Masa crumpled to his knees. Maddox manoeuvred two wooden chairs off a stack and placed them side by side. ‘Sit,’ he said.
Charlie slouched on one chair while Captain Maddox lifted Masa awkwardly into the other. Masa groaned and slid sideways onto the floor.
‘Slippery little bugger,’ hissed Maddox. He reached into a nearby set of drawers and retrieved a coil of thin rope. Hauling Masa into a sitting position, Maddox lashed his wrists to the back of the chair and his ankles firmly to the legs. Masa’s head slumped forwards, but the ropes kept him more or less upright.
Still gripping the revolver, Captain Maddox sidled around behind Charlie and tied him up in the same way. Stepping back to admire his handiwork, he placed the gun on a large wooden desk behind him. Then he picked up Charlie’s backpack. ‘What have we got here?’ he said, undoing the buckles and reaching inside. ‘A torch, a blunt machete, a filthy old slingshot, and –’ He dropped the bag and let out a shriek.
Masa raised his head. ‘Judy,’ he whispered.
Judy had sunk her teeth into the captain’s middle finger, holding on gamely as Maddox shook his arm like it was on fire. Finally he gave an almighty flick and Judy went flying across the room, bouncing against the diving helmet before thudding to the floor.
‘Vermin!’ spat Maddox. He strode over to Judy and lifted one of his army boots.
‘Judy, run!’ yelled Charlie.
Captain Maddox stamped his heel down, but Judy scuttled out of the way just in time. Maddox stomped again, and again Judy dodged his boot, dashing between his legs. Captain Maddox hopped around the room, his foot going up and down like a piston as Judy darted and weaved across the tiled floor.
Finally, Judy vanished behind a set of shelves laden with loot. Maddox picked up the Fighting Stingrays’ slingshot and hurled it after her. But Judy had already disappeared, and the wooden slingshot only succeeded in knocking a large crystal vase off the shelf, where it smashed on the floor.
‘Hideous animal,’ said Captain Maddox, sucking his injured finger. Charlie allowed himself a quiet smile – at least Judy wasn’t giving up without a fight.
Maddox sat behind the desk, grumbling noisily.
He opened a drawer, pulled out a brown glass bottle and poured a yellowish liquid over the bite. Then he fished out a white cloth bandage and began wrapping it around his finger, taking great care with every loop. The whole process took about ten minutes, by which time Masa had slumped back into unconsciousness.
‘Good thing it wasn’t my trigger finger,’ muttered Captain Maddox. He leaned back in his chair, took a pipe out of his pocket and started filling it with tobacco. ‘Well, Master Napier,’ he said. ‘You’re about to find out what happens to traitors.’
Seeing Judy stand up to Maddox made Charlie determined to do the same. ‘You’re the traitor!’ he snapped. ‘Stealing from people who have run for their lives. You should be in prison.’
Maddox leered, one side of his moustache rearing up like an angry caterpillar. ‘It’s fair payment for protecting the country,’ he said. ‘Or would you rather we left it all for the Japs to take?’
‘They’re already here,’ Charlie said. ‘I saw a submarine near Gecko Island yesterday.’
Captain Maddox tilted his head. ‘You were still on Gecko?’
Charlie nodded.
Captain Maddox raised both eyebrows. ‘Then I must compliment you on your hiding skills. You certainly had my men fooled. If only you weren’t so determined to help the enemy, you’d make a fine soldier one day.’ He took a matchbook out of his pocket. ‘We’ve been hearing reports of Jap subs in the Strait for months. They lurk about like the cowards they are, but they’re too scared to mount a real attack.’
‘So what are you going to do with us?’ asked Charlie.
Captain Maddox struck a match and held it to his pipe, sucking at the stem until it was well lit. Then he tossed the match into a pearl-shell ashtray that Charlie recognised as belonging to his father. ‘Well,’ said Maddox, exhaling a lungful of grey smoke. ‘Naturally, I’ll be disposing of your chum here just as soon as I can. The only good Jap is a dead Jap, remember?’
Charlie wrenched at the ropes around his wrists. ‘That’s murder!’ he cried.
‘Rubbish,’ said Captain Maddox. ‘I’m doing the country a favour. The whole world, in fact. The fewer of these snivelling, deceitful swine left alive, the better.’
Charlie gritted his teeth. ‘If you kill Masa, you’ll go to prison,’ he said. ‘I’ll tell the police.’
‘You’ll do no such thing,’ said Maddox, calmly.
‘Corpses can’t talk, and you’ve been dead for well over a month.’
‘What?’ said Charlie.
Maddox took a slow draw of his pipe and placed it carefully on the desk. He reached over and slid open his top drawer, shuffling through a few papers before pulling out a newspaper clipping. Then he stood up, sauntered over to Charlie and dangled the paper in front of his face:
TI Boy Missing, Presumed Drowned
CAIRNS, Monday. A Thursday Island boy is missing and believed drowned after falling from a ship evacuating civilians from the island.
Charles Napier, 12, boarded the Ormiston last week with his family, but was missing from the ship by the time it docked in Cairns. The boy’s father, Robert Napier, told reporters it was likely Charles had slipped and fallen from the vessel. ‘My wife and I can only pray that Charlie managed to swim ashore somewhere,’ said the visibly upset Mr Napier. ‘I can’t think what we’d do without our son.’
However, no trace of the boy has been recovered, and authorities say they have no choice but to presume him dead.
Charlie was astonished – it sounded like his father had been genuinely sad to find him gone. But that wasn’t the most astonishing part of what he’d just read.
‘I’m dead?’ Charlie said.
Captain Maddox smirked. ‘Officially, yes,’ he said.
‘I knew you weren’t, of course, but I saw no reason to correct that mistake. And frankly, I don’t see any reason to now.’
‘But I’m alive,’ said Charlie.
Captain Maddox slunk back to his desk and picked up the revolver.
‘Not for long, my boy,’ he said. ‘You’ve been aiding and abetting an enemy of Australia, and that makes you just as bad as them.’
‘I wasn’t helping an enemy,’ Charlie’s voice suddenly sounded very small. ‘I was helping my friend.’
Captain Maddox raised the revolver towards Charlie. ‘You might as well be selling secrets to the Nazis as far as I’m concerned. If there’s one thing I hate more than a Jap, it’s a traitor.’ He cocked the gun with a click.
This was it – Maddox was actually going to kill him. Charlie tried to protest, but no sound came out – his mouth just opened and closed like a fish dying on the jetty.
‘Any final words?’ said Captain Maddox, his finger gliding around the trigger.
Charlie looked the captain square in the eye. He was terrified, but there was no way he was going to let Maddox see that.
He suddenly found his voice. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Go marry a goat.’
Then he closed his eyes and waited.
Instead of a loud bang, Charlie heard three sharp knocks at the door. He prised one eye open a fraction of an inch as Captain Maddox sighed and lowered the revolver before striding over to unlock it.
‘Look what I found,’ said Sergeant Livingston, pulling Alf into the room by one ear. ‘Caught him climbing out of a window at the hospital, bold as you like.’
‘Get off, you big galoot,’ Alf grunted, thrashing around.
Captain Maddox smiled. ‘Excellent work, Sergeant,’ he said. ‘Tie him up with these other two.’
‘I can do better than that,’ Livingston crowed, taking out a pair of metal bracelets linked by a chain. ‘Got these handcuffs from the army coppers.’
Alf stayed silent as the sergeant dragged him towards a thick steel pipe in the corner of the room and quickly
cuffed his arms behind it. Alf struggled for a moment, then slid down to the floor with a thud, his back against the pipe.
Captain Maddox regarded his prisoners and nodded approvingly, and Sergeant Livingston noticed the gun in Maddox’s hand for the first time. ‘Sir,’ he frowned. ‘You never said anything about shooting kids.’
Captain Maddox gave an astonished laugh. ‘I would never,’ he said.
‘He would!’ said Charlie. ‘He was about to shoot me when you came in.’
‘What rot,’ said Maddox.
Sergeant Livingston glanced at Charlie, then back at his captain. He shrugged. ‘Of course, sir,’ he said. He gave the handcuff key to Captain Maddox, who slipped it into his shirt pocket.
Sergeant Livingston headed for the door and stopped with his hand on the doorknob. ‘By the way, you’re needed up at HQ. There’s been some sort of chatter on the radio. Some American planes coming through tomorrow as well.’
Maddox tapped his foot. ‘Do they need me right now?’
‘I believe so, sir.’
Maddox sighed heavily. Hoisting the Fighting Stingrays’ backpack over one shoulder, he followed Sergeant Livingston to the door, then turned and waved his revolver around the room. ‘I’m looking forward to continuing our conversation later, Charles,’ he said quietly. ‘You too, Alfred.’ He flashed them a glare of pure hatred and backed out, slamming the door behind him.
The soldiers’ footsteps faded away towards the front of the shop and onto the street.
Charlie tugged at the ropes binding his arms to the chair. But Maddox had tied them well, and Charlie only succeeded in digging the rough cords deeper into his wrists.
Alf raised his head. ‘He’s going to do us in, isn’t he?’
‘Looks like it,’ Charlie said bleakly.
‘I got the quinine before Livingston grabbed me. It’s in my pocket.’
‘Fat lot of good that does us,’ muttered Charlie, giving the ropes around his wrist another futile wrench.
There was a scratching sound, and a furry brown ball emerged from behind a large wooden wireless. Judy didn’t seem any worse for wear after her encounter with Captain Maddox. She scurried around the wireless and across the floor, stopping to sniff Charlie’s left foot. That’s when Charlie had a brilliant idea – Judy could chew through the ropes around his wrists!
‘Up here, Judy,’ he called.
Judy tilted her head and stared at Charlie. Her pink ears twitched and her whiskers quivered.
‘Come on, girl,’ said Charlie, making a kissing noise. ‘Come up here and help me out.’
Judy sneezed. Then she scampered across the tiles and up Masa’s leg. Seconds later, she was curled up in his lap, asleep.
‘Useless animal,’ muttered Charlie.
‘He should have got a dog instead,’ said Alf.
The Fighting Stingrays sat in silence for a long time. Masa was still unconscious, his head dangling over his knees, while Charlie and Alf were simply too dejected to say anything.
Charlie gazed at the piles of loot around him and ground his teeth until his face hurt. The whole war was one big rort. He’d always thought the Australians and the British and the Americans were the goodies, and the Japanese and the Germans were the baddies. That’s how it was on the newsreels, and when they were mucking around at Fort Bugalugs or the Canyon. But now it seemed like everyone on both sides was killing and looting and locking up people who didn’t deserve it. Even Biggles killed hundreds of people in his books, but because they were German he was a hero instead of a murderer.
Maybe when it came to war, everyone was a baddie. Then again, there were still plenty of good people out there. Like Ern, who was always kind to Masa despite him being the ‘enemy’. Or Bill, who’d signed up to fight for Australia even though his people had got a pretty raw deal so far. Or like Alf and Masa, trussed up like Christmas hams beside him. Together the Fighting Stingrays had survived bullets, storms, fires and a run-in with a Japanese sub. After all of that, there was no way they could let Captain Maddox win. Charlie’s eyes fell on what was left of the crystal vase Maddox had smashed when throwing their slingshot at Judy. Maybe the rat wasn’t so useless after all?
Clenching all his muscles, Charlie wrenched his body upwards and to the side. The chair jumped about a quarter of an inch closer to the pile of glass.
‘What are you playing at?’ said Alf. But Charlie was completely focused on a large, particularly sharp shard of glass only a few yards away. It glinted slightly, as if telling him to keep going.
Inch by quarter-inch, Charlie hopped towards the scattered remains of the vase. His shirt was soaked with sweat, and his wrists and ankles stung where the ropes dug into his flesh. He jumped the chair round in a semicircle so his back was facing the shard, Alf finally realised what Charlie was doing. ‘A bit more to the left,’ he said. ‘No, too far. That’s it, now back a bit. And . . . you’re right on top of it.’
Charlie braced himself and jammed his feet against the floor, tipping the chair over backwards. Flat on his back, with his legs in the air like an upside-down turtle, Charlie groped through the pieces of glass beneath him, wincing as a tiny splinter worked its way under his thumbnail.
He found the long triangle of glass and gripped it carefully by the unbroken edge. Rolling onto his side, he twisted his right hand until the sharp edge of the shard met the rope binding his wrists. Then he sawed the makeshift blade back and forth until his fingers cramped up and his wrist felt like it was going to snap in two. But one by one, the fibres of the rope started to come apart.
‘That’s it,’ said Alf. ‘Almost there.’
Charlie’s arm was burning by the time the rope was thin enough for him to break with a single hard wrench. Alf cheered as the bindings dropped away and Charlie started on the cords around his ankles. After another few minutes spent slipping and swearing under his breath, the second rope came loose.
Charlie cracked his knuckles and set to work on Masa’s restraints. Judy glared at him for interrupting her sleep, but soon the ropes around Masa’s wrists and legs were also on the floor. As Charlie lowered Masa to the ground, his eyelids fluttered open.
‘Thank you,’ he mumbled.
‘Any time, mate,’ said Charlie. ‘Now, let’s get you some of that medicine, eh?’
‘Left pocket,’ said Alf. Charlie put a hand into the pocket of Alf’s shorts and pulled out a small brown bottle. He shook a couple of yellow pills into his palm and pushed them into Masa’s mouth.
Masa made a face as he swallowed. ‘Bitter,’ he said.
‘Can’t help that,’ said Charlie. ‘Now, go back to sleep, eh?’
He turned his attention to Alf, but no bit of broken glass was going to saw through metal handcuffs. Charlie grabbed the pipe behind Alf and shook it forcefully, but it was as solid as the wall it was attached to.
‘Don’t worry about me,’ said Alf. ‘Take Masa and go.’
‘We can’t do that,’ said Charlie.
‘You flamin’ well can,’ said Alf. ‘Maggots will be back any minute. Get away while you still can.’
Charlie rubbed his temples. Alf was right – there was no sense in all three of them hanging around to be recaptured. Charlie and Masa could sneak out, find a boat and be well away from TI when the sun came up. But he couldn’t leave Alf behind to face Maddox alone. Could he?
Precious seconds ticked away. ‘What are you waiting for?’ snapped Alf.
But then Charlie realised that the solution was staring him in the face. ‘Alf,’ he said. ‘Do you remember that film we saw last year? The one where the robber hid inside a suit of armour?’
Alf clenched his teeth. ‘What’s that got to do with anything?’
Charlie smiled. They’d spent far too long running from Captain Maddox. Enough was enough – it was time for the Fighting Stingrays to go on the attack.
Captain Maddox didn’t come back to the little room at the back of the butcher’s shop for many, many hours. The heavy fabric divi
ng suit was swelteringly hot, and sweat poured down Charlie’s face and neck as he strained his ears for the sound of army boots approaching. But it wasn’t until the stolen grandfather clock opposite him had chimed eleven in the morning that they finally heard the click of a key in the butcher’s front door.
‘It’s him,’ said Charlie. ‘Give me a hand with the helmet.’
Masa had improved dramatically over the past few hours, aided by the three packets of biscuits they’d found in Captain Maddox’s drawers. The strange fever had subsided, and he was sitting up and playing with Judy. Now he leapt to his feet and helped Charlie heave the massive diving helmet over his head. He popped Judy into a porcelain vase for safekeeping, stuffed their slingshot into his pocket and grabbed a handful of lead sinkers from a looted fishing set. Then he curled up on the floor, pretending to be asleep.
Operation Maggot Squash was about to begin. Charlie’s shoulders groaned under the weight of the copper helmet, while his steaming breath made the glass window very difficult to see through. He pushed himself deeper into the corner of the room, hoping the diving suit looked like another part of Captain Maddox’s spoils.
Footsteps approached the door beside Charlie, then it flung open and Captain Maddox strode inside. ‘Good morning,’ he crowed. His eyes fell on Charlie’s empty chair and he froze, mouth half-open.
‘Impossible!’ he growled, his head swivelling around the room like a spinning top. He seized Masa by the shirtfront and yanked him upright. ‘Where did he go?’ he barked, shaking Masa like a tambourine.
Masa half opened his eyes. ‘At the end of the rainbow,’ he mumbled groggily. ‘On a purple unicorn, with a golden . . .’ he trailed off and closed his eyes again.
The Fighting Stingrays Page 14
