Bodyguard: Ransom (Book 2) (21 page)

‘The investor has sent through another update,’ said Mr WiFi, presenting Oracle with his laptop.

Lifting the silver-mirrored aviator sunglasses from his nose, the pirate leader peered at the digital photo displayed on the laptop screen. A wash of turquoise-blue waters kissed the white sands of a palm-fringed bay, behind which rose a mist-shrouded peak.

‘So what island is that?’

‘Mahé,’ replied Mr WiFi.

Oracle raised a dubious eyebrow. ‘There are countless islands that look the same. How can you be so certain?’

Mr WiFi right-clicked on the image, opening up its EXIF metadata file. ‘Because the photo has the exact geo-location embedded within it. Along with a time stamp indicating the precise moment it was taken – 14:32 today.’

Oracle reclined against his gold-tasselled bolster in the shaded living room and laughed. ‘Oh, the benefits of modern technology and the naivety of young people. They’re almost inviting us to join them!’

Reaching across to a cup on an inlaid ivory tray, he took
a sip of spiced black tea. He savoured the taste a moment before asking, ‘What other information has the investor provided?’

Sitting cross-legged on the crimson rug before his boss, Mr WiFi tugged casually at his goatee. ‘The
Orchid
is on a north-east bearing, headed for the Maldives. Estimated voyage time four days.’

‘And where are my men now?’

Mr WiFi brought up an electronic chart of the Indian Ocean on his laptop. Zooming in, he pointed to a cluster of tiny green dots visible amid a vast swathe of blue.

‘They’re seventy-five nautical miles north-west of the target.’

‘Then tell Spearhead to stop playing with small fry,’ said Oracle, putting down his tea. ‘It’s time to reel in the big fish.’

Leaning against the
Orchid
’s stern rail, Connor watched Praslin Island slowly shrink towards the darkening horizon. Mahé had long since disappeared from view and soon they’d be leaving the territorial waters of the Seychelles for the open ocean. With his mobile signal down to a single bar, Connor checked in with Alpha team one last time. Charley answered in two rings.

‘So how are you coping solo?’ she asked.

‘Fine,’ replied Connor, not wanting to admit that he’d spent most of the afternoon evading Chloe’s advances. With nothing else to do on board except read, relax and sunbathe, Chloe seemed to want to let off steam by flirting with him – a fact that hadn’t gone unnoticed by her sister.

Not that Connor didn’t appreciate such attention. Chloe was by no means unattractive. But he knew any such lapse of judgement would finish his role as a buddyguard for good and bring an end to the paid-for nursing care his mum and gran so critically needed.

‘Well, Luciana’s on schedule to rendezvous with you in the Maldives,’ advised Charley. ‘Ling’s on her way back
home, but before boarding she mentioned that you thought you’d spotted the two muggers on Praslin Island.’

‘I thought so, but I was wrong,’ admitted Connor.

‘Well, there’s a strong chance you may have been right.’

Connor went rigid at the news. ‘How come?’

‘The two suspects were pinged getting on a flight to Dubai the same day the Sterlings departed for their holiday. They were using false passports so their trail went dead after that, but Dubai is a natural stopover en route to the Seychelles.’

Connor tightened his grip on the phone. So his eyes
hadn’t
deceived him that day.

‘They seem a little persistent for muggers, and too well-resourced,’ Charley continued. ‘As heavies-for-hire, we can only assume someone has paid them to do a job on the Sterlings.’

‘Who?’

‘It could be any one of Mr Sterling’s enemies. Amir’s going through his threat report to see if there are any obvious links.’

‘Well, the heavies have missed their opportunity here,’ said Connor, watching Mahé retreat into the distance.

‘Unless they were responsible for the jet-ski incident.’

Connor thought this over. ‘I don’t see how they could have got on board the yacht without being noticed. Brad’s run an almost constant watch since the Sterlings’ arrival.’

‘Still, it’s a possibility. If they’re determined enough to follow you to the Seychelles, then they won’t be far behind in the Maldives either. So stay alert.’

‘Will do,’ said Connor. ‘I’ll contact you as soon as we reach harbour again.’

‘OK,’ she replied. ‘And, Connor, be careful applying that suntan lotion.’

‘What?’

But Charley had already ended the call.

Connor stared at his phone, unable to believe Ling had reported that incident. Now Charley had got completely the wrong idea and, judging by the tone of her voice, wasn’t too happy about it. Furious with Ling, he shoved his mobile in his top pocket and headed across the main deck to the salon. As he slid open the glass doors, he heard someone else on the phone.

‘Anything could happen at sea. The girls are on their own. I understand your concern, Joey, but I can handle them.’ Amanda turned round, brushing a lock of golden hair from her eyes, and she spotted Connor. ‘Listen, I’d better go. Ciao.’

Flipping shut her pink diamond-studded phone, she perched herself on the edge of a leather couch, the split in her white chiffon dress revealing a shapely tanned thigh. With the setting sun streaming through the window behind her, Amanda’s pose was straight out of a high-class fashion shoot.

‘Can I help you, Connor?’ she asked, dazzling him with her smile. ‘I was just on the phone to my agent.’

For a moment, Connor was struck dumb by her beauty. ‘No … I was simply going to check that Chloe and Emily were OK.’

‘Ah, that’s sweet,’ she said, sauntering over and ruffling
his hair. ‘But I don’t think we’ve anything to worry about, do you?’

Connor’s eyes followed her departing figure as she strolled out of the door and disappeared on deck.

‘Careful, Connor. She’s a real siren.’

Connor spun round to discover Brad standing at the other end of the salon, a wicked grin on his face.

‘A siren?’ Connor queried.

‘Yeah, the femme fatales of Greek mythology. Beautiful yet dangerous creatures who’d lure unwary sailors on to the rocks with their enchanting voices and looks.’ He beckoned Connor over. ‘Talking of danger. Since Mr Sterling’s departure with Dan, we’re a man down on the watch. And with Ling gone too I definitely need you to keep an extra sharp lookout while we’re at sea.’

Connor nodded. ‘No problem. I can take one of the shifts if you like.’

Brad patted him on the shoulder. ‘Good of you to volunteer. Since you’re so keen, you can do dawn duty, four till eight tomorrow morning.’

Connor made a face.

‘I know it’s early, but hopefully that slot won’t draw attention to your true role. So, best get your head down while you can, tiger.’

Wishing he hadn’t been quite so eager, Connor headed down to his cabin on the lower deck. As he passed a door to the tender garage, he thought he heard a noise. A
clunk
. Out of curiosity, he opened the bulkhead door and peered inside. The automatic lights were already on.

‘Hello? Geoff?’ he called, thinking that it might be the ship’s engineer.

But there was no response. On a quick inspection, he found the garage to be empty, save for the tender, the remaining jet ski and an array of diving gear. Yet Connor’s sixth sense was tingling – a sensation he wasn’t alone. Then he spotted the inflatable doughnut on the floor. It had come loose from its fixings. Connor put it back on its hook and returned to the bulkhead. Before shutting the door behind him, he took one last look round, but any feelings of being watched had vanished as quickly as they’d appeared.

Spearhead stood on the prow of the skiff, looking out at the horizon. The ocean was calm, the sun high and the seam between sea and sky a faintly darker smudge in the far-off distance. There was no land in sight to gain any bearings – just a boundless expanse of glassy blue ocean stretching off in all directions.

Spearhead had received the
Orchid
’s coordinates over the sat-phone from Mr WiFi, but he still trusted his own eyes more than any GPS or radar.

‘See anything yet?’ Big Mouth called from his skiff.

Spearhead didn’t bother replying. He’d let them know when he spotted their quarry.

‘We’ve been floating here for
hours
,’ moaned Juggs, his lanky body laid out across a wooden seat, oversized feet dangling in the water. ‘If we were in the Gulf of Aden, a hundred cargo ships would have passed us by now. Easy pickings.’

‘I agree,’ said Big Mouth, standing up and urinating over the side. ‘Why chase a dolphin when we can land a whale?’

‘Oracle foresaw this bounty,’ replied a pirate, snoozing beneath a red headscarf. ‘When has he ever been wrong?’

Having relieved himself, Big Mouth pulled up his shorts. ‘I just don’t understand why we’re not using the GPS.’

‘Because we don’t want to land right on top of our target,’ Spearhead explained with irritation. ‘They’d spot us in no time.’

A glint of light caught his eye. A vessel, reflecting the sun like a mirror, crested the horizon five nautical miles due east – exactly where he’d predicted. And while Spearhead could see the
Orchid
, nobody on her deck would be able to detect his tiny skiffs.

‘That’s our prize,’ said Spearhead, pointing to the yacht in the distance. ‘We attack at dawn tomorrow.’

‘Why not now?’ demanded Big Mouth. ‘Or at dusk?’

‘Because we need to hunt like the sharks – attack when least expected. When the prey is least ready to fight back.’

Connor yawned and looked at his watch – 05:30.

Zipping up his jacket to fend off the chill sea breeze, he paced the top deck. Through the night-vision lenses of his sunglasses, the stars appeared over-bright in the sky, like theatre spotlights, and the sea shimmered as if awash with mercury.

Raising the binoculars to his eyes, he performed another sweep of the horizon. So far the only other vessels he’d sighted were a fishing trawler and the long, low profile of an oil tanker. Both had glided by in distant silence, no more than ghosts in the night.

Connor stifled another yawn. His lookout duty was progressing with painful slowness. He couldn’t believe that he still had another two and a half hours to go, but at least the sun would soon be up. The faintest of glows was now visible to the east, pushing back the curtain of night.

As he completed his sweep, his eye caught a glint of something directly to the
Orchid
’s stern. Adjusting the focus on his binoculars, he zoomed in on the point near the horizon, but the roll of the yacht made it hard to keep the image steady.

Was that a boat? A wave? Or a whale breaching?

He’d spotted a small pod of humpback whales within the first ten minutes of his watch. The spray from their blowholes had looked like fountains of silver through his night-vision lenses. It was his first encounter with these magnificent creatures and he’d been spellbound by their appearance. Then the whales had dived deep and he’d lost them among the waves.

It seemed this was the case again. He scanned the ocean once more but saw nothing. Then his attention was grabbed by a flashing light on the main deck below. He leant over the rail, but couldn’t detect the source.

Descending two flights of steps, he made his way to the starboard side and discovered Emily standing beside the rail.

‘Morning,’ he said.

She snapped her head round in surprise, but quickly recovered and greeted him with a wry smile. ‘Only just,’ she replied.

‘Did you see a flashing light?’

Emily shook her head. ‘Perhaps it was the salon as I walked through?’

Connor frowned. ‘Possibly, but the beam seemed more focused than that.’ He looked up and down the deck, but all was dark.

Emily stared at him, then waved a hand in front of his face. ‘Can you even see? Why are you wearing sunglasses at night?’

‘Oh, these.’ Connor flipped them back off his head. He
wasn’t sure if Amir wanted the secrets of his gear revealed, so replied, ‘They’re part of the standard-issue Buddyguard uniform. Sometimes I forget I’m wearing them.’

‘Well, you’re missing out on the sunrise,’ said Emily, turning to the rail and admiring the expanding halo of red fire on the horizon.

Connor joined her. ‘Is that why you’re up so early?’

‘Not really. I was finding it hard to sleep.’ She glanced timidly at him. ‘Nightmares.’

Connor nodded, but didn’t press any further. He could only imagine what horrors she dreamt of following her kidnap ordeal.

The sun continued its ascent, heralding another glorious day at sea.

‘I’m feeling a little peckish,’ Emily announced. ‘Chef usually leaves some snacks in the galley. Can I get you anything?’

Having risen so early, Connor suddenly realized that he was ravenous. ‘That would be great. I’d kill for an orange juice and a piece of toast.’

‘No need to go that far!’ Emily laughed. ‘I’ll see what I can find.’

She headed inside, leaving Connor alone with the sunrise. Its first golden rays graced the ocean, streaking the tops of the waves a deep molten orange. Lulled by the view, Connor drifted into Code White, but it was only a matter of seconds before he was snapped back to full alert by a muffled shriek from the direction of the galley.