Holger and Kaare reacted with a start as the ship’s engine rumbled into life. The captain had cast off the moorings without them realising, but they were almost certain that no one had seen them getting on board. And, hopefully, this will continue to be the case as we’re a long way from being home and dry yet, he thought as he sat down carefully. He drew the pistol from his pocket and placed it in his lap as he leaned against the hull. Slowly, his tired eyes shut. Faintly, he heard commands being shouted, followed by busy footsteps overhead. The ship’s movements changed into a rolling pattern, and as he calmly drifted into sleep, he registered that the ship had left the harbour and was on its way through the Gulf of Finland. He didn’t bother to check whether Kaare, too, had himself as comfortable as possible but let the ship’s constant murmurs and the lapping sound of the waves transport his body to a zone where the much-needed rest took over. Kaare, however, had other plans and gently prodded Holger with his elbow.
‘Hey, don’t fall asleep. We need to find out where we’re going. And where the duty-free sales are?’
Holger was still dozing but mustered a smile and mechanically checked his watch as he straightened and rubbed his eyes. 436
‘Is the reward for saving your backside that I must be your tour guide too? Let’s check out the ship then,’ he replied, pocketing the pistol.
The rolling motion was more substantial now, demanding concentration to stay upright as they advanced down the slanted ship ladder that led to the hold. The lighting was dim, and they waited momentarily at the foot of the ladder to allow their eyes to adjust to the gloom. Suddenly, they heard a noise. A noise alien to the ship. A noise created by human beings. Holger pulled out his pistol and gestured to Kaare to follow him. The dark hold smelled of an undefinable mixture of oil, timber and the rancid stench of wild animals. They moved cautiously through the hold, their steps in sync with the rhythm of the ship. Halfway through, they discovered a container. That was the source of the noise. Holger turned carefully to face Kaare and, with hand signals, let him know they had to open the container. Kaare released the safety catch on his sub-machine gun without a sound. Resolutely as they drew close to the container. Holger readied himself with the pistol in front of the door while Kaare, in a fluid movement, pulled open the container door. Holger quickly stepped closer with his gun raised for firing. Kaare had already shouldered his sub-machine gun for deadly, aimed firing. The gleam of light entering the container revealed a sight that knocked them sideways. On the floor sat a group of darkskinned young men. Squeezed tightly together. The men blinked at the meagre light. They were as surprised as Kaare and Holger; they stared fearfully at the two-armed strangers outside the container.
‘Speak English?’ asked Kaare in a low, commanding voice.
A young man at the back of the container raised his hand: for permission.437
‘Don’t shoot. We are Tamils and Iraqi Kurds. We have no money. Everything we owned has been spent on being here. I have waited over two years for this final part of the journey.’
Holger exchanged an inquisitive look with Kaare while the young man continued:
‘We want to seek asylum. Have waited far too long in Russia. We’re hungry. Our lives are the only thing you can take.’
‘We’re not going to take anything whatsoever from you. We’re your new travel companions. My name is Holger, and this is Kaare,’ said Holger and began to laugh at the irony of the situation.
All at once, it dawned on him that his laughter made the asylum seekers, if possible, more afraid than they already were. Because he still had the pistol trained on them. Holger raised his left hand apologetically and tucked the pistol back into his pocket. The young English-speaking man stood hesitantly. Cautiously, he pressed through the group sitting like stone pillars in the container. When he arrived at the opening, Holger stretched out his hand.
‘We won’t hurt you. We’re on the run ourselves. Tell that to your friends, and we’ll get you all some water. But you must stay here until we’ve chatted with the captain.’
The thin man nodded, but his twitching eyes still looked scared.
‘You will get to your destination. No worries. We’ll return. Understood?’
Holger made an effort to speak slowly while looking deep into his eyes. The young man nodded eagerly and turned to face the others in the container this time. Holger did not understand the language he spoke, but in a trice, the tense atmosphere had gone. Tentative smiles spread across the men’s faces, and the young man turned towards Holger again:438
‘We’re heading for Sweden. We’ll be let off at Simrishamn.’
‘Simrishamn?’ blurted Holger.
‘I was a schoolteacher in Iraq – Baghdad. Taught geography, so I know Sweden,’ he answered with pride.
Holger smiled appreciatively and gave the men in the container an encouraging nod before he and Kaare darted back to the ladder and negotiated it in agile moves up to the ship’s deck. Taking cover behind a couple of large wooden crates, they sucked in the lay of the land with their guns at the ready. Kaare pointed out the ship’s bridge where the captain stood smoking a pipe. They waited for a couple of minutes, but he was apparently alone. Kaare and Holger moved towards the bridge, only one of them moving at a time while the other covered him with his gun. Fire and manoeuvre, Holger thought with a smile. It was the cornerstone drill of small unit combat, something he had trained for time and again at the Jaeger Corps. As they reached the bridge, Kaare nodded, and they ran swiftly up the stairs. Seconds later, Kaare ripped open the door to the bridge, and they jumped in with their weapons drawn. The captain’s face cracked in an expression of pure fear, but surprisingly swiftly, his weathered wrinkles regained composure. Only his eyes betrayed that his mind was firing on all cylinders under the controlled facade.
‘I understand, captain, that the ship’s course is set for Sweden,’ Holger said in Russian, as if it was a natural part of a relaxed conversation.
The captain nodded, but his eyes revealed he was struggling to interpret the circumstances. They aren’t police. Not with those clothes. Are they a rival competitor? No, I would already be dead by now. Who are they then? The answers were not exactly queuing up, and finally, he shrugged in resignation and glanced over the sea.439
‘We don’t care about the people you have in the cargo hold. But you’re no longer heading for the Swedish coast. Instead, you set a course for Bornholm. Out from Dueodde,’ Holger continued.
The captain’s eyes widened, but Holger smiled as a sign that the refugees were of no interest.
‘After we have debarked, you can swing back towards the Swedish coast as planned. You’ll have to work out how to handle the Swedish coastguard on your own. We’ll borrow one of your life rafts, but no one will see anything unusual. Once we reach Bornholm, you’ll get five hundred dollars. Then you don’t inform the Swedish coastguard, and we won’t report you to the police. Are we agreed?’
The captain let the words sink in and confirmed his acceptance with a nod, scratching his beard as his face ruptured in a broad smile.
‘There’s some vodka in the cupboard,’ he said, gesturing towards the cabinet behind him.