Bodyguard: Ransom (Book 2) (27 page)

‘Emergency over,’ announced Amir, leaning back in his chair. ‘The
Orchid
’s distress signal has been cancelled.’

‘What … 
again
?’ Charley questioned, zooming over to his console.

Amir shrugged. ‘The EPIRB unit’s stopped transmitting.’

‘Could it have just lost contact with the satellite?’ Marc asked.

‘No, I’ve checked that,’ said Amir. ‘There’ve been two satellite sweeps and no signal.’

‘Then we need an official confirmation,’ said Colonel Black, picking up the phone and dialling the Seychelles coastguard.

‘Good morning, this is Colonel Black. You spoke with my colleague earlier regarding the motor yacht
Orchid
. What’s the status on the vessel’s most recent distress call?’ The colonel listened intently. ‘Thank you,’ he said, a pensive expression on his face, and put down the phone.

‘The coastguard received a satellite call from the
Orchid
confirming cancellation. The other yacht is out of danger too. So they’ve called off the search-and-rescue team.’

‘But this is the
Orchid
’s
second
distress call,’ said Charley. ‘This doesn’t feel right to me.’

Bugsy coughed into his fist for attention. ‘It’s not uncommon for an EPIRB to trigger a false alert,’ he explained, chewing rapidly on a stick of gum. ‘The sensor can get wet or the unit knocked from its bracket. Maybe that’s what happened when they were helping the other boat.’

Charley looked to the colonel. ‘Was there any mention of the casualty?’

‘What casualty?’ asked Ling, walking through the door with Jody and dumping her bags, the flight labels still attached.

‘The
Orchid
’s been attacked by pirates,’ said Jason, going over to greet her. ‘One of the crew was shot during their escape.’

‘WHAT?’ exclaimed Ling, her eyes widening in disbelief. ‘I leave Connor for one day and this is what happens. I miss out on all the action.’

‘This is
not
the sort of action we want,’ stated Colonel Black. He turned back to Charley. ‘No, there wasn’t any reference to the casualty. But, unless there’s been a serious change in his condition, there’d be no real need. However, I agree, two distress calls in a morning is troubling. Bugsy, call the
Orchid
’s satellite phone and speak direct to Captain Locke. Marc, get in touch with Luciana – see if she’s had any communication since her arrival in the Maldives. Amir, contact Connor. Let’s obtain positive confirmation ourselves before standing down.’

The colonel addressed Ling. ‘Before you left the
Orchid
, was there any indication of problems with the yacht’s comms systems?’

Ling shook her head. ‘Not as far as I know.’

Alpha team waited in tense silence as Bugsy dialled the satellite phone, Marc called Luciana’s mobile and Amir launched his SOS app.

After his third attempt at connection, Bugsy announced, ‘The line’s engaged, Colonel.’

Colonel Black frowned. ‘That’s potentially good news. It means they’re communicating at least.’

‘Not with Luciana,’ said Marc. ‘She’s heard nothing.’

‘Tell her to remain on standby. Any response from Connor?’

Amir shook his head. ‘I’ve pinged him twice. Even sent a remote activation, but the SOS app isn’t responding.’

‘Perhaps he forgot to charge his phone,’ suggested Richie.

‘You’re not helping,’ said Charley, giving him a hard stare. ‘We should inform the Seychelles coastguard.’

Colonel Black shook his head. ‘Not yet. They won’t relaunch a search-and-rescue just based on our concerns. Keep trying to contact the
Orchid
every fifteen minutes. If we don’t get a response within the next hour, then we raise the alert.’

Connor wondered how on earth Cali had spent a week hidden in the bilge. His eyes were already starting to sting, the skin on his legs itched and a headache was building. He’d pulled himself up on to the ledge. It was just wide enough for him to perch and keep his feet out of the water, but the steel beam was cold and hard, the rivets protruding into his backside.

Having retrieved his Go-bag, grateful that Amir had designed it to be waterproof as well as buoyant, he took stock of his limited resources. Aside from Cali’s half-empty bottle of water, he had four energy bars and a packet of glucose tablets. Cali’s own little larder was bare, explaining the boy’s need to raid the
Orchid
’s galley. If the hijacking went on for any length of time, Connor realized he would be forced to do the same.

He rummaged through the Go-bag, careful not to drop anything, and found the med-kit. Taking out an antiseptic wipe, he cleaned the wound on his arm then covered it with a self-adhesive dressing. He took a couple of tablets to numb the pain. Then, with great difficulty on the narrow
ledge, he changed his damaged polo-shirt for a new T-shirt and a long-sleeved jumper. The double layer wasn’t ideal considering the bilge’s airless and clammy atmosphere, but the discomfort was worth it for the increased bulletproof protection.

As he sorted through the rest of the Go-bag’s contents, Connor thought about triggering the SART in the pack’s side. Then he recalled the transponder had only a five-mile range and an eight-hour lifespan. If he was going to use it, he had to be sure it would be effective. The SART was now his only means of raising an alert. With his smartphone destroyed, he couldn’t send an SOS message to Buddyguard HQ. And, until he could reach a radio, he was cut off from any back-up support.

The most useful item in his possession, beside the night-vision glasses, was the Dazzler torch. At least he would have light. And a defensive weapon. He switched it on, the compartment flooding with its bright beam.

His situation didn’t look any more promising in the torchlight. Somehow the bilge seemed smaller and more confining. The realization he was trapped in a steel box hit home. And every minute he stayed hidden in Cali’s old refuge he ran the risk of being discovered. Even if the pirates didn’t yet know about this hideaway, Cali would surely tell them. Unless, by some miraculous chance, the pirates had forgotten about him in the confusion of the attack. But that wasn’t a gamble Connor was willing to take.

As his beam swept the bilge, he spotted a service hatch
just above the waterline. Dropping from his perch, Connor bent down to inspect. The lock was stiff, but by throwing all his weight behind it Connor managed to open it. On the other side was another bilge compartment, bigger than his and judging by how far it went back, this one appeared to be located beneath the yacht’s twin engines. Connor swung his torchbeam round, revealing a hatch in the ceiling. Perhaps there was a way to evade the pirates after all.

‘You said rescue was on its way,’ cried Amanda. ‘Then
where
is it?’

Her perfect blue eyes stared accusingly at Captain Locke, while the rest of the crew looked to him for leadership and reassurance. Emily and Chloe sat numb and silent at the dining table, their two plates of rice and boiled fish barely touched and now stone cold.

‘I don’t know. I honestly don’t know,’ admitted the captain, peering through the small porthole and seeing only empty ocean. ‘But it can’t be far off,’ he added with false hope.

From the stairwell, the spitting hiss of the cutting torch grew louder with each passing minute.

‘Shouldn’t we arm ourselves?’ said Scott.

‘With what?’ asked Chief Officer Fielding.

‘Kitchen knives, flares, anything.’

‘No,’ overruled Captain Locke. ‘If the pirates breach the bulkhead, fighting will be futile. It’ll only result in more bloodshed.’

‘Are you suggesting we simply surrender?’ said Amanda.

The captain offered a resigned shrug. ‘We’re left with little other choice.’

The pirates’ angry voices now invaded their supposedly impregnable citadel. There was a huge
clang
as the door fell to the floor, followed by an unnerving silence. Everyone’s gaze turned towards the forbidding stairwell.

Chloe clutched on to her sister as the soft pad of bare feet was heard descending the stairs. The dark muzzle of an AK47 appeared first, followed by the jug-eared pirate. His eyes, bulging and bloodshot, flicked round the room, while his finger twitched nervously on the assault rifle’s trigger.

‘
Gacmaha madaxa saara
,’ he barked, jerking the gun’s barrel towards the ceiling.

Guessing the pirate’s meaning, Captain Locke raised his hands obediently and the rest of the crew followed suit. Three more armed pirates descended the stairwell, quickly surrounding the hostages. One searched the crew’s quarters and dragged out a groaning and pale Jordan, dumping him on the floor at their feet.

‘
Dhaqaaq!
’ said Juggs.

Captain Locke furrowed his brow. ‘I don’t understand.’

‘Move,’ the pirate repeated in English, gesturing with his AK47 to the stairwell.

Captain Locke looked to his crew and the girls, trying to maintain an air of calm authority. ‘Do as he says. The pirates won’t harm us. They need us alive for the ransom nego–’

The butt of the AK47 collided with the captain’s jaw,
splitting his lip. Blood sprayed across the dining table. Emily flinched away and Chloe let out a shocked yelp.

‘No speak!’ said Juggs, shoving the stunned captain towards the stairwell.

‘Here, for your face,’ said Spearhead, offering the captain a cloth napkin from the salon’s dining table. ‘Sorry, my men can be overzealous at times.’

Warily accepting the napkin, the captain dabbed painfully at his swollen and bleeding lip. Then he straightened himself to his full height, which by no means could match the towering pirate. ‘I’m Captain Thomas Locke, in charge of the
Orchid
and responsible for this crew and guests. And you are?’

‘Spearhead,’ he replied, thumping his chest with a clenched fist. ‘And
I’m
now in charge.’

He took the captain’s hat and placed it on his own head.

Powerless to do anything about the theft of his hat, Captain Locke said, ‘You do realize a search-and-rescue team is on its way. But if you leave now you can escape punishment –’

Spearhead let out a booming laugh. ‘I think you’re mistaken, my friend.
No one
is looking for you.’

The pirate surveyed his hostages, who huddled on the cluster of white leather sofas under the watchful guard of
his gang. The news of their hopeless situation hit them hard. Sophie began to weep. Kieran buried his face in his hands. Chloe started sobbing in her sister’s arms, while Emily turned pale and started to tremble.

Spearhead frowned. ‘Where’s the boy?’

‘Do you mean the stowaway?’ Captain Locke replied, jutting his chin in Cali’s direction. Cali was in the corner with an older buck-toothed lad, armed with a revolver.

‘Not him, I mean the white boy,’ said Spearhead.

‘Connor’s
dead
,’ cried Chloe, daring to look the pirate in the face, her tearful eyes flashing with anger.

Unmoved by her fury, Spearhead raised an enquiring eyebrow at Cali. ‘Is this true?’

Glancing over, Cali gave a single nod and pointed at Juggs. ‘He shot him.’

Spearhead glared at the accused pirate. Juggs mumbled something and Spearhead snorted. ‘No matter. The boy was of little value to us. Whereas you two –’ he turned to Emily and Chloe, baring his bone-white teeth in a leering grin – ‘are valuable property. Along with yourself, Ms Ryder.’

Spearhead’s gaze raked over the model as Amanda’s expression flipped from fear to shock. ‘How do you know my name?’ she demanded.

Laughing, Spearhead advanced menacingly towards her and the girls. ‘There’s a great deal I know about you, about Chloe and, of course, about
you
, Emily.’

Geoff stepped into the pirate’s path. ‘Leave them alone.’

Spearhead eyed the engineer with disdain. ‘Oh, I’ve no
intention of harming them. But I can’t say the same for you.’

Geoff stood his ground a brave moment longer, then reluctantly moved aside.

Amanda braced herself for the worst. The girls shrank back from the pirate as he crouched beside them.

‘Don’t worry, Emily,’ soothed Spearhead, brushing a calloused finger along her soft cheek. ‘
If
your father pays up, you’ll be back home in no time.’

Standing and addressing the captain, he ordered, ‘Set a course for Hobyo.’

Captain Locke hesitated before replying, ‘But we don’t have enough fuel to reach Somalia.’

Spearhead’s hand lashed out like a viper, his knuckles catching the captain hard across the jaw.

‘Don’t
ever
lie to me again,’ snarled Spearhead as Captain Locke reeled from the blow, his split lip gushing fresh blood. ‘I know for a fact this yacht has a range of four thousand nautical miles. Start the engines, NOW!’