The Squad
Page 15
It could go one of two ways.
She could be hit by a bullet.
Or she could knock him out.
Lesh slowed as he keyed in the sixteenth, then seventeenth numbers: 4 and 8.
One left.
Once he hit the number 9, he would either have disarmed or set off a nuclear device. But he knew not to hesitate. There was no time.
He hit the button. The screen flickered and a single word came up on it.
DISARMED
Lesh smiled. Then he felt Kester’s hand on his knee, Hatty’s hand on his shoulder, saw Adnan beaming at him.
‘You did it,’ Kester said.
Lily’s next three rocks hit Frank Hawk on his body. The fourth on his head. He was out cold. She’d done it.
Lily sprinted up to Hawk’s unconscious body, wanting to tie him up somehow before he came round. When she reached him, she saw that his finger was on the trigger of his gun. He had come that close to shooting her.
First, Lily upturned Hawk’s bag and found rope and some strong silver tape – the things he was taking to survive in the hills. They’d be very useful. She swiftly bound him with the tape, then looped the rope round his shoulders. She’d been trained in this: once you’ve put someone out of action, you had to make them immobile as quickly as you could.
Then she radioed down to the others.
Tromsø Treaty
There were seven people in the Polar Suite that evening. One of them – the Prime Minister – was addressing the other six.
The Squad. Plus Julia.
The room looked even posher than it had before. There was a large round table in the centre of the room with a perfect white tablecloth. And on it, a feast.
‘The conference has ended and –’ the Prime Minister gazed momentarily out of his window at the Arctic beauty before him – ‘I think we have high hopes that there’s going to be an agreement. A Tromsø Treaty.’
‘Between everyone?’ Lesh asked, genuinely surprised.
‘Yes,’ the Prime Minister said. ‘It seems that everyone knows that getting oil from under the ice – even after the ice has gone – will be hard. So they’ve decided to share their expertise and work it out together. Rather than have a war about it.’
‘What about Canada, sir?’ Lily asked.
‘Canada is a good example,’ the Prime Minister replied. ‘They are less keen on getting at the oil and gas than on making sure the environment doesn’t get damaged. That will be their area of expertise. They’ll be part of all agreements within the treaty. They will make sure that damage to the environment is limited.’
Lily wondered if that would have been enough for Katiyana and White Fear. She suspected not.
The Prime Minister went on. ‘Children, I have to thank you. I wish the world could thank you. But the world can never know what you’ve done. And, of course, they never will.’
‘Thank you, sir,’ Kester said on behalf of the Squad.
‘Between you, you’ve saved the world. At least this part of the world. I want you to know how grateful I am. And – I’ll be honest – I’m surprised. When I saw you, I thought … well … I had no idea children could be so … so effective.’
‘Thank you, Prime Minister,’ the five children said.
‘Thank you, sir,’ Julia echoed, staring at Hatty. ‘Sir, we’d like you to meet another person who has helped with this mission.’
Hatty frowned, then walked to the door and opened it.
The Prime Minister was surprised to see another girl, the same age as the Squad. She had blonde hair and looked very nervous.
‘Good evening,’ the Prime Minister said. ‘And who are you, young lady?’
Georgia opened her mouth, but nothing came out. She was speechless with nerves. Hatty realized quickly that the other girl needed help. She decided to give it.
‘This, Prime Minister, is another member of our football team.’ Hatty was careful not to reveal Georgia’s name. ‘She became involved in our mission and – well, without her help – we would not have made a success of it. We wanted her to meet you and receive the credit she deserves.’
The Prime Minister put his hand out to shake it with Georgia.
‘Thank you,’ he said gravely. ‘Thank you all.’
All at Sea
A small fishing boat travelled up a fjord, in the high north of Norway. It was night. It was dark. But even though it was winter and snow covered everything, the sky was clear. Clear and black. A billion stars.
The Squad – plus Julia – were heading to the place where Katiyana’s dead body had been dumped into the sea. They were sitting in a semicircle gazing at the beauty around them.
‘OK,’ Julia started, ‘Let’s talk.’
‘Can I speak first?’ Adnan broke in.
‘Go on,’ Kester said on behalf of the Squad.
‘I’ve something to tell you.’
Lily, Lesh, Kester nor Hatty said a word. They knew what this was about. Adnan had made his decision.
‘This is hard,’ Adnan said and immediately, the other four knew what he had decided.
‘You’re leaving?’ Julia asked in an unusually gentle voice. Adnan nodded.
And those were all the words that were needed. The four embraced at the foot of that massive mountain in the Arctic Circle.
Later, after the group hug, the pats on the back, the laughing and the bit of crying, Lily found herself alone at the front of the boat, the bow slicing through the calm waters of Norway.
She was watching the mountains too, trying to work out the place where she thought Katiyana had been dumped into the sea. They were nearly there.
As she stared into the night, she wondered what it would be like if some uncle turned up for her. Would she leave the Squad? Could she give up the thrill of adventure, the satisfaction of stopping bad people doing bad things?
No, she decided. The only reason she’d leave this was if her mum and dad reappeared, like a miracle. But she knew that wasn’t going to happen. The dead don’t come back.
Then she decided it was time. ‘It was about here,’ she said. The others joined her at the bow of the boat.
Lesh wheeled himself to the edge. Kester and Lily lifted a small wreath of flowers and held it at the side of the boat. Adnan and Hatty joined them.
Then – with their hands holding the wreath together – they dropped it into the water.
‘For Katiyana,’ Lily said.
They stood in silence for several minutes with just the sound of the water lapping against the boat.
And then it happened. Something they’d not even thought about. A sort of miracle in itself.
The clouds above them began to move, shifting about. And they saw the most vivid shade of translucent green above them. An amazing display of colour against a backcloth of white mountains and pitch-black sea.
‘The Northern Lights,’ Kester said, smiling.
Thank Yous
As always I need to say a huge thank you to my wife, Rebecca, who is my first reader, giving me blunt and brilliant feedback. She also does a thousand other things that help me make a living as a writer and I couldn’t work – or live – without her.
Thank you also to my daughter, for telling me what she thinks of my books as I write them. I couldn’t live without her either.
Thanks too to the writing group I have been part of, including James Nash, Anna Turner and Rachel Connor.
The Hurtigruten is a real shipping service that runs up and down the Norwegian coast. The crew of the Nordlys (meaning ‘northern lights’) were very helpful, especially Marie-Ann, who features as a character in the book. I was very sad to hear about the tragic accident on the Nordlys, just days after I had my tour of the ship and its engine room. I can thoroughly recommend a trip on the Hurtigruten. You can find out more about it at www.hurtigruten.co.uk
I also owe thanks to Norway and the several people who helped me in that country. It is a spectacularly beautiful place and its people are very nice. Speci
al thanks go to Edvard Munch, Knut Hamsun, Eirik Bakke, Alf-Inge Haaland, Gunnar Halle and Frank Strandli.
Thank you to Rifleman Jim Sells, to whom this book is dedicated. Jim is great supporter of my career – and a friend. Thanks too to Diane Baker and David Luxton, who are also both very helpful and friends.
Thanks to my readers – Kael Baker and Mark Oldham – for their advice.
Finally, thank you to Puffin for publishing me and doing all they do. Especially Lindsey Hobbs, my lovely editor.
Ten things you (possibly) didn’t know about TOM PALMER
Tom was possibly left as newborn in a box at the door of an adoption home in 1967.
He has got an adopted dad and a step-dad, but has never met his real dad.
Tom’s best job – before being an author – was a milkman. He delivered milk for nine years.
He once scored two goals direct from the corner flag in the same game. It was very windy.
Tom did not read a book by himself until he was seventeen.
In 1990 Tom wrecked his knee while playing for Bulmershe College in Reading. He didn’t warm up and has regretted it ever since.
He was the UK’s 1997 Bookseller of the Year.
He met his wife in the Sahara Desert.
Tom has been to watch over 500 Leeds United games, with Leeds winning 307. He once went for twenty-one years without missing a home game. His wife has been ten times, with Leeds winning every time.
Tom once met George Best in a London pub. Tom wanted to borrow his newspaper to find out the football scores. George kindly obliged.
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First published 2012
Text copyright © Tom Palmer, 2012
Cover photograph by Tetra Images/Photolibrary. Cover illustration by Paul Young
All rights reserved
The moral right of the author has been asserted
Typeset by Palimpsest Book Production Ltd, Falkirk, Stirlingshire
ISBN: 978-0-141-33782-1
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