Sharp Shot (18 page)

Suddenly there was movement at the side of the dais. Halford was
pushing forward through the crowd. Chuck jumped up at the side of the
platform.

Darrow's finger tightened on the trigger.

“You know,” said Chance out loud, “this peppermint
is
revolting
.”

To Jade's amazement, he took the mint out of his mouth and flicked it
away.

On the dais, Chuck hurled himself at the President,
but Prince Ali
stepped forward, blocking his movement.

The President didn't seem to see. He was standing absolutely still as
Darrow squeezed the trigger.

The bullet left Darrow's rifle at over three times the speed of sound
and slammed into flesh and bone less than a second later, killing
instantly.

Everything happened so fast that it took Jade a moment to work out
what was going on.

Just as he saw Darrow exhale ready to take the shot, John Chance
flicked his peppermint away. The mint rolled along the parapet close to
the sniper rifle. It dropped over the side, bounced on to Chance's angled
wallet and rolled across Jade's clutch bag.

Then it hit the coins balanced on top of Rich's camera. The tiny
extra pressure was enough to set off the shutter—and trigger the
automatic flash.

The sudden bright glare caught Darrow by surprise as he took the
shot. It didn't disturb his aim by much. But it was enough.

Crown Prince Ali had stepped in between Chuck
White and the
President. White was knocked aside, and the Crown Prince staggered
sideways—right into the path of Darrow's misaimed bullet.

The Prince was hurled backwards, dead before he hit the floor.

Darrow had been ready to take out King Hassan after the President,
but knowing he had missed, he hesitated.

With the two soldiers distracted by the camera flash and the events
happening on the podium below, Chance moved swiftly. He kicked the legs
out from under one of the men, and punched the other one hard enough to
floor him.

Darrow turned at the commotion.

“You're finished,” said Chance. “Give up
now.”

“I can still kill Hassan,” said Darrow. “The
Prince's faction will take control.”

He turned back to the rifle, lifting it off the tripod and quickly
taking aim. Down below there was pandemonium. Kate Hunter had appeared out
of nowhere and was hustling the President off the dais, but Jade could see
that Darrow still had a clear shot at the King.

But then something streaked past both Jade and
Chance and cannoned
into Darrow. Rich was a rolling ball of arms and legs that sent Darrow
flying. The rifle was knocked from his grasp and toppled over the parapet.

“Glad you could join us,” said Chance.

But the good humour was short lived.

Darrow still had Chance's handgun. Jade launched
herself at him, but he shoved her aside.

Rich and Chance both tensed, ready to leap at Darrow, but he had
hold of Jade's arm and hauled her up—the gun pressed to her temple.

“You can't get away,” Chance told Darrow.

“Watch me.”

“You harm her…” Chance warned.

“I'm not going to harm her. She's my ticket out of
here. Once I'm safely away then I'll let her go. Maybe,” he
added, as if it was an afterthought.

Jade was struggling. She tried to turn her head enough to bite
Darrow's hand as he held her, but he was too strong, and he was ready for
her. He wrenched her head hard against the gun.

“Don't even think about it,” warned Darrow. “Now
you and I are going to walk out of here. Very slowly and very calmly. He
started to edge forwards, pushing
Jade with him. “Neat trick with
the camera, by the way. Though it's been done before.”

“That was for Ferdy,” said Chance quietly. He was
holding the handgun from one of the soldiers he'd floored and aimed it at
Darrow. “Now, you hold it right there.”

Darrow grinned suddenly. “I don't think you'd be that stupid.
Not without a clear shot, and I won't give you that. Take one shot and you
know what I'll do.” He jabbed the gun harder into Jade's temple.

“Just let them go, Dad,” said Rich. His voice was
trembling. “You can't play games with Jade's life.”

“He's right,” said Darrow. “You know, Ferdy
begged. Begged for his life. Are you going to beg, John? For the life of
your daughter?”

“It's all right, Jade,” said Chance. “We'll get
you out of this safely. Just stay calm, OK?” Slowly, he lowered the
gun.

Jade nodded, as best she could. The gun was against her temple, and
Darrow was holding her upper arm tightly.

Jade could hear the sound of running feet on the stairs, but she knew
that she had to act now. King Hassan's troops might open fire on the man
who tried
to kill their King and never mind who else got in the way.

“It's OK, Dad,” she said. “I'm cool. Remember what
I told you in the desert? Remember what I always say, and believe me—I
mean it. Just—
chillax
.”

“I remember,” said Chance. In one fluid movement, he
raised the gun and fired straight at the middle of Jade's forehead.

Rich watched Jade's fingers counting down as she spoke. Even so, he
could not believe his father had really just shot at her.

At the same moment he fired, Jade lifted her feet off the ground,
putting her entire weight on Darrow's arms. The sudden strain caught
Darrow by surprise, and Jade dropped—not far, but far enough.

The bullet from Chance's handgun hammered into Darrow at exactly the
point where Jade's forehead had just been—right in the middle of his
chest. The power of the blow was enough to send him reeling backwards. His
back caught on the lowest part of the parapet, and he flipped over it.

There was no cry of surprise or fear as Darrow fell. He was dead
already.

Chuck White, sweating and pale, pounded up the last stairs and on to
the roof in time to see Darrow fall.

“Guess you don't need the Cavalry after all,” he said.
“It seems like no matter what they say, we should always leave these
things to Chance.”

Like the nuclear explosion, it was all a trick. Jade watched the news
on the TV in their hotel suite in amazement.

“How can they do this?”

All the guests had been cleared immediately from the palace after the
shootings. Like everyone else, Chance, Halford, Rich and Jade had been
bundled out and into their limousine. King Hassan's own Royal Guards were
rounding up supporters of Crown Prince Ali, while the Secret Service made
preparations for the President's immediate departure.

The TV news was cutting between footage of the crowds at the palace
taken before the President and King Hassan arrived, and the speeches.
Speeches that Jade knew had been made to an empty courtyard after everyone
had left.

She laughed out loud as she heard first the President, then King
Hassan pay tribute to the late
Crown Prince Ali who had—apparently—
died saving his beloved nephew the King from an assassin's bullet.

“He threw himself in front of the shot!” Jade gasped.
“Who are they kidding?”

“Maybe no one,” agreed Chance, “but it's a way of
getting Ali's supporters on his side. Their figurehead died a hero, and in
doing so he endorsed the current leadership and by default endorsed its
decision to hold an election. Pretty shrewd stuff.”

“But it's all lies. It's dishonest.”

Rich grinned. “It's politics. Anyway, it's no more dishonest
than saying ‘shoot me right here',” he tapped his forehead,
“and then ducking away.”

“Duck away from this,” said Jade, and threw a cushion at
him.

Rich caught it easily and threw it back.

“Doesn't it upset you, though?” asked Jade.

“Only thing that upsets me is I didn't get to meet the
President after all,” said Rich.

They were interrupted by a knock at the door. It was Ardman. He was
carrying a large bunch of flowers and a bottle of champagne.

“These are for you,” he said, handing the flowers to
Jade. He gave the champagne to Chance. “And
this is for you.
Compliments of Mr White and Miss
Hunter.”

“Hey, I was there too, you know,” Rich complained.

“Oh yes, sorry. Nearly forgot.” Ardman took something
from his pocket and handed it to Rich.

He looked at it dubiously. “So, Dad gets champagne and Jade
gets a bouquet. And I get a disposable camera.”

“I gather yours got knocked off a wall when Darrow
fell.”

“True,” admitted Rich.

“Oh, and you get these too,” said Ardman. He handed each
of them a plain white envelope.

“What is this?” asked Chance.

Jade had already opened hers. “Hey—awesome!”

Rich was impressed too. “An invitation to a special reception
at the White House?!”

“There will be other people there too, of course,” said
Ardman. “But the President is very keen for you three to be there.
Mr White tells me the President was very sorry not to be able to meet you
earlier today and wishes to make up for it.” Ardman smiled.
“I'll pay for the flights and hotels. Or rather, I'll suggest the
Foreign Office charge King Hassan for it.”

Chance coughed. “I, er, don't actually have much leave
left.”

Ardman nodded seriously. “I know. But since this is a special
occasion I'm willing to let you have a few extra days.”

“Yeah, Dad,” said Rich. “You don't get out of it
that easily.”

“That's right, you have to be there too,” Jade told him.

Chance laughed. “OK, no problem. Actually, I'm looking forward
to it. It'll take a crisis bigger than the one we just sorted out to keep
me away from making that reception. I'll definitely be there.”

“Just so long as you two don't get into any trouble while
you're there,” added Ardman.

“We won't,” said Rich.

“No way,” agreed Jade.

Like their father, they were both going to be proved very wrong
indeed.

First published in paperback in Great Britain by HarperCollins
Children's Books
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