Sharp Shot Read online

  Inside the middle of the horseshoe, two men wheeled rapidly about on office chairs. They moved swiftly and efficiently between computers and phones, monitors and keyboards.

  “The big question is why?” Ardman went on. “Once we know that, everything else will fall into place.”

  “The big question is where’s Jade?” said Rich.

  “With respect, that’s not the big question.”

  “But—”

  Rich felt his dad’s hand on his shoulder. “Ardman’s right. Knowing where Jade is won’t tell us what’s going on or what Darrow wants. But if we work out what he’s after, that will tell us where he’s gone.”

  “Probably,” Halford growled.

  Ardman sighed. “Actually, Rich is probably right,” he admitted. “The answers to any questions at all right now would be helpful.”

  “So what do we know?” Chance demanded.

  “Not a lot.” Ardman counted the points off on his fingers as he spoke. “We know that Darrow went to your cottage looking for you. He claimed he was being chased and in trouble, and that does appear to be born out by events.” He looked at Rich for confirmation.

  Rich nodded. “The Americans were after him, and us, but not until later according to Chuck. There was someone after him right from the start, at the cottage. They had guns, cars…” He shrugged. “I didn’t really see who they were though. And Darrow wasn’t really happy talking about it.”

  “So we know he’s in trouble and he comes to you.” Ardman pointed at Chance. “But we also know that before he came looking for you, he called on Ferdy McCain—the real McCain.”

  “And murdered him,” said Halford quietly.

  “With respect, we cannot know that for sure. It may be that these mysterious pursuers killed McCain after Darrow saw him, or maybe Darrow was never there. Although Goddard tells me the local police did get a description that matches our friend Mr Darrow from one of the neighbours. He was asking after McCain the day before.”

  “Either way,” Chance cut in, “Darrow came looking for me. And when I wasn’t there, he pretended to be McCain, presumably because if Rich and Jade contacted me I’d be more likely to talk to McCain than to Darrow. Which is certainly true. Ferdy was a good bloke,” he added quietly.

  “But they can’t contact you, so Darrow takes them with him. Probably as leverage to get you to meet him later.”

  “But he still has Jade,” said Chance. “And he wants something from me. But what?”

  “I’m afraid there may be only one way to find out,” said Ardman. “Are you all set up for the cottage, Pete?” he called across to one of the two technicians.

  “Phone will divert here, sir,” Pete confirmed. He ran a hand over his very short hair. “Alan’s hacked into the traffic camera on the routes in and out of the village, and Goddard’s coordinating with the local coppers so they’ll keep a low profile.”

  “We’ve got satellite coverage coming up in a few minutes. The French security services were kind enough to lend us one of their birds that has a pretty good angle at the moment.” Alan added.

  “That was unusually kind of them,” said Chance.

  “Oh, they don’t know about it,” said Alan, grinning. “They think it’s over Dinard keeping an eye on the nuclear power station there. But actually they’re watching footage from last month. Let’s just hope the weather is roughly the same for a bit, otherwise they might realise they’ve got a bit of a technical fault.”

  “Too much information, thank you,” said Ardman. “I don’t need or want to know the details.”

  “Can’t the Americans help?” asked Rich. “They must have satellites you could use, and the CIA want Darrow.”

  Ardman spoke slowly and carefully. “There are a few misconceptions in your statement, young man. First, the Americans would tell us that they don’t have satellites looking down on Britain, as we are their favourite allies.”

  Behind him Pete cleared his throat, and Alan shuffled his feet.

  Ardman glared at them. “That is what they would tell us,” he said sternly. “And second, I doubt very much if the CIA know that there are American agents looking for Mark Darrow. Mr White and Miss Hunter and their colleagues are with a different American security service.”

  “The FBI?” asked Rich.

  “They don’t operate outside the US,” Halford told him.

  Before Rich could say anything else, Ardman went on: “The important thing is that we have your cottage fully covered, John. Darrow wants something, and he knows you’ll talk to him if he’s got Jade. So when he makes contact, we’ll be ready and waiting. And then, once we have more information, we can decide what action to take.”

  “The most important thing is that we get Jade back safe and sound,” said Chance.

  “I agree that is currently the way it looks,” said Ardman.

  “What do you mean, currently?” demanded Rich. “What could change that? Jade’s always going to be the most important thing. Isn’t she, Dad?” He turned to his father, expecting him to agree immediately.

  But instead, John Chance looked to Ardman.

  “However much we want to get your sister back,” Ardman said, “our priorities may have to change when we find out what it is that Darrow wants in return.”

  As she walked slowly back down the stairs, Jade felt numb. She was in the middle of nowhere. There wasn’t even a road that she could see through the desert. The building she was in—a villa or whatever it was—looked very big from the size of the roof, and it was several storeys high. There were large parts she had still not explored.

  But what—and who—would she find? So far there was no sign of life. Nothing to indicate there was anyone else here at all. Yet someone had brought Jade here, someone had taken her shoes off and put her to bed, leaving fresh clothes and a bath full of water that was still warm…

  Without really thinking about it, Jade kept going down the stairs. It took her a moment to realise she’d passed the floor where her room was, but she decided to keep going and see what was on the floor below.

  The answer was: nothing. The stairs ended in a small, empty, whitewashed room. There was a thin layer of sand on the floor. Maybe it was a storage area, except there was nothing stored down here. A single, bare, electric bulb cast a harsh light over the walls and floor. Jade turned to go back up the stairs.

  Then she stopped. The sand by one wall was scuffed about, as if someone had walked through it. But it was so close to the wall that no one could have done. If it really was a wall…

  Jade ran her hand over the rough stonework. She couldn’t feel anything out of the ordinary. She pushed, and the wall was unforgiving. She moved along, pressing at another point. Was it her imagination, or did the surface move under her hand, just the tiniest amount? She put her shoulder to the wall and leaned—and while it didn’t appear to move, she did hear a rough scraping sound of stone rubbing on sand…

  It took her several minutes of experimentation to find exactly the right point to apply pressure. Then the mechanism activated, and the whole wall hinged open like a door. Cautiously, Jade stepped through. She didn’t dare close the door behind her—she might need to retreat in a hurry, and she didn’t want to have to spend forever finding the release mechanism on the other side.

  At first she thought the hidden door led nowhere. She was just in another room—long and narrow, but still quite small. Then she saw her reflection looking back at her from the other end, and realised the whole of the far wall was actually a window.

  She approached slowly and warily, in case there was anyone on the other side, but all she could see was a vaulted stone roof. Until she got closer, and realised that the window was high above the enormous chamber below. She was in some sort of observation gallery. Jade looked down into the chamber.

  She could hear nothing; the glass must be incredibly thick. There were several people in the chamber—they looked like scientists and technicians in white lab coats, which contrasted with their
dark skin. One was working at a table almost directly below Jade, putting test tubes into a centrifuge. Another was at a computer. He turned and gestured to one of his colleagues.

  Further into the chamber, a woman pushed her arms into thick plastic sheaths and gloves that reached into a sealed glass cabinet. Whatever was inside, she didn’t want to handle it directly.

  The chamber must stretch right under the building. Jade could just make out more white-coated figures in the distance. Whatever they were doing, there was a seriousness and professionalism that frightened Jade. She was witnessing something she wasn’t supposed to see. The situation she was in didn’t offer her many advantages, but maybe this was one. So long as they didn’t find out what she knew, Jade thought, that gave her an edge.

  Except that she didn’t know who ‘they’ were, and she had no idea what it was that she was looking at. The scientists and technicians could be testing a satellite, synthesising drugs, or baking a cake. She guessed that baking a cake was pretty unlikely, but the options were still too numerous to be helpful.

  Jade backed slowly out of the observation gallery, pushed the secret door closed, and started back up the stairs.

  There was a lot more of the building still to explore. But she needed to think. If she went the other way down the passage from her room, she was confident she would find people—maybe a kitchen, possibly guards. But for the moment no one knew she was out of her room, or even awake. She had spotted no cameras, and was sure no one had seen or heard her.

  Since she obviously wasn’t going anywhere, Jade decided she might as well have that bath and consider what to do next.

  Soaking in the luxuriously cool water, Jade decided on her plan of action. She needed to know as much as possible about the place, and she needed to keep the extent of her knowledge secret. Eventually someone would come to find her, and the more she knew by then the more she might glean from them.

  And you never knew. If there was a secret underground laboratory, then maybe there was transport of some sort, or a telephone that she could use to call Ardman or Halford.

  She was glad of the bath, and felt a lot better for it. But she didn’t want to waste any more time. Whoever had left her here—McCain, or the man with the scar, or someone else—might think it was safe enough to leave her unattended in a building in the middle of the desert, but Jade was determined to prove them wrong.

  She dried herself quickly, and slipped on the white silk dressing gown. She was rubbing at her hair with the towel as she walked briskly back into the bedroom. But the clothes that had been left on the chair were no longer there. They were lying neatly on the dressing table nearby.

  Put there, Jade realised, by the man who was now sitting in the chair. Watching her.

  He was wearing white robes and an Arab headdress. His face was as wrinkled as a prune—even more so as he smiled up at Jade. His eyes were deep and dark, and a neatly trimmed grey beard clung to his chin. As he shifted slightly in the chair to see Jade better, she caught sight of the curved sword hanging at his side.

  “Who the hell are you?” Jade demanded. “And why am I here—wherever here is?”

  The man inclined his head slightly, as if Jade had paid him a compliment. “My name is Ali,” he said, his accented voice deep and rich. “I am honoured to have you as my guest, Miss Chance.”

  “Believe me, the honour is all yours.”

  The man pressed his hands together, fingertip to fingertip. “I am sorry that you have to stay here for a short while. But if all goes well, you will be able to leave in a very few days.”

  “You reckon?”

  “In the mean time, please—my humble house is your home. You may swim in the pool, sunbathe in the roof garden, order what you like from my kitchens…though I warn you they are not as well stocked as they might be. You may walk outside the house if you wish, but I would caution you not to go too far as the sun is hot and the desert is unforgiving.”

  “Is that a threat?”

  Ali shook his head. “A statement. If you want to walk out into the desert and die of heat and dehydration no one will stop you, and no one will go looking. Or if you prefer there is a snooker hall, and a small cinema with many American DVDs.” He smiled apologetically. “No alcohol, I’m afraid.”

  “I don’t drink.”

  “Then that will not be a problem.”

  “And I’m not staying. You can get a helicopter here right now and send me home.”

  “I’m sorry.” Ali stood up. “I can make your stay here as pleasant as possible, but you will not be going home just yet. Soon, I hope, but not yet.” He walked to the door, and paused for a moment.

  “Take comfort in the fact that, albeit indirectly, you are doing my country the very greatest service just by being here. My people will be truly grateful.”

  He pressed his hands together again, bowed, and left.

  11

  The waiting was the worst. Rich hated it. He felt so useless and just wished there was something he could do, but he knew that Ardman’s team was doing everything they could.

  There was actually lots to do. And though playing billiards with Dad in the snooker room of the enormous mansion did take his mind of things for a while, Rich felt guilty when he remembered why they were there. And as well as being worried about Jade, he missed her.

  “What if Darrow doesn’t call?” Rich asked Chance as they played.

  “He will.”

  Chance sounded confident. But Rich had noticed the slight hesitation before his father answered him. “Course he will,” said Rich quietly. “I mean, he has to, doesn’t he.”

  The absent Algernon had been good enough to leave his cook and some of his staff behind, so there was no shortage of good food or people to get it. But Rich didn’t feel hungry and he spent most of his time sitting at the back of the library watching Alan and Pete laughing and joking and checking their equipment. Neither of them seemed to sleep, and they ate a constant selection of sandwiches and snacks washed down with a never-ending stream of coffee.

  The phones rang frequently, and whenever they did, Rich held his breath until it was obvious that the call wasn’t from Darrow.

  He barely slept that night. His bed was an ancient four-poster with heavy drapes tied back from the sides, and sheets and blankets rather than a duvet. It was unfamiliar and uncomfortable, and Rich was so tired he couldn’t get to sleep. Several times he almost drifted off, his eyes closing and his mind clearing. Then he’d jolt awake again as he thought of Jade or heard an owl in the grounds outside.

  The call came the next morning. Rich and Chance were walking in the extensive grounds, but keeping close to the house. Pete had routed the cottage phone to Chance’s mobile. Somehow, Rich knew as soon as it rang that this was it.

  Chance checked the number of the incoming call before answering. He looked at Rich, and Rich could see the sudden anger and determination in his dad’s eyes. Then Chance was running back towards the house. Rich guessed he was leaving it as long as he dared before answering. Pete and Alan would already know the call was from the cottage number—a reroute —and be tracing it.

  Like Rich, they’d all be hoping it wasn’t just an innocent call from a friend or a double-glazing sales rep.

  Rich didn’t hear the start of the conversation, but as soon as they entered the library he could hear a voice he recognised coming through the speakers. The man who had told Rich he was Ferdy McCain—the man who now had Jade. Mark Darrow.

  “…and I’m sure you have lots of friends with you, maybe even the resourceful Rich. The equally resourceful Jade is…” the voice hesitated. “Well, let’s just say she’s safe.”

  “She had better be,” Chance growled into the phone. His voice too was amplified through the speakers.

  “Oh she’s having the time of her life. Let’s just hope it isn’t the last time of her life, eh?”

  Rich wanted to grab the phone and yell down it, but he knew it would do no good. He saw his father’s grip on t
he phone tighten.

  “If anything happens to Jade,” said Chance, menacingly calm, “you know you’ll never sleep soundly again.”

  “I don’t think I’ll be the only one though, will I, John?” Darrow sounded upbeat and confident. In control. “So let’s make sure it doesn’t come to that.”

  “What do you want?”

  Alan was working at the computers behind them. The monitor displayed a map of the world. A series of numbers flashed across it, ever changing. The map was slowly zooming in…

  “I want your help, simple as that. I came to find you, John, and you weren’t there. I was in a hurry, in trouble. I had to improvise.”

  “You didn’t have to take my children.”

  “I suppose I could have left them there to get shot.”

  “You didn’t have to take them hostage.”

  “Like I said, I need your help. And with Jade as my guest, I can be sure of getting it. Right?”

  The map on the monitor showed Britain. It zoomed in on the location of the Chance’s cottage. Numbers sped across the screen, and a line appeared from the cottage heading off to the east. Alan moved his mouse, and the image panned across, following the line. It got as far as London, then headed off again in another direction.

  “Cutouts and reroutes,” said Alan quietly.

  Ardman nodded. “Do what you can,” he mouthed.

  “I’m in a bit of trouble,” Darrow was saying.

  “You’re telling me,” Chance retorted.

  “No, really. You see, I owe some people some money. Money they paid me for certain services, which in the event I was unable to provide.”

  “You mean someone else killed him first?”

  “Please, let’s not be unpleasant. And sarcasm doesn’t help either, you know, John.”

  Chance’s jaw tightened. “Just tell me what you want, Darrow.”