Jet Skis, Swamps & Smugglers

Home > Young Adult > Jet Skis, Swamps & Smugglers > Page 8
Jet Skis, Swamps & Smugglers Page 8

by Robert Muchamore


  The Durley Grange and a couple of its near neighbours were the finest hotels on the island, and the boats in their moorings were the toys of billionaires, protected by guards with assault rifles. As they walked down South Strip, things got less stratospheric, with lots of smaller yachts and pleasure boats.

  Neo spotted a well-known soccer player signing an autograph for two young lads, and Robin was tempted by a super-fancy gelato shop until he saw that a single scoop cost nine bucks.

  ‘Not for riff-raff like us,’ Neo joked.

  The centre of South Strip was a hectic stretch of beach. Jet skis buzzed about and tourists queued for fan boats that would take them out into the swampland to see the giant turtles and water-bird colonies.

  After a quick stop to buy croissants, plus coffee for Neo and a milkshake for Robin, the pair felt they were onto something when they reached the end of the beach, and another set of moorings. The vibe here was more street, with skateboarding teens, traders with fake designer gear spread over the pavement and garish signs offering boats for hire.

  They walked onto the gently swaying dock’s main walkway to give a couple of larger boats a closer look.

  ‘You boys wanna fish?’ a young woman in tight shorts and CHEAP DAY TRIPS printed across her chest asked as she stepped in front of Neo. ‘I can do a whole package. Hundred and twenty – that includes two beers each and no sneaky extras for bait or to clean your catch.’

  Another woman hopped off a boat on the other side of the floating harbour. ‘I can do a nicer boat than her for the same price.’

  ‘Three beers each!’ Cheap Day Trips said, then turned to the other woman and snarled, ‘I see these handsome boys first. Keep showing me disrespect and I’ll punch your mouth.’

  ‘We’re not looking to go fishing today,’ Neo said politely, trying to get past.

  ‘How can you not want fishing?’ she asked, blocking Neo’s path. ‘Look at this sun. This water is beautiful.’

  ‘Do I get beer?’ Robin asked.

  The woman looked excited now Robin had shown interest, but Neo gave Robin’s shirt a let’s get away from this nutter tug.

  ‘I put the beer on the boat and we not gonna watch who drinks it, little man. Hundred and twenty. Such a great deal! What do you boys say?’

  ‘We’re looking for a big boat for my brother’s eighteenth birthday,’ Robin said, to Neo’s surprise. ‘Like, all of his friends, in a few weeks’ time.’

  The woman clapped, then pointed at the biggest boat in the harbour. ‘Old King Henry will do a buzzing party. I know the owner – I’ll get you an amazing price. Can I get your number?’

  ‘How many people will that take?’ Robin asked.

  ‘Seventy, eighty . . .’ she answered. ‘And I can spice tings up, if you know what I mean. If you want girls or reefer. Got all the best DJs in my contact list. It will be the night of your young lives.’

  Neo cottoned on to what Robin was doing. ‘Is there anything bigger,’ Neo asked. ‘Like a hundred . . . hundred and twenty-five people?’

  The woman thought for a second. ‘The only bigger boat on this harbour is Swamp King. She went out well early with a corporate party, but it’ll be back soon. The only other one that big is Cottontail. It don’t dock here, but it’s owned by a pal of mine. Can I get a phone number, because I can make calls and get you a massive deal? Where are you boys staying by the way?’

  ‘Durley Grange,’ Neo said.

  ‘Oh, you be rich boys!’ the woman said, cracking an ear-piercing laugh as she pulled a business card out of her tiny shorts. ‘This is me, Starlet McGill. Don’t go behind my back to anyone else, because I swear all best deals go through me!’

  ‘Thank you, Starlet,’ Neo said, trying not to smirk as he pocketed the business card and started walking away.

  She followed them. ‘I don’t mean to pester, but how about that mobile number?’

  Neo was lost for words so Robin stepped in.

  ‘Our dad’s bodyguard says we should never give it out,’ he said. ‘But thank you, Starlet.’

  Robin and Neo cracked up laughing as they finally broke free.

  ‘That girl was full on!’ Neo laughed, shaking his head in disbelief. ‘What was that about our dad’s bodyguard? You’re so random!’

  ‘It popped into my head,’ Robin said, smirking. ‘Where did she say the really big boat docked?’

  ‘Swamp King,’ Neo said, pointing. ‘Right ahead.’

  There was nothing to see but an empty berth with a flapping vinyl sign tied to a locked barrier. The sign had a picture of a pristine white boat, with a web address.

  ‘Is that it?’ Neo asked.

  ‘Looks the right shape,’ Robin said. ‘But way newer.’

  ‘Everything looks better in the ad,’ Neo pointed out.

  Robin wondered if he could find a different picture online, so he pulled his phone and searched Swamp King Skegness Island.

  The top result was from a local news website with the headline:

  Party Boat Owners Slapped with Record Fine – Rat Droppings & Dead Kitten Found Onboard

  He clicked the link and saw a large tatty boat, with yellowed paint, boarded windows and cylindrical life raft containers crusted with bird poop.

  Robin looked up at Neo and cracked a smile. ‘We’ve found it.’

  23. STRIP ARCHERY

  Prices at this end of South Strip were more suited to the boys’ budget. Neo found a seafood restaurant that had great online reviews and a view over the harbour, so they’d see when Swamp King returned to the dock.

  Robin and Neo both had teen-boy appetites so they ordered a seafood platter with a massive bowl of chips on the side. As they waited for the food at their balcony table, Robin’s eye was drawn to a patch close to the beach that had been a car park before South Strip got pedestrianised.

  The cracked blacktop had food stands, a sprawling go-kart track and the storage shed for a jet-ski hire company, but the newest and busiest attraction was filled with kids doing archery.

  ‘Now Open, South Strip Archery – Have fun and learn to shoot like Robin Hood,’ Neo said, reading the sign aloud.

  ‘I’m outraged,’ Robin joked, glancing around to make sure nobody was within earshot. ‘They should pay me royalties!’

  They didn’t have an angle to see the shooting lanes inside, but there was a steady stream of parents dropping off kids for parties and lessons, and Robin saw several leaving by the gift shop with chic mothers carrying plastic bags stuffed with bows, targets and fancy arrows.

  ‘Looks like they’re coining it,’ Neo said, as a waiter gave Robin his Rage Cola and asked for ID before letting Neo have his beer.

  ‘Rich brats,’ Robin complained, as the waiter headed away. ‘That kid getting in the taxi with his dad has a better arrow than me. And there’s so much demand, my favourite arrows have doubled in price.’

  ‘You’re a trendsetter,’ Neo said.

  Before Robin could answer, one waiter slid a bowl of fries onto the table, while another needed both hands to lower a mound of seafood big enough to block Robin’s view of Neo across the table.

  ‘This looks amazing, thank you,’ Neo purred, as he tucked a bib under his collar and picked up a set of metal lobster crackers.

  Robin’s thoughts turned to their mission as he dipped a huge tiger shrimp in melted butter. ‘So we’re gonna wait for Swamp King. Then what?’ he asked. ‘I was thinking maybe we could pretend to be interested in hiring it and try to get a look around.’

  Neo spoke with his mouth full. ‘I was thinking about the navigation system.’

  Robin didn’t know much about boats. ‘Like satnav in a car?’

  ‘Same function, but more complex,’ Neo said. ‘The delta is tricky to navigate without software, even in my little rescue dinghy. Little islands that you don’t see in the dark are bad enough, but the rocks below water will rip your hull and send you down Titanic style.’

  Robin nodded. ‘I’ve been out on Diogo’s
boat. There’s wrecks everywhere.’

  ‘And when you programme the navigation, it’s not just the route. You need the latest tide and weather information. That all takes time. So navigation systems tend to store the last few trips you’ve taken.

  ‘As far back as two weeks ago?’ Robin asked, as he split a crab claw.

  ‘The navigation units we use on the Delta Rescue dinghies go back weeks. We also save our most regular routes on all four boats.’

  Robin nodded. ‘But you can delete them if you want?’

  ‘For sure,’ Neo said. ‘Anyone smart would delete their navigation data after doing something illegal. But the video on your phone showed a bunch of beer-quaffing thugs who enjoy slapping the women around. So maybe we’ll get lucky . . . Do you want half of this?’

  Robin recoiled as Neo used tongs to raise a giant squid tentacle.

  ‘I’ll stick with shrimp and lobster,’ he said.

  ‘Coward!’ Neo laughed, as he chopped off a small sucker-covered slice and dropped it onto Robin’s plate. ‘It’s delish – you have to try.’

  Robin closed his eyes as he ate his slice of tentacle and gave his verdict. ‘Better than the economy sausages my dad used to serve up when we had no money.’

  ‘So we go back to Swamp King when it arrives,’ Neo said.

  Robin nodded. ‘Stick to my story from earlier and say you want to hire a big party boat for your eighteenth. Ask to have a look around. Once we’re aboard, we snatch the navigation unit and leg it.’

  Neo hesitated. ‘We’ll probably need a screwdriver to remove it. And they’re not just going to stand there and let us steal it – we’ll need to disable someone. Azeem has taught me enough ju-jitsu to choke a guy out.’

  ‘We passed a marine supply shop,’ Robin said. ‘They’ll have rope for if we need to tie someone up, and I’ve got a multitool that Marion got me for my birthday, but the screwdriver on it isn’t great.’

  ‘We’ll buy some rope and a decent screwdriver,’ Neo agreed. ‘But Swamp King will still be here if we come back another day, so if it feels risky, we’ll sneak back at night or something.’

  ‘Definitely don’t want to get trapped,’ Robin said, as he nodded in agreement. ‘Diogo said there’s only one bridge off this island and it’s too far to swim.’

  24. BEST-LAID PLANS

  Robin and Neo were stuffed as they left the restaurant with half the ocean in their bellies. They grabbed a coil of rope and a multi-bit screwdriver at the marine supply store and saw Swamp King approaching its berth as they strolled out.

  The U-shaped walkway through the dock met the shore at both ends, and they went the opposite way from last time to avoid another encounter with Starlet McGill.

  Robin had only seen Swamp King in the dark from across Landing Dock Y and wasn’t prepared for the scale of the vessel close up. After the gangplank slammed on the wharf, forty boozed-up staff of a Capital City accounting firm came stumbling ashore. Some loud, some seasick and a few carrying bags with dead fish sticking out.

  Once the accountants were clear, a three-person cleaning crew hurried aboard, while deck staff in waiters’ uniforms threw off rubbish sacks filled with glass bottles and wheeled empty catering trolleys and clattering racks of used champagne flutes down the gangplank.

  Robin studied a woman two decks up. She was tall and wore a white captain’s uniform as she stood in the open doorway of Swamp King’s bridge, puffing clouds of vape smoke. She seemed familiar, but Robin wasn’t certain until she yelled down at the cleaners.

  ‘Someone’s wig got sucked down the upstairs crapper. You’re gonna need the big pump.’

  ‘That captain was there the other week,’ Robin told Neo. ‘She had camo trousers on and smashed a woman’s nose in for asking a question.’

  ‘Nice lady,’ Neo said, then tutted.

  The dock had benches for passengers waiting to board. They decided the best thing was to sit and watch for a while. Neo bought coffees and freshly fried donuts from a stall by the dock’s entrance, to make it look like they had a reason to be there.

  ‘This boat has to be clean, stocked and ready to depart in an hour,’ the captain shouted to the waiters, as she walked down steep steps from the top deck. ‘Let’s see some hustle. Has anyone seen the refuelling crew?’

  The captain was yelling into her phone as she strode purposefully off the dock, sweeping past Robin and Neo without seeing them. ‘I need fuel on the boat, John. I’ve got another cruise in an hour . . . Did you pay the last invoice? Because they’re not here.’

  As soon as she was out of earshot, Neo spoke quietly to Robin. ‘Boat leaves in an hour, captain’s gone. You fancy our chances if we sneak up there?’

  Robin nodded. ‘If it’s lunch, she’ll be at least fifteen minutes, and I can’t see anyone else on the bridge.’

  ‘I had no idea there would be so many people servicing the boat,’ Neo said. ‘This could be our only shot unless we hang around until night-time.’

  ‘I think we should chance it,’ Robin said. ‘If we’re stopped, just act confident. Say we’re here early for the afternoon trip. Worst thing they’ll do is kick us off.’

  Neo led the way through the open gate onto Swamp King’s dock. The cleaners were vacuuming inside, but the catering staff had sloped off to gossip on the rear deck as soon as their boss was out of sight.

  The boys ducked as they jogged along the gangplank and clambered the two flights of steep rungs to the bridge.

  Neo checked there was nobody inside, but the sliding door didn’t budge when he shoved.

  ‘Locked,’ he grunted.

  Robin looked for another way in and saw every sliding window along the front of the bridge was open.

  ‘I’ll squeeze through if you give me a boost,’ Robin said, as he took off his backpack.

  Robin glanced back to check if anyone on the dock was looking their way, then Neo grabbed him around the knees and fed him through a high window. Robin reached out awkwardly, trying not to knock rows of switches as he slid down onto a control console next to the ship’s main steering panel, then did a forward roll before planting feet on the floor.

  Robin could hear voices and a pump thudding at the bottom of an internal staircase. He inhaled pure filth as he dashed across to let Neo in. The stench of clogged drain didn’t sit well on top of seafood and donuts, and as Neo stepped by Robin held onto the sliding door and almost puked.

  ‘That explains why the windows were open,’ Neo said, pulling his shirt up over his nose as he returned Robin’s backpack.

  ‘Captain said the toilets were blocked,’ Robin moaned, as he retched again.

  ‘You keep watch,’ Neo said, then scanned the control console.

  Everything from the radar set to the ship’s radio were modular units, designed to be swapped out if they malfunctioned. As Neo tried to keep the stench out of mind, he identified a navigation unit. It had a 25cm screen and was fixed into a console next to the ship’s control stick with four screws.

  ‘All clear out here,’ Robin said, glancing about as Neo slotted a magnetic bit into the newly purchased screwdriver.

  The screws were easy, and the wires linking the navigation unit to depth sounders and an outdoor GPS receiver glided out, but the power cable was hard-wired into the back of the unit and Neo couldn’t get his arm far enough inside the console to unplug it.

  ‘Can’t reach the socket,’ he gasped, as he lifted the navigation unit out of its slot and peered into the console’s murky interior. ‘Have you got a wire cutter on your multitool?’

  The inside of Robin’s backpack was a disaster zone, but after churning through everything from a baseball cap to the false teeth he’d found at the church hall, Robin found the multitool and opened a little set of wire cutters.

  ‘I’ll lift this up so that the wire is taut,’ Neo said. ‘You reach under and snip it.’

  ‘Right,’ Robin said, as he ducked under Neo’s armpit and leaned on the console.

  T
he power cable was chunky and the cutters didn’t have much leverage because they were only ten centimetres long. Robin squeezed with both hands and was about to suggest they swap roles because Neo was stronger when the wire finally split.

  ‘Got it!’ Robin said.

  Neo stumbled back as the cable snapped free. Robin heard rapid clicks followed by the tingling sensation of an electric shock. His hand sprang open and his multitool dropped irretrievably deep inside the console. At the same time, a quick deafening blast erupted from the ship’s horn before fading like wheezing bagpipes.

  ‘Zapped me!’ Robin hissed, kicking the console furiously as he flicked his wrist to fight the pain.

  Neo looked out front and realised the horn blast had made everyone on the dock look their way. At the same time everything inside the boat had gone eerily silent. No pump, ventilation or vacuuming.

  ‘I think we fused the electrics for the whole boat,’ Neo said, looking worried as he dropped the navigation unit into his backpack.

  An engineer wearing the kind of elbow-length gloves you put on when your hands are going somewhere extremely nasty poked his head up from the bottom of the internal stairs. ‘Hey! Who are you?’

  Robin stepped out of the bridge and saw one of the waiters running up the outside steps towards him.

  25. GETTING WET

  If you can’t go down, you have to go up. Robin snatched his backpack, used the handle of the bridge’s sliding door as a foothold and pulled himself onto the roof, amidst radio masts and a radar dome. Neo was fit but lacked Robin’s climbing skills and needed a hand up.

  The waiter who’d been running up the stairs reached for Neo’s black basketball boot but decided minimum wage plus tips wasn’t enough to risk life and limb chasing over a slippery roof.

  Mildewed plastic flexed as Robin ran towards Swamp King’s stern. He bounced down onto a striped canopy that extended across part of the rear deck, then rolled off the side onto a walkway near the gangplank.

  As Robin landed, a big-shouldered woman in grubby engineer’s overalls came at him brandishing a massive wrench. As Neo landed behind, Robin ducked and the swinging wrench made a clank and chipped paint off Swamp King’s superstructure.

 

‹ Prev