Red Centre

by Chris Ryan

  ‘Hex is back and being debriefed,’ said Amber. She cracked her knuckles together, limbering up for work. ‘Think how annoyed he’ll be if we crack these codes without him.’

  ‘OK,’ grinned Li. ‘I’ll read them out, see if they make sense that way. Y-D-C-L-B-I-K-N-V-R-C-T-R – that’s the first; and S-Y-D-C-L-B-F-T-N-S-T-R-C-T-R. Not exactly clear, is it?’

  Paulo picked up Li’s pencil and started writing one of them out backwards, then scribbled it out. ‘No, he wouldn’t be deliberately trying to make them difficult.’

  ‘I knew Alex’s spelling was bad,’ said Li gloomily, ‘but . . .’

  ‘The question is,’ said Amber, ‘is it his spelling that’s bad, or his Morse?’

  ‘If it is both, we are really in trouble,’ said Paulo.

  Li picked up the pencil again. ‘Why don’t I try writing the letters in a circle, like when you solve an anagram—’

  Paulo shook his head. ‘No, Li, you’re barking up the wrong tree. The solution has to be simple. He wants to be understood, not to set us challenges.’

  Amber sat back and let out a sigh. ‘Maybe it’s Nurthumbrian,’ she said, attempting an imitation of Alex’s accent. She was fed up that they were getting nowhere.

  ‘Nor’oom’rian,’ corrected Li.

  Paulo had to laugh. Li’s attempt to mimic Alex was uncannily accurate.

  ‘Listen, guys, this is serious,’ said Amber.

  ‘Both these messages look similar,’ said Paulo. ‘I think they are the same message, repeated.’

  ‘It might still be rubbish, though,’ said Amber. ‘A warning to tell us not to let Pirroni know his father’s a soldier. Like clearing your throat to stop someone saying something tactless.’

  ‘That’s possible, but I think it’s more than mere throat-clearing,’ said Paulo. He frowned as he looked at the message again. Then his expression changed. ‘Wait a minute . . . Suppose it was a text message. Look at the second one.’

  Li’s face became more animated. ‘Aha,’ she said, and began to scribble under the letters. ‘It’s about his father, right? D must be “Dad”. Could it be “Say Dad”?’

  ‘That’s good,’ said Paulo. ‘He’s probably left the vowels out, so . . . that last bit could be “instructor”—’

  ‘Brilliant,’ said Li, and wrote it down.

  Paulo frowned. ‘But what is a “clb ft instructor”?’

  ‘Club foot?’ said Amber absently, and immediately shook her head. Then she banged the table triumphantly. ‘Got it! The last bit could be “fit instructor”. And I bet C-L-B is “celeb” because he’d have to say something to fit in with all the other contestants. It’s “celebrity fitness instructor”!’

  Li was on her feet and snatching up the piece of paper. ‘I’ll get this to Sergeant Powell straight away. It could get Alex out of trouble.’ She opened the door and jumped out.

  ‘But what about this?’ Paulo pointed to the other version.

  Amber was on a roll. ‘That was his first attempt, wasn’t it? And it looks similar. When I was doing Morse I kept getting the timing wrong. You have to leave a space of one unit – a second or whatever of silence – to indicate a new letter, otherwise they run together and you get different letters. One thing I remember is that if you don’t put a space between S and T, you get V, and if you put F and T together you can get I and K. If you compare the first message and the second . . .’

  Paulo was already with her: ‘. . . and if you leave the S off the beginning, they’re the same!’

  Amber folded her arms and let her head fall forwards onto them. ‘That was like pulling teeth,’ she groaned. ‘Next time, we’ll let Hex do it, OK?’

  ‘First of all let’s check you haven’t been bitten by anything,’ said Sergeant Powell. ‘Come with me.’ He led Hex towards the ambulance.

  For Hex, it was such a relief to be walking on solid surfaces like tarmac, and to be surrounded by light. He no longer had to be careful of whispering dark leaves and scuttling creatures.

  He had emerged from the jungle onto the road, straight into the police cordon. He had stood there, dazzled by the searchlights, while they decided he must be an escaped contestant. A policeman had escorted him, with great excitement, to the SAS camp. For the moment Hex had no objections to being treated like a returning hero, but then he thought of Alex, still in the forest. The knowledge that he had left him there returned like a bitter taste.

  Sergeant Powell opened the back door of the green ambulance and showed Hex in. Hex climbed up and sat gratefully on one of the stretchers. When he touched the soft surface his brain seemed to stop and beg for sleep. He felt exhausted.

  Sergeant Powell closed the door. He looked at Hex and said, ‘Well done.’

  ‘Is it working?’

  The sergeant nodded. ‘It’s working.’

  Hex peeled his palmtop off his shirt sleeve. Its screen bore the trace of the route he had taken back to civilization. ‘You know you couldn’t get snipers in because the cameras would see you? You can now.’ With his finger he traced his route – a wiggly line like the outline of a jigsaw puzzle, and then a fairly straight line. ‘This straight bit is clear of the night-vision cameras. You can get men to here without being seen.’

  ‘And then what?’

  ‘You turn on the spotlights.’ Despite his exhaustion, Hex managed a grin. ‘I got away because the spotlights in the main camp came on. They wiped out the cameras’ night vision. If you can do that, you can get to within forty metres of the control room.’

  Sergeant Powell nodded. ‘That’s close enough for the snipers. How do we turn on the lights?’

  ‘They’re motion triggered.’

  Sergeant Powell clenched his fist as his excitement mounted. ‘So we can drop something in by parachute . . .’

  Hex picked up on his wavelength. ‘It’s got to be quite big. They were set so they wouldn’t come on just for a small animal.’

  Sergeant Powell was already moving. He stepped out of the ambulance, talking to Hex over his shoulder. ‘He’s asked for water. I’ll get the negotiator to tell him we’re dropping it in by parachute. I’ll scramble a floatplane from HQ.’ He paused before he walked away and added, ‘Stay there. You need to be examined. You’d better drink some water too.’

  There was a heavy thump outside. Alex woke with a start. On either side of him Holly and Zoe jumped as though electrocuted. Zoe grabbed him, he grabbed Holly. They all stared at each other in shock.

  Pirroni was immediately out on the veranda. There was a shot. The camp lights came on.

  Alex was surrounded by screaming, terrified faces. It was like a painting of hell. Eyes were wide and pleading for mercy. Hands were grabbing flesh as though holding onto another person would keep them alive.

  Then the screaming subsided and became a frightened silence. Outside was silent too.

  Alex took a deep breath and calmed himself. ‘Shhh,’ he said. He cautiously raised himself to his knees and peered out of the window.

  ‘What is it?’ said Sarah.

  Alex looked back at her. ‘It’s a big crate on a parachute.’

  He heard Pirroni come back towards the door and sat down rapidly. The terrorist came in. The whole room held its breath. Each of the hostages flinched as he looked at them. After a moment he pointed at Woody Brasher. ‘You. Come here.’

  In the monitoring room Murphy and Sergeant Powell watched as Pirroni limped awkwardly down the steps. Woody Brasher walked in front of him. His face looked ashen against his dark hair.

  The crate had landed in the middle of the camp. The parachute was floating down in clouds of white nylon. Pirroni put his gun to Woody’s back and nudged him towards the crate. The captive obeyed, moving in a stilted way, as though operated by remote control.

  The SAS men watched the screen as Pirroni and Woody retrieved the water supplies, then went back up the stairs into the control room.

  Ten seconds after the lights came on, a message came through on the secure audio fr
equency: ‘Snipers in position.’

  Paulo put his head round the door of the ambulance. ‘Hex, there you are!’

  ‘What are you doing on your own in here?’ said Amber.

  Hex was rubbing his eyes. He’d dozed off. Was Sergeant Powell back? His three friends were peering at him from the doorway. Not four? Why no Alex? Then he remembered.

  He shifted into a sitting position. His neck was stiff. ‘I’m waiting for a medical. They’re worried I might have got bitten by something while I was crawling around in the dark.’

  ‘Quite right too,’ said Paulo, and climbed in. ‘Often you don’t realize you’ve been bitten by a snake until later when you swell up. Do you feel sick, or do you itch anywhere?’ He tilted Hex’s head back and looked into his pupils.

  Hex, still groggy, allowed himself to be moved around like a doll. ‘No, but I could do with some sleep.’

  Paulo’s voice was firm. ‘Examination first. Sleep later. Take off your shirt.’

  Hex was about to shake him off. This was too much. Then he thought about the numerous snakes he’d encountered. Perhaps it was a good idea after all. He began to undo his shirt buttons.

  ‘Paulo, do you know how to check for snake bites?’ Li asked from the doorway. Her voice was sceptical.

  Paulo picked up Hex’s arm and began inspecting. ‘I used to check the horses and cattle on the ranch.’

  ‘They’re not quite like people,’ said Li.

  Paulo grinned. ‘People are a lot easier because they are less hairy.’

  ‘Some are,’ said Amber dubiously. ‘Look at that chest.’

  Hex knew he should insult her in return, but he didn’t have the energy. He was weary to his very soul. All he could think about was how he had left Alex to be taken hostage. He looked around at all the grinning faces. They all seemed pleased to see him, but what did they really think of him for coming back alone?

  An unmistakable noise drifted in on the night breeze. ‘Hey,’ said Amber, ‘was that a plane?’ She turned and looked up.

  ‘It must be the SAS returning from their supply drop,’ said Hex. ‘It was cover to get some snipers in.’

  Li was looking in the direction of the plane. ‘I think I can see its lights. Where’s it landing?’

  Paulo looked at Hex. He sensed he needed to talk one to one, but how was he going to get rid of the others? He put his hand on the ambulance doors. ‘The next part of the examination, girls, is not for your eyes. Hex, get your trousers off.’ He closed the doors gently but firmly.

  ‘Meanie,’ said Amber to the closed doors.

  ‘Boys’ talk,’ sighed Li.

  The crash tents formed ghostly peaks beyond the ambulance. Amber suddenly realized how tired she was. ‘There’s nothing more we can do at the moment,’ she yawned. ‘I’m going to turn in while we’ve got the chance. That’s if I can find a tent that doesn’t contain a soldier snoring his boots off.’

  ‘OK. I’m not tired yet but I’ll be along in a bit,’ said Li.

  In the ambulance, Paulo fixed his eyes on Hex. ‘So,’ he said, ‘you’re a complete coward because you ran off and left Alex.’

  Hex looked stunned. ‘What?’

  ‘That’s what you’re saying to yourself. Just listen to how it sounds when I say it. That’s not the whole story, is it? There’s more to it than that.’

  Hex nodded. ‘I suppose you’re right, but—’

  ‘But nothing.’ Paulo was adamant. ‘It wouldn’t have done any good for you to get caught too. You know that. Then we would have been two men down. As it was, you got out with vital information. And we’re going to save Alex too, OK?’

  ‘You’re right,’ said Hex. ‘I’m tired; I wasn’t thinking straight.’

  ‘We’re all tired,’ said Paulo. He smiled, relieved that his shock therapy had snapped Hex out of it. ‘Let’s get some sleep so we can tackle this fresh in the morning.’

  Li didn’t feel tired. She went up the road and a little way into the darkness beyond the arc lights, jogging as the cold of the jungle night hit her. On one side the shadowy trees disappeared and in their place was the lake, a silvery slick of water stretching into the black distance. Two rows of lights were strung along the shore to make an aquatic landing strip. The plane bobbed gently between the lights, tethered near the road. Two soldiers were loading it with supplies.

  Why was that, she wondered? Could Pirroni have asked for it?

  Li sat down and watched them. She saw a crate of water bottles go in, then the soldier stepped out of the cabin carrying a box of equipment. So they were removing things too. That definitely suggested someone might be taking it away. The two soldiers climbed up the bank and walked back towards the camp.

  Li went closer, stepping carefully down the bank and peered into the cabin. It was empty. Cautiously she climbed in. A little illumination came from the landing lights along the shore. The plane was about the size of the ambulance inside, with shadowy bunks along each side, their lids propped open. The pallet of water bottles stood on the floor. There was more than enough for one person. The plane was quite big, too. That could only mean he was going to take the hostages with him.

  She went closer to one of the bunks and inspected it. There was a blanket in the bottom, and enough room for someone small to hide. An idea came to her suddenly. If she could stow away, maybe she could help Alex and the hostages.

  She climbed carefully out of the plane and jogged back to find the others. First stop was the ambulance. She put her ear to the cold metal of the door. All was quiet; Hex and Paulo were no longer talking. Cautiously, she pushed it open.

  Paulo was sitting up, but asleep, his head lolling to one side. It looked as though he would have a painful stiff neck in the morning. Hex’s feet were visible on the other side of him. Li peered in further. The hacker was curled in a foetal position, his face buried in his arms. They both were deeply asleep.

  She closed the door quietly. Maybe Amber was still awake. She went to the nearest tent, pulled aside the canvas flap and put her head in.

  The first thing she noticed was a fuggy smell of sweaty bodies and hot-dog halitosis. There were five camp beds, two of them containing bodies. One looked small enough to be Amber, although its head was buried in the pillow. As Li looked it turned over, revealing Amber’s ebony features. She mumbled quietly and put her arm over her forehead. She was obviously deeply asleep too.

  Li pulled her head out again and went to sit on the ambulance steps. Her brain was buzzing. Should she wake the others to discuss it? They were all obviously very tired. The plane only had room for one stowaway and that person had to be as small as possible. If she did discuss it they would agree that it had to be her. She could just go ahead anyway. But should she, without consulting them? They were a team and it wasn’t very professional. On the other hand, they might lose the chance if she didn’t act now . . .

  That decided it. She took a notepad and pen out of her shirt pocket and scribbled a message: ‘I’ve gone with the plane to help the hostages – Li’.

  She crept into the tent and crossed to Amber’s sleeping form. She knelt by the head of the bed. Amber didn’t stir, but breathed deeply and steadily. This confirmed to Li that she was doing the right thing. If Paulo and Hex were like that too it would take a good ten or twenty minutes to get them all awake and able to make a decision. She tucked the message under Amber’s pillow and made her way out.

  The cool night air refreshed her after the stale air of the tent. She set off for the plane.

  14

  ESCAPE

  The tent smelled stale. Light filtered through the green canvas, making everything look ghostly. The bed was a simple piece of canvas, like a hammock in an oblong frame, but Amber felt brighter and more rested now. She checked the time: it was nearly six o’clock. Four other beds were set up in a row along the tent and all of them were empty. Li must be up already.

  Amber felt under the bed for her belt pouch and injected her morning dose of insulin. The pillo
w moved and dislodged Li’s note. It fluttered to the floor unseen.

  Amber pulled her boots on. Next task was to find breakfast. If the catering lorry wasn’t up and running, she’d go and make something herself.

  Outside there was a new arrival. A tanker painted in army camouflage was parked in the middle of the road, its engine running. A thick black pipe led out of its side and snaked onto the road; the paraffin smell of aviation fuel wafted towards her. A soldier was standing beside a panel on the chassis, monitoring the fuel delivery. ‘G’day,’ he said to Amber.

  ‘Hi there,’ she smiled back.

  Curious, she followed the pipe. It ran off the road through the trees, down the bank by the lake, dipped into the water for a metre or so and emerged to hook into the fuel inlet of a blue and white seaplane. ‘So that’s where it landed,’ said Amber. The craft looked like a delicate bird, its slender body supported by four struts and resting on two white floats.

  Her stomach rumbled. She turned back. ‘Breakfast,’ she said to herself firmly.

  Sergeant Powell hurried past her, then hesitated and turned round. He spoke rapidly. ‘We got back to the target with your decode of your mate’s message, so he should be in the clear. Well done! However, last night Pirroni changed his demands. He wants a plane immediately. So Alex might soon be out anyway.’ Then he called to the soldier at the refuelling lorry. ‘I want the plane marked so we can spot it from the ground.’

  ‘Very good, sir.’

  Amber spotted Hex and Paulo just emerging from their tents and jogged over to tell them the news. ‘Oh,’ said Hex. ‘Is Li not with you?’

  ‘Haven’t you seen her?’ asked Amber. ‘She must be in the other tent.’ In the green gloom she saw four canvas beds. One had an occupant but it was much too big to be Li.

  ‘I looked in the other one and she’s not there either,’ said Paulo. ‘Where can she be?’

  ‘Maybe she’s helping with breakfast,’ said Amber, glaring at him. ‘Hint.’