Sharp Shot

by Jack Higgins

  “No. You couldn’t hide it from us. You’re not clever enough, for that—not for anything more than blowing up little kids and old women. We searched every inch of that base, and it wasn’t there. So where was it? Hospital? School? Bus station?”

  “On the base,” insisted Darrow. “In one of the hangers. You’ll know soon enough.”

  “No we won’t, because we searched the hangers. It was in the school, wasn’t it? The nursery school three blocks from the base.”

  “In the hanger.”

  “Liar!” The Professor pulled out a handgun and trained it on Darrow, his hand shaking. “You’ll die a liar and a coward.”

  “It was in the hanger, where you’d never find it.”

  The shot ripped into the marble floor close to Darrow’s head. “We’d have found it!”

  “Not inside the engine housing of a B-2 Stealth Bomber, you wouldn’t!”

  The Professor froze, suddenly incredibly calm. “No,” he said quietly. “We probably wouldn’t.” He turned to Chance. “I reckon that was about two minutes, don’t you?”

  “Not bad,” agreed Chance.

  Darrow stared up at them, the confusion on his face gradually giving way to fury. He leaped to his feet and hurled himself at the Professor.

  The Professor didn’t move or blink. He just let the SAS man from the doorway hammer his shoulder into Darrow and send him sprawling.

  “You know,” said the Professor. “I did worry you might realise about the EMP. But it seems you’re not as good as we feared after all. A bit pathetic really.” Then he turned away, and he and Chance left the room.

  Ardman put down his phone. “Chuck White has passed that on to the Nuclear Containment Team. So, problem solved—hopefully.”

  “We still need to round up Crown Prince Ali and his cohorts,” said Halford.

  “Shouldn’t be too tricky now their plan has failed. And King Hassan will have the evidence he needs to move openly against them. Prince Ali can’t play the popularity card after it gets out that he was willing to murder thousands of his own people. I imagine his military support is already evaporating.”

  The Professor and John Chance arrived, obviously pleased with how things had gone.

  “I wasn’t sure he would tell us,” admitted Chance, “but the news footage was pretty convincing.”

  “Oh, Mike knows his stuff. Even in a hurry, he’s the best.”

  “Who is this Mike guy?” asked Jade.

  “He works in the film industry,” the Professor explained. “Film and TV, actually. He has a small company that does special effects. They make models, fly spaceships, recreate historic events and natural disasters, blow things up—as you saw. That was a combination of video footage, of the real airbase and city, with some computer animation and digital painting for the damaged buildings added and a film of a controlled explosion Mike arranged. A much smaller explosion than it looked, obviously, but when it’s combined with the other visual elements, then degraded to look like it was shot on a mobile phone…Combine that with shaking the room and knocking a bit of plaster off the walls and ceiling and, well, the effect is quite startling.”

  “It convinced me,” Rich agreed. “And I knew it was all a fake.”

  “We did worry he’d work it out,” said Chance.

  “EMP,” said Rich.

  The Professor smiled. “Exactly.”

  He and Chance went to talk to Ardman, leaving Jade and Rich alone at the back of the lab.

  “So what’s this EMP thing?” Jade asked Rich.

  “I didn’t realise before. It’s an Electro-Magnetic Pulse. When a nuclear bomb goes off, it knocks out all the electronic equipment in the area.”

  Jade nodded. “So the news camera and mobile phone shouldn’t have been working.”

  “That’s right.”

  “Lucky Darrow didn’t spot that.”

  “Lucky should be our middle name,” said Rich. As he spoke, he glanced at the main screen set up on one of the lab workbenches.

  “What is it?” Jade asked, seeing his expression. She turned to look.

  The screen was still showing the room where their father had interrogated Darrow, and where the SAS man should have been keeping Darrow under guard. The heavy door was locked from the outside, so even if Darrow somehow managed to immobilise the guard there was absolutely no way he could get out.

  Until now.

  “Oh my God,” said Rich. “Not so lucky.”

  He and Jade ran for the door, shouting urgently to Chance.

  Darrow was beaten. He knew there was no way he could hope to overpower the guard, and that even if he did he couldn’t go anywhere. He could try to shoot out the lock on the door, but there would be other guards outside. His choice was between going out in a blaze of glory, or waiting to see what justice had to offer.

  Maybe he could force them to repatriate him to Britain and serve a prison sentence there. But more likely the Americans would want him and he would disappear for ever into some prison camp that didn’t officially exist. But even that was preferable to facing trial—or not facing trial—in East Araby.

  Then fate played its hand, and suddenly Darrow’s options were very different.

  The floor was covered with heavy, marble tiles. Crown Prince Ali had demanded nothing but the very best from his builders. The floor was specially reinforced so it could take the tremendous weight of the marble.

  But that was before the Professor’s team had blown out some of the joists to make the room shake as if caught at the edge of a nuclear blast.

  The first clue Darrow had that something was wrong was when the floor shifted slightly under his feet. He glanced at the SAS man standing by the door. Close to the wall, the effect was less noticeable and the guard just stared back at Darrow.

  Trying to look casual, Darrow slumped down as heavily as he could in the nearest chair. Again he felt the floor move. More marked now, the guard seemed to have realised something was amiss. Darrow knew he had to act quickly.

  He jumped to his feet, making a point of stretching and groaning as if sore from his exertions. He then leaned forward and rested his hands on the edge of the heavy wooden desk. It rocked slightly as he put his weight on it, one of the legs having been blown off earlier.

  Then, with an almighty effort, Darrow gripped the side of the desk and heaved. The desk lifted, turned, toppled, and Darrow leaped backwards. The guard gave a shout of surprise and stepped forward.

  But it was too late. The weight of the desk hitting the weakened floor was enough to break through the remaining, damaged floor supports. The centre of the room collapsed. Marble tiles slid and fell. The desk crashed through to the room below leaving a ragged hole.

  The guard staggered forwards, off balance as the floor tilted and bucked. Darrow paused only to kick viciously at the man and knock him down. Then, grabbing the guard’s assault rifle, he leaped into the hole left by the desk.

  Moments later, the door crashed open and Chance ran in. He skidded to a halt, almost losing his balance on the broken floor. Rich and Jade were close behind him. Chance held out his arms to keep them back, as a burst of automatic fire hammered through the hole in the floor and shattered the chandelier.

  In the room below, Darrow landed painfully on a pile of rubble. His ankle twisted under him, but he ignored the pain. He let off a burst of gunfire in case the guard had recovered and was trying to follow him. Then he hurried to the door, out into the corridor, and he was running for the stairs, ignoring the pain in his ankle. He knew the layout of the desert palace from several visits, and he knew the only ways out were the airstrip —too far away—and the helicopter pad on the roof.

  Whatever Chance and Ardman and their colleagues thought, Darrow still had a job to do…

  20

  The limousine was cool and quiet. After the frantic activity of the previous day, Rich was glad of the calm. He sat beside Dex, facing Jade and Chance.

  The elation at having found—and made safe—the nu
clear bomb was tinged with annoyance that Darrow had managed to get away. But Rich was determined that he wasn’t going to let that get him down. Let Darrow fly off into the sunset in his stolen helicopter. Dad said he was a survivor, and that he’d steer well clear of them and keep his head down from now on. Not least as Crown Prince Ali and his supporters would also be looking for Darrow after he’d let them down.

  It was strange, but Rich was more nervous about what lay ahead than he had been about anything else. He felt uncomfortable and out of place in the smart white suit Ardman had arranged. It didn’t help that his father and Halford both looked completely at ease in theirs, as if being invited to meet a king and a president were business as usual for them.

  He guessed Jade must be nervous, but she didn’t show it. She looked stunning in a pale blue dress that ended below her knees.

  Ardman had laughed when Rich asked if he was invited. “How can I be invited?” he had said. “I don’t exist.” More seriously, he’d pointed out that it was essential that no one know what had happened. If other security forces spotted him at a reception with King Hassan and the US President, they might well guess that there had been a problem. At this key moment—the week before the elections—King Hassan wanted no hint of anything awry.

  “So how come Dad’s going?” Jade had asked.

  “Oh, we’re old friends, the President and me,” replied Chance. Neither Rich nor Jade could tell if he was joking.

  The limo pulled into the gates of the King’s impressive Pearl Palace. They waited while heavily armed soldiers checked the driver’s papers. Rich turned to look out of the window. Even through the darkened glass, he could see that the huge palace walls almost glowed in the sunlight, which was how it had got its name. High towers rose above the main palace.

  They were escorted through a huge hallway lined with statues and vases filled with impressive arrangements of flowers, and out into a central courtyard. A fountain stood in the middle of a large ornamental pond. Small trees round the pond gave welcome shade. At one end of the courtyard was a covered area over a dais with a red carpet.

  “Guess that’s where it all happens, then,” said Rich. He had managed to get a disposable camera from the reception at their hotel. “Think they’ll let me take some pictures?” He took out the camera and lined up the podium through the view finder.

  “No,” said Chance. He lifted the camera from Rich’s grasp and put it in his own jacket pocket. “I don’t.”

  Rich sniffed with annoyance. “They can’t stop me eating peppermints though, can they?” He had a tube of mints in his other pocket and offered them round.

  Halford laughed and accepted one. Chance shook his head sadly.

  Jade glared. “Honestly!”

  “What?” asked Rich, popping a mint in his mouth. “This girl I met on a roller coaster had some, they’re good. You should try one.”

  “Sometimes I cannot believe you are my brother.” Jade took the tube of mints from him and stuffed them into her small clutch bag.

  “At least I’m looking smart,” Rich told her. He braced himself for a punch, but Jade smiled.

  “You reckon?” she said.

  There were other guests already in the large courtyard, and more were arriving all the time. Waiters with trays of orange juice and sparkling water moved among the gathering crowd.

  Rich recognised a broad-shouldered man in a dark suit wearing sunglasses and pointed him out. “Look, there’s Chuck White. Offer him one of those mints, Jade, he likes them.”

  Jade rolled her eyes.

  Halford went over to talk briefly to the Secret Service man. Rich looked round for Kate Hunter, but he couldn’t see her. Maybe she was with the President and King Hassan, wherever they were.

  “Hey,” said Jade, pointing across to the other side of the pond, “that’s Crown Prince Ali. What’s he doing here?”

  “Not sure he’s here through choice,” said Chance. “Notice how those two men are standing very close to him?”

  “That’s right,” said Halford, rejoining them. “He’s effectively under arrest, but King Hassan doesn’t want to announce it until after the elections. Thinks it might look like he’s trying to influence the outcome or subdue opposition. The President agrees, so Chuck tells me. They want it all smooth as a baby’s bottom.”

  “Let’s hope they’re careful,” said Chance. “They might be smooth, but babies’ bottoms can do some rather unpleasant things.”

  “I still don’t really get how it was supposed to work,” admitted Rich, sipping at his orange juice. “I mean, surely blowing up half the capital would just make people want elections more, not less.”

  “I think Price Ali was planning that the military would then take over and he’d be able to assume control.”

  “So what was to stop King Hassan just going on TV and telling everyone what really happened?” Jade asked. “Once their plot was discovered, why didn’t they just back off? Or don’t the people trust their King?”

  “Oh, they love him,” said Halford. “That’s why he can get away with the US connection, and have elections without fear of other states in the area getting upset with him. My guess is that they were hoping King Hassan would be killed in the blast.”

  “Makes sense,” Chance agreed. “In fact, for their plan to be sure of success, Crown Prince Ali would have had to be in control. With Hassan dead, he’d become king. It’s lucky they needed the nuclear explosion as an excuse to cut their ties with the US, or else they could just have assassinated the King. But enough of all that. We’re here to enjoy ourselves, right?”

  “Right!” agreed Jade.

  In among the dignitaries and the diplomats, the rich and the influential, Rich thought that Jade looked at home. They really should be making the most of it, he thought. They were about to meet the US President. It was a glorious, sunny day, but somehow, something wasn’t right. He could feel it. He could almost, but not quite, tell what it was.

  “What’s wrong?” asked Jade, seeing Rich’s perplexed expression.

  “I don’t know. Nothing. King Hassan was here yesterday, wasn’t he? Ready to meet the President.”

  “That’s right,” agreed Halford. “The President came here straight from the air field, as soon as he arrived.”

  “But this palace is right over the other side of the capital,” Rich realised. “There’s no way the blast would have killed King Hassan.”

  “So?” asked Jade. Then she realised. “But they needed the King dead. We just said that.”

  Halford was looking over towards the dais. “Here comes the King now, and the President.”

  “Then you’d better find your friend Chuck,” Chance told him. “Because Jade’s right. They must have planned an assassination as well. Then Ali could cancel the elections and throw out the Americans; Hassan never would—even with the blast.”

  “You don’t think…?” Halford’s voice tailed off.

  “And now the bomb plot has failed, they’ll need a very public, high-profile disaster instead. One that involves the Americans too. Something that can be blamed on them, at least superficially.”

  “Like what?” asked Rich. But really, he already knew.

  “Like King Hassan being caught in the crossfire when the American President is assassinated.”

  Halford was hurrying towards the dais, but everyone else was moving that way too. The President and the King were shaking hands with people, laughing and joking, making their way slowly towards the podium to giver their speeches—two leaders expressing mutual support and admiration.

  John Chance turned and hurried the other way.

  Jade and Rich were immediately after him. “Where are we going?” asked Jade.

  “If there’s a bomb, then we have to leave it to Halford to get Chuck White’s team on the case. If they see us searching, or trying to get people out, they’ll detonate anyway. But if there’s a sniper, which is more likely given the security here, then we have to find him quick.”

/>   Chance paused in an archway that led back into the main palace. “You get back to the reception. Play along, behave like nothing’s wrong.”

  “And where are you going?” demanded Rich.

  “If I were taking the shot, I’d be at the top of that.” He pointed up at the tall tower above them.

  “We’re coming with you,” said Jade.

  “No time to argue about it,” Rich told him.

  Their father glared at them for moment, then turned and hurried into the palace.

  There was a soldier standing at the bottom of a narrow flight of steps that led up the tower. He looked like an officer, in flat cap with a gun holstered at his side.

  “Secret Service,” Chance announced. “Just got to check up the tower.”

  The soldier nodded and stepped aside.

  Then, suddenly, he drew the handgun from his holster and levelled it at Chance.

  “Guess that confirms it, then,” said Chance. “You go for help,” he added, turning to Jade and Rich.

  The soldier glanced at them too. He didn’t take his eyes off Chance for more than a split second, but when he looked back, it was in time to see Chance’s fist smash into his face. He collapsed silently to the ground. Chance took the gun from the soldier’s hand and checked it was loaded.

  “Well, go on,” he said, before turning and running up the stairs.

  “You go,” said Jade to Rich. “I’m following Dad.”

  “No—you go,” insisted Rich. “You’re quicker, remember.”

  She sighed. “In this dress? Get real.” Then she turned, and hurried up the steps after her father.

  Rich shook his head in disbelief before running back to the courtyard.

  By the time Jade arrived, it was almost over. One soldier was lying unconscious on the small roof of the tower. Her father was just punching another one hard in the stomach. The soldier doubled over, and Chance’s knee crashed into his face.

  A third soldier grabbed Chance from behind. Jade shouted a warning, but just too late. Chance tried to raise his handgun to fire a shot to warn the Secret Service in the courtyard below, but the soldier knocked the gun away. It skidded across the ground.