Read Online Traitor by Duncan Falconer - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Duncan Falconer
Tags: Fiction, Action & Adventure
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money or we destroy the platform. And if anyone tries to attack us we’ll kill everyone on board.’
The manager was unbalanced by Deacon’s casual manner. ‘How much money?’
‘A small percentage of the platform’s value plus loss of productivity if it met with a disaster. Two billion dollars, US. Pretty cheap, really.’
The GM cleared his throat. ‘They want two billion dollars,’ he said into the phone.
‘That’s enough,’ Deacon said. ‘You can put the phone down now. We can get into the details with them later. They’ve got enough to be getting on with for the time being.’
The manager hesitated, wanting to say something that might be of use to the crisis-management team. But he could not, partly because of the possible repercussions and also because he could not think of anything to say anyway. It was all so surreal, all so quick. He placed the phone’s headset back into its cradle.
‘Good. That’s that part over. Now for the next step. All outside communications sources will come under my control. I’ll allow one engineer at a time in here to keep the place running. Same goes for engineering. What are you pumping right now?’
‘We’re at around sixty-three per cent of capacity,’ the GM replied.
‘You’ll maintain everything as normal. You,’ he said to the secur - ity supervisor. ‘Turn off all your CCTV now. Go.’
The security supervisor walked quickly through the cluttered room to his office and turned off the cameras.
‘Unplug the hard drive and bring it here,’ Deacon ordered.
The officer carried the small heavy box through the room and held it out to Deacon, who took it.
‘You try to turn on any of the cameras, I’ll find out about it and you’ll end up going for a swim without a life jacket. Understood?’
The security officer nodded.
‘I like to run a pretty loose ship,’ Deacon said, facing the GM. ‘But don’t get carried away with it. This is how it will play. As we speak, radio-controlled explosive devices are being placed at key points around the platform. If anyone makes any attempt to interfere with my operation, the charges will be detonated. If any of my men are attacked, the charges will be detonated. In a little while, when I tell you, you’ll address your personnel over the platform intercom. You’ll tell them exactly what’s going on. You’ll also make it absolutely clear that there are to be no heroics. Tell them the consequences as I’ve laid them out to you.’ Deacon headed back to the entrance, pausing to look at the manager. ‘Don’t be fooled by my easygoing manner, Mr Andrews. I’m not the mastermind of this operation. But the people who hired me knew what they were doing. How many men do you currently have on this platform?’
The GM took a moment to think about it. ‘A hundred and sixty-five,’ he replied looking at the security officer for confirmation.
‘That’s less than the number of men I’ve personally killed in the last six years . . . Now. Everyone sit down and don’t do anything silly or he’ll shoot you,’ Deacon said, indicating the large Bulgarian. The man looked up to the task.
A clatter of gunfire came from outside. A ripple of panic shot through the platform workers in the room. The Bulgarian, himself unsure for a second, levelled his weapon towards them.
Deacon stepped outside and onto the deck to see a man lying face down near the railings. He looked over at the Lebanese thug and his smoking weapon. ‘What did you do that for?’ Deacon asked calmly.
‘He surprised me.’
Deacon crouched by the casualty to feel for a pulse at the man’s neck. There was none. Blood dripped from the torso through the deck grilles onto the level below.
‘You’re paid to ’andle surprises,’ Deacon said. ‘I’m gonna deduct a hundred grand from your money. You step out of line again and all you’ll end up with is your deposit. You got that?’
The Lebanese gritted his teeth but knew better than to argue. He
The manager was unbalanced by Deacon’s casual manner. ‘How much money?’
‘A small percentage of the platform’s value plus loss of productivity if it met with a disaster. Two billion dollars, US. Pretty cheap, really.’
The GM cleared his throat. ‘They want two billion dollars,’ he said into the phone.
‘That’s enough,’ Deacon said. ‘You can put the phone down now. We can get into the details with them later. They’ve got enough to be getting on with for the time being.’
The manager hesitated, wanting to say something that might be of use to the crisis-management team. But he could not, partly because of the possible repercussions and also because he could not think of anything to say anyway. It was all so surreal, all so quick. He placed the phone’s headset back into its cradle.
‘Good. That’s that part over. Now for the next step. All outside communications sources will come under my control. I’ll allow one engineer at a time in here to keep the place running. Same goes for engineering. What are you pumping right now?’
‘We’re at around sixty-three per cent of capacity,’ the GM replied.
‘You’ll maintain everything as normal. You,’ he said to the secur - ity supervisor. ‘Turn off all your CCTV now. Go.’
The security supervisor walked quickly through the cluttered room to his office and turned off the cameras.
‘Unplug the hard drive and bring it here,’ Deacon ordered.
The officer carried the small heavy box through the room and held it out to Deacon, who took it.
‘You try to turn on any of the cameras, I’ll find out about it and you’ll end up going for a swim without a life jacket. Understood?’
The security officer nodded.
‘I like to run a pretty loose ship,’ Deacon said, facing the GM. ‘But don’t get carried away with it. This is how it will play. As we speak, radio-controlled explosive devices are being placed at key points around the platform. If anyone makes any attempt to interfere with my operation, the charges will be detonated. If any of my men are attacked, the charges will be detonated. In a little while, when I tell you, you’ll address your personnel over the platform intercom. You’ll tell them exactly what’s going on. You’ll also make it absolutely clear that there are to be no heroics. Tell them the consequences as I’ve laid them out to you.’ Deacon headed back to the entrance, pausing to look at the manager. ‘Don’t be fooled by my easygoing manner, Mr Andrews. I’m not the mastermind of this operation. But the people who hired me knew what they were doing. How many men do you currently have on this platform?’
The GM took a moment to think about it. ‘A hundred and sixty-five,’ he replied looking at the security officer for confirmation.
‘That’s less than the number of men I’ve personally killed in the last six years . . . Now. Everyone sit down and don’t do anything silly or he’ll shoot you,’ Deacon said, indicating the large Bulgarian. The man looked up to the task.
A clatter of gunfire came from outside. A ripple of panic shot through the platform workers in the room. The Bulgarian, himself unsure for a second, levelled his weapon towards them.
Deacon stepped outside and onto the deck to see a man lying face down near the railings. He looked over at the Lebanese thug and his smoking weapon. ‘What did you do that for?’ Deacon asked calmly.
‘He surprised me.’
Deacon crouched by the casualty to feel for a pulse at the man’s neck. There was none. Blood dripped from the torso through the deck grilles onto the level below.
‘You’re paid to ’andle surprises,’ Deacon said. ‘I’m gonna deduct a hundred grand from your money. You step out of line again and all you’ll end up with is your deposit. You got that?’
The Lebanese gritted his teeth but knew better than to argue. He
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