Undersea Prison Read Online Free PDF Page B

the locks uppermost as Sena stepped beside him to assess the task.
    ‘Hit the lock,’ Durrani said. To the mullah, Durrani appeared to be as anxious as himself to see what was in the case. But in truth Durrani was merely irritated by Sena’s sluggishness.
    Sena was the mullah’s clerical assistant and had been a servant of one type or another all his life. He was graceful, thoughtful and in no way technical and as he placed the tip of the screwdriver in the joint between the two locks every shred of self-confidence had drained from his expression.
    ‘The lock,’ Durrani said, a hint of irritation in his voice. ‘Put it against the lock.’
    Sena moved the tip of the screwdriver closer to one of the locks, gritted his teeth and raised the hammer that looked a touch too heavy for him. Before he could bring it down Durrani snatched away the tools. ‘Hold the case,’ he snapped.
    Sena gripped the briefcase, nervous in the presence of his master and this veteran fighter.
    Durrani placed the end of the screwdriver on the mounting of the lock, raised the hammer and brought it down, splitting it.The case was not designed as a safe; its real security depended on its human escort. Another blow split the second lock as easily and the case popped, its top springing open slightly. Durrani would not be so forward as to open it completely himself and he turned it to face the mullah.
    The mullah took hold of the briefcase and lifted the top fully to reveal the inside filled with a foam-rubber pad tailored to fit. He removed the top layer of foam to reveal a thin manila file and several letters. He moved them aside and studied the rest of the contents: a grey plastic box the size of a cigarette pack neatly placed in its own little cut-out space.
    The mullah decided to open the file first. It contained several white pages with typed paragraphs in English, a language which he could not read. He put it to one side and looked at the letters, each with a name on it. He placed them on the file, his interest now focused entirely on the grey plastic box which he removed from its mould.
    He rotated it, searching for a way to open it, and dug a dirty thumbnail under a tab. As he prised it up he fumbled, almost dropping the box as it opened. A grey sliver, part plastic, part metal and the size of a small coin, fell out onto the desk. The mullah put down the box to examine the object that appeared to be a tiny technological device. He picked it up and studied it, with a deep frown on his face.
    Sena was unable to resist leaning forward to have a look for himself.
    The mullah opened a drawer in his desk, pulled out a magnifying glass and held it over the object to examine it more closely. The device had several gold contact surfaces on one side, similar to those on a SIM card.
    The mullah had no idea what it was but the security surrounding it was evidence enough that the device was of significant value. He placed it back inside its box and rested it on the desk.
    Durrani looked between the box and the mullah, wondering what his leader planned to do with such a find.The potential value was not lost on him either but how to determine that value precisely was beyond him.
    ‘Leave,’ the mullah said to Durrani. ‘But do not go far.’
    Durrani did not hesitate. The mullah was his boss and if he was to profit in any way from this find it would depend entirely on the mullah’s generosity. Durrani headed for the door. Sena sprang to life and beat him to it. They headed back up the stairs, along the corridor where they had to step over the lounging guards again, past the entrance and to a room at the opposite end.
    Sena opened the door. ‘Make yourself comfortable, please,’ he said, stepping back. Durrani entered the small stone room that contained a rug, several cushions and a little cooker with everything required to prepare a cup of sweet tea. ‘Would you like some food?’ Sena asked.
    Durrani considered the offer. He had not eaten since that