Arthur paused watching the reaction from the adults around him. Did they believe him? Did they even understand him?
The men were staring dumbstruck at the screen. Finally Piot broke the silence. ‘I don’t get it,’ he said honestly. ‘Can you please run it by me one more time?’
‘He was creating animals that would never grow old,’ said Henri slowly. ‘He was deliberately removing from them any ability to age, to grow up to adulthood, to reproduce, to grow old, to die.’
There was a stunned silence as the adults digested the awful truth.
‘God,’ said Marcus. ‘No wonder Tass wanted to keep it quiet. Something like that would have the scientific world in uproar. You’re right, Arthur.’ He turned to the boy. ‘The thought of something as powerful as that in the wrong hands is utterly terrifying. But unethical and immoral as it may be, there would always be someone who would want a piece of it.’
‘That’s right,’ said Cate. ‘Sometime in the next few months, Tass was going to parade the animals in front of the world’s media – and not just any animals, endangered animals, which would get even more attention. He wouldn’t tell them about the thefts, of course, or how many animals had died terrified and in agony, in the process – it would ruin what reputation he’d built. So he had to bury the truth. Take the professor’s files and make sure the professor could never reveal the lengths Tass went to.’
‘But why?’ Henri was impatient. ‘Tass has all the money he could ever need. He wouldn’t need to sell the research.’
Cate turned to him. ‘He wanted his dad to be proud of him,’ she said quietly. ‘That’s what I think. That was all. He wanted his dad’s approval.’
Henri coughed. ‘Er, Cate, what has that got to do with those animals?’
‘Don’t you see, Henri?’ Cate said. ‘It has everything to do with it. I thought about what Nancy had told me. About Tass having his dad on his case all the time. I thought of how he must feel, how badly he must have wanted his dad’s respect. He knew he had to do something amazing, something incredible. He had to literally save the world. Or, in his case, he decided he had to save the animal world, but ended up with something far more ground-breaking.’
Marcus smiled and shook his head. ‘Of course,’ he said. ‘That makes sense. Why else would he risk so much? But how exactly was saving endangered animals going to get his dad to bring out the cheerleaders?’
‘It would have given him the success he craved, money and power beyond his wildest dreams,’ said Piot slowly. ‘It would have made his dad sit up and take notice.’
‘We need those animals alive,’ Henri said firmly, dragging them back to the practicalities. ‘That would provide the definite proof. We need to storm the boat, mount a rescue operation, arrest the crew.’
‘You can try.’ Arthur spoke again, high above them. ‘But I doubt you’ll succeed. A small army wouldn’t be able to storm that boat, and in any case, they’d see you coming a mile off.’
‘He’s right,’ Marcus said. ‘Tass has got powerboats and that damn submarine. Those animals would be gone long before we even got onboard. We have to do this by stealth. Somehow, someone needs to get onto the yacht and disarm the defences to give us any chance of a happy ending.’
This time the silence seemed to last forever. Three pairs of eyes swivelled towards Cate.
‘Cate?’ said Henri finally, sounding rather as if he was asking her if she fancied a cup of tea. ‘Cate, how do you feel about one more trip out to The Good Times? Sooner rather than later.’
CHAPTER 16
‘Ooowww.’ Nancy’s screams reverberated around Catwalk II. ‘God, what are you – some kind of sadist?’
Jules tugged hard at the waxing strips that were plastered on her legs.
Cate, who was giving the children lunch in the salon, could hardly contain her giggles.
‘What’s Jules doing to Mummy?’ asked Willow as she fed her bear some smoked salmon.
‘They’re making her beautiful,’ said Oak, not looking up from his book. ‘By ripping her hair out.’
‘Oh,’ said Ash. ‘Yuck.’
Cate looked down at her phone, checking for texts but there were none. In truth she didn’t expect any. After all, if you pulled out of a first date just a few hours before it was due to take place you couldn’t exactly expect the bloke to be delighted.
I wouldn’t be surprised if he never wanted to see me again, Cate thought glumly, as she remembered his gorgeous eyes and charming smile.
She hadn’t heard back from Arthur either, not after the two of them had had their worst ever row.
He had been furious with her, frightened too, she knew. He had even shouted at Marcus and Henri, told them they were risking Cate’s life, and she was shaken by the depth of his fear.
‘These are really dangerous people,’ he kept saying. ‘They killed the professor, they’ll kill you if they catch you.’
Piot too had been on Arthur’s side. ‘Cate is a child,’ he said to Henri. ‘What kind of people are we to send a child back into danger? What if something terrible happens to her?’
Henri had snorted then. ‘Cate is not a child. She’s a, a . . .’ he searched for the right words. ‘She’s a fighter, a warrior, a natural-born spy. She’s perfect for this job. If anyone else goes onboard that ship the alarm will be raised and the game will be over. Cate knows the boat already, and she has the best chance of getting access without raising suspicion. No one else has a hope of rescuing those animals without her help and you know it.’
The arguments had ceased then, Marcus and Henri nodding their agreement, Piot walking away in disgust. Even Arthur was finally quiet, wishing his sister a terse and strained goodbye.
‘Well,’ Henri had said briskly, as Arthur had vanished from the screen in front of them. ‘That’s settled. Cate, liaise with Marcus. Let him know what you need and when you need it. The entire resources of the department are at your disposal. Good luck.’
‘Has anyone spotted Bill lately?’ It was Wendy, walking through the cabin with a pile of towels in her hand, bringing Cate back to the present. ‘I haven’t seen him since this morning.’
‘Isn’t he down in the mess?’ asked Cate. ‘Or have you tried the engine room?’
‘Nah, looked down there,’ said Wendy. ‘Perhaps he’s gone somewhere with Lulu. I haven’t seen her all day either. Well, if you see him, tell him I need him. Nancy wanted to plan a trip down to Sardinia this week.’
Just then, the door to Nancy’s cabin burst open and the supermodel, her waxing ordeal clearly over, danced out wearing a metallic gold bikini and a pair of oversized sunglasses. She was trailed by a rather rotund girl wearing a pair of jeans and a billowing kaftan top which made her look even larger. The new nanny, Cate presumed.
‘Darlings!’ said Nancy, as the children looked up, astonished at her sudden appearance. ‘Tonight we are going to be a family, a proper family.’
The children looked blankly at her.
‘Tass and me, and all of you beautiful, gorgeous kids. We’re spending a lovely evening in together, eating pizza and watching Disney films down here in the salon. We’re going to make up a bed on the floor with heaps of duvets and eat popcorn. Won’t that be fabulous?’
The younger children beamed happily, caught up in the excitement.
Oak looked less pleased. ‘Does Tass have to be there?’ he said, looking up at his mother. ‘Wouldn’t it be better if it was just us lot? You know he doesn’t like us anyway.’
‘Oak, that’s so not true!’ Nancy sounded outraged. ‘This was all his idea.’
‘Yeah, right,’ murmured Oak.
That afternoon, Cate, spotting that Suki, the new nanny, was already looking stressed, volunteered to take the children to the beach near the harbour. It was crowded with families enjoying the bright sunny Sunday afternoon.
A little white dog ran in and out of the sea, barking at the waves, and a delighted Elm and Ash threw sticks for it into the water. Beech lay asleep,
covered up by towels and, at the far end of the scimitar-shaped beach, Oak and Willow were clambering happily together over heaped up piles of rocks.
Cate sat hugging her knees, absorbing the happiness around her, trying not to think of the danger that was to come. She shook her head and crossed her finger grimly. This time tomorrow, she promised herself, it will be all over.
By seven o’clock that evening, the children were bathed, changed into their pyjamas and already lying heaped over quilts and pillows that had been strewn across the salon floor in front of the TV.
Nancy was with them on the floor whilst Tass sat stiffly on one of the huge cream sofas, fiddling with the remote control. Cate waved goodnight to the children and went to see Marcus who was in the galley preparing the pizzas.
‘Let’s run through the plan to get you onboard one more time,’ said Marcus, shutting the door quietly behind her. ‘We don’t want any needless mistakes.’
Ten minutes later, as dusk was falling, Cate headed off the boat onto the still warm pontoon. The lights from the boats glowed and flickered around her, and she could hear music from a yacht behind Catwalk II and the sound of people laughing. Cate was wearing her black leggings, a black jogging top and black trainers, her hair tucked into a dark scarf she had borrowed from Nancy’s collection. In her rucksack she was carrying her phone, a Swiss Army knife, a powerful miniature torch, the survival kit and this time, after much deliberation with Marcus, the gun.
The red powerboat belonging to The Good Times was tied up to a small seaweed-encrusted post close to Catwalk II awaiting Tass and his bodyguards for their return trip to The Good Times. It was an easy job for Cate to step down into it as it bobbed around gently in the marina. She held her breath, waiting for an alarm or something to go off. But everything stayed quiet. Only the chirp of the cicadas from the park over the road disturbed the peaceful early evening air.
She leant back over the pontoon and scraped up some of the sea mud left in between the slats by the high tide and smeared it over her bare arms and her face then checked her watch. Three minutes to eight. Any time now.
On the dot of eight, she heard the first thud, thud of the helicopters as they flew in formation out from the hills behind the town and swooped low over the harbour, heading out to sea to hover over where The Good Times was moored. A few seconds later, Cate watched as huge flares lit up the sky, fired as a first warning by The Good Times’ powerful anti-aircraft system. Marcus hadn’t let her down.
As arranged, the helicopters were holding their position and Cate heard a terrifyingly loud crackle as The Good Times fired electricity into the air to disrupt the helicopters’ flight. She watched the mayhem for a few seconds longer and then opened the hatch in the deck which housed the powerful inboard engine. There was just enough room for her to squeeze safely alongside the metal block without danger of being trapped on the propeller. Good old Marcus. He had done his research well. Cate slipped in and pulled the hatch over her head. A minute later, she heard the sound of running footsteps on the pontoon.
Tass was onto the boat first, she could tell by his lighter tread. Then two heavier sets of footsteps: Ahmed and Mikey. They were cursing and shouting, struggling to get the ropes undone and the engine started. Cate pulled out a pair of earplugs from her pocket and shoved them into her ears just as the engine roared to life beside her. As the boat pounded at top speed over the waves, Cate hugged herself in the dark, her heart pounding and her mouth dry. She concentrated hard. For the next few hours she had to be razor sharp and she couldn’t let the fear of what she was headed into overpower her mind.
As the boat slowed to a stop, Cate pulled her earplugs out. She could hear Tass’s men shouting, trying to be heard over the clatter of the choppers, the whizzing of the flares being dropped from the helicopters and, even more ominously, the rattle of bullets.
It’s chaos, thought Cate. Her adrenalin was pumping and she was no longer scared, her mind cool and focused. It’s time to get to work.
She looked down at the black trainers she was wearing, remembering what Marcus had told her as he handed them to her earlier that day.
‘Look at the soles,’ he had told her.
Cate had turned the shoes over and stared at the bottom of them. They looked completely normal. She pushed and prodded. Nothing.
‘Twist them, Super Spy!’ said Marcus, sounding exasperated.
‘Ooops, sorry,’ said Cate, grabbing one of the studs and turning it. It came away almost instantly, leaving a hollow space beneath it. Nestled into it was a shiny black vial. Cate went to touch it.
‘Don’t,’ said Marcus sharply. ‘It’s carborane acid – a superacid hundreds of times more powerful than, say, sulphuric acid. There’s a vial in every stud and they are perfectly safely packaged there. Only take them out when you are about to use them.’
‘Once the vial is opened the superacid becomes active within sixty seconds. You understand? Once that process is started there is no turning back.’
Cate stared at him, enthralled and repulsed at the same time. ‘You mean I’m walking around with a highly destructive acid in my shoes?’
Marcus grinned. ‘Yep. Terrorists would trade their own mother for this stuff.’
His eyes softened. ‘Cate,’ he began. ‘I really wish there was another way. If I could get into that powerboat instead of you, you know I would do it.’
‘It’s OK, really. I’m the one small enough to stow away and I know the layout of The Good Times. It has to be me.’
Marcus tried to smile, gave up and patted her gently on the shoulder. ‘Good girl,’ he said quietly. ‘When all this is over I’ll take you for a slap up meal in Le Ricochet and I’ll get Henri to pay.’
There was a short silence, then it was back to business.
‘Don’t try to be too smart,’ he warned her. ‘Don’t waste time working on the computer security or trying to disable the external systems. Just go straight to the radar and sonar centres, smash massive holes in them and pour the acid in.’ He smiled grimly. ‘Short of blowing up the bridge with a missile, I guarantee you there won’t be a quicker way of crippling that boat. Oh, and speaking of which, if you can disable the missiles as well that would be great. We’d rather not have them whizzing past our ears.
‘Once you’ve done that, let us know and we’ll be there with you. We’ll have you off that boat in seconds, I promise.’
Marcus’s words echoing in her ears, Cate looked at her watch. Quarter past eight. She only had another five minutes of cover left.
She carefully lifted the hatch up a few centimetres above her head and peered out into the launch area. It was dark and empty. Tass and the bodyguards were nowhere to be seen. Silently, Cate pulled herself up through the hatch and slithered on her front to the edge of the mini harbour. Still no one. Keeping her head low she moved swiftly along onto the lower deck, watching for any guards that may have been posted there. But all the men seemed to be upstairs, no doubt deciding whether they could enter into a full-scale fight with the still swooping helicopters.
She paused, taking her bearings and trying to work out the quickest way to get up to the bridge and the radar and sonar centre without being spotted. It was far too risky to take the lift, Cate decided, opting instead to run up the metal staircase.
She reached the top deck and hid behind a small metal pillar, trying to work out where everyone was. The helicopters were no longer buzzing around the yacht but they were still close enough for the searchlight to pick them out in the black sky. No markings, thought Cate approvingly as she watched the choppers circle the yacht from a distance.
In front of her, the swimming pool glistened serenely amidst all the mayhem. It was hard to believe that, only the day before, Cate was sitting around it relaxing with the children. She forced herself to concentrate, remembering what Mikey had said when they first arrived on the boat. The pool, then the bridge which held the sonar and radar control and behind that the missiles. Through the sporadic light of th
e flares and the spotlights of the helicopters, Cate could see into the bridge room. She made out silhouettes of figures too dark to recognise.
Running from pillar to pillar in the moments of darkness, Cate worked her way along the deck. She had a near miss when a guard silently flitted past her as she paused behind one of the lifeboats, but he was too intent on looking upwards to see her. Now she was by the bridge and she had a clear view through the door. One man was at the centre of the activity, pointing at dials, giving orders. It was Bill.
Now, more than ever, Cate knew she had to be careful. Tass, Mikey, even Ahmed, she felt she had a good chance against. But Bill, he frightened her. Really frightened her.
Moving slowly and silently, she lifted herself on top of the bridge unit, praying Bill would hear nothing above him. She crouched between the radar mast and missile launcher.
She remembered Marcus’s parting shot as she had left the galley that evening. ‘KISS,’ he had said. ‘Don’t forget to KISS.’ Keep It Simple, Stupid. She smiled to herself. Straight down the barrel of each of the missiles then. She slipped off her left trainer and unscrewed six of the studs, one for each missile, and carefully poured them down each of the launch tubes. The whole job was done in less than twenty seconds but already Cate could smell the liquid begin to burn away at the missiles.
Hoping that would do the trick, Cate slipped down and peered inside the bridge. There were only two men in there now. Bill seemed to have vanished – gone down to the security centre perhaps.
One of the men was wearing headphones, facing away from her and poring over a bank of screens. The other was close to the door with his back to her. There would never be a better chance.
She whistled and the guard looked over his shoulder out through the door. Cate whistled again and he left the doorway and walked curiously on. As he passed into the shadows, she launched a kick into his stomach. As he fell forward, winded, she came behind him, using his momentum to push him head first over the safety barrier at the top of the stairwell. As he pivoted on his stomach there was no air for him to shout. Cate bent down, lifted up his shoes and heaved him down the stairs, his body thudding down to the darkness below. She ran down the steps and surprising herself with her strength, dragged his inert body into the shadows.
Trapped Page 17
