The Lethal Target (15 page)

‘He’s going to inject us with some stuff he’s made,’ said Lauren. ‘The formula was in the book. If it works, we’ll burst into flames.’

Robbie looked shocked.

‘That was what the book was about?’

Lauren nodded.

‘Yes,’ she said. ‘And now it’s out in the open.’

Robbie shook his head.

‘That’s not possible,’ he said. ‘There’s no such thing. It won’t work.’

‘Oh yes there is,’ said Lemski. ‘We’ve been conducting experiments along this line for some time in Russia. Our big problem has been the time it takes for the reaction to happen. Too long. It allows time for our enemies to take some kind of action against us before combustion happens.’ He tapped the open book. ‘We’re about to find out if Disciorides has the answer to that problem.’

‘So can we finally do it?’ demanded Muir impatiently.

‘Yes.’ Lemski nodded. He looked at Robbie, and at Lauren. ‘The question now is, which one of you goes first.’

‘Do them both,’ said Muir.

‘No,’ said Lemski. ‘We need to keep one in reserve to double-check the results.’ He said something in Russian, and two of the Russians left the room. Muir frowned.

‘What’s happening?’ he said. ‘Why have you sent them to set up the byre? What’s wrong with doing it here?’

Professor Lemski looked at him with the air of someone lecturing a not very bright pupil.

‘This room has wooden panelling, wooden floors, and wooden supports for the ceiling. Do you really think it a good idea to start a fire in here?’

‘But spontaneous human combustion is supposed to happen without damaging the area immediately around,’ said Muir.

‘And you think it worth taking that chance?’ asked Lemski sarcastically. ‘The byre is made of stone. Perfectly safe.’ He said something in Russian to the two remaining men, and then gestured to Muir. ‘Come, let us make sure that everything is ready for the experiment. And while we do that, we can discuss which of these two will be our first guinea pig.’

Muir hesitated. He was obviously keen to get going, inject either Lauren or Robbie at once, but then he shrugged and left the room. Just before Lemski followed him, Lemski gave a last order in Russian; then the professor went out, pulling the door shut after him.

As Jake watched, the taller of the two men went to a cupboard and produced a roll of tape. Jake guessed they were going to gag Lauren and Robbie to stop them shouting out. Not that there was much chance of anyone hearing them at this remote spot; but they would have to drag them across open ground to the byre outside, and there was more chance of a shout for help being heard.

The tall man with the tape went to Lauren first and tried to tape over her mouth, but Lauren kept moving her head left and right, dodging. The tall man swore and tried to hold her head still with one hand and put the tape on with the other, but Lauren continued jerking her head around so it became an impossible task for the man. The tall man snapped something in Russian, and the other man, the shorter of the two, went to Lauren and grasped her head in both hands to hold it secure.

This is my only chance! thought Jake. It’s now or never! He picked up one of the dusty bottles, kicked open the cupboard door, and hurled himself into the room, swinging the bottle down hard on the head of the tall man. The bottle smashed and the tall man collapsed. The shorter man gaped at Jake, shocked by his sudden appearance. And then he reached for the gun in his holster.

Desperately, Jake snatched up the nearest object, the hypodermic needle lying on the table, and hurled it at the man with all his might. The long needle went through the man’s shirt into his chest. The man stumbled and fell backwards, and in an effort to regain his balance reached out towards Robbie, but he fell and banged the plunger of the hypodermic against the bound boy’s arm.

The man looked down at the hypodermic sticking out of him, the plunger now pressed in. He fell back, pulling at the hypodermic, tearing it out of his body, but even as he did so smoke began to rise from his skin. He screamed, a shrilly dreadful noise, and then his scream was cut off as smoke poured out of his mouth and nostrils . . . and then there was a blinding white flash, and his body was enveloped in flames.

Jake was only aware of this out of the corner of his eye, he was already using the sharp glass from the broken bottle to cut through the ropes that tied Lauren to the chair. As she came free, he turned his attention to Robbie.

Lauren stumbled to her feet, and Jake saw that her eyes were fixed in horror on the burning man, covered in flames from his ankles to the top of his head.

‘Help me!’ Jake urged her. Lauren snapped out of her trance, snatching up another piece of broken glass and set to work cutting the ropes around Robbie’s ankles as Jake freed the boy’s wrists. Outside, they could hear running footsteps approaching.

‘The table!’ yelled Jake.

Together, the three of them dragged the table across the room and placed it in front of the door. They were just in time; the door bulged inwards as weight was thrown against it. From outside came angry shouts in Russian, and then Muir’s voice calling, ‘What the hell’s going on?’

Jake gave the table one last push into place as Lauren snatched up the book, and followed Robbie, running for the cupboard, and the secret back entrance to the tunnel. Not that it was a secret any longer; the cupboard door was hanging open and shattered from Jake’s kick. And there was no time to slip the back of the cupboard into place; the enemy would be inside this room any moment. As Jake turned to follow Lauren and Robbie, there was the deafening sound of gunfire. Splinters of wood tore into the room from the door and Jake felt something rip at his jacket. A bullet! Jake hurled himself forward across the room, into the cupboard, as more bullets were fired blindly from the other side of the door.

As Jake dived into the tunnel, he heard a crash as the table was smashed back. They were in the room! By then he was running, almost falling down the stone steps of the tunnel, aware that their enemies were now very close behind them, armed, and ready to kill.

Chapter 22

Jake half ran, half fell down the stone steps of the tunnel, running blind and crashing into the rock walls.

He pulled the torch from his pocket and shone it on the steps, and hurried down, following the beam as it twisted and turned, stumbling in his urgency to get away. Behind him he could hear shouts in Russian, orders being given, and then heavy footsteps on rock.

Jake pushed himself to go faster, and as he did so he felt something grab him by the jacket and drag him to one side.

‘Turn off the torch!’ rasped a voice in his ear. Robbie.

Jake switched it off, and felt himself being dragged further into what seemed to be some kind of dead-end niche off the steeply stepped tunnel.

Lights blazed as the beams of torches lit up the tunnel, casting flickering shadows at the edge of their hiding place. Then the sound of boots crashing on the stone steps raced past them, heading down. As the lights disappeared, Jake found himself standing in pitch-blackness.

Robbie waited for a few minutes, then he whispered, ‘Give me your torch.’

Jake handed him the torch, and Robbie switched it on and shone it into the narrow niche where they were standing. Jake saw Lauren further along, and — beyond her — a very, very narrow crevice. Robbie shone his torch into this crevice, and Jake realised it was a tunnel, even narrower than the tunnel he’d gone through to get to the cupboard.

‘We go this way,’ whispered Robbie. ‘Stay close behind me, and watch your footing. It’s a bit narrow in places, but we should all make it through.’

Jake and Lauren followed Robbie, staying close to him as instructed, as they squeezed and pushed their way between slimy wet rock faces.

‘This comes out on the other side of the headland,’ said Robbie. ‘Rona and I used to play in it when we were small.’

‘Didn’t your parents ever get worried about you, doing this?’ asked Lauren. ‘You could have got lost or trapped.’

‘We never told them,’ said Robbie.

They moved on, down, down, down, the rocks slippery underfoot. At times the passage became so narrow that Jake was worried he wouldn’t be able to make it through the small openings.

‘How much longer?’ he whispered.

‘Nearly there,’ replied Robbie.

Suddenly Jake became aware that the gaps seemed to be widening.

‘I’m going to turn off the torch,’ whispered Robbie. ‘We’re coming to the point where the cave goes out to the shore. That light will give us away.’

He switched the torch off, and they were plunged into blackness.

‘I can’t see,’ complained Jake.

‘Give it a minute or two to allow your eyes to adjust,’ said Robbie.

The three of them stood there, in the darkness, and slowly Jake saw what Robbie meant: a trickle of very faint light was coming along the tunnel.

‘OK,’ said Robbie. ‘Move slowly. Watch where you walk. And keep quiet.’

Robbie led the way, Lauren and Jake following, as they crept slowly along the last few metres of narrow rock tunnel. Now the ambient light of night from outside guided them as they saw the opening of the cave, and the sea ahead of them.

They reached the edge of the cave and stood, listening. Above them on the cliff top they could hear shouting, and they saw the night sky being lit up.

‘They’re using torches,’ whispered Robbie.

Even as he spoke, a beam of light from a powerful torch above them hit the shingle beach right in front of the cave opening. It lingered there, then moved on.

‘We can’t get back to the house this way,’ whispered Robbie. ‘They’ll spot us for sure.’

‘What about the other cave?’ asked Jake. ‘The one they thought they were following us down?’

‘That comes out on the other side of the headland,’ said Robbie.

‘So they’ll come round the headland and come to this cave?’ asked Lauren.

Robbie nodded.

‘They could also come back through that tunnel and find the way we came, down that side-tunnel,’ murmured Jake.

‘Whatever they do, if we stay here, they’ll find us,’ said Robbie.

‘And if we try to make it along the shore, their torches will pick us out,’ said Jake.

‘We’re trapped,’ whispered Lauren.

‘You forget, this is the twenty-first century,’ said Jake. ‘Mobile phones.’

‘They took mine off me,’ said Lauren.

‘And mine,’ said Robbie.

‘But they didn’t take mine,’ said Jake.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out his mobile phone, and then his face fell. The bullet that had hit his jacket had smashed his phone beyond repair.

Outside, they could hear more urgent shouting in Russian.

‘OK,’ admitted Jake unhappily. ‘We’re trapped.’

‘Maybe there’s a chance,’ murmured Robbie.

‘What is it?’ asked Jake.

‘There’s a rowing boat just along the shore. Just a small one. It’s Dougie’s, but he hardly ever used it.’ In the half-light Jake saw a wistful smile cross Robbie’s face. ‘He preferred boats with engines.’

‘You’re suggesting we row to somewhere further along the shore?’ asked Jake.

‘No.’ Robbie shook his head. ‘They’ll be watching for us all the way along the shore. I’m thinking we row out to Patrick’s Island.’

‘Where’s that?’ asked Lauren.

‘It’s a very small island about a mile offshore. If we make it, we can hide out there until we see the search parties come out tomorrow, and get their attention.’

‘What search parties?’ queried Lauren.

‘Police, coastguard, search and rescue, and other volunteers,’ explained Jake. ‘Looking for you.’

‘Dad said they’ll be starting out tomorrow morning,’ Robbie added.

‘What are the chances of us reaching this boat alive and getting away?’ asked Lauren.

‘It’s the only one we’ve got,’ said Robbie. ‘If we stay here, we’ll be killed. If we try and make it along the shore, we’ll be killed.’

‘The boat it is.’ Jake nodded.

‘Stay close to the cliffs,’ Robbie ordered them. ‘There’s a bit of an overhang that should hide us from their torches until we get to the boat.’

‘And once we get to the boat?’ asked Lauren.

Robbie gave a doubtful sigh.

‘Then, it’s up to good luck,’ he said.

They crept along the shingle, hugging close to the cliff, all too aware of the voices above them calling to one another in Russian, and the torch beams shining down on the shore just a metre away from them. They hardly dared breathe in case it might be heard by the people hunting them.

Finally, they came to the rowing boat tied to a wooden post hammered into the beach. Even here, the beams of torches were still searching for them, light coming down from above and scanning the shore just a few metres away. They stood, hiding, until after what seemed an age the torchlights moved away inland. Immediately, Robbie darted out and set to work unfastening the mooring rope. When it was free, he gestured to Jake and Lauren to stand ready to help push the small boat across the shingle to the water.