Follow me,’ Vane said and led them up the stairs to the rear dining deck. Surrounded by a perimeter of S.M.G toting uniformed contractors, the table was laid out for lunch, at its head sat, wearing a pair of bleached chinos, blue oxford shirt, under a straw boater and reading the Financial Times, David Smythe. ‘Your guests have arrived,’ Vane hissed. Smythe folded the newspaper in half and put it down on the table.
‘Thank you Charles,’ Smythe said in a perfect Oxford-educated Queen’s English — brimmed with a self-assured arrogance. He didn’t acknowledge Alex, but got up from the table and walked over to the perimeter rail and stared out at the fishing boat. ‘I do hope you haven’t brought aboard any fleas from that wretched vessel,’ Smythe said before turning to look at Alex. ‘Really have fallen on hard times haven’t you old boy, scratching for coins out in the desert, and conveyed by what appears to be the jalopy of the seas. What a sad spectacle to see such a knight of majesty reduced to a mere beggar in rags.’ Alex didn’t respond. He stared coldly at Smythe without a shred of emotion. ‘Well sit down won’t you? I suppose the least we can do is offer you a spot of luncheon. I don’t imagine the catering quality aboard your pleasure vessel would quite be up to par with my Michelin-star chef’s culinary output.’ Alex walked over and sat down at the opposite head of the table to Smythe. Masato and Hamid remained standing, flanked either side of Alex’s seat. Vane walked over and perched on a bar stool watching over proceedings. ‘So how have you been Aleksandr?’
‘Why do you ask?’
‘Ah yes, the Russian has long-since taken over from the Englishman. No time for pithy small talk or trivial icebreakers about the weather now eh?’
‘No, I’m just curious Smythe. Do you care how I’ve been, or do you merely want to know if all your Machiavellian plotting against me has had the desired effect?’
‘Oh now Alex darling, don’t be so precious. You imagine all your trials and tribulations are at my behest, or indeed I have time for such petty squabbles? People to see, things to do. You may imagine me sitting aboard my mighty ship plotting through the night on how to bring about your downfall, but you are of no such account to be worthy of more than a fleeting moment of my time.’
‘Hmmm.’
‘Not convinced eh? Oh the paranoia of the mercenary. What does your all-seeing visionary Samurai have to say on the matter? What fascinating stories has he read in the tea leaves this morning, do share.’
‘Masato wishes you good health David-san,’ Masato replied with a bow.
‘He does, does he? That’s wonderful news. And what of his little playmate, Hamid?’
‘Peace be upon you,’ Hamid replied with a gracious bow of the head.
‘And upon you Hamid, and upon you. Isn’t this all jolly civilised? We could almost all be friends.’
‘Apart from the minor detail of you taking my wife hostage,’ Alex sneered.
‘Ah yes... I wondered when we’d get to the proverbial elephant in the room.’ The ship’s stewards served lunch, which David started on, but Alex declined, pushing it away. ‘You rejecting my hospitality? Isn’t that considered terribly rude in the Arab circles you like to mingle?’
‘You’re not an Arab. I can offend you as much as I want.’
‘Ha. Like some sort of modern Lawrence of Arabia aren’t you Alex, uniting them all against the meddling interference of Pernicious Albion and her colonial American chums. T.E Lawrence would be most proud of you.’
‘Indulge me Smythe. When you watched the Twin Towers burning, and all those desperate people jumping out to save their lives, knowing you had a hand in it, what went through your mind?’ Alex asked.
Smythe stared back coldly without a shred of emotion. ‘Profit.’
‘No pity, no sense of compassion?’
‘I’m an arms dealer. War is business. War is profit. And business is about to become very profitable. Oh come now dear boy, don’t moralise on war to me! You are a mercenary. I may provide the tools, but you my friend; you are the one who gets paid to actually use them. Your hands are covered in blood and you know it. So save me the pithy lectures on compassion and kindness. You’re an assassin. You kill for profit, I merely supply the means.’
‘The Guild doesn’t kill for profit.’
‘Then what does it kill for? It’s never been entirely clear to me what your purpose is. From the crusades to the communists, you’ve sold your services to all. If not for coin then for what? For God? You serve all from Muslims to Jews, Catholics to Hindus. How do you reconcile a holy war when you are fighting your brothers? No Alex, you can hide behind your charters, and your codes, and your traditions, but you are merely a very out-dated, very antiquated, public limited company, whose time is nearly at an end. No more kings, no more crusades. Futures, derivatives, war traded on a stock market alongside iPods and Chevrolets. Welcome to the future.’
‘I’ve heard it all before. It’d all sound terribly grand and impressive if I didn’t remember you as the snivelling little salesman in a suit peddling surplus AK47’s to African warlords.’
‘We’ve all got to start somewhere Alex. I seem to remember you were rather unceremoniously kicked out of The Regiment before you even got your little hat to wear. Can’t even call yourself a Blade, can you Lexi? Have to content yourself with being a mere craphat like the rest of the failures peddling their wares on the circuit.’
‘Whatever helps you sleep at night.’
‘I sleep very well at night, my pillows are stuffed full of money.’
‘Doesn’t the blood stain the linen?’
‘Oh touché. Very drole Alexsandr.’
‘Do you mind if we just get the fuck on with this? Listening to you is like having my ears drilled out.’
‘Oh darling, you’ll hurt my feelings. But if you insist, I do have a conference call scheduled so let’s conclude this sordid affair before the main course arrives. Vane, bring out his whore.’ Vane looked at Alex, a silent communicated nod. Vane headed into the boat. ‘She’s been surprisingly well behaved. She has good breeding of course, quite why she felt compelled to marry a street-urchin from the Urals is anyone’s guess.’
‘If we’re going to go down that path, which one of these nonces are you pleasuring this week?’ Alex asked, nodding at the men stood around guarding Smythe.
‘Now now, Alex, don’t let your predilection for homophobic slurs upset me. We’re not all in the vagina business. These are enlightened times, no need for us to be ashamed of who we are in this brave new libertarian era.’
‘Paedophiles are still not exactly welcome though are they Smythe? At least not in open, even though your club is undoubtedly full to the rafters with them.’
‘Baseless accusations fabricated by your friends in the K.G.B.’
‘They’re the F.S.B now.’
‘They’ll always be the K.G.B, and the way the current king is directing things, I have no doubt we’ll see the Soviet star along with the old hammer and sickle flying over Moscow before too long.’
‘If that’s the case, it’ll be flying over Westminster not long after.’
‘I fear The King in the Red Castle over-reaches himself. Many have tried, many have failed. As will he.’