Death Run (16 page)

Jade backed slowly away. The poacher ended his call and moved off deeper into the woods. As soon as she felt safe, Jade turned and ran. She called Halford on her mobile, hoping the signal would hold. But all she got was his answer service – her mobile might be connecting, but his wasn't.

By the time she got back to the inlet she could see no sign of the little boat. Halford was heading into a trap and there was no way Jade could warn him.

Rich and the Banker had talked for a long time. There didn't seem to be any way out of it. If they didn't give the Tiger the information he wanted, he would kill them. But the Banker said he didn't know it – the data was written down, and his daughter had that safe. His daughter who could be dead for all he knew. Rich didn't press the man on the subject.

And in any case, it seemed to Rich that if they did somehow get the information the Tiger wanted, he would kill them once he had it. A lose-lose scenario.

“Even if Eleri is all right,” the Banker said sadly, “she must be in Mr Ardman's care. He isn't likely to allow her to get the access codes and account numbers to us.”

“Let's just hope she's got them safe,” Rich said glumly.

“Oh, quite safe,” the Banker said. “You see, we had the information etched, with a laser—”

He broke off as the door suddenly opened. The Tiger stepped into the room. From his demeanour and bearing, Rich knew at once it was him.

“You're early,” Rich said.

“Such wit,” the Tiger replied. “I can see that we're in for a treat tomorrow.” He turned to go, then paused. “I knew there was something.” He turned back, his face split by an unpleasant smile. “I just had a telephone call from a local gentleman who has my interests at heart. I thought I would pass on the message.”

“And what's that?” Rich asked. It didn't look from the Tiger's smile as if it would be good news.

“Well, I don't know if you are aware that at this very moment a couple of your friends are attempting a daring and dramatic rescue. With a boat and everything.”

Rich looked at the Banker – could it be true?

“A man and a girl,” the Tiger went on. “So very sad. I just wanted to tell you that I'm afraid the rescue
is…” He paused, licking his lips as he savoured the moment. “… And I think this phrase is particularly apt. Dead in the water.”

With a sudden guffaw of laughter at his own joke, the Tiger turned to leave. But then he paused, and turned back.

“Bannock – there are no windows in this room.”

“No, sir.”

“That's not good at all. Please see that my guests are moved to a more convenient room. One that has a good view of where our infrared cameras have picked up the boat. I'd hate them to miss the show.”

Chance had managed to squeeze a small bag of clothes and equipment into the cockpit with him. He quickly pulled on dark trousers and a sweater and jacket over the top of his LARM flight suit.

He tossed the bag on to the passenger seat of the performance blue Ford Focus ST. It was parked at the side of the service road, close to the runway where the Tornado had come to a stop. Beside it was an illuminated sign warning that the speed limit on the base was 20mph. Chance assumed that applied to the roads not the runways.

“You will take care of it,” Wing Commander ‘Flip' Anderson said anxiously.

“Like it was my own,” Chance assured him, climbing in.

Anderson didn't look much encouraged. “Only had it a month. Got nearly as many gadgets and controls as the Tornado. Still working some of them out.”

“Which one's the ejector seat?” Chance asked with a grin.

“You sure it'll be all right?”

“I'm only driving thirty miles to the coast.” Chance adjusted the position of the seat and the rear-view mirror. “What could possibly happen?”

“Well…” But Anderson's comment was lost in the guttural sound of the engine.

The car reached 60mph before it got to the gates.

Chance had pulled up a map of the area round Calder in the plane and memorised the useful details. There was a small wood on the coast closest to the castle. But if he drove past that, the road doubled back after ten miles and then came out at a point on the seafront further along. It was a greater distance across to the castle, but it was probably a good place from which to assess what was going on, and he'd
have the car with him ready for a quick getaway or a rendezvous elsewhere. For the moment, Chance was on his own. But he was expecting Ardman to arrange company for him very soon.

He got company quicker than he expected.

Twenty minutes after leaving the RAF base, Chance was passing the wood he had seen on the map. He thought he caught a glimpse of another car in the black of the night, parked off the edge of the road, almost in the trees. But as he glanced over he saw something else, further ahead.

A figure stepped out of the trees and walked into the road – right in the path of the car.

Chance slammed on the brakes. The anti-lock light flashed on as he tried to steer away from the man. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion, and Chance could make out every detail of the figure picked out in the brilliant glare of the headlights as he stood motionless in the road.

The man was wearing a long dark coat that flapped in the wind, revealing a dark suit beneath. Despite the fact that it was pitch-black apart from Chance's headlights, he was wearing dark glasses.

And he had judged it perfectly. The car screeched
to a halt less that a metre short of the man, who nodded appreciatively.

Chance was already pulling his handgun from the bag on the passenger seat. He tucked it into the back of his trousers out of sight, then got out of the car. “What the hell do you think you're doing?” he yelled at the man.

The man smiled back and took off his glasses. “I'm pleased to see you too, my friend. Any chance of a lift?”

Chance stared in disbelief. “Ralph? But – how did you know it was me?”

Ralph shrugged. “Who else would be driving like a maniac along this road in the middle of the night?” He opened the passenger door. “You mind if I move your bag?”

The room was right at the top of one of the towers. The top of the tower had been glassed in like a conservatory, except the glass was a geodesic dome of angled panels. There was a small metal telescope set up on a bracket at one side, facing in the direction of the mainland. Not that Rich could see the mainland. In fact, he could see hardly anything, the night was so dark.

Bannock had pushed Rich and the Banker out of the stone staircase that emerged into the room, and then pulled the heavy wooden door closed behind them. The sound of his laughter was cut off by the slam of the door.

“I don't know what he thinks we'll be able to see from up here,” the Banker said.

The place was lit by small but powerful lamps set into the stone floor. The light cast eerie shadows across the glass dome. Rich walked quickly to the telescope. Maybe it was infrared. But through it he could see almost nothing. A dark mass that might be the mainland, but no sign of a boat. Or of Jade.

“Whatever he's planning,” Rich said, “it'll be something we
can
see. He'll have light when he wants it. But Jade and Dad – or whoever it is – they don't know they're heading into a trap.”

“And we can't warn them. Not from up here.”

Rich wasn't so sure. “If we had a torch, we could shine a warning.”

“But shine it where?”

“All round. Up here we could make this tower into a sort of lighthouse.”

“Except,” the Banker pointed out, “we don't have a light.”

Rich knelt down beside one of the lamps in the floor. It was protected by a thick glass cover, but there was a slightly raised metal rim. “If I can prise this open, we can get the lamp from inside.”

“I doubt it will come out.”

“We won't know unless we try, will we?”

He could feel his nails tearing as he scrabbled to get them under the metal rim. It was a slow and frustrating process, but Rich thought he could feel the thing moving. Soon he was sure, and the warm metal rim and the glass cover came away in his hand.

The Banker joined him and shielded his eyes from the glare of the lamp. The glass had been slightly tinted, so beneath the cover the light was even brighter. It was hot too. Rich could feel the heat as he reached for the bulb and snatched his hand away.

“The bulb on its own isn't much use,” the Banker pointed out.

“Have you got a hanky or something I can use as a glove?” Rich was already wrapping his own hanky round his fingers. Would it be enough to stop him getting burned? “It looks like the bulb is just connected to a wire. There may be some slack in it.”

The Banker handed Rich his hanky. “You could be right. Let's pray you are…”

Rich managed to lift the bulb and its connector out of the housing and on to the stone floor. But the wire was only about a metre long. “We can't lift it high enough.” He looked round. “I doubt if any of the others are much different, even if we had time to get at them all and see.”

Lights came on in the castle courtyard below. They could see through the dome that Bannock and a group of other men were walking quickly across the castle and climbing the battlements further along. In the dim light from the courtyard, Rich could see them setting up searchlights. And something that looked like a gun.

“We could try shining the light through the telescope, if it comes free,” the Banker suggested. “Though that will only shine it upwards.”

Rich ran to the telescope. It was fixed to a tilting bracket, but the fastenings were badly rusted, and Rich guessed it had been there for longer than the glass dome. The damp, salty sea air had done them a favour, and a good wrench got the telescope free of the bracket. The Banker was right: clamping the
telescope over the light shone a focused beam upwards. Rich put his hand over it.

“We need something to angle it down again,” the Banker said.

“Your glasses?”

They tried, but the thick pebble lenses only diffused the light. Rich tried angling the tinted glass cover he had pulled free, but that did no good either – the light just shone through it.

“We need something like a prism,” the Banker said. “Perhaps if we smashed the dome we might get a piece of angled glass.”

“A prism! Of course.” Rich rummaged frantically in his pockets. “Don't say I've lost it.”

“Lost what?”

“This!” Rich pulled the large diamond triumphantly from his pocket.

The Banker's mouth dropped open in astonishment.

“I got it from Eleri,” Rich explained. He held it over the light shining up through the telescope. The diamond seemed to glow from within, but by angling it, he managed to catch a facet that deflected the light.

“Do you know what that is?” the Banker asked quietly.

“It's a great big diamond – a huge prism.”

Rich stared into the heart of the stone, marvelling at the way the light reflected round within it. It was almost blue, it was so intense. And right in the heart of the diamond… Rich peered closer. “There's something inside. Very small. Tiny. Looks like writing or something. An imperfection?”

“It is not an imperfection,” the Banker said. “It is a set of numbers. Account numbers and access codes.”

Rich looked at the Banker, the reflected light playing across the man's face and shining off his glasses. “This is where the data is stored?”

“All the information that the Tiger needs. And you had it here all the time. If he finds out – he'll take the diamond. He'll have the money. And he will kill both of us as well as your friends out there.”

“I'm afraid I lied to you in Venice,” Ralph said. “The road forks just up ahead. You want to go right.”

“I know,” Chance told him.

“And I really think you should slow down. You could seriously injure someone.”

“I'm getting close to it,” Chance admitted. “Now, what are you doing here?”

“As I said – I lied to you. My Italian colleagues actually stand to lose an awful lot of money if the Banker hands over the account details. Whether he gives them to you or to the Tiger, they still lose out. So, it was time to call in a favour. They knew that I had certain friends in British Intelligence, and Scevola made it very clear to me what would happen if I didn't make contact on his behalf. He really isn't a very nice man, you know. Just here,” he added, as they reached the fork in the road.

“You want me to get Ardman to let you keep your money?” Chance slowed very slightly for the turn. “I can't do that.”

“That's a pity. A great pity.”

They drove in silence for almost a minute. Then Ralph went on, “You know, I don't mind so much if Ardman and your people get the money. Financially speaking, I don't stand to lose very much at all. But if the Tiger gets it, he will be even richer than he was before. He will be in a position to challenge our business ventures – mine and Signor Scevola's.”

“Can't have that,” Chance replied. “Tell you what – you leave the Tiger to me. Can I drop you somewhere?”

“I knew you'd see sense, my friend. There is one
slight
complication in that Scevola has made it very plain that if I don't persuade you to get his money back, he will kill me.” Ralph grinned suddenly. “But you can leave me to worry about that. You can drop me just before we reach the coast. There is a lay-by that will do. We'll be there in…” He made a point of looking at his watch. “Oh, I knew there was something – sorry, I so nearly forgot.”

“Forgot what?”

“About the watch.”

“What watch?”

“The one I gave Rich. I'm afraid it contains an extra feature.”

Chance felt himself go cold. “What feature?”

“A small, but immensely powerful explosive capsule. Like I said – time to call in the favours. You do a little favour for me, like get my account numbers and passcodes so that Scevola doesn't have me shot. In return, I shall do a little favour for you. Like make sure that explosive capsule isn't triggered by a remote signal from Signor Scevola. Because if it is, Rich will never know the time again.”

The car stopped almost as abruptly as it had when Ralph first stepped in front of it.