After the Flood, page 24
He didn’t answer. It was obvious what they had to do: set the bombs and get the fuck out of there. The guts of the whole plant were just the other side of the fence, ten metres in. Once they slid into the metal maze, they would look like any maintenance worker. Thirty more metres in and a bit to the right was where Paul had said the explosion would do the most damage. He jogged to the gate and scanned his pass. There was no click. He pushed hard against the gate but it did not shift.
‘Fuck!’
The buzz of the plant machinery was like a pump to his bloodstream. He could see more blue security uniforms about two hundred metres inside. He tried the pass again. The gate remained steadfast.
‘Try yours,’ he almost yelled it, conscious now how exposed they were.
Annika scanned but got the same result.
‘We need to go.’ She was fretting.
Maybe they had changed the security code already? Or more likely, he thought, his anger rising, that fucktard Paul had not given them a working pass in the first place. Protecting his fucking fucktard girlfriend.
Fuck.
He reached back into the backpack. The pipe bomb and its booster filled it completely. The timer could be set to a maximum of forty minutes. But that was too long. They’d find it before then. The Frenchman had said the bomb would be very powerful. Thomas set the bomb to ten minutes, stepped back and, seizing the backpack by its strap, hurled it up and over the ten-foot fence. Even though he’d been told it would explode only via the timer, he flinched as it landed with a soft thud on the other side among the outermost pipes and machinery.
‘Come on,’ he shouted and began running back to where their entry point had been.
He could hear the noise of a larger vehicle, probably a four-wheel drive coming from the opposite direction to which the cart had travelled. Welcoming shadows that marked the external fence were drawing closer with every stride but so was the vehicle.
Darkness. Annika just behind him. His boots pounded through the rocky scrub. He wasn’t sure he would find their exit point.
‘There!’ Annika pointed and ran and tumbled over. He reached the fence as she righted herself and held up the wire.
‘Quick!’
Annika slid through on her elbows, her backpack with the booster bomb intact snaring the wire.
‘Here.’
He yanked the pack off and she scrambled through. He pushed the backpack through ahead of himself. On the outer side now he got to his feet and charged into black, stripping off the jacket as he ran. He heard the sound of the vehicle slowing, sensed a strong light. He grabbed Annika and pulled her to the ground behind a termite mound. There was the sound of a car door opening and a radio, but the security people were staying at the fence, which likely meant they hadn’t seen them yet. He put his finger to his lips, stripped Annika’s jacket from her, slung the backpack over his own shoulders and started in a hunched run in the direction of the boat.
It should have surprised Clement but it hadn’t that there were only ten security staff on the island. Six of those had been sleeping when Clement had first made contact from the plane. Australians had a notorious ‘She’ll be right’ attitude to life. Largely inured from war and famine, the nation had referred to itself as The Lucky Country with good reason. Though the world had long been global, the Australian psyche was still back in the days of biplanes.
‘There’s really only nine of us who actually patrol or supervise,’ explained Gus Nordling, the head security officer. If size was a hallmark for security excellence, then Nordling had it in spades. Broader than a North Queensland accent, he stood at least 195 centimetres. Nordling had revealed he was ex-army.
‘We have a two-man patrol nightly. They use a cart, get out, walk around. Another two personnel are on call in the security station. We’re a mix of ex-coppers and service.’
They were in a cart heading onto the long pier where the ships docked to have giant tanks pumped full of LNG. Clement had taken advantage of guaranteed phone reception to wake Risely and explain the situation. On the whole, his boss had taken it well.
‘You knew if you called me before, I would be in an awkward position and might tell you not to go till we had more to work on,’ he’d said. Before Clement could spin any bullshit, Risely had said, ‘Don’t bother answering. I trust your judgement and there’s no police presence on the island any more so it’s a smart move. I’ll get onto Dampier in the morning and get a couple of bodies over there. Wake me again if you need.’
Nordling’s big body bounced as the cart hit ruts.
‘We’ve got two boats we use for patrol. One of my people has gone ahead to ready them. If we had a ship in, we’d have a couple of people down at the dock.’
He swung off to where two motorboats, each with twin outboards, were moored at a lower pontoon.
Clement and Earle were just heaving themselves off the cart when an enormous bang punched through the air. Clement spun to see a huge bell of dust rolling upwards through the artificial lights back at the plant.
27
After an instant of shock, Nordling was on his radio. Clement and Earle stood watching the dust drift. Despite the harsh metallic bark from the radio, they could make out the response from whoever Nordling was in communication with.
‘This is Delta. Large explosion.’ Delta then shouted across to somebody else unseen, ‘Is there fire?’ Then back to Nordling. ‘Doesn’t seem to be fire yet but I can see stuff-all. It’s thick with dust. Casualties unknown.’
‘On my way,’ snapped Nordling. Earle and Clement were about to climb back into the cart when they heard the unmistakable hum of powering outboards off the coast. They couldn’t see the boat in the dark but they could hear it until an alarm cut through, drowning everything else. As Nordling jumped behind the wheel of the cart Clement made a snap decision. He pointed out to sea.
‘We’ll go after that.’
Nordling nodded. ‘Edwards will take you.’
Edwards turned out to be a woman about forty, her blonde hair tucked under her cap. She was standing on the pontoon, the powerboat, about thirty-feet long Clement guessed, at her back.
‘Fire her up,’ Earle bellowed to Edwards. ‘I got this.’ He raced for the mooring ropes, slipped them off their bollards and tossed them into the boat.
‘We need to catch that boat.’ Clement charged across the small gangway behind Edwards, fumbling for his phone. The big engines roared to life, the vibration driving up through the soles of his feet. He sensed Earle arriving in a blur, then dragging the gangway on board.
‘Clear,’ yelled Earle and then the boat was moving fast through the black.
As the island receded and with it the alarm, Clement got through to Risely who answered immediately.
‘There’s been an explosion on the island. We don’t know the extent but it was a helluva bang. We’re on the water in a boat. Hopefully on their tail.’
Risely snapped a good luck and rang off, further talk superfluous.
The noise of their own engines was so loud it masked any from the other boat. Edwards snapped on a searchlight that illuminated more than fifty metres ahead. Earle swung it in an arc but there was no sign of their quarry.
‘How are we going to find them?’ Clement asked. Earle gestured to Edwards who was steady at the wheel.
‘We’re catching a bit of wake. She knows what she’s doing.’
Showing no indication that she had heard, Edwards continued to make adjustments to her course.
Clement was growing alarmed. They appeared to him to be heading further and further away from the island and in the opposite direction to the coast. He said as much to Earle. Unfortunately, there was no chance to whisper. Edwards turned and without expression said, ‘Given this course, I’m pretty sure they’re heading to the Montebello Islands.’
All Clement knew about these islands was that the British had tested nuclear bombs there and a bunch of Australian servicemen reckoned they had got cancer from it and were still waiting sixty years on for some recognition.
‘How far away?’ he asked.
Earle, who Clement guessed had probably fished here more than a few times, said, ‘At this rate, about another half an hour. But there are lots of coves, right?’
Edwards nodded. ‘There are quite a few little islands and plenty of spots in there.’
‘How many islands?’
‘Try fifty if you count the tiny ones. More than a dozen you’d call small,’ said Edwards. ‘Two major ones. But mostly it’s as bald as a billiard ball on them. There’s nowhere to hide long-term.’
Edwards’ radio crackled and she answered quickly. Clement tried to catch what was being said at the other end but it was too hard. Edwards listened without interrupting. The boat thumped over the swell. Eventually he heard her say, ‘Yes, I will pass it on.’
She ended the exchange and yelled over to Clement, ‘No known casualties to this stage and no fire. The bomb detonated just inside the inner perimeter. The boss says it has caused a fair bit of damage and there’s a crater but it hasn’t ruptured any feeder pipes so the firies are onto it. No suspects apprehended but they found the outside fence cut and work clothes for two people down at the shore. He also said that for now we’re on our own. He has nobody he can spare.’ She shouted to Earle, ‘We might be better to douse the light. Use these instead.’
She was holding what Clement recognised was a night vision monocular. She bypassed Clement and handed it to Earle, who killed the searchlight.
‘Go for’ard. The windscreen isn’t as clear,’ said Edwards.
Earle took himself towards the bow and squatted down. He put the instrument to his eye. Time passed. Clement found it hard to judge on the water. He was hoping like hell nobody had been badly hurt in the blast. It seemed a big one.
‘Got them.’ Earle used his left hand to indicate the direction they needed to pursue.
‘I think they’re still back there.’ Annika was gesturing wildly behind them.
Thomas tried to turn to see for himself but it was too hard to steer at the same time so he bored on. At least when their pursuers shone the big light you knew where they were. He was still churning inside. When he heard the explosion just as they had begun to leave the island behind, he had felt elated. But that emotion was quickly swamped by bitterness at what might have been. Damn Paul. Had he given them the correct pass it would have been so much better. The fucking bomb worked! The Frenchman had known his stuff. There had been virtually no defence on the island. Putting it together in his head as he was dashing for freedom was hard, snatches of reason, ideas tumbling like boulders but he couldn’t stop himself trying. It must have been Paul or Seydoux. Maybe Seydoux left a trail. Everything his end was watertight. Well, they still had one booster and if they wound up cornered, he could use that. He would be a hero when word got out. Shit. They had been so close. There hadn’t been any patrol craft to stop them so his best guess was that whoever was on the plane came with information. The explosion was terrifyingly loud. Surely it did some major damage. If it had created some conflagration would that be visible from here? Probably not.
Another island loomed ahead. He could make out the outline. He did not know the waters, that had been the Frenchman’s job.
Again, he cursed him. He would have put a nail through the Frog’s skull this minute if he could. He headed right, keeping the approaching landmass on his port side, not getting too close because of potential reefs, although there was a depth sounder onboard, he had now discovered. Other islands began to appear. He decided to follow the largest island’s coastline. He kept the island to port, correcting so he was heading due north. It wasn’t long before he found himself at the end of the island’s eastern flank that ended in a bony extended finger. Rounding the tip, he plunged back south on the other side of the peninsula. So now they were heading up the left flank of an n-shaped bay. Directly ahead and to starboard the ground swept up into low hills. He looked keenly for a cove. He would need to get closer to shore and trace the n but not at this speed. It was dark and the coastline looked rocky. But if he could find a cove, it would be difficult for any posse to find them on this night almost devoid of moonlight. He cut the engines.
Earle had lost sight of them once they rounded the peninsula. Edwards brought the boat around but the sea was empty.
‘Nothing,’ said Earle scanning all around.
‘I don’t think they could have made those yet.’ Edwards pointed at the closest small islands.
‘You think they’re here?’ Clement was checking out the bay of the larger island.
Edwards nodded and cut the engines. Clement strained, hoping to hear the noise of an engine but only the throaty sputter of their own was audible.
‘If I were them, I’d make for one of the coves. There’s quite a few. And the reefs aren’t too large,’ said Edwards as she steered the boat on low revs down into the n-shaped gap of what Clement supposed resembled the inner space of an upside-down fishhook. To their port side now was the short, or hook side, dead ahead the belly, and then the longer side was to starboard with maybe four hundred metres of water between the two sides. They stuck close to the port flank of the island. It was low and flat at the tip of the peninsula, nothing but scrub and rocks, but then the ground started to rise to form a rocky cliff that extended for most of the island, though here and there this disappeared into nothing but tufty hill. Now they were close enough to use the boat’s spotlight to illuminate the shore. While Clement trained that, Earle checked out the higher ground to the right with the night vision monocular. They saw nothing. They continued along the bottom or belly section where there was an inviting small and narrow beach but it was quite open. A cliff rose above the beach and beyond that appeared to be the highest point of the island, a hill higher than Clement would have expected out here in the middle of the ocean. They continued to cruise, turning north so the longer flank was now on their port side. There were several coves and Clement raked the light over them as the boat ticked slowly by, but saw no sign of life. The radio buzzed. It was Nordling. He reported that the previous assessment was confirmed, no casualties and miraculously no fire at the plant but there had been extensive damage, fortunately not to any of the gas pipelines themselves. Clement told him the current situation.
‘I’ll send the second boat over there,’ said Nordling. Clement informed him he had no phone reception and asked if he could call Risely and give him a progress report. Nordling assured him he would do that.
When they reached the top of the long side of the island, Edwards asked what Clement wanted to do now.
‘You don’t think they could have got over there?’ Clement indicated the nearest islands.
‘I don’t.’
‘Let’s check again down these coves. If they are there they’re not going anywhere.’
They started back in the opposite direction this time, so the long flank and its coves as they headed south were to starboard. Those near the northern end were protected by small reefs and these prevented them getting a good look inside the coves but Earle said he didn’t think the other boat would be able to get in there without a lot of luck. When they were almost back to the bottom of the fishhook where the belly started, Clement’s light hit a crevice in the rocky cliff that had not been visible when coming from the other direction.
‘What about there?’ he pointed.
Edwards asked him to shine the light near the narrow entrance to the cove, and seeing there was no sign of a reef, progressed very slowly through the gap. Clement and Earle drew their Glocks as a precaution. The bow nudged through the gap into a small cove shaped like a character’s thought bubble in a comic. A boat, around thirty feet in length, lay anchored on the right-hand extremity. Clement shone the spotlight over the boat. It was deserted. In this cove, the cliff behind them through which they had entered gave way to a barren rocky hillside and the spotlight was able to sweep some distance up this but it illuminated no movement, human or animal.
‘It’s over, Berryman,’ yelled Clement above the sound of the outboards. ‘Give it up.’
They were met by silence.
Edwards brought her boat alongside the other, and now close up they could see it was deserted. The boat was anchored about ten metres from the shore and the approach to land was all low rock.
‘It looks like it’s around two point three metres deep right here,’ said Edwards checking instruments. ‘But in about ten metres you’ll be able to stand.’
‘Are there sharks around?’ asked Clement, dubious about going in.
‘You bet. And deadly jellyfish,’ said Edwards. ‘Fortunately I’ve got this.’
She pulled a small inflatable raft out from under the seating.
We must look like Laurel and Hardy, thought Clement as he and Earle paddled the short distance across to the rocky shoreline. He was in front, nominally Laurel, while Earle sat behind. They had removed their shoes and rolled up their trouser legs for disembarkation. Regrettably they had not worn boots, not expecting to find themselves in this situation. The water was warm and the rocks large and not sharp, so it was easy to disembark and find their way to land. They pulled the raft up and dried their feet as best they could. Then they put on their shoes. Earle had brought the monocular, Clement a flare gun with two flares. They had left Edwards on the radio informing the other boat, which had just left the island, of their location.
Clement and Earle began to climb using small torches to guide their way. The cliff face quickly gave way to a hill covered in low scrub. There was a bit of wind but the night was still pleasantly warm. They walked in three-to-four-minute bursts then stopped and listened.
‘We should kill these,’ said Clement, indicating the torches, and Earle immediately switched his off. They had no idea where their quarry might head. With scant moonlight, bare as the terrain was, it was no certainty to find them. Each time they stopped to listen, Earle pulled out the monocular and scanned. It was on the fourth of their stops, a little more than halfway up the hill, that Earle spotted something to their left about two hundred metres away, slightly above them.
