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Authors: Isla Whitcroft

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BOOK: Trapped
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And if I decide that this is all too big for me, too scary, then what?
thought Cate, staring at Marcus's intense expression.

The agent seemed to read her mind and shrugged. ‘Cate, if you don't want to do this, just tell us. We're not monsters or modern day Fagins, forcing you to do something against your will. Say the word and we'll get you away from here and we'll never mention it again.' His voice took on a wheedling tone. ‘Why don't you look on it as a charitable endeavour, or a sort of really unusual work experience? Help us out if you can and, at the end of it, you just walk away. Well, Cate, what will it be?'

C
HAPTER
6

Cate stumbled back out of the alleyway into the bright, late afternoon sunshine and stood for a few minutes, gulping in the fresh air, frantically trying to reset her brain and make sense of what she had just agreed to do.

Gradually, the heat warmed her cold limbs, the fresh, salty sea breeze blowing away the cloying dampness of the caves from her nostrils, and she began to feel part of the human race again.

She looked down at the bulging straw shopping baskets she was clutching in either hand. Marcus had shoved them at her just before he sent her back to rejoin the outside world. ‘Your cover,' he had said. ‘Take them back to the boat and carry on as normal.'

But nestled in her pocket was another far more interesting gift from her new colleague.

‘Gadgets, devices, tricks of the trade,' Marcus had told her
with a big grin as he handed her the innocuous-looking square tin. ‘Every good spy should have them. There's another gadget in the bottom of one the baskets too. I'll run through all of them with you later.'

Then he was gone, back into the murky depths of the cave. As the lift screeched and juddered its way upwards, Cate wondered how someone who did a job like Marcus's could manage to behave in an even remotely normal way, let alone be that laid-back on the boat. She knew it must be tough to compartmentalise like this.

‘Think like an agent, act like an agent,' she told herself as she sent Arthur a text to tell him she was safe and well, and deactivated the tracker. That done, she began to walk back down the cobbled street towards the marina.

Back on the boat, no one seemed to have noticed that Cate had even been away. Wendy was on the middle deck, quietly chatting to Lulu who was sprawled out full length on one of the large sofas. Both women gave Cate a cursory glance and a wave, noting, Cate hoped, her shopping baskets.

She unpacked the baskets in the galley, marvelling as she saw delicacies such as Beluga Caviar, dressed crab and fresh lobster. Right at the bottom was a small package with her name on it. She took it, and headed down to her cabin and shut the door on the world with relief.

She lay on the bed and forced herself to think hard. Were these people for real? Or were they the type of grown men who play-acted at being soldiers on paintballing weekends or wore khaki to the pub and claimed to have been in the SAS? If so, it was a pretty elaborate scam, especially considering the vast
underground operation that she had just witnessed.

But Marcus and Henri didn't seem that type. Then there was the small matter of Andrei and his beating. She had certainly witnessed real thuggery, real criminals at work.

She needed to find out more and there was just one person she could really trust to help her. She pulled out her laptop and, remembering Marcus's advice to cover her tracks at all time, input the code Arthur had given her to activate the signal scrambler he'd set up. From now on, anyone trying to track her down using her internet access would be unable to pinpoint just where she was. She was, in cyber sense, invisible.

She waited as the computer connected to the web, then angled the camera towards her face. She found herself praying that Arthur would be sitting in his bedroom, close enough to hear the computer alert calling him. She suddenly craved the sound of his voice, the sound of home and normality, and for the second time that day felt tears pricking at the back of her eyes.

To her utter relief her prayers were answered. Within seconds, Arthur's face was on her screen, a big smile pasted across his face.

‘Hi, sis.' His voice sounded clear on the screen. ‘What's happening?'

‘God, Arthur, where do I start?' Cate swallowed hard. ‘I miss you so much.' She fell silent.

The smile on Arthur's face disappeared. ‘Sis, what's wrong? Are you OK?'

For a few awful seconds Cate thought she really was going to break down. She took a deep breath. ‘Arthur,' she began, ‘can
you record this for me, put it on a memory stick and keep it somewhere safe?'

He nodded, not quite understanding why, but obediently he tapped a few buttons on his keyboard and then signalled for her to go ahead.

‘I'm in the middle of something,' she said quietly. ‘A mystery, a crime, an investigation. I don't quite know how it happened, and part of me doesn't believe it is for real, but somehow, well, it is.'

As she began to recount the events of the last two days, Cate was well aware how fantastic they must have sounded. She could see Arthur's green eyes growing wider and the colour draining from his cheeks.

He let her talk, listening carefully without interruption. When she had finished he took a deep breath. ‘Sis, are you safe?'

‘I am for now.' She found herself smiling. ‘Although I'm starting to doubt everything. I thought this boat was safe, home even, but now I'm beginning to wonder.'

‘Look, Cate,' said Arthur, ‘what's happened to you sounds like something out of a Jason Bourne film. Like you've landed in the middle of some great fantastic adventure. But it won't be so great if you get hurt. And these guys that you're dealing with, well, both sides sound pretty hardcore to me.'

‘I'll have a look at Ramibia, especially that port – what was it called? Tendo?' Arthur was immediately distracted from his concern for Cate by the thought of some juicy cyber-detecting. ‘Tendo's mayor and the harbour master – they're the two people we want to know about,' continued Arthur, almost to
himself. ‘They must have internet access and email maybe, even if they are hidden away somewhere in the deepest, darkest ends of the web. I can try and get into their systems and see what I can find out.'

Now Cate was worried. ‘Arthur, be careful. These are really heavy people. If they suspect you are spying on them, well, they could get pretty angry. You don't want them tracking you down.'

Arthur smiled confidently. ‘Cate, the day someone can track me down over the internet is the day I hang up my mouse and look forward to working at McDonalds. This is
me
you're talking to. Don't you remember that time I got into the payroll system and doubled Dad's salary? They never did find out how that happened. Or when I got the final chapters of
The Deathly Hallows
way before anyone else. Now that was a mean piece of work.'

‘OK, OK, Arthur, you're the best.' Cate was laughing now. ‘But if you think for one second that someone is on to you, then promise me, swear to me on Dad's life, that you will get out of there and cover your tracks as you go. It's vital that they don't trace you.'

‘I promise, sis, but I want you to promise me something in return.' His face was completely serious now. ‘Text or mail me the code I'm sending you now every morning at ten a.m. and evening at ten p.m. I will give you an hour's leeway. After that, if I don't hear from you, I'll hand over this memory stick to Dad or Monique and let them come after you. Is that fair?'

‘Not only is it fair, Arthur, it's genius. As Dad always says, a back-up plan is a good plan.'

Brother and sister grinned at each other through
cyberspace. Cate's phone pinged. She had Arthur's code.

‘And look into those wildlife reserves that guard the really precious animals. Somehow security has been breached in every one of them and I just don't know how that can happen.'

‘Everyone has their price,' said Arthur solemnly.

‘Arthur!' said Cate half shocked, half laughing. ‘When did you get so cynical?'

He grinned back. ‘I've been watching too much
EastEnders
again.'

‘Just tune into me every night,' said Cate happily. Arthur always managed to cheer her up. ‘It's like a soap opera here, I can tell you. There's Nancy Kyle looking like a goddess, phone calls from pop stars, a weirdo stylist who also does her horoscope and a really scary woman who, as far as I can tell, just hangs around answering her BlackBerry.'

‘Sounds great,' said Arthur enthusiastically. ‘I'm going to talk Dad into bringing me down to see you once school ends. In the meantime, have you actually gone to sea yet?'

‘Er, no.' Cate laughed. ‘I'm beginning to realise that owning a yacht doesn't actually have much to do with sailing. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if Nancy Kyle suffered from seasickness!'

As both of them howled with laughter there was a knocking at Cate's cabin door.

‘Cate?' It was Wendy. ‘I need a hand. Tass Taplinski has rocked into town and Nancy wants to make sure he has an evening to remember.'

Cate motioned to Arthur to be quiet.

‘Cate,' said Wendy again, this time more impatiently. ‘Are you in there? Can you hear me?'

‘Yup, yes,' said Cate, trying her best to sound as if she had just woken up. ‘Just having a little nap. I'll be up in ten minutes.'

‘Make it five,' said Wendy shortly. ‘We've got a whole heap of things to do.'

Cate waited a few seconds before resuming her conversation with Arthur, but this time in a whisper.

‘Phew,' said her brother. ‘She sounds fierce.'

‘She's all right really,' Cate told him. ‘She just has a lot to do. Anyway, see what I mean about a soap opera? Now, to top it all, the gorgeous Tass Taplinski, darling of the celebrity magazines, the man who has dated just about every desirable woman from Madonna to Princess Mary of Lithuania, is about to come into my life.'

Arthur giggled. ‘Tass Taplinski, eh? It says here he won Top Pecs of the Year in
Cosmo
magazine three years running,' he said, reading from the web as he talked. ‘Plus his dad is the fourth richest man in Russia.'

‘He's more than just a pretty face,' said Cate defensively. ‘He played pro tennis.'

‘Reached the dizzy heights of number 247 in the world rankings,' said Arthur gleefully.

‘He produced that film, what was it called?
Bloodlines of the Father.
'

‘Which received a Raspberry Award for being so rubbish,' said Arthur still reading. ‘And he has been arrested for drink-driving in LA, been investigated for tax fraud in Germany. Uh-oh, and it says here Daddy had to bail him out of a bankruptcy suit in Florida when his property company hit the skids.'

‘Arthur, stop it,' laughed Cate. ‘He's a pretty hot loser, anyway. A loser with his own yacht, a plane, a Mayfair apartment in London and a house in LA. I just want to get close enough to smell his aftershave and get our pic taken together so I can show my mates. Listen, I've got to go. Love you lots.'

‘You too, sis. And don't worry. I'll get to work for you straightaway. By this time tomorrow I'll know everything there is to know about the IMIA, Ramibia and Nancy Kyle. Leave it to your clever little bro.'

Cate hurried off to Wendy. She found her talking to Bill on the outside deck.

Wendy thrust a tray holding drinks into Cate's hands. ‘Would you ask Nancy what she wants for dinner and when.'

Carrying the heavy tray, Cate went back inside the boat, and padded quietly through the salon towards the master suite. As she got nearer to Nancy's cabin, she heard music playing and the sound of raucous laughter.

Cate tapped quietly at the door and waited for half a minute or so before rapping again, this time slightly louder. Still the music continued and Cate gingerly opened the door with her left hand while trying to keep the tray level with her right.

The room was almost unrecognisable from the immaculate space where, just a few hours earlier, Cate had carefully unpacked the cases. Now most of those clothes were strewn over the bed, some of them trampled on the floor. A plate of cold chips was balanced precariously on the vanity sink.

Piled on the pillows were a host of giant cuddly toys – a panda, a tiger, a lion and a gorilla. There was even a white cheetah with a grotesque giant pink heart strung around its
neck bearing the words
exotic and rare
.
Significant?
wondered Cate.
Or normal for someone who's still not yet quite grown up? Is that true of Nancy?

She took a deep breath, unsure as to whether she would be bawled out or made welcome.

‘Hi,' she said, looking around the room for Nancy. She raised her voice nervously ‘I've brought your drinks. Shall I pour you them?'

As she spoke, the supermodel came wandering out of the bathroom, wearing a very short, lemon silk dressing gown and an enormous pair of diamond stud earrings. Even with her red hair wet and tousled and without any make-up, she looked sensational, her green eyes wide and bright and her skin palely luminous.

She was clutching her mobile phone to her left ear as she walked and her foghorn laugh filled the room. ‘Darling . . .' She sounded excited. ‘You know I love you, but Tass has just arrived in town and he has to come first. I'll try to get him along but he does get sooo jealous when he has to share little old me. Remember what happened in New York? And me such a good girl and all.'

Her caller obviously made the right reply because there was that laugh again. Cate tried hard not to wince. She would need earplugs if she was going to stay around Nancy for much longer.

‘Good job Tass didn't hear that or he'd set one of his bodyguards on you,' cackled Nancy. ‘Anyway, babe, have to go and make myself look beautiful for my billionaire. I'll party another time with my lovely Oirish boys, so I will. Promise. Love you loads.
Ciao, ciao
.'

BOOK: Trapped
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