by Jack Higgins
“You too.”
Jade hugged her brother tightly for a moment. “Right, me first with the wire-cutters,” she said. “Then I’ll give you ten minutes. That enough?”
Rich nodded. “See you soon.”
Vishinsky was drinking vodka in the boardroom right in the heart of the office section of the KOS facility. A large, polished antique wooden table dominated the room, and Vishinsky was sitting at the head of it. He was alone. Along one side of the room was a set of cupboards and filing cabinets. On top of this was a tray of decanters and glasses. Vishinsky got up and went to refill his shot glass. He sniffed appreciatively at the last drops in the glass before pouring another drink.
He was just taking his seat again when Stabb came in.
“We have visitors,” Stabb said, smiling.
“I hope you have rolled out the red carpet,” Vishinsky said.
Stabb picked up a remote control from the table and worked the buttons. A wooden panel at the end of the room slid open, opposite Vishinsky. “I thought we’d let them get a little bit further. Not just to get their hopes up, but so there really is no chance of escape.”
Behind the wooden panel was a large screen. It flickered into life as Stabb pressed another button. “I’ve had the security feed patched through,” he said. “Magda is keeping an eye on things at Security Control, and she’s sending the relevant pictures through to us here.”
The grainy, black-and-white image on the screen was clear enough. It showed a large storage container. Beside the container, something moved and the camera zoomed in to show a figure. As she turned it was obviously Jade, her fair hair pale in the monochrome image, falling about her shoulders. She seemed to talk to someone out of sight behind the tank. Then, in a burst of speed, she was running round the tank.
The camera struggled to follow her. Then it let her go, moving back to its previous position.
“We want to make sure we have them both,” Stabb said.
Sure enough several moments later another figure appeared where the girl had been. A figure dressed in an identical coat, but with the hood pulled up so the face was in shadow. The figure was a similar size and shape, but for the moment that the face was clearly visible inside the hood of the coat, Stabb and Vishinsky could see that the hair was away from the face, apparently shorter.
“The boy as well,” Vishinsky said. He took a last gulp of vodka and slammed down the glass on the table in front of him. “Good. We have them. Take no chances, Mr Stabb. These children have caused me enough trouble already. We know where they are now; take as many guards as you wish from wherever they are no longer needed.”
Stabb nodded. “I’ll send Magda to get them.”
On the screen behind Stabb, the image changed to another camera. It showed Jade running across an open space. The image changed again – this time to show another point, just ahead of the previous one. The hooded figure appeared in shot, making its wary way past a pipeline.
“They have no idea, do they?” Stabb said. “They don’t even realise there are cameras. That they’re starring in a film.”
“It is not a film I have seen before,” Vishinsky said. He rolled his glass in his hand, letting the last drops of the clear, viscous liquid inside coat the sides. “But I can guess exactly how it ends.”
Chance lay on his mattress, staring up at the single naked bulb in the ceiling above, and listened to the sound of running feet and shouted orders. After a while it went quiet. Something was up, some commotion. Whatever it was, it was unlikely to be anything to do with him, Chance decided.
He changed his mind when he heard the scrape of the key turning in the lock. This could be his last chance, he decided – while many of the guards were busy. If he could get out of his prison, the storeroom, then maybe…
Chance was on his feet and across the small room, pressing himself to the wall behind the door as it started to open. He let it open wide enough for whoever was there to see the empty mattress. The door hesitated – and Chance grabbed it and wrenched it fully open, launching himself at the figure standing alone in the doorway.
He knocked the figure to the ground, landed astride it, raised his fist and prepared to bring it crashing down.
“Er, hello, Dad,” the figure beneath him said. It was Rich.
“What the hell are you doing?” Chance demanded in astonishment.
“Rescuing you. Sorry.”
They both got to their feet. Rich was rubbing his ribs where Chance had landed on him.
“No, I’m sorry – you OK?”
“Just winded,” Rich said. “There was a guard, but he went with lots of others just now. We need to get moving. Watch out for the camera, over there,” he warned. “I’ve got a map with them marked. Lots of other useful stuff too. At least, I hope it’s useful.”
“Good man. I hope you’re going to tell me your sister had the good sense to stay at home,” Chance said. Rick shrugged. “So where did the guards go – you arrange a diversion?”
“Yeah,” Rich said, following Chance along a narrow walkway between two low concrete buildings. “Only there’s a bit of a problem.”
“What’s that?” Chance checked the area at the end of the walkway and then they both ran quickly across.
“Jade is the diversion,” Rich told him.
Stabb joined Magda beside a massive pipeline. Other pipes fed into it, through a complex arrangement of valves and taps.
“They are just about to come through there,” Magda said, pointing to the gap between an enormous circular storage tank and a stack of pipes that rose like a wall. The gap emerged into an open area between more storage tanks, and guards were already in position with guns aimed ready for the intruders to appear.
“I see you’re ready for them,” Stabb said.
Magda spoke quietly into her radio, pushing her long hair away from her ear. “I’ve sent guards into the other end of the passageway now, so they can’t turn round, or go back, or run away. There really is no escape.”
“Good. We don’t want any nasty surprises at this stage.”
Magda was listening to her radio. “I think our guests are about to arrive,” she said.
Sure enough, a figure was emerging cautiously from the gap between tank and pipes. Its face was hidden beneath the raised hood of the bulky coat, but it obviously caught sight of the waiting guards – turned and ran.
A moment later, the figure was back, running out of the gap and into the open area. It skidded to a halt and stuck its hands up.
Behind the figure, half a dozen armed guards appeared from the gap.
Magda laughed. “Like a rat in a trap.”
Stabb laughed too. But then, abruptly, he stopped. “Where’s the other one?” he demanded. “Where’s the girl?”
“They must have caught her already, in the passageway,” Magda said. She led the way down to where the guards were still aiming their guns at the figure in the hooded coat. As she went she spoke again into her radio, her voice becoming more urgent and angry.
“That’s impossible,” Magda said to Stabb. “She was there. Security say they saw her clearly on the camera going in. But now – she isn’t there.”
Stabb strode up to the captured youngster. “Where is she?” he demanded. “Where’s your sister?”
He reached up and pulled back the hood.
And Jade’s blonde hair spilled out of it round her shoulders. “Right here,” she said. “Did you think there was someone else with me?”
On a metal walkway high above, stretched between storage tanks, John and Rich Chance looked down at the scene below. They could see the guards with their guns aimed, and they could see Magda and Stabb shouting at Jade.
“I know how they feel,” Chance said.
“We can’t just leave her,” Rich told him.
“Of course not. We’re going home. All of us. Together.” Chance took the rucksack from Rich and reached inside. “Just got a couple of things to sort out first.”
21
“It was just you,” Magda realised.
Despite the desperate situation, Jade was grinning. Her idea had worked a treat. “Never saw the both of us together, did you?” She thrust her hands into her coat pockets. “You’ll never find Rich now.”
“You little bitch!” Magda shrieked. She lashed out, slapping Jade across the face.
It stung like hell, but Jade remained defiant. She was determined to stand up to the woman. “You’re the one who hits like a girl,” Jade said. In the pocket of her coat, she had found something – something she’d forgotten she had. She managed to ease open the top of the cigarette packet and felt inside.
Magda swung her arm back for another go. Her long black hair was in a whirl round her head as she moved.
And Jade brought the cigarette lighter out of her pocket, flicking the top of it as she reached out.
The scrape of flint. The pop of the ignition. A tiny spark of flame. Jade thrust the lighter into the swirl of Magda’s long hair. And suddenly, the tiny flame was a mass of fire.
Magda screamed. Stabb watched in open-mouthed amazement. The guards were frozen in a semi-circle, staring as the flames raged through Magda’s hair and down her back. She was screaming, clutching at her head, shaking it back and forth. Then she fell to the ground, rolling desperately as her clothes too caught fire.
Stabb pointed a gun at Jade. She stared down the black hole of the barrel. He grabbed her hand, the one holding the lighter, and stared at the small silver object clutched between her fingers. Stared at the engraved outline of a heart as it glinted in the flickering of the flames behind them.
“I’ve seen that before,” he said. Despite the situation, he sounded elated, though Jade had no idea why. He ripped the lighter from her grasp.
From high above, Jade caught a glimpse of movement – something falling towards them. She saw the two figures on the gantry between the fuel tanks, and instinctively knew to look away from the falling shape.
Apparently sensing that she had seen something, Stabb glanced round, just as the flash grenade exploded. It was more light and sound than destructive power, but it robbed Stabb of his vision and scattered the guards.
Jade ran. She hoped that Rich and her father could see where she was going through the smoke and that they would find her, but she didn’t have time to look back as the smoke billowed out from the point of impact. She sprinted back the way she had come, between the tanks and the pipes.
Through the drifting smoke, Rich could see two of the guards running to help Magda. They were using their jackets to beat out the flames and smother the fire.
Jade was running, but Stabb was just standing there, staring at the lighter he had taken from Jade.
“What the hell did she do that for?” Chance said. He sounded angry and confused.
“Come on,” Rich said. “Let’s help her.” He could recall the walkway they were on from his map of the installation. There should be a way down further along, at the next storage tank. Then they’d be in the same area and could find Jade.
Chance had the rucksack over his shoulder and was running with Rich.
“We’ll get you another lighter,” Rich gasped, breathless, as they ran.
“That’s not the point,” Chance told him. He eased Rich aside and went first down a metal ladder down the side of the tank that led to the ground close to where Jade had made her escape.
“Then what is the point?” Rich asked. “We came a long way to rescue you, not to get told off.”
“And I came a long way to stop Vishinsky getting a sample of fuel that he needs – a sample I took from him and hid.”
He reached the bottom of the ladder and stepped back so that Rich could join him.
“We know all about that,” Rich said. “People keep on at us to tell them where it’s hidden, though I don’t know why it’s so important. But I still don’t see how—” Rich froze, one foot just short of the ground. “Your lighter,” he realised. “The fuel sample was in your lighter.”
“That’s right. The fuel sample mixed with the lighter fluid – it works just like normal, so no one would ever know. Except that now Stabb has it. And, thanks to Jade, he knows it works.”
Rich got out the map and together they examined it.
“Jade was running that way.” Rich quickly traced the route she had taken. “We should be able to catch up with her here – assuming she’s heading to where she came in.” He pointed to the place where Jade had cut the wire before Rich had taken the cutters from her and made his way round to his own, different point of entry. “We’ll have to be careful to avoid the cameras.”
“No worries,” Dad told him. He patted the rucksack over his shoulder. “Little box of tricks in here which I’ve turned on. It blanks out the cameras when we’re within range. I set the range, so they’re all out. Where did you get this stuff anyway?”
They were jogging between rows of massive metal pipes. “Mate of yours,” Rich said. “I don’t know his real name and he thinks you’re called Harry.”
Jade could hear the sound of booted feet coming after her. It wasn’t far now – not far back to the hole she had cut in the fence. Hopefully, Rich would have realised where she was heading and would come to help. And Dad – he had rescued Dad. She’d seen them together on the gantry.
She turned a corner and found herself running between two low concrete buildings. Behind her, she could hear the guards gaining ground. She glanced back and saw the uniformed men turn the corner and start after her. At the far end of the buildings in front of her, two figures appeared. Jade slowed, then realised who it was. She sprinted as fast as she could towards Rich and her father.
At that moment a metal grille slid out from the side of one of the buildings in front of her. Another grille slid out from the other side of the passage to meet it.
Jade ran as fast as she could, but the grilles met and she slammed painfully into the mesh. It was too tightly-woven to get a grip on or to climb.
“Jade!” Dad shouted as he skidded to a halt at the barriers. He tried to prise the metal gates apart, but they were firmly shut.
“The lighter,” Rich said. “You have to get it back – it’s the fuel sample they need. Jade!”
She was too exhausted, and too astonished, to answer. The first of the guards arrived and clamped a hand down on her shoulder. She shook it off angrily and glared up at the grinning man. Behind him, Stabb was walking slowly towards her along the passageway, and with him was Viktor Vishinsky. He was holding the lighter that Stabb had wrenched from her fingers just minutes before. The lighter that had seemed so unimportant…
“The perfect hiding place,” Vishinksy said. He raised his voice to call through the mesh gates. “I congratulate you, Mr Chance, a good choice. It still works as a lighter – who would ever guess?”
Vishinsky handed the lighter to one of the guards and gave him an order in Russian. The guard nodded and ran back down the passageway. “I shall have it analysed and then we can make as much of the formula as we need. Thank you so very much.”
“For what?” Jade demanded.
“It’s fuel that’s been treated with a special substance that Vishinsky can now duplicate,” Chance said.
“You mean, like super-fuel?” Rich wondered.
Vishinsky smiled. He peered through the mesh at Rich and his father.
“Not quite,” Vishinsky said. “The sample contained in that lighter is an antidote – something to reverse another process that I have been developing. You see, my scientists have developed a substance that acts like a virus, attacking oil and making any oil-based fuel useless.”
“Why do you want to make a fuel that doesn’t work?” Jade asked.
“Think of the havoc it will wreak once the infected fuel is introduced to the fuel supply. Cars and lorries will stop, perhaps in the middle of a motorway. Planes will fall out of the sky. The transport system will simply collapse. No one will dare to use any fuel that might be contaminated – not when t
heir very survival depends on it. Once I introduce the virus into a fuel line, it spreads rapidly. From this pumping station alone I could infect a large proportion of Europe’s fuel.”
“And the antidote in the lighter reverses the process, right?” Rich said, through the grille. “Makes it burn properly again – like normal fuel.”
“Precisely,” Vishinsky replied. “And this antidote that can treat the contaminated, useless fuel and make it work again – or protect uncontaminated fuel so it will survive the infection—”
“—will be worth a fortune,” Rich interrupted. “When you infect all the oil supplies that pass through here, no one will know what fuel is safe to use and what’s been infected. And then you can make a fortune offering to provide guaranteed safe supplies which you’ve treated with this antibody.”
Vishinsky turned to Chance. “Really, I must congratulate you on your children, Mr Chance – or should that be your late wife.”
Jade lunged at Vishinsky, but a guard held her back.
“And what about all the people you kill with your contaminated fuel,” Chance replied. “The cars that stop, the planes that fall out of the sky?”
“You have to create demand,” Vishinsky told him, smiling. “That is the way you survive in business – and prosper. For too long Krejikistan has been just a link in a pipeline, a way-station to somewhere else, but with this antidote we have a chance to make something of ourselves – to be more than just a lucky freak of geography. Our entire history has been defined by where we are, not who or what we are. The Mongols went right through Krejikistan – they didn’t even think we were worth invading. At least under the Soviets, under communism, we counted for something. Hard work could be seen as a purpose and goal in and of itself. But now?”
“You make money,” Jade said. “The Russians pay for the use of your pipelines.”
He gave a snort of derision. “Horses or pipelines, they all run right through and never care where they are going, who they are trampling on. They see us as an inconvenience, no more. An expense. Unless we prove them wrong, we will become as weak as those fools in the Kremlin have become, as decadent and soft and complacent as the West. Now is the time to stand up for ourselves, to achieve what we can. You wait – soon everyone will know about Krejikistan.”
