by Jack Stroke
“Hmmph.”
Amber turned back to Betty. “And this guy, where is he from?”
“I don’t know. Around. He’s just a local chap.”
“Uh huh. And would this guy have access to your shed?”
“Why are you so interested in my damn shed?”
“Just seems a nuisance if he has to come up here and bug you every time he wants to get in.”
“No. He has his own key.”
That would make sense. More sense than Bert and his wife being drug lords. So the drug dealers were either local, or more likely they had a local contact.
“Well, those scones were about the most delicious things I have ever tasted,” Amber said.
“Thank you, dear. Would you like to take some home with you?”
Bert banged the table with both hands. “She’s not going home, Betty,” Bert said. “She is going to the police station.”
“You’re wrong. I am going home. Even if you take me to the police, they’ll let me go straight away. You have no proof I was breaking into your shed.”
“You were trespassing.”
“True. But I will just say I got lost.”
“Lost on my shed roof.”
“Look,” Amber said. “I’ve learnt my lesson, I swear. You both are such lovely people. I promise I will never steal from you.”
Bert crinkled his stern eyes.
“Besides, you’re a busy man, Bert. You don’t want to waste your time going all the way to the Port Simmons police station only for them to let me go, do you?”
“She’s right, Bert.”
Bert huffed. “You promise you won’t come back and steal from me?”
“I do.”
“Because if I see you around here again, I’ll shoot first and ask questions later. If at all.”
“Deal,” Amber said. “Seal it with a hug?”
Bert backed up, surprised by Amber’s offer. She moved quickly before he could say no. The farmer remained stiff and awkward, not enjoying their embrace one bit. Quickly Amber extracted herself, silently taking Bert’s keys ring with her.
After quick goodbyes, Amber hurried back to the shed. The thick wad contained about twenty keys. However, it didn’t take long to locate the correct one and get the lock open. Amber had to move swiftly, in little doubt Bert would make good on his promise if he believed she was stealing anything from his shed.
The large space was full of farming vehicles and equipment. Off to the left was a bright green quad bike. She checked the tyres. The same track as the imprint on the beach.
Amber glanced around. Some of the equipment appeared to have been used recently, while some of it didn’t look as though it had been touched since Bert was a boy. That would be the ideal hiding place, in an area of the shed that never got used.
Behind an old rusted tractor, Amber found some hessian bags hanging over something piled up against the wall. Out of sight unless you knew to look there.
Amber had a fair idea of what was underneath even before she looked.
58
Amber shifted one of the coarse sacks enough to be able to look under without taking it off altogether. She found a pile of something firm, about the size of a ream of paper, wrapped in green plastic. Tearing through the plastic revealed a solid brick of powder, tightly packaged together. The powder was white with a pink tinge, Almost certainly the heroin from the sailboat, given the circumstances. There were two stacks, each with five bricks.
Quickly locking the shed again, Amber made her way back to the farmhouse, arranging her thoughts in order as she strode, double-checking her conclusions. It was highly unlikely the drugs belonged to Bert and Betty. Possible, although Amber generally believed herself to be quite a good judge of character, and she didn’t see those two as the type. Which meant someone was using the elderly couple.
She knocked at the farmhouse door and Betty appeared.
“I didn’t expect to see you back here so quickly.”
“I didn’t expect to come back.” Amber held up Bert’s keys. “Are these Bert’s? I found them as I was leaving. He must’ve dropped them when he ‘arrested’ me.”
“Oh, thank you, dearie. I knew you couldn’t have been a thief. He would be furious if he lost them. Should I go get him? He was sulking about not taking you to the police station, so I told him to have a little lie down.”
“No, don’t disturb him. You have a good day.” Amber turned away but stopped. “Oh, one thing. That man you said who comes to help sometimes. What does he look like?”
“I don’t know. A young man. I’m not much good at guessing ages.”
“New to the area, or does he live around here?”
“When we arrived, there were three farms and a general store. That was all for twenty miles.”
“Okay…”
“Everyone seems new to the area to me, dearie.”
“No worries. Thanks, Betty.”
It was possible the man came from Port Simmons. Possible yet unlikely.
Amber walked and thought. There were ten bricks in the shed, which equalled a lot of money. That much heroin, that was pretty serious business. Whoever had hidden them there wasn’t messing around and wouldn’t take too kindly to her snooping. She had to play it carefully. With luck she could smoke out the dealers and have Bert and Betty never even realise they were involved.
As Amber made her way back through the waist-high barley, she placed a call to Mother. She would have to get rid of Lev’s phone soon, even if it had proved quite useful thus far.
“Diamond Logistics.”
“Tony, I have to speak to her…”
He hesitated.
“We are running out of time. If I thought we could simply message, you know I would.”
A few seconds later Mother came on the line.
“You were correct. My initial action with the sailboat was unsuccessful. However, I have found the drugs.”
“Good girl…”
Amber never got to hear what Mother said next because someone shot her.
59
Having faced plenty of danger during her years as an assassin, Amber knew well what a gunshot sounded like. The shot clicked her mental process straight into the zone. She identified it as shotgun fire from around eighty yards away, directly in front of her.
The shot grazed her ear. Two inches to the right and it would have put a decent size hole in her frontal lobe. Instinctively she dropped like a stone.
Her mind raced to catch up. Someone had tried to shoot her. Not Bert. He was lying down. Besides, the shot came from the wrong direction to be him. This was someone hiding in the trees on the edge of the property near the shed. Someone who was not as good a shot as they thought they were. Or someone who panicked and should have waited until Amber was closer.
She played it through their eyes. Full of adrenaline, the shooter would have squeezed the trigger and seen Amber go down. They would have assumed they had hit her, which they had, and maybe that she was dead, which she wasn’t. Would they simply leave the body? No. If a dead body was discovered here, the drugs could be as well.
Amber rolled over and crawled on her belly at a ninety-degree angle to where the shot was fired. If she could make it to the cover of the trees, she had a chance.
There was no way to do it without moving the barley plants around her. It was a better option than staying put or running in plain sight. Besides, with luck the shooter thought she was dead and wouldn’t be looking for moving barley.
She headed for the line of trees which hemmed the field, not moving nearly as quickly as she would like, but as fast as possible on all fours. Time slowed, the field becoming enormous. She focused on making it, nothing else. For a fleeting moment she thought she was clear, then a second shot rang out. This shot was from closer.
Footsteps and voices cut through the quiet. Following her now, charging through the field. Zeroing in fast. More than one.
The shooters knew she was alive and had no intention o
f leaving her that way. They wouldn’t have any luck shooting her like that though, not from a distance, while she was protected by the cover of the barley. Her pursuers had the advantage of being upright though and could move a lot quicker than she could.
Would she make it to the trees like this? Or would they be on her first?
Amber changed tactics, taking a risk. She stood up and ran instead, overall straight and yet veering erratically as she went. If she could just get to the tree line… that would provide options. Cover and a choice of places to run.
A third shot rang out, and for a split second Amber panicked that she had been hit. Her mind playing tricks on her. The fear and the adrenaline mixing together. No pain came. She picked up her speed, darting violently from side to side.
As hoped, making it to the trees multiplied her options. It wasn’t merely a line of trees, it was dense. Trees everywhere. There were a couple of distinct paths she could follow and disappear almost immediately.
Instinctively Amber changed tack.
Positioning herself directly behind a tree, she used the lower branches to scurry up. managing to climb reasonably quickly. This is where Mother’s training paid off. Being in the zone. No thinking. No second-guessing. Just action. Her reason for climbing was simple. It was a guess. Well, maybe slightly better than a guess. An estimation. The shooters, whoever they were, would hit the trees and logically assume she kept running, especially now with all the extra cover. Of course, her instincts could be wrong. If they spotted her climbing or simply happened to glance up, she would be in serious trouble. Even if she hid herself as best she could, she would be easy to see if they looked.
There is something to be said for unpredictability though. Hard to guess a person’s actions if that person has no idea what those actions will be themselves.
Clinging to a branch and taking deep quiet breaths, Amber waited. Being partly hidden obscured her line of vision as well. She could hear them much better than see them. Two figures crashed through the field and into the trees. The silver barrel of the shotgun gleamed as it passed directly underneath her.
They paused, confronted with the options.
“Which way did she go?” said a slightly puffed male voice.
“This way,” the other answered.
The two men struck off through the trees, the sound of their breathing disappearing first, followed by the heavy footsteps, until everything went quiet.
Amber remained in the tree for another few minutes. Would they head back to the point where they had last seen her? Possible but unlikely. Much more likely they would simply assume they had lost her.
Amber climbed down, her legs a touch unsteady. It’s never nice being shot at, especially when you’re not expecting it.
Comparing the position of the sun with the compass in her mind, Amber headed east, away from the beach and staying in the cover of trees. Bert’s farm had to be connected by road, and once she found that navigating her way back to Paradise Cove should be reasonably easy.
It was tricky to remain calm and objective when all Amber could think of was making those idiots pay for trying to kill her.
60
Would Mother be worried? Worried probably wouldn’t be the correct term. Concerned? Unsettled? Feeling her pockets, Amber couldn’t find Lev’s phone. She must’ve dropped it somewhere along the line. Oh well. Easy come, easy go.
Heading back into Paradise Cove, she stopped at the service station and picked up a cheap replacement.
Amber definitely detected a note of something when Mother’s voice came on the line. A mild concern at least. She explained what had happened on Bert’s farm.
“Stupid,” Amber said. “There was heavy surveillance on the sailboat. I knew that. Sloppy. I should have anticipated there could have been security the next place they stashed the drugs.”
“They must be local then. Or staying locally.”
“Not too locally. They’d be noticed in Paradise Cove. Too small. People talk.
Probably Port Simmons. It’s big enough to remain anonymous. But I’m pretty sure they have a local contact. Somebody who knows the farmer and has access to his shed.”
A sour taste crept into Amber’s mouth. The bitumen crunched under her feet as she walked.
“Please advise how I should proceed.”
The question surprised Mother. “You already know, Amber. These are weeds. Weeds.”
“Okay.” Amber was aware Mother would say that. Yet she needed confirmation.
“How do we deal with weeds?” Mother asked.
“We pull them out. By the stem.”
“They have already shown they won’t hesitate to kill you, you have to do the same to them. Terminate with extreme prejudice. Destroy the drugs, kill all those involved.”
Amber hung up and walked the rest of the way home in silence.
She had to deal with this and deal with it now. The clock was ticking. There was always a chance they could move the drugs to a third location, and she could lose them.
If she was right about the local contact, there weren’t too many options. Maybe someone relatively new in town. Someone who did the occasional odd jobs for locals. If it was, would that be a problem? She cut that line of thought altogether. This was time for logic, not emotion.
As the ocean came into view, she was struck by how pretty this part of the world was. The aqua-almost-green of the ocean kissing the light blue of the sky. The warmth of the sun above her. Amber would have walked this exact route with Megan. In the later visits, when they were older and looking for fun outside of Paradise Cove. Gosh, what she wouldn’t do to go back to those carefree days. Laughing and giggling and not a worry in the world. Not a real one anyway. Life’s biggest dramas being about who to kiss and how to sneak alcohol.
When did it all become so complicated and ugly?
61
Returning to her cabin, Amber needed a distraction. After a quick search, she found Lion rolling around in the dirt by the bins. The cat was exactly what she required to kill a few hours. He didn’t object to being picked up and taken to cabin six, where Amber sat him on her knee, patting him intently. At first, Lion squirmed restlessly, but soon he concluded the attention was in fact pretty good and settled down, a deep purr vibrating from his chest. He was beautifully soft, and Amber managed to lose herself in the rhythmic patting, quieting her mind and getting herself in the zone.
After about an hour, there was a knock at the door. Joan? No, she would likely barge straight in. Possibly Megan or Ben. Or possibly someone else.
Amber placed Lion down swiftly yet gently, grabbing her Sig. The person knocked again.
“Who’s there?”
“Vaughan.”
Amber opened the door a crack, holding her weapon just out of sight.
“Hey.”
“What you want, Vaughan?”
He smirked. “Not going to invite me in, kid?”
“I would but I already have some male company.”
She opened the door enough to reveal the cat on the bed.
“Spending some quality time with Lion?”
“Something like that.”
“Fair enough.”
She couldn’t read Vaughan’s face, no idea if he was disappointed or angry or didn’t care in the slightest.
“What did you get up to today?” he asked.
“Not much. You?”
“Me? I lost something. Spent half my afternoon running around like a fool trying to find it. Don’t you hate that?”
“I do. Any luck?”
“Finding it? Nah, it eluded me.”
“I did some climbing.”
“Climbing, really?”
“Yep. Climbed a shed. Then I climbed a tree.”
“Cool. I haven’t climbed a tree in years. Maybe I should try it sometime.”
On the bed Lion stretched and paraded around in little circles, ending up in exactly the same position.
“I enjoyed our date the other night,” V
aughan said.
“It was pleasant.”
“So, did you want to hang out again?”
“When?”
“No time like the present.”
“I can’t tonight. I’m a little busy.”
“Right. With Lion.”
“Right.”
“Cool. Well, if you change your mind, you know where to find me.”
He sauntered away. Amber kept eyes on him until he disappeared around the corner, deliberately ignoring anything her mind tossed up. She went back to Lion, but he’d had enough, trotting over and scratching at the door. Amber let him out. It was probably time anyway. She had things to do.
Amber had something to eat. Enough to keep going for a while. She had no idea when her next opportunity to eat would come. Running low on provisions meant she would have to make another trip to Port Simmons at some stage. Depending. Was she still planning to hang around? It all hinged on how things played out over the next few hours. She pushed those thoughts to the back of her mind. She only had mental space for her immediate problems right now. These people had shot at her, she reminded herself. Shot at her with intention to kill.
She planned to return the favour.
Retrieving her Sig, she made sure it was loaded and functioning properly. Then, careful not to be seen, she snuck away from her cabin.
62
Returning to Bert’s shed via Hidden Beach, Amber remained cautious and vigilant. It was unlikely the shooters were still around, yet exhibiting caution was always wise.
Using the cover of trees, Amber edged as close as she dared. Keeping still, she examined the area, not entirely sure what she was looking for, and yet confident she would know when she saw it. She was in no hurry. She didn’t care how long she took, as long as whatever it was didn’t see her. That was the main thing.
The shooters had responded to her presence. Presumably hers and not Bert’s. Earlier, when she climbed on the roof. They weren’t around here then though. Therefore they had eyes here somewhere. Eyes on the shed. Except, where? The shed was out in the open, not many obvious positions to hide a camera.