Cloak of Silence (Jake Harding Adventures Book 1)

‘Cool,’ said Sam, holding the torch while Jake pulled the robe over his head.

He relaxed for a moment and grinned at the group who were staring at him in surprise. There were smiles in the torchlight, except from Doug who looked sour faced. He had wanted to bring his mate Tyler along but the others had said no.

‘Okay, torches off now,’ Jake said and led the way along the path to the bench and down the steps to the gate. He looked long and hard across the monastery garden before unlocking the gate; nothing was stirring in the darkness. ‘Close it behind us, but don’t lock it,’ he whispered and the message was passed back up the line.

They followed him down the rough path in single file. Someone stumbled and swore quietly, making one of the girls giggle.  Jake was acutely conscious that they were in full view of the monastery but the night was dark with only a tiny sliver of new moon and millions of stars in the clear sky. Lights were on in the building and, although there seemed to be nobody outside except themselves, he was glad when they reached the path at the foot of the hill and the protection of the trees.

It was even darker there but the starlight on the water beyond made the bay glow a dull silver and the stone building with the cross on the roof was faintly silhouetted. He opened the rickety storeroom door and felt around for the robes that had been dumped there earlier. There was more giggling and stifled laughter as he handed them out and they tried to find ones that fitted.

A few minutes later seven robed figures walked into the clearing behind the boathouse. They were excited and apprehensive, but knowing what a strange sight they made, found it hard to take it seriously. Jake felt confident enough to turn on the torch, his hand partly over the lens and they gathered in a circle like a team at a sports match.

‘They’ll come down the path we just walked down,’ he told them. ‘I need someone to keep watch while I tell the others the plan.’

Cath volunteered and they went over to the bushes at the boathouse door.

‘I can see the path as far as that little building,’ she whispered.

‘Great,’ Jake replied and their hands touched momentarily before he rejoined the others.

Someone had cracked a joke and he waited a few moments while the suppressed laughter died down.

He’d been studying Henry V at school and this felt a bit like the King addressing his men before the battle. It was awesome that this group had been prepared to follow him. Maybe they didn’t understand the danger, which of course he hadn’t really explained, or perhaps they actually believed it was part of the course. He’d have to be quick; if Warren was up to time he’d be there in only a few minutes.

‘Listen,’ he said. ‘Two monks will arrive any minute with eight other people, all dressed in robes. With any luck the monks will leave the others here and head back to the monastery.’ He was speaking quickly and hoped they were paying attention. ‘Then this other guy will arrive, a man called Warren. He’s a crook pretending to be a monk and he’s going to drive the speedboat I told you about to a trawler offshore. I know the trawler is going to Syntagma and then on to Italy. I think my sister’s at this Syntagma place and I want to get onto the trawler.’

‘So what must we do exactly?’ Jamal asked.

They listed in silence as Jake explained his plan. As he described the details he thought how impossible it sounded and how many things had to work out just right. ‘Are you still up for it?’ he asked finally.

After a pause, whispers of, ‘Yes, yes, yes…’ went around the circle.

‘Great, thanks guys,’ Jake said, but he hadn’t heard Doug say ‘yes’.

He took him by the sleeve and led him a little way from the others. ‘I need your help with this,’ he told him.

‘Why me?’ Doug sounded suspicious.

‘You’re the biggest and we need someone the pilgrims will listen to,’ Jake explained.

Doug didn’t reply immediately and as the silence lengthened, they could hear the others talking quietly.

‘His sister really has disappeared, hasn’t she?’ Ruby was saying.

‘Ruby! Do’h!’ Liv said sarcastically.

‘Doug said she’s the treasure for the Friday Project,’ Ruby retorted. ‘His brother was on the course last year, and they had to find a windsurfer that was supposed to be missing; there were clues left and stuff.’

‘Wake up, Rubes,’ Liv said patiently. ‘Jamal said days ago the disappearance was on the news in England with a big reward offered.’

‘Well, nobody told me,’ Ruby said grumpily.

Cath called softly from her lookout position, ‘Someone’s coming!’

Two people with torches had come into view and Cath had eased further back into the clearing. The beams of light swung around and they could all hear the pair of monks talking as they herded a group of pilgrims onto the jetty, their luggage piled on the path.

‘You wait. You quiet. Warren come.’ With that, the monks set off back towards the monastery, the torchlight bobbing as they walked.

The passengers were left in darkness on the jetty as the torchbearers disappeared up the path.

‘Well?’ Jake asked quietly.

‘Okay, I’ll do it,’ Doug said. ‘I’m doing it for my Group, though, not for you.’

‘Okay, that’s fine, Doug,’ Jake replied. ‘C’mon then, game on,’ he said and gave Doug the other torch.

Jake led the way up the narrow track through the trees that he’d discovered two days earlier. He used the torch sparingly, his hand over most of the lens with only enough light to stop them straying off the path. He turned it off as lighted monastery windows appeared through the foliage. They emerged from the trees in time to see the two monks entering the basement door. As the door closed, Jake grabbed Doug by the sleeve and said, ‘Let’s go.’

They set off at a brisk walk across the lawn, the faint moon and stars providing enough light to see where they were going. Two people looking like monks, even at this time of night, might not raise the alarm as long as they didn’t run, but they had to get back to the jetty before Warren arrived.

Jake was hugely relieved when they reached the path and walked down through the trees without the basement door opening again.

‘Right,’ he said. ‘Torches on.’

‘Right.’ Doug sounded as anxious as Jake felt.

They were almost through the trees now and the bay opened up in front of them. The torchlight lit the path but the jetty and the eight robed people waiting on it were almost invisible.

‘We’ll tell them to wait in the storeroom, right here,’ Jake said. He looked over his shoulder again but there was nobody coming down the path behind them. Warren was already late and time was critical.

‘Will it work?’

‘We’ll soon find out,’ Jake replied grimly.

They were nearly at the jetty and Jake could sense rather than see eight expectant faces looking at them. He walked confidently up to them and shone his torch around as he had seen the monks doing earlier. Doug said nothing and Jake had a sinking feeling that he was going to let him down.

‘You come,’ Jake said, trying to make his voice deeper. ‘Wait there in storeroom.’

The passengers stared at the two of them without moving.

Doug shone his torch at them and baffled faces looked back, blinking in the bright light.

‘Taal,’ Doug said unexpectedly, his voice deeper too and took a few steps along the path. ‘Taal henna.’

There were some mutterings and two or three of them picked up their bags and made a move to follow.

‘Leave your luggage,’ Jake said, gesturing.

Doug spoke again in the foreign language and the bags were put down and they started to follow him. One of the men asked a question and Doug replied as he strode up the path to the storeroom. Jake followed behind, scarcely able to believe what was happening.

The man at the back of the group turned to Jake. ‘Boat not come?’

‘Yes, coming,’ Jake replied. ‘You wait in here.’

‘No problem,’ he replied.

As the last of the passengers went into the storeroom, Jake put his finger to his lips, shining the torch on his face so that they could see what he meant.

‘Okay, okay,’ one of them responded. ‘We quiet.’

Doug said something as he closed the door and there was a ripple of laughter.

‘Doug, that was brilliant,’ Jake exclaimed as they walked quickly back to join the others.

‘Easy,’ Doug said, sounding pleased. ‘They looked Arab so I spoke to them in Arabic. I grew up in the Gulf,’ he added.

‘Let’s hope our luck holds,’ Jake said and called for the others to come out of the clearing.

They gathered on the jetty and Jake ran over the plan again. Anyone who wanted to stay behind should go back to the clearing. They all stayed.

Jake tried to relax and looked over the side of the jetty. The stars were all around them, not only above but reflected perfectly in the mirror-like surface of the bay, throwing the dark bulk of the boathouse and the tall trees that encircled them into sharp relief. All was quiet in the stone storeroom, invisible in the moon-shadow thrown by the trees.

What on earth would his parents say when all this came out?

He kept an eye out for approaching torchlight. Would Warren notice that there were only seven passengers? He saw a momentary red glow and it took him a moment to realise that it was a cigarette. It was Warren, without a torch, invisible in his black robe with the hood pulled up.

‘Are you ready, people?’ he asked as he walked past the jetty and unlocked the boathouse.

Moments later the boat engine started with a subdued roar.

The group on the jetty became tense and apprehensive as the sleek craft appeared, its engine at idle speed. The boathouse lights went out but a few seconds later the spotlights on the two wrought-iron crosses came on. Sam and Liv were standing next to the cross on the jetty and jumped back in surprise.

‘Those other people have been on the boat before so we don’t want to faff around,’ Jake told them quietly. ‘The guys load the luggage onto the front deck, while the girls go and sit down. And keep your hoods up.’

Jake bit his lip as the RIB was brought stern first alongside the jetty. Was this going to work? There would be seven of them getting onto the trawler so perhaps he could hide away and get off when they stopped at Syntagma even if the others were trapped on the trawler somehow. It was impossible to predict what would happen. But at least he had his mobile in his pocket and he could tell Jenny where they were. They wouldn’t be far offshore and he reckoned there should be a signal.

The RIB bumped gently alongside and Warren passed up a rope. Sam took it and held the boat against the jetty.

‘Right, people,’ Warren called out. ‘Load the luggage up front and get on board. Chop-chop.’

Jamal and Doug made quick work of packing the suitcases and sports bags on the fore deck while the others found themselves seats behind the driving position.

‘Very good, let’s go.’ Warren sounded surprised at how quickly they had loaded the luggage and settled in their seats. Sam passed the rope across, stepped aboard and sat on the seat in front of Jake.

He turned and whispered, ‘All okay?’

‘Yeah,’ he replied; it was great to be part of a team rather than all on his own.

‘You’ve all been on the boat before,’ Warren told them. ‘So settle down, keep quiet and let’s take you to Italy.’

The RIB moved slowly away from the jetty and towards the mouth of the bay.

Warren looked over his shoulder as they approached the passage to the open sea. Jake looked behind the boat and realised that the two illuminated crosses were exactly in line, one slightly above the other giving the effect of a Cross of Lorraine.

Leading lights, of course!

The boat lifted and fell slightly as they cleared the entrance. Warren turned again and aimed the remote unit at the boathouse. The lights on the crosses went out and the bow of the powerful boat rose as it accelerated out into the open sea.