Quintin Jardine - Screen Savers

There was a little light spilling into the module from the doorway, but suddenly it went out. I pulled on my headset, squeezed my eyes shut, then opened them again to see Ardley, greeny grey and ghostly, closing the door and taking out his gun. Looking around in that odd light, I had another mad moment, imagining that Miles and I were in the X-Files and wondering which one of us was Scully: it had to be Miles; I’m taller and his hair is about the same length as hers.

‘Let’s do it,’ the lieutenant whispered. ‘The stairway should be just along here.’ He took a pace forward, then stopped, and turned to Miles and Roper. ‘Guys: when we find Donn, I’ll take him out. You two be ready for anyone else, just in case we’re wrong and he’s not alone. If you have to shoot anyone don’t worry which part of him you hit, just fucking hit him, and keep on doing it until he’s no longer a threat.’

‘I’ll do him.’ Miles said it quietly, hoarsely, as if he’d borrowed Clint Eastwood’s voice for the occasion.

‘Let’s not argue about this-’ Ardley began.

‘You ever killed anyone, son?’ Roper and I looked on, as the two of them stared at each other. Eventually, the young Marine shook his head. ‘Well I have, in my special forces days; more people than you’ve got years in the service, I guess. My wife’s at risk here; if there’s the slightest chance you might turn out to be gun-shy, I’m not taking it.’

‘We’ll see.’

‘No. I’m telling you.’

When the going gets tough, as they say. Ardley looked at him and nodded. ‘Let’s go then,’ he whispered.

We crept along, the four of us, through the platform’s great, pipe-filled hall, until the shape of a stairway came into our night vision. It was wide, and rose for about thirty feet and as far as we could tell; no light spilled down from above. Tensing more and more with each step, we climbed the metal treads silently, Miles and Ardley in the lead, scarcely daring to breathe as we reached the top.

As we stepped into the corridor, we flattened ourselves against its walls. It was dark, but through our glasses we could make out the doors of the shower rooms and heads; there were two of each, since the Dutch had many women engineers. Beyond, the corridor stretched out: three cabin doors to the left, and on the right, those of the dayroom and the galley. . from which came a narrow, searing crack of light, the sound of music, and the unmistakable smell of frying food.

I heard Miles take a deep breath and looked across at him. He was holding his pistol upright in front of him, and nodding towards the door. He beckoned Ardley close with a nod of his head. ‘You kick it open,’ he said, in the faintest whisper, ‘and I’ll go in shooting. Back me up fast as you can.’

Ardley nodded; he took off his night glasses and signalled to Miles to do the same. ‘The light could blind you, otherwise,’ I heard him murmur.

My heart had been pounding since we had reached the top of the stairway; it dropped into third gear and picked up even more revs as I watched them creep along the corridor and take up positions, Miles tensed and faced the door, Ardley slightly to one side. ‘Okay,’ he mouthed, levelling the gun. The young marine grasped his in both hands, lifted his right foot and slammed it against the heavy door, as fast and as hard as he could.

I couldn’t stop myself; I leapt after them as it swung open. I was there to identify Stephen Donn, after all. .

Alone, unfettered and unharmed, Dawn screamed as she turned to see, framed in the doorway, a black figure from the depths of Hell.

Miles screamed right back at her as, at the final moment, he swung his pistol up and shot three holes in the galley cupboard.

I don’t know how long I spent leaning against the wall of that corridor, hyperventilating, staring at the ghostly green roof through the night glasses which I had neglected to remove, and wondering if I’d pissed myself inside that wetsuit. I’ve no idea how long Miles spent framed in the doorway, head bowed, shoulders shaking, gun hanging limply from his fingers. I’ve no idea how long it took Dawn to recover her senses, and stir from her faint.

I only know that if Stephen Donn had come bursting out of the wardroom or one of the cabins with a blazing Uzi, we could all have been goners.

But he didn’t. Ardley resumed command, and as Miles and I got a grip on ourselves, he and Roper checked the accommodation module, room by room, in case he had heard us, heard the muffled gunshots, guessed the game plan and was hiding for his life. There was no doubt, though; the five of us were alone on the rig.

I went back to the kitchen; Dawn was sitting on the floor, crying quietly. I noticed for the first time that she was still wearing the clothes which Miles had reported missing from her wardrobe, a day and a half earlier; except that they were green. As, finally, I tore off the night glasses, Miles lifted her gently to her feet. ‘It’s all right, honey, it’s all right,’ he soothed her, as her sobs grew louder. ‘I’m sorry we gave you such a scare. We were expecting to find Stephen Donn.’

‘Who?’ she mumbled, bewildered. ‘Who’s he? Stu Queen, the sparks, kidnapped me from the mansion; he was the only one here.’

‘Stu Queen was a phoney,’ I told her, as I blinked my eyes to help them readjust to the world of colour. ‘Stephen Donn is the guy who’s been tracking me all along, making it look as if he was pursuing a vendetta against me, through my family and friends. Stephen Donn snatched you.’

I was beginning to recover my reason. ‘Mr Grayson,’ said Ardley from the doorway. ‘It’s time to call the cavalry.’ He took the radio from his belt, switched it on and held down the ‘transmit’ button.

‘This is the recovery team,’ he called into the mike. ‘Beta Platform is secure, Mrs Grayson is safe, we have no casualties. There’s no one else here.’

He let the button go I heard a disembodied voice come crackling through a curtain of static. ‘Understood, sir; we’re on our way. Please check the helideck is clear and report back.’

‘I’ll do that,’ I said, anxious, suddenly, to breathe fresh air again. A stairway at the far end of the corridor led to the deck of the platform. I ran up the steps; the door at the top opened easily and silently, and I burst out into a calm, cold, suddenly bright morning, on a steel island, surrounded by grey waters. The deck was clear, okay; it wasn’t huge, but big enough to accommodate at least one large helicopter. Opposite the accommodation hatch, by which I stood, there was a wide, open-fronted shelter; the hangar, I guessed. It was empty too. I walked across and looked inside; there were tyre-marks on the oil-streaked floor, and what looked like fuel canisters stacked again the wall. I pick one or two up and shook them; they were empty.

I walked back out of the big garage and across to the doorway. ‘The helideck’s clear,’ I called down to Ardley. ‘Donn was here, but he’s split.’

‘Thanks,’ the marine replied. ‘He must have panicked.’ I heard him as he radioed the back-up unit, giving them the all-clear to fly in.

I leaned against the wall of the superstructure for a few seconds, trying to imagine Stephen Donn panicking. I couldn’t.

Ardley and Roper came up on deck together to await their squad. I went back below, to find the dayroom light on. Miles and Dawn were sitting at its table, on which were three mugs of coffee, and one plate of well-cooked bacon and a hard fried egg. The food and its smell drew me like a magnet. ‘Who’s this for?’ I asked.

‘We don’t fancy it, mate,’ Miles grunted. ‘It’s all yours if you want it.’

‘TFR.’ I sat down. ‘So the boy Donn was expecting to be here for breakfast,’ I murmured as I picked up the cutlery beside my plate. ‘D’you want to tell us what happened, Dawn?’