow up for a while to take on some food. So they each took turns at the wheel, while the others sat and ate. Behind them the awful sky appeared to be catching up. The radar screen looked alarming. As soon as they'd finished their food Charles got them going again. Through the night they powered on. The sea became rougher, forcing them to trim some of the sails. By first light it looked as though they'd just about escaped the worst of the danger. 'We may have just beaten the bugger,' Charles said when Alicia brought him some coffee. 'We're going to have to keep on like this for a while though. I don't want that bastard catching us up,' he said and pointed behind. She looked at him proudly. Sri Lanka was still a long way off.

* * * * *

The Addela and her crew were not so fortunate. Being a few days behind the Miranda meant that they sailed right into the heart of the storm. As soon as they were out in the Indian Ocean proper, a vortex of clouds began to hover menacingly on all sides. The previously calm sea turned into forty foot churning waves; the wind speed soon hit one hundred and forty knots. The boat neither possessed the power or the stability to cope adequately in those conditions. The Englishmen became frightened. Keeping their feet became a nightmare. Their seasickness returned. Zachary heard on the radio that they were heading straight into the centre of a category four cyclone.

'There's no way we can go through that,' he said while his hands fought with the wheel. 'We wouldn't survive. This boat is not built for those conditions,' he told them. They were all gathered together in the cockpit. The sound of the wind and waves was alarming. 'We will have to go south,' he continued. 'The coastguard says the weather is a little better down there.'

'Will that delay us?' Billy asked.

'Of course it will delay us!' Nathaniel cut in acidly.

'I'm afraid we have no choice,' Zachary said with a reluctant shrug of his shoulders. 'We may be able to lay up down there for a while until it passes.'

And so that's what they did. They went south, and west, to try and escape the storm. Unfortunately that took them into Somali waters.

### CHAPTER SEVEN

Having escaped the worst of the conditions the Miranda was able to sail on for Sri Lanka, although most of the time a gale constantly raged and the sea churned and roared all day and all night. The crew became very tired. Charles insisted that they kept lifelines on when on deck. It was only the strength and stability of the Miranda that saved their bodies from a real battering. Their station was slap bang in the middle of the Indian Ocean, past any point of return. They were still unable to anchor safely at night, which became constantly stressful. They took two hour watches not four.

'I don't know how much longer I can carry on like this,' Alicia said to Charles one dark stormy night, when they were alone together in the cockpit. He looked at her and noticed the strain on her face. He placed his arm around her shoulders.

'I know,' he said, trying to sound comforting. 'I said it would be hard with just the four of us.'

'How many days before we reach Sri Lanka?' Alicia asked. Charles shook his head and sighed.

'At this speed at least another two, three, or maybe more. If the storm clears, we can put more up top, which could reduce the time, but not by much.' He sighed again. 'There are a few small islands off India. The Amindivi Islands, but I don't know what port facilities they have there. We could go down to the Maldives but that would take us off track and make this leg even longer. Unfortunately I feel we've got no alternative but to press on as we are. If it's all getting too much we could review the situation at Sri Lanka and call it a day there. There's a good harbour at Mirissa.' Alicia put her hand on Charles' arm and gave him a weak smile.

* * * * *

On the Addela all hell was breaking loose. The Englishmen's tormented limbs constantly ached from the churning and pounding of the sea. Their bodies were weary and unwashed. Food became a commodity they neither wanted or desired. Each of them wanted to crawl into a hole and die. Arguments were continuous. Billy and Nathaniel had to be physically separated by the others on more than one occasion. 'We are not going to survive if we continue to behave like this,' Zachary shouted when the two protagonists squared up to each other again in the cockpit.

'Is there any way of getting out of this sea?' Justin asked Zachary after the rumpus between Billy and Nathaniel had settled down.

'Only by going a long way south,' Zachary replied. 'But that would take us way off our intended course. Then we'd have to get more fuel, which would mean going into Mogadishu. God knows what that place is like. We'd probably get murdered there for our troubles.'

'Well what do we do?' Justin responded.

'We've just got to keep going slowly on this course and try and sit it out. The storm will stop sometime,' Zachary said.

And so the Addela chugged slowly southwards. All around them the sky remained black, dark and gloomy. Mountainous waves made it impossible to see more than a short distance away.

So it was one hell of a shock to suddenly see another boat on the crest of a wave, not far away, on the starboard side. Damien spotted it first. 'What the hell's that?!'' They all turned to look. Through the gloom, about sixty metres away, riding one of the massive waves, was another vessel, part sail, part motorised. A mast on the stern displayed a Somalian flag. On the foredeck, what looked like a big whaling gun stood out threateningly.

'Oh bloody hell,' Justin said.

'Pirates?' Billy questioned.

They could see the name 'Sara' in bold letters on the side of the other vessel's foredeck. She gradually caught up and cruised parallel to them at a distance. Both boats continued to roll precariously in the incessant waves.

'She's coming this way,' Nathaniel said next.

'Oh Lord,' Damien responded.

'Just keep calm,' Zachary said. 'There's no way they could board us in this sea.'

However, very slowly, the Sara closed in on the Addela at a forty five degree angle.

'Go away you bastards,' Billy shouted out and shook his fist in their direction. Nathaniel looked at him disdainfully.

When they were near, the cockpit door of Sara opened and out stepped a tall, thin dark skinned man, wearing a yellow oilskin top. He was attached to a lifeline. Then, from inside someone passed him a rifle.

'What the bloody hell now?' Billy said. His question was answered almost instantly. The man pointed what appeared to be an AKM assault rifle in the air, aimed it over the top of the Addela, and fired two rounds.

'Christ almighty!!' Damien exclaimed as he ducked his head. 'They're going to kill us. Have we got any guns?'

'That was just a warning shot,' Zachary said calmly. 'They won't try to kill us. Not yet anyway. The only weapon we have is this,' he added and from a small cupboard, with a pull down flap, in front of the wheel, he pulled out a Luger pistol, which was clipped inside. Slowly he turned the weapon around in his hand. 'That thing they've got on their bow could blow us out of the water in a second,' he commented while still contemplating the Luger.

The man on the Sara passed the rifle back inside the cockpit, then unfurled a white flag, with numbers written on it in bold black letters.

'That's a short wave radio frequency,' Zachary said. The man on the Sara holding the flag put his hand to his ear, to indicate a call.

'Looks like they want to speak to us on that frequency,' Nathaniel said and moved towards the short wave radio. 'Yazoo, yazoo,' he shouted into the microphone while revolving the dial.

Crackling sounds emitted from the speakers, until a voice responded, 'Yazoo Addela. Are you OK?'

Nathaniel replied that they were fine and asked what they wanted. The caller said in stuttering English that they were the Somalian coastguard and wanted to guide them into safer waters.

'A likely tale,' Zachary said quietly. 'Tell them we are OK and we can manage by ourselves,' he said to Nathaniel, who related the message down the radio. The caller insisted that the Addela was to take a route south and west. They were given a bearing to sail on. The man said that if they didn't keep to the bearing he would have to take further action. 'You are in Somali waters,' he proclaimed, 'and you are breaking Somali law.' He added that they would be listening out on all their frequencies. 'Any attempt to contact other outside agencies could result in trouble,' he stated ominously.

The Englishmen all looked at Zachary. 'We can do nothing but do as they ask,' he responded. 'We can't outrun them, and we certainly can't outgun them.'

'We just can't give in,' Billy responded. 'They may take us as hostages, and if nobody pays up, they'll kill us.'

'Well what bright ideas have you got?' Nathaniel exclaimed vehemently.

Billy looked at the other two Englishmen, 'I'm not sure at the moment,' he replied.

'Well whatever idea you have, I hope you come up with it soon,' Nathaniel shouted.

The Sara had slowed down and continued to track them. The sea and the sky all around remained violent. The Addela was riding the incessant waves like a bucking bronco gone berserk. Zachary and Nathaniel were struggling to keep their boat on the prescribed course.

Damien suggested they used their mobiles to call for help.

'You heard what they said they'd do if another vessel came to our aid,' Zachary said. 'Soon we'll be well into Somali waters and there's no chance of any rescue inside that zone.'

'If we are going to die I can't see it makes much difference,' Billy said. Nathaniel looked at him, shrugged his shoulders, and made no reply.

To avoid more confrontation the Englishmen precariously picked their way down the stairway to the saloon. 'We have to try and phone someone at home,' Damien said as soon as they were below. Billy mentioned that his solicitor's number was on his mobile. Justin suggested they phone their wives. Damien said he'd phone his father.

'There is something else I've thought of,' Billy said next.

'I know what you're going to say,' Justin cut in, 'I've thought about it too.'

Damien looked up at them both.

'As a last resort,' Billy began, 'In our suitcases we have the means to blow that boat behind us out of the water.'

'But how would we use the stuff?' Justin asked.

'Haven't a clue,' Billy responded. 'But if we are going to use it we'd have to tell the Greeks. They may know how to set it off. If the Somalians boarded us I wondered if that might be the time to use the Semtex. Their boat would be close enough. Whether we just throw the damn stuff onto their boat deck or what I don't know, but it could be a way out. It's something they wouldn't have bargained for.'

'Let's keep it in mind then,' Damien said, 'but I think we ought to do some phoning first.'

So each of them sat in different corners of the saloon and began to telephone. Many numbers didn't connect. They were out of range. Damien did however get through to his father, who promised to go and see the local police. Billy was able to rouse a few of his business contacts. Collectively they were on their phones for some time.

In the cockpit Zachary and Nathaniel were receiving more radio messages from the Sara. They wanted to know how many people were on board. They were asked if they were carrying any weapons. What was their planned destination? Why were they going there, the Somali's questioned? The voice said they would need to board the Addela, to check out the boat, as soon as they got into calmer waters. In the meantime they were instructed to maintain the course they were on. At that time, all around them, the sea, the sky and the wind continued to remain violent, preventing an immediate boarding party. Keeping the boat on its prescribed course though was still a major exercise for the two Greeks. They took turns at the wheel but they were becoming exhausted with the effort. Sea water constantly spewed across the foredeck and into the cockpit, soaking their feet and legs.

In the saloon the Englishmen made coffee and took some upstairs for the Greeks. Zachary, who was resting at the time, brought them up to date on the pirates instructions. Billy mentioned that they'd managed to contact people at home. 'How long before we get into calmer seas?' he asked.

Zachary slid the radar screen over the surrounding area. 'Can't say accurately,' he said. 'Maybe a few hours, maybe less, it all depends on the wind.'

Their situation was unlike anything any of the Englishmen had ever experienced. They'd all read newspaper reports about the activities of the Somalian Pirates and seen the relative TV footage, but this was for real. They were stranded on a small boat, in hostile waters, with two Greek men who owed them no favours. Billy had mentioned to the other Englishmen that it wouldn't be beyond the realms of possibility for the Greeks to use them as a bargaining tool for their own release.

### CHAPTER EIGHT

It was somewhere around that point in time that my involvement in these events began. I was working as an agent for MI6 and for some weeks I had been on the trail of a large cargo of Semtex that had gone missing from a civil defence storage unit at Corbas, near Lyon, in France. Semtex had regularly been used by the IRA, al-Qaeda and most of the other major terrorist organisations throughout the world. It had also been instrumental on the Pan-Am plane that was blown up over Lockerbie in 1988. So when a large quantity of it went missing all the security set-ups in Western Europe were on alert.

The trail I was following at the time had petered out. Our feeling was that the original cargo had been split up into smaller parcels somewhere in transit, so those of us involved had set off in different directions. My lead had led me to a full stop at Gibraltar. I was convinced though that somehow a quantity of the stuff had entered the town. In those days Semtex was not difficult to disguise when going through customs, and entry facilities into Gibraltar were pretty relaxed.

I had been hanging around the place for a few days getting nowhere. Then I had a stroke of luck. One lunchtime I was in a bar having some tapas and a drink when in walked someone I recognised from a long time ago. Charlie Mayhew was an old lag of a criminal who I had crossed swords with, in the line of business, many years before. He'd done time for various bouts of robbery, but in his heyday he had absconded to Spain, during the years when there was no extradition treaty between Spain and the UK. I was part of the task force who'd tracked him down and brought him back to Britain. I later found out that he'd gone back to live in Spain after serving his sentence.

He stopped at the bar near where I was sitting. 'Hello Charlie,' I called across. At first he looked horror struck when he saw me, then slowly a sly smile crossed his face. The hair was much greyer and more wispy than I'd remembered. He'd always been slight, but now he looked skinny in a hollow-cheeked way. The years hadn't been kind. He'd ordered a beer and when it was ready he moved over towards me.

'Mister Naysmith,' he said, 'fancy seeing you in these parts,' and half raised his glass in toast.

'It's a small world Charlie, as we both know,' I responded. 'Are you living here now?'

'Na!' he replied. 'I live on the coast near Marbella. I'm just here on a decorating job. It's what I do now.' His clothes were dotted with paint stains.

I didn't pursue the matter further. What he did was his business and I wasn't one to pry unnecessarily. I asked him if he'd care to join me. I said the drink he was holding in his hand was on me. 'Just for old times sake,' I added. He laughed; a scoundrel's laugh. Two of his front teeth were missing.

'What about you Mister Naysmith? You here on business or pleasure?'

'Business I'm afraid Charlie. Shame though with this good weather. I envy you living round these parts at our time of life.' He chuckled again and raised his glass in toast, more fully this time.

I went on to tell him the purpose of my visit. It wasn't a secret and I guessed Charlie may still have underworld connections, even if he wasn't involved. I arranged for him to have some food and another beer. We talked about the Semtex. I emphasised what a vicious product it was in the wrong hands, and told him about some of the more dastardly deeds where it had been used. He listened and sympathised. 'You wouldn't catch me doing anything like that,' he said, 'even in my bad old days.'

At that first meeting we spent about half an hour together before he said that he would have to get back to work. During that time I had however, managed to interest him in my quest. He promised to have a word with a few of the 'lads', to see what he could find out for me. We arranged to meet again in the same bar at the end of the week.

In all honesty I didn't really expect him to turn up, but when I arrived in the bar on the Friday lunchtime he was already there. Surprisingly he greeted me like an old friend, shaking my hand. 'I've got some news for you,' he said almost instantly, with a sparkle in his eye. I ordered some lunch for both of us and we sat down together at a table.

He told me he'd been working on that particular decorating job for some months and during that time he'd 'bumped into' a few of his old mates around the bars in town and 'you know what gossip is like amongst us lot,' he added with another wry smile. He went on to emphasise that he had nothing to do with Semtex. 'I swear to you Mister N I'm strictly straight now. I spent enough of my life in the 'Scrubs' to last me for ever.'

The rumour was, he said, that a group of Arabs had brought the cargo into town and sold it onto some Englishmen who'd then sailed off in a big flashy yacht. He didn't know its name, but they'd know it at the harbour,' he said.

By the time we'd finished our lunch he had to get back to work. I thanked him profusely and gave him my mobile number. 'If you ever need a favour Charlie,' I said, 'can't promise anything, but at least you can call me.'

'I'll remember that Mister N,' he said, then he was gone.

After I'd paid the bill I made my way down to the harbour. I had already met the harbourmaster when I'd first arrived, hoping he may have known something about the Semtex.

'Yes I remember the yacht,' he said in reply to my query. 'Beautiful thing. You don't see many of those around. The owner seemed a straight up guy to me, but I guess you never know nowadays. I'll look up the name for you now.' He went to his computer screen and clicked through a couple of programmes. 'Here it is. Miranda is the name. The owner is Charles Meredith, lives in England, and the boat's registered at Falmouth. From what I recall there were about half a dozen people on board.'

'Do you know where they were making for?' I asked.

'Heraklion on Crete was going to be their next stop, but I recall the man Meredith telling me that they hoped to make Hong Kong. At the time I remember thinking, that's a hell of a long voyage.'

I also checked with him to see if any customs had boarded the boat while it was in the harbour. He said they hadn't, so I thanked him for his time and went quickly back to my hotel room. Soon I was busy on my laptop contacting my HQ. I wanted everything they had on the Miranda and this man Charles Meredith. I also wanted to know anything they could glean about the voyage and who else was on board. Somebody would need to go down to Falmouth to scout around and ask questions.

It took the best part of a day for all the information to drift back to me. The details on Charles Meredith and the Miranda were fairly instant. It was confirmed that he was a wealthy man who'd made his fortune in telecommunications. Nothing untoward had ever been recorded against him. The Miranda was acquired after he sold his business to BT. Contacts revealed that he and his wife were both away sailing on the yacht and confirmed that they were hoping to make Hong Kong their destination. To kill time, while I was awaiting further details, I went back to the harbour and asked questions amongst the harbour police and the customs officers, but nothing of any consequence was confirmed.

The next day I had another bit of luck. Our man, who'd been to Falmouth, discovered that on board the Miranda was Billy Tennant. Now, Billy Tennant was known to us. He didn't exactly have form, but over the years there had been many activities relating to his import/export business that we'd delved into. There were no prosecutions, mostly because the leads in every case came to a dead end; Billy always covered his tracks well. However, there remained suspicions attached to a lot of his dealings.

These revelations gave me the impetus I needed. Then, next day, another piece of luck came my way. My HQ came back to me with news of a possible hijack of a boat in Somali waters. My people confirmed that one of the men on board could be Billy Tennant.

So then I was left with a conundrum. Was the boat in Somali waters the Miranda, or another vessel. If it was the Miranda she was a long way off the likely route for Hong Kong? If it was another vessel why was Billy Tennant on it, not on the Miranda? Quickly I got back onto my laptop to work on the information. The one good thing about our organisation is having contacts all over the world. Generally it doesn't take long to confirm facts.

There were records of the Miranda docking at Heraklion, then going through the Suez Canal and afterwards registering at Djibouti. At that time there weren't any more details about the possible hijacking. It seems that some confused phone calls had been made to family members, from a boat, which had been passed onto the local police. They, in turn had contacted the Foreign Office. The FO though had received no positive confirmation of anything, so at that juncture they hadn't got too involved.

I knew that if the Miranda had left Djibouti, and was still heading for Hong Kong, she would, by then, be somewhere in the middle of the Indian Ocean, which would make tracking her down difficult. So in an attempt to keep on top of the leads and pick up what information I could along the way, I booked onto a flight bound for Crete. Knowing Billy Tennant was involved, I had a hunch there was a chance I could be back on the trail of the Semtex.

* * * * *

On the Addela matters were becoming as traumatic as the raging elements around them. They continued to be tailed by the Somalian boat. The sea remained mountainous and the gale continued to rage. Periodically they were contacted by the boat Sara on the short wave radio. Continually the Somalians reiterated that they wished to board the Addela as soon as they were in calmer waters. They also kept stressing that they were the Somalian Coastguard and that their action was quite within their legal rights.

'Should we resist or just comply with what they want?' Damien asked the others.

'I don't really see what we can do in the way of resistance,' Zachary replied. 'We've only got the pistol and even if we picked one of them off, they're bound to have greater fire-power than us. I expect they've got grenades as well as the rifles on board and there's also that blunderbuss on the bow. We wouldn't have a chance if it came to a real gunfight.'

'But if we surrender they'll either kill us for the boat or take us as hostages for a ransom,' Billy said.

'We haven't got any money to pay a ransom,' Nathaniel cut in, 'and the Greek government won't pay up. They're more in debt than we are,' he added sarcastically.

The three Englishmen looked at each other. They knew of course that they and their families did have money. If they were held as hostages their families would be forced to pay up to obtain their release. 'Shall I tell them our idea?' Billy said looking at the other two Englishmen. It took a few moments, but eventually Damien and Justin nodded in the affirmative.

'We didn't want to tell you this,' Billy began, 'but we do have something on board which could help us if it came to a dog fight.'

The two Greeks stared at him wide-eyed. 'What do you mean? Have you smuggled a German Shepherd dog on board?' Nathaniel questioned with a sneer.

'Not quite,' Billy responded and chuckled nervously. 'Something with a bit more bite than that actually.'

There were more moments of silence. The Greeks were still struggling to keep the boat upright and on course. Billy still debated with himself whether to tell them the whole truth or not. He knew however that if they were going to use the Semtex the Greeks would have to be involved.

'You're not going to like this one little bit,' he began, 'but as we're all in this predicament together I might as well tell you now.' The Greeks both turned to look at him. 'Down below, in our suitcases, we have some packets of Semtex,' Billy said hesitatingly.

He watched the expression on the faces of Greeks change as he spoke the words. A mixture of incredulity, astonishment, amazement, and finally anger, flashed across their features in a matter of seconds. He thought for a moment that Nathaniel was either going to explode with rage or fly at him physically. In the end he did neither. The Greek man's face eventually broke into a cynical, knowing, half smile. 'I knew from the outset there was something not right about these men,' he said looking at his father while nodding his head like a wise sage. 'I told you so from the beginning,' he added.

His father nodded back at him. 'Yes you did,' Zachary said. 'You were quite right. You have deceived us then,' he said next, reverting to the Englishmen. 'You could have got us killed or put in jail. Semtex is a very dangerous cargo.'

'Well we are all in real danger now,' Billy answered. Justin and Damien looked embarrassed and shuffled from one foot to the other. 'Maybe this wretched stuff will prove to be our saviour.'

'But that would involve having to kill all the people on that boat,' Zachary said pointing in the direction of the Sara. 'No way would I be party to that. We are in enough trouble without that.'

'Do you think they would be so kind to us if it came to a showdown?' Billy responded.

Zachary shook his head. 'I don't know. At this moment I don't know what to think. I am having enough trouble keeping this boat afloat and on the course they have set us.' Nathaniel took over at the wheel. 'We are in a desperate situation,' Zachary continued, 'and you people are the reason for that,' he added angrily while pointing towards the Englishmen.

'I think that's grossly unfair,' Billy retorted. 'The weather is not our fault. Pirates appearing out of nowhere are not our fault. If they hadn't appeared we would never have told you about the Semtex.'

At that moment the Addela crashed downwards into the hollows of an enormous wave, causing her to lurch alarmingly to one side. For a moment they all wondered if she was going to keel over. The wheel spun out of Nathaniel's hands. He tumbled to the floor, cursing loudly as he fell. Then a huge wave of sea water spewed over the outer deck. Somehow the Addela righted herself. The Greeks managed to regain control of the wheel. Nathaniel shouted out vehemently, 'If it wasn't for you fuckers we wouldn't be here in the first place.'

'But you accepted the commission,' Billy shouted back. 'Nobody forced you to.' He was clinging onto a rail in the cockpit, trying to keep himself upright.

'I said we shouldn't have,' Nathaniel yelled in reply. All of them were staggering about like drunks on an ice rink.

'We wouldn't have taken the job if we'd known it involved criminal activities,' Zachary said a little more calmly. 'The customs could have boarded us anywhere and we would all have been put in jail.'

The Addela eventually rolled out of the wave. The Englishmen looked behind for the other boat. For a few moments it was out of sight, but then like a boil on their necks, she reappeared on the crest of the enormous wave they had just passed through. The Englishmen looked resigned and they all sighed heavily.

'Well whatever,' Damien said. 'It doesn't alter our predicament at this moment. We talked about it when we were down below,' he said pointing towards Billy and Justin. 'If we're captured they will probably hold us all as hostages until somebody pays up. And if nobody pays up, it's likely they'll kill us. And at this moment there's very little chance of anybody finding us and rescuing us in these waters.' Again, for a few moments they all stood staring at each other in silence, so Damien continued. 'All we are saying is that by using this stuff we may have a chance of survival. But you guys have to help us.'

Nobody said anything more for quite some moments. The sea around them was still violent, requiring most of the Greek's attention. The Englishmen kept looking back at the Sara, hoping for a miracle, but nothing changed in that respect.

'What have you in mind with this Semtex?' Zachary said, some minutes later, when the sea had calmed a little.

'We thought that perhaps we could use it when they tried to board us,' Damien said. 'Their boat would be near enough then. We wondered if we could throw it onto their deck to disable them.'

'P'h,' Nathaniel snorted in response. He continued. 'The others who were left on board would still have grenades, probably rocket launchers, and the big gun on the deck. We couldn't avoid all of that. We'd be dead in seconds.'

'How much of this Semtex have you got?' Zachary cut in.

'About fifteen kilos,' Billy replied.

'Jesus Mother!!' Nathaniel shouted. 'We're standing on top of a fucking time bomb.'

'Do you have any detonators?' Zachary asked. The Englishmen looked at each other. For a moment nobody said anything.

'Don't know to be exact,' Billy replied. 'There are some other packages, which we haven't opened.'

'Holy mother!!' Nathaniel swore again. 'You do know what you're dealing with here do you? This is live dynamite. It's a miracle you haven't blown us up a long time ago.' The Englishmen all looked abashed and made no reply.

'Were you going to sell it in Hong Kong?' Zachary asked.

'That was the intention,' Billy replied. Another big wave hit the side of the Addela, which caused him to stagger sideways.

'Ha!' Nathaniel spat out. There was more silence between them, broken only by the sound of rain, lashing like grit on the cockpit windows.

'Nathaniel you'd better go down below and see what we have got on board with us,' Zachary said when the rolling of the boat had eased somewhat. 'Be very careful how you handle it though. In this rough water anything could happen if it gets knocked about.'

Nathaniel shook his head in amazement and led the way down below, muttering to himself in Greek. Zachary said one of the Englishmen had better stay in the cockpit with him in case there was more communication from the Sara, so Damien stayed up top.

The three were gone for some time. The sea remained storm tossed. As they travelled south however, the sky did lighten a little. Zachary knew that meant they would soon be into calmer waters and have to face the imminent prospect of a boarding party. Eventually Nathaniel led the two Englishmen back up into the cockpit. The three of them were embroiled in an argument.

'Well?' Zachary said when they were all gathered.

'There's enough explosive down there to blow up half the ships in the ocean,' Nathaniel said. 'These men are idiots!' The Englishmen again looked down at their feet.

'Are there any detonators?' Zachary asked next. For a few seconds nobody said anything.

'Yes, there are enough,' Nathaniel replied caustically.

'I don't see any way of using the Semtex without killing all of them,' Zachary said. 'At the first explosion somebody on that boat will get hold of a gun or a grenade and blast us out of the sea,' he continued. 'And we're not fast enough to get away from them.'

'What about dropping the Semtex behind us like depth charges?' Damien said. 'Wouldn't that stop them?'

'It might,' Zachary replied. 'But that would probably blow the whole boat up and we'd be mass murderers. But if it only partly damaged their ship they'd still come after us. As I've said before they've probably got rocket launchers on board. I just don't see how we would survive.'

'But isn't it a case of them or us surviving?' Billy cut in. The churning waves continued to buffet them all against the walls in the cabin. 'They're the ones who are threatening us.'

'We still don't know that for sure.' Zachary replied while whirling the wheel in his hands. Nathaniel intervened and took over again 'They maintain that they are part of the Somalian Coastguard,' Zachary continued. 'We don't know exactly what they want from us. They may come aboard, see that we're not worth much and let us go on our way. We'd be silly to jump to conclusions.'

'If we didn't have these people on board that's probably what would happen,' Nathaniel said scornfully, pointing at the Englishmen. 'What are we?' he added with a shrug of his shoulders and a wave of his arms. 'Two poor, humble penniless Greeks. But wealthy Englishmen!! That's different. Especially when it comes to a ransom. Maybe they'll let us go and keep the Englishmen? Ha!! That would be very good,' he said spitting the words out and laughing as he did so.

* * * * *

So at that point no firm decision was taken on the matter of the Semtex. As they journeyed south the sea became calmer and gradually only a few cirrus clouds remained in the sky above them. The radar showed the heart of the storm was some distance away. By then the Sara had been on their tail for about an hour and a half. Suddenly a voice crackled over the short wave radio. The Somalis said they wanted to come aboard.

'What do we do now?' Billy said.

'I don't think we have any choice but to wait and see,' Zachary replied.

'You don't think we should use the Semtex then?' Billy responded.

'No I don't. Not at this stage anyway. Let's see what they want first. You'd better go below and make sure it is well hidden,' Zachary said, nodding at Nathaniel, who went below with Billy and Justin. They were not gone long. They'd hidden the Semtex under a small floorboard hatch that gave access to the plumbing ducts.

By the time they were back in the cockpit the Sara was alongside. Two men were on deck bearing AKM rifles, making a motion with their arms for the Addela to stop. One of the men had a loud hailer in his hand.

'Now everybody just try and keep calm,' Zachary said to those in the cockpit. 'We don't want any stupid heroics. And don't make any jerky, silly movements. These men will be trigger-happy until they've sussed us out. They'll probably shout a lot and push us around, but you mustn't respond.'

At that moment another tall, dark skinned man on the Sara, in a green t-shirt and camouflage trousers, moved towards the big gun on the bow and strapped himself into a buggy seat behind the barrel, before aiming it towards the Addela. The one with the loud hailer shouted across for the Addela to cut her engines. Three more men then came on deck and began to lower a dinghy into the water. Their dark, rugged faces were clearly visible. Some wore headscarves, others bandanas. They all carried automatic rifles. The dinghy was powered by an outboard motor and soon covered the short distance between them. One of the men on the dinghy was standing up and called for a rope to be let down, which he then used to pull the dinghy in alongside. Zachary was on deck, standing by the other end of the rope, as the Somalian hauled himself up. The other two remained in the dinghy with their rifles aimed at Zachary.

The Somalian introduced himself as Jamal, then offered his hand for a handshake. He was tall, thin and lithe, with dark crew cut hair. Zachary took the hand reluctantly and said his name. Then in an excitable mixture of pidgin Greek, English and his own native language, Jamal demanded to know how many people were on board and their nationalities. His eyebrows raised at the mention of the three Englishmen. Jamal repeated that they were part of the Somali coastguard and reiterated that they were legally entitled to search the Addela. His friend on the dinghy, who was called Asad, would help in that respect, he said, and noisily called out for him to come up on deck.

When the two of them were together they jabbered at Zachary in a more demanding manner, waving their arms and rifles in concert to their words. Asad was also tall, dark skinned and slim. On his head was a colourful bandana and he was carrying an automatic rifle. When Billy came out onto the outer deck the volume of their voices increased. It became impossible to understand or define what they were saying or wanted. There was more arm waving and shouting. They said they wanted everybody outside on deck. Billy went back into the cockpit to collect the others. Justin and Damien appeared. With sign language Billy tried to indicate that Nathaniel had to hold onto the wheel, to keep the boat steady, which caused more loud, mainly unintelligible vocals from the Somalians.

Using sign language and a concoction of languages, Jamal communicated that he wanted Asad to search the boat. So while he remained on deck, gesturing repeatedly with his rifle, his comrade went inside, shouting at Nathaniel as he passed him in the wheelhouse. When Asad returned from below there was another bout of aggravated dialogue. Jamal demanded their passports. Zachary went below with Asad to fetch them. Afterwards Jamal told them that he and Asad would remain on board the Addela until they reached a Somali port. The third man, who had remained on the dinghy, returned to the Sara, taking the passports with him.

Zachary inquired about fuel. How far would they be travelling, he asked? Jamal replied that they had spare fuel on the Sara if necessary.

### CHAPTER NINE

The Miranda's passage to Sri Lanka was decidedly more peaceful. There were more bouts of rough sea and stormy weather, but by and large matters proceeded smoothly. Tiredness became the major factor. The trip from Djibouti had tested them to the limit of their physical capabilities. As they approached Mirissa, their agreed port of call on the island, the consequences of having such a small crew were clearly evident. It was difficult for all of them to stay awake during their time on watch. Constantly they had to jolly each other along and every task became a slow and laborious process. They'd resisted the temptation to put into Smith Island on the Amindivi's, but agreed to spend longer in Sri Lanka than originally planned.

The harbour at Mirissa is situated on the southern tip of the island. The horseshoe shaped inlet provides safe docking for scores of fishing boats and local dhows. The area is a fisherman's paradise. The nearby Indian Ocean has an abundant supply of tuna from which the locals make a reasonable living. Not far from the harbour are breathtaking sandy bays, with palm trees, lagoons and pleasant smiling, laughing people. After Djibouti and their tiring voyage, and despite the ever present jumble of people around the harbour, it was an ideal place for the crew to rest and recuperate. They took their time docking. In fact once they were tied up they took their time doing everything. The weather on the island was perfect. An on shore breeze prevailed; the sky was light blue, the sea the same colour. For a while it felt like they had found heaven.

* * * * *

For the crew on the Addela desperation was the reality as they journeyed towards the Somalian mainland. Their captors kept up a noisy and aggressive presence in the wheelhouse, while maintaining regular contact with the Sara by radio. They wanted to take the Addela to the port of Eyl, a regular base for pirating activities. When the Englishmen made moves to go down below to the saloon Jamal started to shout vehemently. Billy mimed to indicate that they were going below to prepare a drink and some food. Asad followed them and stood at the bottom of the stairs, where he could watch.

In the galley Billy began to speak quietly to the other Englishmen, while using the boiling kettle to cover his words. 'I still reckon we could use what we have in the suitcases to be rid of this lot,' he said to the other two in a hushed tone.

Damien was nearest to him. 'But we'd have to overpower these two first,' he replied in a similar hushed manner.

'Well?' Billy responded. 'There are five of us and two of them.'

'But they've got the guns,' Damien said, still whispering.

'We've got one as well,' Billy replied. Justin was standing nearby listening. 'At this moment they're apart,' Billy continued, referring to the Somalians. 'If we could distract this guy further into the boat, the three of us could jump on him without the other one knowing.'

Damien and Justin just stood and looked at Billy for some moments without saying anything. Asad yelled words at them which they didn't understand. Billy pointed at the kettle to indicate it hadn't finished boiling.

'What about the Greeks?' Damien whispered.

'They'll just have to fall in with whatever we do. If we are going to do anything we'll have to do it out of sight of the cockpit.'

There were more moments of silence as they all looked at each other. By then the kettle was steaming to a boil.

'What's your idea then?' Damien said to Billy.

Still trying to keep his voice low, while clanking the tea mugs into each other to make more noise, Billy said, 'If I can get to the bedroom, on the pretence of fetching something, maybe this guy will follow me. Down there he will be out of sight of the other one. That might give us the opportunity to jump him.'

Asad was watching them intently.

'It's a big if,' Justin said.

'The alternative is a lengthy period of captivity, probably death, or paying out a fortune in ransom. Which would you prefer?'

'Ok,' Justin interjected. 'Say we overpower these two. In time those on the boat will realise something's amiss and start lobbing bombs at us.'

Asad shouted something incomprehensible at them. Billy gestured back, to see if he wanted one of the teas. The Somalian shouted again, indicating he didn't.

'Firstly we will have bought a little time,' Billy continued. 'Secondly the boat behind isn't going to bomb us if we have their guys here as hostages. All I'm saying is that at this stage anything is worth trying. Just think of the alternatives.'

Again the other two stood silent and looked at him without replying. Billy had finished pouring the tea. Asad was getting edgy; fidgeting about from one foot to the other on the stairway, then going up a rung and then stepping back down again; he looked up towards his companion and then back across to the Englishmen. They had a feeling he knew something was about to happen.

'It's now or never guys,' Billy said while again moving the tea mugs noisily around the worktop. He looked at the other two intently, then with a spoon began to aggressively stir sugar into each mug of tea. 'In a minute,' he said quietly, 'I'm going to move towards the berth on the pretence of fetching some food. If I can get this guy to follow me, you two must follow on slowly behind.' He paused for breath, then continued. 'That'll be our opportunity to jump him. If it doesn't work what have we lost?' Again he paused, stirring all the tea mugs noisily several times while he spoke. 'Will you try and jump on him when I get him into the berth?' he asked the others.

The other two still remained silent. Taut, ashen faces and eyes filled with fear stared back at him.

'I'm going to count to five very slowly,' Billy said. 'If one of you wants to stop me from having a go, you must say something before I get to five.'

Under his breath Billy began chanting out, 'One and two and three, maybe four, Ok five,' he muttered, with his eyes constantly fixed on the other two. When the word five was completed he slowly began walking across the saloon towards the passageway that led to the berths. Immediately Asad started to yell at him. Billy responded by miming with his hands and fingers towards his mouth trying to illustrate that he was going to fetch some food from the berths. Asad continued to yell, but Billy kept walking. The Somalian shouted up to Jamal, who shouted something back down which none of the Englishmen understood. Billy had reached the door to the passageway. Asad bellowed again loudly. Billy opened the door and walked through.

There was more high pitched yelling between the Somalians. From the top of the stairway Jamal called out to the Englishmen, in a mixture of languages, that they were not to leave the saloon. The two Englishmen held their ground. More rapid-fire dialogue followed between the two Somalians, then Asad followed Billy to the berth. When he moved that way Jamal climbed down from the cockpit and stood in the middle of the stairway.

As soon as Asad disappeared through the passageway door, a crackling voice came over the short wave radio. They were calling out for Jamal. Zachary shouted down for him and he went back up the stairs to take the call.

That was the cue for the two Englishmen to move. In the few seconds that Jamal had his back to them, they tiptoed stealthily to the passageway. During those intervening moments Billy had hidden himself behind the berth door, out of Asad's sight. When he heard the second creak as the passageway door opened, he prepared himself to jump at the Somalian. Asad was by then standing in front of the berth doorway. All the while he constantly jabbered at Billy in his native language. He couldn't see Billy, although through the open hinges of the door, Billy could see him. When Asad heard the passageway door squeak open behind him, he turned his head to look back. The Somalian was holding his rifle out in front of him, but in the instant his head was turned backwards, Billy made his lunge. He could see the other two Englishmen coming down the passageway. By sheer force Billy was able to slightly weaken the man's grip on the rifle. At the same time the other two sprinted and simultaneously rugby tackled the Somalian. His body hit the deck with a resounding thump. Their impact enabled Billy to yank the rifle from Asad's hands. The Somalian began to shout out and scream. Damien clamped his hand over the man's mouth.

'Now it's our turn to have the guns,' Billy said smirking as he stood over Asad pointing the rifle at his head. The Somalian was violently twisting his head and squirming his body in an attempt to free himself. Damien's hand muzzled his shouting. Between them he and Justin managed to get him onto the bed.

In the cockpit Jamal could hear the kerfuffle below. He shouted details of the situation into the microphone, to those on the Sara. Excited, agitated voices responded back over the tannoy. Zachary was at the wheel. Nathaniel was standing nearby. Both were wondering what their next move should be.

In the berth the three Englishmen had established control over Asad. Towels and anything else to hand were used as a gag and to tie the man's hands and legs. Billy continued to wave the rifle at him, while issuing dire threats about his well being.

Through the cockpit windows Nathaniel could see men on the Sara clambering down a rope ladder and into the dinghy. He counted half a dozen men in all, some carried rifles, some rocket launchers, most of them had grenades strapped to their waists. Zachary looked across at Nathaniel with raised eyebrows.

More sounds of rumpus emanated from down below. The three in the cockpit all turned to look and saw Damien and Justin, each side of Asad, shoving him forward and upward on the stairs. Billy was behind with the rifle pointed at the Somalian's head. The moment Jamal turned to look down the stairs Nathaniel grabbed the pistol from the dashboard cupboard.

'If anything happens to any of us, your mate will get it first,' Billy shouted out loud to Jamal. 'There's five of us and two of you.' At that moment Billy could see the pistol in Nathaniel's hand. 'And we've got two guns to your one. By the law of any averages you will both be dead before we are,' Billy added.

Jamal turned his head around and saw the pistol in Nathaniel's hand. In an instant he pointed the rifle in the air and fired a single round into the ceiling, sending a deluge of splinters everywhere. Nathaniel lunged the pistol at Jamal's head. The force of the blow knocked the Somalian sideways, enabling Nathaniel to grab hold of the rifle.

Zachary found a piece of electrical wire and between them they forcibly tied Jamal's hands behind his back. The men in the dinghy had embarked from the Sara and were heading in the direction of the Addela. The waves were making it slow progress.

Suddenly a whooshing sound sliced through the air above the Addela. An enormous explosion followed. The seven men in the cockpit all shuddered in unison and looked across towards the Sara. A man on the deck was holding a rocket launcher; a small cloud of gunfire smoke hovered over his head. The resultant swell when the rocket hit water caused the Addela to lurch dramatically onto her port side. Those in the cockpit all stumbled into each other.

'Let's get these bastards out on deck and show them we mean business,' Billy shouted, then pushed the two Somalians towards the cockpit door. Zachary remained at the wheel. When they were out on deck Billy fired a round from the automatic rifle in the general direction of the dinghy, causing the men on board to duck and cut the engine. Then he pointed the rifle at Jamal's head. Damien was doing likewise with the other rifle at Asad. Billy made a motion with his hand for the dinghy to stop and return back to the Sara. For some moments nothing happened. More Somalians appeared on the deck of the Sara. Billy gestured with hand and arm movements to illustrate a telephone call. He then fired another round of automatic fire into the air above the dinghy. They all waited and watched. Eventually the dinghy turned back for the Sara. Billy again made the motion of a phone call and with Justin's help, pushed Jamal and Asad back inside the cockpit, towards the short wave radio.

'I want you to speak to your people,' Billy said threateningly, while wagging his index finger in Jamal's face. 'If you and your mate want to stay alive we require safe passage away from here and some fuel to get us back on our route.' Nathaniel was standing alongside, pointing the pistol at Jamal's head. They pushed Jamal closer to the radio. Nathaniel shoved the microphone into his hand. 'Speak to them in English,' Billy hollered at him.

With a lot of prompting Jamal eventually conveyed the message, which resulted in a fractious tirade in Somali from the speakers. 'Tell them to speak in English,' Billy shouted out.

'Not many of them speak English,' Jamal said.

'Well they'd better find somebody who does,' Billy responded curtly.

There were more protracted conversations over the radio between the Somalians. Eventually another member of the ship's company came on stream. He asked in stilted English when their colleagues would be released.

'When we have fuel and are far enough away from you to continue with our journey unmolested,' Billy replied. They could hear the men on the Somali boat arguing amongst themselves. It was some moments before the man came back on line. His English remained poor and he was constantly interrupted by the other people on his boat. The gist of their message was that the Addela was in Somali waters and that they were quite within their rights to stop and search. Nathaniel looked at Billy questioningly.

'Tell him the rules have changed now,' Billy said to Jamal. 'We don't want to stop and be searched. We have to get on with our journey. Tell them that we only got into your waters because the storm blew us this way. We didn't want to be here, but the boot's on the other foot now as we have you as hostages,' Billy shouted. 'Tell them that.'

They listened as Jamal, in his broken English, repeated Billy's words into the microphone. By then the dinghy had arrived back at the Sara. At Billy's prompting Jamal kept asking for a reply but he reported that those on board the Sara were still discussing the matter. Billy looked at Nathaniel and beckoned to him to follow him below. He handed the rifle to Justin.

'I think we've got to do something to shift these guys into a more positive response,' he said to Nathaniel when they were in the saloon. 'If they stall for time anything could happen. They could be calling up for reinforcements.'

For a moment Nathaniel looked at him blankly so Billy continued. 'Do you think you could set off one of those cakes of Semtex?' Nathaniel stared at him nonplussed. 'We've got to do something drastic to get ourselves out of this mess,' Billy added vehemently in a hushed voice.

'I suppose it's possible,' Nathaniel retorted with a shrug of his shoulders. 'If I mess about with them though I may blow us all out of the water.'

'I believe that is a chance we have to take. Just think for a few moments of the alternatives. Nobody's going to pay a ransom for us, are they?'

'What have you got in mind?' Nathaniel said.

'I think we should start to turn our boat around and head back the way we have come. I expect they'll follow us, kick up a stink and make a lot of noise. But then when we are far enough away from them we should detonate one of the Semtex tablets into the sea between us. It will at least make an almighty bang and frighten the life out of everybody. 'Can you set a detonator?' Billy asked.

Nathaniel was staring at him again. 'I've said all along that you are a crazy man,' he said.

'I know you have. Maybe you're right, but can you set a detonator?'

'I will see,' he replied shaking his head and went to where they had hidden the Semtex.

Meanwhile the Sara continued to hold its station close to the Addela. 'Have they come to any decision?' Billy asked Jamal when he returned to the cockpit.

'They are still discussing your proposal,' Jamal replied.

'Well they'd better damn well hurry up,' Billy responded. 'I'm beginning to lose my patience. It's your life they're playing with,' he added while pointing one of the guns at the Somalian.

Jamal jabbered back at him with more unintelligible phrases.

'Zachary, could I have a word?' Billy said.

Zachary affixed the wheel and they went below to the saloon together. Briefly, and in hushed tones, Billy outlined his plan. When he'd finished Zachary looked at him, totally bemused. 'Surely they will direct the big gun at us if we try that?' the Greek said.

'If they do they'll also kill their two mates. I think it's a risk we have to take. The alternative is that we will probably get killed anyway. If Nathaniel can do something with the detonators, are you willing to try? You're the one who has to turn the boat round. Will you do that?'

Zachary's lips were trembling, he continued to look bemused and frightened. While they were on the stairs Nathaniel emerged from below. 'I think I may be able to do something with the detonators,' he said when he got near them. 'Don't blame me though if I end up killing all of us.'

Billy looked back at Zachary. 'Will you try and turn the boat round?' he said. Zachary looked at Nathaniel, who shrugged his shoulders.

'I think it is madness. My boat will be blown up. We'll all be killed,' Zachary said.

'Do you want to be taken to Somalia?' Billy responded in an instant. Nathaniel again shrugged his shoulders. The two of them were still looking at Zachary.

'Ok,' he began. 'I will try but I still think it is madness.'

Billy quickly described the procedure they would adopt. Nathaniel said he would need to find something to use as a sling, to propel the Semtex away from the Addela. He added that there were time clocks with the detonators and he should be able to set a time of two minutes from the moment when he threw the tablet. He hoped that might give them enough time to get far enough way from the explosion. Billy explained that he would say, 'Time to give it a go, Zach,' when Nathaniel was ready to throw the Semtex. Zachary went back to the wheel. By then the sea had calmed somewhat. While he was in the saloon Billy wrote down on a piece of paper a brief outline of his plan of action. In the cockpit he handed it to Justin and then onto Damien, who were still covering the Somalians with the rifles. After they had read the note they, in turn, looked up at Billy with wide, scary eyes. He nodded to each of them in response. Sensing that something was about to happen the two Somalians were becoming edgy again. Jamal began jabbering excitedly into the microphone in his own language. Billy pointed the rifle at him and said, 'Keep it in English please.'

### CHAPTER TEN

In the meantime I had managed to get myself to Crete. At Heraklion one of our people was there to meet me. Fortunately he had already done some groundwork on my behalf, making inquiries at the harbour and at the Megaron. The staff at the hotel certainly remembered Charles' extrovert party. They recounted that there had been some sort of bust-up before they all left. At the harbour, the Miranda was vividly remembered. It had been noted however, that she left with only a small crew, which included one of the ladies. The other men, my colleague was informed, had chartered a boat belonging to two Greeks. In each case the final destination of the two boats was still thought to be Hong Kong and their next port of call Djibouti.

In the UK matters had also been instigated as a result of the telephone messages from the Addela. Billy had followed up his call with various texts, prompting his business colleagues back home to put more pressure on the Foreign Office. It transpired that a Royal Navy frigate was somewhere in the area. The possibility of sending out some aircraft to fly over the zone was also considered, but at that time there had been no positive contact from anybody else to confirm a hijack, which made them reluctant to commit too many resources. My presence in the area soon became known to the powers that be, and within a short space of time I became the unofficial liaison officer for the whole operation, and was able to update everybody in London about the splitting up of the original crew into two boats.

My own hunch was that Billy Tennant and the missing Semtex were aboard the Greek vessel. Everything I had managed to glean up until that time about Charles Meredith told me he was unlikely to have anything to do with smuggling the explosive. My new role also gave me wider access to more government resources. Quickly I was able to establish that both vessels had left Djibouti. More rapid-fire inquiries enabled me to discover that the Miranda had by then docked at Mirissa, in Sri Lanka. We also had a man stationed on the island, and I was able to send him off to the port to find the yacht and Charles Meredith. I also became aware of the cyclone and the problems it had caused at sea.

Saman, our man on Sri Lanka, didn't keep me waiting long. Before the day was out he had not only found the Miranda and Meredith, but had also set up a computer link. Soon I was looking at Meredith's pale blue eyes and weather-beaten features on my laptop screen. Briefly I explained my background and the course of my original inquiry. He listened intently and I noticed furrowed frown lines appear on his brow when I mentioned Semtex. Then I asked him directly if that's what had caused the break up of the party at Heraklion.

I watched him scratch his nose. 'I'm afraid it was,' he replied after a short pause. 'No way was I going to get myself, or the other members of the crew, involved in anything like that,' he added. 'This voyage was supposed to be a celebration of our retirements. Until we got to Crete I had no idea that the stuff was on board.'

Meredith went on to give me the names of the three men who had been evicted from his boat. He also confirmed that even the Miranda had difficulty in dealing with the cyclone and added that there was no way that Damien, Justin and Billy could have coped on a boat by themselves in that weather. I told him about the three of them chartering the Addela and what I knew about the Greeks, but at that stage I deliberately omitted to say anything about Somali pirates, or a possible hijack. I didn't know how close they all remained, or if they were still in touch, and I didn't want him tipping off the men on the Addela before I caught up with them. During our conversation I asked Meredith why he had not informed the Police or the customs people when he discovered the Semtex.

'We only realised that Semtex was on board when we were about to sail,' he replied. 'It was nothing to do with me. I just wanted it, and them, off my boat. We couldn't afford a longer stay in harbour to wait for any subsequent inquiries. It was their problem not mine.'

'And so you sailed on with a smaller crew?' I said.

'Correct, my wife has joined us. It's hard going but so far we're managing.'

'I'm afraid I am going to have to put a damper on your side of things for a brief time,' I said and watched his face drop. 'The theft of the Semtex is a serious crime with implications all over Europe,' I continued. 'Unfortunately I'm going to have to come and take a statement from you all before you move on from there.'

'Oh hell,' Meredith responded. 'How soon is that going to be?

'Not long I hope. When we get a bearing on the Addela I will be able to move on from here. Until then I must ask you to remain in Mirissa.'

He was not best pleased, but he had little choice. He knew I could impound his boat if necessary.

* * * * *

Fractious tension remained the byword on board the Addela. Jamal continued to shout indiscriminately at everybody, even though his hands and feet had been tied. The radio microphone had been removed from his grasp and Billy was eventually forced to apply a gag to his mouth. The crew were still anxiously waiting for Nathaniel to appear from below decks with some of the Semtex. The Sara still hovered menacingly on their starboard side. Men were out on her deck with automatic rifles and what looked like a rocket launcher. The same man still sat behind the big gun. When Jamal and Asad's belligerence continued Billy instructed Damien to force them onto chairs and tie them there. Eventually Nathaniel appeared at the bottom of the stairs beckoning for him to come down.

'I think I've been able to rig something up,' he said when Billy reached him. 'God knows if it will work. I still believe we will all get blown up.' Billy could see that Nathaniel had constructed a homemade catapult out of a small piece of rope and the elastic from somebody's underpants. In his other hand was a tablet of Semtex, connected to a detonator and a time switch.

'Is that thing timed to go off now?' Billy asked.

'For Christ sake no. Do you think I am completely stupid? I will start the clock when I am on deck and ready to launch it into the water. Then I will pray.'

Billy took a deep breath. 'Ok if you're ready I will tell Zachary to turn about. I think it best if you stay out of sight until we have some water between us and their vessel.'

'I'm as ready as I am ever likely to be,' Nathaniel replied with a snigger.

Billy returned to the cockpit. The speakers of the radio continued to relay noisy messages from the Sara. Nobody was responding on the Addela. The muffled warblings of Jamal and his colleague continued unabated under their gags. Billy looked around at all of them. He conjectured that they were in about as much control as they were ever likely to be. Outside the sea had calmed to a manageable swell. He looked down the stairs at Nathaniel who was still waiting. In turn he looked at each of his colleagues and gave them a nod.

'Time to give it a go Zachary,' he said.

At that moment the Addela's engine was idly chugging. Zachary suddenly slewed the wheel to port, away from the other boat. Everybody in the cockpit slithered slightly that way. When she was almost about Zachary thrust the throttle forward. The little craft violently aquaplaned, causing those who were standing to bounce, once more, painfully against the side walls of the cockpit. Jamal and his partner yelled in anguish under their gags. Another rage of verbals clamoured out of the speakers, most of it still unintelligible.

But the Addela was flat out. They'd stolen a march on the Sara. In the confusion it had taken the Somalians some time to respond. Being bigger, their vessel was also slower in the turn than the Addela. Zachary kept the throttle pressed firmly forward. Suddenly a margin of water opened up between the two vessels. Jamal and Asad were squirming in their seats, struggling to break free from their bonds. Billy hit Jamal firmly on the cheek with his hand. 'You stop that,' he bellowed at him.

'Keep it full on for a while,' he shouted across to Zachary.

The distance between the two vessels widened. The Sara had only just started to come about. Billy beckoned Nathaniel to come up into the cockpit. They talked briefly. Nathaniel looked across at Zachary who nodded his head. Above their gags the eyes of Jamal and Asad were peering like frightened deer, caught in a spotlight. Zachary slowed the engine just a little. Nathaniel made his way out onto the rear deck. In his right hand was the sling and in his left the Semtex, with the detonator attached. The Englishmen watched as he fiddled with the detonator switch and set up his homemade catapult. Slowly he pulled the elastic back with his right hand, held it taut for some moments, then let go. They all watched the missile fly. It wasn't a perfect parabola but the package landed with a flop and a splash in the water, half way between the two boats. Nothing happened for some seconds. In the cockpit the three Englishmen held their breath.

The resultant explosion was frightening. A deep 'boom' echoed around the ocean like a thunderbolt. The men on the Addela all shuddered in unison. Then a massive plume of water spewed out of the sea, like a fountain gone berserk. The resultant wave nearly turned the Addela over. Everybody on board and everything that was loose slewed in the same direction. Zachary again had to fight with the wheel. The Somalians and their chairs were toppled onto the floor.

Nathaniel came back into the cockpit, with a wide grin on his face.

'Nice explosion,' Billy said reciprocating the grin. Zachary was still struggling with the wheel and cursing to himself. Jamal and Asad having been up-righted in their seats were shaking their heads in anger. The radio speakers transmitted more expletives. Next, those in the cockpit heard a whooshing sound pass closely over them. All of them involuntary ducked their heads in unison. The shell hit the water on their port side. A similar explosion and plume of water rose from the sea as before. The tidal wave that ensued this time toppled the Addela in a starboard direction. Zachary issued another battery of curses as he tried to right the boat. For some moments complete panic reigned.

The Sara was by then some considerable way behind, still riding the wave from Nathaniel's Semtex explosion. Billy walked towards Jamal and roughly untied the gag. The Somalian shook his head to unloosen his neck. Then, while prodding his index finger at him, with his head bent very close, Billy said to him, 'Now, I want you to get on that radio and tell your people that we can blow them out of the water if we have to. If they want to see you two alive again they must provide us with fuel and guarantee our safe passage. Do that now. This instant!' Billy took the microphone from the radio and placed it in front of Jamal's mouth. 'Now please, and in English,' he hollered.

While Jamal spoke sounds of confusion and turmoil continued to come from the Sara. The English speaking one was brought back to the microphone. Jamal had to repeat Billy's instructions many times for his requirements to actually register with the people on the other boat. More garbled uproar erupted from the speakers.

Gradually though, albeit over a considerable period of time, and piece by piece, with Jamal's interpretation, Billy was able to acquire some tacit agreement on each demand he'd made and the suggested modus operandi.

He told them that the Sara was to remain at a station a quarter of a mile behind the Addela. Then they were to send the dinghy forward with two small barrels of fuel and one unarmed man with their passports. Once the barrels had been loaded onto the Addela, and passports handed over, the Sara was to remain at rest to allow the Addela to sail out of Somali waters. The Addela would watch the Sara on the radar to make sure she held her position, he said. If the Sara moved they would not release the three Somalians. Once they were safely in international waters the Addela would release the three men into the dinghy for the Sara to pick up.

The whole process of negotiation took a very long time. Every point had to be spelt out repeatedly and was constantly argued over. While this took place Damien was busy sending text messages to the UK, detailing their exact position and their desperate need for help. Slowly he began to receive replies from more official sources. Eventually a telephone call came in from the Foreign Office. He gave them the name of the Somalian vessel, plus details of the agreement they had come to with them. The FO confirmed that they had no authority in Somalian waters.

At this time I was brought up to date on the situation. The plan was to get the Addela back to Djibouti with some sort of escort, so I had to fly down there quickly to organise matters.

* * * * *

The Addela continued to motor on full throttle on its new course. The Sara was maintaining a station some way behind. Sometime during this period Nathaniel spotted an aeroplane in the distance, heading in their direction from the North. He soon had the binoculars trained on it. The plane was some way off, but it must have spotted the two boats, for it suddenly began to circle. Nathaniel remained with the binoculars.

'Can you see any markings?' Billy asked.

Nathaniel shook his head. 'It's too far away,'he replied. In his right hand he held the binoculars, while with his left he continued to twirl the dial on the short wave radio. Jamal was still strapped to the chair. Asad had by then been taken below to the saloon.

'Hello Addela, can you hear me?' a British voice suddenly echoed from the radio speakers. Billy instantly grabbed the microphone.

'Yes, we can hear you,' he shouted back down the mouthpiece.

'Are you all right?' the voice at the other end responded, then confirmed that they were an RAF flight out of Oman.

Billy went on to describe their situation and the tentative arrangements they had made with the Sara.

'You must be very careful,' the voice on the radio said. 'We can see you but we can't do very much as you are still in Somali waters. If we tried anything they may send out one of their aircraft. We are just going to buzz their boat to let them know we are around,' the pilot said. 'Once you're into international waters we can do something more positive to protect you. We have your position now anyway, so we'll stick around for as long as we can. You must steer a course due north to get back into international waters,' he added. Billy looked at Zachary who nodded in response and slightly altered the wheel. The aircraft signed off and then they noticed it change course and head towards them. By then they could clearly see RAF markings on the wings. The sky around them vibrated with its arrival. Then it detoured off to the right and made a big wide circle around the Addela and the Sara, well out of distance of any fire power.

When the plane had gone Billy, Zachary and Nathaniel all looked at each other. Soon Billy was back on the radio, using Jamal to issue more demands for the fuel. After some time they began to see activity on the deck of the Sara. A man had clambered down into the dinghy. Then, they saw two fuel tanks being lowered on ropes. There was more prevarication over the speakers, but eventually the dinghy began to move away from the Sara and head in their direction. Zachary slowed the motors to a stop, allowing the dinghy to catch up.

* * * * *

I got myself to Djibouti and set myself up in the most comfortable hotel room I could find with air conditioning. At that juncture I had to ensure that I didn't allow my enthusiasm and concern for the one aspect of the task to jeopardise the achievement of the other. I soon realised it was going to be a difficult balancing act.

I was hoping that those on board the Addela would remain unaware of my knowledge of the Semtex. At that time and for their purpose I was just in charge of their rescue operation. When I spoke to Charles Meredith I had emphasised that I wanted him to keep the Semtex matter to himself. From our conversation I gathered he would do that. He said he was just glad to be free of his former pals so he could get on with the voyage to Hong Kong, although I couldn't be completely sure that he wouldn't tip them off about me being on their tail.

Installed in my hotel room with laptop and the requisite phones I was soon able to set about contacting those on the Addela. My people back in the UK had given me their mobile numbers. When I rang one of them Damien answered. I introduced myself as the representative of the Foreign Office who would be supervising their rescue mission. I explained that I was in Djibouti and would want the Addela taken there. There was some hesitation on his part in response. He said he would have to discuss it with his partners as their intended destination still remained Hong Kong. Djibouti would be taking them further away again, he added.

'Well I'm afraid you are British citizens who are part of an international incident and those are the instructions from the Government,' I responded staunchly. 'We cannot guarantee your safety any other way. I also understand that the owners of the boat are two Greek nationals, and that is also their Government's requirements. If you went back into the Indian Ocean you'd be a sitting duck for reprisals. The Yemen is often in league with Somalia. From there they could send out a boat or an aircraft to attack you. So for the time being you will have to follow my instructions.'

Damien said he would pass my message on to the others, who were at that moment engaged in receiving the fuel and arranging for the three Somalians to board the dinghy. I realised that even if things went smoothly on the Addela, it would take them at least a couple of days to sail from their current location back to Djibouti. I did however, arrange for the RAF to continue its watch over them and for the frigate, which was somewhere in the Indian Ocean, to sail in their direction and act as an escort. My plan was to sail out to meet them when the Addela was near the harbour.

That small window of time gave me the opportunity to visit Charles Meredith in Mirissa. During our previous conversation I had acquired his mobile number. When I phoned he said he was anxious to get the Miranda on its way to Hong Kong. I told him I was hoping to get a plane to take me to Mirissa within twenty four hours.

It's amazing what strings you can pull when you have the ultimate authority from your Government. A cargo flight that evening took me to Sri Lanka. I had arranged for Saman, our man there, to pick me up at the airport in Columbo and organise some accommodation for me. He had also been able to set up a meeting with Meredith for early next morning.

It was approaching ten o'clock in the morning when I walked up the gangplank of the Miranda. Her sleek lines positively dazzled in the morning sunlight. It was the first time I had actually seen her. Meredith was waiting for me on deck, with an outstretched hand.

He looked younger than he'd appeared over the internet. A thick crop of fair hair, turning to grey, a rugged square jawed face, distinguished nose and pale blue eyes made him look like an ageing, nineteen sixties film star. He stood well over six foot in height. 'Good of you to see me this early,' I said as I stepped on board. Saman was a pace behind me.

'I just want to get this thing over with quickly, so we can get on our way,' he replied in a haughty South of England accent. His handshake was rock solid. He led the way to the saloon, where Alicia, Lawrence and Robert were waiting and I introduced Saman. The luxurious fittings caused me to stop and stare. On the saloon wall a water painting of a Grullo horse caught my eye.

'Nice boat you've got here,' I remarked.

'Well, we like it,' Meredith responded.

Alicia made some tea. I sat down with the others, around the saloon table and unhinged my notebook. Firstly I queried each of their names in full and their UK addresses. Then I gave them a resumè of the Semtex that had been stolen in France, the initial quantity taken and our theory that it had since been broken down into smaller parcels. I went on to describe how my trail had led me to Gibraltar.

'We had no idea that those idiots would do anything so stupid as to get involved in something like this,' Lawrence cut in, referring to the younger three. He had a shock of thick white hair. 'We were all university chums together, since then we have only been social acquaintances. Had we known they were into this sort of thing we would never have continued our association.' The others nodded in agreement.

'When did you start to get suspicious?' I asked.

'At Gibraltar,' Meredith interjected. He then told me about the parcels they brought on board there, his suspicions and his subsequent discovery of the Semtex when they were docked at Crete. 'As Lawrence has said, these guys must be complete idiots. I cannot think what motivated them to do something like that in the first place.'

Next I asked what was the purpose of their trip to Hong Kong. 'Purely as a sequel to our retirement,' Meredith said. 'I'd acquired this boat a few years ago and have never taken her on a serious lengthy voyage. Never seen what she really was made of, if you like.'

'Why Hong Kong?'

'Partly because it's a hell of a long way. None of us wanted to go to the Americas. Hong Kong is about as far as you can sail this way round the world without becoming involved in that continent. I also have some property interests there which I want to follow up. So it all fitted in nicely.'

I asked more questions, took notes, told them about the Addela and its difficulties in the storm, but omitted to mention anything about Somalian pirates. 'Now I am going to have to say something you may not like to hear,' I said next. They all looked up at me sharply. I sipped at the tea Alicia had served, then continued. 'Before I allow you to leave here I am afraid I am going to have to arrange for the Miranda to be searched and I will require statements from you.'

They all guffawed and expressed similar noises of astonishment. 'Surely you don't think we would be involved in anything so silly, do you?' Meredith snapped at me.

'Well innocently or not, I'm afraid you are involved. I'd be failing in my duty if I didn't make sure that the boat is totally clean before letting you sail on. My friend Saman here can arrange it to be done this afternoon, but I assure you it is absolutely necessary. It will be done discreetly and mainly with sniffer dogs, but it must be done before you leave here.'

They all raised objections but I stood my ground. Saman immediately got on the phone and organised matters. A police patrol car soon arrived on the quayside. I told the four to remain on board until the search was completed. The policemen in the car would ensure they did, I added firmly. 'I will return later with the search team,' I told them as I left the vessel.

* * * * *

I lunched with Saman at a restaurant near the harbour. We were joined there by the very glamorous Miss Ali Lee, another British Government official, who would assist in the preparation of the statements. Her glorious oriental smile immediately disarmed me. She was short, but possessed a classic, slim figure, enhanced by a tight fitting, dark trouser suit over a white blouse. Steep heels on shiny black shoes completed the alluring attire. During our lunch Saman had brought me up to date on the island's civil war problems and the latest exploits of the, by then, almost defunct Tamil Tigers. He told me that many of his family had been murdered during the troubles. To safeguard his life, when he was a teenager, his parents had sent him and his sister to a distant relative in London to finish their degrees and find work. Saman eventually joined the Foreign Office, but he was always set on coming home, and when this posting became available he told me that he had jumped at the opportunity.

The customs officers and the police were all gathered on the quayside when we arrived back at the harbour. Leading my posse up the gangplank of the Miranda I could see Charles Meredith's angry looking face waiting to greet me. 'I'm sure there is something I could do to prevent this if I contacted the right people,' he said dispassionately. 'I do have friends in high places you know.'

'You're welcome to contact anybody you choose, Mister Meredith,' I replied, 'but I assure you that if you do it will only delay your departure further. This boat will not sail until it has been searched by the authorities. You have my word on that.'

'Well I think it's a lot of fuss about nothing.'

'I disagree with you there,' I said. 'There may have been enough Semtex on board your boat to blow up half of New York, or London for that matter. I'm afraid I don't consider that to be a fuss about nothing.'

He looked at me in stony silence and then stood aside. Four custom officers, two with Springer Spaniel sniffer dogs, and two Sri Lankan police officers, Saman and Miss Lee all followed me on board. Two other policemen remained in the car on the quayside.

'I thought you said this was going to be discreet?' Meredith said.

'I assure you we will get it over with as quickly as possible,' I responded.

The Miranda was a sizeable vessel with many rooms, and passageways, so the search took longer than I expected. I watched as the dogs scurried about their work. Alicia, Robert, Lawrence and Meredith were initially kept busy opening doors, cupboards and access points. When the customs were able to get on by themselves I gathered the four members of the crew in the saloon and introduced Miss Lee. Meredith grunted. Again my eye was caught by the picture of the Grullo horse. Briefly I thought back to my childhood and Aunt Beth's stallion Rock. While Miss Lee unpacked her laptop and small printer, I brought them all up to date on the current situation regarding the Addela and its crew.

'So you see,' I stated,'I really do need your confirmation that you saw the Semtex, and of the involvement of the other three. In the end it all may come down to a legal battle. The Greeks are only simple boat people, so your evidence is vital. If you're not prepared to confirm the details to me I'm going to have you all arrested as accessories to the crime.'

My words obviously shocked them. Meredith again looked at his three companions, this time with a resigned expression and shrug of his shoulders. He rubbed his chin. 'We've obviously discussed this between ourselves,' he said. 'My wife, Alicia, will not make a statement as she did not actually see the Semtex at any time. And as I was the one who found the packages I feel it is my responsibility, as Skipper, to make any statement required. Lawrence and Robert will not do so.'

Reluctantly I agreed. By then Miss Lee had finished setting up her computer and was sat near the table with notebook and pencil in hand. Her tights made a swishing sound when she crossed her legs, which distracted everybody for a second. With my prompting, Meredith began to recount the details I have already related about events on the Miranda, at Gibraltar and Crete. Miss Lee simultaneously transcribed in shorthand and afterwards typed out the document, before printing a copy, which I handed to Meredith.

He read it two or three times, then when he was satisfied, Miss Lee printed out another two copies. She'd included spaces for us to sign and date and her to witness. 'I just hope we will be left alone to get on with our voyage now,' Meredith said gruffly when it was all done.

'That's why I have come all this way to see you,' I responded. 'I could have had you brought back to Djibouti if I'd wanted to be really awkward.'

The search by the customs, in all, took the best part of two hours. By then nerves and tempers had become edgy. 'Now are you quite sure you are all done?' Meredith said to me sarcastically as the customs men began to finish up. 'You wouldn't like to search my wife's underwear drawer as well would you?'

'I assure you Mister Meredith that the dogs have already done that in their own particular way.' He looked at me with a face like thunder.

'As far we can tell the boat's clean,' the chief customs officer said to me out on deck. 'With a vessel this size it's impossible to be a thousand per cent sure, without taking the whole ship apart, and that could take three or four days. But on the remit we've got here it looks OK to me.'

I nodded and he completed the customs clearance papers accordingly. There were a couple of copies for me and two for Meredith. 'I again apologise for the disturbance,' I said to him as I handed him the documents. 'At least you have peace of mind to know that the other three didn't leave anything dangerous on board.' The expression on his face didn't soften. 'When do you hope to sail?' I asked.

'Yesterday!' he replied impatiently.

### CHAPTER ELEVEN

Saman drove me back to the airport at Columbo. Miss Lee came with us. Her charm and grace had already made a hit with me. There was a return cargo flight early that evening which I was anxious to board. I didn't want the Addela arriving in Djibouti without me being there.

'What happened to your sister?' I asked Saman as I was getting out of his car.

'Still lives in London,' he replied. 'She's too afraid to come home in case they kill her. These are still difficult times,' he added with a resigned expression.

'Shame,' I said, 'it's a beautiful island.'

'I know, but those are the facts of life if you live here.' I shook my head and hurried inside the terminal building.

Back in my hotel room in Djibouti I was able to update myself on the Addela. She was still a day away. I spoke to Billy Tennant on his mobile phone, again without making any mention of Semtex. He told me they'd encountered more problems with the Somalians, after Jamal, Asad and the other man had returned to the Sara. Fortunately, Billy said, that at the time the RAF aircraft was making one of its periodic visits to check on their safety, which caused the Sara to back off. When the Royal Navy frigate also came into view the Sara turned and headed back to its own waters.

Afterwards I made arrangements with the harbour authorities for a boat to take me and the local police out to meet them. I didn't want a major boarding party at sea. I knew the Addela couldn't go very far in that ocean without being caught. After I completed the calls I crashed out on my bed and slept deeply, having been on the move for over twenty four hours.

* * * * *

The following afternoon a coastguard vessel, with a large gun on the foredeck, took me and an armed police officer out into the Gulf of Aden to meet up with the Addela. I had telephoned Billy Tennant that morning to advise him of our impending arrival. The Royal Navy frigate had continued to shadow the Addela until she got near to Djibouti.

We were ploughing through choppy waves under clear skies when I first spotted the Addela's tiny outline on the horizon. As we got closer I wondered how on earth they'd hoped to get to Hong Kong in such a small vessel. By then I was in contact with Billy on the short wave radio.

Nathaniel was on the outer deck, holding out a rope line and a pole when we drew alongside. Billy was standing nearby. I clung onto Nathaniel's outstretched hand for support as I clambered aboard. The policeman followed on behind me, wearing a holstered pistol and carrying an automatic rifle.

'You must be getting used to people boarding you,' I said to Billy when we met up on the outer deck. He was unshaven with several days growth of stubble; we shook hands.

'Seems to be our fate on this trip,' he replied with a chuckle.

Although I had seen photographs of him, this was the first time we'd met face to face. He was a dark haired, handsome devil. You could see instantly why the ladies fancied him. His cold blue eyes darted about, taking in everything that was going on. When he smiled though, a crooked bend appeared at the corner of his mouth which caused me to doubt anything he might say. One by one I was introduced to the others. The Greeks looked nervous and apprehensive. The Englishmen more confident and mildly pleasant, but the strain of recent events showed on all their faces. Slowly, so that the Greeks could understand, I introduced myself as the British Government's representative. The policeman stood alongside me. I went on to tell them that we had come out to ensure they had safe passage into Djibouti harbour. Hotel accommodation had been arranged so they could rest up and organise new clothes and provisions. I told them a medical team would be available if required. They all shrugged their shoulders indifferently.

'Do you still intend to go on to Hong Kong?' I asked.

'We will not be doing that,' Nathaniel cut in. 'We are going back to Crete, to our families, on our boat,' he said dogmatically. Zachary nodded at his remark. I looked at the three Englishmen.

'We still haven't decided what to do,' Damien said. 'We will probably rest up for a bit and then make a decision.'

The weather remained fine, the sky was still clear, the wind fresh but in no way represented a gale. It was going to take a couple of hours to get back to Djibouti so I used the time to question them about their confrontation with the pirates. We all remained together in the cockpit so they were able to relate the events in some detail. At that juncture I just wanted them all on my side. I still maintained that I was on a rescue mission for their benefit. Propped up against the side walls of the cockpit I spotted the automatic rifles they'd acquired from the pirates. No way did I want to facilitate their use. I said that the police officer and I would remain on board until we reached Djibouti. The other vessel would follow on behind. They all looked apprehensive. In the distance I could see the Royal Navy frigate.

'Weren't you all frightened?' I asked as their tale evolved.

'Terrified,' Damien responded. The others made similar noises in confirmation.

'How did you manage to keep them at bay for so long?' I said.

'Once we had captured the two who boarded us it was easier,' Billy replied quickly. 'I guess they were concerned about their colleagues welfare,' he continued.

'It must have been touch and go though?' I pursued.

'It certainly was,' Billy said. 'Quite a few times they launched rockets over our heads.'

My interrogation continued until the harbour at Djibouti came into view. During all that time the Greeks said very little. The aspect of Semtex was still never mentioned by any of them, or me, but I had been able to build up a lot of background detail on what had occurred. I then told them that a customs team would need to come on board before they would be allowed to go ashore at Djibouti. The five faces immediately tightened perceivably. 'Is that really necessary after all we've been through?' Billy said.

'I'm afraid so,' I replied. 'At the moment the authorities at Djibouti have a major alert on. Some terrorist activities in the locality, I gather,' I lied. 'They will not allow any boat in or out of the area without a thorough inspection. Especially as you've been boarded by Somalian pirates. It's one more cross you'll have to bear I'm afraid.' I said and looked at them all in turn. There was no immediate response. 'However, if any of you need urgent medical attention I can arrange for a doctor to come on board as soon as we dock,' I added. None of them commented.

* * * * *

When we got close to the harbour the customs vessel went ahead and guided us to a docking space away from the main quayside. Unfortunately I could see a reception committee already awaiting us on shore.

'Why didn't you bring a brass band as well?' Billy said sarcastically as we drew near.

'You've been involved in an international incident with terrorists,' I replied. 'Those of us responsible have to take these matters seriously.'

On the quayside there was an assorted collection of customs, police and ambulance vehicles, and a substantial body of uniformed men. In amongst them I spotted the man who I knew to be the Greek Government's representative. Fortunately I had been able to brief him beforehand about the possibility of Semtex being on board.

My intention was still to try and keep everything as calm as possible. The last thing I wanted was for the locals to become jumpy and argumentative and start brandishing rifles; something they had a habit of doing. 'The customs inspection is only a formality,' I said trying to reassure the five men on the Addela.

When we tied up I went ashore leaving the policeman on board. I returned with the Chief Inspector of police, four customs officers, two with sniffer dogs and the Greek Government's representative. The five men looked aghast as the intruders tramped on board. I introduced everybody and spelt out what each person in the party would be doing. Unfortunately the Chief Inspector instantly moved towards the two automatic rifles that had remained propped up against the cockpit wall. 'That's all we have to defend ourselves with!!' Billy shouted out at him.

'Calm down,' I said gesturing to both Billy and the policeman. 'The police will not want live guns around while there are civilians on board.' The Chief Inspector picked up each rifle in turn and emptied out the cartridges, but he did put them back carefully against the wall. I could see the crew getting more edgy by the minute. Beads of perspiration were forming on their foreheads; it was becoming claustrophobic in there.

'Ok let's get on with it,' I said to the customs people. 'Perhaps you can start off down below,' I added and pointed them that way. 'Before we do anything else do any of you need a doctor?' I asked the crew. They all looked at each other blankly, then one by one shook their heads in the negative. 'Ok, perhaps the Englishmen and I can go on the outer deck with the Chief Inspector,' I said gesturing in that direction. 'I know my friend here wants to speak to his people,' I added, pointing at the Greek consul.

Five on the outer deck was nearly as cramped as in the cockpit, but at least there was fresh air. We organised some chairs and sat around the small table.

I had also briefed the Chief Inspector beforehand about not making any mention of the Semtex. He'd agreed and confined himself to what happened with the pirates. The Englishmen drank water and nibbled at the bits of food we had brought on board while they related the details. The Inspector took copious notes. Once the facts were agreed I pressed to bring matters to a conclusion. When we were complete we swapped over. The Greeks came outside with their man to see the Inspector and I went inside with the Englishmen, who kept stressing their impatience to get ashore, so I went below to talk to the customs people. The dogs waggling bodies and swishing tails, were under our feet everywhere.

'Anything?' I asked the head customs man.

'Only these,' he replied, holding up various packets of cigarettes and cigars. 'We've just about finished down here.'

'Semtex doesn't take up a lot of space,' I said. 'It could be stored under a floorboard or somewhere similar?'

'I know that, but this boat is pretty flimsy. The dogs would detect it through the deck,' he said stamping his foot on the deck floor. 'On an ocean liner or a big cargo ship it would be more difficult. On those boats there's lots of heavy metal plating, but the dogs can detect most things through this,' he said, re-emphasising his words with another stamp of his foot.

'I'm afraid gentleman, that we will also need to undertake a body search,' I said to the Englishmen who were still in the saloon. The Greeks had remained on the outer deck. The Englishmen again looked displeased. 'Could you please empty your pockets on the table and stand up.' I was surprised that between them they must have been carrying about ten thousand dollars in cash. 'It was necessary, as it's the only currency the Greeks would accept for the voyage. They wanted to be paid in cash at each port for fuel and provisions,' Justin said when I remarked on it. Afterwards the Greeks were similarly frisked. They too produced large wads of dollar notes from their pockets.

On the quayside I met up with the customs and the Chief Inspector. 'The boat is clean,' the customs man said to me. While we'd been on board a diver had been underneath to inspect the hull.

'No Semtex then?' I asked the customs man.

He shook his head in response and added, 'No, sorry.'

That left me in a quandary. After meeting Charles Meredith I was almost certain I would find Semtex on the Addela. Their last port of call had been here in Djibouti. I conjectured that they could have disposed of the stuff then, but somehow I doubted it.

* * * * *

Already there were news people gathering on the quayside. At that moment it only looked like the local press but I guessed the international tribe would soon be on their way. Then I knew all hell would break loose.

I had arranged with the Chief Inspector for police cars to take the crew to the hotel. A police guard would remain on the Addela. I had also changed my accommodation to the same hotel, two floors below them. As we disembarked, flashbulbs exploded in our faces and microphones were thrust ominously in our direction, but we managed to get through without being held up. Sirens noisily blared from the police cars as we sped up to town. Something I had wished to avoid.

By then it was early evening. In the hotel they were able to take meals in their rooms and once I had seen that they were relatively comfortable I left them to it. I mentioned that they would not be allowed to leave the hotel until we'd met up with them again in the morning. They all registered their objections. A policeman was stationed outside each room with an automatic rifle.

In the lobby I updated my Greek colleague on all the aspects relating to the Semtex and details of my conversation with Charles Meredith. 'If possible,' I said to the Greek, his name was Istvan, he was tall, dark, thin and wiry, with a small moustache, 'I would like to keep the two nationalities separate until I can get to the bottom of it all.' I continued. 'My feeling is that your people would have known nothing about the Semtex before they set sail from Crete. I'm pretty certain in my own mind that the Englishmen picked up the Semtex in Gibraltar and were planning to take it on to Hong Kong. That was their original intention on board the Miranda.' He listened intently and agreed to assist me in any way he could.

Once I got back into my room I put in a call to Charles Meredith. He told me they'd reached the Bay of Bengal. 'We have your friends and the two Greeks in a hotel in Djibouti,' I said to him.

'You'd be better putting them straight in jail as far as I'm concerned. Save everybody a lot of time and money,' he retorted snappily. I ignored his barb and continued.

'I thought you'd be interested to know that they were involved in an attempted hijack by Somalian Pirates after the storm in the Indian Ocean,' I said.

'Good God,' Meredith shouted. 'Did they take them hostage?'

'No.'

'Pity.'

I sniggered slightly. 'Once you'd confronted them at the Megaron hotel with the Semtex, did you see the stuff again?' I asked.

'No, we sailed the next day. When we left they were still at the Megaron. What happened to them after that I don't know and don't particularly care. They'd already buggered up our voyage. I just wanted them and their bags of trouble off my yacht.'

'But did they still maintain that they were continuing on for Hong Kong?'

'I can't be positive about that because their arrangements were in a mess. There'd already been trouble on board after it was discovered that Billy was having an affair with Damien's wife. Everything was up in the air. I just wanted to be rid of them, so I didn't bother getting too involved with the details, but now it seems I am.'

I explained to Meredith that our search of the Addela had produced no Semtex.

'Knowing them I expect they just chucked it overboard when the pirates closed in. Shame it didn't go off and blow them all up,' he said.

I was getting no cooperative responses to any of my questions, so I ended our conversation by telling him that I still might need to see him again when they reached Singapore. His reply wasn't particularly pleasant.

* * * * *

Next morning the Chief Inspector and I went first to see the Englishmen. They were accommodated in two adjoining rooms with all the usual facilities. The policeman was still outside the door with the automatic rifle when we arrived.

'Did you manage to sleep OK?' I asked them.

'We all had the craziest dreams,' Justin said. 'Being captured by a cut throat gang of pirates tends to inspire nightmares,' he added.

They'd all shaved, obviously showered and changed into clean clothes. I enquired if the rooms were satisfactory and whether they had been in contact with their families. They all confirmed in the affirmative. I then went on to explain that the Chief Inspector would question them first. He needed a full resumé of everything that had occurred as his Government would need to take the matter up with the Somalian authorities and the United Nations. The Englishmen all sighed heavily and suggested that they had already done that. The Chief Inspector insisted however, and I listened intently while they went over every detail, from the moment the Sara had first come into view. Unfortunately there was no mention by any of them about Semtex. The policeman again took volumes of notes.

I pitched in with some queries regarding what happened before the Sara departed. The Inspector had already covered most of it but I really just wanted to get in on the act 'I'm really interested to know how you actually managed to get the Somalians to back off?' I asked. 'From what we know of past kidnaps, they either take captives or blow up the boat involved.'

'But we had their two crew members as hostages,' Billy answered. 'They weren't going to let them get killed, which was the threat we put out.'

'I can see that,' I responded, 'but once you'd handed over the two men, surely you would have been defenceless again. You tell us you only had their two automatic rifles and a pistol. With the gun power you say they had, I can't see how that would have deterred them from attacking you?'

They all looked at me in wide-eyed silence. The Chief Inspector stopped writing up his notes and stared up at them. I had obviously made a point that struck home.

Billy spoke first. 'I think we got lucky,' he said. 'At about that time the RAF plane appeared. I guess it must have frightened them off.' Damien and Justin nodded their heads in slightly over enthusiastic agreement. I wasn't convinced though.

'Are you sure there wasn't another reason why they backed off?' I fired back. 'You said originally the RAF plane didn't hang around long because they were flying over Somalian territory. When the aircraft disappeared surely there would have been time for the pirates to come back at you?' There was another short period of silence.

'I can only repeat that I guess we got lucky,' Billy eventually said. 'Look, what is this? I don't think it matters now why they backed off. We're here now, and we're safe, thank God. Why is it important to know the reason for them backing off. I haven't a clue why they did. Perhaps they had better things to do.' The other two again nodded their heads. I paused for a few moments before speaking again.

'Well I think there's something you're not telling me,' I said next. Then I told them the real reason for me being in the area. I described how the Semtex had been stolen in France and the trail that led from there to Gibraltar. I paused, took a deep breath then said, 'I put it to you all, that you smuggled some of that cargo on board the Addela at Heraklion and that somehow or another you used it in your bargaining negotiations with the pirates.' My words stunned them all. The Chief Inspector snorted alongside me.

'That's preposterous,' Billy eventually stammered out in anger. Similar reactions of incredulity followed from the other two. 'Why would we want to get involved in that sort of thing?' Billy shouted at me. 'We are all wealthy men. That's a ridiculous thing to suggest.'

For some minutes the Chief Inspector and I pursued them on the subject, but they all pleaded complete innocence of anything to do with the Semtex. We had agreed beforehand not to pressurise them on the matter until we had questioned the Greeks. So shortly afterwards we moved along the corridor to their room.

* * * * *

The two Greeks were in similar accommodation further down the passage, although they were housed in only one room. A policeman was also stationed outside the door. They hadn't shaved, but it appeared they'd changed their clothes. Istvan accompanied us and agreed to help out as translator when required. We began, as we had with the others, with the Chief Inspector asking most of the questions. The process took longer due to the language difficulties. This time though I butted in earlier with my own questions. 'Did you have any doubts about the Englishmen when you agreed to undertake the voyage?' I asked.

Zachary and Nathaniel both looked at each other. Nathaniel eventually answered.

'Yes, I did.' Then, with the aid of Istvan's interpretation, he described his doubts about the purpose of such a long trip, the cost involved and why the Englishmen would want to go all the way to Hong Kong on a boat like theirs.

At that point I changed my tack. My real purpose on this investigation I explained to them was to track down criminals who had stolen a large quantity of Semtex. My belief was that the three Englishmen were the criminals involved, I said. The Greeks looked at each other but made no reply. So I asked Istvan to spell out to them in their own language what I had said. From what I gathered, he also added that if they were found to be involved in smuggling Semtex, they would both incur lengthy jail sentences.

For many moments they both remained silent. Nathaniel lit up a cigarette, puffed on it energetically and repeatedly flicked the ash into an ashtray on the table in front of him. Then said, 'I knew from the start that there was something not quite right about what they were doing. I felt that when we first met up with them.'

'Did you feel the same?' I said to Zachary.

'Yes, but we were short of work, we needed the money. Times are hard,' he said holding out his arms to complement the reluctant expression on his face.

'I swear to you we knew nothing about Semtex when we sailed from Heraklion,' Nathaniel said and again drew deeply on the cigarette.

'But did you become aware of it later on?' Again they both looked at each other. A cloud of cigarette smoke circled around Nathaniel's head. Eventually Zachary nodded his head at his son.

'Yes,' Nathaniel said. 'They had it hidden in their berths and they wanted to use it to frighten off the pirates. That's when we first found out about it. They made me detonate a charge into the sea between the two boats to frighten the pirates away.'

'And you did?' I questioned while looking him straight in the face. There were more draws on the cigarette before he stubbed it out and answered.

'Yes,' he said. 'At the time we thought it would be our only hope of survival.'

'And did it work?'

'To begin with yes.'

'We were all very frightened,' Zachary cut in. 'Even the Englishmen.'

'I can understand that,' I said. 'Did you find out how much Semtex was on board your boat.'

Nathaniel described the quantity. 'They are crazy men,' he added. 'They could have got us all killed, even before the pirates appeared. I swear to you we knew nothing about it till that time.' He lit up another cigarette.

'Did you discharge all the Semtex in the sea?' I asked next.

'No,' he scoffed and drew heavily on the new cigarette. 'It would have killed all of us.'

'But we have searched your boat and there is no trace of any Semtex on board now.'

Again they looked at each other. There were more moments of silence. Zachary spoke next. 'The English, they used it as a bargaining tool for our safe passage,' he said. 'We guessed the Somalians would come after us again once their men were safely back on board the Sara. So when the three men boarded the dinghy, we put the Semtex in the dinghy with them. Then I put our boat on full throttle, while the others covered the dinghy with the rifles, ready to fire if the Sara followed us. We'd said to their people on the radio that we would fire on the dinghy if they came after us. By then we were heading into international waters, and the aeroplane kept returning. I think it was the aeroplane that saved us.'

* * * * *

After we had finished the interview with the Greeks, the Chief inspector, Istvan and I went downstairs to the hotel bar to discuss the situation. For my part I was prepared to believe the Greeks explanation. It all fitted in. Istvan was also convinced his people were telling the truth, although of course his purpose in being there was to protect their interests. The Chief Inspector though still had reservations.

'They could have invented the story to get themselves off the hook,' he said. 'Why, having carried the Semtex that far, would the English want to hand it over when their safety from the pirates was in sight? Both groups confirm that the aeroplane was around. You had been in touch by telephone and they knew the warship was in the area. To me it seems illogical for them to hand over the Semtex at that stage. The pirates certainly wouldn't give them any money for it.'

'Perhaps they guessed we might search the Addela,' I replied.

'Maybe, but at that point in time they were unaware that we knew anything about the Semtex,' the Chief Inspector continued. 'You say you never mentioned it until they were here in this hotel. If I had been them, having made all that effort to get that far with the cargo, I think I would have been tempted to take a chance. If we subsequently discovered it on board, they could blame the Greeks for it being there. It would have been difficult one way or the other for us to prove who'd actually taken the Semtex onto the Addela.'

So the Inspector and I went back to see the Englishmen. He was right in what he had said. Billy's response was, 'The Greeks had the Semtex on board already. If there was a chance it would save our lives we were happy to encourage them to hand it over. I repeat what I said to you before,' he continued. 'We are all reasonably wealthy men who have families and substantial businesses. Why would we want to dabble around with Semtex, for goodness sake? Do us a favour. Give us some credit for a little bit of intelligence.'

The Chief Inspector pursued them on the matter, but they held fast to their story. He then informed them that he could not release them until the Semtex issue had been resolved.

'That's preposterous,' Billy responded. 'As if we haven't been through enough already. If you want to keep us here, under house arrest, you'll have to charge us with something. If you don't we will instruct our lawyers.' The other two nodded their heads and mumbled words of agreement.

I looked at the Chief Inspector. From his notebook he produced a piece of paper, which he flattened out on the table in front of the Englishmen. 'This is a warrant to detain you, without charge, for seven days,' he said. 'I must again remind you that this is a serious international incident with repercussions for a number of countries. We cannot let it go lightly, especially now that it's been established that Semtex was on board the Addela. So you see it is impossible to let you just walk out of here without a complete investigation. I will check with my Government and see if they are prepared to allow your lawyers to visit you, but I doubt it, as they would have no jurisdiction in this country. If we make a charge you will be entitled to have a lawyer from Djibouti to represent you. You will, of course, be allowed to move around the hotel, under escort, as you wish, but you will not be allowed to go outside these premises.' Three stony faces glared back at the Inspector when he finished speaking.

### CHAPTER TWELVE

Progress on the matter of the Semtex was becoming difficult. I was unable to shift either the Greeks or the Englishmen out of their conflicting accounts, although I still had up my sleeve the statement from Charles Meredith to fall back on.

During those fractious days there was a press conference, attended by all the media. Details of the attempted kidnap by Somalian pirates had by then become an international story. The five members of the crew were suddenly celebrities. One morning in a reception room at the hotel, a large body of sweating television, radio and newspaper journalists gathered. The temperature outside was in the high forties and the air conditioning in the hotel was failing to cope. The crew, myself, the Chief Inspector, the Greek consul and a member of the Djibouti government, all sat on a raised dais, behind a long, low, white clothed table. In front of us flashbulbs flared like strobe lights, continually blinding our eyes. TV cameras protruded from every direction, while microphones multiplied in front of us on the table by the second.

It was chaos. All the members of the crew proceeded to behave like deranged delinquents, arguing amongst themselves in response to the questions thrown at them. Before we entered the room I had suggested to all of them that they shouldn't mention the subject of Semtex. I'd said it would be better for all concerned if they just stuck to the events regarding the cyclone, the pirates and the attempted kidnap, details of which they all more or less agreed on. For a short time things went according to plan, then the inevitable question about how they managed to escape capture became the undoing of everything. Differing versions were aired by Billy, then Nathaniel about the Semtex, which resulted in a bout of verbal mud slinging between the five of them. To the attendant media it was like lighting the blue touch paper of a firework. Up until that moment the issue of Semtex had not leaked out anywhere. Suddenly all the journalists in the room realised they were onto a bigger story. The majority of them instantly reached for their mobile phones. Bedlam ensued. I had to intervene to try and restore order.

'I am afraid that subject is sub judice due to the ongoing police investigation,' I bellowed into the microphones on the table. 'At this juncture we cannot answer any further questions on that matter until the police investigation is complete.' The furore in front of me became insane.

Billy's words about them all 'being under house arrest, at the hotel,' fanned the flames further. Flashlights exploded. In various languages more questions were bombarded at us like cannon fire. The noise was deafening. In the end I had to call for the conference to be closed. Police were needed to restore order and clear the room, while I attempted to bundle the crew back up to their rooms.

'Well I expect you're pleased with yourself now,' I said to Billy on the way up in the lift.

'Delighted,' he replied. 'At least now this farce is well and truly out in the open,' he continued with a smirk on his face. 'Perhaps we can at last get some justice.'

Within what seemed like minutes the story had broken worldwide. We were featured on all the major news channels. The journalists continued to besiege our hotel. Fortunately the police kept them outside, but life became almost impossible. My phone never stopped. I was plagued with calls from lawyers, the Foreign office, TV, and press. In the end I had to switch off my mobile and rely on my laptop for communication.

* * * * *

I was in a hole. The progress I had made on the missing Semtex and the likely prosecution of the three Englishmen as a significant group of perpetrators in the crime had been blown apart. The Foreign Office told me a team of leading officials had already been dispatched from London to take over the running of events. The implication was that I'd made a cock-up.

For some time I remained in the sanctuary of my hotel room and brooded. To go outside anywhere ran the risk of being confronted by the media pack. I still had Charles Meredith's statement in hand, which until then I'd deliberately held back. Several times I discussed the matter with the Chief Inspector. He advised delay until the media furore died down. Then, out of the blue, I got an e-mail from Miss Lee asking me to contact her urgently on her mobile.

'Have you seen the Singapore News?' she said to me almost as soon as she answered my call.

'No, why?' I responded.

'Because that man Meredith, we took a statements from in Sri Lanka, called for a press conference on arrival in Singapore to denounce what he told us.'

'What!!' I bellowed into the phone.

Miss Lee continued. 'He said he'd heard about the plight of his friends with the pirates and wanted to correct any misapprehension as far as he was concerned. He says he was forced into making his statement under duress, surrounded by police and customs officials, who were threatening to impound their boat and arrest them for carrying Semtex.'

'It was nothing like that,' I replied. 'You know that. You were there.'

'Yes. I know it and you know it, but that's not what Charles Meredith is saying. You can read about it all on the internet,' she said. I rang off with a promise to phone her back, then checked the details on my laptop.

Miss Lee had been right. A telecast version of the press conference was on the net. I exploded when I saw Meredith concocting such lies. I realised I had a real problem on my hands and phoned Miss Lee back straightaway. Her base was at Singapore where she was employed by M16, as a co-ordinating officer for their agents in the Far East. The typing and shorthand were just one of her many talents, she added and said that if I needed help she would be happy to come to Djibouti. I promised to keep in touch.

Shortly afterwards the Foreign Office people from London arrived and I was required to bring them up to date on all aspects of the investigation. This time I was the one being interrogated. They asked why I hadn't released details of Meredith's signed statement. My reasons for the delay didn't particularly impress them.

Sitting alone in my room afterwards I decided to put in a call to Charles Meredith. He was on board the Miranda. He refused to discuss the matter of his statement and said that any further communication would have to be through his solicitors. Then he gave me the name and address of a London firm of lawyers. Eventually I rang off having made no progress.

Machinations were continuing around the hotel between the Foreign Office people, the Englishmen, the two Greeks, the local police and the Greek consul, from which I was excluded. Talking to those involved afterwards it appeared that innuendo and vivid imaginations were playing a major part in the proceedings. I was afraid that a compromise deal would be arranged to get everybody off the hook.

I phoned Miss Lee again. She was able to confirm that the Miranda was still docked in Singapore. I said I wanted to fly there to confront Meredith and his crew. I asked if there was anyway she could use her contacts to stop the boat from sailing before I arrived. She said she would try.

I then explained to my government colleagues that I was going to Singapore to re-interview Meredith and pleaded with them not to finalise anything until I got back. On this matter I confided with the Chief Inspector, who I still had a healthy respect for, in the matter of upholding of the law. He agreed to telephone me if any sort of deal looked likely in my absence.

Miss Lee got back to me on my mobile. Somehow she had managed to wangle an extra customs inspection to take place on the Miranda. 'If you have influence anything is possible in this part of the world,' she said with a giggle. An image of her neat figure and glorious legs came into my mind. There was a flight that evening to Singapore and she said she'd meet me off it.

* * * * *

I didn't like being taken for a ride and I knew that's what Billy Tennant and Charles Meredith were doing. My professional pride had taken a hammering. Their actions had caused my employers to doubt my ability to do the job. Travelling eastwards against my normal time clock made me even more determined to ensure that those buggers rotted in jail for as long as possible. From then on it became a personal vendetta between me and them.

When I walked out of the arrivals gate at Changi airport Miss Lee was waiting for me, holding up a placard with my name written on it. Her welcoming smile immediately disarmed me. 'It's good of you to organise this for me,' I said.

'I'm only doing my job,' she replied while maintaining the smile. 'The car is not far away,' she added and led the way. I needed to follow at a lively pace to keep up with the click-clack of her high heels.

She had arranged suitable accommodation for me at a modern hotel near the harbour, with internet facilities in my room. In the foyer before leaving for the night, she said, 'now, if there is anything you want, you must call me immediately.' The alluring look that accompanied her words resulted in a stirring in my loins. Something I hadn't experienced for a long time. However, she quickly turned and walked away. For some moments I stood and watched the rhythmical sway of her hips as she crossed the foyer.

After unpacking my meagre possessions I decided to get some air and walk to the quayside. Using Miss Lee's directions, the Miranda's classically elegant lines were not difficult to find. When I got near I kept well out of sight. I wanted my meeting with the crew next day to be a surprise. That night sleep didn't come easy. During its short intervals there were, however, regular visions of the nubile Miss Lee.

Next morning I breakfasted early in my room, but it wasn't long before a buzzing on my doorbell interrupted me. Miss Lee entered dressed in another short skirt, part of a body hugging, smart, blue, two piece suit, under which she wore a pale yellow blouse. Another pair of skyscraper heels featured on her feet. 'I thought you'd want to get at these people before they have chance to think,'she said, referring to the early hour.

Soon we were racing down to the harbour in a souped-up, blue, Vauxhall Tigra that matched the colour of her suit. I was glad it wasn't a long journey.

Customs vehicles and officials were gathered around the Miranda as we drew up alongside. I could see Charles Meredith on deck talking to one of them. When he saw me walking up the gangplank the scowl on his face deepened. Miss Lee was following on behind. 'I wondered if you might be behind all this,' he said while pointing at the customs people.

'I don't like being messed about Mister Meredith,' I responded. 'You've crossed the wrong man this time. I need to talk to you. Can we go into the saloon please?'

'I think I made it clear on the phone that any future dialogue between us would need to be conducted through my solicitors,' he responded.

'You're welcome to call them if you wish, but I need to get a few things straight with you first. If you're not willing to talk to me now, I assure you that I have the authority to have this boat impounded and all of you taken to the local police station for further questioning. There, of course, you would be entitled to have a solicitor present. I am happy to do this either way. It's up to you.'

He looked at me with daggered eyes, then growled, 'Oh come on then, let's get it over with. We want to get back out to sea.'

'In that respect you are totally in my hands,'I said. He stalked off towards the saloon. I followed while Miss Lee spoke to the customs people.

Three more horror struck faces greeted me when we got into the saloon. Alicia, Lawrence and Robert were seated around the table, in the throes of finishing their breakfast.

'Good morning,' I said. None of them moved. Alicia's mouth had dropped open. 'I assure you that this meeting is as painful for me as I am sure it is for you.' I added then pulled up a chair close to the table and sat down. Meredith sat next to Alicia. Miss Lee remained standing alongside me. From her briefcase she handed me a copy of Meredith's statement. I laid it out on the table in between the marmalade and the toast.

'Can I ask you to confirm that this is your signature? 'I asked and shoved a copy in front of him. Grudgingly he acknowledged it was and growled something I didn't catch.

'And this is what you told me at that time and date?' I questioned while pointing at his signature.

'But we were under duress,' Meredith cut in. 'You threatened us with jail and had this boat searched from top to bottom. I was prepared to say anything to get you off. We were in a foreign port. The boat was teeming with police. We were frightened out of our wits.'

'It was not teeming with police. They were customs officers who were searching the boat for your benefit, so you could be on your way with a clean bill of health. You know that. You'd already told me on the telephone that you thought that the other three men had brought Semtex on board at Gibraltar, which you discovered in Crete and you confirmed that in this statement,' I said holding up the document. 'Now you've gone live to the media, saying that what you told me is all a pack of lies. Why did you tell me all of this in the first place?' I said emphasising my words by pointing at his signature on copy of his statement. 'If it wasn't true, why did you say it? Can you please tell me that?'

Four vacant, tense faces looked back across at me over the table, before Meredith spoke again.

'Because we were confused, frightened, call it what you will,' he said. 'We had recently sailed through a category four cyclone. Because of the various exploits of our so called friends, there were only four of us left to cope with that and the rest of the journey. We were all tired, exhausted, worn out. Our heads were swimming with all the conjecture surrounding the whole enterprise. The Miranda is my treasured possession. It's named after our daughter,' he added placing his hand on Alicia's arm. 'We could see ourselves being stuck there and getting dragged into the mire of protracted legal proceedings through no fault of our own. We just wanted to be on our way and on to Hong Kong. And you were determined to take a statement,' he added pointing at me, 'so that's what I gave you.'

'So do you still maintain that what you say in this statement is not true?' I asked and again held up the copy.

'I can only repeat that we have nothing more to say on the matter without our lawyers being present,' Meredith replied. The other three around the table remained silent.

'So who did bring the Semtex on board this ship?' I asked. 'Was it you?'

Meredith scoffed, then again shrugged his shoulders. For a moment I made no comment and shuffled the copy statements around in front of me. 'Well Mr Meredith,' I said next, 'you have brought this upon yourself. Unless you are prepared to clarify the situation to me here and now, I am going to have to instruct the local police to hold you as accessories to the crime of smuggling Semtex.' I lifted my head and looked directly at him. His eyes avoided me. The other three looked startled. He said nothing more.

'Well then you leave me no choice,' I responded. 'The customs people will impound the Miranda until the police arrive. You will not be allowed to sail.' Miss Lee had already spoken to the customs about that possibility when we came on board.

No further words were exchanged. Once I was out on deck I telephoned the local police, who Miss Lee had also previously contacted and then the British Embassy to advise them of the situation. While I was doing that Miss Lee was instructing the customs people accordingly.

* * * * *

'I just don't understand that man,' I said to Miss Lee as she drove the Tigra back into town. 'What on earth persuaded him to change his story?'

'They may still be in league with the other Englishmen,' she responded. 'We don't know much about their past history together. This could all be part of a bigger plot. They could be phoning each other, even now, twisting everything around to suit their purposes.'

'H'm,' I responded, while clinging on to my seatbelt.

I decided there and then that Miss Lee was no facile bimbo. Her mind had worked faster than mine on what we had just encountered. If this wasn't going to be my last major job for the department I badly needed her by my side to help out. My flight back to Djibouti was not due until the evening so I suggested lunch. She took me to a restaurant on the fifteenth floor of a towering block, with a spectacular view of the city and the harbour. There, for two hours, with beguiling eyes, she introduced me to a collection of eastern dishes, while we discussed the innuendos of the case. By the end of it all I was hooked by her charms. I suggested we go to my hotel room for the rest of the afternoon and she agreed.

I mentioned before that the life of an MI6 agent, who's constantly on the road, is a lonely and barren one in terms of extended personal relationships with members of the opposite sex. Most of the time there are only limited opportunities, usually with people who you know nothing about, so as you get older you tend to turn your back on those that are available. With Miss Lee though, I had no thoughts of turning my back. Our time in bed together in my hotel room was another glorious induction into eastern ways. Her exotic nubile body, long delicate fingers and soft ruby lips carried my erotic senses into sensual heaven. By the time we had finished, matters relating to Semtex and yachts had almost disappeared from my mind.

I must have fallen asleep. I do remember however, being woken and aroused by a journey she was weaving over my body with her lips and fingers. 'You'd better start moving soon, your flight's in two hours,' I heard her whisper gently into my ear. I didn't want to move at all, but I knew if I didn't, and she persisted with what she was doing, we'd remain exactly where we were for all of those two hours.

While I showered my mind slowly reverted back to my work. I realised that in Djibouti there had been no one to watch my back, no one to pick up on the little things I'd missed in all the chaos. The arrival of the people from the FO and my apparent relegation in the pecking order had been a wake up call. What I needed was an assistant who I could trust. Miss Lee, I thought, was the answer. I broached the subject with her as we completed dressing. She confirmed she was willing, all I had to do was persuade her boss, she said. It took me half an hour on the telephone to get him to agree. Somehow, in the interim, she had managed to get herself a seat on the same flight as me that evening. Afterwards all the enhanced acceleration of the Tigra was required to get us to the airport on time. I was still shaking when we sat down alongside each other for the flight back to Djibouti.

### END OF PART ONE

### PART TWO

### CHAPTER THIRTEEN

I was not best pleased to discover when I got back to Djibouti that while I'd been away machinations were indeed afoot to agree some sort of compromise deal for the five members of the crew. Billy had been using Justin's media talents and contacts to popularise the myth of their heroics. His tack being that they had already suffered enough at the hands of the Somalian pirates, without having some trumped up charge about Semtex brought against them, due to the incompetence of MI6. He was making out that my department, or more particularly me, had lost trail of the Semtex at Gibraltar and that I was trying to pin the crime on the three of them to make up for my shortcomings. The story was riding high in the UK press, in which the three of them were being lauded as brave Englishmen, who'd seen off the Somalian foe.

In contrast the Greeks were not in any way media or politically savvy. All they wanted was to get home to their families without any charges hanging over them. Both versions of the two nationalities evidence indicated that the Semtex was apparently heading to Somalia and no way were either the Greek or British governments going to follow it there. Charles Meredith's outcry in Singapore had also stirred the pot further in the Englishman's favour. So I was left dangling in a big black hole.

My conversations with the Chief Inspector there were terse. I reminded him that before I left there he had agreed to maintain the possibility of prosecutions while I was away and to let me know if matters were going against us. Mumbling semi-apologies in his stuffy office I got the impression he had been bought off. Cash in hand to someone in his position, in a place like Djibouti, was far more beneficial to his family than a lot of liberal minded platitudes from a UK civil servant.

Having the glamorous Miss Lee as my companion did somewhat help to defray the pressure I was under. Her chirpy manner and quick mind kept me on an even keel. We had agreed, on the flight back to Djibouti, that it would be better all round if we had separate rooms at the hotel there. I was under enough scrutiny without being accused of 'sleeping' on the job.

Dealings with the five members of the crew continued to be difficult. By then the Englishmen were confident they had the upper hand in the proceedings. When I presented them with copies of the statement signed by Charles Meredith, they dismissed it as irrelevant.

'Charles has already gone on record as saying that those statements were not true and were made under duress,' Billy argued back at me.

'But why would he make such a statement in the first place, even allowing for any duress he felt under?' I retorted.

'You'll have to ask him that,' Billy replied. 'Perhaps he was pissed off with us for messing up his voyage, I don't know.' Miss Lee was with me throughout those interviews and took notes, although she never said anything. The two men from the Foreign Office also sat in, but I received very little help from either of them in trying to untangle the conflicting stories. My feelings were that they wanted to sweep the whole matter under the carpet and be gone from Djibouti without their precious career reputations being damaged. Interviewing the two Greeks presented similar problems, even though I was of the persuasion to believe their story about the Semtex. Istvan also seemed anxious to clear the matter up and get his men home.

Miss Lee and I were indulging in a coffee at a nearby café after one particularly gruelling interview session. I had just spent an hour with the Englishmen, followed by a similar period of time with the Greeks, and had made no real progress with either.

'I have a feeling this matter will be taken out of my hands within the next day or so,' I said to her once some of the bitter liquid had slipped down my throat. 'I think everybody is anxious to be moving on and at the moment I'm the one who's preventing that.'

'You don't think there are going to be any prosecutions do you?' she responded.

'No I don't, not while we are all here anyway.'

'So they all get away with it.'

'Probably. Maybe not. I don't know. Perhaps when they all get back to their various homes a case will be put together, but, if you think about the cost and the effort, I wonder if anybody will bother. The story so far is that the Semtex is now with the Somalians. Nobody in this world is going to chase down there after it.'

Miss Lee looked at me intently with her sharp blue eyes. 'Is that justice?' she said.

I shrugged my shoulders and took another gulp of the coffee. 'In this job we are not often party to justice. That's for the police and the lawyers. We just tend to reach conclusions relating to our enquiries and move on. Justice is for the others to sort out.'

She frowned at me. 'That's a very cynical attitude.'

'It's a cynical world,' I said. We sat for the rest of the time in silence while we finished our coffees.

* * * * *

Later that day a telephone call on my mobile jolted me out of my despair. I was in my hotel room working on the laptop. 'Is that you Mister Naysmith,' a cockney voice at the other end said. For a moment I couldn't place the caller. 'It's Charlie Mayhew here,' he continued. I sat up in my chair.

'Hullo Charlie.'

'This case you were telling me about Mister N,' he began. 'I've been following some of the coverage of it on the TV. It seems to me you're not coming out of it very well. They appear to be making out that you're the wrongdoer.'

'That's about the gist of it Charlie.'

'Well that's not right, so I asked around some more with my mates down in Gib. One or two of them are still pretty close to the action there. I swear to you Mister N I'm completely straight now. It's just that what I saw on the tele annoyed me.'

'Well I thank you for that Charlie.'

He continued. 'The word among those in the know in Gib is that this Semtex stuff was actually passed on by some Muslims to the owner of the boat, the man called Charles Meredith.' Charlie's words stunned me into silence, so he carried on. 'From what I gathered from the TV it appeared that you were apportioning blame for the Semtex onto the men who were involved with the pirates. My pals tell me you're on the wrong horse with that one.'

'Can you be sure Charlie?'

'No I can't be sure Mister N. I repeat, no way am I involved in anything like that now, but my mates would have no reason to lie. They don't know you, or any of the other men, and they wouldn't be involved in anything to do with that sort of stuff anyway, but they do know what's going on underground down there.'

'You've shocked me Charlie. I've never thought of this case that way round. Let me have your number,' I said.

I spent some time thanking him and promised to keep in touch, then slumped back in my chair and spent a long time looking up at the ceiling. Gradually a whole host of unanswered innuendos slowly fell into place.

Quickly I went down to the hotel lobby to look for Miss Lee. There another shock was awaiting me. She was sharing a side table in the hotel bar with Damien Smith. They both had drinks in front of them. She was gazing attentively at him in a manner she had used with me on our first luncheon date.

'Oh there you are Ali,' I said as I approached them. 'I've been looking for you everywhere.'

'Can you give me a few minutes,' she responded instantly. 'I'm busy at the moment.' The two of them looked up at me with smiles on their faces. Her rejection stung and I felt angry. I grumbled something to myself which wasn't very polite and stalked off upstairs to my room. It was the best part of an hour before there was a knock on my door. When I opened it Miss Lee was standing outside bearing a smug look.

'I would remind you Ali that we are here to work,' I began. 'As you know, at the moment, our theory on this case is not going very well, so I don't think there's time for fraternising with the very people who are trying to discredit us.' I stood aside and let her in.

After she'd shut the door I turned around to face her. The same coy smile was still on her face. 'Do you want to hear what I have found out, or not?'

'Has it got anything to do with our work,' I snapped back.

'Very much so,' she replied. 'Can I sit down?'

I beckoned to a chair. She sat down and crossed her legs, revealing large quantities of sleek thigh.

'Well?' I asked.

'I've just had a very interesting conversation with Damien Smith.'

'I could see that. And?'

'He is still furious with Billy Tennant. I mean, sleeping with his wife and then filming it all!'

'I can well imagine he is.'

'So, to a willing ear, he was prepared to get it off his chest and reveal a few more home truths.'

'Go on. Now I'm interested. I hope you didn't come to any arrangement with him.'

'Would I do a thing like that, without first consulting you?'

'Huh.'

'Well, it seems that beside filming his female conquests in action, Billy and Justin have a history of producing pornographic DVDs for the commercial market. Apparently it's one of their money making schemes.' Miss Lee continued. 'According to Damien it started when Billy began to indulge in his hobby of voyeurism. Having made amateur videos for his own pleasure he realised, if it was all done professionally, with proper actors and studio type production they could make some money. Justin has been involved in the entertainment and media business most of his life. He had the contacts and the know-how.' I remained silent and listened closely. 'Damien says he was never party to any of this mucky little business, to quote him. But he says the other two did make a lot of money out of it. Now, however, having discovered that his wife had been lured into Billy's dalliance in voyeurism, he bears a massive grudge and is keen on revenge.'

'You have been a busy girl,' I said.

'I'm not just a pretty face,' she replied, gave me another one of her coy looks and continued. 'Damien swears that the three of them were never responsible or involved with bringing Semtex onto the Miranda. What they brought on board at Gibraltar, in those packages, was high quality pornographic DVDs, with glamorous actors, produced for a specialist market in Hong Kong. They'd organised delivery by courier to Gibraltar and then were going to use the Miranda to take them on to Hong Kong.'

I sat back and looked at her. 'OK, but when and where does the Semtex come on board?'

'Damien is adamant it wasn't taken on board by any of them. His guess is that Charles, or one of the others were responsible for that and then switched the parcels to blame it on them.'

'But why would they do that?'

'Who knows. He says that perhaps they'd had a tip off that you were on their tail. Somehow, he says, one of the others, his guess is still Charles, found the DVDs, maybe by accident, dumped them somewhere and put the Semtex packets in their place. The DVDs never reappeared again. Damien and Justin couldn't believe it when Charles emptied packets of Semtex out of the bags at the Megaron hotel, not the DVDs. He told me they were too dumbstruck to react because they didn't know what had happened to their cargo. He and Billy were still at each others throats over Angelina and so at that time getting anything agreed between the three of them was virtually impossible. It was only afterwards, when the Miranda had set sail and the wives had gone home that the three of them formulated some sort of plan for the Semtex.'

'Ok, but why did they take the Semtex onto the Addela if it wasn't anything to do with them? They must have known it was a dangerous cargo to be carrying on the high seas. They've admitted that they didn't know how to handle the stuff.' Miss Lee looked at me intently with her slanting blue eyes.

'Patrick, you and I are basically honest people. To make the sort of money these men have made, you have to have bent the rules somewhere along the line. You just don't make that sort of money by always being totally honest and above board. And those sort of people hate to lose at anything. They especially hate to lose money. Losing money means losing face. I expect it had cost Billy and Justin a lot of cash and effort to produce those videos. Then they disappeared and they were stuck with the Semtex. They couldn't hand it over to the authorities, because Charles would have accused them of bringing it onto the Miranda, so they came up with a plan to recoup some of their losses. Every commodity, even Semtex, has a price and a buyer somewhere. They didn't know you were on their tail, and these types are used to getting their own way, one way or another, as you've found out.'

I sat for a minute looking at her. Her sexuality was again infringing on my thoughts so I got up out of my chair and paced around the room.

'All right,' I said as I began to pace. 'But why is Damien telling you all this? Despite your undoubted charms and powers of persuasion, he must realise that what he tells you will get back to me. While they've been in Djibouti their story is that they knew nothing about the Semtex until they were about to be boarded by the pirates. Why is he now going out on a limb with this version of the events?'

'Because he's been cuckolded by Billy Tennant,' Miss Lee said resolutely. 'What greater loss of face is there for a man than that? Sure, he may be going out on a limb about the Semtex, but I think he has a feeling like you have, that the matter will eventually be lost in the glamour wash of their escape from the pirates. Of course he knows that by telling me it will get back to you, but if by doing that he can expose Billy and his pornography sideline it will provide him with sweet revenge for what he did with his wife.'

I said nothing for a few moments and paced some more. 'Would he tell me all that on record?' I asked.

'I very much doubt it, he virtually told me so when I suggested it. Patrick, I'm not naïve enough to believe Damien told me what he did because he likes my charming manner. I think he wants you to go after Charles Meredith or one the others, who were the real perpetrators with regard to the Semtex. And he hopes that all manner of hell will descend on Billy, regarding the pornographic videos, when they get back to England.'

* * * * *

Miss Lee was quite right. When, later on, I broached the subject privately with Damien, he denied all knowledge of what Miss Lee had told to me. 'I think she must have had too many Pimm's that afternoon,' he said to me with a chuckle. 'Why would I say that?' he continued. 'Damn attractive woman though. You're a lucky man working with her,' he concluded and gave me a wink.

That evening while dining with Miss Lee at Djibouti's most respectable restaurant I told her about my conversation with Charlie Mayhew.

'So there you are,' she responded, while angling her head at me. 'That bears out what Damien said to me.'

Even though I was addled with all the peregrinations of this investigation, I somehow managed, later on, to indulge Miss Lee in her more specific demands in my hotel bedroom. As a result I was able to face the following day with a little more resolution. It certainly proved to be difficult one.

* * * * *

Despite my protests it appeared that the whole circus we had created at Djibouti was about to move on. The two Greeks, with one of their country's Navy boats as an escort, were going back to Heraklion aboard the Addela. The Englishmen, accompanied by the Foreign Office officials, were flying to London by passenger aircraft. The matter of any prosecutions over the Semtex would be continued at a later date, I was told. 'We can't achieve much more by staying here,' my Foreign Office colleague said to me. 'Their passports will be withheld, so they won't be able to go far until the matter is completely cleared up,' he added.

In that respect he was right. The media aspect in Djibouti had become out of control. The escapade of the five crew members of the Addela with Somalian pirates had also become a world event. My worry at the time was that they'd be hijacked by a devious news crew willing to pay exorbitant sums of money for their exclusive story. In a place like Djibouti anything like that was possible.

Unfortunately I was still left with egg on my face and no real specific role to play in the ongoing investigation. For my own benefit I needed to grasp hold of the few straws of information that had come my way and shake them vigorously until something positive dropped out.

Once more I was fortunate to have another lucky break. My colleague in England, the one who had been originally sent down to Falmouth to scout around, came up with something very interesting. His major hobby is horse riding. Gymkhanas, show jumping, three day eventing that sort of thing. All of his family are involved. They own horses that are kept at the stables of a professional trainer in Surrey. Anyway, during his inquiries in Falmouth he found out that Alicia Meredith was also a leading light in the horsey world. At the time he thought nothing more about it. Everything he'd discovered about the Merediths up until that point seemed to be clean and above board. It was only when the publicity about the hijacking broke in England that he happened upon the information. He knew of course that they were part of the original Miranda crew. One day he was talking to his horse trainer. He asked him if he knew Alicia Meredith. The trainer, who is nationally renowned, knows most of the people in the horse world.

'Yes,' he said. 'I do know Alicia Meredith.' Furthermore he revealed it was rumoured that the Merediths were involved in a bit of a scam, shipping thoroughbred Grullo mares and stallions from America to the Far East. Apparently it had been going on for some years. According to the trainer, wealthy Arabs were also involved. Grullo horses had become a bit of a specialist commodity in the States. My colleague thought the information would be useful to me and he was right. Then I remembered the painting on the wall in the saloon of the Miranda.

These snippets of new information, plus Damien's revelations to Miss Lee, provided the motivation I needed to continue with my inquiries. With a little coercion on my part, my boss gave me clearance to carry on with my investigation and the authority to retain Miss Lee for the interim. 'I'll give you until the end of the month,' he said to me curtly on the phone as our conversation was drawing to a close. 'And that's all,' he added. 'After then it becomes a police matter.'

I broke the news to Miss Lee, and received a flashing smile, before she cradled her arms around my neck.

### CHAPTER FOURTEEN

I needed a new strategy. Until then my brief only entailed discovering the route of the Semtex from its original storage depot in France, and the arrest and hopefully the prosecution, of the people who had been involved. If the Greeks and the Englishmen were to be believed the last drop-off took the explosives into Somalia, so there was no way I could follow it there.

However, with Miss Lee's assistance I delved into the internet to find out all I could about Grullo horses. We discovered web sites all over America advertising the stock. Prices, to my uneducated eye, didn't appear to be prohibitive, but most breeders only seemed to have a limited number of those horses to sell.

I left Miss Lee to pursue that aspect while I set about the affairs of Mr and Mrs Charles Meredith. Unfortunately I discovered that I had failed in my attempts to hold them and the Miranda in Singapore. Charles had been as good as his word. By making a big fuss in high places he had engineered his clearance to sail on to Hong Kong. At the time I had been occupied by matters in Djibouti.

Re-concentrating my enquiries on their background in England did enable me to make progress. My colleague there, Haydn, had made some more interesting revelations. The Merediths did have a history of horse trading. Also, equestrian orientated millionaires, and Arab billionaires were regularly included in their social gatherings. Haydn also found out that they kept a stock of horses at a professional trainers stable in Macau. While I was in touch, I related what Damien had said to Miss Lee and asked him to make enquiries about Billy Tennant's porno-video productions venture.

At that point I decided that going backwards was the only way I could make forward progress. How, why or where this trail connected to the UK was still not evident. At that juncture I had to leave the leg work for that to my colleague Haydn. Reading through my notes again it was reasonable to assume that a portion of the stolen Semtex had actually, at some point, entered Gibraltar. I was however, still clutching at those same metaphorical straws.

I telephoned Charlie Mayhew, who sounded surprised to hear from me again.

'Charlie,' I began. 'I need to ask you for a bit more help on the Semtex matter if I can.'

He chuckled. ' Oh Lord, I'll be on the payroll next,' he said.

'If your information helps me I may be able to arrange some recompense,' I responded.

Briefly I told him about a possible tie up between the Semtex and a horse scam in Hong Kong. His previous information had been that Arabs were thought to have brought the explosives into Gib. I asked if there was any way he could find out who those people were.'Could they be involved with the Arab horse fraternity?'

'Phew, that's a tall order Mister N,' he replied. 'You'll owe me more than a couple of drinks if I can come up with anything on that.'

'I realise that Charlie,' I said. He agreed to try and help.

I gleaned from my laptop that it would take about five or six days for the Miranda to sail across the South China Sea to Hong Kong. Before they arrived I badly needed to get there and dig around a bit on the Meredith's activities in the area. Again I was fortunate in that we had a man on the island. I made contact and explained the background of my problems and the matters that needed investigating. While we were speaking he said that he understood Miss Lee was working on this case with me.

'She is indeed,' I replied. 'And very efficient too.'

'You are a lucky man,' he responded in a knowing voice.

The day was passing rapidly. There wasn't a lot of time left for me to get ahead of the Miranda, so I hurried along the passageway to Miss Lee's room. When she opened the door she was dressed in only a pale blue t-shirt and a skimpy pair of white shorts. Unfortunately I had enough problems to contend with, without thinking about all that. She seemed pleased with herself. During my absence she had been making progress on the matter of Grullo horses.

'I have talked to some of the breeders in the States on the phone,' she told me. Apparently telephone numbers were listed on their websites. 'They tell me there is a big shortage of that stock at the moment. They say it's mainly due to the buying activities of an Arab syndicate known as Jubilee Holdings. It's been going on for four or five years. They've created a cartel in other words and they ship the horses to Macau.'

It was a lead we needed to follow up quickly. I told her of my plan to go to Hong Kong and she began to make the necessary travel arrangements. Whilst she was doing that I got back onto my HQ in London. I wanted everything they had on Jubilee Holdings. Afterwards there wasn't much time left to pack and be on our way to the airport and out of Djibouti for the last time. I wasn't sorry. It's not a place that I look back on with any great fondness.

* * * * *

To get to Hong Kong we had to fly via Addis Ababa and Bangkok. In all, allowing for connecting flights, it was almost a twenty four hour journey. Soon after taking off from Ethiopia we encountered a violent thunderstorm. Being tossed about over the Indian Ocean was similar to an unpleasant, extended ride on a big dipper. The only good thing about it was that with each flash of lightning and boom of thunder Miss Lee's arm became a little more tightly entwined in mine. She snuggled closer by the minute, eventually nestling her head on my shoulder. As the aircraft continued to shake and judder I recalled the three Englishmen's descriptions of their time in the violent seas below us. For the first time I felt some sympathy for them.

By the time we reached Hong Kong at least the storm had passed and we were able to enjoy the spectacular panorama that greets you as you close in on the island. It was mid afternoon when Miss Lee and I checked into our hotel room. She had booked us a double and I wasn't about to argue. We were both feeling very tired and queasy and once we had unpacked we crashed out and slept until early next morning.

Overnight my e-mail inbox had become littered with information from HQ about Jubilee Holdings, Charles and Alicia Meredith, Arab horse people and masses of other associated details. There was no time to digest any of it properly as I had arranged an early appointment with our man there, Robert Wang, at his downtown office. Fortunately, on foot, it wasn't far from our hotel. After breakfasting Miss Lee and I braved the streets.

Hong Kong City is a virile, vibrant, exciting place. Being amongst its skyscrapers, humidity and exotic people, tingles your senses like an electric shock. The busy areas are not a place where you can stand still for long. A human tidal flow follows you everywhere. I was glad to have Miss Lee's local knowledge as we negotiated the crowded pavements.

Robert Wang had a small, one roomed office situated on a lower floor of a skyscraper office block, in one of the side streets. Palatial it certainly wasn't. Paper and files were scattered everywhere. Two telephones, a fax machine, photocopier/printer and a laptop were part of the clutter on his standard issue desk. He was a short stocky, eastern featured man, who at one time had worked for Jardine Matheson. In his early fifties, he bore a weathered face, thin dark hair, cut short, with a neat quiff at the front and was wearing a multicoloured, floral short sleeved shirt and grey slacks. He obviously knew Miss Lee. 'I apologise for the malfunctioning air conditioning,' he continued as we shook hands. 'I would offer you coffee, but the way I make it, it's pretty revolting,' he added and gestured towards two hard backed chairs. Miss Lee sniggered as though she had tasted his coffee before. Like me, Wang worked alone.

'I was sorry to hear that you have come to ground with your Semtex case,' he said to me first. 'It's an explosive that does come into the island quite often, but we never seem to get a fix on it, although I have a feeling that this place is one of the collection points for the terrorists who use it.'

Wang listened intently while I described the trail I had followed to Hong Kong. 'I'm almost certain those parcels were destined for here, although I'm also convinced that the original shipment was split up to enhance the chances of most of it getting through,' I said in conclusion. He nodded. 'We may however,' I continued, 'have fallen upon other crimes as well.'

I asked Miss Lee to open up my laptop. She angled the machine on Wang's desk so we could all see. Wang fiddled with a cable connection between his laptop and mine, to download the details. 'This is the couple Meredith,' I indicated when a picture of them both appeared on screen.' Wang set the download in motion. 'And their boat, Miranda, which should be docking here in a few days time,' I added when that image appeared.

'Very nice,' Wang exclaimed. 'That must have cost a penny or two.'

'Precisely,' I responded.

For the next quarter of an hour I went through more of the background details relating to the voyage of the Miranda and the Addela, plus the incidents with the Semtex at Heraklion and the Somalian pirates.

'Seems to me they're all rogues,' Wang responded. 'No wonder you've had difficulty pinning anything on any of them. Those types would sell their grandmother if it would get them off the hook,' he added jocularly. Miss Lee smiled at him. I was beginning to feel that perhaps their past relationship may have been a little more intimate than either of them had yet let on. That morning she was wearing a white blouse, with a grey figure hugging skirt, which was a little fuller in length than some of her more recent garments.

'I agree,' I replied. 'That's why I'm so determined not to let them get away with any of it. What have you been able to find out for me here?'

Wang turned his laptop to face us. 'Jubilee Holdings is registered as a company here in Hong Kong, although there have been no published accounts for the last two years. Mind you that's not unusual in this part of the world,' he began. I raised my eyebrows and looked at Miss Lee. 'They're described as a trading company, which can cover a multitude of sins. The Director's list is as long as your arm. Some of them are known here on the island. To be polite, let's say that they all border on aspects of criminality. You know the usual things, casinos, night clubs, strip joints, gambling, race horses.' He paused and fiddled with his laptop to bring up on screen another file. 'Now,' he continued. 'Regarding the Directors I don't know anything about, I've had to dig further.' He pointed to the picture on the screen. 'This is Sheik Shanin Rahman from Dubai. He is the fourth richest racehorse owner in the world,' Wang said and flipped to the next picture. 'This is Leone Ciaccio, Italian, who it is believed has connections with the Cosa Nostra.' He flipped the screen again. 'Lin Han, from Macau. Casinos and racehorses,' he added and continued to scroll through the images and details of another half a dozen or so men, some Arabs, some other nationalities, but all of them with what you might call contentious business backgrounds.

'But why would this lot want to involve themselves with Grullo horses?' I cut in.

'I don't know.' Wang replied. 'I asked myself the same question.' He changed the file on screen. 'This is where some of the Grullos are kept,' he said when details of a big riding stable complex came into view. 'It is owned jointly by Carlton Dewey, a British ex-pat who's been there for over twenty five years, and Shanin Rahman. Some of his top quality racers are also stabled there. The stable complex is on the outskirts of Macau. I will take you there and show you.'

'And what about the Merediths?' I asked. He again changed the screen.

'They have a house here on the island, in Discovery Bay,' Wang said as a picture of a newish colonial style residence came up. 'And I have been able to ascertain that the Merediths keep their horses at Dewey's stable, so there's a definite tie-up there,' he concluded.

We all sat back in our chairs and paused for thought. 'This investigation gets more twisted by the minute,' I said eventually. 'What I still can't fathom out is why a man like Meredith, who appears to have an unblemished record in Britain would want to spoil it all by getting involved in all this skulduggery. At home he appears to have made his money by legitimate means in telecoms. Why would he want to tarnish it all now?' Wang shrugged his shoulders in response.

He was to take us first to Discovery Bay in his car, a low slung Mercedes, which he kept in the basement car park of the office block. Down there, below street level was evidence of another side to the island. In the dark corners, amongst the litter bins and debris, kids and pushers obviously involved with the drug trade were gathered. 'Every so often we get the police to move them on, but they only come back a few days later,' Wang said with a sigh as we got into the Mercedes. He drove sedately across the island to what was a large, mainly modern suburban development of homes and associated shopping areas. The humidity in the air was intense. I was glad the car had air conditioning. Surrounded by a high wall Meredith's house was one of the older structures dating from the nineteen twenties. Not large in comparison with the newer properties nearby, it was fronted by an impressive pair of wrought iron gates, through which we could see about an acre of well cultivated garden. From what we could tell the house looked shut up. 'Shall we try the bell?' I said, 'See if there is anybody home?'

There was an intercom device set into the concrete gate post. Wang pressed on it firmly. For some moments there was no response. Just as we were about to walk back to the car a voice, with a heavy Chinese accent said, 'Hello, can I help please?'

'Is Mister Meredith in?' Wang responded.

'Not at the present time,' the voice said.

'Any idea when he may be?' Wang continued.

'We expect him in two or three days. Maybe more. He is coming by sea on his yacht.' We left it at that and drove away.

Wang then drove us to the heliport. By that means it is a half hour crossing over the South China Sea to Macau. The view from the 'copter was spectacular, if a little daunting for a vertigo sufferer like me. Miss Lee though seemed to take it all in her stride. Wearing enormous sunglasses she smiled happily most of the way, while chatting with Wang and the pilot in their native Chinese. Half an hour was about enough for me and I was glad to get my feet back on solid earth.

We were met at the Macau heliport by one of Wang's cousins, George, who drove us in another Mercedes to Dewey's stables, about ten miles from the city centre. George possessed a driving style that belonged on a racing circuit. Every car travelling in the same direction as us had to be overtaken, whether it was safe to do so or not. Wang and Miss Lee appeared completely unperturbed by it all, but I was tightly strap hanging long before we reached our destination. Fortunately at that speed it didn't take long.

The impressive equestrian complex was massive, with extensive facilities, where one could hire horses to ride and obtain riding lessons. Show jumping, dressage, stud farms and expensive facilities for racehorses were also featured. George drove us through to a large, modern reception centre, where models and maps of the complex detailed the entire layout. 'Some big money tied up in all this,' I said to Miss Lee.

'Can I help you?' an attractive young Chinese woman in a tailored, dark jacket and skirt asked.

'We are interested in looking at Grullo horses,' I said. For a moment she looked taken aback.

'Are you interested in buying?' she queried.

'Maybe,' I replied.

'I will enquire,' she said and moved quickly away to a room behind the reception area. Through a window covered with a half drawn Venetian blind I could see her talking to a Chinese man, who looked in our direction. They talked some more before he came out into the public area to greet us.

'May I be of assistance,' he said when he got near.

'We are interested in looking at the Grullo horses,' I repeated.

'Do you have a specific horse in mind sir,' he said. 'We have many stallions and mares here. If you were to perhaps let us know a name, colour, age or pedigree we could arrange for a viewing.' He paused for breath. 'The Grullo horses we have for sale are listed on our web site,' he continued. 'Usually prospective buyers choose a horse or horses they want to view and then make an appointment, which enables us to prepare them for inspection. With so many horses I am afraid it would be too time consuming for us to allow random viewing.'

I looked at my two companions. 'Could we just wander around the stables? 'I said, 'I promise we wouldn't get in the way.'

'I am sorry sir,' the man said, shaking his head. 'There are expensive animals here. The security risk is too great to allow the public to just wander around.' His head hung to one side as he spoke.

'Well could we see those who are out in a paddock or a field?' Wang cut in. 'It's a breed we are still learning about,' he added.

The Chinese man looked at us and then said something to the young woman in Chinese, before looking back as us again. 'Hailie, here, will take you to the paddock on a buggy, but I'm afraid that's all we can do at this juncture. If you have specific horses you want to view, as I said, we can arrange a viewing appointment and then we may be able to help you a bit more.'

And so the three of us were driven, on a golf type buggy, to the far edge of the complex, where about a dozen horses were wandering in a white rail fenced paddock. In amongst them were five that we recognised as Grullos. Hailie parked the buggy alongside the fence and we were allowed to stand and watch, while she remained with us.

Watching them move, grazing lazily around, took my mind back to Aunt Beth's horse Rock. To my uneducated eye none of those on view could compare with his majesty, colour, or grace. In front of us we could see two duns, two slates, and a silver Grullo, all of them low and stocky in build.

'Is this all you have here?' I asked Hailie.

'There are some more in the stables,' she replied. Throughout our conversations she maintained the same benign smile.

'How many altogether?' I queried further. She pondered for a few moments.

'Fifteen, maybe twenty,' she said politely.

'Is that all?'

'That is all that are here, yes,' she responded.

Before we could ask more she indicated it was time to go and drove us back to where George had parked his car. We exchanged pleasantries and said goodbye. A cloud of dark, smelly fumes emitted from the buggy's exhaust as she drove away.

'Well I don't know that we've achieved a lot here,' I said to the others as we motored out of the complex. 'According to the information we have, scores of these horses have been shipped out here over the past few years. If there are only twenty or so at this place, where have all the others gone?'

'China's a big place to lose scores of anything,' Miss Lee said.

'But why are they importing this breed in such quantity?'

None of the others responded so I was left alone with my thoughts. As we journeyed back to the heliport Wang began to speak to his cousin George in their native Chinese. Their conversation continued for some minutes before Wang reverted in English to me. 'George has many friends over here in low places,' he said with a chuckle. 'I have asked him to see what he can come up with regarding these horses,' Wang added.

'I am grateful,' I replied. 'At the moment we seem to have reached a full stop on all fronts.'

George smiled and to my horror pressed his foot down even further on the accelerator. We were soon at the heliport and winging our way, like a buzzing bee, back to Hong Kong.

* * * * *

There were numerous messages waiting for me on the laptop when Miss Lee and I arrived back in our hotel room. While I set about reading them, she used her machine to research more on Grullo horses. My first message was from Hadyn, my colleague in the UK. His e-mail stated that he had discovered connections between the Merediths and the Hong Kong based company known as Jubilee Holdings. It seems that some years ago they had been a major backer in the Meredith's telecom business. Hadyn found that for a period of time Shanin Rahman had also served as a Director on the board of Charles Meredith's company. He'd also found out that Billy and Justin's porno-video operation was set up as a legitimate business and registered for tax purposes. The last audited accounts showed it to be in profit. Billy and Justin were the only Directors. The registered office was Billy's business premises in Milton Keynes. Hadyn said he would pursue more inquiries in that respect and get back to me.

According to him the three Englishmen from the Addela had more or less gone to ground when they arrived back in the UK. His information was that they were being besieged by newspapers wanting the exclusive story of their experiences with the Somali pirates. The FO were liaising with the police and customs about the Semtex. However, little progress was being made on that. Haydn's feelings were the same as mine in that any attempt at prosecutions would simply fade into the background.

During the early part of the evening before Miss Lee and I went out for dinner I also received a telephone call from Charlie Mayhew. 'I've dug around a bit on the matter we discussed,' he said to me when I answered his call.

'What's the word Charlie,' I replied.

'It appears that it was a group of Arabs who were responsible for bringing the stuff into Gib. From what my mates say it came down by road, overland through France and Spain. The reckoning is that a Hong Kong company called Jubilee Holdings are at the back of it. Seems they are involved in a lot of shipments of one sort or another through Gib. That's what my mates say anyway. I should sniff around that Jubilee outfit if I were you.'

'I am grateful Charlie. Give me your address.' He responded with the details. 'Keep an eye on the post for the next few days.' I continued. 'You may find some cash in a plain envelope.'

'Thanks Mister N. Will I qualify for a pension as well?'

'Fraid not Charlie. Don't know nowadays if even I'll get that. Not all I'm entitled to anyway.' He laughed and we made our farewells.

On our way to dinner I brought Miss Lee up to date on what I'd learnt. She was taking me to a restaurant near Victoria Harbour. When we'd been shown to our table, through the adjacent window, she was able to point out where the Miranda would probably dock. 'We must check with the harbourmaster in the morning about their docking date,' I said to her.

With the assistance of an amiable waiter Miss Lee was able to introduce me to more eastern culinary delights, including steamed bream with fresh ginger and spring onions and szichuan style beef with vermicelli. Once our first courses had been served, she updated me on her further findings regarding Grullo horses. 'There are records in 1906, indicating that Shetland mares, Welsh mountain ponies and Grullos were crossed to produce a tougher, stronger version of the breed,' she said. 'Those horses were originally used extensively in the USA for ranching that involved reining and rope work. In more recent years,' she continued, 'their strength and resilience has given rise to a new career for the breed in show jumping, dressage and three day eventing. In the States they've become quite successful on that circuit and now command a high price.'

'Where does all that fit in with what we've seen today?' I said. She replied with a shrug of her pretty shoulders.

By the time we got back to our hotel room we were both very tired. It had been a long day. However, it did not stop us from indulging ourselves again on the king size bed.

* * * * *

The harbourmaster confirmed that the Miranda had booked a berth and was about two days off when I introduced myself next morning. I gave him some of the background details of the case and my likely intentions regarding the Merediths. He assured me he would do what he could to assist. I also went up to town and made myself known to the Chief of Police. A thickset, dark haired man, of Eastern origin, wearing a white short sleeved shirt, blue tie and dark trousers, he told me that despite their best efforts, smuggling of every description was rife on the island. 'Unfortunately a lot of it is organised by the wealthy business people. It's always gone on here of course,' he said, 'but now we are back under Chinese rule it's almost considered part of the accepted way of normal business life, which makes getting prosecutions to stick almost impossible.'

I asked him what he knew about Jubilee Holdings.

'They're a good example of what I'm saying,' he responded. 'On the face of it those involved are all prominent respectable business men. But I would guess that they have connections with most of the crime syndicates in the area. The trouble is they also have connections in very high places. When we get close to proving something illegal we are forced to back off. If you work in law enforcement here, those are the facts of life these days I'm afraid,' he said with a sigh. He did however promise to help in any way he could, but only if the evidence was completely concrete. 'I have lost too many battles to take anything on with the bigwigs if that's not the case,' he concluded.

Later Miss Lee and I met up again with Wang. Once again I noticed the close affinity between them. In his stuffy office he related what his cousin George had found out for us in Macau.

'The Chinese,' Wang began, 'have never had a successful equestrian three day event team. Now they are coming out into the world, so to speak, and particularly since they were nominated to host the Olympics, they have ambitions in that respect. To be successful at three day eventing you have to have the right quality horses. That's the difference between just competing and winning,' he paused for breath. 'Now, the West has the right quality horses, so they usually win at three day eventing. And of course they won't sell their best horses to the Chinese. The Chinese though are nothing, if not ingenious. Grullo horses have been used as working horses in China for many years, so they are familiar with the breed. Then, a few years ago they began to notice Grullos winning three day event type competitions in the States. So, surreptitiously at first, and through intermediaries, the Chinese started to acquire pedigree animals of that nature, from the American breeders. At the time Grullos were not expensive in comparison with the other quality event horses. Now as you have found,' Wang said looking at Miss Lee, 'they control the top end of the market for the breed.' Miss Lee and I looked at each other. Wang continued. 'George has also found out that there is a huge equestrian set up for breeding and training Grullos on the Chinese mainland, not far from Macau. The horses are flown from the States to Hong Kong, put on the ferry to Macau and then taken to the mainland. According to George the major intermediary involved in that venture is Jubilee Holdings.'

'Could we go to the stables?' I asked.

'We would need a permit to go onto the mainland,' Wang replied. 'Because of our work they would probably not grant us one. But Ali is a Chinese National she may be able to get one.'

I looked at her. She was smiling at us.

'What about Jubilee Holdings. Is it possible for me to have a look at their set up?' I said.

'They have a fancy office complex in one of the big skyscraper buildings here in town,' Wang replied and agreed to take me there. First though he phoned his cousin George to see if he would pick up Miss Lee at the heliport in Macau and arrange for her to cross the border to view the stable complex, which he agreed to. So while Wang and I headed for the headquarters of Jubilee Holdings, Miss Lee made for the Chinese government offices to try and obtain a permit.

The humidity outside on the street was oppressive. 'The quickest way is to walk,' Wang said, then led me along the pavement through a maze of spiky skyscraper towers.

By the time we reached the relevant building my shirt was sticking to my back. The ground floor reception area was spacious and marble tiled, with a half circular counter and numerous lift doorways. Jubilee Holdings had a suite on the tenth floor. A high powered lift which made a sweet hissing noise took us up in almost as many seconds. Double, glass automatic sliding doors led us into another reception precinct. At a highly polished mahogany table sat yet another small attractive looking oriental female, wearing the obligatory smart dark suit and perfect smile. On the wall behind her, in gold letters over the company's logo, a blown up world globe, the words 'Jubilee Holdings plc' were encrusted.

'We are enquiring about Grullo horses,' I said defiantly as an opener to the young woman. 'We understand that your company may have a stock available.' At first she looked at me with surprise and remained speechless. The willing smile instantly disappeared.

When she recovered her composure she said hesitatingly 'I don't think that's a commodity we trade in, but I will ask one of the managers.' Wang and I watched the elegant sway of her tight rear as she walked down a long passageway, to a door half way along on the right hand side. She was gone some minutes before returning with a tall, thin Chinese man wearing silver spectacles, a dark suit and a frown.

'I am afraid sir that we have no dealings with these Grullo horses you ask about,' he said dogmatically as he approached us. 'I think you must have the wrong company,' he continued then stared at me impassively. The young woman remained at his side with the enchanting smile back on her face.

'Oh,' I responded. 'But my information is that you are involved in shipping the breed in here from the United States?'

'To whom do I have the pleasure of speaking?' he retorted instantly.

'I represent a consortium of American horse breeders,' I lied.

'Well I am sorry sir, but I'm afraid your information is incorrect. However, we are a worldwide company and we have many contacts and connections in all continents. Somewhere along the line, in some parts of the world, we may have acted as agents for somebody else in a specific transaction, as a service to that client, but as far as dealing with horses is concerned, I assure you that is something we are not involved in.'

'Is there anybody else here who could help me further on this?' I pursued.

The frown on his forehead deepened. 'Sir, I am the only one who could possibly help you, that is my job and I assure you that what I have said is correct.' He stood firm, glowering down on me. The young lady was still smiling though, while nodding her head in agreement.

'Well then would you know any thing about the Grullo horses that are kept on the Chinese mainland near Macau,' I responded.

The man shook his head. 'Unfortunately sir I know nothing whatever about any horses. It is something I have very little knowledge of, except of course that they race them here at two tracks in town.'

Wang and I were left with little alternative but to turn around and leave. On our way out I picked up a copy of the company's brochure which was available on a small side table.

Back in Wang's office, to kill time, while waiting for Miss Lee to return, we both read through the brochure. The man at their office had been correct. Jubilee Holdings did indeed operate in all the continents. In Africa they had holdings in diamond mines and oil. Casinos in Mexico and Las Vegas. Steel in Germany. Movies in California. Minerals in Australia. Gas in Russia. Property in Dubai, to name but a few, but there was no mention of horses, Grullos or otherwise.

It was not long before Miss Lee returned bearing an excitable look on her face. She waved a piece of paper at us. 'I have a permit,' she hollered, and held it out towards me. We made a booking for her again on the helicopter, then organised arrangements with George. I treated her to an expensive meal, and afterwards we continued our intercourse in bed at the hotel.

* * * * *

Next morning we were up early. Wang drove us to the heliport. It wasn't long before he and I were both standing at the viewpoint watching the chopper take off with Miss Lee on board. For the first time since I had known her there was a yearning in my heart as the whirling, noisy little craft gradually became a dot on the horizon.

We were both pretty much silent as we drove back to Wang's office. There had been overnight messages on both our laptops which needed reading. Amongst mine was one from Haydn. He had managed to run Damien Smith to ground. It seems he was still intent on revenge over Billy's conduct with his wife Angelina and thereby had agreed to an interview with the local police in his home area about the Semtex. When Haydn had contacted them, and because of the ongoing inquiry, they allowed him to sit in the next room watching and listening to the CCTV footage as it was recording. Beforehand, Haydn had also been able to update the police on the business of the porno movies. In the interview Damien revealed that he was originally supposed to have been a partner in that venture. Then, to his annoyance, once the project was underway, he found out that Billy and Justin had carved up the whole enterprise between themselves. Hadyn noted an edge of grudge clearly apparent in Damien's voice as he talked about it. With regard to the Semtex however, he remained adamant that the three of them had played no part in taking the stuff aboard the Miranda. It had to be Charles, Robert or Lawrence, he'd said. His bet was on Charles, he told the police. He did admit to knowing about the porno material and assisting Billy and Justin in taking it on board in parcels at Gibraltar, even though there was going to be no financial benefit for him. The DVDs never materialised again afterwards though, he said. One of either Charles, Lawrence or Robert must have switched them for the Semtex and dumped the DVDs somewhere else. Why they would do that he didn't know. Maybe they just wanted to be rid of the Semtex, for one reason or another, and put the responsibility for it onto them, he surmised to the police.

'If it was nothing to do with you three, why didn't you just turn the Semtex in at Gibraltar?' Haydn heard the policeman ask.

'That was Billy's idea,' Damien replied. 'He's full of big ideas,' he added sarcastically. 'Knowing there would be a huge loss on the DVD project, he was prepared to take a chance to see if we could sell the Semtex somewhere along the way to recoup some of their money. At the time he and I weren't speaking due to a fight we'd had over my wife, so I had little influence on the matter. Justin was also caught up in the loss so he went along with Billy's suggestion. And at that time we didn't know we were going to get away so quickly from Heraklion with the Greeks. Billy is a chancer,' Damien said. 'It's the sort of risk he would take.'

'Ok, so you admit that the three of you took the Semtex on board the Addela?' the policeman asked Damien.

'Yes, although I stress it was nothing to do with me. At that stage I wasn't going to benefit, even if they did manage to sell it on.'

'So what happened to the Semtex?' the policeman asked.

'Billy's egotistical imagination and bragging bravado to the press back in Djibouti,' Damien began, 'was all designed to make him look like the hero in our escapade with the pirates and to take the heat off us regarding the Semtex. On the Addela, once we'd received the fuel and our passports from the Somalians, it transpired that there was no way they were going to let us escape from there without some form of payment. For a long time we argued with them. In the end we were forced to hand over the Semtex as payment for our ransom. It was put on the dinghy with the three members of their crew. We kept the dinghy covered with the automatic rifles until we were out of Somali waters. By then the RAF plane and the Navy cruiser were hovering around and we managed to get away,' Damien said. His account of the events bore out what the Greeks had said to me back in Djibouti.

Wang and I both read through Haydn's report two or three times. The revelations therein, again altered the direction of my inquiry.

Later on we received a worried telephone call from George. He told us he had taken Miss Lee to the checkpoint on the Chinese mainland. His plan had been to cross over with her, but the border officials wouldn't allow him to accompany her. A taxi was therefore required to take her to the riding stables, something George wasn't happy about. 'I argued with her, but she's a strong willed young woman,' he said. 'I'll wait here, near the border, until she returns.' Wang and I both wore worried frowns as we digested the news.

My other e-mails also contained further details of Charles Meredith and his dealings with Shanin Rahman. They revealed that during the time Rahman had been a director of Charles' company, he and Meredith had jointly owned a number of thoroughbred race horses. Many of them had winning form and they all cost a significant amount of money to buy. From what could be ascertained Meredith only had a minority shareholding in each one, the horses were always purchased by Rahman and were eventually stabled at Dewey's riding centre in Macau. Wang and I swapped and dissected the differing nuggets of information which that mornings e-mails had produced. In his inbox there were a welter of revelations regarding Jubilee Holdings. We spent some considerable time together going over the various details, attempting to connect any tie-ups with our main suspects in the matter of the Semtex. I was still keeping an open mind on all the possibilities though. I still wasn't completely convinced that Damien, Justin and Billy were not in some way involved in transporting the explosive from Gibraltar. Their story about Charles, or whoever, dumping the stuff on them at Heraklion still didn't totally hold water with me.

As a result of our lengthy deliberations Wang and I had to take a late lunch. He took me to a fish diner near the harbour. Looking down on old Hong Kong, we ordered fried lobster, sea snails, braised shark's fin, steamed brown marbled grouper and then attempted to relate the patchwork quilt of details we'd discovered, to the solid bits of information we already knew as facts. Unfortunately despite our best attempts, we still found many loose threads dangling free. One major revelation however, came to light during our discourse. When we both expressed our worry about Miss Lee going off onto the mainland by herself Wang said to me. 'I have a confession to make there.' I looked into his face and worried some more when I saw his contrite expression. 'She is my daughter,' he added and averted his eyes away from me. 'Not by marriage, but with one of the ladies I used to have a relationship with many years ago.'

Stunned, I sat back in my chair and in doing so nearly knocked over my wine glass.

'When I used to work for Jardine Matheson,' Wang continued, 'I had many contacts with the British Government and after Ali finished University I was able to get her a job with them here in Hong Kong, when it was still a colony. I am happy to say though that the rest of her career to date has been down to her own hard work.' I was gob-smacked. To relieve my obvious embarrassment he continued. 'It makes me very happy to see that she is now working with an intelligent and thoughtful man like you.'

Having gulped at a mouthful of wine I almost spluttered it back out over the table. 'I feel bad about her going off like that on her own,' I managed to stutter out eventually. 'That sort of task is our responsibility not hers.'

'I agree,' Wang replied. 'Unfortunately she has always been headstrong. I blame myself for that, not being on hand as a proper father. But I am so proud of her none the less.'

'I can understand that.'

We talked some more around the subject, as best we could, without it becoming totally embarrassing and then made our way back to Wang's office. By then we were hoping to have received a message from George, but nothing of that nature had materialised. Wang ran out of patience and phoned George on his mobile.

'I am very concerned,' I heard George respond. 'She should have been back by now. I have phoned her many times on her mobile but there is no response. I asked at the border checkpoint but they say they know nothing. And they say they don't know the telephone number of the horse complex. In desperation I have phoned some of my friends who live around here to see if they have the number. So far they have not been able to find one. I will continue to wait here though until I have some news.'

When the call was over I looked across at Wang. His eyes were filled with stress. I was to spend another couple of hours at his office, really just waiting and hoping for a call to tell us Miss Lee had returned safely. Despite numerous conversations back and fore between Wang and George there was still no word of her. I also tried her number on my mobile but the response was the same; the line just rang out, unanswered. By then evening had come, dark had descended. Reluctantly I returned to my hotel. George and Wang had both promised to phone me as soon as there was any news.

Walking into our hotel room was a desolate experience. Without her bright, smiling face the place looked like an empty shell. I kicked the waste paper bin across the room and slammed my fist down on the dressing table. For a long time I seemed to do nothing but pace up and down, blaming myself totally for what had happened. I should have known better. Having worked half my life in this trade I was completely aware of what the Chinese did to people who crossed them. I had acted like a complete amateur. The first thing they teach you in my work is that you trust nobody but yourself and I had broken the primary rule. I should not have let her go to Macau without me. She was not trained or prepared in any way for that sort of work. That was my job.

My mobile remained switched on and positioned alongside my head throughout a very long night. I got very little sleep. Sometime, around about midnight I got a call from Wang. There was still no news, he said. He'd only called to commiserate and like me blamed himself for everything. George was going to remain at the border checkpoint. He'd told Wang that he intended to stay all night and was phoning his friends in the area to try to help him get across the border.

* * * * *

Very early next morning I received another call from Charlie Mayhew. 'There you are Mister N,' he said when I answered. 'I was hoping to catch you before you began your days work. Thanks for the envelope it arrived yesterday. Very generous. Is that your hourly rate?'

I chuckled for the first time in many hours. 'Not quite Charlie,' I said, 'more like the monthly one.' I heard him laugh.

'The real reason for the call is that there's a bit more crack on this Jubilee Holdings outfit I mentioned,' Charlie said.

'Yes Charlie, go on,' I said perking up a little.

'The word is that around about the time the yacht your suspects were on docked in Gib, two of the big wigs of Jubilee Holdings were staying in one of the posh hotels there. As far as I have been able to ascertain their names were Shanin Rahman, who is a big cheese in the horse racing world, and an Italian guy called Leone Ciaccio, who by all accounts dabbles in everything that's illegal.'

'Yes, I know of them Charlie, by name anyway.'

'Well Mister N, my pals tell me it's almost certain that they were involved with the Semtex you followed down there. They didn't actually transport it to Gib, but they were instrumental in the transfer of it to the people on the yacht. Some of my mates still do business with Ciaccio and by all accounts they were in touch with him while he was in Gib.' Charlie paused for breath. 'I hope that's been some help Mister N.'

'It's certainly been a big help Charlie. I'm in your debt again.'

'One good turn deserves another,' he said. We talked a bit more then ended the call.

His call temporarily lifted my gloom. At last I had a tie up between Jubilee Holdings, Meredith and the Semtex. I showered, breakfasted in my room, then joined up with Wang at his office.

The expression on his face when I arrived told me that there was no news of Miss Lee. Before I'd arrived he'd telephoned our boss to explain the situation with her. Needless to say our man was not best pleased with either Wang or me. The matter would now have to be raised through diplomatic channels, Wang was told. 'And you know how long that takes,' Wang said to me while sighing heavily. 'In the meantime we are both instructed to stay clear of the mainland and any horse stables that maybe there. The boss said things are difficult enough with the Chinese at the moment and he didn't want to upset them even more.' We both looked at each other sheepishly.

Wang did say however that George would stay in the area for a while. His friends were Chinese nationals who would be able to go onto the mainland. 'I told him to be very careful and not cause any trouble or things would only get worse for Ali.'

I updated him on what Charlie Mayhew told me about Rahman. Wang's information was that his main residence was a sumptuous palace in Dubai but he did also have a villa in Hong Kong.

'We can go and take a look if you like,' Wang said.

'Are there any events taking place on the island over the next few days which Rahman could possibly be attending?' I asked. 'I'd like to get a sighting of him, but I don't want to travel too far. I must be here when the Miranda docks,' I said, 'I owe that bloody man Meredith one for the way he's buggered me about.'

'Gently does it,' Wang responded and scrolled through his computer. 'Hey!!' he suddenly shouted . 'If Rahman's on the island he'll certainly be going to this!!' There was a race meeting that evening at the Happy Valley Racecourse. 'Let's see if he's got any horses running,' Wang said. Rahman did indeed have two of his prize thoroughbreds going in each of the big races. I decided to go alone. The locals may recognise Wang, which would only arouse their suspicions.

Miss Lee however remained our primary concern. No matter what other matters we were engaged upon, thoughts of her and the trouble she may be in remained in the forefront of both our minds. Later on I rang the harbourmaster and he confirmed that the Miranda would be docking next day.

Wang drove me across the island to the address where Rahman had his residence. A massive high wall and huge security gates surrounded the villa. What little we could see revealed a palatial home of royal proportions. Formal gardens running into several acres were spread out in all directions. We didn't want to push our luck and came away before we were noticed.

Our next call was to the Chief of Police. I asked him what he knew about Rahman and Ciaccio. 'Quite a lot,' he responded, while puffing on a cigarette. 'But nothing we could go to court on. Whenever we consider it, either a prime witness is frightened off, bought off, or sometimes killed off. I can only repeat to you what I said before. It's a frustrating life being a law enforcement officer in these parts, especially nowadays.'

Briefly I reminded him about my involvement in the missing Semtex and then the tie-up I had now discovered between Rahman, Ciaccio and the crew of the Miranda, which would be docking in Victoria Harbour next day. The Chief was an ex-colonial policeman and listened with interest as I went on to describe the scam involving Grullo horses and the Chinese.

'Do you have any sway on the mainland across from Macau?' I asked after I had mentioned the equestrian set up over there.

'Unfortunately no. If it's anything to do with or is sponsored by the Chinese government it almost becomes completely above or beyond the law or my jurisdiction in it anyway.'

I told him about Miss Lee and her disappearance over there.

'Dear, dear, that is most unfortunate,' he replied. 'Sometimes people don't understand that life here is so much different now. As I've tried to explain, the laws and customs we used to invoke no longer apply in the same manner. On the face of it everything more or less looks the same, but in reality it isn't.' He did, however, promise to see if he had any old pals in the Macau area who could help, but he doubted they would be able to achieve much. 'Your best bet is to proceed through the diplomatic channels. These days the Chinese do at least pay attention to that route.'

'If I am able to come up with anything concrete on Meredith and his crew would you be able to assist me? At least they're British nationals,' I said.

'Assuming they've broken the law and you can prove it, yes of course,' he replied. 'But from what you've told me it seems that they too have friends in high places, so it's not going to be easy.'

We continued to commiserate for a while about each other's problems, then we left and went back to Wang's office. He made calls to George but there was still no news of Miss Lee. Later I went back to my hotel and prepared myself as best I could for an evening at the races.

* * * * *

The Happy Valley Racecourse in Hong Kong is one of the most famous horseracing venues in the world. Surrounded by a banked wall of imperious skyscrapers, the floodlit stadium at night is a marvellous sight. When full, with forty thousand people inside, the roaring crowd produces an electrifying atmosphere similar to a big football match. The whole occasion is one giant social affair, with beer tents, hot dog stands and all the periphery of a good night out. Betting is the major activity of the attendees, with enormous sums of money changing hands constantly. Despite my depression regarding Miss Lee I couldn't help being aroused by the excitement of the place. The locals dressed in their glamorous finery and the Muslims in their Kanduras made it a colourful, spectacular event.

Once I'd purchased a race card I walked the ground to get my bearings. The surrounding noise, the constant calling of odds and horses names hit my ears like the rat-tat-tat of bullets from a machine gun. When the first race commenced a groundswell of human sound erupted instantly, reaching a deafening crescendo in unison at the finish. Rahman's first horse was not running until the third race so to begin with I stayed near the track. The environment became infectious and almost sub-consciously I found myself betting on the second race. When the nags set off I was as involved as everybody else around me. Needless to say my choice was not even placed, instantly reducing my dwindling kitty by twenty dollars.

Chastened, I made my way to the parade ring hoping to spot Rahman. The horses were already pounding their circular beat when I reached there. Some of the owners had yet to emerge. Rahman's horse, 'Fair Lady', a tall, chestnut mare, was easily identifiable with her sure-footed, expansive stride. She looked every inch the favourite they'd made her in the local racing newspaper. I made up my mind to risk another bet, even though the quoted odds weren't up to much.

Gradually the parade ring began to fill with trainers, jockeys and owners. It wasn't until the horses were about to leave for the start that I got my first sight of Rahman. 'Fair Lady' already had the jockey on board, decked out in a white top with embossed blue stars. I guessed the man standing alongside was Carlton Dewey, the trainer. He was a very short stocky man, no taller than the jockey. Then at the last minute from a side entrance, a small entourage of black suited men appeared. Rahman stood out as the tallest. Dark bearded, he possessed a dome shaped, shaven head, which glistened like a beacon in the floodlights. He strode with ground covering strides, almost in the manner of his horse. Clearly he was a man of notoriety. People nodded and paid attention as he went by. The two men alongside him, trying to keep up, were also shaven headed, but shorter and stockier. His bodyguards I guessed. Briefly he spoke to the trainer and jockey, who both nodded in acquiescence to his words without appearing to say much in reply. Then, almost as quickly as he'd appeared he turned and made his way out of the ring, with the two heavies in tow, without speaking to anybody else. I have to admit I was impressed and slightly intimidated. A man of purpose, who was used to getting his own way I concluded. Probably not a man to cross either I surmised. Instantly he disappeared into the stand.

On my way back to the track I struck a thirty dollar bet, at two to one on 'Fair Lady'. Hardly enough to make me rich, but enough to get my money back from the previous race. The roar of the crowd told me they were off and I hurried to a spot close to the fence, near the finish.

The race was once around the track. When the horses entered the home straight there was only ever going to be one winner. At that point 'Fair Lady' flew away from the rest of the pack as though they were all going backwards. Along with many others nearby I whooped and jumped into the air as she crossed the line five lengths ahead.

My purpose of being there however was work so after collecting my winnings I went to the unsaddling enclosure to see if Rahman was there to collect his prize. He didn't appear though. Dewey was presented with a small trophy and a cheque. Then I went back to where I had seen Rahman enter the stand. I guessed he had a private box in there somewhere. Unfortunately, a steward who wanted to know if I was a member, barred my entry.

'I have a friend in there who has a box,' I retorted.

'I am sorry sir, but I can't let you in unless you have a pass,' he said.

Rahman's second horse was not running until the last race. Resisting the temptation to have another bet I occupied myself by watching the other two races and the antics of the spectators. During that time Rahman didn't appear to venture out from the stand.

In plenty of time I made my way back to the parade ring for the last race. Again I spotted Rahman's colours on the jockey as he entered the ring. Dewey spoke to him straightaway. The horse, 'Bernardo', was a black stallion of large proportions that looked as though he would run away with the race at a canter. This time I had positioned myself at the entrance to the stand where I had seen Rahman last disappear. It was only when the other horses had started to leave the ring that he emerged, accompanied again by the two heavies. On this occasion however, I spotted trailing behind him, the slouching figure of Ciaccio. The picture Wang had shown me had flattered him. Close up he looked a mean, nasty guy, with sleeked black hair and a scar across his cheek. He didn't follow Rahman to the ring. Once he was out of the lea of the stand he veered in a stumbling walk towards the course. I was tempted to follow but the real purpose of the evening was to suss out Rahman.

Keeping close on his tail, I was near enough to touch him. Again I admired the style and purpose of his gait. The sartorial dark suit and white shirt were clearly expensive. People parted and nodded as he drew near the ring. There, a uniformed flunky saluted when he entered, then moved back across the entrance barring my way. As before, Rahman had a brief word with trainer and jockey, then went back to the stand with me following.

This time he spoke to the heavies. The language was Arabic. The same steward was on the door and looked at me threateningly as I approached. Not wanting to draw attention to myself I withdrew and made my way to the racetrack.

'Bernardo' was the last horse to arrive at the start. This race was twice round the track. After a short delay the crowd's roar announced they were off. 'Bernardo' positioned himself near the back during the first circuit and half way round the second. Then, just like a re-run of the other race, he powered ahead in the final straight and won easily by many lengths.

I ran to the winner's enclosure. This time Rahman was there, with a very attractive tall, blonde European woman, in a smart blue suit, pearls and an extravagant pink hat, nearly twice the size of her head. Rahman was all smiles and bonhomie. He spoke in cultured English. The heavies were there too, but well to one side, against the enclosure fence. When Rahman's name was announced as the winning owner, a big cheer and prolonged applause followed from the surrounding spectators. Flash bulbs lit up the night sky. The cup was enormous and looked solid silver. Rahman beamed on receiving it. The lady by his side, who wore a gold wedding ring, looked dazzling. Soon they made their way with Dewey into the owner's pavilion. That was the last I was to see of them that evening.

Despite my continual worries about Miss Lee, the time I spent at the races had relaxed me a little. I phoned Wang when I got back to my hotel but regrettably he had nothing positive to report on that matter. I updated him on events at Happy Valley and then tried to get some sleep. Meredith and the Miranda were supposed to be docking in the morning and I wanted to be up early for that.

### CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Wang and I had arranged to meet at the harbour entrance at eight next morning. At that juncture I still wanted to keep a low profile until I had some conclusive evidence of a tie-up between Meredith, or his crew, and the Semtex. All I wanted to do was observe their docking and try to check out who was on board. Wang was not known to Meredith or any of the others, so he would go down to the quay and hang around, while I stayed in the car, wearing a baseball cap pulled well down over my eyes and watched. Wang, through his connections locally, had also arranged for a Customs inspection of the boat as soon as she docked. I didn't want to give them the opportunity of smuggling something ashore right under my nose.

Wang parked the Mercedes at a vantage point where I could see all the comings and goings. It wasn't long before we spotted the Miranda entering the harbour. 'That is some boat,' he said as he trained his binoculars in on the stunning elegance of the yacht.

'She is indeed,' I mused.

Slowly the Miranda edged towards us. The cultured throb of her engines reverberated around the harbour. Her grand arrival concentrated the attention of those in the vicinity. I couldn't resist a smug smile to myself when I spotted a Customs vehicle drive up to her docking point. When she was near the quay Wang got out of the Mercedes and headed that way, leaving me with the binoculars. Robert, Lawrence and Alicia were attending to the fenders and ropes.

Their docking was immaculate. Wang approached the Customs vehicle and talked to the men inside. Robert Shore lowered a gangplank onto the quay. Then Meredith appeared on deck, looking ill at ease when he saw the Customs people. When one of their officers walked up the gangplank he began to wave his arms agitatedly and started shouting. Wang was nearby on the dock pretending to admire the boat. Meredith continued to argue with the customs man in an obstreperous manner. The other three crew members were gathered around him. Eventually he threw his arms in the air and turned for the cockpit. Three more Customs Officers with a sniffer dog then made their way up the gangplank. They all went below, except Alicia, who remained on deck. It wasn't many minutes before she slumped into one of the high-backed deckchairs. Focussing the bins on her weathered, attractive face I could see frown lines straining on her forehead. Next I saw Wang talking to her from the quayside.

Some fifteen minutes or more passed, then, suddenly, a silver grey Rolls Royce drove onto the quay and pulled up alongside the Customs vehicle. Re-focussing the glasses I watched as Rahman and the two heavies emerged from the car. Wang moved away while the three men from the Rolls went up the gangplank. On deck, Rahman spoke briefly to Alicia then carried on into the cabin. She got up out of the chair and slowly followed on behind.

I was fascinated. Could this be the real turning point I had been waiting for? At last I had seen Meredith and Rahman together, and on the Miranda as well. For the first time I was convinced that there had to be something in all my recent suppositions.

* * * * *

Some twenty minutes or so more passed, during which time nothing much stirred. Wang had remained on the quayside. Then the customs people, with the dog emerged, carrying plastic bags. They drove away in their van in what appeared to be a certain amount of haste. It was another five minutes or so before Rahman and the two heavies I'd seen at the racecourse appeared on deck, followed by the four members of the crew. Alicia and Charles were dressed to go ashore. The heavies appeared to be carrying their suitcases. The five of them clambered into Rahman's Rolls and drove off, also in some haste, leaving Robert and Lawrence on board.

In time Wang rejoined me in the Mercedes.

'What did Rahman say?' I asked.

'I couldn't hear much, but he looked in a foul mood,' Wang told me. 'From what little I could gather he may have been taking the Merediths to his villa. We could go that way if you wanted?'

We agreed to do that, but first Wang wanted to call in at the customs office. He'd got the impression that they had been summarily dismissed from the Miranda by Rahman. Inside their glass fronted office a hum of chatter reverberated like background music. A clutter of desks, with computers and constantly ringing telephones, made the humidity even more oppressive. At the far end was a glass-screened office, where I recognised two of the men who'd been on the Miranda that morning. They were talking to another man who I guessed was their boss. I followed Wang that way. When his presence was noted the boss man waved him into the room. They were obviously familiar and shook hands. Wang introduced me. We had interrupted a conversation about the events on board the yacht. It seems Rahman had indeed ordered them off the boat. When they'd objected, he'd pulled rank by telephoning the town's local Mayor. More importantly Wang and I discovered that the team had detected traces of Semtex around the lower deck of the boat. The dog had picked up on it, we were told. Due to their early dismissal, they hadn't been able to search further.

Wang and I explained about the Semtex that had been on board at some time during the early stages of the voyage. One of the officers present said that what they had discovered were recent traces of the explosive. 'The dog wouldn't have picked something up from weeks ago,' he told us. 'We've brought ashore a few items from the boat which contained elements of Semtex. They are being dispatched to the lab right now for analysis.'

'When will you have the results?' Wang asked.

'Maybe later today. At the latest by tomorrow morning,' the boss man responded.

Afterwards we drove across the island to Rahman's villa. The traffic around the town was congested. Not wishing to attract attention, we approached the villa a little more sedately. There were CCTV cameras at the gate, so we parked a short distance away. On this occasion I decided to do the leg work.

An imposing set of sculptured iron gates fronted the property. From there I could see the Rolls parked in the driveway. Even though the villa was some distance away I could also just about make out the figures of Rahman and his wife with Charles and Alicia Meredith sitting at a table on the front terrace.

At that stage we could do no more. There was still no concrete evidence to link Meredith or Rahman with the trafficking of Semtex. We drove back to Wang's office where he made telephone calls to George and his associates about Miss Lee. There was still no sighting of her, but one of George's pals knew somebody, who knew somebody else, whose brother worked at the stables. George was attempting to set up a meeting with the people involved. Wang also telephoned our boss to see how the diplomatic process on that was developing.

'I have raised the matter with the Chinese,' he was told curtly. 'The reply I received was that they would look into it,' the boss continued. 'Robert, you of all people should know what the Chinese are like. It will probably take weeks before we get any sort of real response and then they'll inevitably want something back from us in return. I blame you two,' he added acidly. We both looked at each other glumly when the call ended.

However, there were messages on my laptop that needed dealing with. My colleague Hadyn had come up with more information relating to the Semtex. HQ were getting word that another batch of the packages stolen in France had been taken via a different route through Europe to the Far East. Our operative on its tail reckoned it could have, at sometime, reached Singapore. Wang keyed into his computer and discovered that Jubilee Holdings had a large office there.

'I wonder if this other batch met up with the Miranda there,' he said while lighting up a cigarette. 'Otherwise how else would traces of it still be on board the yacht when she docked here? Maybe that's why Rahman was in such a panic to get the customs off the boat? And what did Rahman's bodyguards carry in those suitcases when the Meredith's came ashore?' Wang surmised and angrily thumped his fist on the desk in frustration.

I stared at him. His theory had relevance. The Far East had been his territory all his life. Immediately he was on the phone. He knew people, who knew people, in the business community in Singapore. I left him to it and went out for lunch.

I was gone over an hour. When I got back he was still on the phone. I sat for ten minutes listening to him talking in Chinese before he reset the receiver.

'We may be getting somewhere,' he said, while getting up out of his chair to switch on the kettle. 'Do you want one?' he asked referring to coffee. Remembering his previous description of his talents in that respect and Miss Lee's face at the time I declined. He lit up another cigarette as the kettle boiled. 'I have been able to ascertain that Rahman visited Jubilee Holdings office in Singapore while the Miranda was docked there. And while you were out the customs people phoned. The analysis is back from the lab.' He poured the boiled water into a mug and stirred in some coffee. 'There are definite traces of Semtex on some of the items they retrieved from the yacht, and the traces are recent. They intend to press the matter further.'

He drew hard on the cigarette and for the first time in days I saw the traces of a smile on his face.

* * * * *

Wang and I spent the next hour or so discussing the avenues that remained open to us. I was conscious of the time limit my boss had given me. MI6 agents like me were constantly required to travel instantly to report on developing situations in every corner of the world, as they happen. I've said before that seeking justice is not our purpose. That is left for others to deal with. We report or involve ourselves in Britain's interest and move on. In this case I had been allowed to do far more than that.

Miss Lee's safety remained our joint first priority. If we pushed too hard her life would be in danger. Wang and I knew that the Chinese don't usually take prisoners. We also both knew that Rahman, Meredith and their cohorts also had significant influence in the area and could at any time have our inquiry curtailed. So caution had to be our watchword. We decided to each write down on two separate sheets of paper exactly what we knew as the undisputed facts in this case. The consensus we reached from those two pieces of paper is as follows.

Six men sailed from Falmouth intent on reaching Hong Kong. At Gibraltar suspicions of malpractice were aroused amongst all of them about one another. Who, or which of them at that time was trading on the wrong side of the law still remained open to contention. Whatever, the outcome was the break up of the crew into two separate factions at Heraklion; an event which was precipitated by Billy's adultery with Damien's wife Angelina.

Damien later stated that he, Justin and Billy were responsible for bringing pornographic DVDs onto the Miranda, not Semtex, as Charles Meredith had claimed. No trace of the DVDs though had ever been discovered. To date, Billy or Justin had not substantiated Damien's remarks about the DVDs, although they have a properly constituted company for that purpose. Charles had produced a quantity of Semtex packets at the hotel in Heraklion, which at the time he claimed belonged to the younger three. Subsequently he made a signed statement to me, to that effect, which he later denied when the Miranda docked at Singapore. According to the three who hired the Addela, Semtex was definitely on board that vessel, which Damien and the Greek owners say was used to buy off the Somalian pirates.

Up until the time they docked at Hong Kong, the Miranda, and its crew of four, appeared to carry no trace of Semtex, having been given a customs clearance in Mirissa. Now at Hong Kong there was new evidence showing traces of Semtex.

When our lists were complete Wang and I attempted to formulate a plan. At that moment there were far too many loose ends to present any sort of case to the law with the intent of prosecutions. We needed Billy and Justin to corroborate Damien's version of the events. That wasn't going to be easy. No way, I guessed, would Billy want to talk to me on the matter, having already forcefully dismissed my intrusion into his affairs.

A chink of light had been presented to us however, with the recent development on the Miranda. Following that lead looked the shortest route to any likely success, as fortunately all the principals concerned, including us, were at that time staying on the island. Not knowing about Miss Lee's whereabouts, or fate still however clouded every issue we looked at.

* * * * *

Quickly I set about writing an e-mail to my colleague Hadyn in the UK. If possible I needed him to track down Billy or Justin and get their side of the events on the Miranda and the Addela. I told him it wouldn't be easy and outlined all the machinations of the convoluted background.

Later on Wang and I decided to revisit the customs offices. The boss man was studying the lab report about the Miranda when we were ushered into his room.

'Is there enough in there to think about prosecutions?' I asked pointing at the sheaf of papers he held in his hand.

He sat back in his chair, which squeaked with the movement. 'Semtex is an illegal cargo,' he began. 'You have to have a special licence to transport it anywhere. And we all know what purposes it can be used for. It has no place on a boat like the Miranda, as well as being an extremely dangerous cargo to ship. So in principle, the answer to your question is yes. If it's been on the yacht, anywhere, any time, they have been breaking the law and the report is conclusive that there is evidence of that.'

As briefly as we could Wang and I tried to give him some background about all the twists and turns in this case. He listened attentively, shaking his head regularly in response to our revelations.

'The point of contention is going to be for us to prove that Semtex has recently been on board the Miranda,' I said. 'As you have just heard they all admit that Semtex did become involved in their voyage when they reached Crete. None of them denies its presence. Unfortunately each one of them has a different version of the events. The nub of the issue is whether Semtex has been on board again recently.' I paused for breath and looked intently at the man behind the desk. 'What we really need to know is will the evidence you have in your hand stand up in court when a clever, expensive lawyer starts to tear its reliability to pieces?'

He pushed himself back again in his chair until it creaked. 'If they all admit that at one time or another Semtex was on the boat, why can't they all be prosecuted?' the chief retorted loudly. 'The law is the law!' Again, Wang and I had to spell out the practicalities of getting such a charge to stick.

We talked some more on the issue. The chief told us he would contact the lab again. He promised he would try to get one of the top people there, an expert in other words, who would be prepared to go to court and contend what we needed.

Later in the day, back in Wang's office we received a telephone call from George. I listened in intently as he and Wang talked. The friend of the friend, who worked at the stables, confirmed that there had been a sighting of Miss Lee. Her attractive manner and figure had resulted in her being noticed. It appears though that she'd not been seen around the stables since then. George's friend couldn't confirm where they might have taken her, although he promised to try to find out. Wang expressed concern about proceeding with caution. We didn't want anything to upset the apple cart further in that respect. Once a matter had been raised through diplomatic channels it usually did produce some sort of response, eventually. Wang and I looked at each other and sighed heavily. 'I don't think there is a lot more we can do on that for the moment,' I said. He just shook his head in disillusioned agreement.

Despite our problems I was conscious of the need for us to maintain the momentum. 'I think I am going to have to find a way of confronting Meredith,' I said to Wang. He looked at me stoically.

'If we jump in before we have enough evidence we could blow any chance there may be of prosecution,' he replied.

'I know that but time is our biggest enemy. You have to go on working in this community, I don't. Soon I will be moved on. Pretty soon I imagine, if our boss has his way. Then the whole affair will become just another lost cause. You know what our people are like. We are up against a whole culture here in the Far East, not just organised crime. I think I'm going to have to take one big chance and strike out by myself.'

Wang fiddled with the pen he was holding, before saying anything. 'You must do what you think best Patrick,' he said eventually. 'But remember, we have Ali's safety to consider. We can't do anything to jeopardise that.'

'I'm well aware of that Robert!' I responded.

We spent some more time talking over the options open to us, going over each one in detail. All the while Wang was at pains to stress his backing in what I planned to do. He wanted to be involved but in no way was I prepared to allow his situation locally to be compromised. This affair was my case. And in Hong Kong, only Meredith and the other three crew on the Miranda knew of me, which gave me the advantage of surprise.

Eventually I went back to my hotel room. My head was swimming with the possibilities we'd talked about. At that moment none of them really made a lot of practical sense, but somehow, overnight, I had to knock them into some plausible alternatives. Needless to say I again didn't get a lot of restful sleep.

* * * * *

Next morning I organised a hire car. When it arrived I drove to the Customs Office. I needed some copies of the lab report. The head man told me he was having difficulty in persuading anybody to take a stance on the matter in court. 'Unfortunately there are so many undesirables with unlimited influence in high places in this part of the world,' he said, while using the photocopier. 'We are obviously aware of the man who came to the harbour in the Rolls Royce,' he added. 'On this island, all the time, everybody has to watch their backs to see who is actually behind everything, just in case. I will keep trying for you though,' he said with a resigned smile. Then he handed me a collection of photocopies of the lab report and I left.

Afterwards, with the aid of an A-Z, I was somehow able to find my way to Meredith's villa. I parked a short distance away, out of sight, and walked to the front gate, dressed in a light anorak with the collar turned up. I was wearing the old baseball cap with the peak pulled well down. At that juncture I still didn't want to be recognised.

Peering through the gates I could see no evidence of the Merediths in the garden or around the outside of the house, so I pressed on the gate bell. The same oriental voice as before answered. 'I have a delivery for Mr. Meredith,' I responded into the intercom. 'It's only an envelope, can I put it in the letter box?' I continued. 'I don't need to come in,' There was a mail box set into the concrete pillars alongside the gates.

'OK,' the voice said and I pushed the envelope through the flap and hurried back to my car. The envelope contained a copy of the customs lab report. Nothing else, no message, no other writing. Then I drove back into town to see the Chief of Police.

'Would that be enough to start an investigation?' I asked and passed another copy of the report across his large desk. His office was old fashioned and cool. A high ceiling, tiled floor, no windows and a large rotating fan overhead kept it blessedly refreshing. He took some moments to read the report. While he did I tried to recover my composure from my mornings activities by inching my head towards the gentle breeze the fan was creating.

'Normally I would say yes,' he began, 'but in this case we already know who we are dealing with. I am aware of what happened at the harbour when your suspect's yacht docked. Here in headquarters we received a veiled threat of trouble if we pursued matters. I repeat what I said to you before, life here is different.' He rubbed his chin before continuing. 'However, the law is the law. That is my business. That's what I am supposed to do, uphold the law.' He paused for a moment, looked down at the report again then said, 'I will make some waves. Cause a few ripples if you like, just to let them know that we know that they have possibly transgressed. This on its own doesn't actually prove they smuggled Semtex into Hong Kong,' he added holding up the report. 'We would need a lot more to act upon.'

'OK,' I said. 'Thank you. Can I ask you a favour though?'

'What is that?' he replied.

'For the time being I would like to remain incognito. To date none of these people know I am here. I would like to keep it like that for as long as possible.'

'I will do my best,' the chief said.

He was a busy man. All the time we had been talking the phone on his desk buzzed repeatedly but he'd ignored it, so although I was enjoying luxuriating under the fan, I gave him my mobile number and e-mail address then left.

Next I drove to the harbour, still wearing the apparel of my attempted disguise. Fortunately the small Toyota had air-conditioning to keep me cool. I called in at the harbour office, took off the baseball cap and reintroduced myself to the harbourmaster.

'I hear the Miranda docked here the other day?' I said.

He clicked onto a screen on his computer. 'Yes,' he confirmed and said the number of the docking berth.

'Would you know if the owners are on board?' I asked. He flicked down the page on the screen.

'Probably not,' he replied. 'The information we have is that a security company has a detailed watch on the boat.'

'How long is she booked in for?' I said. Again he referred to the computer screen.

'We've got her down for a month.'

I thanked him then drove down to near where the Miranda was moored. So as not to be completely conspicuous I parked a reasonable distance away, reinstated the baseball cap, donned a pair of large sunglasses and walked to the quayside. A rope bearing a security company sign was strung across the gangplank.

I ventured forward and was about to put a foot on the plank when a voice called out. 'Can I help you?' I looked up to the deck. There, glaring down on me was the imposing figure of Lawrence Firmin, wearing a floral shirt and khaki shorts.

'I'm sorry,' I responded. 'I was just admiring the boat. Some vessel, eh. Is it yours?' All the while I was praying that my limited disguise would hold.

''Fraid not, a friends actually,' Firmin replied, maintaining a deadpan expression on his face.

'Well it's very grand anyway,' I said. Firmin made no reply. He just stood there watching me in silence until I moved away. My objective for going to the harbour had been achieved. I had discovered that the Merediths would not be sailing away for a month. It also appeared that Firmin and possibly Robert Shore were staying on the boat. I drove back to my hotel and switched on my laptop. There was a long e-mail from Haydn.

He had made contact with Billy Tennant at his office in Milton Keynes. Initially Tennant had refused to speak to him. Haydn however had managed to get a message through that new evidence had come to light which could exonerate him, Julian and Damien from involvement with the Semtex. When they eventually spoke on the phone Hadyn impressed on him the benefits of having a meeting with me on the matter, to which, surprisingly he eventually agreed. I was both amazed and delighted. It would mean a trip back to Britain, but I was conscious that I still hadn't got enough hard evidence to force the issue and my time limit was running out.

Immediately I phoned Wang and told him of the news. He was pleased and promised to keep the pot boiling in Hong Kong while I was away. There was also some news from George. His contacts on the mainland thought they might have a marker on Miss Lee. They couldn't be sure but they'd received word, through other people that she might be held at a complex where the Olympic horsemen stayed when they attended the riding stables. For security reasons it was a lock-up establishment. Not quite a prison, but entry and exit would be controlled and the whole place was surrounded by a security fence. I grimaced at the thought as Wang spoke. He went on to say that George's contacts were going to try and speak to some people who worked there. I told him that I didn't plan to be away more than a few days and asked that he keep me updated all the while.

Next I needed to book flights. Without Miss Lee's super-efficiency I found the process tiresome, but eventually booked in on an aircraft out of Hong Kong next day. While in England I had also arranged an appointment with my boss in London.

Next morning as the aircraft gathered speed down the runway I could feel my heart tugging desperately in the direction of the Chinese mainland. Every sinew, every nerve in my body, groaned at her absence. Unfortunately it was a pain that at that moment I could do nothing about.

### CHAPTER SIXTEEN

A thirteen hour flight against the time zone is not the best preparation for an early morning showdown with your boss. Sleep had been fitful for most of the way and my head was still muzzy when I was ushered into his palatial office at Albert Embankment. Most heads of departments in our organisation are usually long established career men or women who have never done any specific field work. I was conscious of that as we shook hands. I won't say he looked down on me, but the sartorial elegance of his pin-striped grey suit, white shirt and old school tie did give off that impression. After I had settled in a chair he inquired about my flight then immediately put the boot in.

'I gather we are still having difficulties finding our employee down there?' he said in a reprimanding tone.

'Unfortunately, yes,' I responded and gave him an update on that situation.

'H'm,' was his initial response. 'Something we could have done without at the moment. We'd been doing quite well with the Chinese recently. These days there's a new willingness on their part to enter into diplomatic co-operation, but they can still be very touchy about this sort of thing.' He left the sentence dangling in the air.

To placate him somewhat I agreed with his reaction, then went on to outline the position I was at on each aspect of the case, emphasising the importance of my forthcoming meeting with Billy Tennant. For the most part he listened carefully but appeared to run out of patience as my tale continued. 'Why I really wanted to see you,' I said, when I noticed his attention span wavering, 'was to ask for just a little more time. If I can pin all these matters together it could pave the way to open up a lot of unsolved crimes.'

He leaned back in his leather chair, picked up an ivory paper knife off the desk, looked up at the ceiling and then rather annoyingly tapped the blade repeatedly on the desk top, while he appeared to be thinking. 'And if you're not able to pin these matters together?' he question eventually.

'Then I will have failed,' I answered quickly in retort.

'You're not to try anything stupid with the girl,' he snapped back. I shook my head in response. 'How much longer do you want?' he said with a sigh.

The end of the month, my initial deadline, was coming up in two days time. 'If you can give me a fortnight from the time I get back to Hong Kong,' I said. 'If I haven't cracked it by then I would need to move on anyway, as my cover would have been exposed.'

From the side of his desk he picked up a large chart attached to a clipper board with a huge bulldog clip, sighed again and shook his head. 'You're lucky there's nothing dramatic on at the moment,' he said. 'I'll give you until the fifteenth of next month. But that is it, after that fineto,' he added while making a slicing motion with the paper knife.

We talked a while longer about a few administrative matters I needed sorting out, then I left feeling suitably chastened. Afterwards in a nearby café I downed a strong black coffee in an attempt to revive my tiring brain and sagging spirits. I had arranged to meet up with Haydn there. He'd suggested it would be more private than the 'firm's' canteen. We hadn't met before. The Welsh lilt to his voice enhanced the friendly, humorous character I discovered. He had a round, chubby face with a smile to match and was dressed in an anorak, green roll neck pullover and brown cords. In his mid forties I surmised. If I hadn't have known better I would have placed him as an academic. It took some time for me to bring him up to date on events in Hong Kong. He was disturbed to learn about Miss Lee.

'You must be careful there,' he said. 'I used to work in the Far East some years ago. I know the sort of things the Chinese are capable of.' I nodded knowingly.

'I blame myself totally,' I said. 'And the boss has just spelt out that I'm running out of time. To some extent it depends on what Tennant tells me this afternoon, but I do have a feeling I am getting close to the truth in this case, which makes it even more frustrating.' Haydn commiserated. I bought us two more coffees.

'I'm going to need your help some more I'm afraid,' I said to him while we both spooned sugar into the turgid looking liquid in front of us.

'Whatever, fire away,' he replied.

'I need anything and everything you can discover about the Merediths here in the UK. I'm convinced there's more to him than meets the eye.' Briefly I told him about the Grullo horses, Rahman and Ciaccio and the new evidence of Semtex on the Miranda. He agreed to help and we parted on good terms.

The boss had authorised for me to use one of the company's cars to get myself to Milton Keynes. During the journey I mulled over how I was going to approach the task. Billy and I had not parted on the best of terms at Djibouti, so I was uncertain what his reaction would be. Hadyn had given me directions to his office and I was able to park in a multi-storey nearby.

A lift took me up to the second floor. There, the expensive art deco style reception was gaudily impressive. A languid blonde wearing a tight fitting short red dress and cream shoes, with tall high heels greeted me. After I had given my name, she disappeared down a long passageway, swishing her shoulder length hair as she walked. A few minutes passed. 'Mister Tennant will see you now,' she eventually called back to me down the passageway. Her perfume and provocative body invigorated my senses as I passed close to her on my way into the room.

Inside another man was standing alongside Billy. He was tall, with wavy brown hair. Both he and Billy were jacketless. Each of them wore light blue office type shirts. Billy, who looked totally different in work attire, was in grey flannel trousers, the other man, who Billy introduced as Martin Roberts, his Solicitor, had on more formal dark trousers. The office was large and sumptuous with an enormous desk, leather settees and armchairs, plus a glass top meeting table, behind which the two men were standing. Roberts shook hands with me, Billy didn't and sat down as soon as he had made the introduction.

'I understand you wanted to see me about Semtex?' Billy began. Despite all the business trappings, his tanned face, sparkling eyes, curly hair and persuasive demeanour still bore the hallmarks of a swash buckling rogue. 'So I've asked my solicitor to be present,' he added. Roberts sat down at Billy's side and I settled on the other side of the table.

'New developments have come to light since we last met, which have changed the course of my inquiry,' I began. 'I'm aware that we fell out at Djibouti, in part, because I accused you of being involved with the smuggling of the Semtex I was trying to trace.'

'Too bloody right we fell out over it,' Billy interrupted.

After a deep breath I continued and briefly outlined for Roberts' benefit the details of the trail I had followed relating to the explosive from France to Gibraltar and eventually to the Miranda and afterwards Djibouti. 'From there on I expect you're familiar with the rest of events from Mr Tennant's point of view,' I said.

He nodded his head. 'Yes, we've had various meetings on the matter.'

'Well,' I continued, 'as far as my investigation is concerned I think we have established that Semtex was on board the Addela when the vessel was boarded by the pirates, although how it got there is still open to conjecture. Would I be right in saying that?' Billy looked at Roberts who replied for him.

'That's something at this juncture we are not prepared to agree or deny,' Roberts said. 'If challenged, we are prepared to go to a court of law and argue the matter there. The whole experience on the Addela was, for my client, the most traumatic incident of his life. All of them on board were operating under great strain and fearing for their lives. As a result, my client's recollections of the exact sequence of events remains hazy. He says his every action was an instant reaction to what occurred at the time.' A likely tale I thought and looked at Billy who made no response verbally or physically.

'Ok, be that as it may,' I responded, 'but, as I said earlier, since then new evidence has come to light which has somewhat changed things. Firstly, I would say to you both that my job is not the implementation of criminal law. That is for others to pursue. My job, as a government agent is to protect this country's interests and security, at home and abroad. Semtex has been used as a dangerous weapon by various terrorist organisations against this country and its citizens and therefore comes into that category,' Roberts looked across at Billy who again made no response.

'Does that mean then that we can have an off the record conversation on this matter,' Roberts replied.

'If that is your wish, certainly,' I said. 'My job is purely confined to tracking down the Semtex and hopefully prevent its future use against our country.'

Roberts then picked up a few sheets of foolscap paper from the table and looked again at Billy, who this time nodded his head. Roberts continued. 'Well, in anticipation of perhaps proceeding in that manner I have taken the liberty of preparing a document which denies the validity of anything we may say to you at this meeting,' he said then passed all the copies across the table to me. 'Like you, we both abhor the use of Semtex as a weapon of terrorism,' Roberts added.

There were four documents, all identical in format and content. At the bottom of each sheet was space for our three signatures and that day's date. The wording used was legalistic and included many disclaimers, but in essence it repeated what Roberts had just said and absolved them from any misrepresentation on the matters being discussed that day. I read everything twice. 'If that will make you happy, I'll sign it,' I responded. Roberts indicated where to sign my name at the bottom of each sheet and include my full job title and agents number, which he checked with my identity tag. They both signed, then Roberts added the date and gave me a copy.

'What is this new evidence then,' he said while shuffling the other three copies into line.

I began by relating some of the details that Damien had alluded to in his meeting with Miss Lee and his interview with the police. I was careful not to reveal how I had come about this information and stated that as far as I was concerned it was only hearsay, which had come to me on the grapevine, during my enquiries. I didn't dwell on any aspects of the porno DVDs and kept essentially to the doubts surrounding the three of them being involved with bringing Semtex onto the Miranda. Billy intermittently nodded his approval to what I was saying.

'Now,' I continued, 'information has recently reached me about traces of the explosive being found on the Miranda when she docked at Hong Kong.' I went on to explain that the boat had been given a clean bill of health in that respect in Mirissa. 'So, I'm bound to ask myself if more Semtex was taken onboard somewhere along the way, during the latter part of their voyage.' I looked at them both questioningly. Billy pursed his lips. Roberts looked down at the papers in front of him on the table. 'If that is the case,' I continued, 'and as we've all agreed it's a despicable trade, I want to eradicate its possible use at the earliest opportunity.'

'I'm with you there,' Billy said looking directly at me.

'So are you able to tell me in your own words exactly what happened on board the Miranda to cause the bust up at Crete?' I said. Billy eased back in his chair.

'The trip was beset with problems from the outset,' he began. 'Before we sailed Damien had fallen out with Justin and me over a business we'd set up for DVD films. First he wanted to be in on the venture, then just when we were about to get going on it he decided it was all too messy for him to become involved in. So, Justin and I carried on by ourselves. Knowing this voyage was coming up we decided some time before to take the DVDs with us to Hong Kong. We believed there would be a more profitable market for the product there. Some of the final location shots were taking place in Spain, as well as the last pieces of editing and so we'd arranged to pick up the completed tapes at Gibraltar. There was nothing illegal with any of that. Naturally we didn't want Charles and his pals to know anything about it, hence our attempts to try to conceal the goods when we took them on board. We'd already told Damien that we'd be doing that. Unfortunately, after we'd set sail from Falmouth, he expressed an interest again in being part of the venture. We weren't happy about that as Justin and I had taken all the risks, plus the costs of production, but we said if he helped us get the films on board the Miranda, we'd consider some sort of cut for him, if the films were sold at a reasonable profit in Hong Kong. And that's how it was left.'

Billy poured himself a glass of water from a ewer on the table and then reached over to an adjacent cigar box, extracted a panatella and lit it up without offering one to either Roberts or me.

'OK,' I said. 'When you reached Heraklion what happened there?' Billy took a few draws on the cigar, gulped down some water, mopped his brow with the back of his hand and said. 'That's when all hell broke loose.'

'I understand there was an altercation between you and Damien over his wife Angelina?' I said.

'Well that didn't actually help matters,' he replied, guffawing as he sucked again on the cigar. 'But I'd noticed Charles become more edgy every day after we'd left Gibraltar. Up until that time he'd been fine. We'd all been enjoying the voyage, then suddenly something was obviously troubling him. He'd tried to blame it on the parcels we'd brought on board, but somehow I thought it was more than that. Then of course the fight Damien and I had ignited the whole powder keg.'

'When did you actually first see the Semtex?' I cut in. He hesitated before replying, drew again on the panatella, looked at Roberts, who shrugged his shoulders and nodded his head.

'At the Megaron Hotel, when I eventually joined up again with Damien and Justin. The day after Meredith had tipped the stuff out onto the floor in the bedroom there. I wasn't present when that happened. The two of them say that at the time they were just too dumbstruck to say anything to Meredith. They had expected to see our DVDs come tumbling out of the plastic bags, not Semtex. And of course at that moment everything was up in the air. As I've said Damien and I had just had this big fight. We weren't speaking. I was staying in another hotel and we'd been evicted from the ship. In the hotel room the two of them just didn't know what to do. They weren't even sure that somehow I may have managed to get hold of the films and taken them to the other hotel. That's why they didn't respond more positively to Charles's allegations. But by then the DVDs had completely disappeared. When the girls went back to the Miranda, to collect our clothes, they'd gone from where they'd hidden them in our cabins. We never saw them again. Then the yacht sailed without us.'

'And you three were left with the Semtex?'

Billy shrugged his shoulders.

'You could have handed it over to the police or the customs?'

'It would have taken days, weeks, to sort something out and by then the Miranda was already somewhere out at sea.'

'So you three took the Semtex on board the Addela?' I said.

'No comment,' Billy replied. I smiled.

'OK, but it was used to buy off the Somalian pirates?'

'Your words not mine.' He smiled again and sucked more on the cigar.

'Could I have a glass of that water please,' I said. Roberts slid a glass and the ewer in my direction. I took a quaff of the water and then continued.

'All right, so what is your theory on the Semtex that was dumped on Damien and Justin in the room at the Megaron?'

'You're asking me to take a guess?'

'Your words not mine, but yes please, I'd be interested.'

Billy stubbed out the panatella, reached across for the ewer, topped up his glass and gulped down half of the contents. 'What I'm going to say could be all lies,' he said first.

'Try me,' I responded. 'I'm becoming used to those.' He sniggered. Roberts emptied the remaining water into another glass and drank from it. Billy eased back again slightly in his chair.

'The six of us all went to Uni together. So we do know some of each other's frailties. In the light of recent events you know what mine are. Since then, each of us has made our money via different routes. But Charles has always had this trait to sometimes cheat a little when he came near to achieving one of his goals. It's as though he couldn't bear to lose out on what he was striving for. The rest of us worked hard and many times gambled recklessly for what we hoped to attain. Sometimes what we were attempting came off, sometimes it didn't. So be it.' Billy stopped talking and looked directly at me.

'Go on,' I said.

'Since he's acquired real wealth Charles has tended to mix in rarefied circles. Before they married, Alicia was an international horsewoman. To impress her, when he began to accumulate real money he started to mingle in the higher echelons of that society. When we were at Uni Charles didn't know the back end of a horse from the front. He certainly couldn't ride. But then he began to mix with wealthy people who could.'

'Now I'm interested,' I said.

'Gradually I started to notice some of those types start to appear at our social gatherings. I am talking about real high rollers in the horse world. The most prominent was an Arab named Shanin Rahman. He's one of the wealthiest men in the world and a major player in horse racing.' I said nothing and tried to show no reaction to Billy's statement. He continued. 'Well, then it wasn't long before I found out that Rahman had become a director of Charles's telecom company. Pretty soon after that it became obvious that Charles was involved with serious money. You could tell by the items he bought, the places they went to, he was way out of our league. He acquired the house in Hong Kong. Then there were the horses over there and here in the UK. Next we found out that he had a share in some of Rahman's prize winning racehorses. To the rest of us it all seemed a little too surreal.' Billy paused, lit up another panatella, then puffed clouds of smoke upwards above his head.

'How does all that lead us to Semtex?' I cut in before he spoke again.

'I became interested,' Billy said next. 'Curious, perhaps. So to satisfy my curiosity I began to dig around a bit. Rahman and people like him don't do you favours, not big favours like giving you a share in a multi million pound racehorse, just because they like you. They always want a pay off, somehow, somewhere, sometime. I found out that Rahman had pumped sizeable sums of cash into Charles's business at a time when he was trying to expand the company quickly. The expansion meant that in the end the company was big enough to sell onto Telecom. Then there were the racehorses. I doubt if Charles put any cash up for his share in those. There was no need to. Rahman was wealthy enough to buy whatever horse he wanted. So I asked myself why?' He sucked again on the cigar, which resulted in more billows of smoke.

'Sometime later I found out,' Billy continued, 'that the labour intensive parts for Charles's products were made and assembled on the Chinese mainland at a factory somewhere near Macau.' I tried not to blink at that revelation. 'From what I could gather,' Billy continued, 'the basic elements were computer assembled in the UK, then shipped to Hong Kong for the labour intensive sections to be added, before being shipped back here again.' He paused for another suck on the cigar. 'I expect you already know,' he went on, 'that I too am involved in import, export?' I nodded my head. 'So I have my contacts,' he said. 'Well it seems at the time that there was a big hoo-ha with customs over manifest irregularities connected with the contents of those shipments. By all accounts the quantity of goods shown in the manifest in each container in no way matched up with the weight declared as being taken on board. There had to be a rat somewhere. Everybody could smell it. The word is that illicit articles were being smuggled in and out of Hong Kong amongst the telecom components.' Billy drew again on the cigar. 'But these people he's involved with have friends in high places over there, so no prosecutions were ever enacted. However, I am convinced that through his business Charles was a carrier of illicit cargo. Of course, as I said, later on he sold the business. But now he has the yacht. Once a carrier always a carrier, I say,' Billy said with a shrug of his shoulders, then stubbed out the panatella.

'Ok,' I responded, 'but how does that lead us to Semtex?'

He sloshed down some more water from the glass. 'Well, while I was digging around I found out that one of Rahman's big mates is Leone Ciacco. Now he has been known to smuggle Semtex, as well as many other awful things. In the past he had been caught, almost red handed, but he is part of the Mafioso, so he's never been prosecuted.'

'Go on,' I encouraged.

'When I heard that Charles had tipped packets of Semtex out onto the floor at the Megaron, my immediate thoughts were obviously, where did that lot come from? How did he get hold of that stuff.' I nodded at Billy encouragingly. 'It didn't take me long to work it out,' he added. 'My guess is that Charles had brought the Semtex on board himself at Gibraltar as a carry for his wealthy cronies. I guess it was the Semtex you were following. Then, I think he got word that you were on his tail, so he needed to offload it quickly without arousing suspicion. Somehow he found our packets of DVDs and simply switched them. That's my theory anyway, for what it's worth.' He sat back in his chair and wiped his brow again.

'Would you be prepared to stand up in court and say all that?' I said.

'No way,' Billy replied with a chuckle. 'I couldn't prove it anyway.'

'Why would a man with his money want to risk everything on a dodgy venture like this?' I asked.

'Ego,' Billy replied almost instantly. 'Once you're in with this sort of moneyed crowd it's very difficult to say no. And I guess by now he's tied up with them too tightly to opt out even if he wanted to. I repeat, once a carrier always a carrier. It's only another trip. You've got away with it before, what can go wrong this time. And if he gets caught, his friends are always there to get him off the hook, or so he thinks by now.'

'H'm,' I said with a sigh. 'Can you answer one other question for me?' I continued.

Billy shrugged his shoulders and said, 'I can try.'

'Why would he give me a statement implying that you brought the Semtex on board the Miranda, then later on categorically retract it?'

Billy shook his head. 'You'll have to ask him that,' he said. 'Goodness only knows. To me it smacks of a man just trying to save his own skin, but that would only be a bigger guess than I have already given you on the other matters.'

### CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

The long flight back to Hong Kong gave me plenty of time to think and construct a plan. Time remained my biggest enemy. A major incident in another part of the world would see me instantly removed from this case. Throughout the flight though Miss Lee's situation was also bang in the middle of my forehead. During my time in the UK I had kept in touch with Wang, but there was still no word about her. He told me that George was working hard to establish contact with the people who worked in the complex where it was thought she was being held, but he added that achieving anything was a slow, delicate process. However, my boss's words about concluding this investigation rumbled on constantly in my head. To enact my plan I realised I would have to take on most of the action myself.

My opinion of Billy Tennant had changed somewhat since our meeting. Although I still considered him to be a fast, loose living guy, who survived off his wits, I got the impression that there was a certain line below which he wouldn't descend. The background information we had on him pointed to a man who trod very carefully around the boundaries of legality. Nowhere though, was there any inference of violence or the type of crimes associated with Semtex, drugs or the nastier aspects of Leone Ciaccio's trading activities. So for the time being I was prepared to give him the benefit of the doubt and go along with what he'd said regarding matters on board the Miranda. I was pretty much jet lagged by the time I got into my hotel in Hong Kong. After checking again with Wang about Miss Lee and arranging to meet up with him next day, I crashed out on my bed for twelve hours.

* * * * *

The atmosphere in Wang's cramped office was rancid with cigarette fumes when I arrived there next day. Since my departure it looked as though he'd got about as little sleep as I had achieved over those days. By the number of stubbed out cigarette ends in the ashtray I guessed his nerve ends were also just as frayed. The blank expression on his face told me there was still no news of Miss Lee. He suggested coffee. That day I accepted.

During my absence he'd kept a watching brief on the Merediths and Rahman. The Merediths were staying in their villa, Wang said. There had been a trip to the Miranda and they had also visited Charles Dewey's stables. Lawrence, Robert and their wives seemed to have adopted the yacht as their hotel. Rahman was still on the island, staying at his villa, going about his business tasks as befitted a man of his standing in the community. I told Wang about my meeting with Tennant and the plan I had formulated during the flight. Regularly he shook his head and looked at me aghast. Several times he interrupted with the words, 'don't you think that's taking an awful risk!' Despite his obvious reticence he heard me out. I finished by saying, 'I just don't see any other way in the time I've got. I can't sit around and wait for things to happen. I have to make them happen.'

More words of caution followed after he lit up another cigarette. The fug in there was beginning to catch on my throat, but I was going to need his help on certain aspects, so I sat it out until I had his assurances.

Before leaving my hotel that morning I had ordered another hire car and it was waiting for me when I got back from Wang's office. Straightaway I drove to the harbour and checked with the harbourmaster. He confirmed that the Miranda was still booked in for a few more weeks, so I headed for her docking station, this time without the cover of any disguise. The security company's sign was still hanging from the gangplank rope, barring entry, when I pulled up alongside.

'I wouldn't do that if I were you,' a voice called down to me from the deck as I began to unhook the rope. I looked up and saw Lawrence Firmin glaring down on me again. 'I can set off an alarm up here, which will not only waken the dead, but also bring half the militia on the island in this direction,' he continued. For a moment I stood my ground.

'Do you remember me?' I called back up towards him. 'Patrick Naysmith. We met on board at Mirissa,' I added, pointing towards the yacht. He lent his head further over the rail to take a longer look.

'Yes I remember you,' he said eventually. 'You caused us a lot of trouble from what I recall.'

'Only doing my job for the British Government. Your Government,' I replied. 'Something new has come up that I need to see you on. Can I come up?'

Initially he made no reply then said, 'It's Charles you need to see, not me. It's his boat and he's not here at the moment. He's at his villa.'

'I know all that. But this time it's you and Mister Shore who I have to talk to. I promise you it is important. I could take steps to make you see me, but I'd rather not do that,' I said bluffing somewhat.

'Mister Shore is not here either. He's gone shopping with our wives.'

'Even better,' I called up. 'Means we can get it over quickly and without too much fuss. I promise you I'm on my own.'

He continued to glare down on me. 'Oh, Ok if you must,' he said eventually and waved his arm for me to go up the gangplank. At the top I showed him my identity card. 'Just in case there are any doubts,' I said when I was near him. He led the way into the saloon. I'd been lucky catching him unawares and on his own.

Again the painting of the Grullo horse caught my attention. 'Do you know anything about those animals?' I said to Firmin and pointed at the frame.

'No, that's Charles and Alicia's hobby,' he replied. 'I think she owns one or two of that breed, but my knowledge of horses is zero.'

'In the course of my inquiries I've discovered that there's a big riding complex on the Chinese mainland, near Macau, where they keep lots of these animals,' I said, pointing again at the picture. 'Would you know anything about it?' I asked.

'I've just told you I know nothing about horses,' Firmin replied irritably. 'If that's what you've come to see me about you're wasting your time.'

No it isn't,' I responded. 'Can I sit down please?' He gestured to a chair by the dining table and sat opposite me.

From my pocket I extracted a copy of the recent lab report concerning the Miranda, and began by reminding him of the original purpose of my inquiries and my reasons for coming to the boat in the first place. 'Yes, yes, I'm aware of all that,' he cut in before I had finished, 'but I thought that had all been cleared up.'

'So did I,' I said, 'but this new evidence has just come to light,' I continued and held up the lab report. 'You're probably aware that there was another customs inspection of the boat, not long ago, here at this harbour?' He nodded apprehensively. 'Well this report confirms that there is recent evidence of Semtex being on board.' I passed the pieces of paper across the table. He picked them up as though they contained an infection, then glanced at them in a cursory manner.

'I don't know anything about this or what it means,' he said and put the papers back down on the table. 'You'll have to see Charles on this. I repeat it's his boat.'

'I intend to,' I replied. 'However, can I ask you if you've ever seen packets of the explosive Semtex, at any time, on this boat or during the whole of the voyage?' He thought for a few moments.

'Yes,' he eventually responded. 'When Charles found them in Damien's cabin at Crete.'

'But not since?'

'No, definitely not.'

'When you were docked at Singapore did other people come on board?'

'What do you mean by other people?'

'People like Shanin Rahman?' I said. Firmin's eyes flashed up at me in response. I had obviously touched a raw nerve.

'Yes, Charles and Alicia hosted a dinner party for him and his wife while we were in the harbour there. He's a close friend of theirs.'

'Were there other guests as well.'

'Yes,' Firmin responded hesitatingly.

'Would an Italian called Leone Ciaccio have been amongst them?'

'I honestly can't remember all their names,' he replied, again with a touch of irritability in his voice. 'Unfortunately my wife tells me I had too much wine that night.'

'H'm,' I said. 'You see Mister Firmin, Billy and Damien, even though they are still at loggerheads, both independently state that they never ever brought Semtex onto this yacht at Gibraltar or anywhere else. They say it must have either been Charles or Robert, or you.' Again his blue eyes shot up and stared at me vehemently.

'Well they would say that wouldn't they,' he retorted. 'That's preposterous. Why would any of us want to do that?'

'I don't know, but I intend to find out. You see the man Ciaccio, I mentioned, has serious criminal involvement with goods such as Semtex. You ask me why would any of you get involved with it. I ask myself the same question about Damien, Billy and Justin, except they have no associations with people like Ciaccio. Charles does!'

He scratched at his thick grey hair. My words had left him open mouthed, so I continued. 'The evidence I have here,' I held up the lab report, 'confirms that Semtex has recently been on this yacht. If that's the case it makes you an accessory to smuggling it into Hong Kong, which is a crime worthy of a prison sentence.' I paused. 'I'm only telling you this for your own benefit,' I added. By then a wide-eyed worried look had spread across his face.

'You'll have to see Charles about all this. I promise you I know nothing about any of it,' he countered.

'I repeat, I intend to. I just thought you and Mister Shore should be made aware of your situation.'

Soon after that our conversation came to an end. Before I left I gave him my business card, which contained my e-mail and mobile numbers and reiterated that I was employed by Her Majesty's Government.

* * * * *

I drove next to the customs office. Beforehand I had phoned ahead to warn the boss man of my impending arrival. He greeted me cordially. His face betrayed a cautious look of hope. 'I think I may have a man who would be prepared, if necessary, to argue the findings of the lab report in court,' he said. 'He's an American, over here on a short term contract, so he has no fears of recriminations. More important, he is young and idealistic. His name is Dwain Tugewell. I will introduce you to him in due course. I have a feeling you will get along.'

My spirits were rising. I went back to my hotel and got busy again on the phone and laptop. There were matters I needed to organise which I didn't want Wang to know about. On the laptop I checked out the layout of the land between Macau, the Chinese mainland and the area where it was thought Miss Lee was being kept. Then I phoned George, 'You mustn't repeat any of this to Wang,' I said, then explained my reasons. He mumbled some reply, which I didn't really follow, but I had no alternative but to trust him. He did listen attentively though, although he regularly interrupted to express his surprise. 'I will have to let you know,' he said as I concluded. 'It will be very difficult,' he added.

'I realise that,' I said, then pleaded about the time pressure I was under. During our call I also brought him up to date on the more recent developments in the case.

'I will see what I can do and get back to you,' he said finally. Our conversation had taken a long time.

Next I telephoned Charles Dewey's stables. In all it took several calls to actually speak to the man himself. When I did get through I gave a false name and introduced myself as a friend of Alicia Meredith, from England, who had recommended that I contact him. I said that I was interested in purchasing a Grullo stallion, and was given to understand he had some there in his stables. He confirmed that he did. 'Could I come and look?' I asked. 'Not to actually buy, but just to check over the finer points and best features of the breed,' I added. For a time he seemed unsure, then said that Mrs Meredith would be there the following day. I could go there then if I wanted.

On the internet I genned up some more on Grullo horses. Fortunately Miss Lee had left many notes on the matter. Seeing her handwriting again sharply brought home to me the risks I was taking. Later on I phoned Wang but there was still no news in that direction. He asked when we would meet up next. I hoped my excuses of delay satisfied him.

Afterwards I phoned the Chief of Police. He agreed to a meeting and a quarter of an hour later I was sitting in his cool palatial office, sipping mint tea, underneath the large fan. Again I was grateful for the respite and his time. As briefly as possible I told him some of my plan, excluding the part that related to Miss Lee. Regularly he looked at me with incredulity but at least he didn't interrupt until I had finished. Throughout our meeting a frown remained on his forehead.

'And do you think that will work?' he said when I'd outlined all my intentions.

'I don't know,' I replied, 'but I have to try. It's my only hope.' I went on to explain about the impending time limit. 'Will you help me?' I then said with determination.

'I will do what I can,' he replied, 'but I have explained to you before some of the problems we have here.'

I spent another half an hour or so in his office while he arranged for certain documents I had requested to be prepared. Then while I was in the area I visited the bank and drew out a large quantity of cash in American dollars.

That evening I received a long call from George. It appeared he had made progress on the matters we'd discussed. There were many intricate details for him to explain to me and repeatedly he kept saying, 'I can't promise you that this will work.'

In each instance I replied with, 'I have to try George.' A heavy sigh was his regular response. As we talked I made notes to remind myself of the exact plan. Before we finished the call he said, 'Did you get the money?'

'Yes I've got the money.'

* * * * *

Next morning I was up at dawn, having booked a very early heli-flight to Macau. I needed to be at the stables before the Merediths arrived. George picked me up at the heliport over there and while he drove me to Dewey's stables he updated me on the arrangements he had made. He still had his reservations, but it appeared he had made substantial progress. At the complex he waited in his car while I went inside. The same young lady as before greeted me, although I don't think she recognised me. When I told her of my appointment she phoned through to Dewey. 'He will be a few minutes,' she said. It was more like twenty minutes actually, but just as I was beginning to get edgy he walked briskly down the passageway towards me. Without the formal suit, his short stocky body made him look almost dwarf-like. He was wearing a padded body warmer, khaki shorts and knee length blue stockings. In his hand he was carrying a riding whip. His rotund face, like a contracted melon, jutted in my direction as he adjusted the pince-nez glasses at the end of his nose, and stared at me.

'You're too early. Mrs Meredith is not here yet,' he barked.

'I'm sorry,' I began. 'The early flight was the only one I could get on. Is it possible for me to look at the Grullo horses before she arrives?' I asked.

He stated forcefully that he needed to be out on the gallops with the horses. However, he spoke to the receptionist in Chinese. 'She will organise someone to take you to see them,' he said to me next, then with a strident military gait he disappeared back down the passageway, thwacking the riding crop against his legs as he walked. I had to wait almost another twenty minutes before a short Chinese man wearing a green t-shirt and shorts of the same colour arrived. 'You come with me,' he said. We went outside and he drove me in a buggy, at a frenetic speed, to the stables.

Fortunately he spoke reasonable English as he escorted me from one Grullo horsebox to the next. Remembering what I had read up on the internet I tried to quiz him on the finer points of the breed. At each stop he appraised me of the better qualities of the animal we were looking at. In one form or another all the horses bore either the grey or tan body and dark face; there was usually cobwebbing around the eyes with dark mottling and dark ear tips, plus the tiger striping on the legs, or a combination of all. Throughout the tour I thought about 'Rock', though in my memory he seemed much grander than these animals. 'Do you think this horse would be good for three day eventing?' I asked. The stallion we were looking at was thinner and taller than the others. The Chinese man studied me questioningly.

'It is possible,' he replied cautiously.

'To me he appears more athletically built than some of them ?' I queried. He hesitated before replying.

'For eventing horses, nowadays, there is a certain amount of cross breeding,' he replied.

'Cloning?' I said.

'If you want to call it that, yes, I suppose,' he added, with a suppressed smile.

I explained that I was there to meet Mrs Meredith and asked if I could see one of her Grullo horses. He took me out to the paddock. 'That is one of hers,' he said, pointing at a horse walking slowly around in the centre of the ring.

Now that did stop me in my tracks. I just couldn't believe it. The animal was the spitting image of 'Rock'. His size, his overall grey body; the swirling mane; the erect proud head; the prancing, high-stepping gait, were identical. 'Oh he's fantastic!' I exclaimed.

'He's kept for breeding,' the man said.

'How long has Mrs Meredith had him?' I asked.

'Oh a few years now. Four or five I suppose.'

'Amazing,' I said. I couldn't drag myself away.

'We have to go now. I have to get back to work,' the man began to stress.

I kept repeating 'Amazing, simply amazing,' and stood my ground watching the grace of the animal as he moved around. Eventually I was persuaded to go back to the main building.

Again I sat on the seat in the reception area for some time, waiting for Alicia Meredith. The young receptionist brought me some mint tea, for which I was grateful. Then I spotted a Rolls Royce pull up outside the main door. It was a different colour from the one I had seen at the harbour, but nevertheless Shanin Rahman climbed first out of the rear door. Immediately he turned back inside to help the other passenger. To my complete surprise I saw Alicia Meredith take his outstretched hand and step out. She was wearing full riding gear, but still managed to look elegantly glamorous. The embrace they shared and the lip binding kiss, was plainly more passionate than friendly. Rahman touched her cheek tenderly before getting back into the Rolls, which then drove away. There was no sign of Charles anywhere. Up until that point I'd only ever seen Alicia dressed in sailing garb and wearing very little make-up. The woman who strode along the tiled floor of the reception area towards me possessed the strut of a royal princess and looked sensational. Whether she recognised me or not I couldn't tell. Initially she glanced in my direction, then quickly turned her head away.

'Mrs Meredith,' I said when she was alongside. My words caused her to stop momentarily and realign her gaze on me. 'Do you remember me?' I asked. The gaze continued, but she shook her head in response and began to move on. 'We met twice on board the Miranda,' I said. 'Now do you remember?'

She stopped walking and turned back to face me with a look of implied insolence. 'Yes, I do remember,' she said. 'I thought all that business was over with back in Singapore.' I got up out of my seat and faced her. Animosity began to colour her expression.

'So did I, or at least as far as you were concerned I thought it had. Unfortunately new evidence has come to light which has placed your party right back in the forefront of the investigation.'

Suddenly her brown eyes looked full of strain. 'Well you will have to take the matter up with my husband,' she said. The yacht and everything to do with it is his business, not mine.'

'I intend to do that,' I responded, 'but I thought that you should be made aware of your own situation in this,' I added and handed her an envelope which until then I'd kept in my jacket pocket. The contents contained another copy of the lab report and a subpoena for her to attend at the office of the Chief of Police, to give evidence in a matter relating to smuggling Semtex into Hong Kong. 'I do think you should read what's in there,' I said.

She looked at the envelope without opening it, then turned away from me and continued on her way into the main part of the building, without saying anything more.

'Oh by the way,' I called after her. 'I've just seen your Grullo stallion. I think he's marvellous. Years ago my aunt used to have one exactly like him.'

She didn't respond and kept on walking.

* * * * *

George was waiting patiently for me in the car park. The fumes indicated he'd been smoking during my absence. I told him what I had just seen. He didn't know of Alicia Meredith, but was familiar with Rahman's name, having seen him occasionally on the local TV news.

We drove out of the complex. 'Now we have to tackle the difficult bit,' I said.

'H'm,' he responded.

As we journeyed he again went over the arrangements he had made. To me it sounded full of potential death traps, but I knew there were no other alternatives within my time limit.

We drove East out of Macau along the Zhuhai Avenue, then before we got to the river crossing checkpoint he pulled off into a housing estate. Newly built high rise apartment blocks, with immaculate formal gardens were everywhere. In a quiet road, a white van was parked, waiting for us. I noticed both the Chinese and Macau number plates. George explained that the driver also had to hold a separate driving license for each locality. The Chinese writing on the side meant little to me, but he confirmed that it was indeed a laundry van. Also, he told me that in Macau they drive on the left but once we crossed the bridge into China we would be driving on the right. He introduced me to Huiliang, the driver, who spoke only a little English and required five hundred American dollars for his part in the operation. I handed over an envelope containing the cash, then as surreptitiously as I could I got into the back of the van amongst the clean towels, sheets and other articles of the man's trade. A wicker laundry basket on wheels was also in there. George was to remain where we were parked and wait for us.

When Huiliang released the clutch to pull away I fell over sideways and landed in a heap amongst the laundry. Then I was really on my own, off visa, off permit, off jurisdiction, probably off my head as well I thought. For the next few hours my life would be in the hands of people who I didn't know and who were almost certainly alien to my culture. Shortly afterwards a judder of the brakes told me we were approaching the river checkpoint. This was the point of no return. They'd taken my five hundred dollars and I was about to become an illegal immigrant. At that moment they could shop me and I would be arrested. As I cowered in the back of the van I could hear Huiliang talking to the man on the checkpoint. With every accelerated beat of my heart I expected the back door of the van to open and to be grabbed by the militia.

Thankfully though we set off again without a problem and crossed the Qianshan Waterway onto the mainland with my heart still pounding like a hammer drill. I couldn't see out, there were no windows in the van, but I had been told that we would be taking the provincial road to Jinwan, then onto Doumen. Through the towns I detected the extra traffic noise, and the agitated use of the clutch as Huiliang negotiated busy junctions. Huangyang Avenue took us out of Doumen and I felt us travel over another river bridge crossing. Beforehand George had explained that we would be heading for the rural area around Gujingzhen, where the equestrian centre and the training complex were based. By then, my mouth was dry, like parchment. I wished I'd taken some water, but I knew I had to travel light. In the back I was grateful for the cushioning presence of the laundry as I bounced around like a human balloon. Huiliang was certainly no careful chauffeur. The rougher surface and preponderance of potholes told me we were in the countryside. Bodily bruises were forming and I hoped it wasn't going to be much further.

Mercifully, within a short period of time, I could feel the van begin to slow until we vibrated, nerve jarringly, across what seemed like a cattle grid. The brakes jammed on again and I was sent tumbling once more. Desperate not to make any noise I clung onto the sheets to prevent my body banging into the side panels. I heard Huiliang talk to what I guessed was the gate-man. Their conversation seemed to take forever. Again I half expected the back door of the van to open. But eventually I heard the squeak of what sounded like a metal gate opening. A sharp release of the clutch took us forward and me into another rolling tumble.

Onwards we went until Huiliang swung the vehicle into reverse which resulted in more uncontrollable gymnastics for me. When the van stopped he called back quietly in broken English, that he was coming around to the back. I must try to stay hidden, he said. I pushed the clean laundry and the basket in the direction of the door and scrunched down into as small a form as possible in the far corner behind it. When Huiliang opened one of the back doors I could see he had reversed up to a ramp which led into the rear of the complex.

'Keep down' he whispered, and began loading the clean washing into the laundry basket. My heart nearly jumped out of my skin when I saw another Chinese man come to the open door of the van. I cowered down more, although I knew he had seen me. 'It is OK. He is going to help us,' Huiliang whispered. 'That's why it is costing you so much money. Just keep down.'

As the pile of laundry diminished I was forced to use the basket as cover. When it was full Huiliang pushed the basket out towards the other man on the ramp and jumped out of the van. Quickly he shut the door, then I heard the clunk of the locks. Voices echoed from inside the building as the two men talked to others who must have been in there. Then the wheels of the basket clattered away and I said a silent prayer.

Sitting against the side wall of the van with my legs stretched out, conscious of the need to keep still and silent meant I could hear all the nearby sounds. Constantly there were footsteps. Again I half expected the back doors to open and to be arrested. Occasionally other vehicles drew up alongside, then there was noisy, jabbering conversation in Chinese. Once, somebody or something must have bumped into the side of the van. The resultant thump made me almost jump out of my skin. Other voices continuously echoed from inside the building. The time I spent locked in there waiting seemed like an eternity. There wasn't much air. I was sweating profusely and feeling very claustrophobic.

I was almost dozing into a drug-like sleep, when, from somewhere inside the building I heard the clatter of the laundry basket wheels getting nearer again. I listened hard and heard Huiliang talking to other people as he approached. I scrunched up into as small a ball as I could. Huiliang's voice was by then clearly audible. He was on the ramp just behind the van's back doors. A clunk told me he'd pressed the key to unlock the doors. I cowered further back into the corner.

The back doors opened and the laundry basket headed in my direction, with Huiliang behind, pushing. Over the top I could see him raise his hand in acknowledgement and smile. As soon as he was completely inside the other man closed the doors behind him. Huiliang put his finger to his mouth for me to remain silent, straightened the basket and slid out the rod that held the top closed. Energetically he began to extract the soiled sheets, towels and pillow cases that were inside. Then, like a 'Genie' from a bottle, my dear Ali appeared, with blinking eyes and a face smothered with tears and joy. She fell into my arms. Huiliang whispered the need for continued silence, but he couldn't stop me from covering her tear-stained face with kisses as we lifted her out of the basket. He pulled out some more soiled laundry for us to sit on, then opened the doors slightly and jumped back out onto the ramp. As he did so the other man shut the doors.

* * * * *

The sharp release of the clutch caused Miss Lee and I to both tumble uncontrollably as we drove away. The errant basket rolled in our direction. Quickly I righted myself and grabbed hold of it. The last thing we needed as we approached the security gate was that thing banging on the sides of the van, attracting attention. I whispered to her that we must be absolutely still and silent until we were through the gate and out onto the road. In the semi darkness I could see her eyes shining bright with fear. I held my breath as we came to a halt. Miss Lee slithered up to me on her bottom and held on tight. We both listened to events outside.

Again I could hear Huiliang talking to the man on the gate. This time however a long dialogue back and fore ensued. My heart was again pounding with fear. Miss Lee mimed to me that the gateman wanted to see Huiliang's papers. Then he required the receipt for the laundry. I began to worry. My next fear was that he would need to look in the back to check on the cargo. Her eyes held mine in desperation. Their conversation continued. Suddenly Huiliang and the other man both began to laugh. Another sharp jerk on the clutch and the van pulled away. Shortly afterwards Huiliang called back to check that we were both OK.

Throughout that journey to the river crossing Miss Lee and I clung onto each other. Partly for mutual protection from the constant rolling of the van, and partly because of the sheer joy of being back in each other's company again. More tears ran down her cheeks as she related the events of her captivity. I listened intently while at the same time stroking her arms and kissing her forehead. She had been arrested by the local police at the horse complex on a charge of spying. They took her to the nearest police station where she was interrogated and physically pushed around. At that point she said she was in fear of her life, but by continually repeating that she worked for the British Foreign Office, they relented somewhat. She was, however, kept for a night in a cell, and given only rice and water. They took away her passport, papers and phone. Next day they moved her, in a police van with no windows, to the training complex. She worried that she was going to be taken to the womens prison. That would be the end of her she thought. When I managed to interrupt, I constantly repeated that all of those events were my fault. 'I blame myself totally for everything,' I said many times during the journey.

She continued with her story. To her relief she was taken to one of the athlete's rooms in the training complex, with its own toilet and shower. All the time her door was locked, but she could see the surrounding countryside out of a window, which was similarly locked. Her room was on the third floor. Different people brought her rice and tea, but nobody would tell her what was happening. Then the day before, one of the men who brought the food, said that somebody may be coming to collect her. If that happened she was not to panic, he said. She would be all right, but she must be prepared to leave in an instant. She couldn't take anything with her, he'd added. It was the same man who'd opened the van door with Huiliang, she said, having recognised his voice.

I explained to her about the river crossing over the Quiashan estuary and the need again for complete silence. She nodded her head and I mopped at her tears with my handkerchief. When we got near the bridge we felt the van slow down. Huiliang called back to us to keep quiet. We held each other close and hardly dared to breathe as we listened to the conversation when the van stopped. Mercifully this time it was brief. We hugged and kissed as the van pulled away. I told her that George would be waiting for us in a car nearby.

### CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

George was sitting in his car puffing on a cigarette when I disembarked from the back of the van. I gave him a smile and thumbs up. I told Miss Lee to stay put, then dived into the front seat of the van alongside Huiliang. 'You and your people have done very well by us,' I said. 'I am grateful.' He smiled at me. 'This is what we agreed I think,' I added, then handed over an envelope containing another five hundred dollars.' We shook hands. He smiled again.

'You both take care now,' he said.

There wasn't time to hang around. Somebody could be on our tail. I ran around to the back of the van, pulled Miss Lee out, closed the van doors, then banged with my fist on the back. Huiliang drove away quickly while Miss Lee and I got into the back seat of George's car. The engine was running. He'd been on the phone. As soon as we were seated he handed the mobile back to Miss Lee. 'Someone to speak to you,' he said. Wang was on the other end of the line. A tearful conversation followed between them while George drove away in racing mode. The ride back to Macau was almost as uncomfortable as it had been in the back of the van. We slid frighteningly round corners, jumped across junctions. I was worried we'd get stopped for speeding.

The arrangement I'd made with George was to get Miss Lee off Macau by boat. We couldn't risk the heliport, as we'd still be in Chinese territory. By then alarms would have been raised about her disappearance from the training complex and I guessed it would be one of the places they'd check. So we sped on to the harbour. I explained all this to Wang as we travelled. Hong Kong was also considered too risky. They could track her down there as well, so a boat, owned by another of George's friends, would take her to Kaohsiung, on the island of Taiwan. There was an airport there and Wang said he'd fly out to meet up with her.

As you can imagine it was a fairly painful parting for both of us when we reached the quayside at Macau. After so many days apart our reunion had been brief, strained and difficult. Now another lengthy separation was to follow. There was no way Miss Lee could return to Chinese territory and my committed task for the next ten days or so would be to clear up this investigation once and for all. In the back of George's car we again hugged and kissed, then at the harbour she followed George onto a small cruiser, carrying with her another envelope loaded with dollars. Anonymity was still required, so I had to stay in the back of the car, while she was taken below decks. When George returned I could just see her tiny hand waving to me behind a porthole window as we sped away. My heart was feeling like lead.

* * * * *

Once again I was exhausted and couldn't wait to get back to my hotel to crash out, but I had to see Wang first. I knew he would be desperate for more details of Miss Lee. When I entered his office it looked as though five years of strain had disappeared from his face. He clasped my hand and embraced me. I brought him up to date on matters regarding her shipment out of Macau. George had given her a mobile phone to use and I gave him the number.

'You are still a crazy man doing all that by yourself,' Wang said, 'Anything could have happened. You could have both been arrested and killed.'

'I know,' I replied, 'but I had to try. To do what I have to do next I had to be certain that she was safe first. Without that I couldn't be sure of the possibilities of reprisals against her. As you know they've seen us together on board the Miranda and also at Dewey's stables. I am convinced there is probably a tie up in all this with the Chinese.'

'But I could have helped you,' he said.

'No you couldn't,' I replied. 'You'd have been too worried and stopped me.'

He looked me straight in the eye, then a broad smile crossed his face and he put his hands up on my shoulders. 'Well you have done very well,' he said. 'We will have a drink to toast her health.' From his desk drawer he took out a bottle of Chinese whisky, then filled two coffee cups to the brim, raised the cup and said 'Ali.'

'Ali,' I responded and took a slug. The mixture must have been about eighty per cent proof and nearly blew my head off. While we both savoured the rest of it more slowly I told him about my sighting of Rahman and Alicia. He shook his head in surprise. When I got back to my hotel the only thing I was capable of doing was to crash out and sleep.

* * * * *

Only the occasional vision of Miss Lee interrupted my sleeping pattern. When I awoke I was still tired and sore. Bruises were evident on my body from my time in the back of the van, so I dosed myself in an alternative hot and cold shower. Afterwards, on my laptop I discovered a long e-mail from Haydn. Like Billy Tennant, he had also discovered a history of corrupt practises involving the freighting of Charles Meredith's telecom equipment to China. The customs people in the UK had a large dossier on the matter. Prosecutions had looked imminent but at the last moment the Board of Trade intervened and the Customs were warned off the case. At the time there were various British trade delegations in China, promoting our manufacturers, so there was some excuse used about not wanting to upset the Chinese. To make the prosecutions against Meredith stick would have required verification from the Chinese about what exactly was being landed in their country. It seems the Government were reluctant to let that happen whilst they were doing their utmost to sell British companies over there. So the prosecutions were abandoned and never reinstated.

Haydn had also been active in speaking to his own horsey friends. According to them there were more than just rumours about a relationship between Alicia Meredith and Shanin Rahman. It seems there had been many sightings of them out riding together. She was a regular visitor to his mansion in Surrey, without Charles, when Rahman's wife was not there. It was said also that Rahman helped them purchase the villa in Hong Kong so that Alicia could fly out there to be near him. Rumour had it that Rahman gave Charles shares in his winning racehorses to placate him after he found out about their infidelity. I read through Haydn's e-mail two or three times. Afterwards I decided that I had enough evidence to act upon my plan. If I was going to do anything it had to be then or never.

Surprisingly, just as I was about to go out I received a telephone call from Lawrence Firmin. 'Robert Shore and I both need to see you,' he said breathlessly when I answered. 'Is it possible this morning?' Initially I was taken aback.

'Certainly,' I replied. He went on to tell me that the two of them had received subpoenas from the Hong Kong police to attend for an interview on the matter of smuggling Semtex. They had been summoned to appear at the same time and date as Alicia, he told me. I smiled to myself. At least it seemed that the Chief of Police was on my side and doing his bit to help. Firmin certainly sounded in a flap. I arranged to meet them both in a restaurant I had previously spotted near the harbour.

They were already there when I arrived, wearing troubled expressions. Two half drunk cups of coffee were in front of them on the table. Both were clutching onto what looked like their subpoenas 'Would you like one of these?' Firmin asked, pointing at his coffee cup as I sat down.

'Please,' I replied.

'Look, just what is all this about?' Robert Shore said to me as Firmin dealt with the waiter. 'Lawrence and I know nothing about Semtex or anything else connected to smuggling.' His brown eyes were aflame. 'Why are we being dragged into this?'

'Because there is new evidence that Semtex was recently on board the Miranda. You two were also on the Miranda for the journey here, which, at the very least, makes you accessories to the crime. And of course you were both witnesses to the packets of Semtex at Crete when there was a definite sighting of the explosives.' They both looked at each other.

'We repeat that neither of us is into that sort of thing,' Firmin said adamantly. 'We were under the impression that the three younger ones were responsible for all of that.'

'But the three younger ones haven't been on board the Miranda since Crete and the Customs assure me that the traces of the explosive are recent,' I said. 'They also have an expert who is prepared to stand up in court and testify to that effect.' The creases on their foreheads deepened.

Firmin ran his hand through his thick mop of hair. 'OK,' he said, 'so what do we have to do to prove our innocence. Our wives are going frantic over this. We are all supposed to be out here for a holiday. Now we are being summoned to the police station with the possibility of being arrested for God knows what.' My coffee arrived. I stirred in some brown sugar.

'I think you've both got to cast your minds back over the voyage. If what you're saying to me about your non involvement in Semtex is true, then the only other possible culprits must be Charles and Alicia. I repeat, the three younger ones have not been on board for a long time now. The info I'm receiving is that the Semtex may have been brought on board at Singapore. You tell me,' I said pointing at Firmin, 'that Shanin Rahman, came on board there and I have evidence that a man named Leone Ciaccio was also possibly present. As I said to Mr. Firmin before, that man has a long record of smuggling illicit cargoes like Semtex. They are both friends and business associates of Charles Meredith. I'm afraid I can only put two and two together.' They both stared at me in horror struck silence. I continued. 'You must both therefore search your memories and consciences for any details or incidents you can recall which could be instrumental in all of this, or I'm afraid you are both going to be dragged into a messy legal mire.'

The three of us talked for another half hour or so. We went over many details of the voyage. The stops they made, who actually did what and went where, when the Miranda was docked. To be fair they both worked hard at trying to recall some of the incidents. Unfortunately, at the various ports of call there were many times when Alicia and Charles were left alone on board while they went ashore, and vice versa. 'I really think we should discuss all this with our solicitors before we meet up with the police,' Lawrence said eventually. 'Robert and I really haven't a clue what we are letting ourselves in for. I mean we are being summoned to a police station in Chinese territory with regard to a matter we really don't know anything about. We could be kept in jail there until there is a trial or worse. We just don't know.'

We all looked at each other. Clearly I could see that they were both seriously worried. 'Well I think your best bet is to go and see the British Consul,' I said. 'They will advise you. You can talk to your English solicitors by all means, but the law out here is different and they won't have the authority to act. The consul is your best bet. They could well accompany you to the police station, or at least make contact with the officials there.'

And so on that note I left them. In my own mind I was fairly sure that the two of them were not directly involved in this business, but all the different twists and turns so far had caught me out before and this time I was leaving nothing to chance. I drove away to see Wang.

His more relaxed demeanour on greeting me told me that he must have had recent phone conversations with Miss Lee. 'She is fine,' he said, with a smile when I enquired. 'They hope to dock in Kaohsiung tomorrow. I have booked on a flight which will get me there later in the day.'

I asked about George and his pals on the mainland. Wang related that Ali's departure from the complex had resulted in mayhem, consternation and confusion. It seems the set up there was pretty relaxed and to date those in charge had been unable to fathom out how she actually got away.

As he'd promised, Wang had been keeping close tabs on the Merediths and Rahman. He told me that there had been various meetings between the three of them at each others villas, which were also attended by numerous other people 'in suits' and, on other occasions, Charles had called into the offices of Jubilee Holdings. As I had hoped, my prior activities had obviously stirred up the hornets nest.

Later in the day I received a call from Dwain Tugewell. 'Patrick, I've been hearing about your problems,' he began. 'I think we should meet up.' We agreed upon the lobby bar in my hotel in an hours time.

Before then I also had a call from the British Consul. 'I've just had a meeting with Lawrence Firmin and Robert Shore,' he said when I answered.

'Good, I'm pleased they have contacted you,' I replied, then as briefly as I could I gave him the background details of the case.

'How deeply are these two implicated?' he asked. 'They've asked us to go along with them to the police station on Friday.'

I said it may be an idea for him, or one of his people, to attend. Then I gave him a resumé of the latest situation regarding the lab report. I concluded by saying to him that I didn't really believe they were the culprits regarding the Semtex.

'Who do you think is then?' the consul asked.

'Charles Meredith,' I said, then went on to explain about his connections with Shanin Rahman, Leone Ciaccio and the problems with the shipments of freight from Charles's factory to Hong Kong.

'Oh yes,' he responded. 'I remember something about that, but it was all swept under the carpet by our government if I recall.' Before we finished our conversation he agreed that somebody from the Consulate would be present at the police station.

* * * * *

I was nursing a whisky and soda when Dwain Tugewell, a fresh faced, blonde haired, all American lad, in his late twenties, strode into the hotel lobby bar. He could have been a quarter back for any number of college university football teams. Well over six foot tall and with the physique of an athlete, he greeted me with a broad smile and an outstretched hand. It seems the custom's chief had described me and there was certainly no mistaking him.

'What are you drinking?' I asked. Unsurprisingly he opted for a coke.

When his drink arrived I went into a lengthy description of the major aspects in this case. He listened attentively while sipping at the coke. Occasionally he brushed errant strands of his blonde hair away from his forehead. 'And are you reasonably sure that this man Meredith is the perpetrator here?' he said at the end of my monologue.

'I can't be a hundred percent sure, no,' I replied. 'I'm not a detective or a criminal lawyer. But as I've just tried to explain, all the evidence and innuendos point in that direction. At this juncture it all depends on whether your lab report will stand up under scrutiny and prove that the traces of Semtex found on the Miranda are recent. If it doesn't, I don't believe we would get a prosecution.'

Dwain had brought with him a buff coloured file from which he extracted a copy of the said document. 'You see at the moment,' he began, 'us Yanks are pretty upset and sensitive about anything to do with terrorists and high explosives. We've all still got nine eleven fixed firmly in the forefront of our brains.' His eyes reverted to the sheets of paper in front of him. 'I'm happy to back this report,' he said, then proceeded, at length, to go through each page, verbally outlining his reasons why. I was impressed.

'And you'd be prepared to go to court and stand by all that?' I asked, when he'd finished.

'I would indeed,' he responded.

'Perhaps more immediately, would you be happy to come to the police station on Friday and confirm your conclusions?'

'Certainly,' he responded.

Later that evening I received a telephone call from Lawrence Firmin. 'Since our meeting Robert and I have been racking our brains to try and remember any unusual events on the Miranda of the sort you indicated,' he said.

'And?' I responded.

'Well there was something which we didn't pay much attention to at the time.'

'Go on,' I said.

'It was the night of the dinner party at Singapore. I mentioned there was a bit of a do, which was attended by Shanin Rahman and a few other people we didn't know.'

'Yes.'

'Well, late that afternoon, when Robert and I got back to the Miranda; we'd been up in town shopping, but as we got out of the taxi we spotted two men in dark suits carrying boxes on board. At the time we thought absolutely nothing about it, as the caterers were also taking things on board for the party that night.' I heard Lawrence breathe heavily down the phone. 'It was only after talking to you that Robert and I realised that the two men were the same people who came on board with Rahman here in Hong Kong to carry ashore Charles and Alicia's suitcases. I'm afraid it just didn't twig with us before,' he added. 'Would that be any use in all this?'

'Would you be prepared to say that at the Police Station and also if necessary in court?'

'If it proved to be relevant, I suppose we would have to.'

'Great. See you Friday then,' I said.

### CHAPTER NINETEEN

And so, on the Friday morning I attended again at the delightfully cool office of the Chief of Police, along with Lawrence, Robert, Alicia and Charles, Douglas Spears(the Assistant British Consul,) Dwain Tugewell, as well as a man called Huang, who was from the local prosecutor's office.

Having arrived early I was able to speak with the Chief of Police beforehand. He told me that Shanin Rahman had already been on the phone to him that morning issuing dire threats if court proceedings were instigated over this matter. Amongst the likely consequences, according to Rahman, was the possibility of slashing police budgets. Something that couldn't get much thinner anyway, the chief joked. He did reiterate to me however, his wish to proceed, if only because it might 'frighten the buggers into cutting back on some of their other activities on my island.' I advised him that a forensic expert from the Customs office would also be attending.

The chief had set aside a meeting table in a corner of his large office, with an appropriate number of chairs and plenty of water jugs and glasses. Those attending all turned up at differing intervals. Huang was first and I was glad to have the opportunity to update him on recent events. Charles and Alicia were last. A large pair of sunglasses were perched in her dark shiny hair. She wore a pale yellow dress, revealing her long sun tanned legs and very high heeled cream shoes.

'I hope we can get this stupid nonsense over and done with once and for all, so we can all get about our business,' Charles said as he stood in the middle of the room. He nodded to Lawrence and Robert. They in turn moved towards Alicia and both kissed her on the cheek.

When everybody was gathered the Chief of Police made brief introductions and motioned for us all to sit around the table, while he sat at the top end.

'It has been brought to my attention,' he began, 'that a quantity of the explosive Semtex may have been brought ashore from the boat 'Miranda' here at our harbour. Firstly, that is an illegal and dangerous cargo. Secondly, there is possible evidence that the explosive is part of a batch stolen from a quarry near Lyon in France. I am the law enforcement officer in this town, so it is my job to investigate the matter. As the owner of the boat what have you got to say Mr Meredith?' Everybody around the table turned their heads to look at Charles.

'At this time I'm almost tempted to say that there is nothing sensible I can add. Of course we didn't smuggle Semtex on the yacht. Why would we want to do that?' he said, looking at Lawrence and Robert.

They both shook their heads but said nothing. Charles continued.

'It's a preposterous suggestion to make. If Semtex was at any time on board my yacht I suggest it was planted by somebody else to make it look like we were all involved in the shenanigans of our young friends back in Gibraltar. We know that Semtex was on the vessel then because Lawrence and I discovered it. Having got it off the boat in Crete, why would we want to bring more back on. That's ludicrous, we know it's an illegal cargo,' he turned his head again towards Lawrence and Robert. They remained silent.

'Why indeed,' the Chief of Police responded. 'As you all know by now, we have a lab report that has given rise to these allegations.' He picked up a copy from the table. 'I think you all have seen it, but if you haven't there are copies available on the table in front of you.' Charles picked up one of the copies.

The Chief of Police continued. 'At this time I would like to ask Mr Tugewell here to go through the report. He is a qualified forensic expert.' The chief held his hand out in Tugewell's direction and indicated for him to proceed.

Dwain stood up. Initially he spelled out the qualifications he'd obtained at Berkley University. Then briefly he outlined the work he'd done in the forensics world before coming to Hong Kong. His west coast American accent sounded strangely out of place amongst the Brits and Chinese. Referring to the report, he firstly explained some of the technical terms used therein. He said the Semtex in question was a plastic bonded type and would normally be activated by a blasting cap or exploder, which would need to be physically embedded into the explosive. 'The cap is then usually ignited by a spring or fuse, sometimes with a time switch,' he continued. 'So in normal circumstances it is safe to transport the explosive by ship or aeroplane, as long as the detonators aren't connected. If the vessel was in a serious collision, fire, or something similar, then of course it might explode.' He took a drink of water then carried on. 'In the past the detection apparatus used at airports and customs was unable to detect Semtex. That's how they were able to get it onto the Lockerbie aircraft without anybody picking up on it. Because of that, in recent times, the makers of the product have started to produce what has become known in the trade as a smelly version, which can be detected by sniffer dogs.' I looked at Charles. Sweat was breaking out on his forehead. 'The smell emitted,' Dwain said, 'also enables the country of manufacture to be identified. In this case I can confirm that the country of origin is France.' The prosecutor, the Chief of Police and I, all looked at each other. By then Dwain had everybody's undivided attention. Except for the sound of his voice and the whirring of the fan overhead, everything else in the room had become very quiet and still. 'What actually happens is that the explosive gives off a vapour into the air, which the sniffer dogs can then pick up on. I am able to say this Semtex was produced in France, because the report tells me that traces of the vapour on the articles taken from the Miranda had a slightly sweet smell, like almonds. Semtex made in other countries give off differing identifiable vapours.' Dwain paused for breath. 'From the report I am also able to confirm that Semtex had recently been on board the Miranda, when she docked here. The vapour I've mentioned doesn't remain traceable for very long after the Semtex has been removed from the immediate area, so I am confident to say that these traces wouldn't have survived from the time the boat left Crete, as has been claimed.' Dwain looked down again at the papers in his hand, then re-took his seat.

For many moments there was complete silence in the room, interrupted only by the squeaking of the fan. Then, without warning, Charles Meredith's clenched fist hammered down in anger on the table. 'This is complete and utter errant nonsense,' he bellowed and rose to his feet. His face was flushed, spittle emitted from his mouth with the venom of his vitriol. 'If these findings are correct,' he said holding up the report in his hand, 'it must have been planted by someone else. It's just preposterous,' he added and flung the copy of the report he was holding down on the table. Alicia placed her hand on his arm in an attempt to calm him down, but it had little effect. Firmin and Shore looked abashed but said nothing. 'You're our representative here, what are you going to do about it?' Charles shouted and pointed directly at the assistant British Consul.

Spears, a young man in his early thirties with tightly cropped, dark curly hair, looked warily back at Meredith. 'All I'm allowed to do Mr Meredith, is to try and look after your welfare, while you're here on the island. Unfortunately I am unable to intervene, for or against, in anything to do with law enforcement.'

'That's rubbish!' Charles retorted. Alicia tried to get him to sit down but he resisted. He looked across at Lawrence and Robert, but their lips still remained sealed.

'Mr Meredith I must ask you to sit down,' the Chief of Police intervened, 'otherwise I will have to bring in one of the constables to restrain you.' With evident reluctance Charles slumped down onto his chair and wiped his brow. 'In view of what's been said,' the Chief continued, 'I have no alternative but to refer the matter to the prosecutor. What say you Mr. Huang?' he added and pointed to the prosecution man.

Huang rose slowly out of his seat and looked down at the notes he had been making. He was a short stocky man in his early fifties, dressed in a white short sleeved shirt, blue tie and dark blue trouser. His jet black hair was sleeked back; a tiny clipped moustache abutted his top lip. 'From what I know of the background here and in view of the recent evidence,' he began, 'I believe that there is a case to answer for.' Charles sighed out 'Pah!' as Huang spoke, but the prosecutor continued. 'My department will investigate further, but it is likely we will want to go to court.' Charles looked exasperated.

The Chief of Police cut in. 'Ok. Then I must ask the four of you who sailed on the Miranda to surrender your passports to me.' He looked across at all of them. 'I will not detain you here yet, but you will all be under house arrest. The yacht will be impounded for a more thorough inspection. None of you will be allowed to leave the island. Is that clear. The prosecutor has twenty four hours to decide if he definitely wants to proceed. If so we may then require bail, which will be set by the court. When, and if, it comes to that, you will be allowed legal representation. In the meantime I suggest the four of you speak with your Consul. You may use a room here for that if you choose.' The four had all developed ashen faces. Alicia then buried her head in her hands and began to cry. Charles and Lawrence attempted to console her. 'I think the meeting is at an end,' the Chief said.

One by one we all slowly got out of our seats. The four off the yacht veered to the far side of the room with Spears. The Chief went on his phone to organise matters. Huang gathered Tugewell and me over to the other end of the Chief's office. 'The three of us need to have a meeting here today, before we leave,' he said. 'I'll organise a room.'

The meeting took an hour or more during which Huang made more copious notes on everything we related. Dwain confirmed that he would be prepared to stand up in court to back up the report if required. Huang thanked us and then left, saying he had much work to do over the next twenty four hours. Dwain and I took ourselves off to the nearest bar to unwind over a few beers. For the first time in an age I was able to relax properly. His stories of California and girls were exactly what I needed.

When I got back to my hotel room I phoned Wang. Miss Lee was with him. I talked to them both and told them about the events of the day. They both sounded happy and relaxed. I couldn't wait to see her again.

* * * * *

Early next morning I was woken by the sound of my mobile ringing. Clumsily my hands fumbled around the bedside table. 'Yes,' I said bad temperedly into the mouthpiece before I opened my eyes.

'Have you seen the TV news?' the voice said. When my brain clicked into action I realised it was Dwain.

'No, I was still asleep,' I responded.

'Well take a look now if you can.'

Grumbling to myself I clambered awkwardly out of bed and stumbled about looking for the remote. Fortunately the TV was still stationed on the news channel from the previous night. My muzzy eyes struggled to focus but eventually I could pick out an ambulance with lots of camera flashlights going off around it. 'I'm on it now,' I said down the phone to Dwain. 'What's going on?'

'Just stick with it for a few moments you'll soon see.'

In the next instant a photograph of Charles Meredith came on the TV screen. 'It's Meredith,' I shouted. 'What the hell's happened?'

Dwain had seen an earlier bulletin. 'He's committed suicide,' he said. The newsreel reverted back to the ambulance and in the background I recognised features of Meredith's villa.

'Bloody hell!' I said.

'That'll put the cat amongst the pigeons,' Dwain responded.

The news programme continued with another item. I turned off the sound, sat on the edge of the bed and for the next quarter of an hour or so we talked over the possibilities. Dwain told me that no further details had been released. I said I would try to get an appointment with the Chief of Police later in the morning and would keep him posted. After we'd finished speaking I phoned Wang and Miss Lee in Taiwan. They were both disturbed by the news. Wang said he would fly back that day as Miss Lee was now fairly comfortable in her surroundings. After I had dressed and breakfasted in my room I put in a call to the British Consulate and spoke to Spears. He told me that after the previous days meeting he and all the four had a lengthy session at the police station, during which he'd outlined the likely course of events, and their rights. Throughout it all he related that Charles remained bad tempered and pretty depressed. They'd parted with the understanding that there would be another meeting, this time with the Consul, once the prosecutor's intentions were clear. Spears said that the Consul was at that moment at the Meredith's villa. He revealed that Charles had taken a massive overdose of tablets and he promised to keep me updated with any news.

It was near lunchtime before I was able to get in to see the Chief of Police. He confessed to me that all hell had broken loose. He was being bombarded with pressure from all and sundry, including an abusive call from Rahman, threatening dire repercussions. Throughout our brief meeting however, he seemed to me to be blessed with an inner calm. Soon I was able to discover why.

'Now I am going to have to trust you with some important information,' he began. 'You must not repeat this to anybody for a very long time. I'm only revealing this to you now because the results in this case have been achieved largely on the back of the groundwork you have done and also, because I guess, in view of what has happened that you will be pretty quickly pulled out of here. Do I have your word?'

'You do indeed,' I replied, while still wondering.

From his desk drawer, the Chief extracted a plastic bag containing two foolscap sheets of paper, on which I could see handwriting. 'Meredith left a suicide note,' the Chief said and held up the bag. 'Fortunately one of my officers, who was the first on the scene, spotted it before anybody else and brought it in. I'm trusting you with this,' he added, looking me straight in the eye.

I nodded at him in return and he handed me a separate sheet of paper on which the words had been typed out. It took me some time to read it all. In fact I read it twice, before saying anything, just to make sure I'd taken it all in. 'Does anybody else know about all this?' I said afterwards. He shook his head.

'To date only you, me and the police officer who found it and I wish it to remain so for some time.'

'I repeat you have my word,' I said.

The note was in the form of a handwritten letter to Alicia. It read;

My dearest Alicia,

I am afraid that all this has become just too much for me to cope with any longer. To put you, Lawrence and Robert through a court case and maybe jail afterwards, because of my stupidity, is too unbearable for me to contemplate. Unfortunately I have allowed this man Rahman to rule my life for too long now. I suppose it started out initially as a way of trying to impress you, with horses and all the things you wanted. In the end though I became too greedy, wanting too many other things. In return for his favours I got involved with smuggling and many silly things. Regrettably I have to confess that it was I who brought the Semtex on board the Miranda. It was nothing whatsoever to do with any of the others. Having disposed one load of it at Crete, when I thought it had been traced to us, I was stupid enough to be persuaded by Rahman to take on some more at Singapore. Both sets of the cargo were bound for a syndicate he and Ciaccio operated for selling the explosive. How foolish I've been.

He has taken from me everything I cherished. My pride, my integrity and finally you.

I hope that you will not think badly of me.

As ever, all my love,

Charles

I handed the notepaper back to the Chief with a shake of my head. 'I think my work here is complete,' I said. 'From now on it becomes a legal matter. As you said earlier it would be best if I got away as soon as possible.' He nodded in agreement. Very briefly we talked a little more, shook hands and then I left him to deal with his phone calls. Later on I found out that during the evening of Charles's suicide Alicia had been at Rahman's villa. As I write this story, a lengthy court action is continuing involving Rahman, Ciaccio and many others, part of which involves the events described herein. My instructions are that this book will not be released until their convictions are effected.

* * * * *

Back in my hotel room, as I packed my bags for the airport, I had on the local TV news. There was more coverage of Meredith's death. Instantly I stopped what I was doing when some library footage of Alicia appeared on the screen. In the background behind her, in a paddock, I could see the grey Grullo stallion I had spotted at Dewey's stables. He looked marvellous, just like 'Rock', all those years ago. Unfortunately I was unable to dally as my flight would be taking off soon and Miss Lee had arranged to meet me at the airport in Taiwan.

### THE END

### ABOUT RICHARD F JONES

If you have enjoyed this book Richard has five other published novels, War to the Death, A Flight Home, Dancing with the Devil, Time on their Hands and Mountain Intrigue. Details can be found on his web site :http://www.richardfjones.net

Richard was born in North Wales, but he has also lived in the highlands of Scotland, the Wye Valley, Spain and Majorca. All his page turning novels are set in places where he has had a home.

