by Chris Ryan
Contents
Title Page
SPECIAL FORCES CADETS
Chapter 1: Rebreather
Chapter 2: Eavesdropping
Chapter 3: Missing
Chapter 4: First Class
Chapter 5: Sunlight
Chapter 6: Songbun
Chapter 7: Superglue
Chapter 8: The Fifth Floor
Chapter 9: The Sewer
Chapter 10: Panic
Chapter 11: 1313
Chapter 12: The Bridge
Chapter 13: Prospero
Chapter 14: A Bag of Rice
Chapter 15: The New Deal
Chapter 16: The Call
Chapter 17: Chai
Chapter 18: Searchlight
Chapter 19: Full 180
Chapter 20: 04:00 Hours
Chapter 21: Dmz
Chris Ryan
Copyright
SPECIAL FORCES CADETS
Siege
Missing
Look out for
Justice
Ruthless
Hijack
Assassin
1
Rebreather
‘Hands up if you want to drown.’
The man asking the question had wavy black hair, a black beard and heavy eyebrows. His eyes were dark and so was his expression. His name was Hector, and the five teenagers standing in a line knew he wasn’t joking. Nobody moved.
‘Hands up if you want enemy snipers to locate you because bubbles of your breath reach the surface.’
Max Johnson looked beyond Hector to the still surface of the lake. It was March, and very cold. The water was inky. Tendrils of mist rose from it. He imagined gunmen with high-powered sniper rifles camouflaged in the scrub that covered the steep, rocky slopes on either side of the water.
He kept his arm, clad in a tight-fitting wetsuit, firmly down.
‘Hands up if you want to risk coming to the surface too early because you’ve run out of oxygen.’
Max glanced left and right. His fellow cadets were watching Hector carefully. Lukas, a black boy from the gang-ridden streets of Compton, Los Angeles, wore his usual frown. Max had only recently learned that it didn’t necessarily mean he was in a bad mood. Sami, a slender Syrian street kid, was shivering in the early-morning cold, but trying not to let it show. Lili was Chinese. Her long black hair was pulled back from her face and she fixed Hector with a fierce, intelligent gaze. Nothing got past her. Abby, born and raised in a tough Northern Ireland prison, had pale skin, blue eyes, thick brown hair and a double cartilage piercing in her left ear. She looked moody. ‘Hands up,’ she muttered under her breath, ‘if you’d rather go back to bed.’
‘Button it,’ Hector said.
‘Ah, c’mon, Hector,’ Abby replied. ‘What is it, five thirty in the morning? We haven’t even had breakfast yet.’ She hugged her body. ‘I’m freezing.’
This was precisely the wrong thing to say to Hector. Two months ago, Max, Lukas, Sami, Abby and Lili had been badged as Special Forces Cadets. The cadets were a secret team of young soldiers. They existed to perform missions where adult Special Forces would be too conspicuous. It meant they had to be hyper-fit, highly trained and prepared to endure almost any hardship.
‘If you can’t manage an early morning and a bit of weather, young lady, say the word,’ Hector said.
‘Ah, Hector.’ Abby smiled at him. ‘You’re in the sweetest mood this morning. Did you have a lovely dream about making teenagers cry with exhaustion?’
Hector grunted. Abby was the only one who could talk to him like that. She was a charmer, in a blunt kind of way.
‘So,’ Hector continued, ‘when we need to cross a body of water unobserved and we want to stay submerged for a substantial period of time, we use one of these.’ He indicated five packs by the water’s edge, each of them a mass of tubes and hard casing. ‘These pieces of apparatus are called rebreathers. Rebreathers provide oxygen and remove carbon dioxide in an enclosed environment. So, unlike scuba-diving gear, no bubbles. The same technology is used in mine rescue, mountaineering, even in space. But today …’ He turned and looked meaningfully towards the lake. ‘Today, underwater.’
Max shivered. The water was not inviting.
‘Your rebreathers can keep you under for up to six hours. I wouldn’t recommend spending that long in these waters unless you want to contract hypothermia. Which you don’t, by the way. Your objective this morning is to reach the far end of the lake without reappearing above the surface of the water.’
Max squinted. The far end of the lake was not visible.
‘Distance, about one mile.’
Just a couple of months ago, Max would have found that a ludicrous instruction. But that was the old Max. The new Max, the Special Forces Cadet Max, had grown accustomed to being given seemingly impossible tasks and expected just to get on with them. As Hector never tired of saying: if Max wanted to be spoon-fed, he’d come to the wrong place.
‘But it will be dark underwater,’ Sami said. ‘How do we know we’re going the right way?’
Hector pointed to a separate pile of equipment. ‘Swim boards,’ he announced. ‘You hold them in front of you while you’re underwater. Each one has an illuminated compass and depth gauge. Regular Special Forces might also use a special underwater GPS system, but I’m not here to make life easier for you.’
‘You don’t say,’ Abby muttered, earning herself another dark look from Hector. ‘Ah well,’ she said. ‘I guess it beats sitting in a classroom learning Morse code.’ The previous day, Abby had been vocal about Hector’s insistence that they learn Morse, but her reluctance had had precisely zero effect on the Watcher.
‘Where are Woody and Angel?’ Max asked. For the past two months of intensive training, Woody and Angel had been their constant companions. Along with Hector and Martha – the stern, unsympathetic matron back at Valley House where they all lived – Woody and Angel were the cadets’ Watchers. And they’d certainly been watching them. They had been on the range while the cadets practised their shooting skills. They had roared encouragement as the cadets ran up bleak mountainsides, on the verge of exhaustion. They had taught them navigation skills, survival skills, surveillance skills, how to drive, how to pick locks and how to move unseen around the countryside. They were like an elder brother and sister to each of the cadets, full of advice, support and friendship.
But today, there was no sign of them.
‘In case you were wondering, Woody and Angel don’t have to check in with you,’ Hector said with a curl of his lip. Max was used to Hector treating him differently. More aggressively. He understood why – he and Hector had a complicated history – but that didn’t make it easier. ‘Get your rebreathers on and grab your swim boards. You’ll be entering the water at two-minute intervals. Move.’
The rebreather was heavier than it looked. Max figured this was because of the oxygen pack. He clipped the apparatus to his body and placed the mask over his face. It fitted tightly. Hector went around the cadets checking the equipment was properly fitted. He handed each of them a swim board. The compass at the front glowed only faintly in the grey morning light. Max knew it would be brighter in the murky water. He got his bearings: the far end of the lake was in a north-westerly direction. So long as he kept that trajectory when he was underwater, he should be okay …
‘You first,’ Hector told Max. The older man took him by the arm and forced him to the water’s edge. The water was icy, even through Max’s neoprene shoes. He knew better, however, than to appear reluctant. Steeling himself against the bitter cold, he waded into the water. Clutching his swim board, he dived like a salmon. The cold water knocked the air from his lungs. He found he was unable to control his breat
hing. He inhaled sharply as a matter of reflex. If he had not been wearing a rebreather, he would have a lungful of lake water. He breathed out slowly, trying to regulate himself. His heels were still splashing above the water. He kicked hard and plunged deeper, holding the swim board at arm’s length.
The compass did indeed glow brighter underwater. Max saw he had already moved a few degrees off-course. He readjusted his direction as he continued to swim deeper into the lake. He knew that if he broke the surface at any point, Hector would make him repeat the exercise until he could do it properly. And as he moved further into the depths of the water, it struck him that Hector’s plan was working. Hector had tried to stop Max from joining the cadets. It was a weird way of trying to ensure Max’s safety. Now Hector was going out of his way to ensure Max’s training was as tough as it could be.
Train hard, Hector had told him, fight easy.
His movements were slow and difficult because of the cold. His whole body was like a block of ice, his extremities numb. He estimated that he was about ten metres deep. There was a faint glow of daylight up above, but his visibility in front was poor. He had to trust the compass on his swim board. Down here, there was no other way of navigating.
He swam through a shoal of tiny fish that darted off in different directions. He wondered how far he’d swum. It was almost impossible to tell as he had no real sense of how fast he was moving. He estimated he’d been underwater for seven or eight minutes. That meant the others would be in the lake by now. He suddenly felt competitive. They were all his friends, but that didn’t mean he wanted any of them to beat him to the far end. He kicked harder.
The attack came out of nowhere. Three figures, black-clad and strong, came at him from left, right and front. He was paralysed with panic. Who were these attackers? How had they found out about the Special Forces Cadets? What did they want with him? His slight hesitation gave them enough time to overcome him. Two of them clutched Max’s arms. The third ripped the swim board from his grasp. Max struggled and writhed. He lashed out at the figures, catching one in the face. He heard a muffled grunt of pain – Max was a lot stronger than he had been two months ago – but he couldn’t break free. The figure who had taken the swim board disappeared to the west. Only when the thief was out of sight did the other two loosen their grip on Max. Unlike him, they were wearing flippers. They were fast as they followed the first figure. Within seconds, they had disappeared.
Max’s instinct was to speed after them. He even twisted his body in that direction. But he stopped himself. Here, under the water, he had no way of navigating. If he followed, he’d be lost.
His mind was clearing, the panic receding. He knew what this was. Not a real attack, but a test. He couldn’t tell for sure that the figures had been Hector, Woody and Angel. But since he’d barely seen anyone else in the past two months, he was pretty sure he’d just been attacked by the Watchers.
Train hard, fight easy.
So what should he do?
He couldn’t break the surface. If he did, he would fail the exercise, and he was grimly determined not to let that happen. But nor could he swim blindly underwater. He needed help.
There was no current in the lake. If he didn’t swim, he wouldn’t drift too far. So he stayed still. He felt his body temperature dropping. He moved closer to the surface, guessing it would be warmer there. And he waited.
It took a minute for the next cadet to arrive. The figure appeared through the gloom below him, the swim board glowing faintly. Max plunged down and seized the cadet by the shoulders. The cadet twisted in the water, plainly surprised and perhaps a little scared. Max saw it was Sami. When Sami realised it was only Max, he immediately grew calmer. He inclined his head as if to say: what’s up?
They couldn’t talk underwater, of course. Max had to mime what had happened. Sami seemed to understand. He pointed at his own swim board, indicating that Max should continue next to him. They were preparing to set off when a third figure appeared: Lili. She cut through the water like a fish but stopped when she saw Max and Sami. She inclined her head, just as Sami had done.
Then the Watchers hit again.
They had the element of surprise and they had superior strength. Lili was expert in four martial arts, but they were no use to her underwater. Three against three, the Watchers tore away Sami and Lili’s swim boards in seconds before disappearing.
Lukas arrived. His head was darting left and right. He had no swim board. The Watchers had clearly made their attack, and he was panicking. At first, he appeared relieved to see the others. But when he realised none of them had swim boards he punched the water angrily.
Max noticed something. Nobody had suggested breaking the surface. If the Watchers wanted to play games, that was fine. But there was no way the cadets were going to give in that easily. He pointed back the way they had come. Abby was their last hope. If she lost her swim board, they had no chance of reaching the far end of the lake. The others nodded keenly.
Max led the way back, hoping he was following the right trajectory. He soon realised he was because he could see the glow of a swim board. And attacking from three directions were the familiar figures of the three Watchers.
Max, Sami, Lili and Lukas cut through the water as fast as they could. They reached Abby just as the largest of the figures – who had to be Hector – was ripping the board from her grasp.
The cadets were like the shoal of fish he had seen earlier: fast and agile. Max and Lili cut silently through the water towards Hector. Max grabbed Abby’s swim board. Lili ripped Hector’s rebreathing mask from his face. The Watcher was suddenly surrounded by a fierce cloud of bubbles. Max could just see his expression. He could tell Hector was shocked at the suddenness of their attack. But he had water in his rebreathing apparatus. There was little he could do other than escape to the surface. Max spun round. He saw more bubbles. Lukas and Sami had done the same thing to Woody and Angel. Neutralised, they headed to the surface.
Max handed the swim board back to Abby. She gave him a thumbs-up and checked her trajectory on the glowing compass. The others surrounded her: Max and Lili on either side, Sami above her and Lukas just behind. There were no instructions. The cadet team was thinking as a single unit. They moved as one too, slicing through the icy water in a well-ordered group. Max was on high alert for another attack by the Watchers, but he knew deep down that it wouldn’t come. Their rebreathing apparatus was out of play. The cadets had the upper hand.
It took, Max estimated, forty-five minutes to reach the far end of the lake. With each stroke, he felt his energy sapping, thanks to the low temperature and the exertion. But the cadets kept their shape and, when the water suddenly became shallow enough for them to stand, they emerged in an arrowhead formation. Water sluiced from their bodies. Each of them was shivering. But they had done it.
Max heard a buzzing. He removed his rebreathing mask and looked back. A speedboat was emerging from the mist that had settled on the lake. He squinted. Hector was at the wheel. Woody and Angel were behind him. Angel’s fiery red hair, pulled back in a tight ponytail, almost glowed in the mist. Woody’s sandy hair and broken nose normally made him seem oddly friendly, but now his brow was furrowed, his expression serious. The cadets stood, ankle deep, watching the speedboat approach.
‘So, er, did we do well?’ Sami said.
‘We worked as a team,’ Lili replied.
‘It was the right thing to do,’ Sami agreed earnestly.
‘I think that’s what they wanted us to do,’ Abby said.
Lukas scowled. ‘I think they just wanted to make our lives more difficult.’ Max knew his friend well enough to realise he’d be embarrassed at having lost his swim board.
‘Ah well,’ Abby said, ‘at least we worked up an appetite, hey? By the way, thanks for helping out back there. I could probably have fought them off myself, but you know … the more the merrier.’
Max said nothing. The speedboat was close. It swerved round to come to a sideways halt clos
e to the shore, sending a wave almost up to the cadets’ knees. The three Watchers were wet and they wore steely expressions. From the back of the boat, Angel caught Max’s eye. She gave him a thumbs-up, which meant: you did well.
But there were no congratulations from Hector. ‘Will you stop standing around feeling pleased with yourselves,’ he bellowed. ‘A job’s come in. You’re being deployed!’
Max blinked. He looked around at his fellow cadets. They were all staring at the speedboat in surprise.
‘What are you, stupid?’ Hector screamed. ‘Get into the boat! Now!’
2
Eavesdropping
There was no way they could ask what was happening during the journey back across the lake. The motor was too loud and there was spray in their faces. The cadets were shivering, their hands mottled blue.
The lake was situated at the far end of the valley they now thought of as home. Still wearing their diving gear, they bundled into a minibus. It sped over rough ground, past a forested area and a gun range, towards a bleak old stone building. This was Valley House. It was where they ate and slept. It was also where they spent their free time, though there wasn’t much of that. The Watchers seemed to have something for them to do every waking moment.
The minibus screeched to a halt in between the house and some iron Nissen huts the cadets had used during selection. They exited the bus and, with frozen limbs, tramped into Valley House. As they moved along the corridor, Max couldn’t help glancing at the pictures that lined the wall. One was an old photo showing a young man whose features were almost identical to Max’s. He knew now that it was his late father, who had founded the Special Forces Cadets many years ago. Hector had been a friend of Max’s father, and blamed himself for his death. That was why he was tougher on Max than on the others. He wanted to ensure that Max truly had the tools to stay alive in their dangerous business.
