Bionic Agent (19 page)

“No.”

“So, unless he can tell us where he is, he’s on his own.”

“That’s not the only problem,” Angel replied.

“I know,” Winter said.

After Jordan’s robotic hand had been damaged by caustic, Angel had ordered a GPS chip to be inserted under the new silicone skin when his right arm had been de-gloved. Then, after the
Hunstanton incident, Angel had decided that tracking Jordan’s position wasn’t enough. He’d told the technician who had tested Jordan’s false arm to slip a microphone
secretly into the thumb. Unit Red had heard everything that had been said among the grain silos.

“We need to find Jordan,” Angel said. “And we need to find Amy Goss. Then you’re going to have to deal with her, Winter. We can’t afford another security
risk.”

The tyre noise changed. The van was driving over gravel when it came to a sudden halt. The rear doors banged open, daylight stung Jordan’s eyes, and he was bundled
outside. He was standing on a stony path that led to a simple and isolated jetty. He didn’t recognize the area. There were bushes on either side but no buildings within sight and the
shoreline showed no distinguishing features. Melissa’s men were pouring out of a second van. Within seconds, Jordan was marched towards a rundown fishing boat, an armed guard on each side of
him. Melissa was in front, Amy was behind.

They were shoved on board and pushed roughly onto smelly upturned crates that had once held the boat’s catch. The wheelhouse was at the front and the stern was full of rusting equipment
for catching, handling and storing fish. A metal arch with pulleys and dangling ropes bridged the two sides of the boat. In one corner, there were some rotting fish-heads.

Melissa smiled spitefully at Jordan and said, “Look around. We’ve got hooks, winches, chains, rope, nets, all sorts of instruments. Any of them could be used imaginatively to make
you talk. And, believe me, I can be very inventive.”

Jordan shuddered. He could see how a traditional trawler could easily become a torture chamber. While he glanced around he also engaged his terahertz vision. Three of Melissa’s men had
concealed knives and the other two were carrying guns. As he lowered his eyes, he noticed that the bald and bearded minder had a second gun in a holster strapped to the bottom of his leg, just
above his right ankle. There was also a knife attached to his left leg. Having encountered Jordan in the sports club, he was taking no chances this time.

Jordan recognized three of the men who had tried to dunk him in caustic solution. One had an ugly scar on his cheek and Jordan wondered if he’d caused the wound when he’d flung the
corrosive liquid at them. The thug deserved it, but was no doubt hungry to get even now.

Melissa shouted to someone in the wheelhouse, “Okay. Let’s head out.”

One of the crew untied the mooring ropes and the engine throbbed louder. The fishing boat made for deep water.

Jordan forced his mind to go online. It wasn’t easy to stay alert and, at the same time, think his password into the Unit Red system. Once again, it took several attempts. As soon as he
logged on, he left another message.
On an old fishing boat at sea. No idea where.
It wasn’t a helpful message, but he had to do something. As an afterthought, he added,
They’ve got guns
. He did not sign out of the system.

He glanced at Amy. Her expression was a mixture of fear and defiance. He wondered where her loyalties now lay. If Melissa Pink quizzed her about him, what would she say? Would Amy lie for him or
would she blurt out all that she knew? Jordan wasn’t sure. He was familiar only with the younger Amy. That Amy would never have betrayed Ben Smith. But Jordan Stryker had duped this Amy and
she knew it. She owed him nothing. She might even bear him a grudge.

Melissa stood up straight and sniffed the sea air. “Ah. Bracing.” She turned to her captives and said, “I like boats. You’re out in the open, but no one sees or hears.
And no one escapes. If anyone happens to realize where you are, we can see them coming from a long way off.” She nodded at her bald bodyguard and he seemed to understand what she wanted. He
stepped forward, untied them and yanked the sticky tape from both of their mouths.

Jordan let out a quiet yelp and swallowed a couple of times. Amy spat over the side of the trawler.

“Now mobiles,” Melissa added.

The same thug went through their pockets and extracted their phones. Once he’d handed them to Melissa, she pitched them over her shoulder and into the sea. Then she sat down, well away
from Jordan and Amy, rested her head on the rail and closed her eyes as if she were a tourist relaxing on a cruise.

It struck Jordan that Melissa avoided getting close to them as if she were scared of catching germs. When there had to be contact, she got her bouncers to step in. Perhaps it was her way of
remaining superior. Perhaps she just didn’t want to leave any evidence on her victims.

A few noisy and hopeful seagulls followed the trawler for a while, but they scattered as soon as they realized there were no fish to scavenge.

“How far can you swim? With a disability like yours,” Melissa said, opening her eyes and staring at Jordan, “not far at all. But I don’t know about you, young Goss. So,
I’m taking no chances. Let’s have a chat when we’ve gone a bit further. The water’s so cold out there even strong swimmers don’t last long.”

Jordan looked at what was left of his artificial arm. He sent a message to flex his fingers and, of course, nothing happened. Checking what movement he had still got, he found he could move the
stump forwards and backwards – like the arm action of a marching soldier – but nothing more.

Amy watched him testing his right arm, but she said nothing.

Jordan knew she had plenty to say to him, but she’d stay silent while Melissa and her heavies hovered over them like big birds of prey.

After about twenty minutes, Melissa stood up again and went towards the wheelhouse. “That’ll do,” she said to someone inside. Then she returned to the rear of the boat.

Jordan’s heart began to pound even more than before.

The trawler rocked gently and the engine chugged idly. Standing in the centre of the stern and facing Amy, Melissa jerked her thumb in Jordan’s direction. “What do you know about
him?”

“Almost nothing,” Amy replied. “We bumped into each other after your lot chased him out of the sports club a couple of weeks back.” She shrugged. “That’s it
really.”

“And from that sprang a beautiful relationship?”

“I wouldn’t put it like that.”

“How would you put it?”

Amy shrugged again. “He’s all right. We met twice more.”

“Did you ask to see him or was it the other way round?”

“He came to me.”

Overhead, a commercial aircraft made its way noisily towards the mainland.

Melissa looked around again. No doubt she wanted to give the impression that she wasn’t in a hurry. “Mmm. It’s nice out here. Quite calm and sunny today. Can’t see much
of the land. I gave some of your dad’s people a tour like this. It was their last chance to switch sides. The ones that didn’t take it were counted as victims of the Thames explosion.
Very convenient.” She paused before adding, “That was somewhere different, you understand. We’re nowhere near the estuary here.”

Jordan wondered if that was the truth or a double bluff. He was desperate to find out where they were.

Abruptly, Melissa turned back to Amy. “You’re hiding something.”

Amy shook her head and then changed her mind. “Oh. He fancies himself as a hero. He dragged someone from a burning car. I was impressed with that. And he doesn’t go to school. He
gets home tuition.”

“There’s more.”

“Er... He lost his real arm in a car accident.”

Jordan recognized edginess in her voice. He guessed that she was nervous. He also thought that, inside, she was seething with rage.

“Put your mind to it,” Melissa said as she fingered a large boathook. “You might come up with something worthwhile.”

“I can’t... No. There’s one more thing.” She glanced sideways at Jordan and said, “He lives next door to one of my teachers.”

Melissa nodded. “You’re not trying hard enough. Perhaps a bit of persuasion... But first...” She turned towards Jordan. “You puzzle me, Stryker. And I don’t like
puzzles. I like to know things. If a member of the great British public has their arm ripped off in a car crash, the NHS doesn’t provide a false one like yours. They get something tinny and
basic. It makes them feel better about themselves and makes it easier for the rest of us to look at them and forget they got hurt. They don’t get what you’ve got – or what you
had. That’s a lot more than basic. It’s very special. A lethal weapon. So, someone’s backing you with money and power. Maybe it’s not young Amy’s dad. Maybe I was
wrong.” She paused. “I don’t like being wrong any more than I like puzzles. So, talk to me. Explain.”

The guard with the shaggy beard stood to her left and the second stood to her right, next to a crate of dirty nets. Both men were still holding guns. One was trained on Amy, the other on
Jordan.

He decided to throw Melissa a titbit. He hoped it might satisfy her curiosity. “All right. My arm came off in the Thames explosion...”

“I’m not stupid. I’d guessed that.”

“I wanted to find out who mashed me up so I started asking...”

Melissa interrupted again. “It’s the bit in between that interests me. You can’t do that without backup. If it’s not Goss’s outfit, who’s behind you? I want
to know. I want to know who patched you up and told you to start asking questions about the bombing.”

Jordan shook his head.

She sighed loudly. Bending down, she picked up an old, rusting fish hook from one of the equipment chests and then fiddled with it in her hand. “Have you ever wondered about fish?”
she asked. “I have. It’s the way we catch them. Not nets. When we hook them with this sort of thing.” She held out the vicious barbed hook. “It goes right through the cheek.
Is it called a cheek if you’re a fish? Anyway, I bet it hurts when we pull them out of the sea.”

Jordan didn’t respond. He didn’t know what to say. All he knew was that he was afraid.

“This is a good opportunity for some research. If we try it on you, we’ll soon find out.” She handed the hook to one of her henchmen.

It was the bald guy. He put his gun back inside his jacket and, holding the hook in his right hand, advanced eagerly on Jordan. He was about to grab Jordan’s jaw with his nicotine-stained
left fingers, when he hesitated. “His eyes are funny, boss. Know what I mean?”

“Are they?” she replied, but she didn’t take a close look herself. “What’s going on with them?” she asked Jordan. “Have you had something done to
them?”

Jordan swallowed before he could talk. “They got scratched and stuff. I had to have an operation to put them right.”

“What else have you had done?” she demanded to know.

“Nothing else like my arm, if that’s what you mean. Just lots of operations.”

Melissa smiled. “You’re like some ageing celebrity. Cosmetic surgeons crawling all over you. Someone wanted you in good condition for a reason. Undress him. Let’s take a
look.”

Jordan shrank back.

“Come on,” she said. “Don’t be shy. If you resist, it’ll be worse. We’ll tie you up in nets.”

They yanked off his top and trousers, but at least they left him in his pants. They dragged him to his feet and prowled around, examining him as if he were some sort of exhibit or freak.

The thug with the disfigured face said, “There’s something in his leg.” He reached for the knife that was concealed inside his leather jacket.

“No!” Jordan recoiled even before the guy got it out.

Melissa exclaimed, “You know he’s got a knife! How?”

“I don’t,” Jordan lied. “It’s just that... It’s not hard to guess. He looked like he was going to cut me up.”

Melissa wasn’t entirely satisfied, but she didn’t pursue it. “What’s in your leg?”

“It’s a battery. That’s all. It powers my arm.”

“Do you see yourself as some sort of James Bond? He had lots of gadgets.” She laughed. “That makes me a Bond villain. But they were all fools. They strapped our James into some
contraption to kill him and then left, giving him time and opportunity to escape. That’s not me. I’m not going anywhere. I’m staying right here till the job’s done.”
Checking with her heavies, she asked, “Nothing else bionic and dangerous?”

“No. Just lots of scars.”

Luckily his brain implants weren’t obvious. His hair hid the marks.

“Carry on with the experiment.”

The bald thug looked puzzled.

“To find out if it hurts when you’re hooked. I’ve got a hunch it’s as painful as it looks, but we’d better make sure.”

The bouncer’s face creased into a repulsive smile. He forced Jordan’s jaws apart with the foul stained fingers of his left hand. Enjoying himself, he shoved the barbed hook into
Jordan’s mouth with his right.

Flinching, Amy looked away.

“All right!” Jordan choked over his words because of the dirty fingers in his mouth. “I’ll tell you the truth.”

Melissa nodded at the gangster and, denied the chance to torture Jordan, he stepped back, disappointed.

Jordan steadied himself and, head down, took a few deep breaths. The horrible taste lingered in his mouth. Another aeroplane emerged out of the cloud when he looked up. “My mum was in the
police. When my family died in the estuary explosion, the police looked after me. They asked me to find out what happened as a sort of payback for patching me up.”

Melissa didn’t reply at first. She simply stared at him. Then she shook her head. “You’re holding back. Those crazy eyes tell me there’s more. And I don’t believe
in the Police Youth Squad for a second.”

The captain called from the wheelhouse. “Low-flying helicopter coming in!”

Melissa did not have to give any orders. The crew executed a routine that was as practised as a school fire drill. Within seconds, Jordan and Amy had been tossed roughly into separate crates and
covered with nets. Men stood over them with knives, pretending to mend the nets. One crew member operated the winch and two more pretended to ready the fishing tackle. Melissa was out of sight in
the wheelhouse. From above, the trawler would seem to be going about its business of catching fish.