Free Under Fire: (A Dan Taylor thriller) by Rachel Amphlett Page A

start-up routine, then bent down and picked up the carry bag tucked under Rashid’s desk and tested the weight. ‘What did Shareen cook us for supper tonight?’
    ‘Nothing for you,’ said Rashid. ‘Not even leftovers.’ He smiled and turned back to the CCTV screens.
    ‘It’s not fair you know,’ complained Adil. ‘She always gives you far too much.’ He gently shook the bag before putting it back under the desk. ‘All my mum gives me is…’
    ‘Not now.’ Rashid held up a hand and frowned, looking back at the screens. Each one flicked spasmodically in turn, and then settled as if nothing had happened.
    ‘What was that?’ asked Adil, getting out of his chair and standing behind his colleague.
    ‘I’m not sure.’ Rashid reached out and moved the computer mouse slowly across his control screen. The pointer juddered as he moved it from left to right, the cursor moving backwards for every forward movement Rashid made. He lifted his hand off the mouse and both men watched in amazement as the cursor travelled backwards across the screen.
    The screen displayed a schematic of the gas facility – a working drawing of the parts and systems which enabled the Qataris to super-cool the gas into its liquid state then pump it onto the waiting ships.
    Rashid rolled up his sleeves, inched his chair closer to the desk and began typing a string of commands. He hit the ‘enter’ button and sat back, satisfied.
    He blinked.
    Adil gasped as the text started to disappear.
    Rashid glanced down at the keyboard – nothing touched the ‘delete’ or ‘backspace’ buttons. He looked up at the screen and watched in amazement as the mouse pointer began to click on a set of valves within the pumping system, repeatedly turning them on and off in rapid succession.
    ‘What is this?’ asked Adil, his hands gripping the back of Rashid’s chair. ‘What’s going on?’
    Rashid shook his head. ‘I’m not sure.’ He looked up at the other man. ‘Who’s working in the main control centre tonight?’
    Adil leaned across the desk and picked up a clipboard with a roster sheet attached to it. He checked his watch, then glanced down the page. ‘Here you go – Samir’s up there.’
    Rashid leaned forward and picked up the phone. It rang twice before being picked up, the man at the other end breathless. ‘Yes?’
    ‘Are you doing this?’ asked Rashid.
    ‘No! What’s going on?’
    ‘I’m coming up.’ Rashid put down the phone and turned to Adil. ‘Come on – let’s go.’
    Both men ran to the stairs leading up to the next level, Rashid clearing them two at a time. As he rounded the top stair, Samir came running towards him. ‘Whoever it is has changed the automated settings for the vapour return arms on the jetty,’ he said, his breath labouring. ‘If the valves keep getting turned on and off, they’re going to fail and we won’t be able to stop the gas flow.’
    Rashid pushed past him and ran to the man’s desk. He pulled up the view of the controls data and read through the strings of information in disbelief.
    Samir and Adil stood either side of his chair, their eyes searching the data for clues.
    ‘We’ve been hacked,’ said Rashid. He turned to Samir. ‘Get onto Engineering and IT – tell them what’s happening.’
    The other man nodded, moved away to another desk and began making phone calls. Adil looked down at Rashid and pulled out his mobile phone. ‘I’ll get on to Operations at the jetty. They might not be seeing this at their workstations.’
    Rashid nodded, and glanced out the window behind them. His eyes opened wide. ‘You had better hurry – look!’
    Adil followed his gaze and watched as the large LNG carrier eased itself against the jetty. The ship’s enormous bulk towered over the facility, its lights ablaze as it slowed to a halt.
    Rashid gave the younger man a hard shove. ‘Make that call – they can’t start pumping gas into that ship until we’ve sorted this out.’
    Adil nodded and