White Gold (16 page)

Arctic Ocean

Chris Weston checked the GPS and slowed the engines. Miles Brogan methodically scanned the dark horizon. Somewhere out there, their ticket through the Arctic ice waited for them and, given what was at stake, it wouldn’t be prudent to make a mistake like missing an appointment with a Russian ship flying a flag of convenience.

‘There!’

Weston lowered his binoculars and pointed to a break in the darkness of the Arctic winter. ‘There she is.’

Brogan took the proffered binoculars and peered through them. As a weak moon shone through the clouds, two piercing searchlights reached out to them. The lights drew closer, and then Brogan gasped. Shark teeth, bright white, with a gaping red mouth between them, jumped out of the darkness at him. He lowered the binoculars in shock.

Weston laughed. ‘Nervous Captain? It’s only a ship.’

Brogan raised the binoculars to his face again. The effect was staggering. The black hull of an ice-breaker rose through the darkness, a set of teeth painted on the bow like an old warplane.

The hijacker’s leader told Weston to slow the freighter, and then picked up his mobile phone. Brogan continued to watch through the binoculars, mesmerised, while the other man placed a call.

The leader walked over to Brogan. ‘Okay. Signal them. I’ve told them we don’t expect to have to stop so we want them in front of us as we approach. We’ll worry about the pleasantries once we’re safely in Severnya Zemlya.’

Brogan looked out the freighter’s windscreen at the bleak seascape. He tried to maintain a constant surveillance of the grey, wind-chopped sea, looking for rogue icebergs. Even with the icebreaker as escort, the freighter was vulnerable. As the winter darkness paled to a half-hearted dawn, the light reflected off the grey tones of the water, making it hard to spot icebergs until they were dangerously close. Brogan knew the ice-breaker’s crew would be paid to do a good job, but years of experience meant he kept his eyes scanning the horizon, just in case.  Better to be prepared than to have to take evasive action, especially with a ship the size of the
World’s End
.

He took a sip of coffee and glanced at Weston. ‘Have you heard a weather report?’

The former first officer nodded. ‘It’s not the perfect run we’d hoped for but to be honest, I thought it was going to be much worse than this. That storm should pass over us tomorrow morning so at least we’ll be able to see where we’re going. It wouldn’t be much fun going through that at night around here.’

Brogan gestured with his coffee mug at the icebreaker. ‘How did you end up with a Russian-flagged escort?’

Weston shrugged. ‘Best not to ask.’

Brogan murmured his agreement. He peered through the ice-covered windows at the grey expanse before him. The enormous freighter bucked gently over the white tipped swell as he followed the ice-breaker’s wake. He cast his eyes over the instrument panel below him. Normally, he’d have both GPS and radar monitors to guide him but his new bosses were insistent on not switching these on.

Brogan wondered what the hell they were hiding from the authorities. Somehow, it was connected with the black sedan in the cargo hold, but so far he couldn’t figure out what it was. He kept his head down and his ears open, to try and find out more. He was sailing blind – the gunmen wouldn’t even let him find out weather reports for their position. Instead, he was going to have to rely on information relayed from the Russian ship in front of him. He wondered what would happen once they reached their destination. Were they planning on sailing further?

Brisbane, Australia

Delaney put the phone down, turned to the other two men in the room and smiled. ‘An update from my team leader. We’re on schedule.’

The other two men grinned and provided spontaneous applause.

‘That is great news my friend,’ said Uli Petrov. ‘I always had faith in you and my investment.’

Delaney bowed his head, acknowledging the praise.

Pallisder took a swig of the amber liquid in his glass, glanced out the window at the city lights below and turned to Delaney. ‘How come you didn’t develop this at one of your Eurasian mines, Morris? Surely that’s one hell of a risk sending it by ship – we can’t risk this freighter being hijacked at sea. Those idiots round the Suez don’t care what they take – hell, one Japanese firm lost 4,000 cars six months ago. What makes you think ours is going to be safe?’

Delaney leaned back in the leather chair. ‘We’re not going to have to worry about Somali pirates.’

Pallisder turned his head to look at him, then looked at Uli. Petrov smiled indulgently and looked to Delaney.

‘Don’t tell me you’re planning on taking on all the pirates along that coastline as well,’ Pallisder laughed, looking at each man in turn.

Delaney smiled at him and shook his head. ‘We’re not going that way.’

Pallisder sat down and leaned forward on the boardroom table. ‘Go on.’

Delaney stood up and began pacing the room. ‘A couple of years ago, two German-flagged ships went through the Arctic North-West Passage. They left South Korea, travelled north, then headed west through the Arctic ice.’

‘That’s impossible!’

Delaney smiled. ‘It was once.’

‘Hang on a minute,’ said Pallisder. ‘They did that trip in the Arctic summer. There’s no way you’re getting through there now.’

Delaney folded his arms. ‘Thanks to a little-known phenomenon called
global warming
,’ he smiled, acknowledging the ripple of laughter round the room, ‘it’s now possible to navigate the route most of the year.’

He nodded towards Uli. ‘We have a Russian icebreaker leading the way and we’ve ensured the crew are experienced on that route.’

Near Uffington, Oxfordshire, England

Dan walked up the ice-covered garden path and banged on the front door. He shoved his hands in his jacket pockets and stamped his feet, then turned round to take in the sprawling view opposite the house while he waited.

He grimaced. A yellowing grey sky hung over the hillside, meaning another imminent snow storm was due for the Thames Valley. He spun round as the door opened, the warmth from inside rushing by his legs.

Harry grinned out at him. ‘Acclimatised yet?’

Dan shook his head and smiled. ‘No – let me in before I get hypothermia.’ He walked up the step and hung his jacket on the stair banister as Harry shut the door behind him.

‘What did you find out then?’ asked Harry.

Dan explained. ‘And we just can’t work out what he’s trying to do with the stuff – or where it’s going,’ he concluded.

Harry headed off down the hallway and pushed open a door which led through to a small dining room. Dan stood to one side while Harry cleared the dining table, sweeping crosswords and a half-finished jigsaw puzzle to one side.

‘Retirement games,’ he shrugged, and held out his hands for the documents in Dan’s hand. ‘Let’s see what you’ve come up with.’

Dan handed over the updated notes and watched as Harry carefully laid them out on the table, side by side. Once complete, the documents covered the surface. Harry bent over each one, his finger thoughtfully tapping his chin. Dan wandered over to the window and stared down the country lane, letting his mind drift as he looked at the scenery. He heard Harry murmur behind him and turned.

‘Sorry, what?’

Harry was grinning at him. ‘Fuel cells.’

Dan walked back to the table and stared at the documents. ‘Say again?’

‘Fuel cells. That’s what he’s up to.’

Dan glanced at Harry. ‘Are you sure? How did you work that out?’

Harry picked up Peter’s lecture notes and held them up to Dan.

‘Right from the start, Peter has been telling us ‘white gold’, ‘alternative energy’, right? We just looked in the wrong place. We’ve been looking for something big. That’s where we went wrong.’

Harry put down the lecture notes and turned to the financial documents. ‘Delaney and his group have been buying up gold mines – but if you look closer, they’ve been buying up interests in all mines which produce
platinum
group metals – gold, platinum and the rest.’

He put the documents down and turned to Dan. ‘We’ve gathered Delaney’s a maniac, and will do anything to protect his real interest – coal, of which he has a lot.’

Harry turned Dan towards the window and pointed. On the far horizon, the cooling towers of Didcot power station could be seen through the grey afternoon haze. ‘We also know, despite everything that’s being said by the politicians, the UK is going to have to start decommissioning its old coal-fired power stations before too long just to keep our masters in Europe happy. We haven’t got anything to take their place Dan – none of the so-called ‘alternatives’ are ready – we haven’t got enough wind farms, no solar arrays and nobody wants a nuclear power station in their back yard.’

Harry turned back to the room and began to gather up the notes. ‘Do you know how close we’ve come to having no electricity the past three winters? We’ve had to buy in gas from Russia just to keep up with demand. And that’s when we
do
have the coal-burning power stations on line.’

Dan folded his arms across his chest. ‘So what do you think?’

Harry smiled and beckoned Dan to follow him. ‘Come on – living room. Let’s have a warming drink. I think I’ve earned it.’

Dan followed Harry to the next room and slumped into one of the armchairs next to the fire. The cat raised its head off its bed next to the hearth, opened one eye to glare at Dan, then went back to sleep.

Harry picked up a bottle and two crystal glasses from a side table, handed one of the glasses to Dan and filled both. He placed the bottle on the floor next to his own armchair and sat down.

‘Cheers,’ he said to Dan.

They both took a swallow of the amber liquid and Dan gestured to Harry to continue.

‘I think,’ said Harry, ‘our own government has been a bit sneaky. As usual. In the United States and here, companies have been researching and perfecting fuel cell technology since the nineteen fifties. It’s no big secret – the NASA space program has always relied on them, including the space shuttle. It’s the only way they could generate the fuel to power the rockets while at the same time producing water for the crew and craft. What if our own government has been doing the same thing, trying to perfect fuel cell technology on a large scale so when the coal stops burning, they can effectively switch over to fuel cells instead?’

‘What’s that got to do with Delaney though – not to mention this group of his? What’s their interest in it?’ asked Dan.

Harry smiled. ‘A lot of organisations have been working on making bigger fuel cells – some are already widely used, but it’s really starting to take off now. I should’ve put two and two together at the beginning – I just didn’t see it,’ he said.

‘Harry – we couldn’t have got this far without your knowledge, so don’t beat yourself up,’ said Dan gently. ‘Just help me work this out so I can stop them.’

Harry nodded. ‘I know. It’s bloody frustrating though. I’m out of practice.’ He shrugged, took another sip of his drink, and then continued. ‘Fuel cells use platinum group metals.’

‘The same that Delaney has been buying into?’ interrupted Dan.

‘The exact same,’ Harry nodded. ‘In a fuel cell, the platinum group metal, gold we’re presuming in this instance, is used to coat the catalyst – the driver of the fuel cell if you like.’

Dan held up his hand. ‘Hang on, slow down. I didn’t do physics, remember?’

Harry grunted. ‘You did. I seem to remember you flunking it though.’

‘Thanks for the reminder,’ glared Dan. ‘Give me an idiot’s guide to fuel cells then.’

Harry smiled. ‘Easy. You need a reactant fuel – hydrogen for instance. The catalyst separates the protons and electrons within the fuel and the electrons are forced through a circuit – that’s what converts them to electrical power. Once the reaction has taken place, the catalyst puts the electrons back into the mix, which creates waste products like water. Very effective.’

He paused. ‘There are a few issues that have cropped up over the years though. It’s expensive – obviously, when you’re using platinum group metals – and you have to make sure the membrane around the fuel cell is kept hydrated so it doesn’t dry out. If it does, it’ll create too much heat and the fuel cell itself gets damaged. At the same time though, you have to make sure the water evaporates at a specific rate. If it evaporates too slowly, the fuel cell will become flooded which prevents the hydrogen reaching the catalyst.’

Harry took a sip of his drink then watched as he swirled the liquid around in his glass. ‘If someone has worked out how to perfect the manufacture of white gold powder on a large scale, they’re going to be able to generate a hell of a lot of energy in just one tiny fuel cell for a fraction of the cost it currently takes.’

Dan closed his eyes, lost in thought. Then he opened them. ‘David seems to think Delaney has worked out a way to make an atomic-like weapon. What do you think?’

Harry stared at the fire. The cat stood up and stretched lazily, then yawned and settled back onto its bed. Harry looked over at Dan.

‘He might have a point. When you try to turn white gold powder back into metallic gold, it can let off a small amount of radiation. If Delaney’s perfected that element of the process, he could very well use the hydrogen to propel the white gold reaction and generate an atomic explosion I suppose, especially if he lets the fuel cell dry out so it generates enough heat to start the reaction.’

Dan nodded. ‘That’s what I think he’s done. He’s going to take an alternative energy, probably the best one we’ve got, and scare people out of using it,’ he mused. ‘Do you think it’ll be enough to protect his coal business?’

‘Depends how big it is,’ said Harry. ‘If he’s successful and there’s an explosion somewhere, the media is only going to have to use the words ‘atomic bomb’ once and you’ve got mass hysteria.’

‘And in the meantime, we’ve got a car on a ship going somewhere and we don’t know much more,’ groaned Dan, slumping back into the armchair. Suddenly he sat up straight. ‘How is Delaney going to make sure the bomb will work when it reaches its destination – don’t fuel cells go flat?’

‘All he’d have to do is keep the fuel cells charged up – probably by wiring them up to the car battery,’ said Harry. ‘Until he hits the switch or whatever to trigger the reaction between the white gold powder and the hydrogen, it’ll be safe enough to transport.’

‘That black sedan is the key,’ agreed Dan. ‘We have to find it.’