WILL TIME WAIT: Boxed set of 3 bestselling 'ticking clock' thrillers (52 page)

Kerry’s
voice came over the radio.  “Does he look okay?”

“If
they’ve hurt him...” John said.

“One
guy’s holding onto him.”  Dylan reported.  “But he looks fine. 
Scared, but otherwise okay.”

“Stay
sharp, people,” Steve said.  “You all know what to do.”

Dylan
lowered the binoculars and faced me.  He nodded toward the knife sticking
out of the tree, and then pointed to his left.  “Remember, Jenna. 
Anything goes wrong and you’re to race across the log ladders, head for the far
platform, clip your harness onto the zip wire, and get the hell out of the park
by the back entrance.”

I gulped
and nodded.

Dylan
turned and stared through the binoculars again.  “They’re hovering in the
car park.  Pointing around.”  He paused.  “You’re on, Jenna.”

I
unhooked my radio and turned it to the megaphone channel.  Once I pushed the
talk button, the game of swap would begin.  I took a deep breath, pressed
it, and said in my clearest and loudest voice, “Walk around the lake and head
up to the fire.”  I gasped.  My words came out squeaky rather than
steely.  “Bring Elliot.”  I took my finger off the talk button,
lowered my radio, and stood next to Dylan on the platform, breathing in relief
that my first task was over.

 “Okay,”
he said, lowering the binoculars.  “Good.  They’re on the move. 
Let’s get this over and done with quickly.”  He walked along the
platform.  “I need to go to the other side, help John grab Elliot when we
do the switch.”  He pointed to one of the ropes tied to the
railings.  “On our signal, Jenna, release this rope to lower the
drugs.  Got it?”

I
nodded.  “Be careful.”

“You,
too.  I’ll only be over that side in the trees.”  He lifted a foot
off the platform then paused.  “If any whiff of trouble comes your way...
you’ll see my face!”  He blew a kiss, then abseiled to the ground and
disappeared. 

It
should, and hopefully would, be a straight forward switch, but already the
clamp of worry squeezed me.  The LED lights lent a soft blue glow to the
trees in front.  I stared beyond the twinkling trunks, impatient to see
Elliot enter the clearing.  The wind wrapped its velvety sweep around me,
blowing my hair into my eyes. 

Too
busy worrying about Dylan, Elliot, the plan... I didn’t notice the brightness
in the car park to my right until I heard a door slam in the distance. 
Oh,
crap.  Kerry’s neighbours have brought backup.
 John hadn’t
warned us that this could happen.  I spun on my heels to look. 

A
second car drove through the entrance gates, throwing more light onto the car
park.  There were now three vehicles plus ours.  I brought the
binoculars up to my eyes for a closer look.  I felt for my radio then
flinched on recognizing the cars.  Numerous people got out and stood in
the headlight beams.  Their presence screamed disaster and struck me hard.

Then
someone dragged a female out of the back seat.

Shit. 
No, it can’t be.
  My stomach collapsed into a sickening
sinkhole. 
How did they find us?
  I rose up on tiptoes and
looked again to confirm that hell was no myth.  It wasn’t.  In my
eyes, hell was a group of vicious men – living, breathing, and entering this
park with a hostage.  Kate.

I
yanked the radio
off my belt, and choked words out of my tight throat.  “I-it’s all gone
wrong.”  I paused.  Oh crap!  My voice had broadcasted through
the park.  I switched channels and spoke again.  “W-we have to...”

“Eh?”
Steve replied.  “What’s up, Jen?”

“Abort!”
I finally croaked.  “Kate’s here!”

“She’s
what?” Dylan’s shocked voice blasted out of my radio.

“No. 
That’s not possible,” Steve said.

“Well,
she’s here, surrounded by some nasty looking men.”  Fear coursed through
my veins. 

John’s
panicked voice came over the radio.  “You weren’t supposed to phone them
until we got Elliot.”

“I
didn’t... I ... I haven’t phoned anyone.”

“How
many people?”  Dylan cut in, his electronic voice bleating in my ear.

 I
looked through the binoculars again.  More men piled out of the cars.
 
Who the hell had told them about this place? 
It wouldn’t
have been Kate.
 “There’s five men, I think.  Plus Kate and...
 Joe’s here, too.  Oh, there’s another guy getting out, he’s on the
phone.”  Any confidence I had in our original plan died on the spot. 
We’d be nailing jelly to a ceiling - it was never going to work.  And
there was now no way I could try to get a discreet message to Joe to persuade
him to switch sides.

“Guns?”

 “If
you mean that thing pointing at Kate’s head... then yes.  Damn it.”

“This
is a first-rate cock-up,” John cawed through the radio.

“How
the hell did they find us?” Steve snorted.

I
put the radio to my mouth.  “Let’s abort.”

Silence
did a few laps over the airwaves.  I could sense everyone’s brains ticking
over. 

“Give
up and let the cops handle it,” Dylan suggested.

“It’s
too late,” John said.  “Elliot’s on his way up.  I can see him now.”

Dylan
sighed.  “Geordie will see the fire and head straight for it.  We
can’t stop him.  Where’s your mobile, Jen?  That’s what he wants.”

“Oh,
crap!” John said.  “It’s still hanging from the tree.  I forgot all
about it when those joyriders showed up.”

“Damn,”
Steve spat.  “If they get their hands on that phone, we’re done for.”

“Don’t
panic,” Dylan said.  “If that’s what he wants, let him have it.  I
made a copy of the voicemail.”

“Look,”
Steve said.  “Either we deal with both groups, here and now, or stay
hidden, call the cops and hope these monsters don’t whip both Kate and Elliot
away before they arrive.”

“I’m
not leaving Elliot,” Kerry said.

“Nor
am I,” John said firmly.

“Then
let’s speed things up,” Steve said.  “We’ve got maybe a four or five
minute gap to grab Elliot from Machete, before the other gang gets up
here.  Someone will have to climb a tree and try to get a signal on a
phone to call the cops.  If we play this right, we might still be able to
make it look like the gangs are meeting to do a drug deal.  Same
plan.  Different venue.”

“Agreed,”
Kerry said.  “Once I have Elliot, I’ll phone the police myself.”

“What
are they doing now, Jenna?” Dylan asked.

I
looked through the binoculars and gulped.  “Oh, hell.  They’re
running this way.”

“Running?”
Steve said.  “Okay, everyone, we need to work fast.  Very fast.”

Steve
and Dylan started rattling off a spontaneous plan over their radios. 
Distractions, separation, stunt ideas as precautions...  Had they
forgotten that Kerry, John and I were just ordinary people?

I
lowered the binoculars and listened to the radio.  I was too wired to
understand everything, but heard Steve saying he would rig up some more tricks,
traps, and the fire hose while John dealt with Machete.  Dylan was to
cover him. 

Machete
should have entered the clearing with Elliot by now.  What was taking him
so long to get up here? 

I
waited on the platform, nibbling my fingernails.  The rustling of leaves
sounded like evil whispers all around me.  A moment later, Kerry’s
neighbours strode into the lake end of the clearing dragging Elliot by the
arm.  The men paused, and searched the dark forest for activity.  I
shuffled back and spied on them from behind the safety of the tree trunk. 
Why are they just standing there? 
Move it or we’ll run out of time.

John
spoke over the megaphone.  “Walk over to the fire.  Hurry.  We
don’t have all day.”  They wandered over.  Slowly.  Too
slowly.  Perhaps they suspected it was a trap. 
Hurry up.

“Get
ready to lower the drugs, Jenna,” Steve said through my radio.  “We’ll
have to be quick.” 

While
Machete and his gang took their time edging over to the fire, I put my hand on
the rope, ready to release it.  Then, a shadowed figure - and I didn’t
know who - emerged a few steps out of the trees on the other side of the clearing. 

“Who’s
that?” Machete said, spinning on the spot.  “Where’s my stuff?”

“Give
me Elliot.”  It was John, a vague glowing figure in the firelight. 
“Then we’ll lower your bag and you can...” 

A
familiar and chilling voice interrupted him from not too far away.  “No
one move!” 

I
dipped down and stared through a patch in the leaves.  The second group
were sprinting up the last stretch of slope at the side of the lake, dragging
Kate by the arm.

“Who’s
that?” Machete shouted, looking toward the lake.

“Jenna!”
Geordie said.

I
flinched.

“You’re
not getting away from me twice,” he bellowed, and then fired a shot over the
drug dealers’ heads on entering the opposite end of the clearing. 

“Jesus!”
they cried, ducking down.

“I
know you’re here somewhere, Jenna.  Show yourself!”

I
crushed my lips between my teeth to keep from making a sound.   My
panic notched up several gears.

One
of the drug dealers – a guy dressed in a red shirt - grabbed Elliot around the
throat and turned to Geordie.  “Who the fuck are you?”

“Step
away, John,” Steve ordered over the radio.  “You’re no use if you’re
dead.”

John
took a few strides back into the shadows then hesitated.  My heart went
out to him.  He was so close to touching Elliot, yet if he grabbed for
him...

The
man holding Kate pointed a gun at the drug dealers as Geordie and his gang
neared them.  “Now, that’s not a very friendly welcome,” he said, in a
low, sinister voice.  His Geordie accent thickened.  “Know these
folk, Kate?”

“John!”
Steve squawked through the radio again.  “Get back!  Now!”

Kate
jerked forward.  He must have pushed her.  “No... I-I... never saw
them before,” she answered, her voice dry and spotty.  He must have shoved
her again because she stumbled forward and fell to her knees. 
“Idiot!  Don’t touch me again.”

“Why
the fuck are
you
lot here?” one of the drug dealers snarled.  

Red-shirt
guy, using Elliot as a shield, glanced at Geordie then looked to the left.

John
had gone, retreated back into the woods.  It must have killed him to walk
away from his son.

“Where’s
Jenna?”  Geordie grabbed Kate by the elbow and pulled her to her
feet.  They walked to the opposite side of the fire where he spun
around.  While his group of men stared across the fire, keeping an eye on the
drug dealers, Geordie stared up into the trees.  “What’s going on?” he
yelled into the darkness.  “Who are these people?  I want Jenna, and
I want her mobile.”

“And
I want my package,” Machete shouted.

The
megaphone whined and screeched, and then John’s voice came through it. 
“We know why you are all here.  Throw your weapons into the bushes behind
you, and then we’ll trade.”

“Not
a chance,” Geordie said.

The
men began to point and whisper in their groups, but I couldn’t hear the
words.  I dipped my head, trying to see what was going on without getting
spotted. 

Standing
next to Machete, Red-shirt guy shouted, “Show yourselves.  John? 
Kerry?  Give us the stuff and then we’ll release the boy.”

Elliot
started crying and shouted, “Mummy.”  He tried to run away but Machete
held him back.

Dylan’s
voice came quietly through the radio on my belt.  “Jen, Jenna,” he
whispered.  “Distraction.  Now.”

I
picked up a rock from the sack.  After hurling it into the bushes to my
right, I peered down toward the fire. 

One
man, near Kate, with a bandage taped over his cheek, cocked his head toward the
trees in front of me.  Then another weaved his way into them. 

I
pushed up on tiptoes and glimpsed Elliot hovering near the fire.  His
hunched body and gloomy expression filled me with sadness.  The other men
looked up and pointed at the bags swaying high above. 

One
of the guys from Elliot’s side disappeared into the trees.  If Dylan had
been right earlier, he was likely searching for the source of John’s voice. 

If
all went according to plan, Steve and Dylan would take down both of the men
who’d disappeared into the bushes.  I pressed my hand over my chest,
praying for everyone’s safety.

Leaves
rustled, twigs snapped, and I heard a soft thump somewhere below my
platform.  I threw two more fist-sized rocks randomly into the woods, then
shrank back for a second, afraid of being seen. 

The
men next to Kate spun toward the soft bangs and rustles as the rocks hit the
ground.

The
pair who’d braved the trees did not return to their groups.  

John’s
voice boomed out from high up in the woods again.  “Send the boy and woman
to the bench, or we’ll torch the goods and call the cops.” 

Burn
them? 
Did
John even know what he was saying?  With the phone and drugs gone, we’d
have no bargaining power.  Both gangs could just kill us all.

“Go
ahead,” Geordie shouted, standing next to Kate, talking to the trees.  He
raised a hand and pressed an object to Kate’s head. 

A
gun?  Oh, Jesus! 

“Destroy
the phone,” he shouted, his voice alarmingly cool.  “You’ll be doing me a
huge favour.  But the password Alan gave me doesn’t work.  Jenna
knows the key to using it.  Until she tells me what it is, I’ll pop you
off one by one.  Tell me what I want, or nobody will leave this
park.  Alive.”

Shit,
shit.  Geordie didn’t just want my phone.  He wanted the
password.  I rubbed my forehead, frustrated, but hoping to push the answer
out of my brain. 

I
felt a magnetic bond with each player on my side and didn’t want to let them
down.  Dylan, Kerry, Kate... like little pieces of myself were scattered
throughout the park.  Alone and vulnerable. 

Geordie’s
intentions were about as subtle as a baboon’s bottom.  Without the
password we were all in danger.  At a standstill.

My
worry increased with every snatching breath. 
What on earth could it
be?  Why does he think I know it?

Elliot
cried louder, and my heart tightened.  Poor kid.  He just wanted his
mum and dad.

I
closed my eyes, sinking my brain into deep thought.  Alan had sounded so
convincing in the voicemail.  I felt sure he’d told them the correct
password.  He’d had a gun to his head.  Yes.  But from the sound
of his voice I could tell he hadn’t been lying.  He thought they were
after a cut, not after killing him. 

Snake
for a mate forever.
 
Why didn’t that password work?  Was I missing the obvious? 
Think,
think, Jenna,
I ordered myself.  If I couldn’t work it out then it
would be too late for Kate... for...  I snapped up straight. 
That’s
it!

Late. 

Shorthand. 
Whenever
Alan texted me, he would swap letters for numbers, symbols for the odd group of
letters or words.  A slight variation on standard shorthand.  Late
became L8.  Forever became 4E.  Could it be that simple?  Could
my husband’s text messages have been the secret all along? 

If
Geordie was right, if I did indeed hold the key to the password, then maybe,
just maybe the answer was hanging from the trees above his head. 

I
grabbed my radio and switched it to channel three.  “I have what you
want.  I know where the answer is,” I said, my voice gushing out through
the megaphone.  I paused. 

I
was about to press the talk button again, when Dylan beat me to it. 
“Agree to the swap or we’ll call the cops.  We’ll hand over the phone, the
drugs, and the key to the password if you ditch all weapons and hand over Kate
and Elliot.  That’s why we’re all here, isn’t it?  Thirty seconds to
decide.  Make your choice.”

Silence. 
The men conversed in their groups.