by Chris Ryan
Hex was already racing off ahead towards a white boat: the Fathom Sprinter, controlled by Amber. He was struggling to keep upright as his passenger leaned and swayed.
'You must be Bill,' Hex shouted over his shoulder.
His only reply was a ragged cough. Hex looked round: Bowman was clutching his chest; he didn't look good. Hex twisted the throttle as far as it would go. They had to get back and call the coastguard. Fast.
Li walked into the saloon with a tray of glasses. Under the tray was the contract, hidden from view.
Hearst was in there. He didn't acknowledge her, but went straight to the satellite phone and pressed a button. Then he listened, looking puzzled. Li's mouth went dry. That was redial; it would probably get him the satellite phone in the Fathom Sprinter. Hearst pressed cancel and hit redial again. Li tried to look as though she was taking no notice. If Paulo or one of the others did answer he wouldn't know who it was.
She moved out to the sun deck. There was a set of white-painted metal steps leading up to the deck above. She hadn't been up there yet, but she could see another table and chairs. If she took the glasses up there it would keep her on the move until Paulo and Hex arrived.
She climbed the steps. The breeze was fresh up on this deck. Maybe it was a good place to wait – she'd be able to spot any approaching lights and she could see the bridge, and the dark-skinned captain looking at a row of green, glowing instruments.
Somebody came up the stairs and she looked behind her. Hearst. What did he want?
He smiled – that nasty, ingratiating smile. Li smiled back.
His expression changed. Why? She suddenly realized. Coming up from below, he could see she had papers under the tray – papers tied with pink legal ribbon. His eyes became flinty. He climbed the stairs, his eyes fixed on hers.
'I think,' he said, 'you have something of mine.'
24
UNMASKED
Hearst came up onto the deck. 'You know what I find fascinating about you? For a Filipino you have excellent teeth. I didn't think any of you activists would have the nerve to actually come to my boat, but here you are.' He put out his hand. 'Hand the documents over.'
Li threw the tray at him. She heard the glasses smash but already she was vaulting over the rail and onto the deck below, the folder tucked under one arm.
She landed like a cat, and glimpsed a movement through the window of the saloon – the commotion had alerted someone. She was moving in seconds. She had to get to the jet skis.
She ran for the launch platform, hurdling the canvas chairs. Beside her, there was a hiss of compressed air and a ripping sound. A vicious-looking arrow shot into the canvas of the chair just ahead of her. They were firing at her with the harpoon.
Li vaulted down onto the platform. Another harpoon whistled past, so close she could feel it on her face.
She released a jet ski and it hit the dark water with a splash. She squeezed the contract down the top of her wetsuit and jumped on. The jet ski wobbled and she grabbed the handlebars to stop herself falling, just as a figure loomed over the steps to the launch platform, a slender rod in his hand. The harpoon gun. She had to get away before he fired again.
Li started the engine and roared off. The jet ski wasn't like the ones she'd used earlier; this kind had no seat – you stood up on it like a scooter.
Behind her, another jet ski hit the water. The wail of the engine came in stereo. But there was another noise too. Gunfire.
Someone was shooting at her. With bullets.
She glanced behind. Two lights were haring around on the water – two jet skis now after her.
Headlights; she hadn't realized the jet ski had headlights. She turned hers on and they illuminated a small triangle of choppy navy blue water ahead of her, but they also spoiled her night vision. She turned them off; she was probably better off without them. As she pushed the throttle up to full speed, the machine pulled away like a turbo-charged motorbike. These were serious performance vehicles.
Either side of her, out of the corners of both eyes, she could see the lights of the other jet skis. They were gaining on her, trying to cut her off.
She pulled the handlebars to one side, then the other. The bike slalomed through the water from side to side like a skier down a mountain. Two headlights followed her, veering to head her off. Their lights were like beacons homing in on her. The sound of jet skis was everywhere, echoing off the water – it sounded as though there were a hundred of them.
She made the corners sharper to give them something to think about but misjudged one and found herself sliding along at ninety degrees, one side in the sea. She put her foot out on the water as though it was a solid surface, then righted herself and carried on. She still had the contract safe, stuffed down her wetsuit. It would have been fun if she hadn't been fleeing for her life.
She glanced back, hoping one of the jet skiers behind would fall, but both headlights continued to pursue her doggedly. The gunfire came again. She slalomed, forcing her pursuers to do the same. While they were sliding like that, they couldn't aim. She made the slaloms more and more extreme, leaning further over each time.
Li could feel the surface of the water becoming increasingly choppy. It was now like riding over bumpy hills. But they seemed to be able to follow her, no matter what she did.
Time for a different tactic.
She stopped and swerved around 180 degrees so she was facing them, throwing up a great wave like a flourish.
She had to do this before they had time to fire.
Hearst and his guard saw the slight girl pull the papers out of her wetsuit and rip them in half. She threw her arm up in a big arc and the torn papers scattered into the water. Then she was off.
Li looked behind her. Papers were floating on the surface of the water, bobbing on the waves. Hearst and the guard were trying to gather them up before the ink ran too much.
Then she heard a roar behind her. A moment later came the sounds of shots. The chase was on again. Li put the jet ski into a spectacular slide, travelling ten metres sideways with her foot on the water. Behind her, one of the jet skis went over completely then bounced upright, the engine idling while it turned in a circle. Only one to go now. And he wasn't shooting. Good – perhaps she'd made things more even.
She pointed the nose of the jet ski down into the water. The jet ski began to dive. How far would it go? Li committed to the move and went with it. For a moment she was completely submerged, then she came up again like a dolphin.
A shot rang out. Something magenta-coloured whizzed past her into the water. She thought she'd dealt with the gunman.
But now something else was in front of her, visible in the light of the other jet ski. A craft she recognized. The motorboat. With one occupant.
The hit man.
His boat was stationary and she was heading straight for it. The light of the pursuing jet ski illuminated a figure kneeling in the boat. He was aiming something and Li suddenly realized what the magenta glow had been. A flare. He was trying to shoot her with a flare pistol. It lacked refinement as a weapon, but would be more devastating at close range than a pistol.
He'd missed before but she was now so close that no matter how she swerved he would not miss. If it hit her it would blow a hole in her like an exploding firework.
Li steered straight, then pulled up and threw her weight to the side. The jet ski soared up, sliding along sideways – but not in the water, in the air. She flew right over the boat in something like a karate leap, then was engulfed by water.
She came up, spluttering, on the other side of the hit man's boat. Bobbing in the water beside her jet ski, she saw a magenta glow through the gloom, then an orange flash that ended in a muffled boom. The hit man had shot the other jet ski and its fuel tank had gone up. She could see his silhouette against the orange flames; the hit man was still in the boat, but no longer in firing position.
Li's engine had stopped. The air seemed so quiet without the roar of the jet skis and
the fizz of moving water. Now there were new sounds to get used to – a whump of fuel burning and a man screaming. She stayed where she was, treading water. If she got up again, the hit man might see her. Her best hope was to hide by the jet ski and wait until he went away. She thanked her lucky stars she'd kept her headlights off, it was her best chance of not being seen.
That whump noise was getting louder.
It wasn't just the fuel burning.
It was a helicopter.
Then she saw them – the tail and nose lights of two helicopters. Suddenly they turned on searchlights – great triangular beams that swung around the dark water. One found the hit man's boat and fixed on him like an eye.
More lights appeared, this time at surface level. The whine of engines added to the orchestra of noises. One of the searchlights passed over them and illuminated three motorboats.
Who were they? Where had they all come from?
The hit man decided to run for it. He opened the throttle on his engine and swept away, one helicopter following him, its searchlight locked on; it wasn't letting him go. Li chuckled – the hit man looked like he was trying to escape being kidnapped by aliens.
A powerful light shone in her eyes. She put her hands up and squinted at the direction it had come from.
A silver dinghy puttered up beside her. 'Are you all right?' The torch tilted upwards so that she could see a face. Greg, the coastguard. Danny was there too. Their strong arms reached into the water to help her in.
Li kicked the few metres to the edge of the boat and caught the rope on the edge. Rescue. Now that she could stop fighting to stay afloat she suddenly felt exhausted. Her other hand was still on the jet ski, trying to pull it with her.
'If you rescue me,' pleaded Li, 'will you promise to rescue this too?'
'Forget her,' said a voice. 'Just get the jet ski.' Paulo's face appeared by Danny's shoulder.
Li relaxed and let them pull her into the boat. Paulo was ready with a warm blanket. He put it around her while Danny and Greg caught the jet ski and tethered it to a ring on the side of the dinghy.
The surface of the water was mayhem. Two motorboats were screaming into the distance, the helicopter following them. The other helicopter was still pursuing the hit man. Li shook her head, amazed. 'Who are all these other people?'
'The police. We had to get medical help for Bowman and they got involved too.'
Li's fight for her own survival had been so intense that she had momentarily forgotten everything else. 'You got him, did you?'
'Yeah. He'll be fine.'
25
HEALING
As the morning sun glittered on the sea, Paulo, Li, Alex and Hex walked slowly along the beach, spread out in a line like police searching a crime scene. They didn't talk, just walked, heads bowed, looking for dead birds washed up during the night. This was now as much a part of their morning routine as cleaning their teeth.
Li's foot touched a bird. She scooped it out of the sand and into the basket she carried. The sand was greyish. Below the first couple of centimetres it was darker but already fresh sand was coming in to cover the tainted layers, like skin closing over a wound. In time, the beach would become white again and the sea would bring only sand, not these drifting black remains.
But they didn't need the masks any more. The most volatile chemicals that irritated the lungs were gone. Gloves were the only protection they needed now. That was an improvement too.
Paulo was thinking that such a lot had changed since he had last done this. Just twenty-four hours ago Bowman had been a prisoner with two conspirators preparing to kill him and begin a course of action that would ruin the environment. And Mara had been held by the police for questioning over the assassination attempt. Now Bowman would make a statement to the police and the government's fraud department would go through ArBonCo's records with a fine-tooth comb. All the evidence Hex had found when he hacked in illegally would come out in the open. It would clear Mara and would put Neil Hearst in jail. But Paulo still puzzled about one thing – where the conspirators were going to get their haul of $50 million.
Alex was thinking about that too. But, he figured, you could never know everything. When his dad went on a mission with the Regiment, he was given a specific task – rescue this hostage, destroy this base, find this information. Sometimes he didn't know why but he had to focus on the job in hand. One of the strengths of Alpha Force was that they were a unit on their own; they found problems and they solved them. When they went into action, they knew what would happen if they failed. And that made success all the more sweet.
Amber came out onto the veranda, sipping a glass of water very slowly. As soon as she had put her trowel into the grey sand to remove a bird the oily smell had turned her stomach over again.
Hex had filled his basket. He brought it up onto the veranda and put it down while he fetched a black plastic sack. Something in it caught Amber's eye. On top was a pair of birds, their scrawny blackened necks twined together like betrothed swans. He had dug them out together so that they were united in death. It was so poignant, such a symbol of how helpless everyone had been when a few men got greedy. There was a rustle behind her. Hex was coming back with a sack, shaking it to find the opening. He flapped it again and it sent a waft of oil over to her. Her insides suddenly felt like a cola can being shaken hard. This was not good. "With as much dignity as she could muster, she hurried into the bar.
Hex saw her rush by, hand over her mouth. 'Amber, are you OK?' he called. 'Do you need anything?' He watched as she sat down in a dark corner and pulled the zip down on her wetsuit to get cool. She began sipping water. Hex decided she was probably all right and went back to work, head down, carefully digging.
After a few minutes someone came out onto the veranda, put on some gloves, picked up a trowel and basket and walked down onto the beach. Surely Amber shouldn't be doing that, Hex thought, turning round.
Instead of her close-cropped hair and ebony arms he found himself looking at a head of silvery hair.
It looked up. Grey eyes met his.
Hex gulped. 'Mr Bowman?'
Bowman straightened up and grasped Hex's hand. His grip was warm and firm as he shook it. 'Nice to meet you properly. There wasn't really time for introductions before.'
That was an understatement. The last time they'd met, Hex had been trying to keep his balance on a jet ski as Bowman had clutched his chest and gasped behind him. Now he looked rested and well. Hex didn't know what to say. 'I thought you were having a heart attack,' he said, and then thought that was probably a bit tactless.
'Not a heart attack, just a touch of angina,' replied Bowman. 'Brought on by stress. I've had so many tests this morning I'm like a pincushion.'
Amber came out, her big brown eyes amazed. Bowman turned and offered her his hand. 'Miss Mayday, isn't it?'
Amber smiled and shook his hand firmly. The last time he'd seen her she'd been at the helm of the Fathom Sprinter, shrieking, 'Mayday!' into the radio. 'I'm Amber. You frightened the life out of me last night.'
The others had put their trowels and baskets down. Alex stepped forward and shook Bowman's hand. 'I'm Alex. So this is what you look like without a mask and regulator.'
Bowman grinned. 'Any time you want to be thrashed at Hangman again, let me know.'
He spotted Paulo next and shook his hand. 'The other cameraman, eh, along with Hex? Mara showed me the video evidence you got at the drill site.'
At once they all said, 'Is Mara out of custody?'
'She certainly is,' said Bowman. He turned to Li. The last time she'd seen him he had been facing death. His face was serious. 'The brave little undercover maid,' he said quietly. 'Your note saved my life. I thought I was done for.'
'Note?' said Paulo.
'I slipped him a note on a coaster,' said Li. 'It said, Play dead – take disc. Then Hearst wouldn't know I'd swapped the pills.' She touched Bowman's arm. 'You did brilliantly, you were so brave to go along with it. And when you took th
e disc on the coaster, you were taking the tracer so we could keep tabs on you from that moment on.'
Bowman bent over and began to dig out a bird. 'You guys were the brave ones.'
Quietly, they went back to work.
Alex's patch was beside Bowman's. Working side by side brought back the sense of camaraderie he'd felt while waiting underwater with him. 'I knew Ian Davidson, your security chief,' he said. 'He was my dad's friend.'
Bowman removed a bird from its sandy tomb and placed it carefully in the basket. 'He was a good man. When Hearst and his thugs took me they had to take him too because they knew he'd come after me. The assassination attempt was a set-up, as I'm sure you have realized. I wasn't supposed to die, just disappear. They took me and Ian to the yacht immediately. Hearst tried to make me sign that contract but I wouldn't. We never left that cabin – until Ian jumped the guard and got out. I don't know what happened but there was a terrible scuffle and I heard shots. Then they took me up to the main deck and showed me his body. I thought that was it. Ian had kept me going. Without him there, I had no choice but to sign. I thought they'd won . . .' His voice trailed off.
