Leopard Dreaming (23 page)

U ok?
he asked, as if applying a light massage.

She shrugged, feeling as pale as she must have looked, and turned to huddle against him, as if returning a little of his affection.

Her car is below us
, she typed covertly onto his chest.
It floatd west a little b4 it sank.

They were in it?

Mira shook her head, unsure which fate could be worse.
Crew tied them togthr. Opend torpedo and … u can ges the rest.
They’d used the same method for transferring their dirty money from ship to sub after laundering.

She signalled Darkin to return to a safe distance, and when he did, taking shelter from the wind as well between two isles of mangroves, she heard the others gathering around her expectantly.

‘Kitching has them,’ she confirmed. She heard a high-speed boat in the nearby channel, and before she could explain anything else, the intruder darted between the isles and decelerated unexpectedly beside them.

‘Cannon!’ Lockman shouted. Grabbing her, he spun her away from the rail, shielding her from a blast of salt water, and as he fell with her to the deck many things seemed to happen at once. The joey’s pouch fell at her side, having been almost weightless over her shoulder until then. Moser yowled like a great beast leaping overhead. A splash warned he’d been blasted overboard. Machine guns chattered and bullets pinged along the hull.

Lockman leapt away from Mira, replying to their attackers with his near-silent Glock. He shouted
for Darkin to get down too, but as the assault vessel accelerated away, she heard Darkin and Symes joining Lockman at the rail, firing at least another two weapons out to sea, including one chirpy little sub-machine gun that rat-a-tat-tatted like a psycho woodpecker, firing faster than any finger could pull a single trigger, and higher pitched, like a juvenile version of the military models she’d heard during previous ambushes.

‘Yeah, you’d better run!’ Darkin shouted after them. He bolted back to the helm and powered up, while Mira reached into the pouch to check on Pockets. ‘Reload, people. I ain’t the king of paintball for nothing, and nobody, but nobody, shoots holes in my baby!’

‘Freeze!’ Symes ordered, and a tense moment followed until the musician complied. ‘This is where we part company, son. I’m going after them. I’ll need that sweet little machine pistol you had stashed under the helm, and a loan of your jet boat.’

‘Hey, no need to point your metal at me, man. You want the HK? Take it.’

Mira heard a set of chinks as the weapon exchanged hands. She’d heard the term HK once before in reference to machine guns. Heckler and Koch; a respected brand, apparently.

‘Here,’ Darkin added, making the sounds of another shuffle and toss. ‘Send them a few extra clips from me.’

‘Thanks. Now get moving, son. Lower the jet boat.’

‘Do it yourself. Just press the button down there marked “lifeboat” and keep your feet in the yellow circle. She loads you aboard and launches automatically.’

Too slowly for Mira’s liking, however. Their attackers were already extending their lead as they raced off through the maze of mangrove isles.

‘Add it to the bill,’ Symes said as he jogged to the far side of the deck. ‘Along with your time and expense for dropping these two off wherever they want … Hey, Clyde!’ he shouted over the rail. ‘Are you dead?’

‘I’m thinking about it!’ Moser splashed about with no way to climb aboard unless someone lowered the slinky loading ramp. ‘Better get down here fast, Syd, or I’m swimming after them!’

L
ockman helped Mira up from the wet deck and ushered her to the stairs. He waved to the detectives as they sped away in Darkin’s
Ski Ya Later
, while Darkin himself leaned over the opposite rail, inspecting his
Liquid Limo
for damage.

‘Hallowed be hull technology!’ He whistled, as if he’d expected a lot more holes in his “baby”. ‘Bastards barely chipped the paint.’

‘Down decks now,’ Lockman called to him. ‘They may have friends about.’

‘Anyone care to tell me who they were?’

‘Bad guys.’ Lockman swept Mira into his arms, the pair of them wringing wet, and jogged down to the recreation deck with her.

A quick turn around the spa and fountain put them inside an opulent games room with a pool table, bar and a collection of wildly coloured beanbags that lay scattered about in stark contrast to the ivory walls, floor and other furniture.

‘Here’s the bar,’ he said, setting her down against it. ‘Stools are to your left and right if you want one.’ He spun about to the long smoked-glass windows that ran down both sides of the room, wondering if he’d
need to take her down another deck for better security. ‘Haven’t you ever heard of curtains?’ he asked Darkin.

The shirtless musician shrugged and pressed a button at the main helm.

Shutters engaged down the outside like huge metal eyelids that blinked shut and sealed. ‘Cyclone guards okay?’

‘Better than okay.’ They looked to be made of the same polymer as the hull, which made them virtually bullet-proof. ‘You got any more little surprises like the HK?’

‘Yeah, mate. Pirate protection comes standard on every deck. Nothing says leave me be like a spray from an Uzi, right?’

‘Actually, I just wanted to be sure you can still defend yourself.’

Darkin grinned and walked casually to the wall rack for pool cues, opened it and revealed a weapons cache that made Lockman’s eyes water. Mostly skeet shooters and spearguns for diving, but also a nice collection of mint quality Colts, Berettas and Desert Eagles. All black with matching platinum trim.

‘I never met an Eagle that wasn’t stainless steel, blued, or blackened for night ops.’ Lockman took a Colt, inspected it, and handed it back to him. ‘It’s pretty enough, but do you keep it clean where it counts?’

‘No point in keeping them otherwise. A gun that won’t shoot is a club, and a club is no help when half the foreign oceans we sail through are rife with pirates.’

‘If you know where the troubled waters are,’ Mira asked, ‘why not avoid them?’

‘Trouble finds me anywhere, little lady. You may have noticed.’

Lockman chose the smallest Eagle next, loaded it with the biggest calibre it would take and handed it to
Darkin. Then he took a moment to complete his own brief ritual of a post-engagement weapons check.

‘You want to upgrade?’ Darkin offered. ‘Nothing says die like a forty-five.’

‘In another life maybe.’ Lockman turned his back to check on Mira, not surprised to find her still standing. So much to admire there. ‘I’m trying to cut down.’

‘Yeah, I had wondered. Three shots, three wings. On stable ground you must be lethal.’

‘They were apples in a barrel,’ Lockman argued. ‘A mock attack if ever I saw one.’

‘Baby’s got chips down her flank that say otherwise.’

‘If they were serious, they would have used a real cannon, and aimed at us instead of the boat.’

‘Should we be discussing this here?’ Mira asked, rubbing a large pink welt on her upper arm.

‘We need to get dry first.’ Lockman glanced at Darkin. ‘Got any towels handy?’

‘You want a change of clothes too? Maybelline’s roughly her size, I think.’

‘No, thank you.’ Mira rubbed her arm again. ‘I’ve got leathers here if I get desperate.’

‘How about you?’ Darkin asked.

Lockman shook his head. ‘Just the towels, thanks.’ He stripped off his jacket and black t-shirt, and noticed Mira still rubbing that spot on her arm.

‘Did I hurt you?’ he asked as soon as Darkin left them alone. He strode over for a closer look anyway, but she covered it with her hand.

‘It’s nothing. Just stings a little.’

‘Didn’t mean to throw you down so hard, sorry.’

‘It’s only from the water jet, and you took the brunt of that. A good thing you’re still wearing your jacket.’

Adrenaline had saved him from feeling most of the discomfort. He straightened her glasses, brushed aside an unruly curl from her forehead, and found a bruise beginning to swell above her left eye.

‘This wasn’t the water.’ He drew a circle around it lightly with his finger. ‘Hey, Darkin,’ he called down the hall. ‘I’m raiding your party ice.’

‘Yeah, go for it. Make mine Scotch on the rocks.’

Lockman dove straight for the bar fridge and found a dozen racks of ice trays. All shapes, flavours and sizes, and all neatly ordered like the hidden weapons cache.

Plain ice wrapped in a paper napkin served well enough as a cold pack.

‘If I suggested you need to sit down …?’ he asked.

‘I’d say, I’ll live.’ Yet she groped for a stool without any further argument.
I don’t understand,
she added in sign language for the deaf.
If they didn’t come to kill anyone, why bother?

Lockman took her hands in his, splaying her fingers to reply — until he realised he wasn’t about to say anything that Freddie and Kitching hadn’t already come up with by themselves. ‘Apparently they didn’t want the feds around any more than we did. That assault boat was the launch for the local water police. Hijacked, no doubt. And the perfect lure for Symes and Moser, who were bound by duty to pursue the more immediate danger.’

‘They’ll never catch them,’ Mira whispered. ‘But at least we can now be sure that General Garland’s no longer spying on me. She never could have kept her nose out of that little exhibition.’

‘Unless she sent them.’ He couldn’t help but suspect it himself now.

‘Oh, tsk tsk, Lieutenant!’ She clicked her tongue at him. ‘People who suspect the general of anything naughty end up on my side of the fence.’

‘Look again, sweetheart. I’m already here.’ He took the ruined napkin from her and dropped it in the bin behind the bar just as Darkin returned and handed around a set of three luxuriously soft white beach
towels, keeping one for himself. They smelled strongly of lavender, and soaked the water off body and clothes so well they rivalled tissue paper.

‘Did you recognise anyone?’ asked Mira.

‘Not clearly.’

‘Maybe I can help there,’ Darkin said. ‘Ever been on a commercial cruise liner?’

Lockman shook his head, and Mira did too.

‘Two words: cruise cam. It’s installed at the bow and stern, so it doesn’t matter which room you’re in, or which deck, if you want to see where we’re headed, or where we’ve been, you can …’ He switched on a large flat screen TV to demonstrate.

An orgy of bodies writhed to life noisily until he changed channels. ‘Whoa! Awkward.’ He used a remote to switch modes as well, and Lockman saw the view outside, as if he was standing topside. ‘We can do split screen …’ He opened both live views from the bow and stern at once, top and bottom of the screen. ‘And best of all, we can rewind.’

Taking it back revealed clear images of the attack and retreat, while slow motion and freeze-frame gave clear images of all five men. All Asian, but with features so mixed Lockman couldn’t be certain of their origin from any one race or country. ‘And with a single click,’ Darkin said before Lockman could stop him, ‘there’s now thirty million fans worldwide to help keep a watch for them.’

‘Don’t!’ Mira shouted, flushing fiery red and clenching her fists.

Lockman had been about to shout too, but now he no longer felt the need. ‘You’re not in any of the footage,’ he said, surprised to realise he was defending the musician. ‘What I mean to say is, there’s no extra threat to you. Might even help, I suspect.’

‘Wait for it,’ Darkin said. ‘I did this the last time my Gallardo got egged. Took the dashboard and park-
assist cams, and got a response in five minutes with the culprit located in ten.’

Projecting his website and blog into other corners of the screen, it took less than two minutes to receive a response from three fans who were sailing in the bay.

‘New record!’ Darkin clapped and beamed like a new father. ‘Look at this.’

Seen heading west towards Port a Bris 5 mins ago with two suits in hot pursuit.
GPS coordinates and a snapshot of both vessels also accompanied the fan’s text and ID, which was abbreviated as LilSkweelr.

‘Nice,’ Mira said, looking genuinely impressed. ‘What do they want from you in return, though?’

‘Who knows? More rock to sail by? We’re a community, Little Miss Mystery. Oh, she who puts the muse back into music. Fans are just friends I haven’t met in the flesh yet. Sign up for my daily feed and you’ll get to know as much as I will. And in the meantime, where can I drop you?’

‘Point Lookout on Straddie.’

‘Which beach? Dead Man’s, Frenchman’s or Main?

‘That depends. How shallow can we get in this?’

‘Three metres. Two in a pinch, provided it’s low tide, calm, and the bottom’s sandy. Not much chance of sneaking in too close today, though. Surf’s up thanks to all the wild weather lately.’

‘Then we’ll need somewhere sheltered. I don’t want her swimming ashore, if I can help it.’ He didn’t need much time to think. ‘There’s an old pier at Poacher’s Cove that still belongs to National Parks and Wildlife. Do you know where that is?’

‘Sure, but isn’t that off-limits? Last I heard, they’d been restoring the lagoon to a reef.’

‘And still are, if we’re lucky. How fast can you get there?’

‘Twenty minutes. Maybe less if nobody’s watching, but if she’s concerned about staying invisible, you need
to know that place is renowned for surveillance. They catch more poachers there than anywhere else on the island. Night or broad daylight. That’s how it earned its name from the locals.’

‘Not this week. I happen to know the park ranger’s catamaran was stolen and blown up alongside a cargo ship last week. So best case scenario, we’re in, you’re out, and nobody’s the wiser. Worst case, we’re spotted, but only by a park ranger.’

‘Done deal. Adrenaline’s been the mother of all muses and I’m keen to find a quiet cove to get it all out on paper.’

‘Is that why you play, Mr Darkin?’ Mira asked, hugging herself to stay warm. ‘As an expression of adrenaline?’

‘Nailed it in one. Unspent adrenaline. Bane of my life, little lady. My hands start to shake if I don’t take care of it, and right now the juices are pumping. Thanks to you and my lucky pick, it’s all bound to go platinum.’

Lockman studied him a moment longer, and nodded. If ever he’d felt the urge to jam with a guy, it was Darkin.

‘One last question,’ Mira added. ‘Since our last leg will take at least twenty minutes, is there any chance one of you could teach me some better self-defence, please? Just a crash course in one or two moves will do. I’m sick to death of feeling so helpless every time there’s the slightest chance of an ambush.’

‘Snap! Pick me,’ Darkin cheered. ‘Paintball king, and I know a little of everything.’

‘The helm needs your talents more,’ Lockman reminded him. ‘And I know where she’s up to already.’

Mira puffed from the workout.

Dark Music belted out through every speaker aboard the
Liquid Limo
, making the entire hull of the
Oculus class yacht and all its decks resonate. Catchy enough in both lyrics and tune, but to her untrained ear, Declan’s band lacked the heart of Lockman’s much simpler instrumental melodies.

‘So that’s five new moves,’ Lockman said, hugging her stiffly against his side like a captor.

‘If she’s got so much ESP,’ Darkin quipped from the helm, ‘why not just coach her in which parts of the brain to rearrange so she can kill or disable using telekinetics? She wouldn’t even need to move brain cells around psychically, she could just squeeze off small veins and cause aneurisms or something.’

‘Ew!’ Mira screwed up her face. ‘Can I practise on you first?’

‘She doesn’t have that kind of ESP,’ Lockman said, sounding amused. His attention came back to her swiftly, though. She could tell by the way his hold had tensed and shifted. ‘You want to run through them one more time?’ he asked.

She didn’t hesitate. ‘Elbow down, twist out,’ she said, explaining her moves as she went. ‘Then my back-fist goes to the back of your ear as I turn.’ She pulled her punch though, just as he’d taught her, so she’d learn restraint from the start.

‘And if I come at you again like this?’

She heard him swing around with his voice low as if lunging to grab her around the stomach.

‘I find your head,’ she said, grabbing his hair and ear lightly, ‘grip, and raise my knee up to break your nose.’ She made the move without anywhere near the strength to follow through with it.

‘Good, and if you can’t raise your leg without losing your balance?’

‘Try to punch up the heel of my palm under your nose or jaw to break one or both. Or cup both my hands over your ears really hard and fast to burst your eardrums.’

‘They’re all fine if she knows her attacker as well as she knows you,’ Darkin argued. ‘But she’s blind. How’s she going to cope with an attacker who’s less familiar? Different size, different height, if you get me?’

‘Spatial awareness,’ Mira replied. ‘I’m blind, not stupid. I can hear where a movement is coming from, and tell when a voice is pointed at or away from me.’

‘Acute ESP. Got it,’ Darkin quipped. ‘But if you want to make certain your attacker goes down for good, try spearing your knuckles up into his throat, or drive the heel of your palm against his Adam’s apple.’

‘They’re both kill shots,’ Lockman argued. ‘That’s what I’m for, if it comes to that.’

‘You can’t be with her twenty-four/seven, mate. Not even if you’re sleeping with her. So do her a favour. No jury in the world will convict a blind girl for defending herself.’

‘It’s not that,’ Mira said, defending Lockman instead. She could guess why he’d avoided teaching her that much. ‘I’ve been in a very dark place for a long time, so I know how to kill.’ She’d learned from watching convicts who’d been at Serenity over a century ago. ‘I haven’t been forced to do it yet, but I know, once I open that door, it only leads to a darker place with no way back.’ Saying it made her realise that Lockman had personal experience and she couldn’t help but wonder how he coped with it.