The Crystal Code (23 page)

Chapter 32

T
he hangar stood dark as a tomb and twice as quiet, as Gerald, Felicity and Sam approached from the cover of a line of pine trees.

Gerald scuttled low across to the near wall, dropping to his haunches in the snow. Sam and Felicity followed. The moon cast a glow across the night as they edged silently towards the hangar doors. Gerald paused for a moment, held a breath, and inched his eye around the opening.

The twin-engined plane that had taken Ruby from him in Hadanka stood inside. There was a workbench and a large toolbox against one wall. Mismatched office chairs and a desk stood opposite. There was nobody about.

They crept inside. Felicity scooped something up from the floor near the plane. ‘Ruby's scarf,' she said, holding it up to Gerald. ‘We're on the right path.' She folded it into her jacket pocket.

‘Well, Brahe and Pugly aren't here now,' Gerald said. ‘They must have taken her somewhere else.'

‘There are tyre tracks in the snow out here,' Sam said from the doorway. ‘They should be easy to follow. Brahe can't be far away on an island this size.'

Gerald crossed to the toolbox and opened the metal cover. He pulled out three large wrenches and handed one each to Sam and Felicity. ‘We may as well have some weapons,' he said.

Felicity tested the weight of the wrench in the palm of her hand. ‘Do you really think Brahe would use a human heart?' She shivered. ‘It just seems so desperate.'

Gerald zipped his jacket to his chin. ‘In the last few months, one thing I've learned is that desperate people do desperate things.'

The tyre tracks led onto a narrow road. Gerald, Felicity and Sam followed them, the setting moon lighting their way.

They passed endless fields and the occasional farmhouse. Apart from the whinny of some horses in a lone stable, all was silent. The island of Ven was tucked up for the long winter's night.

After about a kilometre, the tyre tracks turned up a rough lane. On the right, well back from the laneway, was a farmhouse.

Gerald pulled Felicity and Sam into the shelter of a tall hedge that ran the length of the lane. ‘Did you see that?' he said. ‘There's smoke coming from the chimney. Someone's awake.'

‘Brahe?' Felicity said.

‘There's only one way to find out.'

Gerald went to push through the hedge but came up against a chain wire fence hidden amongst the foliage.

‘I'm going to have to climb over,' he said. He wedged his feet into the links in the fence and struggled through a tangle of branches. Twigs scratched at his face and stabbed into his ears as Gerald forced his way up. He reached out to grab at another link then whipped his hand back in sudden pain. A surgical cut ran the length of his forefinger. Gerald stared as a ribbon of blood appeared through the wound.

He thrust the finger into his mouth and half-climbed, half-fell back to the ground.

‘Razor wire,' he said with disgust. He held his finger out for Sam and Felicity to see. ‘There's no way over the top of this. We'll have to follow the lane and see if there's another way in.'

Sam took Felicity's pocketknife and cut a strip of cloth from the bottom of his T-shirt. Gerald wrapped his finger as best he could. They crept along in the shadow of the hedge. After a moment Sam stopped. He grabbed Gerald and Felicity by the arms and pulled them to the ground. Gerald looked to Sam, but before he could say anything, Sam pointed ahead. The farm gate was about thirty metres away.

Gerald strained to see in the dim light. The gate appeared to be flanked by two tall trees, growing in the hedge line. Then Gerald saw it. A glowing red ember, about a metre and a half above the ground. It flared bright, then faded.

A cigarette.

There was someone by the gate.

Sam motioned with a nod of his head and they retreated back to the main road, well out of earshot.

‘What do you think?' he whispered. ‘Someone on guard duty?'

‘It has to be,' Gerald whispered back. ‘You hardly need razor wire in a hedge. Someone's hiding something here.'

‘How do we get past them?' Felicity said. ‘That gate looks like the only way in.'

From his jacket, Gerald pulled the wrench that he'd taken from the hangar. ‘We could rush them,' he said. ‘Take them by surprise.'

Sam and Felicity looked at him doubtfully. ‘That's not exactly a plan, is it?' Felicity said. ‘Pretty hopeless, actually.'

Gerald dropped his shoulders. ‘So what do we do?'

Sam peered back up the laneway. ‘Tell you what. I'll sneak back there to get a closer look. At least see how many guards we're dealing with. Okay?'

It was Gerald's turn to look dubious. ‘Just be quiet,' he said.

Sam gave him a broad grin. ‘Have you ever known me to be anything else?'

He ducked across the lane and climbed into the paddock opposite the farm gate. Once he was behind the hedge, he was hidden.

Felicity let out a weary sigh. ‘I'm exhausted,' she said.

‘We all are,' Gerald said. ‘I can't imagine how Ruby is going.'

Felicity turned to face him. ‘And Alisha,' she said.

Gerald looked at her blankly for a second. ‘Yeah, of course,' he said. ‘Alisha too.'

Felicity held his gaze for a moment, then Gerald looked away.

Sam returned moments later, ducking through the hedge and scampering over the lane.

‘There's just one,' he said, puffing. ‘But he's a big unit. Dressed in full-on security gear.'

‘Any idea how to get past him?' Gerald asked.

Sam shook his head. ‘This hedge seems to go right round the farm, with razor wire all the way I'd reckon. Only way in or out is through the front gate, and past our new friend.'

The sound of a whinnying horse carried on the still night air.

Felicity raised her head and looked back the way they had come. She got to her feet and brushed herself down. ‘Listen up, boys,' she said. ‘I may have a plan.'

Gerald and Sam edged along the hedge line, as quiet as overly considerate mice. Gerald winced at every footfall as it squeaked into the snow. Cloaked in the shadow of the foliage at their backs, he and Sam took an age to advance to ten metres from the gate.

Gerald could just make out the dim outline of a pair of heavy metal gates, set between two large trees. Beyond, a pale light glowed in the window of a poky gatehouse. Gerald couldn't see any sign of the guard. He turned to Sam and gave him a quizzical look.

Sam shrugged.

Gerald checked his watch. He was about to crawl a little closer to the entrance when a sound came from back up the lane—the sound of a horse's hooves.

Gerald froze. He watched as the riderless horse approached, walking slowly down the middle of the laneway. It was a large grey with a heavy rug over its back. In the silver moonlight, it seemed to glow with a ghostly sheen. The horse let out a gentle whinny as it passed Sam and Gerald.

It ambled right up to the farm gate.

Then it stopped.

Seconds passed.

A giant of a man emerged from the shadows. His black fatigues blended into the night and it was only the rattle and clank of equipment dangling from his belt that confirmed he was a real person and not an apparition.

The horse bobbed its head and pawed the ground. The guard looked up and down the path. His hand rested on the butt of a pistol in a holster on his right hip.

‘Where did you get loose from, eh?' The man inched forward. ‘Who let you out on such a cold night?' The horse turned its head towards the man. The guard slowly raised his left hand and stroked its muzzle.

The horse blew two shots of steam from its nostrils and nuzzled up to the man's touch.

‘That's a girl,' he said gently. ‘Everything's all right.'

Then Felicity popped her head up from behind the horse's flank and yelled, ‘Surprise!'

‘Wha—?' The guard recoiled, shock plastered across his face.

Felicity swung up onto the horse's back. She dug her heels into its ribs and the beast reared onto its hind legs. The guard stumbled backwards, his arms spinning as he tried to regain balance. The horse neighed and lashed out with a front leg.

The hoof collected square on the guard's jaw, knocking his head back and sending him flying into the snow. Gerald and Sam scrambled out from the hedge and pounced.

The guard was out cold, laid out like a body in the morgue. Gerald grabbed the pair of handcuffs on the man's belt.

‘Help me roll him over,' he said to Sam. Together, they strained to get the guard over onto his front. The handcuffs barely reached around his meaty wrists.

Felicity guided the horse between the trees and jumped down to help drag the guard into the gatehouse.

‘At least it's not too cold in here,' Sam said with a grunt as they heaved the man through the door.

Gerald looked around the sparsely furnished room. There was a table with a two-way radio on it, a chair, a sink, and a bar heater struggling to hold back the cold. Gerald unclipped the man's belt and dragged it out from under him. He found a second pair of handcuffs and manacled one of the guard's ankles to a pipe under the sink.

‘That should hold him for a bit,' Gerald said.

‘Nice riding, Felicity,' Sam said. ‘I would never have guessed you were hanging onto the other side of that horse.'

‘Thanks. A little trick we used to play at pony club,' she replied.

Sam shook his head and looked from Gerald to Felicity. ‘Flying lessons and horse riding. I've got to find me a better school.'

Gerald went through the guard's pockets. He handed a stun gun to Felicity and a truncheon to Sam. Then he pulled out the pistol from its holster and held it in his palm. They all stared down at it.

‘Have you ever used one before?' Sam asked, his eyes raking over the sleek lines of the handgun.

‘No.' Gerald swallowed. ‘I'm not sure I want to.'

‘What? No gun club at St Cuthbert's?'

Gerald stared at the pistol in his hand. ‘Yeah, there is. I just haven't joined yet.'

‘Then let's hope you don't need to use it,' Sam said. ‘Come on. We need to find Ruby.'

Gerald stuffed the radio into his jacket and followed Sam and Felicity out into the night. He locked the gatehouse door as he left.

A broad path, bordered on either side by a line of trees, led up a slope towards the farmhouse.

‘That's strange,' Felicity said. Her voice was barely louder than her footsteps. ‘There's no light in any of the windows.'

Gerald squinted into the gloom. The building was more a cottage than a house. A thatched roof and whitewashed walls. Two rooms wide at the front, with the door in the middle like a nose on a face. The windows were blank eyes. The only sign of life was smoke curling from a chimney at the back of the building.

‘Someone is keeping that fire going,' Gerald said.

‘And there'd be no point having man mountain on the front gate if no one was at home,' Sam said, nodding back towards the gatehouse.

‘Let's sneak around the back,' Gerald said. He tightened his grip on the pistol.

They kept to the shadows and cut a path wide around the building. A cluster of trees at one end of the house provided some cover. Gerald motioned for Sam and Felicity to stay put, and he crawled across the frozen ground right up to the cottage. He pressed his back against the wall and glanced up. There was a window right above him. Gerald felt the weight of the gun in his hand. He rose up on his knees and peered inside.

It took a second for his eyes to adjust well enough to recognise a tiny farm kitchen: ancient timber benches, an old wood burning stove, a stone sink with a water pump beneath the window. But there was something odd about the scene. Something not quite right. It took a moment for Gerald to realise what it was. He ducked down and beckoned Sam and Felicity.

They scampered across and plopped down next to him.

‘What is it?' Felicity whispered.

Gerald frowned before replying. ‘I don't think anyone's here,' he said.

‘What do you mean?' Sam said. ‘What about the smoke from the chimney? What about the gorilla at the gate?'

‘Follow me,' Gerald said. ‘I'll show you.'

He crept along the wall until he reached a door. He tried the handle—it opened easily—and he ducked inside.

The kitchen smelled of neglect. Gerald ran a finger along a timber bench. It left a shiny trail in a layer of dust.

‘There's nothing on the shelves,' he said to Sam and Felicity. ‘No food, no packages. There's no fridge. There are cobwebs in the sink.' He scanned the room. ‘This place hasn't been used in ages.'

Sam ducked through a doorway on the far side of the kitchen. ‘Come and look at this,' he called.

Felicity and Gerald followed him into an empty room. There was no furniture, no pictures on the walls, no rug on the floorboards. The entire cottage consisted of just four rooms and they were all bare.