The Lethal Target(43)

We’d have been caught if we’d stayed on shore, reflected Jake. Well done, Robbie.

They were lucky that there were clouds in the sky, obscuring the moon, otherwise they’d have made a sitting target. As it was, Jake felt nervous the whole time they were out on the water, exposed. All the time he was waiting for a torch beam to turn their way and pick them out, and guns to begin firing.

Jake kept his eyes fixed on the Russians on the cliffs. The lights from their torches were specks now, small from this distance.

‘We’re coming in to land,’ whispered Lauren beside him.

Jake turned his head and saw the heavily wooded tiny island fast approaching. Robbie stopped rowing strongly, and let the small boat drift in. As they felt the sand and shingle beneath them pull the boat to a halt, Robbie dropped the oars and leapt out into the water.

‘Come on,’ he said. ‘We’ve got to get it out of sight.’

Jake and Lauren dropped overboard and joined Robbie in the water, which was past their knees. The coldness of it took Jake’s breath away.

The three of them worked together to drag the small boat up on to the shore, and then continued dragging it over shingle into the thick wood that came right down to the beach.

Robbie disappeared into the wood, and reappeared dragging branches, which he proceeded to put over the boat, concealing it further.

‘We’ll stay near the shore until just before dawn comes,’ he told the other two. ‘If you try and scramble through this wood in the dark, there’s a chance you’ll put your foot in a hole and twist your ankle.’

They settled down in the cover of the trees.

‘I’m freezing,’ said Jake, indicating his soaking-wet trousers.

‘You’ll be even colder if you take them off,’ advised Robbie. ‘The best thing you can do is keep them on and let them dry on you once the sun starts to come up.’

‘I wonder when the police will be starting the search?’ asked Jake.

‘My guess is mid-morning,’ said Robbie. ‘Remember, they have to wait for the tides to bring the boats over from the mainland.’

‘So all we have to do is stay hidden until the search starts.’ Lauren nodded.

‘And hope we can get their attention so they get to us before the Russians do,’ added Jake.





Chapter 23



They took turns to keep watch, one awake and watching the far shore while the other two slept. At least, that was the theory, but Jake couldn’t sleep. Too much had happened, and now the Russians were just a short distance away, searching for them. The Russians would be after the book. For a fleeting moment Jake thought about giving it back to them, that might save their lives. Then he dismissed the idea. The Russians — or Muir — had already killed to protect the search for the book. Jake was sure there would be no mercy shown to them if Muir and the Russians caught them. They’d be as good as dead, whether they handed over the book or not.

He stayed awake for the rest of the night, closing his eyes now and then and hoping to rest, but every tiny noise made his eyes open and his body jerk up and shoot a look towards the shore. It was a relief when the first streaks of light began to break up the night sky as dawn arrived.

Lauren was on watch, and Jake saw her straining her eyes over the water, to where the search was still continuing.

‘What’s happening?’ he asked.

‘Nothing,’ said Lauren.

‘We need to go inland now,’ said Robbie’s voice behind them. ‘Up to higher ground.’

Jake turned to him.

‘Did you get any sleep?’ he asked.

Robbie shook his head.

‘No,’ he said. ‘You two?’

Both Jake and Lauren shook their heads.

‘Too much adrenalin pumping,’ said Lauren.

‘Well, let’s hope tiredness doesn’t slow us down,’ said Robbie. ‘Now it’s daylight, we’re going to need to be on our guard more than ever.’

He made his way into the dense woodland that fringed the tiny island, and Jake and Lauren followed him as he pushed his way between trees and bushes.

The ground rose sharply, and they found themselves climbing. Robbie stopped when they came to a scattering of stones in a clearing. Some of the stones were lying about on the ground, others were heaped in piles.

‘What’s this?’ asked Jake.

‘Patrick’s house,’ said Robbie. ‘The island is called Patrick’s Island after a hermit who lived here hundreds and hundreds of years ago. Some reckon it was Saint Patrick himself, but I don’t think so. Anyway, the stones are all that’s left of his house.’ He pointed upwards. ‘From up there we’ll be able to get a good view of Mull, and we might be able to signal from here once we see the search parties.’