Sharp Shot (4 page)

“We made it,” said Rich. “Amazing.”

“Well done,” Jade told McCain. “Now perhaps you'll
tell us what's going on.”

“Got some bad guys after me,” said McCain.

“We'd never have guessed,” said Rich.

“
Really
bad guys. The worst. I was hoping John
—your dad—could help me out.”

“I'm sure he would,” said Jade, “but he's away
on…business.”

“I can imagine,” said McCain, with a tight smile. The
smile faded as he glanced over his shoulder, past Jade and Rich standing
by the driver's seat. “Sorry—looks like we spoke too soon.”

Jade turned to look. A pair of powerful headlights
was scything through the darkness behind them.

“Could just be
someone out for a drive,” said Rich.

The car clipped a hedge as it
took a corner too fast
and too wide. A bullet slammed into the back of the tractor.

“Or
not,” Rich conceded, ducking down with Jade into as much cover as
they could find.

“They must have had a second car,” said
McCain. “And it looks like this one is going to catch us.”

The car was weaving back and forth across the road as it came up
behind them. But the tractor was so wide and the lane so narrow that there
was no way past.

“Only a matter of time before they hit a tyre,” said
Rich. “Or one of us.”

“Any suggestions?” asked Jade, her voice cracking.
They'd been in trouble before—several times, in fact, since they'd come
to live with their dad. But this was every bit as serious as it got.

A bullet ripped into the metal cage surrounding the cab, making them
both duck down even further. McCain was hunched over the steering wheel.

Up ahead, at the limit of the headlights, Rich could make out a dark
patch in the high hedge. It might be
an opening. “Go right!”
he yelled, as he saw it was a single-track lane leading off at right
angles.

McCain spun the heavy wheel, the tractor squealed as it turned. There
was a smell of burning rubber as the tyres bit into the roadway. For a
moment it looked like they weren't going to make it. Then the tractor
punched through the side of the hedge. Branches and leaves raked through
the cab, scratching Rich's face.

In a moment, they were through. The tractor roared as fast as it
would go along the even narrower track. There was grass growing in the
middle, and the gravel had worn away. The track was cratered with
potholes.

In the road behind, the pursuing car screeched, engine protesting as
it tried to follow. And failed. There was an ear-splitting crash as it
buried itself in the hedge.

But at once it was reversing, lining up and hurtling down the track
after them.

“Farm buildings,” Jade shouted, pointing off to the
left.

The track swung in a shallow curve round towards the farm. But McCain
headed straight for the buildings—across a ploughed field. The tractor
lurched and bumped. There was no way the car could follow
them—it would
have to take the long route. McCain
killed the headlights.

“No point in telling them exactly where we are.”

But even as he finished speaking, there was a flash of lightning,
illuminating the scene brightly.

“Even the gods are on their side,” Rich complained.
“And any second we're going to get soaked.”

“Better than getting shot,” Jade told him.

The buildings loomed closer, silhouetted against the deep grey sky.
There was a farmhouse, several barns, outbuildings and a cattle shed.

“Can we double back?” Jade wondered. “Get back to
the road?”

“They might have another car, waiting,” said McCain.
“And it'll take too long to turn round.”

The tractor bumped up on to a paved courtyard outside the farmhouse.
Chickens flew up in surprise and fright as the tractor woke them.

“No lights in the house,” Rich realised. Now they were
closer he could see it was in the process of being rebuilt. “Nobody
home.”

“Probably no phone either,” Jade complained. “Can
you get a signal?”

Rich had been trying. He'd called Ardman, their
dad's boss, but the phone
wasn't connecting. Maybe it was being jammed somehow, but most likely it
was just rubbish coverage in the countryside. He checked again.
“Nothing. You getting anything?”

“Who knows,” Jade told him. “My phone's charging
up back at the cottage.”

Rich didn't like to think about when he'd last charged his phone.

The lights from the car seemed a long way back. They'd gained some
time, but the car would soon catch them up. Rain was falling heavily now—
large drops angled in and quickly drenched Rich.

“Right,” McCain announced. “Time to lose
ourselves.” He turned the tractor towards the group of
outbuildings.

The nearest building was a Dutch barn—barely more than a roof
supported by metal pillars. Hay and bags of fertilizer were stacked
inside, but there was room for the tractor between them. Once through the
barn, Rich could see the lights from the car crossing the courtyard behind
them, picking out the bales of hay.

McCain turned the tractor towards another barn. This one was a proper
building, the doors standing open.

“What if there's no way out?” said Jade.

“Let's hope there is.”

“Good plan,” she muttered.

The barn was full of farm machinery. The tractor scraped past ploughs
and seed drills; a combine harvester. There were doors at the back—
mercifully standing open like those at the front.

“Don't think much of the farmer's security,” McCain
shouted above the sound of the tractor echoing round the barn.

“He's in the middle of nowhere,” Rich pointed out.

Outside the barn, a grassy bank led down steeply into a large field.
The edges were lost in darkness. Water was already running off the paved
area and down the slope as the rain got even heavier. As soon as they were
out of the back of the barn, McCain turned the tractor so it was hidden
behind the building. The car's lights spilled out of the barn as it
approached.

“Out—quick!” McCain ordered. He had to shout over the
sound of the engine, the thunder, and the pounding of the rain.

As soon as they were out of the tractor, McCain spun the wheel,
pointing the tractor down the slope into the field. Guessing what he was
doing, Rich
grabbed a brick from a pile holding the barn doors
open.

“This any good?”

McCain smiled a thank you, and took the brick. He braced himself
against the door of the cab as he wedged the brick down on the
accelerator. The tractor started to move off, gathering speed, and McCain
jumped clear. He rolled like a paratrooper, coming up quickly and running
with Rich and Jade for the next building.

Seconds later, the car emerged from the barn behind them, speeding
after the tractor as it careered down the hill into the field, skidding
and slewing in the mud.

“They'll soon find it's empty,” said Jade.

“But they won't know where we jumped ship, or even if we all
got out at the same time,” McCain pointed out. “With luck
they'll assume we bailed out in the field somewhere and legged it. The
rain will make it hard for them to find any tracks or see very
far.”

“But they'll come looking,” said Rich. “We need a
really good hiding place, and we need it fast.”

The farmhouse would have been the most
comfortable, but also the most
obvious hiding place. Rich was getting tired and he was willing to risk it
—their pursuers would probably assume they had jumped off the tractor in
the field and escaped into the darkness. But McCain was more cautious.
“Not the house. Unless you want to wake up with someone's gun to
your head.”

There was a small hayloft above the barn. Rich was lucky to find the
ladder up to it in the dark. The only light was from his mobile phone, and
the battery wouldn't last much longer. He needed to preserve it till he
could get a signal and call for help. They climbed up the rickety wooden
ladder, pulling it up behind them.

It didn't seem that the hayloft was used any more. But there was
enough straw and old sacking to gather together into three makeshift
mattresses. They positioned themselves so they had a good view down over
the farm machinery below. The rain was hammering on the bare tiles just
above them. Water trickled in where the roof needed mending.

“What if they come back?” said Jade.

“Stay hidden,” said McCain. “There's no way they
can know where we are. When it's light, and we can see what we're doing,
we'll make a break for it. Maybe flag
down a car in the lane outside. But
I don't fancy trying to find civilisation in this.” His words were
punctuated by another flash of lightning.

“The farmhouse is being renovated,” said Rich.
“There must be builders, workmen, someone to look after those
chickens if nothing else.”

“And if they come back and do find us?” Jade insisted.

Rich pointed to the combine harvester below. “We'll use that.
It's a step up from a tractor, and we can give them a damned good
threshing!”

Jade stifled a smile. “Let's hope they don't come back then, if
bad jokes are all we've got going for us.”

“We should get some sleep,” said McCain. “I've a
feeling it's going to be a busy and tiring day tomorrow.”

Despite the situation, Rich managed to doze. He woke with straw
poking painfully into his ear, and the first light of day creeping through
the holes in the roof where the water had come through during the night.
The rain had stopped and the morning was bright and clear.

Rich's phone still had no signal, but there was enough light to get a
decent picture with the camera.
So he pulled out the photograph of Dad, Dex Halford, Ferdy McCain and
the other soldier, and smoothed it out. The rain hadn't been kind to it,
and the edges were ragged. But he managed to get a decent photo of the
snapshot on his phone camera.

Then he wrote a quick text message to Dex Halford and sent it
together with the photo: “jade & me with mccain big trouble
help!” Of course, it didn't get sent as there was no signal. But as
soon as there was, he knew it would go. Not that it would do much good if
he couldn't talk to Halford, but with luck Halford would call him back and
the call would get through. Although Rich had no idea where they were, so
asking for help might not be so useful…

McCain was already awake, sitting behind a bale of hay looking out
down into the barn. As Rich joined him, he put his finger to his lips and
pointed down into the barn. Rich could see the silhouette of a man against
the open doors, the low morning sunlight streaming past him.

“Farmer?” Rich whispered.

McCain shook his head. The figure moved slightly, looking round the
barn, and Rich could see now that he was holding a handgun.

“Perhaps he's out shooting rabbits,” Jade's voice
whispered in Rich's ear. She took shelter behind the hay bale with Rich
and McCain, and together they watched the man making his way slowly
through the maze of farm machinery.

He moved with practised ease, gun at the ready. His movements were
slow and measured, with sudden bursts of speed as he checked each and
every possible hiding place methodically and with professional care.

At one point, as he stepped back from inspecting the combine
harvester, the man glanced up. Rich was pretty sure they were hidden in
the shadows, but even so he drew back. Beside him Jade mirrored his
movement. But McCain stayed exactly where he was, as if daring the man to
see him.

The man was wearing an expensive-looking dark suit with a white shirt
and modest tie. His hair was black, slicked back and oiled. His face was
pale brown, and weathered like old stone. One of his eyebrows ended
abruptly above the eye, continuing as a pale scar that curled down his
left cheek.

For several moments he stared up at the hay loft. Rich was sure he
could see McCain, but abruptly the
man turned away and continued his
search of the barn below.

After what seemed an age, the man left the barn. Rich could hear
voices outside, then the distant sound of a car.

“Think we're OK?” asked Jade.

“Think we had a lucky escape,” Rich told her. “But
we should get out of here.”

“Agreed,” said McCain. “And despite what Rich
thinks, I don't fancy making a break for it on a combine harvester, so
let's see what the alternatives are.”

There was a garage behind the farmhouse. Rich thought it would
probably be filled with more farm machinery, but instead there as a dirty
green Range Rover. They all climbed inside. Rich and Jade got in the back,
leaving McCain alone in the front.

“You still haven't told us who these people are and what they
want,” said Jade to McCain as he got the engine started. She was
leaning forward, over the back of the passenger seat.

“Not much to tell,” he admitted. “They're not nice
people, as you've probably gathered. And they want money. Simple as
that.”

“What did you do to upset them?” Rich wondered.

“They paid me to do a job. I was unable to complete it, through
no fault of my own. They want their money back.”

He put the Range Rover into gear and reversed it out of the garage on
to the courtyard.

“Maybe you should just pay them their money,” said Jade
as they started down the track to the lane.

“Maybe I should. But I've spent it. They're not very happy
about that.”

“We could tell,” said Rich. “So why come to
Dad?”

“He's a useful guy when you're in a tight spot. And he has
connections that might help. I was hoping he could bargain for me, get me
more time.”

“Ardman might help,” said Rich.

“Dad's boss,” said Jade quickly, glaring at Rich.
“He has connections too.”

They turned out on to the lane, heading the same way as they had the
night before.

“Best not go back to your cottage. They might be watching
it.”

“I'll call Ardman,” said Rich. “As soon as I can
get a signal. Hey—have you got a mobile?” If McCain's was with a
different operator he might have a signal.

But McCain shook his head. “I left home in a bit of a hurry.
Didn't have time to pick it up.”

“Tell me about it,” said Jade.

Rich checked his mobile again. His text message was no longer in the
outbox, so he hoped that meant it had been sent. But he didn't say
anything. Best not to raise their hopes until he was sure there was a good
reason.

They drove for over half an hour before they saw another vehicle. It
was still very early in the morning and the country lanes were empty. A
silver Mercedes pulled out of a side road behind them. It kept its
distance. The car was still with them as they reached the outskirts of a
village.