Underlings (Not being updated at this time)

Underlings - 10. Cargo

Jelte had been with the Port of Rotterdam Authority since leaving school, at a time when the city was the hub of the shipping world, long before the shipyards of Asia began to draw business east and court all the major Ship Owners with cheaper labour costs for the dry docking of vessels.

Autonomous robotic cranes and computer controlled chariots loaded and stacked containers, creating ghost terminals, where once there were hundreds of workers bustling to clear cargoes. He had mixed feelings about it, but he was proud of his job, which had been his for a couple of months.

Now he was Harbour Master, ultimately responsible for the  handling of shipping in Rotterdam, Schiedam and Vlaardingen. He had a decent car finally, a nice salary, a six berth touring caravan for his summer holidays and two daughters that were living at University. Life was perfect, but as always, no two days were ever the same in the shipping world and being called to Masslakte 2 on his day off was as welcome as the storm clouds which hung above the Erasmus Bridge.

He drove through security, needing no other identification than the epaulettes on his shoulders and quickly found Dutch container vessel MV Grietje Skirner; a 396m long vessel weighing 175,000 tons; undamaged, no evidence of a collision, no apparent loss of life, no spills in the water that he could see, yet parked beside it were two vehicles from the Rotterdam-Rijnmond Seaport Police, one from the National Policy Agency (Division Water Police) and three cars from Customs. In his long career in shipping and his brief time as Harbour Master, Jelte knew that this was already going to be one of those situations that would require a scapegoat and as Harbour Master, it could just well be him.

Jelte climbed up the gangway and was met on deck by one of his Inspectors, a giant of a man in his mid-thirties with hands the size of dinner plates that made his own look like a child’s.

“Hey Jeroen, what the fuck is going on?”

“Not sure Captain. I know it’s your day off, but I didn’t know what to do. The crew are inside, detained. There is a problem with the cargo.”

“Where is the god damned Captain of the vessel?”

“He’s dead.”

“What?”

“When I boarded the vessel and noticed a problem, he became agitated. I asked him questions, he evaded me and he took a hand flare, opened the valve on a gas cylinder and poof. Huge fire ball, cylinder propelled like a rocket into the crew quarters... The glass had a shatterproof film, but a crew member was still injured from it. Big mess... The police divers are on their way to retrieve his body. I’ve been interviewed, they told me to stick around. But no one knows who should take charge.”

Jelte noticed the smoke then, still spilling from the place where the cylinder had embedded itself into the bridge. The wind was taking the smoke away from the vessel on the starboard side which is why he’d not seen it on his approach.

“Has anyone notified the Ship Owner’s yet?”

“No.”

“Good. Don’t. Not until we know what she’s carrying. You got the manifesto and bills of lading?”

“The NPA and Customs have the lot now, but I can tell you it was meant to be carrying toys. Electronics... stock for the Christmas season. Various retail companies...trucked to Germany, Spain, Italy, France, the UK...”

Across the starboard yard, representatives of the NPA, Seaport Police and Customs returned to the deck from the bridge. One of them waved at the Harbour Master and crossed the plastic gratings towards where he stood.

The containers loomed above them, casting their shadows across the deck just as the heaven’s opened and the storm clouds wrung the rain from within them.

“Perfect!” yelled the Chief of the NPA, who had appointed himself the person in charge.

“Chief...” Jelte extended his hand and greeted the Chief of the NPA (whose hands weren’t the size of dinner plates) and it made Jelte feel like a man once more.

“Captain. I’m Hans Van Rijdyk, NPA. I take it your Inspector has given you a heads up?”

“Yes. A dead Captain, damage to the vessel, detained crew. We’ll have Insurers, press and every man and his dog getting involved in this one. I see quite a few have already...What is the problem with the cargo?”

“We’re not too sure...” the Chief led the swelling crowd of uniforms to the nearest container and two of his men opened the container for him, which was stacked full of cardboard boxes.

“They were meant to carry children’s toys. The documentation shows this, the labels... but it’s not toys... We weren’t too sure why the Master of the vessel would kill himself over this stuff at first...”

They uniformed men opened a box, to reveal that it was full not of toys, but strange looking helmets with face-shields built into them. They continued to more boxes to demonstrate that it wasn’t a one off.

“I don’t understand. Who would smuggle these things into Europe? Why not list them as they are? They’re hardly contraband... I was expecting drugs or weapons...”

The Chief handed him the helmet, which was incredibly light, carbon coloured and shaped in a mould of a human face; with features included in the shape but not finished, just curves of them. It looked eerie, unsettling somehow and reminded him of a Japanese war mask he’d once seen in an exhibition at the Museum Boijmans Van Beuningen.

“Put it on...” The Chief challenged him and he was hesitant to do it; unsure if it was a joke, or dangerous. He feared that if he put it on, he might not be able to take it off.

The others watched as he put it on. All was darkness inside, until it was in place and then it came alive. Brilliant lights displayed the world around him with intense clarity; the deck of MV Grietje Skirner was no longer cast in shadow, but a canvass of detail; he could see the flecks on the gratings to form grip for those walking upon them... the rain that soaked them all fell in 3Dimensional sacks that parachuted down until they exploded on impact with whatever surface met them. This was only the beginning... the helmet configured and the display began to tell Jelte about his surroundings. He knew the speed of the rain which fell, he knew the distance of the bridge when he looked at it, of the end of the vessel, of the highest container which was stacked...of the nearest vessel and then knew what vessel type it was and what it was made of and suddenly he knew that it had twelve people onboard of it and that four of those were seated together in a room he knew to be the galley.

He was overwhelmed, but he couldn’t stop it... the information...the detail... he held his breath, his heart raced and the helmet told him that his heart rate had increased and that his body temperature had risen slightly.

When he looked at those gathered around him, it identified them as male, it identified one of the customs officers as the weakest in terms of stamina and strength, then it looked through him, into his skin and the Harbour Master could see that the man had metal pins in his leg from the top to the bottom and a pace-maker fitted. He was looking inside the person stood in front of him. It was too much... he took it off, caught his breath and let the rain slap his face and bring him back to reality.

“It’s military. Fuck!”

“Captain, this is a 16020 TEU vessel. We’ve only checked half a dozen of the containers, but all of them are the same. We think that maybe all sixteen thousand of these containers are full with the same cargo... Why would anyone send this to Europe, unless someone is starting a war?”

Jelte looked at the expectant faces around him. They were all waiting; two months in and this was on his shoulders.

“Shit... let me think... We need to stop all vessels and get people onboard. Prioritise anything from the same Ship Owner and anything that has come from the same port. I think we need to escalate this to the Government immediately and I think we need to close the whole port down.”

“That’s what we thought you’d say...”