Double or Die Page 27

  ‘Don’t say that,’ said James. ‘You’re tempting fate. You say something like that and five minutes later there’s a huge explosion and the whole world blows up in your face.’

  ‘Please,’ said Kelly. ‘I don’t want to think about the trouble we’re in.’

  ‘Don’t tell me the fearless Kelly Kelly is scared.’

  ‘Course I’m scared,’ said Kelly. ‘Who wouldn’t be? And I’m not used to sleeping on me own, neither. I’ve never spent more than five minutes by myself. Come on, get under the blankets, James Bond… And no funny stuff, all right?’

  James was too cold and too tired, and, he had to admit to himself, too scared, to argue, so he crawled on to the big double bed next to Kelly. They wrapped themselves in the blankets and they soon felt warm and drowsy.

  ‘Tell me about your life,’ said Kelly sleepily. ‘I want to know all about you.’

  James told her about his childhood, moving between Switzerland, England and Scotland. He told her about his parents dying in a climbing accident in France when he was eleven. He told her about his Aunt Charmian who he lived with in Kent, and his life at Eton.

  He never usually talked about any of this. At school you had to appear to be tough, you didn’t want to be called a sap or a mummy’s boy, so you talked about other things, about motor cars and cricket, about wars and battles and who had punched who and why. Other boys could go home in the holidays. They could be children again and hug their mothers and talk any nonsense they liked, but not James.

  He had no one.

  Here in the dark of the cabin, though, he could tell this girl everything. It didn’t matter that she was soon fast asleep and snoring. He carried on talking and looking at the lights of the Amoras through the windows and picturing Nemesis in her hold.

  He had Fairburn, but the Russians had the machine.

  This wouldn’t be over until the machine was safely out of the way.

  It was all or nothing.

  He had to shoot the moon.

  27

  Wake Up or Die

  James was awake. One moment he had been in a deep and dreamless sleep, and the next his eyes were open and staring at the ceiling.

  He had heard something – a footstep – the unsleeping sentinel at the back of his brain had detected it and sent out a signal…

  Wake up. Somebody’s there. Danger.

  He lay perfectly still, his ears straining for any sound, his eyes adjusting to the dim early-morning light in the cabin.

  And then he heard it again. A clink, a thump and a shuffle.

  There were people moving about on the ship.

  He clamped a hand over Kelly’s mouth and gently shook her awake. Her eyes snapped open in panic and she glared at him, ready to fight. He put a finger to his lips and held her still.

  ‘There are people here,’ he whispered in her ear. ‘Keep quiet.’

  Kelly nodded. He’d say one thing for her: she may know how to talk, but she also knew when to shut up.

  He took his hand away and beckoned her to follow him.

  They slid off the bed and crept next door into the living room, where James put his ear to the door. He could hear nothing. Then there was another footfall above them. James looked up and nodded at the ceiling.

  ‘It sounds like they’re on the next deck,’ he whispered. ‘We need to get Fairburn.’

  He opened the door just enough to look out into the corridor. Nothing.

  They darted out and in a moment were in Fairburn’s suite.

  He was asleep on his bed, tangled in blankets, looking old and tired. James repeated the process he had gone through with Kelly, silencing him before waking him. It took Fairburn longer to surface, not sure of where he was at first, his hair sticking up madly in all directions, but at last, still looking groggy and confused, he swung his legs off the bed and stood up.

  ‘What time is it?’ he said, checking his watch. ‘Six o’clock.’ He shivered and coughed. James shushed him again and glanced out of the window. The Amoras was still there, though the lights were out and she was slowly being swallowed by a fog that was rolling across the dock.

  The three of them tiptoed out into the corridor, but they hadn’t gone three paces when someone appeared around the corner.

  It was one of Babushka’s stone-faced secret policemen. He raised a pistol and shouted something in Russian.

  James turned and saw the second Russian advancing from the other end of the corridor.

  ‘Stay with me,’ he yelled, ducking into the steward’s quarters. He had spotted a door last night while he was searching for the blankets and he prayed to God that it would lead through to another corridor.

  There were no windows in here, so it was very dark. He tried to remember the way through the maze of small rooms, but crashed into a bulkhead. As he staggered back, though, he bumped into a door and his hand fell on the familiar shape of a handle. He turned it and the door popped open.

  ‘Through here,’ he said.

  The door did, indeed, lead into another corridor. There was a patch of brightness to the left where light was spilling down a stairwell.

  ‘Run,’ he shouted, dragging Kelly along beside him. There were shouts of Russian from behind and the sound of pounding feet. There was a shot and the whine of a bullet passing overhead. It hit a light fitting and ricocheted away, rattling and hissing.

  ‘If they’d wanted to kill us, they would have,’ Fairburn yelled. ‘They want us alive.’

  ‘They want you alive,’ said James. ‘I doubt they care very much about me and Kelly.’

  ‘That’s a cheery thought,’ said Kelly as another shot rang out behind them.

  James realised that their only advantage was being more familiar with the layout of the ship than their pursuers, but it was only a tiny advantage.

  They leapt up the stairs to the next deck and James took them on a twisting, turning route through the ship.

  ‘Can your machine be destroyed?’ he yelled to Fairburn as they ran though the galley.

  ‘Of course,’ Fairburn shouted back. ‘You’d simply have to take a sledgehammer to it, but it wouldn’t be quick.’

  They charged up a companionway and back into the public part of the Empress. They were just managing to keep ahead of the Russians, but as they raced into a dining room they saw two men.

  One was a young Russian sailor. The other was Deighton, Charnage’s thick-set butler.

  ‘You again,’ he grunted. ‘Well, I’m ready for you this time, boy.’ He flexed his meaty hands, formed them into fists and advanced slowly, almost casually, across the dining-room floor.

  The sailor grinned and followed him, not in the least worried about a frail professor, a young boy and a girl.

  That was his big mistake.

  James grabbed a chair and knocked Deighton to the ground. Kelly quickly caught on and picked up another chair, smashing it over the sailor’s head. He put up his arms to defend himself and there was a crack as his forearm snapped. He fell to his knees with a howl of pain.

  He was out of the fight.

  Kelly and James then bombarded Deighton with every chair they could pick up. He was strong. He almost got to his feet again, but James viciously kicked a table towards him and the edge of it struck him at the base of his skull and he went down for the last time.

  The three of them then turned and ran, but, as they left the room, Kelly, who was first out, rushed straight into the arms of one of the Russians. He was as solid as a tractor and didn’t move an inch as she careered into him. He held her easily.

  And that was his big mistake.

  Kelly erupted into a wild frenzy, kicking, biting, scratching and twisting crazily. The man let her go with an angry curse and pulled his pistol out of his pocket. James yanked Kelly back into the dining room and, as the Russian tried to follow, his pistol held out in front of him, James kicked the door in his face, crushing his wrist against the frame. He dropped the gun and retreated.

  Fairburn snatched u
p the fallen weapon and fired wildly at the door, the bullets punching through the dark wood.

  They didn’t wait to see whether he had hit the Russian, and ran across to the other side of the room. The sailor with the broken arm made a feeble attempt to stop them, but backed away when Fairburn aimed the gun at him.

  James had been worried about where the second Russian was and now, as he ran out on to the deck, he found out. The man had circled the ship and was waiting for them, his gun at the ready.

  Fairburn let fly another clumsy barrage, the shots going in all directions except towards the Russian. It was enough, though, to make him throw himself behind a ventilation cowling and take cover.

  James glanced over the side. They were on the deck above the gangplank.

  ‘Quick,’ he said, climbing over the rail, ‘we’re nearly there.’

  He lowered himself a little way then dropped down on to the gangplank below. He landed with a thump and tumbled down the slope before coming to a halt tangled in the safety chains along the side.

  Kelly was next, landing with such a crash that the gangplank swayed dangerously and James feared it might give way completely. It held fast, but as he looked up he saw the Russian grab Fairburn and try to haul him back over the railing on to the deck.

  James had no way of getting back up there to help.

  ‘Quick, Kelly,’ he yelled, crouching down and making a stirrup out his hands. Kelly put one foot into the stirrup and he boosted her up, almost throwing her into the air. She grabbed hold of the railing and scrambled up to the next deck.

  The Russian was still leaning over, wrestling with Fairburn, who wasn’t going to go without a fight. Kelly sank her teeth into the Russian’s ear. He screamed and loosened his grip on Fairburn, who turned and grabbed hold of the man’s jacket. There was a brief, fierce tussle and the next thing James knew the Russian was toppling over the railing. He struck the edge of the gangplank and spun down into the black water below.

  James had no time to celebrate, however, because at that moment he was struck bodily and sent sprawling down the gangplank. Deighton had run down a deck and come barging out of the ship. James slithered on to the quayside and managed to get to his feet, ready to fight. But to his dismay he saw that there were more sailors from the Amoras waiting on the wharf.

  Kelly and Fairburn were manhandled off the ship. There was no point resisting, the game was up, and the three of them were herded into the centre of a ring of jeering men.

  ‘Drop the gun,’ said Deighton, and Fairburn let it fall to the ground. He looked sad and scared and done in.

  ‘Sorry,’ James said to him quietly. ‘We almost made it.’

  ‘Never mind,’ said Fairburn. ‘It was quite exhilarating, really, but the odds were always stacked against us.’

  ‘That’s the problem when you’re trying to shoot the moon,’ said James. ‘If one bit of your plan goes wrong, you’re sunk.’

  Then he became aware of a noise. A hum of voices, and the sound of feet, like a herd of cows on the move. The men in the circle looked round questioningly. It was impossible to tell where the noise was coming from in the fog which now shrouded the docks, but it was definitely getting louder and nearer.

  ‘What is it?’ said Fairburn, blinking. ‘What’s going on?’

  There was a crash and James looked round to see that the gate to the dock had been forced open.

  An army of men was approaching. Tough dockers, many armed with clubs or cargo hooks. And at their head was Red, with Perry Mandeville at his side and some of the older girls from Kelly’s gang, the Monstrous Regiment.

  The army surged forward relentlessly and the knot of sailors around James was quickly overwhelmed. The dockers swarmed over them, clubs and hooks raining down, and the sailors were beaten to the ground. They didn’t stand a chance. Sheer force of numbers swamped them. There were screams and yelps, dull thumps and the sounds of skulls cracking. There was a splash as someone was thrown into the water, then another and another. Soon James was at the centre of a huge brawl.

  Someone grabbed him by the shoulder and he spun round, ready to fight. It was Red. He grinned at James.

  ‘Can’t leave you alone for a moment, can I?’ he said. ‘If you’d let anything happen to my little sister I’d have killed you.’

  ‘I can look after meself, thank you very much,’ said Kelly.

  ‘Looks like we got here just in time,’ said Perry. ‘I was worried I m-might m-miss out on all the fun.’

  ‘Bloody hell, Jimmy-boy,’ said Red, ‘I thought you was posh, this bloke takes the biscuit.’

  ‘What are you doing here?’ said James.

  ‘I spent half of last night looking for you two down here,’ said Red. ‘Then I went back home to get help.’

  ‘We m-met in the pub,’ said Perry. ‘I wanted to go to the police, but the Kellys aren’t too keen on the law.’

  James turned to Kelly. She was wide-eyed and breathless. ‘I need your help,’ he said. ‘I want you to get Fairburn well away from here. We’re not safe until he’s out of the docks. Take him on the railway, it’ll be quicker. Take him back to your house. Perry will go with you. I’ll catch you up.’

  ‘I want to stay with you,’ said Kelly.

  ‘Go,’ said James. ‘Get him to safety. I need to talk to Red for a moment. We’ll be right behind you.’

  ‘Come on,’ said Perry, grabbing Kelly by the wrist. ‘Once James Bond’s m-mind’s m-made up, there’s no use in arguing.’ He pulled her away through the tangle of fighting men and Fairburn followed, shouting his thanks back to James.

  The battle was nearly over, just about the only one of Charnage’s men still standing was Deighton, who was swinging a crate hook round his head and yelling obscenities.

  A second later and he was down, felled by a blow from behind.

  James stooped down to pick up the pistol that Fairburn had dropped.

  ‘You’re planning something stupid, aren’t you?’ said Red.

  ‘Yes,’ said James. ‘I’m going to try and destroy the Nemesis machine.’

  ‘I’m coming with you,’ said Red.

  ‘I’d be too worried about you,’ said James.

  ‘I owe you one,’ said Red.

  James understood.

  ‘Follow me,’ he said, then climbed over the edge of the wharf. He quickly made his way down the ladder to where the rowing boat still lay moored at the bottom. He looked up. There was no sign of Red. Maybe he’d changed his mind. But no, in a moment his familiar shock of orange hair appeared over the side of the wharf and he climbed on to the ladder, followed by two bruisers and a boy who looked not much older than James.

  ‘Thought we might need some back-up,’ Red explained as he clambered into the boat. ‘This is me Uncle Ray, his mate Harry and me cousin Billy Jones.’

  Billy smiled at James. He was a good-looking lad with eyes as dark as his hair.

  ‘Billy works on the ships,’ said Red. ‘He’ll know his way around. The other two are for knocking heads together.’

  Ray and Harry grinned at James. They looked like men who enjoyed a fight, and had only about eight teeth between them.

  As they settled on to the benches a Russian sailor tried to climb aboard. James fended him off with an oar and they slipped out along the side of the Empress and into the open water.

  ‘Hey, Jimmy-boy,’ said Red, straining at the oars, ‘you and my sis seem to be getting on all right.’

  James grunted.

  ‘She’s always just been an annoying little sister to me.’

  ‘Shut up and keep rowing,’ said James.

  The fog that now lay over the docks was thick and yellow, and, although the day was brightening, they could see no more than about twenty feet in any direction. The Amoras was a just a darker patch of grey in a blanket of nothingness.

  As they watched, though, powerful fog lights came on and they heard the sound of her engines starting up.

  ‘They’re going to try and slip away in
the fog,’ said James.

  ‘They’re crazy,’ said Red.

  ‘I thought you already knew that,’ said James.

  ‘Do you really think we can stop them?’

  ‘We can try.’

  28

  Out of the Fog

  As they neared the Amoras, they could see that she was still roped to the two tugboats, which were sitting at anchor. Water was foaming above the propellers at her stern and she was starting to move forward.

  ‘The stupid berks are going to try and get her out under her own steam,’ said Red. ‘It’d be hard enough normally, but in this fog it’ll be near-on impossible.’

  ‘They’re desperate,’ said James.

  ‘We can’t stop her with this rowing boat,’ said Red.

  ’We’ll have to board her,’ said James. ‘Then try and put her out of action. Half the crew’s back on the dockside, so there shouldn’t be too much opposition.’

  A gangplank had been lowered down the side of the Amoras, ready for the returning crewmen. James steered the rowing boat alongside and the five of them stepped off. The Amoras was steaming ahead slowly, straining the ropes that were still fastened to the tugboats.

  James and the others clattered up out of the fog on to the deck, where a startled sailor was on lookout duty nursing a tin mug of hot tea. Ray and Harry made short work of him and, before he knew what was happening, they had knocked him cold. They then hid his body behind a lifeboat.

  ‘Doesn’t look like there’s anyone else about,’ said Red. ‘They’ll need every spare hand to get her under way.’

  Both ends of the ship were completely invisible in the fog, and the air was cold and damp. A thin film of moisture covered James’s face and his clothes felt heavy.

  They crept along towards the bridge deck that jutted up like a tower amidships. The fog not only made seeing difficult, it muffled all sounds, so that there was an eerie stillness and silence, the noise of the ship’s engines seemingly coming from far, far away.

  They found an open door and went inside.

  ‘The machine’s this way,’ said James, leading the others down into the ship. They passed the galley, which was once more deserted, and James remembered his adventures of last night with the cat in the bucket. It all seemed a lifetime ago.