Sharp Shot (14 page)

“As few people as possible know what's really going on,”
Kate Hunter explained. “But we're on a tight schedule. We can't
afford to delay or change what's going on.”

“How long do we have?” asked Chance.

“Nine hours,” said Chuck.

“Nine hours till the bomb goes off?” said Jade.
“How do you know?”

“We don't,” Kate told her. “But nine hours is how
long we have to find it and neutralise the threat. Otherwise…”
She blew out a long breath.

“I have a team of agents coordinating things from here,”
Chuck went on. “The best thing you guys can do is probably get the
hell out of here.”

“Can't we help?” said Rich. “We want to stop this
as much as you do.”

“It's our job now,” Kate told him.

“Darrow is British,” said Jade, “and the threat is
to the people of East Araby, even if this is a US base. You could evacuate
everyone.”

“Not an option,” said Chuck. “Like Kate told you,
we're on a tight schedule. Any change now, and Crown Prince Ali's
propaganda guys will have a field day. They'll say that the King is in an
untenable position, and the US President is a weak-minded coward.”

“What's the President got to do with this?” asked Rich,
confused. “He's safe and sound in Washington, isn't he? I mean, he
agrees the funding and aid I suppose, but…” His voice tailed off
as he remembered something that Dex had told him when they first met
Chuck.

“What is it?” said Jade.

Rich was looking straight at Chuck. “You're not anything to do
with the CIA, are you? Dex told us that. Dad too.”

“That's right,” said Chuck quietly.

“So what?” said Jade. “They're National Security
or whatever. What difference does it make?”

Rich shook his head. “You're Secret Service, aren't you? For
some reason you thought Darrow was a threat even before all this.”

“You've got a bright kid there, John,” said Chuck.

“But the Secret Service,” said Jade, “don't they
just protect the President?”

“Two smart kids,” said Kate.

Dad was nodding. “Which means?” he prompted them
quietly.

“Nine hours,” Jade realised. “The President of the
United States is arriving
here
in nine hours?”

“To show support for the elections. He won't back off, he won't
change his plans,” Chuck told them. “If he cancels now and
the press gets wind of it, it'll look like he's abandoning King Hassan,
and the elections will lose all credibility. And if we announce that
there's a problem and explain what it is, well, that's as good as
surrendering to Prince Ali's faction.”

“Which means,” said Kate, “that we have a maximum
of nine hours to find a nuclear bomb the size of a small briefcase on an
airbase with several hundred buildings and 3,000 personnel. Or else we
risk the President getting blown up with then rest of us.”

The argument was inevitable, as was the outcome. Neither Jade nor Rich
was willing to leave. They both insisted on staying to help look for the
bomb.

Chance tried reasoning with them, he tried appealing to them, and he
tried yelling at them. Nothing worked.

Finally Jade said to him, “Are
you
leaving?”

“What?”

“Are you leaving, and going somewhere safe? Or are
you staying here on the base to look for the bomb?”

“I'm
staying,” Chance admitted.

“Fine. Then so are we,”
Jade told him.

“That's not an option.”

“An option is a
choice,” said Rich. “And we're
choosing to stay.
Look,” he went on quickly, “why are you staying?”

“Because we have to find that bomb,” Chance told him,
“and the more people who are looking, the more chance we have
of…” He stopped and sighed as he realised he was beaten.

“We'd better stay and help then,” said Rich.

“Rather than arguing about this,” added Jade,
“let's just do it.”

Two hours later, Rich was getting frustrated and nervous. He and Jade
had been assigned a part of the living areas to search. There wasn't time
for a full sweep, so their job was to knock on the doors of rooms in the
barracks where the US airmen lived.

If anyone was in, they showed Darrow's photograph and asked if
they'd seen him or anyone else unfamiliar in the last twenty-four hours.
If there was no answer, Rich and Jade checked for signs of entry. If there
were none, then they noted the address and a team would use a master key
to gain access and do a check later.

If there were signs of a forced entry, then Rich and Jade were to
find the nearest phone and call in immediately for a back-up team.

To get through the rooms quicker, they split up and worked
independently, but it was a thankless and fruitless task, ticking off each
room on a list as they checked it. Then they moved on to the next
accommodation block.

It was Jade who spotted him. To Rich, it was just a distant figure—
another US airman walking across the end of one of the runways. It looked
like he'd just come from the main hangers and was on his way back to the
main gates.

“That's him!” said Jade. “It's Darrow.”

“You can't tell from this distance,” Rich told her.

“I can. I spent enough time with that creep, and it's
definitely him. Look at the way he walks, the way he's looking round to
check no one's watching.”

“Maybe.” Rich wasn't convinced.

“I'm sure it is. Keep an eye on him. Don't let him out of your
sight.”

“Why? Where are you going?”

“I'm going to find Dad or Ardman or someone,” said Jade.

“Or a phone.”

“We call in, and they'll just think I'm a silly girl who's
jumping to conclusions.”

“Well…”

“See!” she exclaimed. “You think so too!”

Rich looked at his sister. Sure, she could be annoying, but one thing
she
wasn't
was a silly girl who jumped to conclusions. He
nodded. “If you're so sure, why do I have to watch him? Why can't I
go for help and do the cavalry bit and be a hero?”

Jade sighed. “Because I saw him and if I'm wrong I'll take the
heat. And more important, I'm faster than you.”

Rich couldn't argue with that. “OK. Be as quick as you can, and
I'll keep tabs on him.”

“Just don't let him see you,” Jade warned.

“As if.”

Rich watched the uniformed figure that Jade insisted was Darrow walk
across the end of a runway. In a few moments he would disappear among a
group of maintenance and storage buildings. Rich glanced back at Jade,
about to tell her he'd follow the figure. But Jade was already running
towards the main administration block.

It took Jade nearly ten minutes to find Ardman, who was deep in
conversation with Dex about the possible
options. A white board on the
wall of the office had a possible evacuation schedule drawn up. There were
various timings, some crossed out. But even from a glance, Jade saw that
the quickest evacuation plan would still take three days.

“You're sure it was Darrow?” asked Ardman as soon as
Jade finished speaking.

She was still trying to catch her breath from running. “Not
certain,” she gasped. “But pretty sure. Maybe eighty per
cent.”

“Good enough for me,” said Halford. “You go; I'll
slow you down with this damned leg. I'll call John and let him
know.”

They had barely left the building when a Jeep roared up beside them.
Jade was surprised to see her dad at the wheel.

“Get in!” he yelled. “Dex tells me you've spotted
Darrow.”

“Maybe,” said Jade, leaping into the back of the Jeep.
She pointed. “That way.”

“Where's Rich?” Chance called over his shoulder as
accelerated across the airfield.

“Don't ask,” said Ardman from the passenger seat.

“He's following Darrow,” shouted Jade above the
noise of the
engine. “So we don't lose him.”

“You sent Rich after an SAS-trained psycho-killer?”
Chance yelled back.

“He's only following him. I told him to stay out of sight and
not do anything daft.”

Ardman made a point of inspecting his fingernails.

“This is your brother we're talking about,” Chance
yelled back at Jade. “And you think he won't do anything
daft?”

“What were we supposed to do—just let Darrow walk away? Rich
will be all right.”

“I hope so. If Darrow spots Rich, the poor guy's in big
trouble!”

The Jeep bounced angrily across the edge of runway as Chance floored
the accelerator.

Rich kept to the shadows at the side of the buildings. He'd managed to
get close enough to the man he was following to see that it really could
be Darrow.

“Nice one, Jade,” he murmured as he followed the figure
between two brick-built storehouses.

The man paused and looked back, but Rich managed to duck into a
doorway. He waited a moment, then peered cautiously round the edge of the
wall. He caught the man's profile as he turned away. His cap was pulled
down low over his eyes and he was wearing sunglasses, but it was
definitely Darrow.

The question was, Rich thought, did he have the bomb with him? Or had
he already planted it? He didn't seem to be carrying anything, so he'd
probably already left it somewhere.

Rich hoped Jade wouldn't be long. Once out from this mini-maze of
buildings, they'd be on the main road off the base, just five minutes'
walk from the main gate.

If Darrow had a fake pass that could get him into the base, he'd
be able to get out too. Should Rich follow him off the base? Would he have
a car parked by the gate somewhere, or an accomplice waiting outside?
Maybe Prince Ali himself would be somewhere nearby, though more likely he
was miles away—partly as an alibi, and partly to be well out of the
blast area…

Turning all these things over in his mind, Rich rounded another
corner into a narrow alley.

The alley was empty. There was no sign of
Darrow.

Rich swore under his breath, and ran to the end of the alley. He
looked one way, then the other. Still no
sign of Darrow. In fact, there was no sign of anyone. Just another
narrow passage between two red brick buildings.

How could that happen? Rich was turning in bewilderment. He checked
both ways again. The distance was just too great. There was no way that
Darrow could have sprinted to the end of the passage that fast. The walls
were flat and unbroken—no doorways or even windows.

It was just impossible. There was nowhere at all to hide, even if
Darrow had spotted he was being followed. The passageway was only about a
metre and a half wide. If Rich spread his arms, they'd touch the sides. He
could probably brace himself between the two walls and climb up between
them.

“Oh…” Rich felt suddenly cold as the possibility
occurred to him.

He looked up.

Just in time to see Darrow braced between the two walls above his
head. Just in time to see Darrow pull his feet away from one wall and drop
towards Rich with the force of a sledgehammer.

The boy let out a yell of surprise as Darrow dropped
towards him. But
Darrow wasn't worried. He'd just have to make this quick, in case anyone
had heard. The boy was quick and he was resourceful—Darrow knew that
from experience. And he mustn't forget this was John Chance's son.

For old times' sake, then, Darrow decided he might let the boy live.
All he needed was a few minutes to get away.

The boy leaped aside as Darrow fell, but Darrow's boot crunched into
his shoulder and sent him sprawling. He tried to get up, but Darrow was
already on him. Darrow drew back his fist, but the constricted space was a
disadvantage now and he couldn't get a good swing. His elbow jarred
painfully on the brickwork, and the blow landed on the boy's chest.

It was enough to knock him down again and Darrow leaped at the kid,
pinning him down with his knee as he prepared for the final punch. The kid
was wriggling and fighting, and Darrow's next punch missed altogether,
slamming into the concrete paving and painfully grazing his knuckles.

“Hold still!” said Darrow.

But the kid rolled violently the other way, sending Darrow pitching
sideways. He was off balance as the
kid kicked out, knocking him over.
Darrow's cap and sunglasses fell to the ground.

Still, Darrow wasn't too worried. He was stronger, heavier, faster.
He leaped back to his feet, turning to face the boy.

A fist slammed into Darrow's jaw. It surprised him more than hurt
him. Then the boy lowered his head and charged. His shoulder caught Darrow
in the stomach and sent him reeling, but he held on to the boy, dragging
him down with him.

Somehow the boy was behind Darrow now, pinning him down with his knee
jammed in his back. That was a mistake. Darrow grinned, knowing the kid
couldn't see his face, and would have no warning as he prepared to heave
himself upwards and throw the kidhim off. He imagined the boy slamming
into the brick wall, maybe cracking his skull against it. Darrow braced
himself.

Then everything changed.

Something cold and metallic jammed painfully into Darrow's cheek. He
tried to turn to see what it was, but the boy grabbed his short hair.

“Hold still, or I'll blow your head off.”

He sounded serious. But there was no way…Was
there? The cold metal dug
into Darrow's skin—a gun?

“Don't be stupid,” said Darrow, keeping his voice calm.
“They'd never trust a kid like you with a gun.”

“Want to bet?”

Darrow laughed. He braced himself. It was a good bluff, but now Rich
would pay for it big time.

Then he heard the unmistakeable click-clack sound of a gun being
cocked, right by his ear.

Darrow froze.

Jade was out of the Jeep before it stopped moving.

“He was heading for those buildings,” she said.

“The main gate is just beyond, it's a short cut,” Ardman
told her. “Unless Rich managed to slow him down somehow we may be
too late.”

“They'll stop him at the gate,” said Chance. “I
hope.”

“
If
they recognise him,” said Ardman.
He didn't sound optimistic.

Then they all heard the shout of surprise and fear from ahead of
them.

“That was Rich!” Jade was sprinting for the buildings.

There was a narrow alley between them. She was
sure the cry had come from
there. She raced along, guessing each turn as she sprinted through the
warren of alleys and passages. Finally, she turned into a passageway and
skidded to a halt in surprise.

Chance and Ardman were close behind. They, too, stopped as they took
in the scene in front of them.

Darrow was lying face down on the ground. Rich was holding the
stainless steel ballpoint pen he'd been using to mark their progress in
the search of the rooms. He had the blunt end of it pressed hard into
Darrow's cheek.

In his other hand he was holding the metal beetle he'd won on the
Hook-a-Duck game at
Boscombe Heights
. The one that made
the annoying click-clack noise.

“Like I said,” Chance told them, “the poor guy's
in big trouble.” He walked slowly over to where Darrow was lying
and drew a pistol from inside his jacket. “And believe me, Darrow,
your trouble's only just beginning.”