‘Oh, yes?’ said the skipper. He was terrified of the giant Chechen, and his dark-eyed companion, but he tried hard not to show it. ‘May I ask why?’

‘No, you may not,’ said Kadyrov. ‘We were going to Tabarka in Tunisia, yes?’

‘Yes.’

‘Now we’re not going to Tabarka. We’re going to Al Khums, instead.’

‘In Libya?’

‘Yes, in Libya.’

The skipper pulled off his cap, scratching his head as he did so. ‘But it’s not safe.’

‘I will personally guarantee your safe passage,’ said Kadyrov. ‘You know my reputation.’

‘Yes. But…’

‘But what?’

The skipper said nothing, but looked at his feet.

‘How much longer is the journey?’ said Kadyrov.

‘I will need to look at my charts.’

‘So look at your charts,’ said Kadyrov. He turned to Shishani, and rolled his eyes.

The skipper bent his head over the table in the tiny bridge.

‘To Tabarka, from where we are now, is approximately three hundred nautical miles,’ he said.

Kadyrov waved his hand, dismissively. ‘I don’t know this measurement,’ he said. ‘Tell me in kilometres.’

The skipper closed his eyes as he did the mental arithmetic. ‘About five hundred and fifty kilometres,’ he said.

‘And to Al Khums?’

‘Three times the distance.’

‘At your boat’s top speed, how long to get there?’

‘I could push it a little. We’re currently doing between ten and eleven knots. I can make fourteen. Fourteen knots makes it…’ He closed his eyes again. ‘Three days. Two-and-a-half at best.’

Kadyrov looked at him. ‘You have the fuel?’

‘Yes.’

‘And food?’

‘Enough.’

‘So what is the problem?’

‘Well, the crew.’

‘It is not enough for them that they are engaged in striking the biggest blow against the West since Osama hit New York?’ said Kadyrov, jovially.

‘Well, I…’

‘Listen, brother,’ said the Chechen. ‘I will pay you one thousand US dollars per man, for six extra days. Three days there with us, and three days back to here without us. You and your three men – that makes twenty-four thousand dollars. In fact, I will round it up to twenty-five thousand.’

The skipper’s demeanour brightened considerably.

His men were on three hundred dollars each for the entire month, and would do as he told them.

So that extra money would go into his own pocket, and stay there.

‘I think we can do it,’ he said.

‘Good man,’ said Kadyrov, with a wolfish grin. He leaned over and ruffled the skipper’s hair. ‘If you had refused I was going to gut you and throw you overboard.’

‘To sleep with the fishes,’ said Shishani.

‘Yes,’ said Kadyrov, with a deep laugh. ‘To sleep with the fishes.’

The skipper almost burst into tears in his fright.

‘Go and make us some chai, and then come back and unrig the wheel,’ said the bearded giant.

The skipper managed a nod before scurrying off.

‘Not all men are made as we are, brother,’ said Shishani, as he watched him go.