The Lethal Target (16 page)

‘Wait until they’ve moved away,’ he whispered, gesturing upwards towards the cliff top.

‘Say they don’t?’ asked Jake.

‘They will,’ said Robbie. ‘When you’re doing a search, you don’t just stay in one place. They’ve been on the cliff path for a good while now. They’re bound to move further inland in a minute or two.’

‘If they do, maybe we could still make it along the water’s edge in the boat?’ suggested Lauren. ‘Land somewhere nearer the path to your place?’

‘Not a good idea,’ whispered back Robbie. ‘They’ll definitely have people watching all the paths to our place. That’s where they’ll expect us to go. And if we stay too close to the shore, there’s a chance they’ll hear the oars.’

‘So Patrick’s Island sounds the safest place for us at this moment,’ said Jake.

‘If we can get there,’ added Lauren fearfully.

The three stood in the darkness of the cliff, tense, hands on the edge of the small boat, listening. After an agonising wait, as Robbie had predicted, they heard the voices of the Russians move away from the cliff path directly above them as the search headed inland.

‘Now!’ whispered Robbie urgently.

They pushed at the boat, the feeling of fear inside each giving them extra strength, and the rowing boat slid over the shingle. Almost immediately they were up to their calves in the cold water.

‘Get in!’

Jake and Lauren clambered aboard the boat, and Robbie continued pushing it further out into the water until he was up to his waist, before he climbed aboard with them.

He slotted the two oars into the rowlocks, and began heading out, using long strokes. Jake was impressed by the way the blades of the oars cut through the water, pushing the boat along, but without any splashing noises. Jake knew that if
he’d
tried rowing, there would have been a lot of splashing going on, and the beams from the torches would have soon been shining on them, followed by a hail of bullets.

Robbie continued rowing, pulling hard at the oars. Jake looked back towards the shore, and now he could see on the cliff top the criss-crossing of beams of light, and even from this distance they could hear voices raised. As he watched, he saw the beams of light from torches appear from around the headland and move along the shore towards the very narrow cave they’d come out of just a brief while before. Other beams of light were moving along the shore from the other direction, from the direction of the guest house.

We’d have been caught if we’d stayed on shore, reflected Jake. Well done, Robbie.

They were lucky that there were clouds in the sky, obscuring the moon, otherwise they’d have made a sitting target. As it was, Jake felt nervous the whole time they were out on the water, exposed. All the time he was waiting for a torch beam to turn their way and pick them out, and guns to begin firing.

Jake kept his eyes fixed on the Russians on the cliffs. The lights from their torches were specks now, small from this distance.

‘We’re coming in to land,’ whispered Lauren beside him.

Jake turned his head and saw the heavily wooded tiny island fast approaching. Robbie stopped rowing strongly, and let the small boat drift in. As they felt the sand and shingle beneath them pull the boat to a halt, Robbie dropped the oars and leapt out into the water.

‘Come on,’ he said. ‘We’ve got to get it out of sight.’

Jake and Lauren dropped overboard and joined Robbie in the water, which was past their knees. The coldness of it took Jake’s breath away.

The three of them worked together to drag the small boat up on to the shore, and then continued dragging it over shingle into the thick wood that came right down to the beach.

Robbie disappeared into the wood, and reappeared dragging branches, which he proceeded to put over the boat, concealing it further.

‘We’ll stay near the shore until just before dawn comes,’ he told the other two. ‘If you try and scramble through this wood in the dark, there’s a chance you’ll put your foot in a hole and twist your ankle.’

They settled down in the cover of the trees.

‘I’m freezing,’ said Jake, indicating his soaking-wet trousers.

‘You’ll be even colder if you take them off,’ advised Robbie. ‘The best thing you can do is keep them on and let them dry on you once the sun starts to come up.’

‘I wonder when the police will be starting the search?’ asked Jake.

‘My guess is mid-morning,’ said Robbie. ‘Remember, they have to wait for the tides to bring the boats over from the mainland.’

‘So all we have to do is stay hidden until the search starts.’ Lauren nodded.

‘And hope we can get their attention so they get to us before the Russians do,’ added Jake.

Chapter 23

They took turns to keep watch, one awake and watching the far shore while the other two slept. At least, that was the theory, but Jake couldn’t sleep. Too much had happened, and now the Russians were just a short distance away, searching for them. The Russians would be after the book. For a fleeting moment Jake thought about giving it back to them, that might save their lives. Then he dismissed the idea. The Russians — or Muir — had already killed to protect the search for the book. Jake was sure there would be no mercy shown to them if Muir and the Russians caught them. They’d be as good as dead, whether they handed over the book or not.

He stayed awake for the rest of the night, closing his eyes now and then and hoping to rest, but every tiny noise made his eyes open and his body jerk up and shoot a look towards the shore. It was a relief when the first streaks of light began to break up the night sky as dawn arrived.

Lauren was on watch, and Jake saw her straining her eyes over the water, to where the search was still continuing.

‘What’s happening?’ he asked.

‘Nothing,’ said Lauren.

‘We need to go inland now,’ said Robbie’s voice behind them. ‘Up to higher ground.’

Jake turned to him.

‘Did you get any sleep?’ he asked.

Robbie shook his head.

‘No,’ he said. ‘You two?’

Both Jake and Lauren shook their heads.

‘Too much adrenalin pumping,’ said Lauren.

‘Well, let’s hope tiredness doesn’t slow us down,’ said Robbie. ‘Now it’s daylight, we’re going to need to be on our guard more than ever.’

He made his way into the dense woodland that fringed the tiny island, and Jake and Lauren followed him as he pushed his way between trees and bushes.

The ground rose sharply, and they found themselves climbing. Robbie stopped when they came to a scattering of stones in a clearing. Some of the stones were lying about on the ground, others were heaped in piles.

‘What’s this?’ asked Jake.

‘Patrick’s house,’ said Robbie. ‘The island is called Patrick’s Island after a hermit who lived here hundreds and hundreds of years ago. Some reckon it was Saint Patrick himself, but I don’t think so. Anyway, the stones are all that’s left of his house.’ He pointed upwards. ‘From up there we’ll be able to get a good view of Mull, and we might be able to signal from here once we see the search parties.’

They climbed higher, on open ground now, and as they rose above the trees they saw that Robbie was right, they could see right across the water to the island of Mull, and the shore they’d left from under cover of darkness. There was action going on at that same spot, people milling around, and what looked like a red boat.

‘What’s happening?’ asked Lauren.

‘It’s a RIB,’ said Robbie. ‘Rigid inflatable. The coastguard use them.’

‘So the search has started already!’ said Jake brightly. ‘Excellent!’

‘No,’ Robbie corrected him. ‘Those are the Russians. It means they’ve worked out where we went. They’re on their way here.’

‘How did they work that out?’ asked Lauren.

‘They must have found the marks our boat made when we pushed it to the sea, and realised that this is the only place we could have made it to.’

‘What are we going to do?’ asked Lauren, her voice showing her alarm. ‘Get back to our boat?’

‘Waste of time,’ said Robbie, shaking his head. ‘They’ll overtake us easily, and out on the water in that boat we’d be sitting ducks.’

‘And there’s no sign of the search parties!’ said Lauren desperately.

‘I’ve got an idea,’ said Jake. ‘I hang my jacket somewhere up here, so they can see it fluttering through the trees. That’ll bring them up here. Meanwhile, we get back down near the shore and hide there. When they come up here, we grab their boat.’

‘That’s crazy!’ protested Lauren. ‘They’re bound to leave someone guarding the boat, and they’ll be armed!’

‘You got a better idea?’ asked Jake.

They looked towards the far shore. People were getting into the inflatable. Even from this distance, they could make out the tall figure of Professor Lemski and the short squatness of Dmitri. Dmitri was getting into the boat with three other people. They all looked as if they were carrying rifles.

‘OK,’ said Jake. ‘Here they come. Time to get down to the shore and find a place to hide.’

He slipped off his jacket and draped it from the branch of a tree at the edge of the clearing. Then he, Lauren and Robbie hurried back the way they had come, downhill towards the wooded shore.

Chapter 24

Jake, Lauren and Robbie crouched down behind the cover of the trees and bushes, their eyes on the approaching boat. Jake could see the stocky figure of Dmitri standing up, binoculars to his eyes, scanning the island. Then Jake saw him raise his arm and point and give a shout to the three other men in the boat.

‘He’s seen my coat,’ whispered Jake.

They crouched down even lower, hardly daring to breathe, as the boat came in to land, crashing into the shingle of the beach. The four men leapt out, all of them armed with automatic rifles. Dmitri shouted orders in Russian, and then he and two of the others began to head up towards the top of the island.

‘Looks like they’ve fallen for it,’ whispered Jake.

‘But how do we deal with him?’ asked Lauren anxiously.

Jake looked at the man left to guard the boat. Jake saw what Lauren meant. He was tall, powerful-looking, and he seemed very comfortable in the way he held his automatic rifle. He was also very alert, his head moving this way and that as he scanned the shore and the foliage for any sign of movement.

‘It’s about thirty metres to the boat,’ groaned Jake. ‘Too far away for us to take a run at him. He’ll shoot us down before we reach him.’

‘It’s either that, or wait for Dmitri and his pals to come back down and find us,’ said Lauren sombrely.

‘There may be another way,’ said Robbie. He bent down and picked up a stone. ‘When we were kids, me and Rona used to play targets. We’d throw stones at things and see who could hit the most.’

‘Who won?’ asked Jake.

‘Usually Rona,’ admitted Robbie ruefully. ‘She’d hit the targets nine times out of ten. But I was pretty good too. I’d hit them six times out of ten.’

‘Six?’ said Jake, worried. ‘That’s not very good odds.’

‘As Rona’s not here, those are the only odds we’ve got,’ said Robbie. He weighed the stone in his hand, testing it. ‘And his head’s bigger than most of the things we threw stones at.’

‘Yes, but your targets didn’t keep moving the way he is,’ pointed out Jake, as the man began to prowl on the shore in front of the boat. ‘And I bet you didn’t have to throw them while in hiding.’

‘Stop being so negative, Jake!’ hissed Lauren. ‘Like Robbie says, it’s our only chance.’

‘That’s what worries me,’ said Jake.

From high up on the island, they heard shouting in Russian.

‘Dmitri must have spotted it was just a jacket,’ said Jake.

‘In which case, now’s the time,’ said Robbie.

Suddenly he stepped out of their hiding place. The armed man on the shore must have heard the rustle of leaves, because he swung round towards their position, the rifle coming to bear on them, just as Robbie threw the stone.

Smack!

The stone hit the man full on the forehead. He stumbled backwards, and then collapsed, dropping the rifle.

Even before he fell, Jake, Robbie and Lauren were running towards the inflatable. As Robbie jumped into the boat, Jake stopped and scooped up the man’s rifle. He checked the man. He was breathing, but out cold.

Jake threw the rifle into the boat, then he and Lauren pushed the boat off the shore and into deeper water. Robbie started the engine and Jake and Lauren threw themselves aboard.

Angry shouts from the top of the island told them they’d been spotted. Robbie opened the throttle and the boat raced away, heading out into the water and along the channel towards the path that led up to the guest house, away from the Russians’ cottage. Behind them they heard gunfire from Patrick’s Island. Immediately, Robbie began to zigzag the boat as bullets hit the water around them.

Robbie opened the throttle even wider and the boat sped along, leaping out of the water at points and then aquaplaning. Suddenly Robbie gave a cry of pain and fell forward, face first into the body of the boat, and the engine slowed.