The Shadow Project. Scott Mariani

clutching the pistol pointed at my head,’ Steiner said coolly. ‘This thug began to scream “Where are the Kammler documents?” At that point, one of his fellow kidnappers urged him to keep quiet and let me go, and they retreated to their vehicle.’

      ‘Sounds fair enough to me,’ Neville said from across the table.

      Ben hesitated for a moment. ‘Another question, Herr Steiner. This all has to do with these Kammler documents, correct?’

      Steiner replied with a slow nod and a narrowing of the eyes.

      ‘And these people believe the documents contain certain proof, but you’re saying that’s a fallacy. That there’s no such proof in them at all.’

      Steiner looked uncomfortable. ‘Correct.’

      ‘Then why don’t you just go public with them? Put them on display in one of the many museums that would be delighted to have them, and show the world what they really say? If your theory is right, you’d be destroying the kidnappers’ whole incentive to get hold of them.’

      Steiner stared at him with a look that said: ‘Aren’t you asking questions above your pay grade?’

      Dorenkamp interjected. ‘An interesting point, Major. But not directly pertinent to the issue at hand.’

      Ben shrugged. ‘You’re wrong,’ he wanted to say. But he stayed quiet, and wished he’d said nothing at all. It struck him as ironic that, if he pressed the point, he risked ruining Shannon’s contract altogether by solving the problem too quickly.

      ‘Now,’ Steiner said. ‘To other matters.’ He turned to Dorenkamp with a barely perceptible gesture of his hand, and the PA quickly got up and left the room. There was silence around the table as Steiner’s gaze swept slowly around from man to man. Ben watched him. Across the table, he saw Neville looking down at his hands as Steiner’s eyes fixed on him.

      After a moment Dorenkamp returned. With him were two men in dark suits, each carrying a shiny aluminium flight-case about two feet long. Dorenkamp directed the men over to the table. They carefully laid the cases on its shiny surface, then turned without a word and left the room. The PA flipped open the metal catches on each case, then lifted each lid in turn and stepped back.

      Steiner’s gaze settled on Ben. ‘Please,’ he said, motioning to him. Ben got up from his seat and walked over to the open cases and looked down at what was inside them. He looked, blinked, looked again.

      ‘What are these?’ he asked Steiner. His consternation must have showed in his voice, because he caught an edgy look from Dorenkamp, as if to say ‘Don’t question him like that.’

      ‘These are the items I have provided for you to use in your protective role,’ Steiner said.

       Chapter Fifteen

      Ben looked back at the contents of the cases. Each box had a cavity cut out of its foam lining, and inset into each recess was a weapon, brand new and shining under the lights.

      ‘Naturally, what you see is only a sample,’ Steiner said with an air of indifference. ‘Each team member will be issued his own.’

      Ben didn’t reply. He reached down and picked one up. ‘You are not familiar with this type of weapon?’ Steiner asked.

      Ben turned the gun over in his hands. It was a double-barrelled device, with bores large enough to accommodate a wine bottle. It was bulky and clumsy in his hands. He knew what it was, and what it was for. A Flash-Ball rubber bullet gun, what riot and raid teams called a ‘non-lethal option’. At close to medium range its hard rubber projectile could deliver a blow roughly equivalent to a punch from a champion boxer. Enough kinetic force to knock a large human being to the floor and incapacitate them without doing any serious damage. Ben could think of a lot of situations where such a weapon would be extremely useful. Home defence in those countries that allowed it, to take down an intruder without having to kill them. Bounty hunters, who needed to soften a tough target and bring them in alive. In those situations, fine. Ideal.

      But for the purposes of close protection they were worse than useless.

      He put the weapon back in the box and turned to Steiner. ‘No chance,’ he said.

      Steiner stared at him again. ‘I beg your pardon?’

      ‘I said no chance,’ Ben repeated. ‘These—’ He was going to say ‘Mickey Mouse pieces of shit’, but then thought better of it. ‘These weapons are completely unsuitable for our purposes. They’re heavy and clumsy and impossible to conceal, and they’re going to compromise our ability to protect you. They put us at a serious disadvantage in the event of a further kidnap attempt.’

      Steiner just stared at him coldly. Dorenkamp was pale and wide-eyed. Across the table, Pete Neville was sitting back in his chair with his arms folded, glaring at him angrily.

      ‘In short, Ben said, ’they’re useless. I recommend you ditch them and get something more appropriate.’

      ‘And what exactly is it that you would recommend, Major?’ Steiner asked curtly.

      ‘In my experience, the Heckler & Koch MP5 machine carbine is a good companion to compact, concealable semiautomatic pistols such as the 9mm Glock, Browning or SIG,’ Ben said. ‘Whatever works.’ He pointed at the Flash-Balls in the cases. ‘These won’t.’

      Steiner’s lips tightened. ‘No firearms. That is a contractual condition of your employment. I want you to protect me, but there must be no loss of life. I will neither tolerate bloodshed nor authorise the use of lethal force.’

      Ben could see he was resolute. ‘Herr Steiner, these people who are after you aren’t playing. They’re evidently armed and serious.’ He paused, remembering what Dorenkamp had told him about Steiner’s anti-gun stance. ‘I understand your principles, and I admire them. It’s laudable that you want to avoid any kind of violence. Believe me, so do I. That’s what I’m here for. And the best way to avoid conflict is to ensure that we’re as well equipped as, or better equipped than, your enemies.’ Steiner shook his head.

      ‘Then I’d urge you to think about your family. Putting yourself at risk is one thing, but you also have the emotional interests of your wife and nephew to consider. I’ve seen too many families torn apart by kidnapping.’

      Steiner’s face became even harder. ‘We are getting nowhere. Your proposal is out of the question.’ He threw a look at Dorenkamp.

      ‘The, ah, equipment requirements had already been discussed with Captain Shannon,’ Dorenkamp said weakly. ‘I’m surprised you weren’t notified of that.’

      No, Ben thought. I damn well wasn’t. He sighed, knowing that he had no choice but to back down. In normal circumstances, in sane circumstances, if this had been his contract, being forced to use such inappropriate equipment would have been a deal-breaker. He would have found it unacceptable to risk the safety not only of his principal, but of the whole team. And any team leader who agreed to this kind of a deal was a cowboy. Shannon was clearly just agreeing to anything to get his hands on the money.

      But Ben wasn’t here to make Shannon look incompetent in front of his employers. He was here to make reparations, not trouble. It was intolerable, but that was the way it was.

      He took a deep breath before replying, ‘I apologise. You’re quite right. I was notified. It must have slipped my mind. We’ll make do with the items you’ve supplied.’

      Steiner eyed him coolly. ‘Good. Let us move on to the subject of your first assignment. I am due to attend an extremely important meeting at a conference centre outside Lausanne early this afternoon. My presence there is vital, and I have no intention of letting a gang of Nazis prevent me from carrying on my business.’

      Ben listened and nodded. It wasn’t a long drive to Lausanne.