The Fallen Read online

  ‘Bring your girlfriend here,’ he told Neil, as he pushed Jade face-first against the side of the Land Cruiser.

  Frustration surged through Jade. Damn it, she needed to get out of here, and fast—in fact, she should have tried to escape as soon as she realised that Neil’s security had been compromised. That was what she’d been trained to do. There will never be a better opportunity than the first one—and once the bad guys have got you where they want you, there will usually be no chance at all.

  But Jade hadn’t had a chance. There hadn’t been one moment where escape would not have equalled potential suicide.

  And there wasn’t going to be. The next thing she felt were thin, strong fingers wrapping another length of wire around her wrists and then the soft touch of another woman’s skin.

  Her wrists had been fastened to Monique’s, back-to-back. An effective way of restraining both of them.

  ‘Where’s the closest boat?’ Zulu’s voice. He was still behind her, so she could hear him, but not see him.

  ‘Down this way,’ Bradley replied.

  Fastened back-to-back, Jade and Monique stumbled forward, each struggling to keep their balance as Zulu pulled them roughly along. She trod on Monique’s heel with her right foot, and felt the back of her head bash against the dive instructor’s and the gasp of pain that followed. She couldn’t see where they were going; she could only see Neil’s terrified face as he was herded along behind her, arms also tied, by the gun-wielding Bradley and the uniformed guard.

  The lights of the car park grew more distant and the tall metal barriers grew closer. They didn’t go into the barriered-off area, though, but continued straight down towards the water’s edge.

  Then the tarmac under her feet changed to wooden boards.

  They were on a jetty. The boards sounded hollow under Jade’s feet and were warped and uneven.

  Monique stumbled, dragging Jade’s wrists back, and a sharp end of wire dug into her wrist so painfully that she thought it might have drawn blood.

  She twisted her fingers upwards, hoping to find it. Her middle finger brushed against the needle-like point and, with some difficulty, she managed to bend it away from her.

  And then Monique stopped suddenly and Jade cannoned into her, feeling the other woman stagger and almost pull them over.

  They had reached the end of the jetty and Jade could hear the soft thudding of a boat bumping against the barrier.

  ‘In,’ she heard Zulu say.

  ‘But I …’ Monique’s voice, terrified. She felt the other woman push back against her and realised that Zulu was asking her to do the impossible, because there was no way that two of them tied together would be able to get down into the boat without risking injury to at least one.

  But then, Jade didn’t think at this stage that avoiding injury to their prisoners was a priority for either of the men.

  ‘Get in, bitch!’

  Bradley’s voice. And then Jade was yanked backwards and pulled right off her feet as Monique launched herself off the jetty and into the boat.

  Without her arms to balance or break her fall, the dive instructor landed hard and let out a shrill scream. The boat rocked violently and water fountained into the air.

  Jade’s own landing was cushioned by Monique, but, even so, the impact was like a body blow. The side of her head cracked against the edge of the boat and her knee struck something rough and solid.

  And then Zulu shoved Neil off the edge of the jetty. His arms also bound behind him, he too had no choice but to fall headfirst towards them. His shoulder hit Jade in the solar plexus, punching all the breath out of her, and she heard an awful crunch as his face smashed into the bottom of the boat.

  The boat rocked again as two of the men climbed down and got in. Not Zulu. He was staying behind.

  ‘Go right out to sea,’ he said, untying the mooring rope. ‘Remember, the whole of the harbour gets dredged. And as soon as you’re done, I want the workers disposed of.’

  ‘No,’ Monique began to sob loudly. ‘Please.’

  Bradley ignored her and started the motor, manoeuvring the craft away from the jetty and out of the harbour into the blackness of the ocean.

  In her backward-facing position, Jade could just see over the stern. She watched the shape of the jetty swiftly disappearing into the fog. But when the boat turned to the left, her view was lit up by the bright spotlights that were trained inwards around a large construction zone.

  They were sailing past the section of the harbour that had been barricaded off. Now, finally, from her ocean-going vantage point, Jade got a full view of what was inside those tall steel walls.

  The barriered-off section contained no contraband goods that she could see. She saw no containers waiting to be filled or emptied before being smuggled in or out of the harbour. No stockpiles of anything illegal at all.

  The area surrounded by the high sheet-metal walls was about half the size of a football field. Running down its middle was a wide concrete roadway. It was indisputably a tanker bay, just as she’d been told. And floating low in the water, secured by ropes to the steel mooring points, was a medium-sized oil tanker.

  Or, rather, the skeleton of one.

  Even with her inexperienced eye, Jade doubted whether the vessel would ever leave the harbour. Its tall sides were mottled and dappled with huge crusts of reddish-black rust.

  The ship was giving out a series of eerie-sounding groans and creaks and, as it swayed against its moorings, Jade heard the scream of ancient metal against metal, as if the torque forces of the ropes were enough to tear it apart. It was a dying vessel, surely way past any hope of refurbishment or repair, one that would never embark on a sea voyage again. It reeked of despair, and looking at it made Jade shiver.

  A trace of faded, white lettering on its rusted hull caught her eye. Staring hard, Jade could just make out the word ‘Karachi.’

  As they passed it, she realised that above the salty smell of the sea she could identify the thick, corrosive smell of old oil.

  With a start, Jade remembered the story about an oil tanker she’d seen on Sky News. Perhaps this vessel had also got into trouble during a storm and been abandoned, eventually drifting towards shore, and then towed into Richards Bay to be broken up by a private salvage operator.

  Peering into the fog, Jade could see definite signs of activity on the far side of the ship. She caught a glimpse of two black-clad men walking slowly past the vessel, pushing something that looked like a large drum. Off to one side, three freight wagons were being slowly pulled up the hill by an ancient-looking railway engine.

  The tanker was being emptied. Whatever cargo it had held in its final journey across the seas was now being offloaded, decanted into drums and taken away for storage or disposal. Perhaps that was why the steel walls were in place—to prevent possible contamination from a toxic load.

  Or perhaps not. Maybe it wasn’t being emptied at all.

  With a start, Jade remembered why Zulu had looked so familiar.

  He was none other than Patrick Zulu, CEO of Richards Mining, whose ambitions to strip mine the dunes in the national park had been documented by the journalist, along with his photograph, in the online article she had so recently read.

  ‘If it pays, it stays,’ he had been quoted as saying. He’d made it clear that he would go to any lengths to ensure that his plan to expand the company’s mining activities was not thwarted by the environmentalists’ findings.

  By arriving at the harbour that morning, Jade and David had unwittingly presented a threat to those plans, and Zulu had given orders to dispose of them.

  As she tugged vainly against the tight bite of the wire binding her wrists, Jade couldn’t help but wonder what Monique had done to incur Zulu’s wrath.

  37

  Jade could feel the speedboat’s motor throbbing. From the wake she could see streaming out behind them, she guessed it was going at top speed. The boat’s prow lurched upwards and dropped downwards as it breasted th
e waves, now heading straight out to sea. With every movement of the boat, she heard something heavy on the bottom of the boat shifting.

  For a while she had thought it was Neil, still unconscious after the hardness of his fall, but she gradually realised that there was something else in the boat that was solid and heavy.

  Like bricks, perhaps.

  Jade’s stomach lurched as she remembered how it had felt to be crushed by tons upon tons of water. The fear she had felt as she kicked her flippers and descended deeper and deeper into the ocean, despite her breathing apparatus and her instructor by her side. She didn’t want to think about how that downward rush would feel with heavy bricks attached to her ankles—and the weight of another person behind her.

  Monique’s sobs had subsided into whimpers. Jade needed her to listen. She had to get the message through to her that they must act, and fast, before the boat reached the spot where their captors planned to put those bricks to use.

  They had to act together, because she doubted she would be able to wriggle out of the wire that bound her. It was far too tight. She stretched her thumbs up, trying to find the loose end that had jabbed her earlier.

  There it was again. She pushed it with her right thumb and felt it bend round.

  But with her hands behind her back, she had no idea whether she was pushing it in the right direction or only succeeding in further tightening the bonds.

  ‘Monique?’ Jade whispered, trying to keep her voice as soft as breath.

  No response. Jade tried again, a louder hiss this time, turning her head and pressing her cheek against the dive instructor’s wavy blonde hair.

  The other woman’s only response was a sob.

  Jade was considering her next option when, to her surprise, the dive instructor took a shuddery breath and whispered back, ‘Yes?’

  ‘We’re going to have to …’

  But Jade was interrupted.

  ‘This isn’t my fault, you know,’ Monique whispered.

  ‘I don’t …’

  ‘I never blackmailed him.’

  ‘Blackmailed who?’ What on earth was she talking about, Jade wondered.

  ‘Him. Bradley.’ And now Monique’s voice was a hiss.

  ‘So you know him?’

  ‘We dated. A while back. I didn’t know when I met him, but he’d just come out of prison.’

  Prison?

  Questions jostled for position in Jade’s mind. So many she wouldn’t have known which to ask first, even if there had been time. But there was no time left now. And in any case, Monique was in full conversational flow.

  ‘Jade, he became obsessed with me. Violent. It was horrible. Even when I thought it was over, he still used to phone and SMS me at all hours of the night. I would never have blackmailed him. I was just glad to get away from him.’

  ‘Monique, that’s interesting, but …’

  ‘Then he started to get weird. He invited me to his flat one day and he …’

  ‘Monique, we can talk about this later. Right now we need to …’

  ‘This is all so unfair.’ Another sob.

  If Jade’s hands had been free, she would have grabbed the other woman and shaken her in frustration. Here they were, just minutes from certain death and, instead of listening to Jade’s escape plan, all Monique could do was whine on about how none of this had been her fault.

  ‘Listen. This is important. We need to go over …’

  And then, abruptly, the engine cut out and the boat stopped moving forwards. They coasted to a stop, the craft rocking gently on the waves.

  If Bradley had reached his intended location, it might already be too late for her plan to work.

  ‘Pull him up.’

  Bradley’s voice. What was going on? Jade craned her neck, struggling to see. The beam of a flashlight pierced the darkness, momentarily dazzling her, and she heard a dull scraping sound.

  Sneaking another look, she saw the guard was gripping the torch in his teeth, holding the unconscious Neil by his shoulders while Bradley worked on his legs, attaching what Jade now saw was a heavy-looking concrete block with a rough hole through its centre.

  Go overboard with one of those lashed to your ankles and you would never come up for air again, she thought.

  ‘We have to jump over the side,’ Jade whispered. ‘It’s our only chance. My left, your right. Count of three.’

  She felt Monique tense. Then she squeezed Jade’s finger in response. Finally, the scuba instructor had listened to her.

  Jade breathed in. Deep, fast breaths. Forcing her lungs to take in as much air as they could, then pushing it out again. Oxygenating her blood to give her the best possible chance of survival when they were under the water.

  ‘One.’

  Another breath.

  ‘Two.’

  Jade eased her legs as far underneath her as they would go.

  ‘Three.’

  They struggled to their feet, limbs tangled, fighting for balance on the slippery bottom of the boat. It was not the quick and easy manoeuvre she had hoped for, that was for sure. It was more like a free-for-all.

  And then she heard Monique scream. ‘Help! Don’t!’

  The torch beam swung in their direction again and, with a cold rush of terror, Jade knew that they had been too slow.

  And then she did it. A desperate sideways lunge took them over the edge of the boat. Jade gulped in as much air as she could as they tipped into the cold, heaving sea.

  But as they fell, a gunshot split the air and Jade felt Monique’s body convulse.

  As they sank deeper under the water, she realised that her worst nightmare had come true. The dive instructor had been shot. She was not moving and her body was slack. And now, whether she lived or died, Jade was joined to her by a tough and unbreakable length of wire.

  38

  One minute underwater. That was what Jade knew she had left until she could no longer breathe.

  She opened her eyes wide, desperate to orient herself. It was a waste of time, because only claustrophobic blackness greeted her. Her fear swelled to scream-inducing terror as she realised she didn’t even know which way was up.

  A minute was the maximum she had left—and probably less than that, because the adrenaline that was now sluicing through her body was causing her heart to race, gobbling up the oxygen that was a precious and scarce commodity. Very soon she would no longer be able to hold her breath. Monique was either unconscious or dead—she certainly wasn’t moving, let alone struggling—and her weight was pulling them down, causing the wire to cut even more deeply into Jade’s flesh.

  Jade’s lungs were burning. She kicked her shoes off with difficulty, because Monique’s legs kept on getting in her way. She had to try to get back to the surface. It was impossible. Her feet had no room to move. Instead, they slammed into the drifting body behind her.

  Panic overwhelmed her as logical thought fled. All that remained was the imperative to struggle and fight against the dead weight that pulled her back.

  And then the loose end of the wire scraped against her wrist again.

  Her lungs were throbbing and her diaphragm was starting to hitch with the overwhelming need to breathe. She couldn’t help it. She let out some of the only breath she had, the only breath she was going to get. Bubbles swirled around her. The pressure on her lungs eased a little, but the burning need for more air grew worse.

  Jade pushed the end of the wire as hard as she could. Now she could reach it with her other thumb. She continued the pressure, pulling the wire round, but she couldn’t seem to get it any further and, in despair, she realised that she must have been tightening it instead of helping it to untwist.

  And then, suddenly, she felt it. The wire jerked and loosened. It didn’t come apart, but the gap pulled open enough for her to wrestle first one wrist and then another out of the steel loop.

  Monique was gone.

  She was free, but she had no idea how deep she was or how she was going to get back to the surface,
wherever it might be. This was it. She just could not hold this breath in any longer.

  And then, from the direction that she would have thought was below her, came a loud and heavy splash. Jade sensed, rather than saw, the weighted form travelling swiftly past her, on its way to the depths.

  Neil’s body.

  ‘Which way is up?’

  ‘Follow the bubbles.’

  Her mother’s voice, echoing from her dreams.

  Jade kicked out in the direction of the splash, fighting the need to gasp in air with every ounce of will that she possessed.

  She felt her lungs contract, forcing out the remaining air. She clamped her mouth shut and concentrated on kicking herself upwards.

  And then she was bursting out of the water and gulping in the sweetest, deepest breath she had ever taken.

  Jade trod water and took in rapid, gasping breaths, quickly feeling the strength flow back into her limbs. Now she needed to find the boat. It must still be nearby, its presence camouflaged by the rolling waves. She couldn’t see it; and, in the darkness, its occupants couldn’t see her. But if they swept the area with a light, they would easily pick her out. Bradley would have known his shot had hit Monique, but she was sure he would check, for the sake of thoroughness, that neither of them surfaced again.

  Sure enough, a bright torch beam cut through the darkness to her right, turning the ocean from black to dull grey-green.

  Jade ducked under the water just as the light moved round towards her. Above her she could see the beam’s reflection on the water. It moved slowly round, searching, and then headed further and further to her left until it disappeared from view.

  Coming up, she could hear them shouting at each other, but couldn’t make out their words.

  Eventually, the boat’s motor started up again. It made a low droning sound as it turned a slow half-circle. The prow lights came on, but they were facing away from her now. Then she heard the throttle increase and saw the boat speed away, leaving her floundering in its turbulent wake.

  Kicking herself as far out of the water as she could in an attempt to locate the shore, Jade saw that the harbour was now far off to her left. There were other lights straight ahead of her that signalled a coastline, but they were faint and shimmering; a long way away. How far? She guessed she would find out soon. Either she’d make it or she wouldn’t.