Shepherd knew he had only seconds to react and that every decision he made was crucial. There were three men in the cabin and another on the bridge. He’d seen one gun and hopefully that was now on a table but that didn’t mean there weren’t more on the boat.
He lay where he was and pulled down the zipper of his bomber jacket with his left hand while he groped inside with his right. His fingers were wet with Klaus’s blood but the Glock had a non-slip grip. There was no safety to worry about either, and there was already a cartridge in the chamber.
Klaus was groaning, his hands clasped over his face, blood trickling down through his fingers.
Still lying on his back, Shepherd grabbed the Glock and pulled it from its holster. All he could see was Klaus, rocking back on his heels and wailing like a banshee. He pulled his leg back, put his foot in the centre of Klaus’s chest and kicked him hard. Klaus fell backwards.
Shepherd brought his left hand up to support his right wrist, his finger tightening on the trigger as he looked for a target.
He found Kettering in his sights, standing by the table, his eyes wide and confused. Kettering cursed and looked to his right. Shepherd realised what he was looking at: Klaus’s gun on the table.
‘Don’t move!’ shouted Shepherd, but Kettering was already reaching for the gun. ‘Freeze!’ Shepherd yelled.
Kettering grabbed the gun and began to swing it round. He said something but Shepherd couldn’t hear him above the sound of Klaus’s screams. Shepherd fired once, hitting Kettering six inches below his Adam’s apple. Kettering stiffened and the gun dropped from his fingers, clattering back on to the glass table.
Shepherd got to his feet, sweeping the cabin with his Glock.
Thompson was standing by the stairs leading up to the bridge. ‘Don’t shoot,’ he said.
‘Keep your hands where I can see them,’ said Shepherd. Kettering sank to his knees, blood gushing over his shirt, his mouth working soundlessly.
Thompson moved towards the table but Shepherd fired close to the man’s foot. ‘The next one goes into your chest,’ he said. Thompson straightened up and raised his hands.
‘Does the captain have a gun?’ Shepherd asked. Thompson shook his head. ‘If you’re lying I’ll shoot you first,’ said Shepherd.
Kettering fell forward and thudded face down on to the deck.
‘He doesn’t,’ said Thompson. ‘I swear.’
Shepherd gestured with the gun. ‘Up the stairs. Try anything, even look at me wrong, and I’ll put a bullet in you.’
Thompson went slowly up the stairs to the bridge. Shepherd stayed well back in case Thompson tried to kick out but Thompson just did as he was told. The captain smiled when he saw Thompson but his face fell when he saw Shepherd and the gun in his hand.
‘I need you to take us back to the marina,’ said Shepherd. ‘I don’t have time to mess about so if you fuck around I’ll shoot you in the leg. Do you understand me?’
The captain nodded and immediately started turning the boat to starboard.
‘Take us back to the jetty,’ said Shepherd.
‘I’m just looking after the boat,’ said the captain. ‘This is nothing to do with me.’
‘Just take us back. You can talk to the cops there,’ said Shepherd. He waved the gun at Thompson. ‘Back downstairs,’ he said.
He followed Thompson down the stairs into the cabin. ‘Down on your knees and put your hands behind your neck,’ he said. ‘While you’re at it, cross your ankles. See how you like it.’ Thompson obeyed sullenly.
Shepherd looked over at Sharpe. ‘Razor!’ he shouted.
Sharpe groaned.
‘Can you get up?’
Sharpe groaned again.
Shepherd kept the gun aimed at Thompson’s face as he fished his mobile out of his jacket. He tapped out Charlotte Button’s number with his thumb. The boat continued to make a sweeping turn to the right. Klaus stopped moaning. He crawled into a foetal ball and sobbed quietly. Shepherd knew that he’d done a lot of damage with his fingers and that Klaus would be losing at least one of his eyes.
The phone rang and Button answered. ‘Thank God,’ she said. ‘Are you okay?’
‘All good,’ he said. ‘One dead, two under control and one who’s going to need medical attention. We’re heading back to shore.’
‘There’s a police boat heading your way. You’re sure you’re okay?’
‘I’m fine,’ he said. He looked over at Sharpe, who was starting to come round, moving his head and moaning. ‘Razor’s going to have a sore head for a few days.’
‘Well done, Spider. I have to confess that my heart was in my mouth for a while there.’
‘I was worried myself,’ admitted Shepherd. ‘I’m just glad he didn’t go for a head shot. And tell Amar I owe him a drink. His vest was a lifesaver.’
He ended the call and went over to Sharpe, keeping his gun trained on Thompson. Sharpe struggled to sit up. He put his hand against his temple and it came away bloody. He groaned loudly and looked up at Shepherd. ‘Who am I?’ he said.
‘Are you serious?’ said Shepherd.
Sharpe grinned. ‘Had you going,’ he said, getting unsteadily to his feet. He looked down at Kettering. Blood was pooling around him on the polished wooden decking. ‘Was it him that hit me?’
Shepherd gestured at Thompson. ‘It was him.’
Klaus sobbed and his whole body shuddered.
‘What’s his problem?’ asked Sharpe. ‘Did you shoot him?’
‘Clawed his eyes out,’ said Shepherd. ‘He started it.’
Sharpe walked slowly to the galley, picked up a tea towel and pressed it against his wound. He looked out of a window and pointed. ‘There’s a launch heading this way with four guys in it. I hope they’re on our side.’
‘They are,’ said Shepherd. ‘Are you okay to cover Thompson while I go up to the bridge?’
‘Now you trust me with a gun?’
Shepherd chuckled and handed the Glock to Sharpe. He picked up the gun that Klaus had been using. It was a 9mm Beretta and he checked that it was loaded and that the safety was off. ‘I figure you’d have trouble with the stairs,’ he said. ‘If he gets off his knees, shoot him.’
‘Will do,’ said Sharpe.
Shepherd went up the stairs to the bridge. He was fairly sure that Thompson hadn’t been lying about the captain being unarmed but he felt more comfortable with the Beretta in his hand. He needn’t have worried. The captain had both hands on the wheel and they were heading straight for the marina. In the distance Shepherd saw a small launch. There were four men in casual clothes standing at the prow and as the wind whipped at their jackets he caught glimpses of guns in shoulder holsters.
‘I had no idea what was going on,’ said the captain. ‘You’ve got to believe me.’
‘Tell that to the cops,’ said Shepherd. ‘I need you to cut the power.’ He pointed at the launch. ‘Those guys are going to board us.’