Terror's Reach by Tom Bale Page A

world where the tiniest missed detail could prove
fatal. He’d immersed himself in lives far more chaotic and painful
than these without incurring any emotional damage.
Perhaps that was the trouble, Joe thought. This was so much harder,
because he actually cared about Cassie and her children.
    They were wandering back towards the car park when Joe spotted a
phone box and remembered the call he’d intended to make. He had
his mobile with him, but decided a public phone would be better.
Save him having to ditch his mobile afterwards.
'I need to ring someone. Are you okay to wait here a second?’
Cassie regarded him as though he must be joking. 'Borrow my
mobile.’
'No. It’s fine.’ Leaving her perplexed, Joe stepped into the booth.
He dialled the number from memory and waited, listening to the burr
of the phone and the thudding of his heart.
A familiar but wary voice said: 'Hello?’
'Hi, Maz. Can you talk?’
    'Course I can. How are you, Joe?’
'Surviving. You?’
'Same as ever. No point asking where you are?’
“Fraid not. Better for you that way.’
'So what’s the occasion? Planning a return to civilisation?’
'They wouldn’t have me. No, I need a small favour. Can you check
an index number for me?’
'I’m off duty, mate. Just about to light up the barbecue. Pop in if
you want,’ Maz added cheerily.
'Wish I could. Don’t suppose there’s anyone you could ask?’
A quiet chuckle. 'I’m already dialling the landline. What do you
intend to do with the information?’
'Nothing. I promise.’
'Okay. Go on, then.’
Joe recited the number, then heard a clunk as Maz switched phones.
He nodded at Cassie through the glass, knowing he’d face an interrogation
for this.
Maz came back on, a wry humour in his voice. 'No record. Either
you misread it, or they’re false plates. Your instincts obviously haven’t
deserted you.’
'Just a hunch, really.’
Are you going to tell the local plod about this mysterious vehicle?’
'Not sure if it’ll help. But I’ll think about it.’
Maz tutted. 'Whatever you do, be careful, yeah?’
'Thanks. Say hello to Jill and the kids.’ Then a pause, which both
of them were expecting. This time Joe didn’t need to ask the question.
'No word from Helen, I’m afraid,’ said Maz.
You are still trying to trace her?’
'I do what I can. But if someone’s determined not to be found,
then generally they stay that way. You know that better than anyone.’
Yeah,’ said Joe sadly. 'I suppose I do.’
    They activated the transmitter ahead of time. For ten minutes there
was nothing to hear: just a buzz of silence that had a vaguely rhythmic
component to it. In fact the sound quality was excellent, but that
didn’t become apparent until a seagull squawked and nearly blasted
their heads off.
Hastily adjusting the volume, they caught a rueful joke about bird
shit and, soon after, the clinking of bottles and glasses being set down
on a table. Another voice said: 'Here they are.’
Two more minutes of silence, then a series of bumps and shuffles
and the murmur of conversation, coming closer. The first clear sentence
was priceless. It was spoken in a low voice, by a man with a South
African accent. McWhirter.
You’ve swept the ship for bugs?’
The reply was from another familiar voice: the bodyguard, Yuri.
'Of course. It was the first thing I did.’ He sounded resentful that
his competence had been called into question.
All right. Don’t bite my head off,’ McWhirter said. 'Now, I suggest
you make yourself scarce. We’ll shout if we need you.’
They heard the vibration on the deck as Yuri stomped away. They
also heard the single word he muttered in his native tongue when he
judged he was out of McWhirter’s earshot.
'Ppizzda.’
Joe, Cassie and the children headed slowly up Duke Street amongst
a tangled flow of pedestrians: shoppers, tourists, workers on their way
home, and an increasing number of revellers kicking off their weekend
celebrations. It took less than a minute for