Jack laughed. ‘I have the seasick too, buddy.’
Chapter Forty
The ferry, MV Salena, departed Marseilles pretty much on time, a few minutes after 6pm. The ship was busy, and Victoria had done a great job getting tickets. There were people everywhere, so Jack and Bogdan quickly headed for the Business Class bar and settled down until the ship had cleared the harbour.
‘What’s the plan now, boss?’
‘We wait until we’re out at sea. Then we go find him. We know he’s not gonna be tooled-up, so it should be easy enough for the two of us to take him. Then we sit on him until we dock. Mathew will contact the British Embassy, and they’ll have an arrest warrant ready when we disembark.’
‘That’s it? We just hand him over? We don’t get to fuck him up?’
Jack shook his head and grinned. ‘You can give him a slap. But our job is to catch the bastard, big man.’
‘And then what?’
‘We go home, buddy.’
‘So, the Brits will get ransom back?’
‘Pretty much yeah. I guess they’ll have to pay something to the banks, but yeah they’ll get the money back.’
Jack said nothing more, as his old friend slumped down in the recliner, a look of disappointment, on his usually happy face. He waited a couple of minutes and then said. ‘There will, I’m sure, be a substantial reward though.’
The Russian turned to Jack. ‘Substantial?’
‘Yeah. Maybe two or three million pounds.’
The smile returned to the big man’s face. ‘Da, this is good. But I think it should be three mill, not two, boss.’
Jacked smiled and nodded. ‘Da, Bogdan. Three, not two.’
The Business Lounge was busy but, with the absence of kids, not too raucous. After finding and confirming their seats, they headed to the restaurant. They took a table in the corner and kept their eyes peeled, just in case Washington showed up. Bogdan had a couple of beers, Jack drank coke, as usual. Two large steaks, a nice Béarnaise sauce, champignons and fries, gave them the first decent meal for three days.
Back in the lounge they relaxed and waited until the passengers had gone to their cabins or settled down for the night. Neither of them had slept properly for over forty-eight hours and, at almost one in the morning, Jack was surprised to find they’d been asleep for almost four hours. The lights in the lounge had been dimmed and the place was quiet, with only the odd one or two people reading under the tiny courtesy-lights.
Jack shook the Russian, and said quietly, ‘Bogdan.’
As usual the big man woke with a start, ‘Hrrrm!’
‘Shhh… It’s okay.’
‘Time is it, boss?’
‘It’s after one. Come on, let’s go.’
They made their way from the public decks, down towards the central reception. As they passed through the bar, Jack bought a bottle of champagne, and asked for an ice-bucket and three flutes.
Behind the reception desk a young man was intent on studying his computer screen. Jack placed the champagne on the counter, smiled, and said, ‘Excuse me.’
‘Oui, monsieur?’
‘We’ve just had a message that one of our old friends is travelling on this ferry as well,’ he tapped the bottle, ‘and we’d like to surprise him. Would you be able to tell us where we can find him please?’
The receptionist looked at the wine, then Jack, and then the big man standing behind him. ‘I’m sorry, monsieur, but we don’t usually give out that kind of information.’
‘Of course, of course. I understand. But we’ve not seen him for many years and it would be such a great reunion for us.’ Jack rattled the bottle in the ice.
‘But, monsieur I …’
Still smiling, Jack slid two, one-hundred euro notes discreetly across the counter.
The man quickly placed a sheet of paper on the notes, and said quietly, ‘Very well, monsieur. What is your friend’s name?’
‘Washington. Mr Rick Washington.’
‘Un moment, monsieur.’
Jack turned to Bogdan and winked.
A few seconds later, the young man looked up and said, ‘I’m sorry monsieur, Mr Washington is not on-board.’
Jack continued to smile. ‘But we have a message from his wife that he is definitely on-board. Could you please check again?’
‘No, monsieur. I mean, oui. Monsieur Washington did board the ship but disembarked again before we sailed.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Of course,’ the man tapped the screen, ‘it is here on the manifest.’
Jack said nothing for several seconds, then turned to Bogdan. ‘He did see me in the carpark… Shit.’
As they walked away from the desk, the receptionist, called, ‘Monsieur. Your champagne?’
Jack looked over his shoulder, and said, ‘You have it.’
About seven hours earlier, Rick Washington had indeed seen Jack Castle in the terminal carpark. Startled for a second, and then calmly carrying on, the American had boarded the Salena as if all was well. Once on-board he’d concealed himself on the boat-deck and watched Castle and the big man come aboard.
It was only at the last minute, as the gangway was about to be hauled away, he made his move and stepped onto it. An officer rushed forward and stopped him. ‘We are about to sail, monsieur,’ he said.
Washington told the officer he must get off. ‘It’s an emergency. I’m not travelling. I must get off immediately.’
‘But wait, monsieur, I need your boarding-card please?’
The American handed over the ticket, and then quickly trotted down the gangway. At the bottom he’d turned and scanned the smiling faces of the passengers along the ship’s rail. No sign of the Englishman, or his big companion.
Another officer had spoken to Rick in the terminal. ‘Is everything all right, monsieur?’
‘Yes. Yes. I had to get off. There’s an emergency at home. Excuse me.’ And with that, he’d quickly left the Departures Hall.
Outside, he’d concealed himself in the shadow of the building and waited until the Salena had cleared the dock-side. He’d watched as it gently edged-away from the quay, and then gather speed, as it sailed gracefully through the mouth of the harbour, and out into the Mediterranean.
Out on deck, Jack and Bogdan clung onto the hand-rail as they looked out over the dark Mediterranean. The moon was hidden behind heavy cloud and the cold night wind had risen. The sea-swell had increased considerably, and the big ship rolled and bounced against the oncoming waves. Both men felt extremely unwell, their moods reflected in the dismal night.
‘Oh, this is shit,’ said Jack, as he sucked in the chill air.
‘Ugghhh… answered the big Russian, as he sent the undigested remains of his steak dinner over the side.
The next few hours were spent wrapped in blankets, on the leeward side of the ship, trying to hold on to as much of their stomach linings as possible.
As the sun came up, the wind dropped, and the clouds cleared. The ship steadied itself and the sickening movement they’d endured for most of the night subsided. By 7am the sea-state had calmed, and the sun began to warm the morning, returning the Mediterranean to its usual benign state.
Jack and Bogdan climbed out of their cocoon of blankets and headed to the bow of the ship. As the Salena ploughed south towards the African coast they began, for the first time in six hours, to feel human again.
There were another ten hours until they docked in Algiers and Mathew still had to be told Washington had given them the slip. Not a call Jack was looking forward to making.