He could see the boat up ahead; it had just cleared the bar, probably on the way to Millionaires Row, a popular spot for larger boats to pull up. Quade took the lead again and powered through the bar with Selena hanging on tightly. They were approaching the first of the real waves. It was much easier and safer to cross the bars on the way in.
He glanced back at Rihanna over his shoulder. “You ready, Minky?”
She smiled and nodded her head. She was really beginning to enjoy being on the Jet Ski. This morning her eyes held a clear level of fear and he had been a little unkind when he’d gunned the ski right off but he knew what she was like. Minky would have hung onto those handles for grim death if she could have, rather than wrap her arms around him. And he definitely wanted her wrapped around him whenever there was the opportunity.
The first wave appeared and he powered up to slide up on its back. He then just feathered the throttle to keep the ski on the back of the wave and let it take them over the most dangerous part of the bar. When the wave was about to break, he let the ski slide off the back and die. Then he hit the throttle to accelerate as fast as he could through the messy waves. And simple as that, flat water again! Gosh, it was fun crossing these bars on skis compared to boats. No stress, no hassle in and out—easy peasy.
“You okay, Minky?” he yelled.
“Yep, that was nowhere near as bad as going out.”
He nodded his head in agreement. He glanced round and noticed that all the others had made it through safely. Quade was leading them steadily closer to the boat. They were sitting on around fifty kilometres an hour across relatively smooth water. A bit of wash from occasional passing boats gave the skis opportunity to jump the waves and get airborne.
They were making steady progress on catching the boat. Brayden could see a few Asian-looking men lounging around on the lower back deck, looking as if they were out enjoying the sun. In less than a minute, they jumped up over the large cruiser’s wake, and skirted to either side. The group had split into two in order to allow the skis to pass down each side.
The boat looked, for all intents and purposes, like any other cruiser. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, just out for a day’s cruise in the sun.
They were past in a flash and zooming over the flat water. Dylan and Rheeba had edged to the front of the pack as they neared the course they had decided upon. As they approached the navigation buoy, they slowed to a stop side by side. Rory and Jazz pulled up alongside. Rory held his arm in the air and then dropped it. Both of the skis jumped forward full throttle.
Rheeba’s ski planed slightly faster than Dylan’s and began to edge forward. They were a blur and fast becoming smaller and smaller objects in their sight. The rest of the group had hung back and were crossing the course at a much slower pace. Quade and Selena had headed down to the finish line a few minutes earlier to avoid any confusion over who might be the winner.
“Who won, Bray?”
“I don’t know, babe. I think Rheeba had him.”
“Go, girlfriend,” she cheered for Rheeba.
“Yeah, Rheeba definitely likes to win.”
“Hurry up, Bray. Let’s go find out for sure.”
He hit the throttle hard and they quickly passed one hundred kilometres an hour. They approached the idling skis and Brayden swung the ski in beside them, showering the others with a wave of water.
“Thanks, asshole,” Quade yelled.
“No problems,” Bray called cheekily. “Who won?”
“Who do you think, Stud?” she said smugly, standing up on the ski, doing her version of the happy dance.
“Oh, D, how did you let the fellas get beat by a girl?” Bray ragged on him.
“I can’t believe she managed to get more out of these things, Bray.” Dylan was still shaking his head in disbelief.
Brayden edged his ski over toward Quade.
“What do you reckon, should we call it a day?”
Quade looked around and then back to Bray. “I wouldn’t mind getting another look at that boat.”
“Yeah, I’d like to as well. Let’s do it.”
They swung the skis around and hit the throttles, sending them up the passage they’d just come down. The others followed along. They rounded the main channel and immediately spotted the Chinese boat cruising along. They came up behind it again and surfed the large wake of the boat before dropping over and accelerating alongside.
Bray’s stomach dropped as he realised the guys were no longer lounging on the back deck but had pulled out what looked like automatic weapons and they were clearly in their sights. Rihanna was the most exposed, wrapped around his back. He couldn’t risk having her hit.
He opened the throttle and veered left just as he heard the first of the weapons discharge. He saw the bullets hit the water just beside him. Shit, shit, shit.
Rihanna screamed in his ear, near deafening him. He was sure he could feel her heart thumping through the double layers of life vests. He could definitely smell her fear. And that just pissed him off. Having Rihanna terrified went against every essence of his being. Glancing over his shoulder, he noticed that the other skis were being sprayed with bullets also.
After hauling left, he swung the ski right, and then hard left again, cutting a zigzagging line across the water, gaining precious inches of safety. The power and manoeuvrability of the ski soon had them out of range of the bullets. But that didn’t negate the fact that he was still mighty pissed.
He whipped around the back of a small mangrove island and noticed that the others had followed him. They all seemed to be okay. There was nothing to be gained here. They needed to get back to the house and report in to Tom.
“Are you okay, baby?”
“I’m okay—terrified but okay. They were shooting at us, Bray.” He could tell that he needed to get her back into shore quickly. She might go into shock; she’d handled the abduction like a real trooper but being shot at for the first time was something altogether different. There was nothing like a bullet whizzing past you to give you a whole new outlook on life.
“Hang on, Minky, we’re going to head back to the ramp.”
She nodded her understanding. She played the scene back through her head in slow motion this time, when the bullets weren’t real, just terrifying memories. Now with time to think about it, she realised what had been nagging at her for the last couple of minutes.
The fuzz in her head cleared and she realised she recognised one of the Chinese men on the boat. Her mind started swirling with all the possibilities, connections. It was a coincidence surely?
Brayden opened the throttle. No point in sitting on the fastest Jet Ski on the planet if you couldn’t use the speed occasionally.
They’d pulled the skis out of the water and were headed back to Brayden’s. Rihanna and Jazz accompanied Brayden in the SUV and trailer. Nobody had spoken a word since they were shot at on the water.
The silence in the vehicle was palpable. Bray pulled out of the car park and Jazz could hold her tongue no longer.
“What the fuck was that about?” she demanded of them both.
Brayden and Rihanna exchanged glances between them and Jazz immediately picked up on it.
“Oh no, you two don’t get to keep secrets any longer. Spit it out now.” Jazz’s temper was fuming and her voice was reverberating around the closed interior of the SUV.
Brayden cleared his throat. “Umm, I guess I might have a pissed off a fan or two.”
Rihanna had dropped her chin and was looking at the footwell, not daring to look back at Jazz.
Jazz saw red. “Bullshit, Brayden. Fans don’t shoot at you like that. And if they were after you, why did they spray bullets at all of us?” Jazz paused for a moment. “No answer to that, hey, hotshot? That’s because it’s bullshit. Now give me the truth.”
Bray looked beat. He knew the gig was up. “I’ll tell you what I can.”
“Well, that’s a start.” Jazz threw herself back against the seat, totally pissed off.
“I’m still waiting.”
Brayden cleared his throat. “Um, Steel isn’t my only line of work, as you know. I work for a group called the Centre. We specialise in dealing with agricultural, quarantine, and biological type problems.”
“Yeah, that’s kind of what Rory said last night. So what’s the problem and why are you risking Rihanna in something?” Jazz’s pissed offed attitude was only slightly less evident.
“Well, that’s just the point. Rihanna is a major target in this operation because of her expertise and research with the Hendra virus.”
“So what is this operation exactly?” Jazz had a very bad feeling about this.
“We believe the Hendra virus is likely to be used as a biological weapon in the near future. Rihanna has been targeted by a couple of groups of extremists. In fact, she was nearly abducted on New Year’s Eve.”
“What the fuck and how come I don’t know about this?” Fury raged through Jazz.
Brayden decided to take the brunt. “You don’t know about this because Rihanna has been sworn to secrecy through government channels tied up with her research. She was not at liberty to tell you about it.”
That piece of information had Jazz’s mind whirling. So was this whole thing between Bray and Rihanna some elaborate ruse?
“So you two really aren’t together? And you’ve been playing me, is that it?” The accusation in Jazz’s voice cut Rihanna to the bone.
It was Rihanna’s turn to answer. Jazz could see the pain written all over her best friend’s face. “Actually, the relationship between Bray and me is probably the only real truth of this whole thing.”
Jazz watched Brayden nod his head in confirmation.
Jazz took a deep, calming breath. “Well, I guess that’s something. I haven’t been totally lied to.”
Rihanna had turned around to look back at Jazz. “I never lied to you, Jazz. I just haven’t been able to tell you the truth. And it’s been killing me. You know I hate keeping anything from you.”
Jazz scanned Rihanna’s face. She was telling the truth. Jazz had known Rihanna too long. In fact, Rihanna almost looked relieved.
“Okay, I can accept that for now. Fill me in on the rest.”
Rihanna and Brayden took turns in filling her in with the details of what had transpired over the last week.
My God, how was Rihanna still functioning sanely with what had been thrown at her? Jazz knew that Rihanna would need her more than ever now.
“Just so you’re clear, Brayden, I’m not leaving Rihanna in this mess without me,” Jazz stated emphatically.
“I figured as much. You couldn’t even if you wanted to. You’ve been seen with us now, so you’ve just become a target as well. I dare say that the boss will want you to sign some forms declaring that everything you have been told and learn as part of this will be kept fully confidential, yada yada yada.”
“That’s fine. Good thing I’m kind of between jobs at the moment. So am I able to stay at home?”
Rihanna looked at Brayden with curiosity. “No, I don’t think the boss will come at that. I think you’ll be with us at my place.”
“Okay, at least I’ll get some time with Rihanna.”
Rihanna flashed her a warm smile. Clearly she was happy to have Jazz around. Jazz also got the impression that Rihanna was really happy to have a clear conscience.
“So who do you think those guys really are?” Jazz had switched to business now.
“Well, I think they just announced they were involved by the shots they took.”
Brayden and Jazz discussed the events of the afternoon a little further and organised for Rory to escort her back to her place to retrieve some clothes and other belongings.
Rihanna had been quiet for a few kilometres, clearly deep in thought; something was bothering her. All of a sudden, she gripped the dashboard and spun to face Brayden.
“I know what the target is.”
Chapter Twenty-One
“Go ahead, Brayden.” The voice of Tom Anderson came through loud and clear over the speakerphone sitting on the coffee table in the family room. Brayden, Rory, Quade, Jazz, and Rihanna were all sitting on the comfortable couches, leaning forward to be clearly heard over the device.
They were all tense with excitement for different reasons. The activities of the afternoon had frightened the girls but had only seemed to piss off the guys even more. Rihanna and Jazz were both ecstatic to have a reason to be spending time together.
Brayden seemed relaxed enough but Rihanna sensed that he was curious how things would work out with Jazz now being required to be at least temporarily located with them. Quade was his typical quiet, brooding self and Rory was in fine form as always.
“Have you been briefed on the activities of the afternoon, boss?”
“If you mean the surveillance that turned out to be a one-sided gunfight, then yes I have.” The boss sounded less than impressed. “Rheeba filled me in. I’m still at a loss as to why you took a second pass at the cruiser.”
Quade looked at Brayden and they both looked at Rory. Rory shook his head and mouthed, “I’m not touching it.”
Brayden cleared his throat, clearly not comfortable answering. “Ah, we decided to have another look. Didn’t really see much the first time past.”
“And what, may I ask, did you hope to see the second time?”
Rihanna didn’t think she’d ever heard such a cold, cutting voice. This guy seriously knew how to chew someone out.
“Not sure, boss. We just thought a second pass may have given us some more information.” Brayden made a face indicating he was dying here.
“Well, obviously you were wrong and nearly got half my team and two civilians wiped out at the same time. Not such a good call in hindsight, Mr. James.”
“Ah, no, boss.”
“Right. So, Miss Carter, I assume you have been advised that you will now be the guest of Brayden and the team until further notice?”
“Yes, I have,” Jazz said, clearly having no intention of being intimidated by Tom Anderson.
“It has also been explained to you about the necessary confidentiality documents you will need to sign?”
“Yes it has.”
“Good then, let’s get on with the important stuff. Exactly what do you think the target is, Miss Mason, and why?”
Rihanna took a deep breath and then slowly stated, “I think the target is the major thoroughbred sale and summer racing carnival on the Gold Coast, Tom.”
Gasps went up all-round.
“Why do you think that, Rihanna?”
“I realised on the way home that I recognised one of the Chinese men on the boat. He’s a client of our practice,” she revealed, feeling sick that somebody associated with their veterinary practice was probably behind this. At least it wasn’t her staff as the Centre had first thought.
“Do you have a name for this man?” Tom pressed on, a voice of authority through the phone.
“We know him as Fu Chow.”
“Anything else you can tell us about him?”
She thought for a moment, trying to recall everything she knew about him. “We first did some independent yearling assessments for him about three years ago. Since then, we have done the same each year. He generally calls us up with the auction lots he’s interested in and then Dad generally goes and does an independent inspection for him before the sale begins.”
“Isn’t that a bit unusual?” the boss asked.
“In what way?”
“Well, I was of the understanding that all horses put up for sale had already passed veterinary inspection and x-rays.” That raised a few eyebrows around the table. Who’d have thought the boss knew anything about horse sales?
“That’s true but Fu Chow has always maintained that he wanted my father’s opinion on the horse and the x-rays before he hands over millions of dollars,” she answered patiently.
Rihanna noticed the nodding heads around the table at that logic.
“Has he appr
oached you this year to do similar?” The logical question was one she didn’t have an answer for.
“I couldn’t say, Tom. I haven’t had any real contact with the clinic in the last week. Besides, he always dealt directly with my father. I’ve only met him because I went to a few cocktail parties associated with the sales with my father.”
“Okay, thank you for the information, Dr Mason. I’ll discuss this with the other Dr Mason and we’ll reconvene at oh eight hundred tomorrow.”
In typical Tom fashion, the line went dead again.
Everyone took a refreshing breath and sat back in their respective chairs, tension gone.
“Is he always that intense?” Jazz asked.
“Yep, always. Boss is ex-military, a retired general. So he still thinks he’s operating with full military personnel. He can be a bit over the top and he takes intimidation to a whole new level,” Rory filled in for her.
“Whose turn is it to cook?” Brayden queried, looking from Rory to Quade.
“Don’t look at me, man. You got a night off last night, if I remember correctly, because you and Rihanna were busy.” Rory wiggled his fingers into air quotes to emphasise “were busy.”
Brayden stood and pulled Rihanna with him. “Guess we’re up, babe.”
“Guess so,” she said, following along and heading to the kitchen.
“How long will dinner be?” Jazz called from the family room.
“About an hour, why?” Brayden responded.
“That’ll be enough time for Rory to take me to get my clothes and stuff.”
Rory got to his feet. “Guess I’ll have that beer when I get back.”
Quade sniggered. “More for me.”
“Bullshit, you’re coming, too. Move your ass,” Rory declared, prodding Quade with his foot.
“Why?”
“You can keep an eye on things while I help Jazz. I’ve got a nasty feeling things are going to escalate after this afternoon.”
Finding Trust (Centre Games) Page 26
