Matt, exasperated, grabbed Sarah by both shoulders and shook her. ‘Just tell me, for God’s sake!’
Sarah wrestled free of his grip and slapped him hard across the face. ‘Get the fuck out of here!’ she shouted. ‘You’re out of your mind.’
Matt recoiled from the slap and for a split second considered hitting her back. ‘You fucking power-mad bitch,’ he spat, putting a finger to his swelling lip. ‘I’m going to the press!’
He started for the door. Sarah panicked. She couldn’t let this spiral out of control anymore. She needed more time to think of a way to deal with Matt.
Picking up the heavy glass vase that stood on a small, ornate hall table, she ran for Matt, her footsteps silent on the carpet. Lifting the vase high above her head, she swung it down just as Matt reached for the door handle. The vase connected with Matt’s skull with a loud crack, and he collapsed to the ground.
‘Fuck!’ she swore, breathing hard and holding her hair back from her face.
Fumbling for MiLA, she decided to call Fletcher. Staring down at Matt’s inert body, she didn’t bother with pleasantries. ‘Hey, I’ve got a serious problem and need your help. Can you come over now? Great thanks.’ She hung up.
Twenty minutes later, Fletcher arrived. Sarah opened the door to let him in. Confused, he stepped over the broken glass on the floor, trying to work out what was going on. Walking into the lounge, Fletcher saw Matt lying face-down on the floor — gagged, his hands and feet expertly bound in a submission hold, still unconscious.
‘What the hell is going on, Sarah?’ asked Fletcher, turning to Sarah with a confused look.
‘He found out that we were up to something,’ Sarah explained. ‘He threatened to go public.’
‘What’s he even doing here?’ Fletcher asked, genuinely baffled.
‘We’ve been seeing each other, Fletch — but that’s none of your business,’ Sarah replied defensively.
This agitated Fletcher. ‘Jesus. Well I think it’s my business now, Sarah. How did he find out about our plans?’
‘He didn’t know anything,’ said Sarah, still defensive. ‘He was speculating but he was on the right track. If he had gone public and mentioned the word “nuclear” our plan would have been destroyed.’
‘Again, how did he even “speculate” that we were working on a plan?’ Fletcher insisted, sceptical.
‘Look, Fletch. I might have mentioned something to him early on, before we were really going to do this, okay?’ said Sarah, exasperated.
‘You stupid…’ Fletcher cut himself off before saying something he might regret. ‘Your pillow talk has seriously jeopardised this operation. What the hell are we going to do with him now?’
‘Look, we just have to keep him quiet for a few days. Until this is all over.’
‘You want to kidnap a political aide, formerly the prime minister’s advisor?’ Fletcher laughed. ‘Are you fucking insane?’
‘Damn it, Fletch. What choice did I have?’ Sarah cried. ‘He was going public. The operation would have been finished. I had to do something — and now we need to sort this out.’
Fletcher held up his hands in resignation. ‘All right, okay. We need to get some people we trust to not ask questions to guard him somewhere safe — and well out of contact.’ Fletcher sat down on the couch and stared at Matt’s prone figure.
‘We need to get him out of Canberra,’ said Sarah. ‘They’ll be looking for him after 24 hours and we can’t risk him being discovered.’
‘Okay,’ said Fletcher, sighing. ‘I know some men who can be trusted. We can get him out of Canberra — I think I know the safest place for him.’
‘Where?’
‘On a boat. A fishing boat to be precise. We can have him taken out on a cruise up and down the east coast for a week. The weather is lovely at this time of year,’ added Fletcher, deadpan.
Sarah smiled and nodded her head slowly. ‘Oh, you’re good, Fletch. You’re very good!’
He made some calls. By 1 am, two men came around to Sarah’s. Matt had come to and was wrestling with his ties, to little effect.
Both men were clearly ex-military, casually dressed in jeans and shirts, their hair closely cropped. They were muscular, but not big men, and had an air of professionalism — they moved calmly and efficiently towards Matt. One of the men took a small leather pouch from his rucksack and unzipped it to reveal a patch.
Matt, who could see what the man had, started to panic and wrestle furiously with his bonds, screaming through his gag.
Sarah watched, horrified. ‘What are you doing, what are you giving him?’
The man said nothing, not breaking his stride for a second.
Fletcher put an arm around Sarah. ‘It’s okay — it’s just a patch that’ll put him into a deep sleep for about 12 hours. When he comes around he’ll be on a fishing boat somewhere off the coast with a bit of a comedown, but otherwise fine.’
The man crouched down and attached the patch. Almost instantly Matt’s thrashing stopped and his groans drifted off as he passed out.
‘Jesus,’ said Sarah. ‘For a moment there I thought well, I didn’t know what he was doing.’
The two men picked Matt up between them. ‘Sir,’ one of them said to Fletcher in a clear, respectful voice, ‘if you could please lead the way and check that the hallway is clear to the lift and the parking lot.’
‘Of course,’ said Fletcher. Turning to Sarah, he said ‘I’ll leave now, too. Does anyone know that Matt was here?’
‘Not that I’m aware of,’ she replied.
‘All right. Get this place cleaned up and work on your story in case he told someone that he was coming here. Keep it simple.’
Sarah walked them to the door. ‘Thank you so much, Fletch.’
‘Don’t mention it. Literally. Don’t mention this to anyone, even Marty. He cannot be made aware of this. If it all turns to custard he needs to be able to swear that he knew nothing.’
Sarah nodded, looking down, suddenly ashamed.
‘Hey,’ said Fletcher, grabbing her by the shoulders. ‘Look at me. You did the right thing tonight. Get some sleep and let’s not talk about it again.’
‘Okay. Thanks, Fletch. I’ll see you tomorrow.’ Sarah closed the door and stared down at the mess in her hallway.
Chapter 19
It was yet another perfect blue-sky morning as Finn walked from the shed to the house. Over the past week, John, Jess and Finn had removed the charred rubble from the homestead and had begun rebuilding. Luckily for them, John’s cousin ran the hardware store in town so he was able to quickly get the deliveries to them.
Finn’s shoulder was healing well, even though it still ached most of the time. He had mobility and the pain was manageable. Despite the injury, Finn had worked hard over the last few weeks. The heat made it tough work though, and often all they could do was rest in the hottest part of the day.
‘Morning,’ Finn called out to John, who was already working on the roof.
‘Morning, mate. How are you?’
‘Never better. Want a hand there?’ Finn asked, squinting upwards.
‘Get yourself some breakfast and then we can get stuck into it,’ John replied, returning to his work.
Finn headed around to the kitchen where Jess was preparing eggs and bacon.
‘Morning,’ said Finn cheerfully.
‘Good morning. Finally decided to join us?’ teased Jess, flipping the bacon over.
‘Yeah. This resort ain’t all it’s cracked up to be. I was expecting breakfast in bed and it never arrived,’ Finn complained, leaning against the kitchen bench beside her.
‘Oh really? Well, I’ll have a word with the staff,’ said Jess smiling, sliding the food onto a plate for Finn.