at the sky, the clouds were scudding across rapidly. A few spots of rain hit his face. Dennis looked down at himself, he took his bow tie off and shoved it in his trouser pocket. The rain began now, coming down hard.
Dennis looked up at the razor wire.
‘There must be a way over it’
He moved along the containers and saw that the fence ran the entire length of the docks and extended over the water. Then on his way back he noticed a container that was on its own near the fence. The doors were open on it and he peered inside. There was just a pile of smelly rubbish and some pages of a newspaper blowing about within. Dennis tested the bars of the door lock. He was sure they would take his weight and he began to climb up them. It was difficult with the wet and he slipped frequently but finally he made it to the top. He pulled himself up and knelt on the roof of the container. He rubbed the palms of his hands together. The cold wet metal had been painful to them.
The fence was eight feet from the container and two feet above it. He took his jacket off. In seconds his white shirt was soaked from the rain. Bunching the sleeves of the jacket in his fists he stepped back to the edge of the container, checked his grip on the steel roof by sliding his foot backwards and forwards over the surface, took a few deep breaths and started his very short run. He launched himself across the gap and slammed into the chain link fence. The jacket caught on the razor wire and he both heard and felt it ripping. He held on with all his strength and pulled himself up. Dennis felt the razor wire begin to cut through the material and he felt his palms being sliced by the wire. He scrabbled over the top and felt a sharp pain over his ribs as he kicked his legs over and dropped to the ground. In the dark he held his palms up to his face and saw the fresh blood. He looked down at his shirt. There was a slash in it, over his ribs. He put his fingertips inside the tear. There was fresh blood on them when he pulled them out. He felt along the cut, though it was stinging it didn’t feel serious. He looked up at his jacket hanging in shreds on top of the fence.
“Oh well there goes three hundred quid,” he said out loud, “Nat’s going to be pissed!” He looked over at the vessel, “Now I just need to get on that ship.”
Keeping close to the fence which he hoped was keeping him in the shadows Dennis moved along the dock looking for a way onto the ship. It towered above him, containers stacked five and six high on its deck. The bridge was near the stern and Dennis could see people moving about in the lights. At the stern he could see the rotor blades of a helicopter on the heli-pad. There was no way onto the ship that he could see. He looked at the thick ropes, as thick as a man’s thigh that went from the docks cleats to the stern of the ship. Now he could see her name painted in large white letters.
‘Meeresbrise’ Hamburg.
Dennis’ German was very limited but he translated the ship’s name into ‘Ocean Breeze’ home port Hamburg, Germany. Then he saw the death’s head next to the last ‘e’ of Meeresbrise.
‘Now there’s a surprise’ he said to himself.
Dennis grabbed hold of the ropes and leaned out over the water as far as he could, turned upside down and wrapped his feet around the ropes and began to climb up hand over fist. It was difficult in the wind and rain and the further he climbed the harder it got. His strength was ebbing fast, his muscles in his arms, legs, neck and back screaming for relief. Dennis stopped and leaned his neck back to see how much further he had to go. He was almost at the ship and he glanced down at the water seventy feet below. Another six feet and he could clamber over the stern and onto the ship. Summoning the last reserves of his strength he made to move the last few feet when he froze. He could hear voices approaching and then he saw the tops of the