by Dan Smith
Ash read her for evidence that she was lying. A twitch or a blink. A missed heartbeat. Anything.
‘It’s true.’ Isabel came closer and sat on the bed. ‘Cain saved your mama and my papa.’
‘No,’ Cain said. ‘Ash did that when he stopped Thorn getting his hands on that research. Until Pierce let it slip at the camp, I had no idea Thorn was working for The Broker. I can only guess that they let Pierce hire us, instead of using their own people, to avoid any link to The Broker – and to let Pierce feel like he was in charge. Pierce liked to be in charge, and if Thorn had chosen a team of his own, Pierce would never have trusted them. I suspect Thorn planned to pay us off as soon as we got to the mainland, let us leave, then kill Pierce and take Kronos to his boss. Getting trapped in the BioSphere complicated his plans.’
‘And we helped him get out,’ Isabel explained. ‘That’s why he didn’t hurt us. He was using us to escape.’
‘Looks like he had a helicopter waiting,’ Cain said, ‘just like ours was. Thorn must have been one of the few people who are close to The Broker leadership. If I had known sooner, I might have been able to get him to talk . . .’ She shook her head. ‘Well, the link’s gone now. But don’t be mistaken; that’s the only reason I brought help. Not to save you. The Broker was my priority. With Thorn and Pierce dead, though, I had no reason to continue my mission.’
Ash watched his mum and wondered how she felt about all this. None of it would have happened if she hadn’t created Kronos. He wondered if she knew that Dad would still be alive if not for her work.
‘Your life is going to be very different from now on,’ Cain said. ‘In my experience, The Broker gets what it wants, one way or another. They know who you are, so you’ll have to disappear. Very few places will be safe for you. We need to leave immediately; we’ve already stayed longer than we should.’ She watched him for a moment. ‘And you’re in debt. To me.’
Ash didn’t understand.
‘If it hadn’t been for you, Pierce would be leading me to The Broker right now. You owe me.’ Cain’s expression was serious. ‘And I think you might become very useful.’
‘No,’ Mum said. ‘He doesn’t owe you anything. You can’t make him—’
‘I’m afraid you don’t have a choice, Dr McCarthy. There is nowhere for you to go – you belong to us now. Your son is special and we intend to find out just how deep that goes.’ Cain lifted a mirror from the bedside table and held it up for Ash to look into. ‘When I pulled you from the water, you were burnt and half your face was hanging off. Bringing you here in the helicopter, I watched you heal. Never seen anything like it.’
Ash looked at his green-eyed reflection and traced a finger along the cut running across his eyebrow and down his cheek. It was red and raw, but in a few more days the only trace of it would be a nick in his left eyebrow where the hair would never grow.
‘We’re going to find out exactly what Type Twenty-four did to you,’ Cain said. ‘Now, get up. It’s time to leave. The pilot is already preparing the helicopter.’ She turned on her heels and left the room.
Isabel bustled out after her, and the room fell into silence.
Ash put down the mirror and looked at Mum. Everything over the past twenty-four hours had led to this moment. Everything he had been through had been to protect her, and it didn’t matter what she had done. He didn’t care that she had made Kronos. All that mattered was that he had kept his promise to save her. He hadn’t lost her the way he had lost Dad.
‘You’re so brave.’ Tears welled in his mum’s eyes as she reached out to take his hand. ‘I’m so sorry about everything; that I let Pierce . . . do that to you. I should never have brought you to the island . . . I shouldn’t have . . .’ Tears were rolling down her cheeks now. ‘I should never have left you alone with Pierce. I didn’t know what kind of man he was, that he could do such a—’
‘It’s all right.’ Ash took his hand from Mum’s and picked up the identity tag that lay nestled in the coils of its leather cord. He put it over his head. ‘Pierce changed me. This island changed me. It made me better.’ He sat forward and put his arms around Mum. ‘And I came back, didn’t I?’
‘Yes you did.’ Mum hugged him tight.
‘And I saved you.’
‘Dad would be so proud.’
‘I saved you,’ Ash said again. ‘Just like I promised.’
1 hr and 23 mins later
SOMEWHERE OFF THE WEST COAST OF COSTA RICA
The Blackhawk helicopter skimmed thirty metres above the waves as it flew out across the Pacific Ocean towards Isla Negra. Modifications to its design meant that it was one of a kind. The engines ran quieter than any known helicopter, and it was equipped with stealth technology and terrain-following radar to enable low-level flying. It was undetectable – a ghost that was able to deliver swift and violent destruction from its Hydra rocket pods, Hellfire missiles and dual mini-guns.
Inside the cockpit, the co-pilot watched the screen in the centre of the instrument array, then looked up at the white-crested sea. ‘Continue on this heading.’ He spoke into his headset without looking at the pilot. ‘We’ll reach in one minute.’
‘Copy that.’ The pilot took the helicopter lower and glanced at the screen. It showed an image of the area they were flying over, with the north tip of Isla Negra just visible. A kilometre from the shore, in the expanse of the Pacific Ocean, a single green dot pulsed silently. At the bottom of the screen was displayed the heartbeat, blood pressure, respiratory rate, body temperature and blood sugar levels of the owner of the green dot.
‘Coming up on it now.’ The co-pilot spoke once more. ‘Twenty seconds.’ He watched the screen. ‘And . . . mark.’
The pilot slowed the helicopter and settled it into a quiet hover, descending close to the surface of the water. When he had reached the lowest safe height, he spoke into his headset. ‘Ready for pick-up?’
‘On your order,’ came the reply from the rear cabin of the helicopter.
‘Execute.’
In the rear cabin, one soldier drew back the door while another stepped forward and out. Harnessed and attached to a winch, he dropped quickly to the surface of the water where a slender man floated, clinging to a piece of wreckage from a boat named Olympian. His clothing was torn and singed, his hair was completely burnt away, and one side of his face was scorched and bleeding.
The soldier clipped the slender man to his own harness and spoke into his headset. ‘Bring us up.’
Once aboard the Blackhawk, a medic was standing by with a syringe in one hand. He had been monitoring the slender man’s vital signs and already knew what emergency treatment would keep him alive.
Exactly thirty seconds after receiving an injection, Lathan Thorn opened his left eye and took a deep breath. His whole body was wracked with pain. The leg was bad, but his face was worse. When he had been blown out of the helicopter by the HEX13 explosion, the blast had almost melted the right side of his face, sealing his right eye shut.
He looked up at the medic, then at the soldiers sitting on either side of the rear cabin. Four men to his left, four to his right, each of them armed with an FN SCAR Mk 17 assault rifle.
‘Orders?’ A face came into view, leaning over.
Lathan Thorn watched the team leader for a moment, but when he tried to speak, only the left side of his mouth would open. He took a moment to compose himself, then tried again. ‘BioSphere,’ he said. ‘Centre of the island. All survivors . . . to be taken alive.’
‘Copy that.’ The team leader relayed the information to the pilot, and the helicopter began heading south.
Flying at over two hundred knots, it only took the Blackhawk a matter of minutes to cover the distance that Ash and Isabel had covered in hours. When the BioSphere was in sight, the pilot slowed and descended into the clearing, close to the wreck of another, less impressive helicopter.
Before it had touched the ground, the doors were open and the soldiers were jumping down, moving into formation
as they approached and entered the building. Two stayed on board, stationed at the mini-guns.
Lathan Thorn remained on board too, unable to move, but at least the pain was beginning to subside.
‘The painkillers will work for a while,’ the medic told him. ‘But we need to get you back ASAP. The longer we wait, the less we can do.’
‘Keep waiting.’
‘Yes, sir.’
Eleven minutes after entering the BioSphere, the team of elite soldiers returned, weapons held at ease.
‘It’s empty, sir.’ The team leader reported his findings. ‘Four security guards, who’ve been dead at least a day. A scientist.’
‘No women?’
‘No one else.’
‘Children?’
‘No one, sir. Not a soul. The place is a ghost ship. There’s nothing here.’
Lathan Thorn closed his good eye, and for the first time in years he felt rage. Pulse-racing, thought-scrambling rage. In a lifetime of service to The Broker, he had never failed. Never. And he would not begin now.
This was not over. He would survive his injuries, he would heal, and then he would find Ash McCarthy. There was nowhere on earth the boy would be able hide from him.
‘Orders, sir?’ the team leader asked.
Thorn opened his eye and looked at him. ‘Take me home. I have a job to finish.’
Acknowledgements
Writing a novel can be an adventure in its own right. There are some moments when the waters are calm, and the jungle is quiet. But other times, the jungle closes in, and the river rises, racing through rocky canyons, cascading over treacherous waterfalls. At times like those, every adventurer needs someone to throw them a rope or offer them a hand, so I’d like to take a moment to acknowledge the special people who accompanied Ash and me on this adventure.
I want to say a huge thank you to the brilliant Barry Cunningham for his advice and support, and for really loving stories. I feel proud to be a Chicken House author. Thanks to Rachel Leyshon who spent so much time patiently listening to my crazy ideas for Isla Negra, offered the right advice, and steered me in the right direction. Also to Rachel Hickman and Elinor Bagenal for so much hard work in making the book look fantastic and sending it out into the world. Thanks to my agent Carolyn for her honesty and guidance, to Bella for her priceless editorial support, and to Laura (for her patience!), Jazz, Kesia, Sarah and Esther for being awesome back at Chicken House HQ.
And, of course, I couldn’t embark on any adventure in Danworld without the lifeline of my first readers – my wife, my daughter and my son. Without them, I would have washed over that waterfall a long time ago.
And you. The reader. I want to thank you for losing yourself in my world.
ALSO BY DAN SMITH
BIG GAME by DAN SMITH
Armed only with a bow and arrow, thirteen-year-old Oskari reluctantly sets out into the freezing wilderness of his Finnish homeland as part of an ancient trial of manhood. But instead of finding animals to hunt, he stumbles on an escape pod from a burning aeroplane: Air Force One.
Terrorists have shot down the President of the United States, and they’re on their way to capture him. Even if the boy and the world’s most powerful man can evade them, how can they possibly survive in the wild?
‘Everything about this book is excellent. The story is fast-paced, extremely well written and is packed with unrelenting action.’
BOOK TRUST
Paperback, ISBN 978-1-909489-94-3, £6.99 • ebook, ISBN 978-1-909489-95-0, £6.99
MY FRIEND THE ENEMY by DAN SMITH
1941. It’s wartime and when a German plane crashes in flames near Peter’s home, he rushes over hoping to find something exciting to keep.
But what he finds instead is an injured young airman. He needs help, but can either of them trust the enemy?
‘. . . an exciting, thought-provoking book.’
THE BOOKSELLER
Paperback, ISBN 978-1-908435-81-1, £6.99 • ebook, ISBN 978-1-909489-06-6, £6.99
MY BROTHER’S SECRET by DAN SMITH
Twelve-year-old Karl is a good German boy. He wants his country to win the war – after all, his father has gone away to fight. But when tragedy strikes and his older brother Stefan gets into trouble, he begins to lose his faith in Hitler. Before long, he’s caught up in a deadly rebellion.
‘Rich in detail, this is a thought-provoking story.’
JULIA ECCLESHARE
Paperback, ISBN 978-1-909489-03-5, £6.99 • ebook, ISBN 978-1-909489-54-7, £6.99
Text © Dan Smith 2016
First paperback edition published in Great Britain in 2016
This electronic edition published in 2016
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