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The Lethal Target(33)

By:Jim Eldridge

‘No,’ said Robbie. ‘But if she’d gone into the sea, her body would have been found by now. Either it would have come in with the tide, or one of the boats would have spotted something floating.’

Jake’s feeling of hope sank into the pit of his stomach. For a second he’d thought that Robbie had caught sight of Lauren.

‘We need to get the book back,’ said Jake firmly.

‘No,’ said Robbie, glowering at Jake. ‘I need to get the book back so I can destroy it. You want it back so you can give it to MI5 or whoever.’

‘It shouldn’t be destroyed,’ said Jake. ‘The monks buried it so the information in it would be kept safe.’

‘And now it isn’t,’ retorted Robbie. ‘It’s been found, and it’s in the wrong hands.’

‘If we work against each other, we could end up getting in each other’s way,’ Jake pointed out. ‘We stand more chance of getting the book off the Russians if we work together.’

‘And then what?’ challenged Robbie. ‘What do we do? Fight for it? See who wins?’ He gave another snort of derision. ‘You must think I’m an idiot!’

‘No, I don’t,’ said Jake. ‘I think you’re angry, and with good reason. But I don’t think it’ll help get the book or Helen back.’

Jake gestured at a spare crate near one of the upturned boats.

‘Mind if I sit down?’ he asked.

‘Why?’ demanded Robbie. ‘I’ve got nothing to say to you!’

‘For one thing, there’s the secret tunnel,’ said Jake. ‘Rona showed it to me.’

‘That’s no way in,’ said Robbie, shaking his head.

Jake frowned, surprised.

‘We saw it,’ he said. ‘It looks like the best way in. The only way in.’

‘If the Russians have got your girlfriend, she’ll have told them about it,’ said Robbie.

‘No she won’t,’ said Jake firmly.

‘Are you prepared to stake your life on that?’ asked Robbie. ‘I’m not. They killed Uncle Dougie. They won’t have any qualms about doing whatever it takes to make your girlfriend tell them everything she knows. And that includes telling them about the secret tunnel.’

At the thought of Lauren being interrogated — no, tortured — by the Russians Jake felt a sick feeling deep in his stomach.

‘So how are you planning to get in?’ he asked.

Once again, Robbie glowered at him.

‘Wouldn’t you like to know?’ he grunted. ‘I’ve got my own way to get in, and it’s staying my way.’

Jake looked at the angry boy. There was so much he wanted to say to try to convince Robbie that they’d have more chance working together, but he could tell by the boy’s manner that right now nothing he said would persuade him.

‘OK,’ said Jake. ‘But if you change your mind . . .’

‘I won’t,’ snapped Robbie curtly.

Jake nodded resignedly. Then he turned and headed back towards Craigmount.



As Jake walked across the forecourt towards the entrance to the guest house, he saw Pam Gordon hurrying out towards him.

‘Where have you been?’ she demanded. ‘I’ve been looking for you!’

‘Talking to Robbie MacClain,’ he said. ‘Trying to get him to work with us.’

‘Any luck?’

Jake shook his head.

‘I’m afraid not,’ he said.

Pam Gordon held out a sheet of paper to him.

‘Anyway, you’ve got your deal,’ she said.

Jake snatched the paper off her and read it quickly, and then more thoroughly. It agreed that, if Jake were to offer his full assistance and the book was recovered and handed to ‘the appropriate services’, then Lauren Graham would be allowed to return legally to the United Kingdom, and Jacob Wells could return to his former job as press officer at the Department of Science. The letter was signed by Gareth Findlay-Weston, and dated that day.

‘The wonders of modern communications technology,’ she said. ‘So all you have to do is get the book.’

Suddenly she collapsed in front of Jake, uttering a moan of pain, thudding down on to the gravel of the forecourt. Jake was dimly aware of hearing what sounded like the echo of a shot from a distance. Then something plucked at Jake’s sleeve and smashed into a nearby water barrel. He was being shot at! He turned to dive behind the water barrel, and as he did so he felt a blow on the side of his head and then . . .





Chapter 19



‘Where am I?’

The voice seemed to come from a long way away. Then he realised it was his own voice.

‘You’re in your room at Craigmount.’