‘AKs are noisy,’ said Shepherd. ‘We can make suppressors for the shorts but there’s nothing you can do to quieten a Kalashnikov.’
‘We don’t have to fire them. Just the look of an AK tends to make people do as they’re told.’
‘The voice of experience?’
Harper laughed. ‘What can I say?’
‘It seems like overkill,’ said Shepherd. ‘I assume we’re doing this up close and personal. If we were planning a drive-by the AK would be the weapon of choice, but we’re not.’
‘Four men, two guns, doesn’t seem right, that’s all.’
‘There’s concealment, too. Even with the folding stock, the AK-47 is a big weapon. You could tuck it under an overcoat but even so it’s bulky.’
‘Might be useful if armed cops show up.’
Shepherd’s eyes narrowed. ‘Please tell me you’re joking.’
Harper leaned over and slapped him on the shoulder. ‘Of course I am, you daft sod.’
‘Because we’re not getting into a shoot-out with cops.’ He pointed a finger at Harper. ‘Any sign of cops and we run like the wind. Same with collateral damage – there isn’t to be any. We don’t hurt his family, we don’t hurt passers-by, and we certainly don’t hurt cops. I think we should pick him up, in a vehicle, and take him somewhere quiet. And we have to think about the body.’
‘We should bury him with a pig, or at least a pork chop in his mouth,’ said Harper.
‘Behave, Lex. We need to bury it somewhere where it’ll never be found.’
‘Sounds like a plan,’ said Harper.
‘I’m serious, Lex.’
‘I know you are, mate. And I’m with you one hundred per cent. But let me make a suggestion. The two Russian shorts are perfect for the job. Like you said, they’ll muddy the waters. But we need four guns. I’ll pick up two more when I buy the ammo.’
‘They mustn’t be traceable.’
‘They won’t be. I know a gangbanger south of the river who does them on sale or return.’
‘That’ll work. But make sure you don’t get stitched up.’
‘I trust these guys, it’ll be fine. Do you have a preference?’
‘Go for revolvers, that way we’re not picking up cartridges.’
‘Consider it done.’ He drained his glass, stood up and patted Shepherd on the shoulder. ‘I’ll give you a call when it’s done.’
Shepherd looked up at him. ‘How are you fixed for cash?’
Harper chuckled. ‘You offering me a handout?’
‘You’ve got a thing about ID so I’m assuming you don’t use ATMs, or banks.’
‘I’ve got a few internet bank accounts but you’re right, most ATMs these days have cameras. I use safety deposit boxes. And hawala.’
‘Are you serious?’
‘About the safety deposit boxes? Sure. I’ve got three in London, packed with cash, gold and a passport or two.’ He took his pack of cigarettes out and slipped one in his mouth.
‘You know what I mean. Hawala.’
Harper tilted his head and lit the cigarette. He blew smoke before answering. ‘You don’t have to be a Muslim to use hawala,’ he said. ‘Plenty of places in Thailand that’ll take my cash,’ he said. ‘I’ve got a mate who dropped off a million baht with a guy in Pattaya yesterday. Today I can pick it up in sterling at any one of half a dozen places close to my hotel in Bayswater. Don’t even have to use ID if I don’t want to.’
‘How does that work?’
‘It’s buyer’s choice,’ said Harper. ‘If you want to use a driving licence or a passport as an ID to collect, that’s OK. But you can use a number, too. Produce the number, get the money. No questions asked.’
‘And you’ve never been ripped off?’
‘Other than the commission charge, nope. The hawala system is more reliable than the banking system. Quicker, too.’ He grinned. ‘So I’ve no problems with money, thanks for asking. And the guns and ammo, they’re on me.’
Shepherd’s mobile rang and he picked it up. It was Button. ‘I’ve got to take this,’ he said, and hurried over to the kitchen.
‘Sorry to bother you so late but I’ve just heard back about your friend,’ she said. ‘Interesting chap, this McIntyre.’ Shepherd could tell from her tone that there was more to come, so he didn’t say anything. ‘You didn’t mention his drinking,’ said Button eventually.
‘Everyone drinks,’ said Shepherd.
‘But not everyone gets into fights with civilians in pubs,’ said Button.
‘Hereford’s funny like that,’ said Shepherd. ‘The town’s proud of its association with the SAS, but you get more than your fair share of local hard men trying to prove how hard they are. It happened to all of us at some point – you’re having a quiet drink and some idiot on steroids will ask you if you’re SAS and why you’re not wearing your balaclava and did you come in through the window and all that nonsense, and you know it’s leading up to the “so how hard are you?” question and then fists start flying.’
‘And how do you handle that?’
‘I never got to that stage,’ said Shepherd. ‘I always used to say I sold life insurance and if that didn’t work I’d just walk away.’
‘Pity that Mr McIntyre didn’t use the same technique,’ said Button. ‘He’s been in a few scrapes, I see.’
‘He’s a highly trained soldier who’s seen action in some of the world’s most dangerous places,’ said Shepherd. ‘Iraq, Afghanistan, Sierra Leone. You’ve got to expect him to blow off a little steam every now and again.’
‘And you said he was in the security business?’ Shepherd winced in anticipation of what he knew was coming. ‘You failed to mention that he was a security guard and that he spends most of his time sitting at a reception desk in an office building in Reading.’
‘He’s working. A job’s a job.’
‘Look, I get that he’s a friend, and I get that you served together in the SAS. But are you absolutely sure he’s up for close personal protection with a man like Peter Grechko?’
‘I’m sure,’ said Shepherd, but even as he said the words there was a nagging doubt at the back of his mind and he remembered the way that McIntyre’s hand had shaken as he’d poured whisky in his miserable little room.
‘He’s to stay off the booze,’ said Button.
‘He knows that.’
‘And he’s to keep quiet about his SAS background, I don’t want him getting all competitive with Grechko’s people.’
‘No problem.’
‘And I need you to keep a close eye on him. He’s your responsibility.’
‘He’ll do just fine. And I’ll feel happier with him around. I can rely on Jock one hundred per cent, which is something I can’t say for Grechko’s security team.’
‘What’s the problem?’ asked Button.
‘They’re clearly not happy about having an outsider telling them what to do,’ he said. ‘Let’s just say that if Grechko is ever in the firing line, I’ll be the one thrown in front of the bullet.’
Button laughed. ‘Well, make sure you’re wearing a vest,’ she said. ‘OK, I’ll go with you on this. He’s worked undercover before?’
‘We all do undercover scenarios during selection,’ said Shepherd. ‘And he’s been on undercover ops.’
‘Then I’ll put together a legend and email it to you,’ she said. ‘We’ll have him down as a security expert with a military background and I’ll tell Grechko that we’ve used him before and that he’s there as a back-up.’
‘As soon as you’ve done that, I’ll take him over to the house,’ said Shepherd. ‘He can bunk down with Grechko’s team. He was one of the SAS’s linguists and he speaks reasonable Russian so that’ll be useful.’