Strike of the Shark

by Bear Grylls

  ‘And nothing,’ James said sharply. It was a bark of command. He might have been full of doubts, but there was one thing he knew: no one was going to attack his mother. ‘There’s two of us, Captain, and you might be bigger than both of us, but we have . . .’ He seemed to be casting around for the right word.

  ‘“Skills” is the word James is looking for,’ Abby said. Her light-hearted, casual tone had turned into something as cold as ice and hard as steel. ‘Self-defence skills. Without going into details, let’s just say that men do not attack me and live to tell the tale.’

  Slowly, very slowly, Farrell subsided.

  ‘Now, where was I? Oh yes, the plan.’ Abby’s bright, chatty side made an abrupt reappearance. ‘By the time we were through with your memory, Beck, you wouldn’t have been a tragic loss. More like “good riddance”. Everyone would say you had it coming. And we would have tarred your dear Uncle Al with the same brush . . . make sure people were asking why he had allowed a fourteen-year-old to get into such dangerous situations . . . And so on. He would have been destroyed too. In short, a clear win all round.’

  Beck started to laugh. He couldn’t help himself. Fear. Anger. Nerves. Shock.

  Now it was Abby’s turn to stare.

  ‘What is so funny?’

  ‘Lumos!’ Beck’s shoulders shook. ‘Lumos strikes again. You just can’t do it properly. I don’t know what the plan was, but I bet it didn’t involve you ending up shipwrecked along with the rest of us. You want to know how I can keep interfering with your sick little plans? It’s because they’re always so rubbish! You say I cost you a uranium mine? No, you cost that yourselves! First, you didn’t spend enough money in the first place to keep the containment tanks secure. Then you hired a couple of amateurs to try and kill me. You’ll spend a pound to save a penny, won’t you? You could spend a bit more and keep everyone happy, including yourselves. You could get rich and use all your technology to help people . . . But no. No, no, no. You wouldn’t be rich enough. So you spend as little as you can, and it goes wrong.’

  ‘Shut up, you little brat. You know nothing about business.’

  ‘Go on.’ Beck waved his hand airily. He met her hostile glare with the broadest, friendliest smile he could produce. ‘Go on. Tell me what was supposed to happen and what went wrong.’

  CHAPTER 34

  Abby kept glaring.

  Beck’s opinion of Lumos couldn’t sink any lower, after all, and the fact was, the plan had gone wrong. He was better than his enemies, in so many ways.

  ‘I’ll tell it all, Beck, because it doesn’t matter. You are about to die anyway.’ She stared at him.

  ‘I hired Steven Holbrook – he knew nothing, of course – and I used his connection with your uncle to get you onto this trip,’ said Abby. ‘Yes, the ship was an old Lumos vessel – it used to be the executive yacht for the management team, many years ago.’

  So, Beck thought, that explained its ramshackle appearance. An old ship, done up with the minimum outlay – typical Lumos.

  ‘And all the crew were your people?’

  ‘Not all,’ Farrell snapped. He hadn’t stopped glaring at Abby. If human eyes were lasers, then Abby’s head would have exploded a long time ago.

  ‘No, not all,’ she agreed. ‘We needed a proper captain, of course, so we hired a down-and-out old sailor – he was unemployable because he managed to lose his last ship in a typhoon by ignoring the weather reports. So obviously, when I offered him a job, he jumped at the chance without enquiring into it too closely.’

  Farrell’s eyes narrowed to tiny slits of hate and anger. He ground out his words through clenched teeth. ‘And, of course, having already lost one ship through carelessness, the fact that I was in command of this ship would just add credibility to the story when it hit the press?’

  ‘Well, naturally. And I came along because – well, believe it or not, Beck, you were right about our hiring amateurs. That is one of the key reasons our Australian venture failed. I’ve always known that if you want a job done properly, then it is best done yourself. I was going to oversee this personally. When we were all up on the bridge, I put a virus into the ship’s systems—’

  ‘How?’ Farrell demanded.

  ‘It’s—’ James began, but his mother interrupted.

  ‘Oh, come, Captain, let a girl keep some secrets.’

  ‘Why didn’t you abandon ship at the same time as the crew?’ Beck asked. ‘Why were you still there when the bomb went off?’

  Abby paused and pulled a face. Beck wondered if this was the point where the plan had gone wrong.

  ‘We would have set it off by remote control once we were in the boat and clear of the ship. Except for Steven. Ah, dear Steven. The man had no idea, no idea at all. He confronted us. He had worked out that something was up. He was snooping around and worked out that there weren’t really any luxury facilities behind all those locked doors on the ship. I expect he was going to bring it up in the morning, except that he bumped into us on our way to the boat and overheard . . . Well, never mind what he overheard, but he learned he was in way over his head. But he still confronted us. There was . . . let’s say, a scuffle, in which James and I were forced to use the skills he was careful to mention just now. But not before Steven tried to grab the remote control – and that was when the bomb went off.’

  ‘And so we all abandoned ship, and it sank,’ Farrell said. He still hadn’t quite unclamped his jaw. ‘And your friends never came back for you.’

  Abby looked distinctly annoyed. ‘Because Steven distracted me, I forgot my bag. My phone was in it.’ Beck remembered that too – her sudden insistence that she had to go back for it, just as the ship was going down. ‘They had no way of tracking us. And so we were lumbered with you.’

  ‘And suddenly it became important to keep me alive,’ Beck said dryly.

  ‘Well, you are the expert.’ She gave him a forced fake smile.

  Farrell exploded in rage. ‘You sick, twisted, lowlife . . .’ He trailed off, running out of words. Then he rallied. ‘Murderous . . .’ Another lapse into silence. Abby kept her face impassive. ‘We were going to drown like rats just so you could . . . could . . . And Steven? You killed him too, didn’t you?’

  ‘Obviously. And planted enough information on him to ensure that we would launch off towards Island Alpha. Fortunately I had that memo on me. I had no intention of sitting rotting on that tiny rock we found ourselves on.’

  Beck threw his hands in the air. ‘And so – typical Lumos – it still goes wrong, and here we are.’

  ‘Speak for yourself,’ Abby said. ‘I’m about to be rescued.’

  Her hand came out of the water, holding the flare that had been in her pocket. Beck prepared to throw himself aside, because for one moment he thought she actually intended to shoot him with it. But she aimed it above her head and pulled on the tab. There was a bang like a gunshot, and the flare soared up into the air. High above their heads it burst into white flame.

  CHAPTER 35

  ‘What—?’ Beck began. And then he realized that he could hear rotor blades. In fact, he had been hearing them for some time. He had just been so distracted by Abby’s story that he hadn’t registered the helicopter that she had obviously spotted on the horizon. Some survivor you are! he snapped at himself.

  ‘Lumos will have been looking for me ever since I failed to check in yesterday. I’m far too valuable an asset for them to let me perish so easily,’ Abby said calmly. ‘And James, of course,’ she added as an afterthought.

  The helicopter was only a small dot on the horizon, but it soon grew larger. All eyes stayed on it, and no one spoke as it roared towards them. It circled around while the crew had a good look down at them. It was a big model, something like a Sea King, painted bright yellow.

  Squinting up against the sun, Beck could just see the word LUMOS painted on its belly.

  His heart sank. For a moment he’d hoped that it was from one of the search-and-rescue organizations. No such luc
k.

  It slowed and hovered ten metres above them, like a giant metal dragonfly. The roar of its engine made any speech impossible. The downdraught from its rotors flattened the sea around them. Then the figure of a man appeared from its side, dangling from a winch. He looked like a slimmed-down spaceman, in helmet and drysuit. He was lowered towards them, spinning around slowly until his legs reached the water. He gestured towards James.

  James gave Beck and Farrell a final glance. His face was like a death mask. Every human emotion had been pushed down deep inside where it needn’t bother him again.

  ‘Thanks for saving my life,’ he said simply.

  ‘Don’t keep the man waiting, sweetheart,’ Abby chided.

  He ignored her. ‘It’s the ring . . .’ James spoke clearly. Beck looked at him blankly. ‘She used the ring to sabotage the ship.’ Abby stared at her son, but he met her glare. ‘Oh, come on, Mum, what does it matter? The ring’s a Bluetooth microcomputer. That’s how she transferred the virus. Just so you know.’

  And then he pushed himself away from the boat and quickly splashed his way towards the man, who helped him get his arms and shoulders through a large loop that hung from the bottom of the line.

  Farrell and Beck exchanged glances. Beck felt the frustration tear at him – just having to sit there while the others were rescued. But what could they do? They were in no position to take over a helicopter.

  ‘Sir!’ Farrell shouted. It was a forlorn hope, Beck thought, but it was worth trying. ‘You have to help us! This woman is a criminal! You can’t just leave us here!’

  The man merely glanced over at him, then looked up at the hovering machine and jerked a thumb up. He and James rose smoothly out of the water. James was pulled into the cabin, and seconds later the man was back. Now Abby swam over to him.

  ‘Give my regards to the sharks!’ she called. There was a huge smile on her face as she was lifted up.

  Sick at heart, Beck watched her disappear into the cabin. All the fears and worries he had felt when the boat sank beneath them came flooding back. Never say die? Who was he kidding? They had squeezed a few more hours of life out of the ocean, that was all.

  He and Farrell could make their water last a bit longer, now that there were only two of them. But they had the rest of the day ahead, and then, at night time, the sharks would come.

  A storm was on its way, which would churn up the sea and send thousands of tons of water crashing down on them. They would drown . . . if the sharks hadn’t eaten them first. And the worst of it was, the helicopter would no doubt report that it had rescued all the survivors from the Sea Cloud. The search would be called off. No one would come for them.

  Sudden tears pricked his eyes – not just for himself, but for James. What chance had that boy ever had? Following his mother around the world and holding her bags while she killed people . . . How could he ever have hoped to learn right from wrong?

  ‘Beck? Beck!’ Farrell had to call his name a couple of times to get his attention. It dawned on Beck that the helicopter hadn’t moved. It was still hovering over them. He looked up with a sudden surge of hope.

  The man was coming down towards them again.

  CHAPTER 36

  ‘This is not acceptable!’

  The first thing Beck heard as he was hauled into the cabin was Abby’s voice: she was raging at the man in charge of the winch.

  The cabin was bare and functional. James had taken one of the few seats. He and Abby had silver thermal blankets draped over their shoulders. James had pulled his tight around himself and was staring at the floor. He very carefully didn’t meet Beck’s eye. Through the cockpit door, Beck could see the back of the pilot’s head as he sat at the controls. He was peering out of the window as he kept the helicopter hovering in the same position.

  The winch man was unapologetic. ‘Orders of your father, ma’am. All survivors were to be rescued.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘He said he will be attending to them personally, ma’am, once he arrives on Island Alpha. Over there.’

  These last words were aimed at Beck, and accompanied by a shove in his back. The man pushed him towards the rear of the cabin. It was a large space, for carrying cargo rather than people. Beck hunkered down on the metal floor, hugging his knees, and watched as the man pressed buttons to lower his colleague to retrieve Captain Farrell.

  ‘Attending to them personally?’ Abby scowled, hands on hips, and for just a moment Beck wondered if he’d caught a glimpse of fear. Was her father the kind of guy who went easy on people who failed in their tasks? He was prepared to bet he wasn’t – even when it was his own daughter. Maybe Abby was in for more than just a ticking-off.

  But if there was fear, it was only a flash. Abby threw a cold smile at Beck. ‘Very well,’ she said.

  He shivered, and it wasn’t because he didn’t have a thermal blanket. Whatever she was in for, he was in for worse.

  Farrell was pulled aboard and the winch man slid the door shut. He shouted something into a microphone, and the pilot nodded back at him in acknowledgement. The floor tilted and the helicopter started to move again. Beck felt his ears pop as they rose higher and the engine noise settled down to a loud, steady drone.

  Farrell had squatted down next to Beck.

  Beck put his mouth close to the captain’s ear. ‘Her father wants to attend to us personally.’

  His mouth tightened into a grim line. ‘Not if I can strangle him first!’

  The flight took nearly an hour. There was nothing to do except sit there. Abby spent much of the time speaking on a phone produced by one of the crew, or sitting talking to James. Or maybe she was talking at him. She looked excited, her gestures emphatic. James just sat and stared at the floor, sometimes muttering a one-word response.

  It was a rough ride: the massive engine above them made the whole frame shake. Sitting on the metal floor meant that the vibrations travelled up Beck’s spine. It was far from comfortable. Even so, he couldn’t help noticing that as they flew on, the ride grew even rougher. At first the cabin just rocked a little; he put it down to air currents – it was only every few minutes. But then it began to happen more frequently, and the rocking grew stronger.

  Finally Abby stood up and made her way to the rear of the cabin. Suddenly the helicopter gave a great lurch, and she clutched at the ceiling for support.

  ‘Five minutes to Island Alpha,’ she said. The helicopter shuddered again, almost as if it had hit something. ‘Should be there just in time for the hurricane,’ she added.

  Beck and Farrell exchanged glances. What with the other things on his mind, Beck had actually forgotten about it. Abby actually sounded as if she was looking forward to it.

  The helicopter tilted, but this time it was circling, coming in to land.

  Abby pointed out of the side window. ‘And there it is. Take a good look.’

  Beck glanced casually out of the window, not that interested in an island he might never be leaving. Then he looked again, surprised.

  Island Alpha wasn’t an island. It was a giant drilling rig. Four giant metal pillars rose up out of the water like small skyscrapers. At the top was an impossible collection of girders and platforms and cabins, clinging together in a way that seemed to defy gravity. The helicopter landing platform jutted out from the side, fifty metres above the water – a large metal slab marked with the letter ‘H’.

  The paper that Abby had planted on Steven had talked about experimental drilling for methane hydrate. This must be where Lumos was doing its work.

  ‘Wait!’ Beck protested. ‘We’re going to be on a rig in a hurricane? That’s suicide!’

  ‘You evacuate rigs before a hurricane hits,’ Farrell put in. ‘You don’t stay on them!’

  Abby gave another of her wintry smiles. ‘Relax, boys. This is the most modern, up-to-date rig in existence. The only one of its kind. It’s been rated for weather conditions much worse than a hurricane. We won’t even notice.’

  Beck studied
the rig again. It looked pretty solid, but he knew that meant nothing when you were talking about something floating around in a hurricane. He also had very little confidence in Lumos and the money they were likely to have spent on the construction. His eyes fixed on a row of bright orange lifepods that hung from the bottom of the rig. They were a much better prospect than the Sea Cloud’s lifeboat. They were watertight, plastic shells, completely enclosed. They would be weatherproof and almost unsinkable. If they could get to one of those . . .

  The scene disappeared from view as the helicopter turned to face the rig, coming in on its final approach. The engine roared louder as it tilted and slowed. Then it touched down on the metal platform.

  The winch man tugged the side door open. Warm air blew in with such force that Beck was almost knocked off his feet. It was so humid and soaked in moisture that it was like breathing underwater. Billowing clouds as black as a funeral shroud hung low over the rig; it looked like you could just reach out and touch them.

  The hurricane was very close indeed.

  Abby and James jumped out and hurried away. Beck got down more slowly and looked around. The platform was a strong metal grille supported from below. Through the regular pattern of holes he could see the sea washing against the legs of the rig, fifty metres down.

  A man was then suddenly holding his arm in a grip like steel. He and Farrell were led past the pilot, who was having a shouted conversation with the head of the landing crew.

  ‘Get her refuelled. I want to be back on the mainland when the hurricane hits.’

  ‘We can put her in the hangar. You’ll be safe.’

  ‘Speak for yourself! I want her filled up and then I’m out of here!’

  Beck and Farrell were pulled towards a tall metal door in the superstructure. There was a red light above it. One of their captors swiped a security dongle past a small sensor on the wall and the light beeped to green. Then they were inside.