Snatched! (Foley & Rose Book 6)

by Gary Gregor

  Between them, they carried the heavy porta-loo, each boy leaning to one side under the weight of around twenty litres of bodily waste sloshing inside the holding tank.

  “Go ahead, boys,” the man prompted from behind them. “Go to the top of the ramp and stop.”

  Miller and Jabaldjari glanced at each other briefly and began walking slowly to the top of the ramp.

  “Stop there,” the man ordered.

  The boys stopped. The man walked around them and stood facing them no more than a metre away. The gun in his waistband was almost at eye level with them and neither boy could take his eyes from it. It looked as big as a cannon.

  For a few moments, the man stood there in silence. Looking at them. Casting his eyes from one to the other. Finally, he spoke. “You boys ever seen a gun before?”

  “N… no,” Toby Miller said.

  “What about you, young fella?” Garrett asked Jabaldjari.

  “I seen that riple gun,” Jabaldjari said in his distinct aboriginal brogue.

  “A rifle?” Garrett asked.

  “Yeah, riple gun. My uncle got one riple gun,” Jabajdjari answered. “For hunting kangaroo,” he added.

  “Well, boys,” Garrett continued. He patted the butt of the revolver protruding above his belt. “This is not a rifle. This is a revolver. And, if you want it to stay where it is, you need to do exactly what I say. Do you understand?”

  “Yes,” Toby said.

  “Yep,” John said.

  “Good. Now, I want you both to wait right here where you are,” Garrett said. He indicated behind him. “I’m going out there to have a look around. I will be just a minute or two. Do not move from this spot. Do not try to run away. I will catch you if you try.”

  “Can we put the dunny down?” Toby asked. “It’s bloody heavy.”

  “No, do not put it down. If you are not holding it when I get back there will be trouble. Do you understand that?”

  “You gunna fuckin’ shoot us?” Toby asked.

  Garrett glared at Toby. “What’s your name, son?”

  “My name is Toby, and I’m not your son,” Toby said defiantly.

  “You got a real potty mouth, Toby,” Garrett said. “Your dad ever wash it out with soap?”

  “What?”

  “Never mind,” Garrett said. “No, I’m not going to shoot you. Just as long as you do as you are told. Wait here and do not move!”

  “Might be you can shoot dat kangaroo,” John Jabaldjari said. He nodded his head at the revolver. “With that little rebolber gun.”

  “Why would I do that?” Garrett asked.

  “Not much food left. Soon we might be hungry,” Jabaldjari answered.

  “We’re already bloody hungry,” Toby Miller added.

  “You know, boys,” Garrett began. “As pleasant as it is chatting with you, I can see that toilet is getting heavier by the minute. Wait here! Do not move! I will be back very soon.” He turned away and quickly disappeared around the side of the hill.

  Tracy turned when she heard the bolt slide on the other side of the door. She hurried across the room, stopped, and waited for the door to swing open. When it did, Toby Miller and John Jabaldjari stepped into the room, each holding a handle of a large, plastic, twenty litre drum of water. The drum was heavy, particularly for two young boys to carry, and they dropped it with a deep thud onto the floor at Tracy’s feet.

  Toby Miller rubbed his hand. “Bloody heavy!” he gasped.

  “Toby!” Tracy said sternly. “That’s not very nice language. You know we don’t swear.”

  “Sorry, miss,” Toby said.

  “Well, thank you, and thank you too, John, for bringing the water. You can leave it here and I will take it into the other room. Why don’t you join your classmates now?”

  Toby and John stepped around Tracy and moved away. As they left, Tracy heard Toby say to John, in a voice just above a whisper – “Well, it was bloody heavy!”

  Standing in the open doorway, the man smiled at Tracy. “Couple of feisty dudes, those two,” he said.

  In one hand he held the now empty porta-loo. He stepped a little closer and placed it on the floor next to the water. “There’s your water and your empty toilet. Please don’t forget what I said about the water. Use it sparingly. This is the last of it.”

  Tracy looked him in the eye. “Thank you,” she said softly.

  “You’re welcome.” The man turned to leave.

  “Wait!” Tracy called.

  The man stopped and turned back to face Tracy. “What is it?”

  “Please, can we talk?” Tracy asked.

  “Talk?”

  “Yes. Please.”

  “What about?”

  Tracy shrugged. “I don’t know where to start. I have a million questions.”

  The man smiled. “I don’t have time to answer a million questions. Why don’t you start with question one and we’ll see how it goes?”

  Tracy paused. What to ask first, she wondered? She bit softly on her lower lip, considering her options. “When can we leave here?” she blurted out.

  The man stared at Tracy. Their eyes locked briefly and then she tilted her head slightly, anticipating his answer.

  “Soon,” he said. He turned to leave again.

  “No! Please don’t go.”

  “Another question?” the man asked.

  “I said I had a million,” Tracy said in an attempt to lighten the moment. She offered him a half-smile. It felt odd. She couldn’t remember when she last smiled.

  The man leaned casually against the door jamb and folded his arms across his chest. “What’s question two,” he asked.

  “We’ve been locked in this very stuffy room for three days now,” Tracy began. “I’ve only had the children to talk to.”

  “That’s not a question,” the man said.

  “I know… I know,” Tracy said hurriedly. “I love all my students. They are beautiful.” She looked directly at the man and smiled, wider this time. “Toby swears a bit too much for my liking, but I love him anyway.”

  The man returned Tracy’s smile and held her eyes. “I’m pleased to see that confinement hasn’t dampened your sense of humour. Have you got another question or not?”

  “I don’t know your name,” Tracy said.

  “No, you don’t,” the man confirmed.

  “You know my name, why can’t you tell me yours?”

  “Because I choose not to.”

  “Why? What harm can it do to tell me your name?”

  “Pick a name, Tracy. Any name. I don’t mind what you call me.”

  “Okay,” Tracy paused for a moment and thought. “Jack,” she said. “You look like a Jack.”

  “Jack? Why Jack?”

  Tracy shrugged. “Because Jack is a strong name. You look fit, and strong, like a Jack.”

  “My uncle was a Jack,” the man said. “He was a drunk and a weakling. Beat my aunt senseless many times. Ended up killing himself.”

  “Somehow I don’t think you are a drunk or a weakling. Do you beat your wife?”

  “I’m not married.”

  “Neither am I,” Tracy said and immediately held herself in check. Why did I say that? She thought. What a dumb thing to say.

  “If that is a veiled proposal of marriage, Tracy. I will need some time to think about it.”

  His smile was disarming, and Tracy dropped her eyes, feeling a flush come to her cheeks. “It wasn’t a proposal,” she murmured.

  “I know. And I am not in a position to think about it even if it was. Besides, I’m not the sort of bloke you want spend the rest of your life with.”

  “I wasn’t proposing,” Tracy said again. ““I just wanted someone… an adult… to talk to.”

  “Perhaps we can talk again at another time, Garrett suggested.”

  “When?” Tracy asked a little too hurriedly.

  “Another time,” the man said again. He turned, stepped out of the room and swung the door closed.

  “
Thank you!” Tracy called, a second before the door clanged shut and the locking bolt slid home.

  26

  Richard ‘Maxwell’ Smart was thinking about Tracy. Thoughts of what she and the children must be going through seemed to dominate his mind to the point where he found himself distracted from the task at hand – finding them.

  As often as his job would allow, Smart drove to Haasts Bluff to spend time with her. Sometimes, on weekends when there was no school, Tracy would drive up and stay with him in his accommodation at Papunya. It was only a few weeks ago, when the school holidays coincided with his annual leave that they spent two weeks together touring Kakadu National Park in the tropical north-east of the Territory.

  There had been girlfriends before Tracy, but none of them had the effect on him that she did. He often found himself wondering, just like he was now, what that might mean.

  One day, not long after he first started seeing the new teacher from Haasts Bluff, his OIC, ‘Spog’ Sparrow, sensing there was something on his mind, asked him why he seemed to be so preoccupied. Usually, Max was uncomfortable speaking openly to anyone about his innermost feelings, especially his feelings for Tracy, but in his time at Papunya, ‘Spog’ had become his friend.

  Papunya was a two-man station and postings to smaller ‘bush stations’ were generally two-year assignments. It was important that the officers posted to such stations got on well together. Two years was a long time to spend every working day with someone you were not compatible with. Max had become close with Spog, and his wife, Marian. He had dinner with them at their home at least once a week. His working relationship with Spog was good and their friendship had grown and developed to a point where he knew, even after his time at Papunya was over, it would remain as strong as it ever was.

  Technically, Spog was his boss, but he was also someone Max believed he could confide in. When Spog approached him and asked what was troubling him, without consciously intending to do so, he opened up about his true feelings for Tracy.

  Spog slapped him on the shoulder and laughed. “Good on ya, mate! You’re bloody-well in love! Don’t forget, Marian and I expect an invite to the wedding!”

  Now, sitting quietly at his desk, totally lost in his thoughts, he wondered, not for the first time, if Spog was right. Perhaps he was in love with Tracy. He had never told her he loved her and, likewise, she had never said it to him. He knew it was not important who uttered the ‘L’ word first, and he wondered if it really mattered. What he did know for certain was that his feelings for Tracy ran far deeper than those he had experienced with any of his previous relationships. Did that mean he was in love with her? It was confusing. Being in love can sometimes be confusing, he supposed.

  Suddenly, he sensed someone’s presence, and looked up. Sam Rose stood in front of his desk looking curiously at him.

  “Oh, sorry, Sarge. You startled me. I didn’t see you there,” Smart said.

  “I’ve been standing here for a half-a-bloody-hour, mate,” Sam joked. “Where the bloody hell were you?”

  “Sorry, I was thinking about Tracy and the kids.”

  “There’s nothing to apologise for, Max. We’re all thinking about them,” Sam said. “Are you going to be okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m good. Just got a little distracted. I’m fine now.”

  “You’ve really got it bad for this girl, haven’t you?”

  Max smiled shyly. “Yeah, I suppose I do,” he answered.

  “Well, I’m going to ask you the same question Russell asked you when we first got here – can you still do your job despite your personal feelings for her?”

  “Absolutely!” Max said determinedly. “I won’t let you down. I need to be a part of this.”

  “That’s all I want to hear, Max,” Sam smiled. “You’re lucky its Russell and me out here,” he continued. “If it was Yap Yap Barker for instance, he would have pulled you off the job immediately for being too emotionally involved.”

  “I appreciate you keeping me in this,” Max said.

  “You’re welcome. There is one thing I want you to do, though,” Sam added.

  “Of course,” Max said. “What is it?”

  “When we get Tracy and the kids back – and we will – for Christ’s sake marry the girl! This goggle-eyed, love-struck, moon-face you’re carrying around is not becoming of one of the Northern Territory’s finest.”

  Max smiled widely. “I’ll give it some serious consideration,” he said.

  “Good lad,” Sam said. “Now, Russell and I are about to head back to Alice Springs. There is nothing more to be gained by staying out here. We need to get together with the investigation team back at headquarters. Russell is with Spog at the moment, going over some details, and then we will be off. I just wanted to thank you for your hospitality and your input with this nasty business. Russell, or I, will be in touch with Spog regularly with updates etcetera. In the meantime, stay in contact with the station owners in the district and let us know immediately if you come up with anything that might help us get Tracy and the kids back home.” He held out his hand.

  Max stood and shook hands firmly with Sam. “We will,” he said. “And thanks for coming out.”

  “If you are ever back in the Alice, look me up,” Sam said. “I’ll buy you a beer.”

  “I’ll look forward to it,” Max smiled.

  “Okay,” Sam said. “Come outside and see us off.”

  Smart got up from behind his desk and followed Sam outside.

  Russell Foley had walked several metres away from the car and was talking on his mobile phone. Sam and Max walked across to the car and waited with Spog. A couple of minutes later, Foley closed his phone, stared at it for a few moments, then dropped it into his pocket and moved back to the car.

  “Ready to go?” Sam asked.

  “No,” Foley answered.

  “No?” Sam said.

  “No,” Foley repeated. “We’re not going back.”

  “Why not?” Sam asked. “I’m hanging out for a cold beer… or two.”

  “No cold beer yet, mate,” Foley said. “That was Yap Yap on the phone. We have the drop details.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, really.”

  “Where and when?” Sam asked.

  Foley thrust a finger towards the west. “Out there. Tomorrow,” he said.

  Sam turned and looked towards the western edge of the Papunya settlement. “Out there where?”

  “Way out there. In the desert.” Foley said.

  “A lot of nothing out there,” Spog Sparrow said.

  “How far away is Mount Liebig?” Foley asked.

  “A long way from here,” Spog answered. “One-hundred-and-fifty klicks, maybe a tad further.”

  “What’s out there?”

  “I don’t know,” Spog answered. “I’ve never been out there.”

  Foley turned to Max. “Max?”

  “No, I’ve never been out there either,” Max said.

  “Is this… Mount… Mount…?” Sam began.

  “Mount Liebig,” Foley prompted.

  “Yeah,” Sam nodded. “Is this Mount Liebig the drop point?”

  “Apparently,” Foley said. “The Education Department got the details earlier this morning. Two million dollars, in unmarked fifty, and one-hundred-dollar bills, packed in a bright orange, canvas sack, and dropped at the eastern base of Mount Liebig.”

  “Tomorrow?” Sam asked.

  “That’s what the message said,” Foley confirmed. “Before dawn tomorrow morning.”

  “And the boss wants us to be there?” Sam queried.

  “No,” Foley said. “If they are waiting out there to pick up the money, they’ll see us coming from miles away. It will be dark and they’ll spot our headlights. There is no way we can drive across that country without lights.”

  “Why don’t we go out there now, while its still daylight? Lay low and just wait for them.”

  “I suggested that to Yap Yap,” Foley explained. “If t
hey’re already out there, they’ll be watching, expecting us to do just that. They’ll see us coming and bolt.”

  “Surely we are not going to pay the ransom?” Sam said.

  “It’s gone beyond us,” Foley said. “Against our advice, the Chief Minister has authorised full payment. He wants the teacher and her students back, whatever the cost.”

  “How is the ransom getting out there?” Smart asked.

  “It’s being put together as we speak,” Foley answered. “It will be flown out there by chopper in the early hours of tomorrow morning.”

  “So, what’s our role in all this?” Sam asked.

  “We wait here. Sit tight, and wait for them to collect the ransom and contact us with the location of the hostages.”

  Sam looked at Max. “Sorry, Max, but I’ve gotta ask.” He looked back at Foley. “What if they don’t contact us?”

  “Then we keep looking until we find them,” Foley said.

  “There’s one thing I don’t understand,” Spog said.

  “What?” Foley asked.

  “There is only two ways to get to and from Mount Liebig. Via the Tanami Track or across hundreds of kilometres of rough desert. Either way, they should be easy to spot. All we have to do is watch the Tanami Track and the open desert between here and Mount Liebig.”

  “That’s a lot of country to watch, Spog. I’m sure the perps have thought of that. So far, this whole gig has been well planned and well executed. They will have an escape plan in place, you can bet on it.”

  “Probably more than one if the first one fails,” Sam suggested. “What’s the deal with the bright orange sack?” he asked Foley.

  Foley shrugged. “I guess looking for a plain, uncolored sack would be almost impossible against the desert floor. Bright orange would make it easier to spot in the dark.”

  “That suggests to me they won’t be watching when the chopper makes the drop,” Sam said. “They’ll go looking for it after the chopper leaves the area. Might be a good time for us to be waiting for them.”

  “You might be right, mate,” Foley said. “But whether they will be watching or not is irrelevant. Our instructions are to stay here until we are contacted with the location of Tracy and the kids.”