‘My orders are not to let anyone in once the lot’s closed, you see. No one at all.’
Miles wound down the rear window. ‘Not even me?’ he asked, grinning.
‘Gawd,’ the man exclaimed. ‘I didn’t recognise you in this light, Mr Grayson. I suppose it’s all right for you to go in.’
‘Thanks,’ the mega-star replied. He waved his bare left wrist at the man. ‘It’s a bad sign when you start leaving fifty grand Rolexes in your dressing room.’
‘Want me to get it for you, sir?’ the second guard called from within the hut.
‘That’s okay. You stay here in the dry. I need to pick up some papers as well.’
‘Very good, Mr Grayson.’ The first guard raised the barrier and Prim drove through the gateway. I glanced into the back seat and saw Miles slip his watch back on to his wrist. The studio was the size of a large village, and laid out as such, with pavement walkways and street lighting. The rain slashed through the car’s headlight beams as I gave Prim directions to the big outdoor set. She drove slowly and carefully, and so it was over two minutes before we turned the last corner and saw the outline of the massive, mocked up oil platform.
Huge tarpaulins were lashed across its open side, giving some protection from the driving rain, but we had no interest in the substructure of the thing. All that we could do was stare up at the deck, and at the empty helipad.
‘Shit!’ Miles whispered. ‘The son-of-a-bitch is a pilot.’
‘Or he has a pilot with him,’ Prim suggested.
I pointed to the side of the set, where the road ran closest to it. A dark shape was parked, there, squat and chunky. ‘Drive us over there, love.’
She pulled up behind the vehicle, a medium-sized LDV truck with plain panelled sides. I jumped out into the rain and tried the back doors; they swung open, and I stepped up and into the space, crouching as I went. The beams of the Freelander lit up the compartment. At first, I thought it was empty, until I saw the line which ran down its back wall. Keeping my shadow out of the way, I touched the blue painted structure and felt it move beneath my fingers. It was a sliding door; I moved it out of the way, to reveal a second cabin, tiny, but big enough to take a passenger. . as it had. The floor was padded with carpeting, folded over three times to give some cushioning against the hard floor; there was a ring, welded to the back wall, and from it there hung a chain with, on the end, a studded leather dog collar.
‘Bastard!’ I hissed, picturing Dawn tethered inside the truck. I felt my teeth clenched tightly together as I looked at the floor of the truck again. Half of the secret cubicle was in darkness and so I groped around in it, wishing I had had the brains to bring a torch. My hands bumped against something rough. I picked it up; a length of rope, knotted tightly, but cut through cleanly with a blade. I fitted the severed ends together, and judged that the loop which it formed would have secured a small person’s ankles. I pressed myself back into the dark side of the compartment, allowing in as much of the bright halogen light as possible, looking for other, more ominous signs — like blood — but, to my relief, finding none.
I jumped out of the van and back into the Freelander. I was still holding the rope; I passed it into the back seat. ‘No doubt about it,’ I said. ‘Dawn was there. It’s an abduction vehicle, purpose-built.’
Miles rubbed the hemp against the stubble of his chin, with real anguish on his face. Then his eyes hardened again, ‘Prim. Take us to the production office. There’s some stuff there I want to check.’ He snapped out directions. ‘First right, second left, then look for a two-storey half-timbered house with a small garden in front.
‘I wasn’t thinking earlier, Oz, when you called Mike. We don’t need him to pinpoint disused North Sea platforms. I researched that when I was planning this project; the report’s in my files.’
Prim drove a bit more quickly this time; she found the office which looked like a house in under a minute. Miles fumbled with a bunch of keys as we ran up the short drive. He unlocked the door then threw the light switch and ran upstairs, with us on his heels.
He led us straight into one of the upper rooms, which was furnished with a desk, a bar, a few chairs, and a wooden filing cabinet. He slid the top drawer open and flicked through folders, quickly. ‘Gotcha, you beaut,’ he hissed, lapsing unconsciously into broad Aussie, as he pulled one out.
He scanned the document which was stitched inside, then handed it to me. I was going to read it, until he spoke.
‘Like I thought, the advance team came up with three possibilities: the one we chose in the end, one in the Norwegian sector, and a third, known as Beta platform, in Dutch waters. Logistically that was by far the best option; it was the easiest to reach and service, and the weather was guaranteed better. But technically, it wasn’t what we were looking for. We did a recce and decided that it just didn’t look the part, so we opted for the location off Aberdeen.’
‘Does it have a helipad?’
‘Of course.’
‘Could we fly over it and see if there’s a chopper there now?’
‘No, that wouldn’t tell us for sure. The platform has a hangar; it could have been rolled in there.’
He looked at us, from one to the other. ‘What do you think?’
‘It’s all we’ve got,’ Prim replied, voicing my thoughts word for word. ‘But we have to bring in the police, especially since the platform’s in Dutch coastal waters. If we’re going to rescue Dawn unharmed, we’re going to need a specialist assault team.’
‘We’ve got one,’ Miles growled. His eyes were slits; at that moment he didn’t look a bit like any face I’d ever seen on a movie poster. ‘I never told you guys, but when I was a youngster, before I got into this business, I was in the Australian Marines; special forces. I don’t use it in my publicity; I don’t even talk about it, because some of the things we did wouldn’t stand looking into.
‘I know how to get on to that rig, and I know what to do when I get there.’
‘Miles,’ Prim protested. ‘That’s crazy. You can’t stage a frontal assault on the thing, on your own.’
‘I sure can. But maybe I won’t have to. You’re a diver, aren’t you, Oz.’
I nodded. ‘You know I am. I dived a lot when I was in my teens and early twenties. And I still go down now and again when we’re in Spain.’
‘Ever done any wreck diving?’
‘Of course I have. The Firth of Forth’s full of the bloody things.’ I knew what was coming. ‘Hold on a minute though. Prim’s right. You and I can’t run a private rescue mission, in foreign territory, or anywhere else for that matter.’ I glanced at my watch. ‘We’ve still got twenty-two hours to play with, before you have to e-mail the code word. If we go to the police now, with what we have, they can stage the rescue.’
Miles shook his head, firmly. ‘What do you know about the Dutch special forces? Nothing. What do you know about the British? Only that when they go in they go in shooting. That’s if they didn’t spend all the time we have arguing about jurisdiction. There’s a better than even chance they’d botch it.
‘Tell me this straight. What do you think this guy would do if he was cornered?’
He had me there. ‘I think there’s a pretty fair chance he’d kill Dawn.’
‘And if we do nothing, if we let him take the money and run, can you give me a cast-iron guarantee that he won’t kill her anyway?’
‘You know I can’t.’
‘Then will you help me?’
‘Miles. .’
There was a long silence, until at last his eyes softened. ‘Listen,’ he said, softly, ‘your Prime Minister is a buddy of mine. . or he likes to think he is. If I call him, and get his personal okay on what we plan to do, with the proviso that if anything does go wrong, they take the bastard out as soon as he lifts off in that chopper. . if I do that, will you come with me?’
I couldn’t say no, could I? Well, maybe I could have, but when it comes right down to it, I’m as crazy as him. ‘Okay,’ I agreed. Prim said nothing; she just glared at the two of us.