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Jock crossed the cabin to a bookcase that lined one wall. He pulled on one of the books and a section of books swung away. Behind it was a drinks cabinet containing an impressive array of bottles, most containing spirits of some description.
‘The previous owners of the ship were temperance’. He explained. ‘So I had the chippy knock this together for me so that I wouldn't upset them if they called unexpectedly. Not that it matters now. Luckily, Joe likes a drink with the best of us. What’s your poison’?
‘A single malt if you have one would be fine’.
Jock poured two hefty measures into expensive crystal whisky glasses. Opening the bottom of the cabinet, he revealed a compact fridge unit. ‘Anything with it’?
‘No thank you’. Liam said in a horrified tone. ‘I've no wish to ruin one of the best whiskies to never come out of Scotland’.
Jock roared with laughter. ‘I can see that you're no ordinary sasanach. You've found out that we keep all our best brews north of the border.
He handed Liam his drink. ‘Slante’, he toasted.
‘To calm seas and a successful conclusion’, Liam returned the toast.
After they had another large whisky Jock rose to his feet.
‘Time for you to meet a few people’, he announced. ‘I think the chief engineer is still on board, playing with his beloved engine’.
Liam grinned. ‘I suppose he is another Scot, at least they are in all the movies I've seen’.
‘Wrong this time. He’s Welsh actually, name of Morgan. I suppose he must have a first name, but at the moment, it escapes me. Everybody calls him Morgan. It would not surprise me if he wasn't descended from the infamous pirate of the same name’.
They went up on deck. One of the crew was sitting splicing a rope. The Captain asked him if he had seen the chief.
‘He's just gone down to the engine room’. The man replied.
‘This way’, Jock indicated. As they got to the engine room door, Jock took two pairs of ear defenders of a shelf by the door.
‘You should wear these, the noise can be pretty horrendous’. Putting actions to words, he put his on. Liam followed suit. Jock opened the door. The noise level was not as bad as Liam had expected.
A near vertical ladder led them down to the engine room deck. The sound of hammering was coming from the far end of the engine room.
Jock turned to Liam. Be careful of what you say if the chief has one of his hangovers. He can be a mite sensitive, if not to say downright mean. Liam followed the skipper along a catwalk that ran the length of the great diesel engine that drove the ship.
Ahead he could see a giant of a man working at a steel bench. He appeared to be shaping a piece of metal with a large hammer.
The chief looked up, scowled at them, and carried on with his metal work. Jock put his hand on the engineer’s shoulder.
‘Put your hammer away, and get your manners out for Christ's sake’, he yelled over the noise. The chief threw the hammer onto the workbench, turned, and looked down on them.
Liam looked up and realised just how big this man was. At a rough guess, he figured him to be about seventeen stone and six feet seven or eight. He had a full beard with moustache, and over-long black curly hair. A sight to make anyone stare. Morgan turned to Liam.
‘And who might you be my little man’? He asked in a surprisingly soft Welsh accent, while regarding Liam through a pair of the deepest blue eyes he had ever seen.
Jock started to make the introductions.
‘Just a minute’, Liam held up his hand stopping him. ‘Mr Morgan asked me; so if you don't mind Captain, I'll introduce myself. The name is Liam Casey, and I am head of security on board this ship. My friends call me Liam, what you want to call me, is entirely up to you’.
The unspoken challenge hung in the air. Morgan regarded Liam with a slightly amused look. The tension mounted. Jock looked at the pair of them, standing like boxers waiting for the bell.
Suddenly Morgan thrust out an oversized hand. ‘Welcome aboard, Liam Bach, I like your style’.
Liam offered a silent prayer to which ever saint looks after fools and idiots, and took the proffered hand in an unexpectedly gentle handshake.
‘Great to be here’, he said.
‘If you two have finished getting acquainted, shall we go to my cabin for a drink, that's if you want to’? Jock inquired.
‘Lead on McDuff, we are behind you all the way’, laughed the chief.
Three hours and much whisky later, they decided to go ashore, and show Liam some of the finer sights on the dock road. They never made it past the first public house.
As the trio walked through the door into the saloon bar, a noisy crowd from a corner of the bar room greeted them.
‘Hey Skipper’, one of the group called out. ‘There's room over here’.
Jock waved a hand, and proceeded to make his way over to them. As he passed one of the tables, a man stood up, obviously very drunk. He collided with the captain, spilling his drink.
‘Clumsy bastard’. He snarled at Jock. The captain ignored him and carried on to the table. The drunk lurched after him. Intent on smashing his glass against Jocks head. Liam reached forward and gripped the man by the shoulder, spun him around, and delivered a punch right to the point of the jaw. The drunk collapsed as if pole-axed.
One of the drunk's friends went for Liam's back. Morgan reached over, took hold of the second man's coat-front picking him bodily off the floor, and threw him across the tables, scattering drinks, and drinkers in the process.
It was all over in a moment, the crew gave a round of applause, and fell about laughing.
Jock smiled. ‘I suppose the next round must be on me’, he said. 'So it's drinks all round'.
That night, Liam drank far more than he was used too. The following morning he awoke with a banging headache, and hardly any recollection of the previous night's happenings.
He slowly opened an eye, trying to figure out where he was. I'm on the ship, he thought, not bad for a start. He became aware of a gentle snoring sound. Carefully turning his head, to avoid it falling off, he looked across at his day bed.
Lying there, covered only by a sheet from the knees down, was a young lady.
‘Who the hell is that’, he murmured. And how on earth did she get in here?
Very carefully he made his way over to her, and gently pulled the sheet up to her chin, though not before feasting his eyes on her very well proportioned figure.
She stirred and gave a little sigh. Then opened her eyes and smiled up at him.
‘Good morning’, she said, in a sleep filled husky voice. Liam's heart did a somersault.
‘I hope you enjoyed last night as much as I did’. She said with a smile, revealing small even white teeth. Liam was total at a loss. He could not remember ever seeing her before.
‘Er’, he began. ‘I'm afraid I don't recall very much about last night’, he confessed.
She looked momentarily puzzled, then laughed.
‘I suppose I should feel hurt, but you were pretty far gone when I picked you up’.
‘You picked me up’? Liam exclaimed.
‘I certainly did, and what is more, I half carried you back to the ship. I’m glad to say it was definitely worth it’. She said with an angelic smile.
‘What a performer’.
Liam winced. To think he had made love to this gorgeous female, and could not remember a thing about it.
‘I can only apologise, for not remembering, but I am glad that I made you happy’, he grinned.
‘It looks as though you are ready to start again’, the vision remarked.
Liam looked down; he was, as are most men are first thing in the morning, standing to attention.
‘Shit’, he yelled. He grabbed for his shorts. Then proceeded to hop on one leg as he struggled into them, desperately trying to hide his very rampant flesh.
The girl hooted with laughter at his performance.
‘Oh it does seem such a shame to waste it’ she laughed. ‘But I will have to go. I do have a lot of work to do’.
She got out of bed and walked quite unashamedly to the shower, then switched it on.
‘If you promise to behave like a gentleman, you can share the shower, and wash my back if you like’, she shouted over the noise of the running water.
Liam gave up the struggle with his rebellious shorts and threw them at the laundry basket.
‘OK, I'll wash your back, but I'm not promising anything else’. He stepped under the shower.
She passed him the soap. ‘Right between my shoulder blades, if you don't mind’, She said with a grin.
Liam started to do as asked. Then he stopped.
‘This is a dream I'm having isn't it’? He asked, half to himself.
‘Last night was dreamy, but it definitely isn't a dream, and that thing poking into me is decidedly flesh and blood’, she said, giving the offending member a playful slap.
‘Ouch’! He yelled. ‘That hurts’.
‘It's a wonder it didn't fall off the way you used it last night, I’ve never experienced anything like it before.
Liam ran his soap-lathered hands gently down her body.
‘This is wonderful, and I know it is probably a little late to ask, but just who the hell are you’?
I did introduce myself last night but you have no doubt forgotten, I’m Angela, and I know that your Liam, and that your head of security on board this ship’. She stopped speaking and proceeded to shampoo her hair. Liam stood speechless.
After Angela had rinsed her long auburn hair, she turned to face Liam.
‘I think I'd better do something with our friend here, otherwise you will have difficulty in dressing’.
Suiting actions to words, she took him in hand. Liam thought that he had died and gone to heaven.
As they were dressing, Liam suddenly realised that it could be awkward getting this young lady off the ship without anyone seeing her. He did not know the rules about women on board, but assumed that there would be one. Liam quietly went to the door, and opened it slightly, looking up and down the passageway checking if the coast was clear.
‘Why are you acting like a spy in some cheap movie’? She asked, coming up behind him.
‘I have to smuggle you ashore without being seen. After all, I am supposed to be in charge of security, and I have a strange woman in my cabin. It might not go down to well if I'm caught. Quick, let's go now, there seems to be no one about’.
‘If you insist’, she replied.
Liam led the way down the passage. He heard a door open behind him. Mary mother, we'll been seen, he whispered, turning to hurry her along. Angela had disappeared. What the hell, Liam yelped. A cabin door behind him opened. Angela stood in the doorway, a huge grin on her lovely face. She was pointing to a nameplate fixed to the door. It read. A Hanson, First Officer.
Liam made his way to the mess in search of a desperately needed cup of coffee and a bucket of Alka-Seltzer.
It was still early so he hoped that the mess would be empty. He was disappointed. A man was sitting eating breakfast. Liam nodded to the diner. ‘Good morning’, he said.
The man looked up and smiled, returning the greeting. ‘Liam, isn't it? I doubt that you remember me, you were a little worse for wear last night when we were introduced’.
Liam tried to remember, the face was vaguely familiar, but he could not put a name to it.
‘Come and sit here’. The man invited, motioning to a seat opposite him.
‘By the way, just to refresh your memory, the name is Ken Johnson, I'm the radio officer aboard this tub’. They shook hands. Liam walked over to the side counter, poured himself a coffee from the urn then sat down.
‘It was quite a night, wasn't it’? Ken remarked. Liam grinned ruefully.
‘I don’t seem to remember very much about it. I was flying pretty high when we arrived at that pub, whatever it was called’.
‘It was the Atlantic’. Ken supplied the answer. ‘In fact, I arrived late. You had already made an impression by flooring one of the so-called hard men, who drink there. The chief put the finishing touch to the fight, so I don't think we will have any trouble from that quarter again’.
Liam took a sip of his coffee. ‘It must have been quite a night. I just wish that I could remember more of it, but most of it is a blank’.
Ken looked questioningly at him. ‘Hope it wasn't a blank later’. He said with a grin.
Liam felt a little uncomfortable. ‘I'm afraid it was. I don't remember anything until I woke up this morning’. He said with a grimace.
‘That's a shame. From what I heard the First officer had to carry you back here, and she certainly hasn't done that before. She really seemed to take a shine to you. In fact, the lads were taking bets on whether you would be the first to get inside her pants. They call her the Ice Maiden; behind her back’.
Liam thought it time to change the subject.
‘I think I could stand a little breakfast now. Can you point me in the direction of the kitchen’? Ken laughed. 'It's called the galley on board ship, and if you hang on a few minutes cookie will be on duty, then you won't have to cook your own. You really don't seem to be in a fit state to be playing with hot pans'.
The cook arrived as Ken was speaking. Ken introduced him,
'Liam Casey meet Dave Smith, one of the best chefs afloat, and probably one of the worst tempered as well', Ken said with a grin. They shook hands.
Liam ordered a full breakfast’. The cook just grunted something unintelligible and disappeared into his galley.
‘That's cookie’. Ken said as he stood and stretched. ‘His usual pleasant self in the mornings. Don't take it personal, he gets more human as the day progresses. We forgive him, because as I said, he is one if the best chefs afloat, and when you’re at sea for any length of time, good food becomes important. Anyway, I must be off. See you later. Drop into my domain and I'll show you how things operate’.
To Liam's amazement, he found that he was ravenous. He had soon demolished a very large breakfast served up by the cook. After two more cups of excellent coffee, and a couple of cigarettes, he felt fit to face the world once more. He decided it was time to take a tour of the ship and introduce himself.
The sun was shining when he reached the main deck. He felt a thrill of excitement to be on board, and starting, as he saw it, a great adventure.
Apart from one seaman, who was busy painting a bulkhead, there appeared to be no one else around.
Passing down the starboard side, he heard music coming from an open porthole. Further along was a door, he entered, going in search of the music.
There he found another door, it was open slightly, and it bore the legend, “RADIO ROOM”. He knocked.
'Come in', called a voice that he recognised as Ken's. Liam entered. Ken looked up from his chair in front of a bank of radio equipment.
'Hi', Ken greeted him. ‘To further your education, if a door is partially open on this ship, it means that you can knock and go in. If it's closed, it means that the occupant does not want to be disturbed, unless of course it's an emergency, anyway, that’s enough instruction for today, take a seat'. Liam sat.
I certainly have a lot to learn about ships, he said. ‘Don't worry, you will soon get the hang of it’. Ken reassured him. We like to do things a bit differently, just to confuse the landlubber’s’.
Liam decided that he liked Ken, and would probably become good friends.
‘There didn't seem to be many people about when I took a stroll around the deck. Liam remarked.
‘Not surprising’, Ken explained. ‘Most of the work is finished, so the crew will have gone into town for some last minute shopping, and of course a few drinks. I think the chief is down below doing a check on the generators. We will soon be coming off shore power so they have to be right’.
Liam looked questioningly at him. ‘Shore power?’
‘Yes while we are docked, we can use electricity, water and telephone, all supplied from the shore-side outlet's, it saves us running our own generators. Apart from the wear and tear on our equipment, it's a lot quieter, but from next week, we will be on our own. The skipper likes to find out what troubles we have, if any'.
They spent the next hour chatting, Ken explaining how the communication system worked.
‘Now you know nearly as much as I do’, he said.
‘I doubt that very much, but I think I could use it in an emergency.
A loud speaker suddenly came to life outside the room. ‘Liam Casey to the skippers cabin please’.
‘Your body's wanted. That will be Joe McKay, we were expecting him to show today. Probably want's to welcome you aboard; and see if you’re sober.
Liam made his way to the skippers cabin. Joe McKay was standing in the doorway.
‘Glad you were still on board’, he said, thrusting out his hand.
‘Actually I was in the radio room with Ken Johnson, he was explaining how it all works, he seems a great guy’.
‘One of the best, he's been with the company quite a few years now’, Joe replied.
‘Come on in and sit down, there are a number of things that I'd like to discuss with you’. When they were sat at the table with a couple of drinks, Joe began.
‘The grapevine tells me that you have already started your security work, as of last night. I must thank you for that. The skipper and I go a long way back, and I have been very upset had he been injured, so I thank you for taking care of him’. Liam shrugged his shoulders.
‘Just a case of being in the right place at the right time. In fact it was the chief who finished it’.
‘Well keep up the good work and I will be happy’.
Joe opened his briefcase. Handing Liam a sheet of paper, he became all business.
‘This list of names, is the short list of the people that we have interviewed regarding your security staff. I'd like you to go through them, and select those that you think suitable. As I told you at your interview, you have the final say in who you want. We figure you will need about three apart from yourself. However, I will leave the amount to you. Remember though, that you have a budget to work within, so it is up to you to keep costs down’.
Joe glanced at the sheet again.
‘That was item number one. Number two. I want you over in Belgium as soon as possible, to buy what weaponry that you think we will need.
Item three, is that you have three weeks in which to do everything. I am sorry to rush you, but we have had word that our plans have somehow been leaked, and the competition are trying to get a head start. Therefore, you will see the need to move fast’. Liam looked slightly stunned.
‘May I ask who is the competition’?
Joe held up his hand.
‘For the moment, you do not need to know, and I have not the time to go into it. I think for the present it would be better if you got straight onto your jobs and got them sorted. Afterwards, when we have the time to spare I will give you chapter and verse of the whole shooting match’.
Joe stood and offered Liam his hand. ‘I must be on my way. I have a million things to arrange, so I will see you when you return from Belgium’. Liam shook hands. ‘Thanks for your confidence in me’, he said.
Liam spent the next two days interviewing his prospective staff. He finally decided on only one from Joe's short list. An ex Royal Marine, who according to his CV was a very proficient boat handler, and small arms expert.
The other two were good friends of Liam's. Neither had been in the forces, but they had both worked as mercenaries for a few years.
Jimmy Fernandez, Portuguese Father, English mother, and Declan O'Bryan, a not so gentle giant of a man, originally from the hills of Conamara.
They were both very tough customers, Liam knew that he could rely on them one hundred percent.
After Liam had contacted his mercenary friends and arranged for them to meet him on the ship in six days time, he booked a flight to Belgium.
Armed with a letter of credit drawn on a Swiss bank, and an end user certificate, he had little trouble in obtaining the weapons he needed. He arranged for the delivery of them to the vessel in Liverpool, as soon as possible.
The Belgium arms dealer proved to be very efficient indeed, even to the extent of arranging the necessary customs clearance at both ends.
Liam thought about having a night out on the town, after all Belgium can be an interesting place if you know where to go, but he realised that all he wanted to do was get back to the ship. He also realised that the thought of seeing Angela again was in the forefront of his mind.
He wasted no time in packing his overnight bag and heading for the airport. It was an uneventful flight and he was back in the UK that same afternoon.
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