Bodyguard: Ransom (Book 2)

by Bradford, Chris

  Connor yawned and looked at his watch – 05:30.

  Zipping up his jacket to fend off the chill sea breeze, he paced the top deck. Through the night-vision lenses of his sunglasses, the stars appeared over-bright in the sky, like theatre spotlights, and the sea shimmered as if awash with mercury.

  Raising the binoculars to his eyes, he performed another sweep of the horizon. So far the only other vessels he’d sighted were a fishing trawler and the long, low profile of an oil tanker. Both had glided by in distant silence, no more than ghosts in the night.

  Connor stifled another yawn. His lookout duty was progressing with painful slowness. He couldn’t believe that he still had another two and a half hours to go, but at least the sun would soon be up. The faintest of glows was now visible to the east, pushing back the curtain of night.

  As he completed his sweep, his eye caught a glint of something directly to the Orchid’s stern. Adjusting the focus on his binoculars, he zoomed in on the point near the horizon, but the roll of the yacht made it hard to keep the image steady.

  Was that a boat? A wave? Or a whale breaching?

  He’d spotted a small pod of humpback whales within the first ten minutes of his watch. The spray from their blowholes had looked like fountains of silver through his night-vision lenses. It was his first encounter with these magnificent creatures and he’d been spellbound by their appearance. Then the whales had dived deep and he’d lost them among the waves.

  It seemed this was the case again. He scanned the ocean once more but saw nothing. Then his attention was grabbed by a flashing light on the main deck below. He leant over the rail, but couldn’t detect the source.

  Descending two flights of steps, he made his way to the starboard side and discovered Emily standing beside the rail.

  ‘Morning,’ he said.

  She snapped her head round in surprise, but quickly recovered and greeted him with a wry smile. ‘Only just,’ she replied.

  ‘Did you see a flashing light?’

  Emily shook her head. ‘Perhaps it was the salon as I walked through?’

  Connor frowned. ‘Possibly, but the beam seemed more focused than that.’ He looked up and down the deck, but all was dark.

  Emily stared at him, then waved a hand in front of his face. ‘Can you even see? Why are you wearing sunglasses at night?’

  ‘Oh, these.’ Connor flipped them back off his head. He wasn’t sure if Amir wanted the secrets of his gear revealed, so replied, ‘They’re part of the standard-issue Buddyguard uniform. Sometimes I forget I’m wearing them.’

  ‘Well, you’re missing out on the sunrise,’ said Emily, turning to the rail and admiring the expanding halo of red fire on the horizon.

  Connor joined her. ‘Is that why you’re up so early?’

  ‘Not really. I was finding it hard to sleep.’ She glanced timidly at him. ‘Nightmares.’

  Connor nodded, but didn’t press any further. He could only imagine what horrors she dreamt of following her kidnap ordeal.

  The sun continued its ascent, heralding another glorious day at sea.

  ‘I’m feeling a little peckish,’ Emily announced. ‘Chef usually leaves some snacks in the galley. Can I get you anything?’

  Having risen so early, Connor suddenly realized that he was ravenous. ‘That would be great. I’d kill for an orange juice and a piece of toast.’

  ‘No need to go that far!’ Emily laughed. ‘I’ll see what I can find.’

  She headed inside, leaving Connor alone with the sunrise. Its first golden rays graced the ocean, streaking the tops of the waves a deep molten orange. Lulled by the view, Connor drifted into Code White, but it was only a matter of seconds before he was snapped back to full alert by a muffled shriek from the direction of the galley.

  ‘That’s our signal,’ said Spearhead.

  The sun had yet to make its mark in the dawn sky, so his keen eyes spotted the far-off flashing light with little problem. He raised his assault rifle in the air to alert the rest of the gang.

  The pirates in the other skiffs pulled aside the nets covering their weapons. AK47s were ripped from their plastic wrappings and magazines rammed home. The harsh click and clack of rifles being primed and loaded punctured the air above the growl of outboard motors.

  After several days of enforced idleness, there was an urgency to the pirates’ actions, all the men eager to sink their teeth into some violence.

  Big Mouth prised open the wooden box containing his RPG. Loading a rocket into the launcher, he lifted it to his lips and kissed the tip.

  ‘Time for some action, baby,’ he said, resting the mighty weapon in his lap.

  Spearhead checked his AK47 one final time, ensuring the action was smooth. He didn’t want any jams during the assault. He’d known of too many incidents when saltwater had corroded older weapons and left a pirate high and dry in the middle of an attack.

  Twirling his finger in the air and pointing ahead, Spearhead signalled for the hijack to commence.

  The powerful outboards roared and the skiffs accelerated away, charging through the waves like a pack of killer whales in pursuit of their prey.

  ‘There’s someone in there,’ whispered Emily, standing outside the door to the galley.

  Connor had moved like lightning on hearing her cry. He was relieved to find her unharmed. ‘One of the crew?’

  Emily shook her head. ‘I don’t think so.’ Her hands were trembling. ‘It happened so quickly – a flash out of the corner of my eye as I opened the door – but I definitely saw someone.’

  Not wishing to raise a false alarm, Connor decided to investigate for himself.

  ‘Stay here,’ he said. Twisting the handle, he pushed open the door with his shoulder, keeping his hands free in case he needed to defend himself.

  The galley was in darkness. He reached in and flicked a switch. The spotlights blinked on and a sleek white kitchen shone in the bright glare. The gleaming marble worktop was clear, save for a set of chef’s knives stowed in one corner, a stainless-steel toaster, an espresso machine and a large bowl of fruit.

  Connor poked his head round the door, but there was no one there.

  ‘Perhaps you imagined it?’ he said, stepping inside the spacious galley and giving it the once-over.

  Emily followed a hesitant step behind him. ‘I’m sure I saw something move. Do you think it might have been a … rat?’

  Connor laughed. ‘On this yacht? It must have high-class tastes.’

  He went over and opened the stainless-steel fridge. The chef had left a tantalizing array of midnight snacks – sandwiches, fresh pineapple, cheeses and luxury chocolates. A jug of fresh orange juice had also been prepared. Connor took them out and placed them on the serving bar.

  ‘Someone’s already had a go at these,’ he remarked as Emily fetched a couple of plates and glasses from an overhead cabinet.

  ‘Must be my sister. I know she’s a secret snacker. She always denies it –’

  Connor held up his hand, silencing her. On the floor outside the door to the walk-in freezer lay half a sandwich. Whoever had been helping themselves to a midnight feast had been in a hurry.

  His sixth sense started twitching again.

  Sliding out a chef’s knife from its block, Connor silently approached the walk-in freezer. Emily stood motionless, a plate in her hand. Grasping the steel handle, Connor wrenched the door open.

  ‘Don’t hurt me!’ cried a pitiful voice.

  Shivering in the chill air of the freezer crouched a skinny boy, his teeth chattering, his eyes wide with fear.

  ‘Who are you?’ demanded Connor, pointing the knife at him.

  ‘Cali,’ said the boy, who wore a pair of tattered shorts and a UNICEF T-shirt. He held the other half of the sandwich in one hand and an apple in the other.

  ‘How did you get on board?’

  ‘I from Somalia.’ Cali offered a broad smile, his uneven teeth appearing pearl white against his midnight skin.

  Connor narrow
ed his eyes and took a step closer. ‘I asked you a question, now answer me.’

  The smile vanished and the boy cowered away from him.

  ‘Take it easy, Connor,’ said Emily, putting down her plate and hurrying over. ‘Can’t you see he’s terrified?’

  Connor looked at the blade in his hand, then back at the trembling boy. He supposed he was quite a fearsome sight, but he had to give a show of strength to ensure Emily’s protection. Connor gave the boy the once-over and having decided he wasn’t an immediate physical threat, lowered the knife.

  ‘Hi, I’m Emily.’ Easing past Connor, she bent down and offered her hand to the boy. ‘Don’t be scared. I’m your friend.’

  Cali hesitantly took it and stood up. His legs were scrawny, the bones more prominent than muscle, and his face hollow-cheeked. But he wore a ready smile.

  ‘Thank you, Emily,’ said the boy, still keeping a wary distance from Connor as she led him over to the serving bar.

  ‘Are you hungry?’ she asked.

  Cali nodded, his eyes already devouring the food laid out before him. Emily passed him a fresh tuna sandwich and he bit into it ravenously, chewing fast and swallowing quickly as if worried the food would be snatched away at any second.

  Connor wasn’t comfortable with accepting this stowaway so readily. Although he put the knife back in its block, he kept an eagle eye on the uninvited guest and stayed close to Emily. He judged Cali to be twelve years old, no more. His hair was a tight knit of black curls. And he noticed across his raw-boned arms a patchwork of thin pale scars like scratches, only deeper. But until Connor knew more about him he had to assume the stowaway was capable of anything.

  As the boy ate, Connor persisted with his questioning. ‘How did you get on this yacht?’

  ‘The gangway. It down in Mahé,’ Cali replied through a mouthful of sandwich.

  ‘Yesterday?’ Connor knew Brad had kept a careful watch throughout their unscheduled stopover.

  Cali shook his head. ‘No, before.’

  Connor frowned. ‘You mean, you’ve been on this yacht for over a week?’

  Cali bit into an apple with a loud crunch and nodded enthusiastically. ‘I go to South Africa.’

  ‘South Africa?’ Emily laughed. ‘But we’re on our way to the Maldives.’

  Cali furrowed his brow and studied the apple intensely before looking up. ‘Maldives near South Africa?’

  ‘No, a long way off,’ she replied as she poured Connor an orange juice. Cali chewed his lower lip in disappointment.

  ‘What made you think we were going to South Africa?’ Connor asked.

  ‘I saw South African flag on man cleaning deck,’ he replied.

  ‘Oh, you mean Jordan,’ said Emily. ‘Yes, he’s from Cape Town. And he’s always wearing that T-shirt. Very proud of his country.’

  As Emily continued chatting with Cali, Connor sat in deep thought, barely tasting the sandwich he was eating. How come none of the crew had seen this boy? He and Brad had done a full security sweep before departing. There was no way they could have missed him.

  ‘Where have you been hiding?’ Connor interrupted.

  Cali pointed beneath their feet. ‘Underneath small boat.’

  ‘Underneath? But we’ve used the tender every day.’

  ‘No, under deck.’

  Connor tried to picture the tender garage. He vaguely recalled Brad pointing out a small hatch near the locker area that led to the bilge, a sealed compartment in the lower hull where water, oil and other noxious liquids collected. Not exactly a pleasant place to hide.

  ‘How come you speak English?’ asked Emily.

  Pride lit up Cali’s eyes. ‘My father. He a teacher.’

  ‘So why are you trying to get to South Africa?’ said Connor.

  ‘No future in Somalia. No family.’

  ‘But what about your father?’

  The smile dropped from Cali’s face. ‘He dead.’

  Emily put a hand to her mouth. ‘Oh, that’s terrible! You have no one?’

  Cali’s gaze fell to the floor and he shook his head sadly.

  Knowing personally the heart-rending pain losing a father caused, Connor felt his resistance to the boy weaken. ‘What happened?’

  ‘Pirates attack his fishing boat –’

  ‘But you said he was a teacher.’

  Cali put aside the apple, seeming to have lost his appetite. ‘He was. But there no school. Too much war. So he become fisherman, like my grandfather.’

  ‘Why would the pirates attack a fisherman?’ asked Connor.

  ‘For his boat. They slit his throat. Then force me to join them. They whip me.’ Cali held up his scarred arms. ‘But coastguard catch us. I escape. Now I try get to South Africa for better life.’

  Emily looked over at Connor, her eyes glassy with tears. ‘We have to help him somehow.’

  Connor studied the Somali boy sitting beside them. He truly sympathized with the boy’s plight. His life sounded horrific and in any other circumstance he would try to help. But Connor’s first duty was to protect Emily and Chloe. And this boy was still an unknown quantity. ‘Sorry, he’s a security risk. I have to tell the captain.’

  ‘Must you?’ implored Emily.

  ‘Yes, he bloody well must,’ said Brad, entering the galley bleary-eyed with the stewardess Sophie in tow.

  ‘The consequences of having a stowaway are grave,’ said Captain Locke, eyeing Cali with as much irritation as distrust. He rubbed his bristled chin as he considered the situation.

  ‘Can’t we just drop him off in the Maldives?’ suggested Connor, who stood with Brad and Emily beside the comms station.

  Sophie entered the bridge with a cup of coffee. Nodding his thanks, the captain blew the steam from his first cup of the day, then took a sip. ‘No. As soon as this boy boarded the Orchid, he became our legal responsibility. We’ll have to arrange for him to be deported back to his country. And the cost in terms of time, money and legal fees is significant. Mr Sterling will not be pleased.’

  ‘I don’t want go back to Somalia,’ said Cali, defiantly crossing his arms.

  ‘You keep quiet,’ said the captain, jabbing a finger at him. ‘You’ve caused enough trouble as it is.’ He turned to Brad. ‘We’ll hand him over to the authorities as soon as we dock, but in the meantime confine him to a cabin for the rest of the voyage.’

  Nodding, Brad took Cali by the arm.

  ‘Please! Can’t Cali just stay on the yacht?’ said Emily, appealing to the captain. ‘I’ll ask my father to send the Orchid to South Africa after the holiday.’

  The captain shook his head. ‘That’s not how it works, Emily. If port officials discover him on board, we – as in myself and the rest of the crew – could face legal actions for allowing it.’

  ‘But he’s got no family,’ Emily pressed. ‘There’s no future for him in Somalia.’

  The captain held up his hand. ‘I’m sorry, Emily, that’s just the way it is –’

  ‘Pardon for interrupting, Captain,’ said the chief officer, ‘but I’m picking up an unidentified vessel fast approaching our stern.’

  Captain Locke rose from his chair and studied the radar screen. A green dot was traversing the monitor on a direct course for the Orchid. Then several more blips appeared, all converging rapidly on the centre. A second later, the blips were gone.

  ‘Whoever they are, they’re in our radar shadow,’ said Captain Locke. ‘Get me a visual confirmation.’

  Brad ran outside on to the upper deck, Connor close on his heels.

  The sun was now up, a burning ball in the dawn sky. They both scanned the ocean to the Orchid’s stern. Half a mile directly south, five skiffs loaded with men surged across the waves.

  ‘Five minutes to contact,’ said Brad, rushing back to the bridge. ‘Six skiffs. Pirates, by the looks of it.’

  Captain Locke put aside his coffee cup, his jaw set firm. ‘If their approach is anything to go by, they mean business. Chief Officer, full speed ahead,’ he com
manded.

  Chief Officer Fielding drove the throttle home. From deep within the bowels of the Orchid, a mighty rumble shook the super-yacht as the twin diesel engines were pushed to their max.

  The chief officer glared at Brad. ‘Who was on watch?’

  ‘I was,’ Connor replied, steadying himself as the yacht picked up speed and rode the waves.

  ‘Then where the hell were you?’

  ‘He was dealing with the stowaway,’ defended Brad.

  ‘You should never have given the responsibility of a watch to a boy –’

  ‘This isn’t the time for laying blame,’ said the captain. He picked up the yacht’s speaker mic. ‘Calling all crew. Calling all crew. This is the captain speaking. We have a Red Alert. I repeat, a Red Alert. All hands to the bridge.’

  Brad turned to Connor. ‘Get Emily and Chloe to the citadel.’

  Without needing to be told twice, Connor grabbed Emily by the arm and rushed her to the door.

  ‘What about Cali?’ she cried.

  Connor glanced back and it was only then that he noticed a torch protruding from the back pocket of the boy’s shorts. ‘He’s one of them! Cali signalled the pirates.’

  ‘Me?’ said Cali, his mouth falling open in shock. ‘N-no, not I.’

  At that moment, Geoff and the rest of the crew rushed on to the bridge.

  ‘What’s going on, Captain?’ said the engineer, frowning with concern when he saw the rev counter in the red zone. ‘The engines won’t keep this up for long.’

  ‘Pirates,’ Captain Locke explained. He turned to one of the deckhands. ‘Scott, don’t let this boy out of your sight.’

  Scott stared in bewilderment at Cali. ‘Where did he come from?’

  ‘A stowaway – and a suspect.’

  ‘They’re still gaining on us,’ announced the chief officer, nodding towards the radar where a swarm of green blips reappeared momentarily.

  Captain Locke grimaced. ‘Prepare to send a distress call.’

  ‘Come on, Emily,’ Connor urged, pulling her off the bridge. ‘We don’t have much time.’