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was
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    almost half a kilometer from Simonet's air-conditioned office in the customs house
    to the bulk terminal where the stinking, rusty Marie Claire was waiting. For a
    moment, Simonet was tempted to just let it go. Fuck it. Fuck them. He could have
    a heart attack walking half a kilometer along the dock in the broiling sun, unless
    he could grab one of the electric carts the fonctionnaires used.
    But if he didn't go, Boisier would miss out on his bribe and take it out on
    him. Boisier was a master of bureaucratic rules and could make Simonet's life
    miserable in any number of ways. Simonet was retiring in December, all he
    wanted was to keep his head down. So, okay, he'd make the trek out to the end of
    the dock, make sure the captain filled out the form and come back. He'd let Boisier
    know what he'd done. Boisier could pick up his bribe next time around and he'd
    better be grateful to Simonet.
    Simonet only found a cart about a hundred meters from where the Marie
    Claire was moored. He stopped the cart on the dockside and looked up with
    disgust at the Marie Claire. It was a miracle she hadn't already sunk under the
    weight of the rust. She was scheduled to sail out at 1600 hours. Her entire crew
    should have been on deck, preparing the ship for departure, but Simonet couldn't
    see a soul.
    Merde, he was going to have to do this the hard way. Grumbling to himself,
    he walked up the broad gangplank, looking around when he reached the deck. He
    was aft, near the forecastle, and completely alone on deck.
    This was strange, and slightly eerie. Ship decks just before departure were
    hives of activity. Time was money, and docking at the harbor unnecessarily was
    expensive.
    Simonet walked along the side of the ship, next to the huge containers that
    filled the mid-ship line. Doubtless there were double the number of containers
    belowdecks.
    He finally reached the stern section, the radar tower and stack rising high
    above him. He still had not seen anybody. Simonet eyed the ladder leading up to
    the bridge and the chart room with loathing. It was steaming hot and this was way
    beyond the call of duty. Fuck Boisier.
    But then again, Boisier definitely had the ability to make his life truly
    miserable in the remaining six months on the job. With a huge sigh, Simonet
    started climbing and was dripping with sweat and feeling faint by the time he got
    to the chart room, where most captains spent their time while docked.
    Empty. Merde.
    It was perfectly pointless calling out, because of the noise of the overhead
    cranes. He'd simply have to go through the ship looking for the captain.
    Simonet found the ladder down into the hold and scurried down it,
    welcoming the slightly cooler temperature belowdecks. There was some noise at
    the end of a long corridor and he followed it, making no attempt to soften his
    footsteps. Men's voices, low and sonorous, concentrating on a task. He heard the
    sounds of hammers striking metal. Probably trying to repair the rust bucket
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    themselves, without calling in the shipyard crew.
    Simonet reached the end of the corridor--and froze. He took in at a glance a
    scene that sent ice through his veins, understanding it instantly. Heart thudding
    with fear, he backed slowly away, the form fluttering unnoticed to the deck.
    He couldn't be seen! These men were heartless, utterly ruthless. Unworthy
    of the name of human beings. They didn't hesitate to massacre women and
    children. A low-level clerk was nothing to them.
    Where he'd walked down the corridor without any attempt at quiet, he now
    flattened himself against the bulkhead, wishing he could simply melt into it,
    through it.
    Oh God, he had to get out without being seen.
    The longer he stayed, the greater were his chances of being discovered.
    Simonet moved as fast as he could back down the corridor, throwing frantic
    glances behind him. The men he'd seen were armed. He was totally defenseless in
    this steel corridor, an unmissable target. He had no