Defender(90)

"Don't know. They must have lifted her from the hotel..."

"The traffic'sforced them north," the radio blared with directions from the POLAIR chopper. "They're off William Street, before the Coca-Cola sign, and have gone left onto Darlinghurst Road. Copy?"

"Got it," said Sutherland. "Got any moves, Tony?"

Mugan remained silent, but yanked the wheel hard left and took a back road, avoiding the gridlock between them and Darlinghurst Road. He saw gaps between cars and buildings materialise before they existed, and guided them effortlessly through it all. The wailing siren with flashing red and blue lights chartered a course through the narrow streets and eclectic buildings forming the periphery of King's Cross.

Seconds later, they bounced out onto Darlinghurst Road gaining on Lundt and his men as they powered past Fitzroy Gardens. Amongst the congestion of the roads and hellish weather, Mugan was unfazed. He planted his foot hard against the floor and squeezed them through the centre of both directions of traffic. Despite the siren, the other drivers erupted, their unanimous protests hollering as one.

"Piss off!" Mugan cried to no one in particular, and drove on. He dragged the car fast through the sharp left alongside the HMAS Kuttabul Navy Base, and then, with the finesse of a world-class rally driver, had them through the hairpin turn onto the Cowper Wharf Roadway.

"This is POLAIR, you've got 'em! They're in the centre of Woolloomooloo, aiming for Finger Wharf Could be going for a boat? Yep, he's stopped. Someone's getting out. Looks tall. Dark hair. He's dragging someone else with him. A woman. Blonde. She seems out of it."

"Oh, Christ! Come on, Tony!" Morgan cried. "Stamp on it!"

Mugan responded. The storm had set in and the city was on the verge of darkness. The police car slewed and swerved dangerously through the wet, tight roads as the officer struggled to regain his vision.

"Dave," Morgan yelled over the noise of siren, storm and engine, "if he gets to a boat, we've lost them. There isn't time to get a police launch out. I'm going on foot, but you'll need to get that chopper to put down somewhere close. We're going to need it."

Sutherland grabbed a portable radio. Mugan saw the Land Rover taking off. He slid the car across two lanes of traffic and handbraked to a dead stop.

"Stay with the Land Rover, man!" Sutherland yelled back at the police officer as he took the hand-held radio and hobbled onto the wharf. Morgan had already disappeared into the hammering walls of rain.





CHAPTER 60





Finger Wharf at Woolloomooloo was as good as empty but for the well to-do few, riding out the storm from inside the exclusive restaurants along the western edge of the pier. Those who stayed on were intrigued by the appearance of a man racing past with a woman draped across his shoulders. Was it a prank? Or was there something sinister at play?

During the precious seconds they spent in considered speculation, safe and dry, another man sprinted past in pursuit. What on earth? Is it police business? Could I have another red, please?

Victor Lundt was too focused on finding a boat to worry about looking behind him. With the girl on his shoulders and the kicking he'd just received from Morgan, his progress was not optimum. But there were a dozen luxury cruisers moored alongside the wharf and his predatory stare scanned for the opportunity that he knew would arise. By now, the rain was attacking horizontally across the harbour, firing in bursts at his face and eyes. He stumbled with exhaustion and the strain of the girl's weight bouncing up and down on his battered back. He had no idea that Alex Morgan had just stepped onto the pier and at that moment was hurtling towards him at breakneck speed.

Then, Lundt saw his chance.

Two men, wealthy corporate types, had just pulled a fancy cruiser alongside, having aborted what would have been a sunny afternoon on Sydney Harbour. By the way they were carrying themselves, Lundt surmised that they'd been drinking.

Perfect!

With Arena limp across his shoulders, Lundt stomped along the jetty, straight for the cruiser, a late model Sea Ray 355 Sundancer. Not much change out of half a million bucks, 35 feet long with Twin Mercurys, each with 320 horsepower. It was ideal. Hell, he would take it as far as he could, and ditch it before anybody even knew it was missing. But he had to be quick, and he didn't need passengers.

"Oh, thank God!" Lundt yelled as he arrived alongside, looking dishevelled and, above all, genuine. "Guys, I need your help," he said. "My wife's in a bad way and the bloody traffic is a killer..."

"You got it, mate," said the older of the two men, blearily. "Get her on board and tell us what we can do."

The two men, a father and son, reached out and took Arena from him with caring, neighbourly hands. Stepping around an assortment of camping gear and a barbeque securely roped off on the deck, they laid her down on a luxuriously padded bench seat before bringing Lundt aboard. The Sea Ray was thudding so hard against the jetty they almost dropped Lundt as the waves lifted the boat without warning. The men were trying to mask their inebriation and respond seriously to the plight of this poor man.