going to be the easiest for them to scramble up onto.
Of course, the boys were all pumped up for this; giddy with excitement and slightly stoked on the last crate of that sugary alcopop. A bottle for each of them before they went in; a celebration drink to toast the victory. Just enough of a buzz to take the edge off any last-minute nerves, just enough to make each of them feel like invincible Super Army Soldiers.
Maxwell shot a glance at Notori-us. He was grinning with excitement, ready for the fun and games to begin; probably sporting a raging hard-on in his tracksuit bottoms. Maxwell looked at Nathan. You going to be a good lad and play along for me?
Nathan smiled back at him, hoping his cavalier grin gave away none of the twisting, churning emotions going on inside him.
Oh, crap. Oh, crap. I’ve got to do something.
Nathan wished he’d chugged another bottle of Froot-ka. He realised he was trembling from head to foot. He was hoping, desperately hoping, that they weren’t going to fall for this. That Maxwell’s plan to sweet-talk his way on was going to fall on deaf ears. And if he got Nathan to say hello there’d be a way to let them know, a tone of voice, a choice of words that would subtly warn them this was a trap waiting to be sprung.
He glanced at Notori-us, grinning like an over-sugared toddler. He knew exactly why the boy was on the foredeck standing right next to him.
Fuck.
A voice he recognised instantly echoed down from the main deck. ‘Hello?’ It was Mrs Sutherland. ‘I’m in charge here. What do you want?’
‘To talk. That’s all. We heard about this place. That it’s a safe place!’
A pause.
‘No! You should leave now! We have guns aimed on you!’
‘What?! I’m not armed!’ shouted Maxwell. ‘I . . . I was just hoping we could talk!’
Jenny Sutherland said nothing.
‘Look, I’ve got someone you might know down here with me!’
Nathan felt his bowels unknot and loosen.
Oh, shit . . . Nate . . . you have to say something.
A torch snapped on from above, lanced down eighty feet and dappled its way across their upturned faces.
‘Nathan?’ A syrup-thick voice that he recognised instantly echoed down to him. ‘Oh, God! Is it you, Nathan?!’
‘Hey, Mum!’ he called out limply. He couldn’t see where she was.
Maxwell touched his arm lightly. ‘There’s a good lad,’ he muttered quietly. ‘Talk to Mum. Let’s go up and see her, eh? I promise she won’t be hurt, lad.’
‘Oh, my!’ Martha cried. ‘Oh, Nathan, love! You all right?’
‘Nathan led us here!’ called out Maxwell. ‘Said you were decent people. He wanted to come home. So I brought him back!’
The torch beam flickered across their faces, across the deck onto the cockpit. Probing the boat for any secrets.
‘So, how many of you down there?’
Shit, no . . . they’re going to fall for it.
Maxwell smiled. ‘Just us three . . . and there’s Jeff in the cockpit.’
Jenny said nothing in response, and they bobbed in silence for a few moments.
Don’t do it. Don’t do it.
‘You can send Nathan up alone,’ called down Jenny. ‘Just him.’
Fuck. No. Don’t lower anything!
Maxwell shrugged. ‘Sure, okay.’ He made a show of smiling at Nathan like they were inseparable buddies; favourite uncle and favourite nephew. ‘That okay with you, fella?’
Nathan stared out into the dark, unwilling to say anything, even nod silently. Then he heard the cranking of a windlass above.
Shit-shit-shit. You gotta do something, say something . . . now.
‘MUM!’ he blurted. ‘THEY’RE DOWN HERE! THEY’RE EVERYWHERE! THEY’RE GOING TO ATTACK YOU!!!’
Maxwell’s face split into a snarl. ‘Ah, for fuck’s sake, you little fucking shit!!!’
Nathan saw Notori-us reach quickly under his jacket and he heard his mum’s distant voice screaming down at them not to touch her baby.
God, she could be embarrassing like that.
He turned to face the boy next to him, hands held out in front of him to protect himself, but Notori-us was already on him. Nathan felt several rapid punches in his stomach - like a boxer furiously working over a punchbag, except he knew each blow was more than that.
He could still hear his mum’s voice, stretched thin and reedy, screaming down as his knees started to buckle beneath him.
Adam realised the conceit was over and all the talking was done.
He shouldered the gun, aiming through the SA80’s night-vision scope down onto the tugboat’s deck. If he could get Maxwell, maybe that would be enough to nip this whole thing