Defender(92)

"Not sure. Civilians. I was checking for Arena," replied Morgan, exhausted. "But I guess it was their boat. Bastard shot them and threw them off. Better get some cops there ASAP."

Terri nodded, she was already calling it in.

Chuck extinguished the NITESUN as he, Terri and Sutherland began searching the endless expanse of the harbour for signs of the fleeing cruiser. The pilot powered the aircraft west toward the Opera House and Harbour Bridge. They struggled to see through the great grey blanket of water, land and sky. The foul weather was hiding the cruiser as though night had fallen, and they were flying without lights or night vision of any kind. At the back of the cargo hold, Morgan checked that his SIG was full of ammunition.

"Got him! Dead ahead coming in on the starboard side," Sutherland yelled, directing the pilot onto target. "How do you want to handle it, Alex?"

"Tell Chuck to get me aboard."





* * *





Victor Lund t was exhilarated.

He'd done it, he'd escaped. What's more, he still had the girl - his bargaining chip if Morgan actually managed to catch up with him. Beautiful! Inspired! If that didn't screw with Morgan's mind, nothing would. Lundt laughed, toasting his success as the Sea Ray skipped across the burgeoning swell. He pushed her up to 27 knots and looked both ways to be sure he had the banks of the harbour in view. I might just have to get me one of these, he told himself.





CHAPTER 62





Across the long bench at the rear of the Sea Ray's open deck, Arena Halls lay still. She had been drifting in and out of consciousness, too exhausted to know where she was. But slowly her awareness was returning. Freezing bullets of water buzzed and stung at her cheeks. Huddled on her side, Arena's arms and legs were clenched foetal-like to maintain what little heat she could retain about her vital organs. Her entire body throbbed. From what? Soon she became aware of an incessant pounding, as though she was being dragged and bounced up and down; every downward collision bringing a new jarring pain along her sodden flank. The weather shrieked at her, plucking her from obliviousness, dropping her straight back into the heart of chaos.

The realisation that she was on a boat, a speed boat, in the middle of a raging storm, struck Arena like a hammer. Suddenly, panic reached for her. The last thing she remembered was men coming for her. But there was more: Hyde Park, being manhandled into a car - by the police? - No, not police. A face came to her - a fierce, merciless face with terrifying, bi-coloured eyes - Victor Lundt. She knew him from photographs. They were the eyes that had sneered at her as his fist came crashing down across her cheek in the Land Rover, the same eyes that sneered back at her now from the controls.

Arena was wearing only what she had on in her suite back at the Regency: a t-shirt, light track pants and trainers. Her teeth were chattering and the extremities of her slender limbs were numb with cold. Where was she? She needed something to shield her from the relentless blast of wind and rain. She was no good to herself or anyone like this.

Arena heard Lundt laughing to himself at the controls. Bastard! She looked around the deck and saw a jacket lying across a large barbeque gas bottle nearby, close to her feet. Was it his? Maybe, though she couldn't be sure, and didn't care. She was freezing. Avoiding his attention, Arena gingerly pulled the jacket across and slipped into it.





* * *





Chuck came in on a direct line with the stern of the Sea Ray. He needed to get as close as possible before Lundt realised they were upon him. They had been lucky so far. The weather had shielded the noise of the chopper's thunderous rotor slap and Chuck didn't want to give Lundt the opportunity to take any rash evasive action that would be difficult to counter in the high winds. Even now, it was suicide to be airborne in these conditions. But with the nose down, Chuck was heading in fast, while in the back the crazy bastard from INTERPOL was preparing to make his move.





* * *





At the wheel, Lundt became like stone. He was no longer jovial, his thoughts focused only on his escape. He needed to disappear without trace, recover his losses and re-establish himself as a legitimate player on the international scene. Nothing could get in the way of that.

The waves were growing more brutal and the boat was smashed harder as Lundt pushed the engines to their limits. The Sea Ray was shuddering at almost 30 knots, but Lund t was resolute. He was wasting no time. He had to keep heading inland and find a concealed spot to drop the

boat, somewhere he could get his hands on a car. The cops would not be expecting him to tackle weather like this.

A fierce bang suddenly rocked the cruiser. A massive wave broke against the bow and then - nothing. The Sea Ray was lifted from the water a full 15 feet, sailing through the air before it came crashing down again. Lundt lost his footing, slipping from the wheel, falling backwards onto the deck. Behind him, Arena was flung from the bench and fell amongst the blood and debris of Lundt's shooting spree. She cried out in pain. Lundt heard and turned to check her.