Bodyguard: Ransom (Book 2) (29 page)

As dawn approached, Connor shifted position on the narrow ledge, trying to relieve the steel rivets digging into his backside and the cold seeping into his bones. The bilge was a living hell to hide in, but at least he’d found some ear defenders in the engine room, making his bolt-hole tolerable if not comfortable.

Sitting in the darkened bilge, spooning cold tuna into his mouth, Connor didn’t miss the harsh irony of his situation.
He
was now the stowaway on board a hijacked ship.

Most of the pirates were sleeping off their hangovers following the previous night’s celebrations and as a result none of them had ventured down to the lower deck for the past few hours. However, acutely aware that he couldn’t risk being discovered, Connor had stayed holed up below for the majority of the night.

Twice he’d made a trip to the upper decks to collect more provisions and pack the tender for a possible escape. The storage boxes under the seats were now crammed with food and water, but as yet he’d only managed to locate a couple of emergency fuel cans.

Also, he’d continued trying the radio at half-hourly intervals, repeating the Mayday call and waiting in hope for an answer. None ever came; although once he thought he’d heard some garbled transmission.

His other problem was figuring out the
Orchid
’s position. The GPS in the tender failed to connect with the satellite every time and Connor began to wonder if the yacht’s hull was blocking the signal. The interference from the hull was probably also limiting the radio antenna’s range, which would explain why he wasn’t picking up any transmissions.

To counter this, Connor had considered opening the bay doors to the garage. However, he knew that would immediately bring the pirates running. So, using the screwdriver on his newly acquired penknife, he’d tried to remove the radio from the tender instead. But the radio was all wired in and he feared any more tampering would break his only means of communication.

Connor looked at his watch – 04:26. In one of his foraging missions, he’d come across a small compass and established that the
Orchid
was heading in an easterly direction, no doubt to Somalia. He was running out of time. If he didn’t make contact soon, the
Orchid
would sail out of international waters and beyond all hope of help.

‘We’ve had a breakthrough,’ Colonel Black announced, as Charley, Amir and the rest of Alpha team entered the briefing room. ‘The
Orchid
’s EPIRB has been triggered again.’

Despite it being 3.30 a.m. in Wales, the news quickly dispelled the bleary eyes and stifled yawns.

‘This
can’t
be another false alert,’ said Charley, speeding over to her monitor and scanning the report. ‘The
Orchid
must be at full throttle! She’s gone some distance since Connor’s Mayday.’

‘Don’t worry,’ said the colonel. ‘The
Victoire
is already on course to intercept.’

The phone in the briefing room rang and Colonel Black picked it up. He listened intently for a moment. ‘Your help is greatly appreciated, Commander.’

Placing a hand over the receiver, he addressed Alpha team. ‘The Commander of 815 Squadron has arranged a live link to the operation. He’s patching us through now.’

Colonel Black switched to speakerphone and Alpha team huddled round the desk to listen.

‘
Victoire to Archangel
.
You are cleared for take-off …
’
The Lynx helicopter rose from the deck of the
Victoire
and banked away into the early dawn sky. The ocean was a cold steel-grey, the sun yet to grace it with its warmth. As the helicopter scudded low over the waves, the pilot and his observer scanned the horizon. Apart from a fishing trawler to the west, a large net dragging in its wake, the ocean was empty of shipping traffic. The pilot continued to head on the course dictated by the
Orchid
’s beacon.

In the cabin behind, two Royal Marine snipers perched either side, checking the sights on their long-range rifles in preparation for action. With hijacking a distinct probability, resistance was to be expected, if not wanted.

A blip sounded on the helicopter’s radar.

‘
Archangel to Victoire
,’ said the pilot. ‘
Vessel located sixteen nautical miles due south
.’

Slightly adjusting course, the Lynx helicopter darted over the ocean.

‘There!’ said the observer, pointing straight ahead.

In the glow of first light, a yacht appeared on the horizon.

Alpha team listened in tense silence to the live relay. Static cut in and out but the words were clear enough.

‘
Archangel to Victoire
.
Target in sight.
’

Amir smiled reassuringly at Charley. She responded with a flicker of a smile, then became tight-lipped again, her brow taut with concern.

‘
Target sailing on a north-easterly bearing. Speed, fifteen knots.
’

‘At least they’re not sinking,’ Marc commented.

‘Yeah,’ said Ling, ‘but
who’s
sailing her?’

It was a long time before the pilot spoke again and tension in the briefing room rose another notch.

‘
Closing in on target
 … 
snipers at the ready …
’

‘Do you think there’ll be a firefight?’ asked Richie, a little too eagerly.

‘Shh!’ said Charley, glaring at him.

‘
No sign of anyone on deck … Hang on …
’
Over the speaker the thud of the Lynx’s rotor blades sounded like distant heavy gunfire. ‘
I see someone … port side … a body … male …
’

‘Connor?’ questioned Amir, saying out loud what was on everyone’s minds.

Charley closed her eyes. ‘I pray it isn’t,’ she whispered.

‘But where’s the crew?’ asked Jason.

‘If pirates have hijacked the
Orchid
, they’ll hold all hostages below deck,’ Colonel Black explained. ‘Now be quiet.’

‘
Archangel to Victoire
,’ the pilot’s voice said. ‘
Re-confirm target’s call sign
.’

‘
Victoire to Archangel.
Orchid
, I repeat,
Orchid,’ replied the frigate’s captain.

‘
Then we have a problem. EPIRB location confirmed, but name on hull is
Sunriser
, I repeat,
Sunriser.’

Mr WiFi’s grin widened as he scanned the intercepted messages from the
Victoire
to the Seychelles coastguard on his laptop screen. Oracle’s idea to plant the
Orchid
’s EPIRB beacon on the other yacht and remote-trigger it had worked like a dream. All the efforts of the search-and-rescue team were focused on entirely the wrong patch of ocean.

He glanced across at Oracle, who was reclining upon his bolster, picking at a bowl of fresh dates. The morning sun streamed through a barred window, suffusing the spacious living room in a golden light.

‘They took the bait,’ he said.

Oracle replied with a smug smile as he popped a date into his mouth. ‘Of course they did. Dumb Westerners.’

‘With any luck, the
Orchid
should have a clear run.’

‘When can we expect our prize?’

Mr WiFi switched to the live tracking program on his laptop. ‘Around dawn tomorrow.’

Reaching for the slim mobile phone on the divan, Oracle pressed the Speed-dial button.

‘Then I had better inform our investor.’

Connor peered through the glazed doors at the far end of the salon. Dusk had settled and once again he took the advantage of darkness. Several times he’d attempted to carry out surveillance during the day, but the pirates had been up on deck maintaining a constant watch for any approaching boats. This had made it impossible for him to move about the yacht without being spotted. So he’d stayed below, biding his time for the right opportunity to attempt a rescue.

The once pristine and stylish salon was now a mess in the aftermath of the pirates’ party. Empty bottles and broken glass littered the floor. Red wine stained the white leather sofas, armchairs and carpet. The hostages appeared dazed, zoned out through a combination of gnawing fear and sheer exhaustion. The crew, minus the captain and the chief officer, remained under armed guard, the pirates lazily pointing their AK47s in their direction while chatting with one another.

Chloe and Emily were still sitting apart from the rest of the group. They huddled together in an armchair, Chloe
dozing fitfully while Emily stared into space. Connor himself had barely slept for the past thirty-six hours, the narrow bilge ledge not exactly being comfortable. Yet, despite his frayed nerves, he’d managed to get some rest, in the knowledge that sleep deprivation would cloud his judgement and that he had to stay sharp if he was to succeed in his mission.

As he shook off his weariness, Connor wondered how he could attract the girls’ attention without being noticed by the pirates. He had to communicate his plan to the twins. Connor knew his best chance of success lay in completely separating them from the rest of the group, then he’d only have to deal with one armed guard.

But neither of the girls was looking his way. Tapping on the glass would draw everyone’s attention to him, so he’d have to come up with a better plan …

Without warning, a hand seized Connor by the shoulder and wrenched him to his feet. A gangly pirate with a hooked nose and wispy beard was glaring at him with furious astonishment.

‘
I soo rac!
’ he ordered, dragging him towards the doors.

Connor made a split-second decision. He could either surrender, or …

Flicking his hand out like a snake, he hit the pirate in the throat with a knife-hand strike. Choking, unable to breathe or cry out, his eyes bulging, the pirate staggered backwards under the blow. But he proved stronger than he looked and somehow managed to keep a grip on Connor. He swung a bony fist into Connor’s gut. Connor tried to absorb the
blow, but it struck hard. All the air was forced from his lungs and he doubled up in agony, slumping to his knees. The pirate slugged him in the jaw and stars exploded across Connor’s vision.

However, Connor had taken punches just as hard many times before. During his years of kickboxing training, his body had become accustomed to the sudden shock of a punch or kick. His adrenalin masking the pain, he quickly got back on his feet.

Twisting himself in the man’s grip, he clasped the pirate’s fingers and rotated them against their joints in a jujitsu locking technique. The pirate grimaced and let go. Connor side-kicked him in the ribs with all his might. A bone
cracked
. Wheezing, the pirate collided against the access gate in the stern’s handrail, the gate gave way and he tumbled over the side.

Connor rushed to the rail, but the pirate had already disappeared beneath the dark swell of the ocean, the
Orchid
powering on into the night.

Panting and in pain, Connor dropped to his knees and tried to recover his breath. But almost immediately he heard voices heading his way. Dragging himself over to the stairs, he staggered down to the lower deck and dashed for the refuge of the bilge.