Ben looked around and saw Angelo. His tanned face had gone pale and his long hair was stuck to his skin. As he gripped onto the side of the boat he looked shocked. Shocked and scared. Ben didn't blame him. One look at the state of the sea told him how lucky they had been.
'Sorry if we scared you down there,' the voice continued. 'Wasn't really the time and place for proper introductions.'
'Forget about it,' Ben said shortly. He was more concerned about getting his feet on dry land.
They reached the shore with difficulty. Even in the shallow water it was difficult to wade out, and when Ben and Angelo finally got to the beach, they both collapsed on the sand while the frogmen who had rescued them ran off, no doubt to continue their life-guarding duties. Within seconds Angelo was surrounded by two bodyguards, who started talking to him in hushed voices. Ben tried to get some sense of what they were saying, but without success. It was only when Angelo stood up that he seemed to realize that Ben had no idea what was going on.
'There's a' — Angelo paused as he searched for the word — 'a hurricane. A bad one. It's approaching now. My father wants me off the island — there's a small charter flight leaving in half an hour to the US mainland. It takes off from the other side of the island. They think they can stay away from the danger area.' A serious expression crossed his face. 'He got a ticket on the plane for you too, if you want it. But we have to leave immediately.' He glanced at one of the bodyguards, an enormous man with a square, unsmiling face. 'Brad's taking me to the airport now.'
Ben bit his lower lip. He didn't much fancy staying here on the island, but as that thought crossed his mind, he glanced up the beach towards Alec's house. He didn't feel great about leaving the old man here to face the devastation to come, either. Ben jumped to his feet. 'I'll be two minutes,' he shouted.
He ripped off his flippers and hurtled up the beach, ignoring the way the wind stung his wet skin, up into Alec's garden. The old man was waiting for him in the porch. The moment he saw Ben, a look of relief crashed over his face. 'Bit blowy out there,' he said wryly.
'Yeah,' Ben replied breathlessly. 'You could say that. I just heard a hurricane's going to hit.'
If Alec was surprised or worried by the news, he didn't show it. He just nodded his head calmly. 'First I've heard of it,' he commented.
'Came out of nowhere, apparently. Angelo said he can get me off the island on the same flight as him.'
'Then you must go,' Alec replied. 'I'm sure you don't want to add this to your ever-growing list of disasters.' He winked mischievously.
'What about you? I could ask him if there's another seat on the plane.'
Alec smiled. 'Ben,' he said softly — so softly that he was difficult to hear over the sound of the screaming winds outside — 'listen. If only half of what you have told me about your exploits is true, you're a brave lad. A very brave lad. But you can't go round the world saving everyone, you know.' He looked out to sea. 'Besides, I've seen a few strong winds in my time. I think I'll just batten down the hatches and sit it out.' He looked back at Ben and winked. 'Go on,' he said. 'Get your things together. If you get off the island today, you can be back home tomorrow. And I don't think we need a long drawn-out goodbye, do you?'
It only took Ben a couple of minutes to change and stuff everything into his holdall. When he was ready he sprinted downstairs. Alec shook his hand. 'It's been nice to have you, Ben,' he said. 'Come and see me again soon, won't you?'
'You bet,' Ben replied.
'You should go, matey,' Alec said.
Ben nodded and made for the door. As he left, he looked back over his shoulder. Alec was staring out of he window, over the sea and to the boiling sky beyond. His wild hair was blowing in the wind and he seemed lost in thought. Ben left him to it.
Minutes later, he and Angelo were in a spacious Mercedes driven by the big bodyguard. As they sped away from the house, there was no reason for either of them to notice an altogether less impressive car pull into the road and follow them, keeping its distance, but being very, very careful not to lose them.
Chapter Two
'They are on flight GXR1689 bound for Miami, leaving from Gate 3.'
'You are sure?' The man ran his finger gently down the scar on the side of his face as he spoke — a habit of his.
'They will be boarding any minute.' The two men on either side of the telephone conversation were not speaking English, but some other language.
'And will you be on the flight with them?' the scarred man demanded quietly.
'I have the last seat.'
'Good. We are lucky. This storm was not expected. Let us hope that bringing our plans forward at the last minute does not ruin them.'
'You are nearby? You will be able to board the plane unnoticed?'
'I think so.' He continued to stroke his scar. 'But if I am unsuccessful, I wish you luck with our backup plan. Remember, we do this for the good of our people. Do not be scared.'
'I'm not scared. If death comes, I will embrace it.'
'As will I.'
The man pressed a button on his mobile phone and hung up.
He was not a big man, but he was stocky and strong. The scar down the left-hand side of his face was angry and red, and at that exact moment he stood at the edge of Grand Cayman airport, only metres away from an aircraft hangar. The sea was behind him. He had already cut a hole in the wire perimeter fence and he lost no time in clambering through it. He ran quickly to the hangar, then skirted around the outside until he found the entrance. It was there that he discovered what he was looking for: a member of the airport staff dressed in the regulation short-sleeved khaki uniform. He stepped into the worker's field of vision, then disappeared again behind the hangar.
'Hey!' the worker called. 'What are you doing there?' He followed the man suspiciously.
That was his big mistake.
It only took the man one blow on the back of the worker's neck to knock him unconscious, and as soon as the victim hit the ground he started to remove his clothes. They didn't fit him that well, but they would do. In under a minute he was indistinguishable from any of the other airport workers on site, other than the fact that he carried a small rucksack full of essential items. Essential to him, at least.
It was not a big airfield, and he could see Gate 3 less than 100 metres away. A small twin-propeller aircraft of the kind used for short hops was waiting there, its luggage being loaded. It was an old-fashioned-looking plane that had clearly been hauled into service to get people off the island before the storms hit. A few final passengers were walking across the tarmac and climbing up into the aircraft as he approached, but none of them paid him any attention. Nor did the two baggage handlers who were using a truck to reverse pallets of luggage up into the plane. He walked in the shadow of one of these pallets, completely unobserved, and up the ramp. Quickly, before anyone could notice him, he hid behind a pallet that was already loaded.
No one would see him here, he decided. When they were in the air he would have to work quickly — the temperature in the hold would soon drop. But for now he had to keep quiet.
He had to keep still.
He had to trust his luck, and wait until takeoff.
Ben didn't mind admitting to himself that he felt nervous as he strapped himself firmly into his seat. He'd been in enough aeroplanes, of course, in his time; he'd even flown a microlight over Adelaide in some pretty hairy circumstances. But as he sat next to Angelo in their seats near the front of the plane — Angelo's bodyguard had taken a place in the seat behind them — he could already hear the wind outside. It wasn't as strong as it had been at the beach, but it was still — as Alec would have said — a bit blowy, and Ben knew that it was going to be a bumpy takeoff.