Snakehead

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Snakehead Page 22

by Anthony Horowitz


  The last building was the hospital itself, long and narrow with a row of windows covered in mosquito net and a red cross painted on the front door. This was where Alex would be sent when the time came…not once but again and again until there was nothing left of him. The thought made him shiver despite the damp heat of the afternoon, and he turned his head away.

  At first sight, there didn’t seem to be too much security—but then Alex noticed a second fence, this one on the edge of the compound and about ten yards high. It was painted green to blend in with the forest beyond. There were no boats moored to the jetty and no sign of any boathouse, so an escape downriver would be impossible too—unless he swam. And at the end of the day, what would be the point of breaking out of here? He had seen from the plane. He was in the middle of the outback with nowhere to go.

  The two Aboriginals had each clamped hold of one of his arms, and now they led him toward the administrative building. As they reached the door, a young woman appeared, dressed as a nurse. She was short, plump, and blond. She had put on bright red lipstick, which seemed strangely at odds with her starched white uniform. One of her stockings had runs.

  “You must be Alex,” she said. “I’m Nurse Hicks. But you can call me Charleen.”

  Alex had never heard such a broad Australian accent. And what the woman was saying was simply crazy. She was welcoming him as if he might actually be glad to be here.

  “Come right in,” she continued. Then she noticed the handcuffs. “Oh, for heaven’s sake!” she exclaimed in a voice full of indignation. “You know we don’t need those here, Jacko. Will you please remove them?”

  One of the men produced a key and freed Alex’s hands and feet. The nurse tut-tutted at them, then opened the door and led Alex down a corridor that was clean and simple, with rush matting and whitewashed walls. Fans were turning overhead, and there was music playing somewhere…a Mozart opera.

  “The doc will see you now,” the nurse said brightly, as if he had booked an appointment weeks ago.

  There was another door at the far end, and they went through. Alex found himself in a sparsely furnished room—little more than a desk and two chairs. There was a screen to one side, a small fridge, and a cart with some bottles, a stethoscope, and a pair of scalpels. The window was open, with a view of the jetty from where they had just come.

  A man was sitting behind the desk, dressed not in a white coat but a turquoise open-neck shirt with the sleeves rolled up and jeans. He was in his forties, with thick blond hair and a craggy, weather-beaten face. He didn’t look like a doctor. He hadn’t shaved for a couple of days, and his hands were grubby. There was a glass of beer on his desk and an ashtray with a pile of stubs.

  “Good day, Alex.” He also spoke with an Australian accent. “Take a seat!”

  It wasn’t an invitation. It was a command.

  “I’m Bill Tanner. We’re going to be seeing a lot of each other over the next few weeks, so I might as well get a few things clear from the start. Fancy a beer?”

  “No,” Alex replied.

  “You’d better drink something anyway,” the nurse said. “You don’t want to get dehydrated.” She went over to the fridge and produced a bottle of mineral water. Alex didn’t touch it. He had already decided. He wasn’t going to play these people’s game.

  “How was the flight?” Tanner asked.

  Alex didn’t answer.

  The doctor shrugged. “You’re angry. That’s okay. I’d be pretty angry if I were in your shoes. But maybe you should have thought about the consequences before you took on the snakehead.”

  He leaned forward, and Alex knew, with a sense of revulsion, that he had had this conversation many times before. Alex wasn’t the first person to be brought unwillingly to this secret hospital. Others would have sat right where he was sitting now.

  “Let me tell you how this works,” Dr. Tanner began. “You’re going to die. I’m sorry to have to tell you that, but you might as well get used to it. We all have to die sometime, although for you it’s probably a little sooner than expected. But you have to look on the bright side. You’re going to be well looked after. We have a really qualified team here, and it’s in our interests to keep you going as long as possible. You’re going to have a lot of surgery, Alex. There are some bad days ahead. But you’ll come through…I know you will. We’ll help you to the finish line.”

  Alex glanced briefly at the cart, measuring the distance between himself and the scalpel. He thought about making a grab for it, using it as a weapon. But that wouldn’t help him. Better to take it with him, to find a use for it later. He realized that the doctor was waiting for him to reply. He answered with a single, ugly swearword. Tanner just smiled.

  “Your language is a little ripe, son,” he said. “But that’s all right. I’ve heard it all before.” He gestured out the window. “Now, you’re probably wondering how you can escape from here,” he went on. “You’ve seen the fence, and you’re thinking you can climb over it. Or maybe you’ve looked at the river and decided you can try swimming. It all looks pretty easy, doesn’t it? No TV cameras. Just the seven of us in the compound. Me, four nurses, Jacko, and Quombi. Not much security…that’s what you’re thinking.

  “Well, I’m sorry to tell you, mate. But you’re wrong. You go out at night and you’re going to have to reckon with Jacko’s dog. It’s a pit bull. His name is Spike, and he’s a nasty piece of work. He’ll rip you apart as soon as look at you. As for the fence, it’s electrified. Touch it and it’ll take you a week to wake up. And you’re not getting anywhere near the generator—not unless you know how to bite your way through razor wire—so you can forget about tampering with the current.

  “And even if you did manage to get out, it wouldn’t do you much good. We’re on the edge of the Kakadu National Park…two billion years old and as bad as the world was when it began. The start of Arnhem Land is about a mile from here, but that’s a mile of tropical rain forest, and you’d never find your way through. Assuming a death adder or a king brown didn’t get you, there are spiders, wasps, stinging nettles, biting ants, and—waiting for you on the other side—saltwater crocodiles.” He jerked a thumb. “There are a hundred ways to die out there, and all of them are more painful than anything we’ve got lined up for you here.

  “That leaves the river. Looks pretty tempting, doesn’t it? Well, there are no boats here. No canoes or kayaks or rafts or anything else you can get your hands on. We even keep the coffins locked up after one guy tried to bust out in one of those. You remember that, Charleen?”

  The nurse laughed. “He was using the lid as a paddle.”

  “But he didn’t get very far, Alex, and neither would you. Because this is the start of the storm season…what the Aboriginals call Gunumeleng. The water’s swollen and fast-moving. About ten minutes downriver you’ll hit the first rapids, and after that it just gets worse and worse. You try to swim, you’ll be cut to pieces on the rocks. You’ll almost certainly drown first. And waiting for you a mile downstream is the Bora Falls. A fifty-yard drop with a ton of water crashing down every minute. So do you get what I’m saying? You’re stuck here, mate, and that’s that.”

  Alex said nothing, but he was storing away everything Tanner was telling him. It was just possible that the doctor was giving away more than he realized. Outside the window, he heard a sudden whirring. The engine of the Piper had started again. He glanced out and saw the seaplane moving away from the jetty, preparing to take off.

  “We’re not going to lock you up, Alex,” Tanner went on. “The grub’s good, and if you want a beer, just help yourself. There’s no TV, but you can listen to the radio, and I think we’ve got a few books. The point I’m trying to make is—right now, you’re here as our guest. Soon you’ll be here as our patient, And after we’ve begun work, you won’t be going anywhere. But until then, I want you to take it easy.”

  “We have to watch your blood pressure,” the nurse muttered.

  “That’s right. And now, if
you don’t mind, I’d like you to roll up a sleeve so I can take a blood sample. It doesn’t matter which arm. I also want a urine sample. It looks to me like you’re pretty fit, but I need to get it all down on the computer.”

  Alex didn’t move.

  “It’s your choice, son,” Tanner said. “You cooperate or you don’t cooperate. But if you want to play hardball, I’ll have to call Jacko and Quombi in. They’ll rough you up a little and then they’ll tie you down and I’ll get what I want anyway. You don’t want that, do you? Make it easy on yourself…”

  Alex knew there was no point refusing. Although it made him sick, he allowed Tanner and the nurse to give him a thorough examination. They checked his reflexes, probed his eyes, ears, and mouth, weighed and measured him, and took the various samples. At last they let him go.

  “You’ve looked after yourself, Alex,” Tanner said. “For an English immigrant, you’re in great shape.” He was obviously pleased. “Your blood type is A positive,” he added. “That’s going to be an easy match.”

  It was as he was putting his clothes back on that he did it. Tanner was typing something into his computer. The nurse was looking over his shoulder. Alex was pulling on his shoes, leaning against the cart as if to support himself. He allowed one hand to cover the scalpel, then slid it sideways and dropped it into his pants pocket. He would have to walk very carefully for the next few minutes or he’d give himself a nasty cut. He just hoped nobody would notice what he had done.

  The nurse looked up and saw that he was dressed. “I’ll take you to your room,” she volunteered. “You should have a rest. We’ll bring you supper in about an hour.”

  The sun had already set. The sky was a deep gray with a streak of red like a fresh wound above the horizon. It had begun to rain, fat drops of water bursting one at a time along the ground.

  “There’s going to be another storm,” the nurse said. “I’d get tucked up and have an early night if I were you. And remember…stay indoors. The dog’s trained not to come into the buildings. I mean, this is a medical facility. But remember—take one step outside and he’ll go for you…and we don’t want you losing too much of that blood of yours, do we? Not at five hundred dollars a pint!”

  She left Alex alone in a small room on the ground floor with a bed, a table, and a single fan rotating in the center of the ceiling. In one corner, there was a heavy silver filing cabinet. Alex opened it, but there was nothing inside. A second door led into a small shower room, which also contained a toilet and a sink. Alex slid the scalpel out of his pocket and hid it inside the hanging roll of toilet paper. He didn’t know if he would have any use for it, but at least it made him feel better having taken it. Maybe these people weren’t quite as clever as they thought.

  He went back into the bedroom. A single window looked down to the lake. The Piper Super Cub had gone. Alex had watched it become nothing more than a speck in the sky at the same time as he was being examined.

  He sat down on the bed and tried to collect his thoughts. Only the day before he had been in Darwin, congratulating himself on what he had achieved, thinking that his mission was over. And now this! How could he have been so stupid? He wondered what was happening to Ash. He still didn’t understand why the two of them had been separated. If Yu knew that Ash was working for ASIS, why hadn’t he sent him here too? Alex was filled with a longing to see his godfather again. It made everything even worse being here alone.

  About an hour later, the door opened and a second nurse came in carrying a tray. She was dark-haired and slim and would have been pretty except that she had a broken nose that had set badly. She was younger than Charleen but equally welcoming.

  “I’m Isabel,” she said. “I’m going to be looking after you. I’ve got a room just past the stairs, halfway down the corridor, so if you need anything, just yell.”

  She set the tray down. Alex’s dinner consisted of steak and chips, fruit salad, and a glass of milk, but the sight of the food sickened him. He knew they were only building him up for what lay ahead.

  He noticed two pills in a plastic cup. “What are these?” he asked.

  “Just something to help you sleep,” Isabel replied. “Some of our patients have difficulty nodding off, especially the first couple of nights. And it’s important you get your rest.” She paused at the door. “You’re the youngest we’ve ever had,” she said, as if Alex wanted to know. “Leave the tray outside the door. I’ll pick it up later.”

  Alex picked at the food. He wasn’t hungry, but he knew he had to keep up his strength. Outside, the rain fell more heavily. It was the same tropical rain that he had experienced in Jakarta. He could hear it hammering against the roof and splashing into ever-widening puddles. There was a flicker of lightning, and for a couple of seconds he saw the rain forest, black and impenetrable. It seemed to have moved closer, as if it was trying to swallow him up.

  Later, somehow, he slept. He didn’t take off any of his clothes. He couldn’t bear to. He simply lay down on the bed and closed his eyes.

  When he opened them again, the first light of the morning was already slanting in. His clothes felt damp. His muscles ached. He lifted his wrist and examined the watch. The two hands were still set at eleven o’clock.

  Almost twenty-four hours had passed since he had called for help. He listened to the world outside. The harsh cry of some sort of bird. The rustle of the grasshoppers. The last drip of the water as it fell from the branches. There was nobody out there. MI6 hadn’t arrived yet, and Alex couldn’t fool himself any longer. Something had gone wrong. The watch wasn’t working. They never were going to come.

  18

  DEAD OF NIGHT

  TWO DAYS LATER, IN the afternoon, the Piper Super Cub returned.

  By now, Alex had fallen into a strange mood and one that he could barely understand. It was almost as if he had accepted his fate and could no longer find the strength or even the desire to escape it. He had met the two other women working at the hospital: Nurse Swaine and Nurse Wilcox, who had proudly told him that she would be his anesthetist. Nobody had been unkind to him. In a way, that was what made it all so nightmarish. They were always checking that he had food and water. Would he like something to read? Would he like to listen to some music? Soon, the very sound of their voices made his skin crawl, but he couldn’t break free of the feeling that they owned him and always would.

  But he hadn’t given up completely. He was still searching for a way out of this hideous trap. The river was impossible. There were no boats; nothing that would pass as a boat. He had followed the fence all the way around. There were no gaps, no convenient overhanging branches. He had considered blowing a hole in it. He still had the one coin that Smithers had given him. But the fence was connected to an electrical circuit. The guards would know instantly what he had done, and without a map, a compass, or a machete, Alex doubted he would be able to find a way through the rain forest.

  He thought about sending a radio message. He had seen the radio room in the administration building…it was neither locked nor guarded. He soon realized why. The radio transmitter was connected to a numeric keypad. You had to punch in a code to activate it. Major Yu really had thought of everything.

  Alex watched as the plane hit the surface of the lake and began a slow, lazy turn toward the jetty. He had been expecting it. Dr. Tanner had told him it would be coming the night before.

  “It’s your first customer, Alex,” he had said cheerfully. “A man called R. V. Weinberg. You may have heard of him.”

  As usual, Alex said nothing.

  “He’s a reality TV producer from Miami. Very successful. But he’s contracted a serious eye disease, and he needs two transplants. So it looks as if we’ll be starting with your corneas. We’ll operate first thing tomorrow morning.”

  Alex examined the American from a distance as he was helped out of the plane. Dr. Tanner had warned him not to approach or try to speak to the “customer.” It was one of the house rules. But looking at him, Alex foun
d himself filled with more hatred than he had ever felt for any human being.

  Weinberg was overweight in a soft, flabby way. He had curling gray hair and a face that could have been made of putty, with sagging cheeks and jowls. He was a millionaire, but he dressed shabbily, his gut pressing against his Lacoste shirt. But it wasn’t just his appearance that disgusted Alex. It was his selfishness, his complete lack of heart. Tomorrow Alex would be blind. This man would take his sight without thinking about it simply because it was what he wanted and he had the money to pay for it. Major Yu, Dr. Tanner, and the nurses were evil in their own way. But Weinberg, the successful businessman from Miami, made him physically sick.

  He waited until the man had disappeared into the house that had been prepared for him, then walked down to the edge of the lake. So this was it. He had just one night to make his escape. After that it really would be impossible.

  But the anger that Alex had felt had broken through his sense of helplessness. It had come like a slap in the face, and suddenly he was ready to fight back. These people thought he was helpless. They thought they’d covered everything. But they hadn’t noticed the missing scalpel. And there was something even more important that they’d overlooked—despite the fact that it was sitting there right in front of them.

  The plane.

  The pilot had climbed out, dragging a kit bag with him. It looked as if he was going to stay until Weinberg was ready to leave. Alex had no doubt that the Piper would be incapacitated, the engine closed down and the keys locked away. And Dr. Tanner would be fairly certain that no fourteen-year-old boy knew how to fly.

 

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