Free Rough Diamonds (A Spider Shepherd short story) by Stephen Leather Page B

gaze.
    As Shepherd looked round, he saw a man approaching. He was wearing a linen suit, an MCC tie and a Panama hat, and couldn’t have looked more typically “an Englishman abroad” if he’d been wearing a bowler hat and carrying a furled umbrella. Jonathan Parker had claimed to be a businessman when they’d first met him in the hotel bar two weeks before, but everything about him had told them from the start that he was a spook. He had later admitted that he was with MI6 and, using intelligence his agency had gathered, he supplied them with the location of the rebel arms dump that they had then destroyed.
    He swept off his hat and gave an exaggerated bow to them. ‘Gentlemen, I believe congratulations are in order. Surveillance imagery is showing a large, blackened crater where the rebel arms dump used to be. And as a nice bonus there were quite a few corpses around it too. Two the price of one - that’s what I like to see.’ Without invitation, he sat down, then leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table and putting the tips of his fingers together. ‘Seriously lads, job well done. You gave the rebels a well-deserved bloody nose.’
    ‘And Spider here nearly died,’ said Geordie.
    Parker managed to fake a look of concern. ‘Really?’
    ‘It was a bit rough, yeah,’ said Shepherd. ‘But all’s well that ends well.’
    ‘He’s going to do a McNab and write a bestseller,’ said Jimbo. ‘Short And Curlies – how I was chased through the jungle by a group of twelve-year-olds with Kalashnikovs,’
    Shepherd pulled an ice cube from his glass and tossed it at Jimbo.
    ‘You’re okay though?’ asked Parker, and his concern seemed more genuine.
    Shepherd shrugged. ‘I had a rough few days in the jungle, but I’m back on form.’
    ‘Good to hear, because there another problem you might be able to help me with.’ He waved over a waiter and asked for a coffee.
    ‘Let me guess,’ Shepherd said once the waiter had gone. ‘It’s your pet mercenaries.’
    ‘Indeed. As you know, they have ignored their orders and instead of fighting the rebels, they’re plundering diamonds from the Kono fields. We have intelligence that they’ve secured a large cache of uncut diamonds - several million pounds worth - and are planning to make a run for the Liberian border. If they succeed, they’ll not only be able to sell the diamonds there but the Liberians will also buy or otherwise obtain their armoured vehicles and heavy weapons, and we cannot afford that to happen.’
    ‘Pity you didn’t think of that before you supplied the mercenaries, isn’t it?’ Jock said.
     Parker gave Jock a wintry smile. ‘To be fair now, that particular decision was taken way above my pay grade,’ he said. ‘And as my old grandmother used to say, there’s no use crying over spilled milk.’ His coffee arrived and he helped himself to three spoons of sugar before continuing. ‘At the moment the Liberians are already using their ex-Soviet helicopter-gunships in cross-border raids in support of the rebels here. Not much we can do about that. But the Liberians can’t give the rebels armoured vehicles and heavy weapons without endangering their own security because the Liberian regime’s grip on power in its own country is by no means secure. They just don’t have the resources.  But if the rebels can get their hands on the mercenaries’ vehicles and heavy weapons that could well tip the balance here. And that one thing that HMG most definitely doesn’t want is for the present government to be overthrown.’
    ‘Because it’s doing such a great job of running the country?’ said Shepherd, his voice loaded with sarcasm.
    Parker flashed him a tight smile as he stirred his coffee. ‘Believe me, it could get a lot worse.’
    ‘So what is it you want?’
    ‘I was hoping that perhaps you might be able to make sure that the vehicles and weapons don’t fall into rebel hands.’
    Shepherd’s jaw dropped. ‘You want us to