Agent 21: Reloaded: Book 2 Page 12

  The two men at whom Zak had pointed the P11 were sauntering towards him. Now that they weren’t in fear for their lives, they looked arrogant. One of them picked the weapon up off the floor and examined its oversized barrel. He’d clearly never seen such a firearm before and he took great pleasure in turning the tables on Zak. He pointed the P11 at his forehead. ‘You heard him, sunshine,’ he said in a London accent. Zak realized this was Barker, one of the men who’d almost rumbled him in the laundry room. ‘Turn round.’

  Zak did as he was told and was confronted by the man wielding the knife. He immediately clocked the piercings along his swollen left eyebrow. Karlovic. He didn’t look much prettier in the flesh than he had through the night sight or in the photograph in Zak’s briefing pack. He had a good couple of days’ stubble, a nasty curl to his lip and breath like a dog that had gorged on garlic. As well as his knife, he had an MP5 sub-machine gun slung across his front. Easy to use in close-quarters battle and in places where space was restricted. Like ships.

  Karlovic gave him a flat-eyed stare and stepped aside.

  ‘Walk,’ he said.

  A P11 at the back of his head and a knife just inches from his body. It didn’t look like Zak had a choice.

  He walked slowly to give himself time to think. His dive gear was still stuck to the hull of the boat. If he was fast enough he could jump over the railings of the Mercantile and swim towards it. But the rounds from Karlovic’s MP5 would penetrate the surface of the water to a depth of three metres, and in any case he’d have to come up for air before he reached his gear. He’d be fish food before he knew it.

  And then there was Bea. Was she just a busybody who’d got herself into serious trouble? Or was there more to her than that? It sounded like she was on the ship somewhere. Zak had boarded the Mercantile with his eyes open, but if Bea was just an innocent volunteer she couldn’t have any idea what she’d just let herself into. She might be totally annoying, but Zak wasn’t prepared to leave her to Black Wolf …

  No. For now, his only option was to go with the flow. See what happened. And when an opportunity presented itself, grab it.

  Karlovic, Barker and the third man forced him through the same door he had used to get to the engine room. Instead of heading down the metal steps to the laundry, however, they continued straight along the narrow corridor towards the second door at the end. Zak hadn’t even opened it before he heard a voice on the other side.

  ‘Get your hands off me! I said, Get your hands off me! What do you think you’re doing, you horrible man? What’s going on …? You know I only came on board to try and find our idiotic volunteer …’

  ‘Stupid girl,’ said Barker behind Zak.

  ‘Quiet!’ Karlovic instructed. He nudged Zak in the small of his back. ‘In you go. Now.’

  Zak opened the door and stepped into the next room.

  It was immediately clear to him that he was on the bridge of the Mercantile. It was a lot less plush than that of Galileo, the last ship’s bridge he’d been on. It measured about ten metres by five and everything – the walls, the floor, the navigation panel – was a dull battleship grey. Zak could tell from its position that the window of the bridge looked out towards Lobambo, but because it was dark outside he saw nothing but blackness. The interior was lit by a flickering strip light on the low ceiling. And in that flickering light Zak saw three people.

  The first was Bea. She was on her knees with her hands behind her back. Her pale face, normally so sour, was terrified. Hardly surprising because the second man – whom Zak did not recognize – had the barrel of an assault rifle pressed against the back of her head. The gunman had a wispy beard. It looked like he had grown it to make himself look older than he actually was – probably still a teenager, Zak reckoned. He wore a black and white bandanna on his head. There was a rank stench of body odour in the air, and Zak was pretty sure it came from this guy.

  The third man, however, Zak recognized. Antonio Acosta. The man from the Rio favelas who had, according to Michael, murdered his own brother. Zak clocked the dark eyebrows that met in the middle and took note of the enormous strength of his topless upper body.

  Acosta waited for the door to shut behind Karlovic and his men before he spoke. His voice was very soft and his English, though heavily accented, seemed good. He inclined his head slightly at Zak.

  ‘You’re going to tell me who you are,’ he said in a slightly bored tone of voice. ‘And you’re going to tell me what you’re doing. If you do that, there is a possibility – a small possibility – that I will not instruct my men to kill you.’

  Silence. Zak desperately tried to work out his next move.

  ‘I’m waiting,’ Acosta said. ‘But I’m not a very patient man.’

  Zak knew he had to sound scared. Not difficult. He was scared. ‘I … I’m sorry,’ he stuttered. ‘My name’s Jason. Jason Cole. I just wanted to look at the ship. I only just got on deck. I’ve never been on—’

  He wasn’t expecting the punch. It came out of nowhere. One second Acosta was standing with the same bored look on his face; the next he had swiped the back of his hand against Zak’s face. Zak gasped in pain. At first he couldn’t work out why it hurt so much. Only when he touched his fingertips to his left cheek and felt that it was bleeding did he look at el capitán’s hands. Acosta had a ring on his fourth finger with a sharp, jagged edge. It clearly wasn’t there for decoration. It was a weapon.

  And talking of weapons …

  Barker stepped forward and handed the P11 to Acosta.

  ‘What is this?’

  ‘He had it on him, El Capitán. And I reckon he’s been on the ship longer than he says. We saw wet footprints on the steps down to the laundry room. That was fifteen minutes ago.’

  The Mercantile’s skipper hardly acknowledged what Barker had said. He was too busy looking at the P11. ‘This is quite a toy, Jason Cole,’ he said. ‘When I was a young man, I did my killing with far less interesting weapons.’ He looked at Zak again. ‘Do you really expect me to believe that a curious kid would board my ship armed with one of these?’

  ‘It’s not mine,’ Zak improvised.

  Acosta gave him a look of mock surprise. ‘Really?’ He turned to Karlovic. ‘He says it’s not his.’ His voice was sarcastic and Karlovic’s sneer became more pronounced.

  Acosta’s second swipe was less of a surprise than the first. But it was no less painful. Zak felt blood drip down his face from this second cut. His skin stung.

  ‘Some people,’ Acosta said, ‘do not like the sight of their own blood. Or indeed of anybody’s blood. I am not so squeamish.’

  He examined the P11 again and located the safety catch, which he switched off. There was a glint in his eyes now. A sort of fervour. He almost looked like he was enjoying himself. He stretched out his arm and aimed the gun directly at Zak’s head.

  Nobody spoke. Zak barely dared breathe. Being threatened by Ntole was one thing; but Ntole’s weapon had been empty. The P11 definitely wasn’t.

  Acosta’s movement was sudden. Keeping his arm straight, he swung it round thirty degrees so the weapon was pointing at Barker, who was only standing three metres away.

  Then he fired.

  The dart from the P11 left the barrel in a perfectly straight line. When it entered Barker’s forehead, it made a cracking sound. The sound of a skull splintering. Barker’s eyes widened. There was very little blood. A second later, he collapsed. The tip of the dart had clearly pierced his skull and made contact with his brain because his limbs continued to twitch violently, even though he was quite obviously dead.

  The other men in the room – Karlovic, Barker’s mate and the guy in the bandanna – froze. Acosta looked at each of them in turn.

  ‘Capitán …’ Karlovic breathed.

  ‘If he saw footprints, he should have told me. Do you have a problem with that?’

  ‘No, Capitán.’

  ‘Good.’ He directed the P11 at Zak. ‘What were you doing down there?’


  He won’t kill me, Zak told himself. Not so long as he doesn’t know why I’m here …

  ‘Nothing. Honestly. The footprints can’t have been mine. I only just came aboard.’ He couldn’t help staring into the barrel of the gun.

  Acosta smiled. ‘You’re a brave kid. That’s not always a good thing.’ He turned his attention to Bea. She was still on her knees. Her body was trembling and Zak could see tears of terror welling up in her eyes. The man with the bandanna still had his rifle against her head, but he moved aside when Acosta nodded at him. The skipper aimed his P11 directly at Bea.

  ‘Oh God …’ she whimpered. Her eyes darted towards Barker’s dead body, then up to Acosta and finally at Zak. ‘Please … tell him what he—’

  ‘You have five seconds,’ Acosta interrupted her. ‘Five seconds to tell me what you are doing on board my ship. Otherwise I’ll be throwing this stupid girl’s body out to sea along with Barker’s. One.’

  Bea collapsed. She held her head in her hands and started sobbing uncontrollably.

  ‘Two.’

  Zak looked around the bridge, trying to find something that could act as a weapon. Nothing.

  ‘Three.’

  ‘Four.’

  ‘Wait,’ Zak said.

  Acosta inclined his head.

  ‘Let her go and I’ll tell you.’

  Bea looked up. Her face was tear-streaked, her eyes bloodshot.

  ‘I don’t negotiate with children,’ Acosta said. ‘You tell me now or I kill her.’

  A moment of silence. Zak knew the game was up. Acosta would kill Bea and he wasn’t going to let that happen. He had no choice.

  ‘There’s an explosive device,’ he said. ‘It’s in the engine room. I planted it there.’

  Very slowly, Acosta aimed the gun towards Zak.

  ‘Karlovic, move the ship out of harbour.’ The skipper turned to the bearded man with the bandanna. ‘Eduardo, take this idiot to the engine room and bring back the device. If he causes you any trouble, just kill him.’

  ‘Yes, Capitán,’ Eduardo replied. He walked up to Zak – which made the stink of body odour even worse – and prodded him with his rifle. ‘Go,’ he said.

  Zak was halfway down the stairs to the laundry room – not somewhere, he reckoned, that Eduardo spent a whole load of time – when he felt the Mercantile shudder into motion. He tried to put a lid on his panic. The further the ship slipped from shore, the more desperate his situation. He needed to keep a clear head. To think his way through this. He needed an explanation for why he’d planted the device – one that didn’t reveal his true purpose …

  The engine room was even noisier than before now that the ship was moving. There was no point pretending the device wasn’t there. Under the watchful eye of Eduardo, he removed it from its hiding place under the large metal cylinder. The bearded man kept his distance. As they walked back up to the bridge, Zak noticed that he remained a few metres further behind Zak than he had on the way down. It crossed his mind that he might use Eduardo’s fear of the bomb to his advantage. But trying to escape right now wasn’t on the agenda. Not with Bea still at Acosta’s mercy up on the bridge.

  Nothing had changed when they rejoined the others. Bea was still on her knees, sobbing, the blinking of her eyes looking like a nervous tic. Acosta still brandished the P11. Barker’s body was motionless on the floor and his mate’s eyes were a bit wild. Karlovic still sneered. As Zak walked in, they all stared mutely at the device in his hands.

  ‘Put it on the ground,’ Acosta instructed.

  Zak did as he was told, then stepped back a couple of paces. The skipper walked towards it and crouched down to examine the device. He stared at it for a full thirty seconds before reaching out his free hand and removing the batteries from their housing.

  ‘Throw it over the side,’ he told Eduardo.

  ‘Is it safe, Capitán?’

  ‘Throw it over the side, unless you want to take a much-needed bath when I do the same to you.’

  Eduardo swallowed hard. He picked up the device – which Zak knew was now completely harmless, even if Eduardo didn’t – and left the bridge, holding it at arm’s length.

  ‘Who are you working for?’ Acosta said.

  ‘Nobody …’

  ‘Please,’ Bea whispered. ‘Please let me go back to shore. This is nothing to do with me.’

  ‘Shut up, girl!’ Acosta snapped. ‘Who are you working for?’

  Zak bit on his lip. ‘Don’t make me tell you. Please.’

  Acosta sighed with impatience. He pointed the P11 at Bea again.

  ‘Wait!’

  ‘I’m tired of waiting.’

  ‘There was a man in Lobambo.’

  He had Acosta’s attention. ‘What man?’

  ‘He offered me money to put the device on board. Five thousand pounds. He said it was something to do with diamonds …’ The best lies, Zak knew, always had a bit of truth in them.

  Acosta stared at him. He was obviously trying to decide if Zak was telling the truth.

  ‘Where’s the money?’

  ‘Back at camp. Only half of it. He said he’d give me the rest when I did the job.’

  ‘What was this man’s name?’

  Zak looked down, as if he didn’t want to say.

  ‘Kill the girl,’ Acosta instructed.

  ‘Ntole,’ Zak said quickly. ‘His name was Ntole. I … I know where he lives. If you turn back I can take you to him … But you have to let us go then … Or at least, let her go …’

  ‘Quiet! Nobody is leaving this ship.’ He walked up to Zak. Just half a metre away. ‘Ntole, you say?’

  Zak nodded.

  A pause. Acosta stared at him, his head at a slight angle. Zak kept perfectly still. He didn’t want any hint of deception to show on his face.

  ‘You’re lying.’

  Bea sobbed again.

  ‘I’m not …’ said Zak. ‘I swear it, I’m not …’

  ‘Search him!’

  Suddenly Karlovic had grabbed him and was patting him down. It didn’t take more than ten seconds to find the only item Zak had on him: his iPhone. Karlovic handed it over to the skipper. Acosta examined it with suspicion on his face. ‘I don’t trust toys like this,’ he said. ‘They are too easy to trace. And nobody will be tracing you, my young friend. I can assure you of that.’ With a sneer, he dropped the phone to the floor and stamped on it with the heel of his foot. The glass face splintered and cracked. When Acosta stamped on it a second time, the innards of the phone spilled out. It was clearly useless now.

  The skipper looked back at Zak, then turned to his men. ‘Get me a camera,’ he breathed. He didn’t have to wait long. Karlovic took his own mobile from his pocket and handed it to Acosta. The skipper prodded the keypad in a rather clumsy way, as if he wasn’t used to such toys, as he called them. He knew enough, though, to raise the phone towards Zak and take his photograph. Zak didn’t try to stop him. He knew they’d record his image sooner or later, if they wanted to.

  Acosta handed the phone back to Karlovic. ‘Lock them up,’ he said. ‘Separate cabins.’

  ‘Please …’ Bea repeated. ‘Please …’ Her voice was filled with desperate horror. It did no good. Karlovic grabbed her roughly by her left arm, pulled her to her feet and thrust her in the direction of the door. She stumbled towards it and tripped, falling to the ground again. Zak went to help her up, but she recoiled from him. ‘Get away from me … Get away from me …’ She scrambled up to her feet and shot him a look of total hatred.

  ‘Move,’ Karlovic barked. ‘Both of you. Now!’

  Karlovic had unclipped his MP5 from the sling round his front. He had it pointed at Zak and Bea as they stumbled in silence out of the bridge and along the corridor. For the third time in the last half-hour, Zak passed through the laundry and along the corridor that led to the engine room.

  ‘Stop,’ Karlovic told them. He opened one of the cabin doors. ‘You,’ he said to Bea, ‘in there.’

  Bea looked at Z
ak. ‘I hope you’re pleased with yourself,’ she hissed at him. ‘We’ll probably die on this ship, you know. I don’t understand why you can’t just keep your nose out of things that don’t concern—’

  She was cut off by Karlovic pulling the door shut. Zak casually examined the lock. Yale-type. No need to lock it because it clearly couldn’t be opened from inside. If Zak could get the right tools together, it would be straightforward to pick …

  ‘You want my advice?’ Karlovic said. Zak could see little flecks of pus around the piercings on his eyebrow. ‘Tell el capitán everything he wants to know. I mean it. Everything.’

  ‘There’s nothing more to know.’

  ‘Look, you stupid kid. Maybe you don’t know who you’re dealing with. We’re not idiots. You think we haven’t dealt with worse pests than you? He’ll get the truth out of you somehow. He’ll probably kill you in the end, but trust me – push him too far and you’ll be begging for death anyway.’ He opened the door adjoining Bea’s cabin. ‘Get in there,’ he said, nudging Zak with the MP5. Zak stepped into the dark cabin. The door closed behind him and he heard the sound of a key in the lock.

  It was pitch black in here. He stood for a minute, waiting for his eyes to get used to the dark. But there was no light at all – he couldn’t see a thing. The floor was vibrating with the movement of the ship as he rotated ninety degrees and stretched out his arms, feeling for the wall. There had to be a light in here somewhere. He just needed to find the switch. Then he could see what was in this cabin. See what he could use to get him and Bea out of here …

  His fingertips brushed against the wall. At the same time, he heard a knocking sound. Just one of the many noises of a ship at sea, he told himself as he carried on looking for the light. But ten seconds later he stopped.

  The knocking sound was still going. It was a repeated pattern and it was coming from the wall adjoining Bea’s cabin. Or should he think of it as Bea’s cell? He listened carefully. It was a sequence of short and long knocks.

  Morse code.

  Zak shook his head. It made no sense. Nobody knew who he was. Nobody knew where he was. So why was the girl in the next cabin – the girl who had got him into this mess in the first place – tapping a message to him.