Bodyguard: Ransom (Book 2) (15 page)

‘I wouldn’t recommend sunbathing under that tree,’ said Connor as Chloe and Emily laid down their towels on the pristine beach.

‘Why not?’ said Emily, the corner of her lips curling up into a tease. ‘Worried about dropbears?’

‘Not this time,’ Connor replied with a glance up into the canopy. ‘Coconuts.’

As if to prove his point, a large brown husk fell from a nearby palm and plopped heavily into the sand. Brad had warned Connor about the danger, recounting a story of an old rock star who’d had his skull cracked open by one.

Emily and Chloe quickly retrieved their towels.

‘So where
do
you suggest?’ asked Chloe.

‘Try this one,’ said Ling, patting the trunk of a tall tree with thick waxy-green leaves. ‘It’s a takamaka – no danger of falling nuts here.’

Upon the instruction of Mr Sterling, Captain Locke had sailed the
Orchid
round the southern tip of Mahé Island to Anse Takamaka, a secluded beach named after the
abundance of the tree species. The idyllic horseshoe bay was like a scene straight out of Robinson Crusoe, pure white sand fringed with palms and crystal-blue waves rippling along the shoreline.

Chloe repositioned her towel, lay down and stretched herself out in the sun. ‘Now this is the life,’ she said, taking out a glossy teen magazine, sunscreen, headphones and her smartphone from her beach bag.

Joining her sister, Emily had an equal array of light entertainment, but ignored it in favour of watching the white-tailed birds and multicoloured butterflies flitting among the lush vegetation surrounding them. The beach was utterly unspoilt by human habitation. Mr Sterling and Ms Ryder were relaxing on sunloungers brought over on the tender. Sophie and another stewardess were serving them drinks and ensuring their every need was met. The girls had decided they wanted to be further down the beach, away from the doting couple, and Mr Sterling hadn’t objected as long as Connor and Ling accompanied them.

Connor and Ling put down their Go-bags and prepared for a day of sunbathing. As Ling got out her towel, she gave Connor a sly grin and whispered, ‘This is going to be a breeze if all we have to worry about are coconuts!’

Looking up and down the deserted beach, Connor couldn’t help but agree. There was no one who could hassle the girls, no apparent threats, just glorious sun, sand and sea. The recipe for a perfect holiday.

Connor rifled through his Go-bag for sunscreen and the
paperback book he’d bought at the airport, then he sat down and did another visual sweep of the area. The coast was utterly clear. No other boats, aside from the
Orchid
anchored beyond the bay.

‘You can take first watch,’ said Ling, lying back on her towel and closing her eyes.

But no sooner had Ling got comfortable than Chloe said, ‘Ling, get me a drink.’

Ling sat back up, a flicker of irritation passing across her face before asking, ‘What would you like?’

Chloe waved a hand in the direction of the tender. ‘Chef should have put in a pitcher of fresh lemonade.’

‘Ooh, that sounds good,’ said Emily. ‘Can I have one too?’

‘Of course,’ said Ling, getting to her feet. ‘I’ll bring the whole pitcher.’ She strode over to where Sophie was talking with Brad and Dan near the moored tender.

While Ling was busy collecting the drinks, Emily turned to Connor. ‘Would you mind inflating my lilo for me, please? I fancy a float in the sea.’

‘Sure,’ said Connor, delving into his Go-bag and retrieving the inflatable silver mattress he’d been given earlier. Putting the valve to his lips, he began the slow process of blowing it up.

Ling returned with a tray of four iced lemonades and the pitcher. Chloe necked hers in one, asked for another, then plugged in her earphones and lay face down on her towel. Once Emily had got her drink, Ling offered a glass to Connor, who was still puffing away.

‘Thanks,’ he gasped, taking a large gulp of lemonade, its ice-cold zest refreshing him. After a dozen more lungfuls of air, the lilo was fully inflated.

‘Here you go,’ said Connor.

‘Great,’ said Emily, taking the lilo and trotting down to the shoreline.

While Emily paddled in the shallows and her sister lay sprawled in the sun, Connor and Ling were left to their own devices. With nothing to do, Ling stretched out on her towel and sunbathed too. Seeing Emily happily floating on the water, Connor picked up his book and began to read.

After a while, Brad strolled over. ‘I’m just taking Mr Sterling and Ms Ryder back to the boat. I’ll return to collect the girls for lunch. All good here?’

Connor nodded. Chloe was laid out, eyes closed and humming to a song on her headphones, while Emily still lay on her lilo, bobbing gently on the waves.

‘Well, don’t work too hard!’ warned Brad with a playful wink.

Connor heard the tender depart, then settled back into his book.

He’d only read a couple of chapters when Ling sat up and nudged him.

‘Do you think Emily’s all right?’

Connor looked up. Emily was flat out on her lilo, almost thirty metres from the shore. Last time he’d looked, she had only been some ten metres away.

Putting aside his book, Connor jogged down to the waterline. ‘Emily,’ he called.

But she didn’t respond. By the looks of it she’d fallen asleep. With a growing sense of panic, Connor realized her lilo was caught in a current and she was now drifting fast out to sea.

‘EMILY!’ Connor shouted again. But she still didn’t wake up. Either she was too far out to hear him or
couldn’t
wake up. With the six-hour time difference between the Seychelles and Sydney and the drowsy side effects of her medication, her body clock was probably out of synch.

He looked to the
Orchid
at the opposite end of the bay. The tender was tethered to its stern and he couldn’t see anyone on deck. And there were, of course, no lifeguards on this deserted beach. In the few seconds Connor had taken to search for help, Emily had drifted even further out. If he didn’t take immediate action, she’d soon be lost in open water.

‘I’m going to bring her back,’ Connor told Ling, ripping off his T-shirt and running into the sea. ‘Contact Brad.’

As soon as he was deep enough, he dived beneath the waves and swam hard. Surfacing, he powered through the water, glad now for all Charley’s training.

But swimming in the sea was totally different from being in an indoor pool. Although the bay was relatively calm, the gentle swell still blocked his line of sight. Emily and her
silver lilo continually bobbed in and out of view and he had to keep stopping to ensure he was still heading in the right direction.

Emily was now over eighty metres out, almost beyond the tip of the headland. Connor dug deep with every ounce of strength he possessed. His legs kicking, his arms pumping, he swam not for his life, but for hers.

Then all of a sudden he was alongside her.

‘Emily!’ he gasped, clutching on to the lilo’s handle.

But she was still dead to the world, a blissful smile on her face.

Deciding that waking her suddenly at this point could risk her drowning, Connor turned the lilo round and kicked for the shore. After a minute or so, he looked up. The beach seemed no closer.

He put his head down and kicked furiously, driving the lilo ahead of him.

Connor looked up again. They were still beyond the headland. He realized he wasn’t getting anywhere. He was fighting
against
the current.

Despair crept into his mind. There was no way he could beat the pull of the ocean. His heart was already pounding like a drum and he could feel his muscles burning from the effort made just to reach Emily.

Where is Brad and the tender?

He would never rescue Emily at this rate. Then he remembered Charley reminiscing about one of her surfing trips where she’d been caught in a rip-tide. These currents, she’d explained, were rarely more than thirty metres wide
and surfers often used them as an expressway into the ocean to catch waves. The way to escape a rip-tide was to simply swim parallel to the shore and, once clear, diagonally back to the beach.

Redirecting the lilo, Connor swam towards the headland. Then as soon as he judged he was clear of the rip he took a diagonal course to where Ling stood waving to him.

With a glance over at the headland, Connor saw he was at last making progress. But the going was still tough. His lungs burnt for air and, to make matters worse, in his growing exhaustion he started to lose his rhythm. His limbs grew heavy as lead, and he imagined himself sinking to the seabed like a stone.

In the distance he could hear the roar of the motorboat’s engines.

Then, all of a sudden, his foot struck sand and he glanced up in surprise.

‘Are you OK?’ asked Ling, pulling the lilo and Emily on to the foreshore. Further up the beach, Chloe was still stretched out on her towel, headphones on, oblivious to the near tragedy. Brad was just arriving in the tender.

Connor dragged himself out of the shallows and collapsed on the warm sand. ‘Barely,’ he wheezed as a wave of white water rushed up the beach, engulfing the lilo and waking Emily with a start.

‘Oh … I must have dozed off,’ she said, sitting up and brushing her wet hair from her face. Seeing Connor sprawled in the sand like a beached fish, gasping for breath, she remarked, ‘Have you been for a swim?’

Connor opened his mouth to reply but was too exhausted for words and just let his head flop back down.

‘You need to relax more,’ Emily laughed. ‘This is a holiday, you know.’

Oracle regarded his loose band of pirates through the tinted passenger window of his Land Cruiser. The men lolled in the meagre shade of a ramshackle fisherman’s hut, bored and listless in the unrelenting heat. Only the young pirate Bucktooth crouched in the full glare of the sun, forced to remain on guard by the skiffs. An unnecessary duty, imposed by the other pirates as a cruel prank, since no villager or fisherman would dare approach Oracle’s gang or their boats. But the boy appeared happy enough with his revolver to carry out the duty.

Picking up the slim mobile phone from the seat beside him, Oracle pressed the speed-dial number. After several distant rings, he heard a click and his investor answered. ‘Yes?’

‘My men are ready,’ informed Oracle.

There was a crackle on the line, the signal poor at the base of the cliff, but he could just make out his investor’s response. ‘Have … supplies … arrived?’

‘Yes,’ replied Oracle. ‘And Mr WiFi has tracked down the target to its current location in Victoria Harbour. We’ll be there by –’

‘Your information is out of date … The yacht is now at Anse Takamaka … Tomorrow … sail to Bel Ombre … after that to Praslin Island.’

Oracle’s brow furrowed slightly. ‘How do
you
know the yacht’s itinerary?’

As Oracle listened to the reply, his upper lip curled into an astonished smirk. ‘That is quite something … Yes, I’ll keep you fully informed of our progress.’

Snapping shut the phone, Oracle lowered his passenger window. A rush of hot dry air invaded the vehicle’s cool interior as Spearhead’s sweating face appeared.

‘Get the men boarded,’ instructed Oracle.

‘Yes, boss. Are we still headed for the Seychelles?’

Oracle nodded. ‘At this moment, yes, but Mr WiFi will send you updates via the satellite link.’

Spearhead gave a dismissive snort and waved his hand at a buzzing fly. ‘That’s all well and good, but his hacked coordinates are always out by a few hours because of the security delay. Sometimes the ship is over the horizon by the time we get there.’

Oracle offered a smug grin. ‘Not this time. The investor is able to supply the
real-time
location of the
Orchid
.’

Spearhead’s eyes widened in his head and he grunted an incredulous laugh. ‘Then this is gonna be like shooting fish in a barrel.’

‘So let the game begin,’ Oracle commanded, winding up his window and barring the all-pervading heat.

As the Land Cruiser sped away across the baking sand, Spearhead barked orders at his men. Idle from chewing
khat all morning, the pirates rose to their feet and trudged down the beach to their boats. They threw nets over their weapons and supplies to give the pretence they were legitimate fishermen. Pushing the boats from the shoreline, the pirates clambered aboard and started their engines. The powerful outboard motors roared, churning up a flurry of white water as the small armada of pirate skiffs surged out of the bay.