by Nick Hawkes
“If they’re holding her there, they’ll probably have a contingency plan to get rid of her before the police arrive.”
“That’s a risk we’ll just have to take.” Archie exhaled between his teeth. “Sheeesh.”
Benjamin held his hand up. “Lie still and don’t worry. I’ll sort the boat out and get things straightened out at this end.”
“Don’t do anything silly, Benji.”
Benjamin nodded and stood back to make room for Kate as she bustled back to them.
“Let’s see if we can sit him up,” she said without preamble. “I need to splint his arm.”
Between them, they managed to get Archie seated on the cool box. Kate told Benjamin to hold Archie’s right arm up out of the way while she wrapped some cling film around his torso, trapping the broken left arm to his side.
“You’ve done this before, Kate,” said Benjamin.
Kate guffawed. “I’m actually a doctor at Mona Vale hospital. Ironic, don’t you think?”
“I’m just glad you’re here.”
She nodded. “Let’s get him into your boat. It’s bigger. I’ll follow you in the tinny. That way, I’ll be able to get back.” She tested the firmness of the wrapping. “This should also keep him warm. I’ll go in the ambulance with him to the hospital.”
Benjamin tried to think of something to say. “Thanks. Um, I’ll tidy up here…and carry the box up to the house.”
Kate leaned back on her heels. “I’m so sorry about this. I’ve locked Fidget up inside a bedroom, so he won’t bother you.” She looked up at him. “You’ll find two bottles of beer in the fridge.”
It took just a few minutes for both boats to motor across the mouth of McCarrs Creek to Church Point. Ten minutes later, they could hear the whoop, whoop, wheeeeh of an ambulance. Archie was clammy and shivering by the time it arrived. Before Kate climbed into the back of it, Benjamin exchanged phone numbers with her. “Call me when you know something.”
She grimaced. “Saturday night at Accident and Emergency can get a bit busy. Getting him sorted may take a while.”
The ambulance drove off, leaving Benjamin in a storm of anguish—both for Archie as well as for Felicity. What on earth should he do now? What could he do? He tilted his head back and breathed in the night air, calming himself and forcing himself to think. The drama of the ambulance’s arrival had attracted the attention of the people dining under the awning of the Waterfront Café. He needed to get away as soon as he could and find solitude.
Benjamin made his way back to the Shark Cat and motored slowly across to the wide headwaters of McCarrs Creek. He passed the white ketch. It was just fifty meters away. So close. The rigid inflatable was no longer beside it, but there were some lights on, indicating that people were aboard. He checked his watch. It was only 8:30pm.
The question that he kept mulling over was: could he investigate whether Felicity was on board the ketch? Did he have the skills? More importantly, could he affect a rescue if she was there?
He moored the boat alongside the jetty and carried the cool box up to the house. It was heavy. No wonder Kate had been grateful for their help. The front door was unlocked, and the lights were on inside.
The dog barked.
Benjamin busied himself putting things away. He unpacked the cool box and put the perishable things into the fridge. He also emptied the contents of two shopping bags that Kate must have carried up earlier. After putting a bowl of water into the bedroom for the dog—and being licked enthusiastically for his trouble—he walked back down to the boat. The shrill screech of cicadas could be heard all around him. They were deafening. The males were calling for a mate.
And so was he.
He climbed on board the Shark Cat and switched on the cabin light. His attention was immediately drawn to Archie’s tool belt, sitting on the table.
He picked it up and weighed it thoughtfully in his hands.
Chapter 26
Benjamin felt like a stuffed turkey. He had put Archie’s wetsuit top on because of its large size. The extra space was to allow him to slip a pair of fins down his front. They had been trimmed slightly to make them fit alongside two suction handles.
He had switched the cabin lights off twenty minutes earlier, and Benjamin’s night vision was now fully established. It was time to go. He checked that Archie’s waterproof tool belt was secure for the third time. Any further delay would only allow his misgivings and fear the chance to scream at him again.
He rolled over the gunwale and into the water. When he surfaced, he peered around the stern of the Shark Cat to check his bearings. The ketch was just seventy meters away. He dived and kicked out through the inky blackness. He had put on his long free-diving fins in order to give him as much speed as possible. Surface stops had to be kept to a minimum; the last thing he wanted was to be spotted as he surfaced to catch his breath. The starlight twinkling in the wave-tops above him was the only thing giving him any perspective of depth. He kicked on into the unknown.
Benjamin surfaced for the fourth time in front of the bow of the ketch. He resisted the urge to hang on to the mooring chain. The slightest pressure on it could change the motion of the boat and be felt by those inside. He edged as near as he dared to the bow where he was least likely to be seen, and caught his breath.
Take your time. No heroics. Get comfortable.
The first thing to do was free himself of the mask and fins inside his wetsuit. He fastened a suction handle to the hull below the waterline, well back from the bow. Then he unzipped the top of his wetsuit, withdrew the fins and mask, and clipped them to the handle. Three minutes later, his own fins and weight belt were also hanging from the handle.
Benjamin was now more buoyant and able to float easily. He fished inside the tool belt for Archie’s infrared scanner and removed it from its waterproof bag. Tentatively, he switched it on. The screen blinked. He selected the infrared mode and watched as the screen color changed to deep blue. As he passed it over his arm, it showed red. It was working. Thank God. He held it above him between finger and thumb and began sweeping it over the surface of the hull, making his way slowly back from the bow.
From inside the hull, Benjamin could hear what sounded like a film being played, perhaps on a computer. Lots of noise. Good. However, he still needed to be quiet and only allow his finger and thumb to run over the surface of the hull.
He swept down a third of the length of the boat and dared not go closer to the main cabin. Nothing. The temptation to despair stabbed at him, but he kept it at bay by staying busy. He kicked his way back to the bow and around the other side, where he repeated the process.
About four meters from the bow, the screen’s blue-black face changed to yellow. Benjamin swept again. Yellow-orange. His heart started to pound. Was that Felicity? The thought of her possibly being just inches away, was almost more than he could bear. He wanted to pummel and rip his way through the hull to see her.
Impossible. Settle.
Benjamin reached inside his wetsuit top and retrieved the last suction cap. He fastened it just above the waterline. Then he unclipped his weight belt, extended its length, and clipped it around himself and the handle. Gradually, he allowed the belt to take his weight. No sudden movements.
All good—so far.
He felt into his tool belt and retrieved the tiniest hand-drill he’d ever seen. The drill bit was already in place, protected by a cork. Cold hands. Don’t drop it. He let the cork float free. Then, reaching up to where he judged the person’s head most likely was, he turned the handle and began to drill a two-millimeter hole into the perfectly finished mahogany hull. The drill bit was obviously very sharp, probably titanium. It was amazing how easily it cut through the wood. He turned the handle slowly. Keep it quiet.
The drill bit suddenly nudged forward. It had broken through. Benjamin withdrew it carefully and dropped the drill into the water. Its job was done. He put his hand on the suction handle and pushed down on it slowly, causing his head to
rise to the level of the hole. For a brief moment, he saw a pinprick of light. He put his lips to the hole and blew.
It might have been a kiss.
He had not been able to make the tiny endoscope camera work on the Shark Cat, so he’d abandoned it, greatly frustrated at his lack of technological competence. There was only one thing for it. He put his lips to the hole and whispered as loud as he dared, “Felicity.”
The noise was puzzling. Felicity opened her eyes and listened. The faintest of grunching sounds was coming from somewhere very close. Her world had become very small during the week of her imprisonment; she was acutely aware of everything going on within it. She put down her book and listened. The sound was coming from the hull, right beside her ear. She turned around just in time to see the end of a tiny drill bit break through the wood. It withdrew as quickly as it had appeared. She would have dismissed it as an optical illusion except for the fact that the hole was still there. As she watched, a tiny puff of wood dust blew into the cabin. She held her breath. What did it mean? She put her ear close to the hole and listened.
And then she heard it: “Felicity.”
She was in shock. At last! Rescue! And not only rescue but Benjamin himself. How was that possible? The yearning she had suppressed for so many days suddenly broke out. She placed a hand against the hull, trying to feel him, and whispered, “Benjamin.”
Too loud! Keep quiet, for goodness’ sake! She bit her lips and listened in terror for any response from Carter or the odious Eddie.
Silence. Just the gentle slap, slap, slap of the wavelets against the hull and the sound of a film being watched in the saloon. Thank God.
Felicity pressed her ear against the tiny hole and heard two taps on the hull. She tapped once in return. Then she heard Benjamin’s voice again: “Escape hatch. Escape hatch.”
She tapped once and whispered, “Padlock. Padlock. Padlock.”
Two faint taps.
Pause.
Another two taps—barely audible from even a few inches away. She pressed her ear closely in time to hear, “Saw. Saw. Saw.”
What could he mean? There was no saw. Felicity closed her eyes and clenched her fists. It was unbearable. How…“Ouch!” She felt the prick of something sharp poke her ear lobe. Jerking her head away, she turned to see a long piece of wire being poked through the hole. She tentatively took hold of it and felt it rasp between her fingers.
It was a saw! Somehow, this piece of wire was a saw. Extraordinary. With rising hope, she pulled the wire through. It slid through the hole with a faint ‘zip’ sound.
Felicity looked up at the padlock anchoring the security bar across the hatch entrance. If she cut the steel tang with the saw, it would cause too much noise, and she would be found out.
She heard footsteps…and froze. Felicity had become an expert in identifying the footsteps of Carter and Eddie. These ones belonged to Carter. She looked at her watch. Yes, Carter would be going into the main cabin for his evening shower. It was part of his routine. Eddie showered in the morning after the speedboat arrived with the other man who stood guard for the day.
With her heart in her mouth, Felicity called out, “Carter.”
The footsteps stopped. “Yes?”
“I’m going to be cleaning the stone for a while—scraping it with a spatula. Tell me if the sound disturbs you too much.”
Pause. “Oh. Right. Thank you.”
She heard Carter open the door into his cabin.
The padlock hung above her, teasing her. Somehow, she had to cut its steel tang without causing the hull to vibrate like a drum. She needed to deaden the sound. What could she use? She glanced around.
Nothing.
Then her eye fell on the rubber tube running from the spout of the kettle to the box containing the vellum. She disconnected it, cut off a thirty-centimeter length with a pair of nail clippers, and wedged the rubber between the padlock tang and the U-bolt to which it was fastened.
As she sat down to survey her work, she heard the rhythmic pulse of the water pump delivering water to Carter’s shower. There was no time to lose.
She threaded the wire saw across the tang and started to pull it back and forth. It was a mistake. Within a few seconds, her fingers were raw. She needed a handle for each end of the wire saw.
Felicity cut off two small lengths of rubber tubing and wrapped each of them around the ends of the wire saw.
Much better.
She applied herself to the job once more, being careful to keep her sawing erratic, as if she really was scraping the Atlantis stone.
After five minutes, she had barely cut through a quarter of the metal. Disturbingly, she heard Carter’s shower stop. She would have to be even more careful now.
Felicity reasoned that Benjamin would have his ear pressed to the side of the hull and be hearing everything. How long could he wait? She had no idea. Anxiety washed over her. She fought to keep it under control, and reapplied herself to the job.
Her arms were now getting very tired. She thanked God that she had maintained her fitness. Even so, she needed regular breaks during which she lay down on her bunk. When she did, she listened for Benjamin through the hull—but heard nothing. He was being very quiet. Was he still there? She desperately hoped so.
Felicity gave herself a longer rest when she had reached halfway, and then another when she had cut through three-quarters of the metal. She had to retie the rubber tubing a few times, but she now felt she was on the home straight.
The agonizing minutes dragged by. Then, suddenly, she broke through. She had done it!
Felicity undid the rubber tubing, eased the broken tang sideways, and removed the padlock. It was a good feeling. She placed the padlock and the retaining bar under her pillow, then crossed over to the tiny hole and knocked twice.
A faint answering knock came back immediately. How was that possible? She looked at her watch. The cutting of the padlock had taken thirty-five minutes. How could anyone stay in the water with their ear pressed to the side of the hull for that length of time? She wanted to laugh, to cry out, “I did it! I did it!” But instead, she said, “Done. Done. Done…I love you.”
There was a pause. She heard something but couldn’t understand it. She pressed her ear closer.
Then she heard it.
“Marry me. Marry me. Marry me.”
She put her hand to her breast and caught her breath. Did he say…? Yes, he did…he really did. Her head began to spin in a dizzy whirl. Benjamin was crazy. She put her hand on the hull wall in an effort to reach him…to tell him what she felt, that he had transformed her life, that she had never felt so loved and honored, that he was so extraordinary, so special…so beautifully, uniquely special. Without stopping to think, she put her lips to the tiny hole and whispered. “Yes, yes, yes. A thousand times yes.”
There was a moment’s silence.
“Wait, wait, wait.”
Uggh. Horrible words. Hateful words. She slapped the hull in frustration. Her eyes welled with tears. She rolled over and pressed herself against the hull, visualizing him on the other side, aching for him…and listened.
Felicity felt the slightest of lurches, as if a wave, bigger than the other waves, had nudged the bow.
But all she heard was silence.
Benjamin pushed up on the suction handle and gripped a stanchion that held up the wire guardrails. He pulled himself up, slid under the lower wire, and lay flat against the foredeck. A flickering of light through the front windows of the main saloon told him that a film was still being watched. He glanced up. Fortunately, the canvas awning over the deck was keeping the foredeck in front of the main mast very dark. It was unlikely that he would be seen. He edged over to the wooden coaming of the forward hatch. Could it be true that Felicity—his fiancée!—was just underneath it? He closed his eyes. The thought felt wonderful. Above all, it felt right.
But, time enough for that later—if indeed there was to be a ‘later’—for they were both still in real pe
ril.
Benjamin reached over, held his breath, and pulled open the Perspex hatch cover. It opened with a squeak of its rubber gasket.
And there she was, looking up at him. Smiling. Love dancing in her eyes. She reached up to him.
Benjamin put a finger to his lips then swung himself over the hatchway and lowered himself to the floor.
Her arms were around him instantly.
Benjamin held her to him, desperately trying to make himself believe she was really in his arms. He entangled his fingers in her hair as she tilted her head and searched for his lips. A small mewing sound escaped her as they kissed. Her lips were warm and moist. “Yes,” she whispered again, as he drew back and searched her eyes.
She felt so good. The love and feminine sexuality she exuded were electric. Benjamin shook his head in bewilderment that anyone like her could love him. His hands ran slowly down her neck, caressing her shoulders, then down her side, following her contours until he was holding her waist.
She held him behind his neck, arched her neck back, and pressed him to her breasts.
A small sob escaped him as he felt her warmth. He moved his hands, feeling her…protecting…discovering. She loved him. It was more than he could bear.
Slowly, the reality of their dire situation ebbed back into Benjamin’s consciousness. He lifted his head. Felicity pressed a finger against his lips and whispered, “Two men. One psychopath…armed…in the saloon. The other…in the main cabin.”
Benjamin stood up and nodded. He unzipped his wetsuit top and handed it to her. For a moment, she ignored it and reached out to put a hand on his chest, feeling its wetness. Smiling a secret smile, she took the wetsuit top. Felicity began to strip off her blouse and jeans. Benjamin’s instincts for propriety caused him to turn away.
