Not, of course, that he ever covered such stories in Greater Malling. Almost from the day he had arrived, he had been bored rigid, writing about marriages and funerals, charity events, local councillors and bright school kids. He had thought about leaving several times and had only stayed because there were no other jobs. He had a flat in York. He had occasional girlfriends. Life wasn’t too bad and he was sure that if he stayed around long enough, something would turn up.
That something was a fourteen-year-old boy who had arrived in the office one afternoon, just after lunch, with a story so incredible that Richard had given up on him within five minutes of their meeting. Matthew Freeman claimed he had been kept prisoner in a local farm, Hive Hall, that he had stumbled upon a conspiracy that involved a disused nuclear power station, a circle of witches and God knows what else. It was all completely unbelievable. Richard had said so and Matt had stormed out of the office.
What was it that had made Richard decide to take a second look, to drive out to the old power station that night? He doubted now that he would ever know, but as things had turned out, he had met up with Matt again and at once he had been plunged into a different world. And it really had been like that … as if he had dived off a cliff, into a cold sea. His own life had been torn away from him. Everything he believed had been shattered. Yes, there were witches and demons and blood sacrifices. There were children with special powers and secret societies that existed to protect them. There were the Old Ones. He had been forced to accept all of it and had known from that moment on that there would be no escape.
From Yorkshire to London to Peru, back to London and then to Hong Kong – Richard had been swept along, trying to work out what his role in all this might be. The five Gatekeepers had been chosen for this adventure long before they had been born … but why him? He had consoled himself with the thought that he was there to help Matt. Certainly the two of them had become friends of a sort. But even that role had been taken from him when he had found himself in Cairo with Scarlett.
Since then, he had tried to give her the same support he had given Matt. He had barely left her side after she had been wounded. He had managed to save her from Tarik and had brought her here to Dubai. And now he had failed her. It was as simple as that. He should never have brought her here.
Richard went into Scarlett’s room. “We’re leaving,” he announced.
“What?” Scarlett had been lying on the bed but now she sat up.
“We’re getting out of the palace. It doesn’t matter about Larry Carter.” Richard went on quickly, before she could interrupt. “He probably wouldn’t have taken us where we want to go anyway. We can get back in the car and drive to Oman or even down to Yemen. If there are planes here, there may be planes there. It doesn’t make any difference. All we know is we can’t stay here.”
“But what about the door? It’s locked.”
By way of an answer, Richard leant down and seemed to take something out of his shoe. When he straightened up, he was holding the gun that had once belonged to the Frenchman, Rémy.
“Where did that come from?” Scarlett asked.
“I had it in my sock.”
She stared, then remembered the entrance to the casino. “What about the metal detectors?” They had both passed through them.
“Yes. I was worried about that. But they weren’t even plugged in. I knew when I saw a man go through, carrying a dog. It had a metal collar and it didn’t set anything off. I guess the security was all part of the make-believe.” He gripped the gun. “I wasn’t going to come here empty-handed. And I can use this to get us out.”
“Someone will hear if you shoot.”
“I don’t think so. There were no guards in the corridor as far as I could see, and most of the people here were so drunk when they left the dinner that they’re probably fast asleep. But you can help me. Run the bath and put the shower on. That’ll make a bit of noise. And as for the rest of it…”
He grabbed one of the pillows off the bed and wrapped the muzzle of the gun inside it, then pressed the whole thing against the lock of the door. Meanwhile, Scarlett had run into the bathroom and turned on all the taps. With so much metal and marble around, the sound of the water seemed amplified. Richard took a deep breath, then pulled the trigger.
Even with the pillow acting as a silencer, the explosion was enormous and must surely have been heard throughout the palace, if not in much of Dubai. Richard lowered the pillow – there was a scorched hole right through the middle – and tried the handle. The door swung inwards. He and Scarlett waited, hardly daring to breathe. But there was no sound of any alarms, no guards running. Someone must have heard the gunshot but it was always possible that they had no idea where it had come from. It could have been a drunken guest trying to make a point … perhaps even the sheikh himself.
Richard wasn’t going to wait any longer. “Let’s go,” he muttered.
He and Scarlett slipped out.
After the sudden interruption, the palace had returned to that strange, absolute silence that only comes at night. The corridors were empty, illuminated by lamps shaped like candles, set at intervals along the walls. There weren’t very many of them but the light was reflected by the white and pale grey marble, allowing them to see far ahead. Richard still had no idea how many people lived in the palace. It seemed to him that only half the dinner guests had actually left, meaning that around fifteen of them might still be under the sheikh’s roof. Then there was the sheikh himself, his three bodyguards and at least a dozen servants. Add in guards, attendants, ministers and hangers-on and there could be a hundred people here … certainly the palace was big enough to house them all.
“Which way?” Scarlett asked.
“Follow me.” The truth was that Richard had little idea which way they were going. He had been careful to follow their progress from the dining room, along a maze of twisting corridors and passageways, up two flights of stairs … but even if he could make his way back to the main door, he had little doubt that it would be locked and guarded. He still had the gun, but that wasn’t going to help them if they were surrounded. He knew only that he had very little time to find a way out. Someone must have heard the gunshot. They might be investigating it even now.
They reached the end of the corridor, passed through an archway guarded by two onyx lions, one on each side, twisted round on themselves and finally came to the main staircase, a swirl of gold banisters and red carpet that would bring them down to the entrance hall and the doors to the street. They hurried down, but as they got to the hallway, Scarlett grabbed hold of Richard and pulled him back. She pointed. A CCTV camera was mounted high up on a crossbeam and, unlike the metal detector, it was definitely working, a red light blinking in the half-light. They were out of range, but one more step and they would have been seen.
“What now?” Scarlett whispered.
“A service entrance. There must be one…”
They found their way back to the dining room and went through the swing doors into the kitchen. Fortunately, there were no more cameras and if there were any guards on patrol, they didn’t come across them. Together, they hurried past the stainless-steel surfaces, the fridges and the ovens. This was where all the food was prepared. It had to come in from somewhere.
It was on the other side, a set of double doors at the end of a short corridor. Without knowing quite why, Richard was certain that they had found the delivery entrance. He hurried towards it, realizing only when it was too late that he had made a mistake, that there was a second corridor that he hadn’t noticed, with a man standing in the shadows. A guard stepped out, his rifle already loaded and at the ready. He stared at Richard and Scarlett in disbelief, then spoke to them in Arabic. Richard didn’t move. He was still holding the gun and wondered if he could bring it up and fire it in time. The guard was aiming directly at him, less than five metres away. He would certainly shoot Richard down before he himself was hit – but at least that might give Scarlett a chance to get
away. The exit door was so close! Richard cursed himself for not being more careful.
There was the tinkle of glass. The guard’s eyes went white and he folded in on himself. It took Richard a moment to see that something had smashed into the back of his skull. Then Jaheda appeared behind him, holding the broken neck of a bottle of champagne.
The two of them looked at each other.
“You…” she said.
“Jaheda.”
“I was coming to your room. I was coming to find you.” Was it true? The woman’s face, still partly concealed by the black silk scarf that hung around it, gave nothing away.
She was not alone.
There was a man standing behind her, dressed in the rags of what had once been blue trousers and a white shirt. He was barefoot. Richard knew at once that he was looking at the pilot, Larry Carter. He had been badly beaten. Richard saw the whip marks where the blood had dried across his shirt, and one side of his face was swollen. He had sand-coloured hair, matted and bedraggled. He looked as if he hadn’t eaten properly for a week.
“Who the hell are you?” he demanded.
“I’m Richard Cole. This is Scarlett.”
“What are you doing here?” He didn’t sound at all pleased to see them. In fact he was sullen and hostile.
“As a matter of fact, we came to get you out.”
“Did you? And why would you do that?”
“There is no time for a conversation,” Jaheda interrupted. “You can do that when you are gone from here. I have the man you wanted. I have kept my side of the bargain and taken him from his cell. But now you must go. I want you far away.”
She hurried towards the doors that Richard had first seen. Carter might have been released from his cell but his hands were still tied behind him and he stumbled forward, his arms and shoulders straining against the cords. Richard and Scarlett followed.
The doors led into a service area with a forklift truck resting against a wall and piles of empty crates all around. Richard had hoped he would see the street on the other side but they were still inside the palace compound, in a walled-in parking area with about fifty cars neatly positioned in two long rows. Even at a glance, it was clear that many of them had never been driven. They were brilliantly polished, the tyres free of any dust or dirt. Some were brand new, some vintage – from the twenties and thirties. Together they would have been worth hundreds of thousands of pounds.
“The sheikh likes cars,” Jaheda said.
“Even though he has nowhere to go,” Richard muttered.
The woman turned on him. “He collects cars. He does not need to drive them. You wouldn’t understand.”
She led them to yet another door with a push-bar. Surely this had to be the way out into the street! The door was locked and this time there was an electronic keypad, demanding a numeric code.
“The number is 5455,” Jaheda said. “But opening the door at this time of the night will set off an alert throughout the palace and there is nothing I can do about that. Once you are outside, you will find yourselves on Baniyas Road. Do you have a car?”
“Yes.”
“It will take them a few minutes to come after you. Go as quickly as you can. If Rasheed catches you, have no doubt, he will kill you slowly.”
“Thank you,” Richard said.
“Do not thank me,” Jaheda snapped. But then she turned and looked at Scarlett and just for a moment there was a softness in her eyes. Perhaps she was remembering how she had been at that age. “I have done this only for myself.”
She turned and went, hurrying back the way she had come. Richard, Scarlett and Larry Carter were left standing beside the door.
“I don’t suppose either of you would have a knife on you?” the pilot asked.
Richard shook his head. “We’ll cut you free later.”
“So what happens now?”
“We go to the airport.”
“The plane’s still there?”
“That’s right. You’re going to fly us out.”
“Oh yes? And where do you think you’re heading?”
“To Antarctica.”
“You’ve got to be kidding!”
Richard had never taken a dislike to anyone so immediately. He and Scarlett were saving this man’s life. The sheikh would have executed him. But he wasn’t remotely grateful. In fact, all he seemed to want to do was argue. “Let’s not discuss it now,” he said.
He keyed in the four numbers that Jaheda had given him.
The door opened and at the same moment alarm bells exploded throughout the palace. Richard, Scarlett and Carter burst out, running into the sluggish heat of the night. It took them a moment to orient themselves. There was the dried-out canal in front of them, the casino on their right…
“Where’s the car?” the pilot shouted.
“This way!”
Richard led them down Baniyas Road. There were no lights anywhere in the city but they were lucky. There was a full moon and the sky was full of stars. Richard had left the Land Cruiser about a hundred metres away and they ran towards it, their footsteps echoing on the pavements, the pilot cursing as he had to fight for balance with his arms behind him. Back at the palace, lights were already starting to come on. Someone shouted. Could it be possible that they had been spotted? Richard was already wishing he had parked the car closer. He felt in his trouser pockets for the ignition key. It wasn’t there! Just for a moment, his blood froze – then he remembered that he had decided it was better not to carry it with him and had left it in the glove compartment.
They reached the car. Richard threw open the door and scrambled in. Scarlett helped Larry Carter into the back, wasting precious seconds as he contorted himself and swore out loud, banging his head against the top of the doorframe. Then she climbed in next to Richard.
Richard found the key, jammed it into the ignition and turned it. The car started at once. They pulled out and began to drive. For the first time that evening, Scarlett thought she could relax. They had made it! The airport was less than twenty minutes away.
“There’s something I think I should tell you.” The voice was Larry Carter’s and it was utterly cold, coming from the back seat. “I don’t know what you two jokers think you’re up to, but there’s absolutely no way I’m flying you to Antarctica. I don’t quite know why you want to go there. It wouldn’t be my choice for a vacation. But just so there’s no misunderstanding, I’m telling you now, it’s out of the question.”
Richard glanced at the driving mirror. “Suppose we dump you on the road,” he muttered.
“Then you’re not going anywhere. Zack needs me to fly that plane. Or didn’t he tell you?”
Zack was Martins, the co-pilot. And Richard knew that Carter was telling the truth.
Scarlett twisted round. The pilot was sprawled out uncomfortably, sitting on his own hands and arms. But there was a thin, unpleasant smile on his face. At the end of the day, he held all the cards … and he knew it. “We have to go to Antarctica,” she said.
“Why do you have to do that?”
“I can’t explain it to you. And you wouldn’t believe me if I did.”
“Well, let me explain something to you. There’s nothing there except freezing wind and maybe a few penguins. Nowhere to refuel. If I come down on the ice, I may not be able to take off again. I don’t want to die out there.”
“You won’t die. There are people waiting for us.”
“Really?” Carter didn’t sound convinced. “Well, they’re going to have to wait a little longer. I’m heading back to Australia. Maybe you can hitch another ride from there.”
Scarlett opened her mouth to argue with him, but just then there was a flicker of light in the back window and she saw three cars pulling out onto the road far behind them. “Richard…!”
“I’ve seen them.” Richard glanced again at the rear-view mirror. The cars were some distance but they were already catching up. He thought of the vehicles he had seen in the lock-up. They contai
ned some of the most powerful engines ever built for the road. There was no doubt at all that whoever was following would catch up with them long before they got anywhere near the airport.
The pilot had seen them too. He was leaning forward, the lights of the dashboard reflecting green in his face. He looked scared. “Where’s your gun?” he demanded. With a cry of desperation, he jerked at the ropes, trying to free himself.
“The gun won’t help us,” Richard said. He turned to Scarlett and there was a moment of understanding between them. “Can you?”
Scarlett thought briefly, then nodded. She took one last look behind her. The pursuing cars had already halved the distance between them. She had to do this quickly. She closed her eyes. Fifteen seconds passed. They were still speeding forward through the empty streets. Richard was gripping the wheel, concentrating on the road ahead.
“What are you doing?” the pilot shrieked. He was staring at Scarlett. “You think falling asleep is going to help?”
“Listen to me, Mr Carter,” Richard said, through gritted teeth. “We’re going to get to the airport and you’re going to get us into the air. And then you’re going to take us to Antarctica because this girl is very special and if she says she has to be there, then that’s what happens.”
“Special…?”
“If you don’t believe me, look behind you.”
Larry Carter hesitated, then turned around in his seat and looked out of the rear window. He stared. Then he faced forward again. Then he looked back. His mouth fell open. He looked more frightened than ever.
“She did that…?” he whispered.
“That’s right,” Richard said. “She did that.”
The way ahead was clear. They were driving through the empty city, the road a pale white, reflecting the moon. The skyscrapers were silhouetted like huge paper cut-outs all around. But behind them, the rain was pounding down. It was falling so heavily that everything was obliterated. The road had become a black river. The cars that had been following them had disappeared. Almost certainly they would have had to stop. Nothing would have been able to drive through the rainstorm.
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