Cloak of Silence (Jake Harding Adventures Book 1)

The boat swept out to sea with the hooded figure of the monk hunched over the controls, his face half-lit by the glow of the compass binnacle. His teenage passengers sat apprehensively behind him, bracing themselves against the uncertain movement. The land, already invisible, dropped away behind them as the wind snatched at their hoods and tugged insistently at the flowing sleeves of their robes.

Jake, Ruby and Doug shared the bench seat. The others had taken the four seats behind the coxswain’s console but it was impossible to see who was who in the darkness and the anonymity of the billowing robes. Brother Warren straightened up, apparently satisfied that the boat was on the correct heading.

Jake jumped involuntarily as Ruby put a hand on his knee.

‘I think I might be seasick.’ She spoke into his ear, normal conversation impossible over the rush of the wind and the roar of the boat engine.

He groaned inwardly. ‘Look at the horizon,’ he told her, his hands cupped over her ear. ‘That always works.’

A few moments later she told him, ‘It’s too dark to see it.’

He was trying to think what to say when Warren turned, one hand resting lightly on the wheel and a torch in his other hand.

The powerful beam of light caught Jake full in the face. He raised a hand to shield his eyes before the torch moved on. It stopped and swung back, but he had turned his head so that the hood hid his face from Warren.

His stomach knotted in anticipation of trouble. Sure enough, Warren pulled the throttles back and the boat slowed. He shouted, ‘Come here, you,’ and shone the torch at Jake again.

He hesitated.

‘Yes, you,’ Warren shouted over the roar of the wind and the engine.

‘Go, Jake. I’ll back you up,’ Doug told him.

He got to his feet and walked forward hesitantly. The RIB was still moving quite fast and he used the grab handles on the seats to steady himself. He couldn’t see their faces but everyone must be watching and wondering what was going to happen.

The low-level lighting on the console created a pool of light on the foredeck and another where the coxswain stood. The instrument lighting was enough for him to see the distrust in Warren’s wide-spaced brown eyes. He reached out and deftly flicked back the hood of Jake’s robe. His expression dared Jake to retaliate, but he simply stared back. Warren’s hood was up and Jake could only see his tanned face, the console lights accentuating his high cheekbones and aggressive expression.

‘I’ve seen you before.’

Jake shook his head. How could Warren possibly have seen him?

‘Oh yes, I saw you at the monastery talking to Taki.’

Warren smiled grimly, his face distorted by the lighting. ‘You were wearing a yellow shirt,’ he went on and, without changing his expression, wrenched the wheel of the RIB savagely, left then right.

The boat swerved immediately and one of the girls screamed as Jake lost his balance, the side of the boat catching him behind his knees. He fell over backwards, his hands scrabbling for the rope he knew was fixed along the inflatable hull. He got a hand to it and held on grimly, his head and shoulders almost in the water and his legs clinging to the hull.

Warren glared at him; he was meant to have gone completely overboard.

Jake managed to get his other hand to the rope and started hauling himself up. But Warren let the wheel go and stepped over to Jake who was now sprawled on his back over the inflatable hull, his muscles straining to pull himself back into the RIB.

Warren grinned at him, his teeth catching the light and put a foot against Jake’s hip and pushed him over the side. The girl screamed again.

Jake’s feet dragged in the water but he hung on to the rope desperately. The boat was still moving fast and the water tugged powerfully at his robe, the lower half of which was instantly waterlogged. If he let go he would be on his own at sea while the boat and the others sped on.

His head was pressed against the inflatable hull but he could see into the boat. Warren had straightened it up and was looking coolly down at the compass, getting the RIB back on course. 42 degrees Jake had noticed in the few seconds that he had stood at the console next to Warren, but that information would not help him now.

He could see Doug advancing from the back but Warren hadn’t noticed. He was scowling at Jake who was obviously causing a drag that was pulling the boat off course. He raised a foot and slammed it down hard onto Jake’s right hand. Warren was wearing trainers and the inflatable hull had some give in it, but the pain was intense. He kept hold of the rope and Warren slammed his foot down again before swearing harshly as Doug grabbed him around his neck.

The two robed figures fell into the open space behind the cockpit, Warren continuing to swear. There was a confused melee of writhing and punching. Jamal tried to join in but the seats and the control console were in the way. The wheel spun slowly and the boat started to veer off course.

‘Pull the throttle back,’ Jake yelled, but nobody could hear him.

There was the distinctive sound of a heavy punch and one of the robed figures went limp. The other quickly got to his feet, cropped blond hair appearing as he pulled the hood of his robe back so that he wouldn’t be crept up on again. He looked around angrily as he took hold of the wheel and reached for something under the console. It was a heart-stopping moment; Jake expected him to produce a gun, but instead he pulled out an evil looking hunting knife.

Jamal stepped over Doug’s inert form and made a grab for Warren’s wrist. The monk snarled and flicked with the knife and Jamal looked down in disbelief as blood, black in the subdued lighting, spurted from a gash on the palm of his hand. He staggered back as one of the girls screamed. Warren gave them a defiant look but Cath got up from her seat and grabbed the hood of his robe with both hands. She pulled as hard as she could while moving around in front of the console. Warren tried to wrench it out of her grasp but she held on grimly. He followed her around onto the foredeck lashing out with his fist but she darted back around the console, still hanging onto the hood.

Ruby joined her and got her hand to the hood, all thought of seasickness forgotten, trying to stop him by pulling him back against the console.

‘Help me, someone,’ she shrieked.

Liv responded to Ruby’s call and reached over the console and dug her fingernails into Warren’s neck. He struck out with his free hand and Liv fell back, sobbing, blood streaming from her mouth. Ruby and Cath hung on, trying to prevent Warren from moving away from the front of the console.

Sam made his way to the foredeck. The luggage was stacked at the bow, giving him enough room to do something that he’d practiced endlessly but had never done for real. He paused, his fists bunched in front of his chest in a tae kwando stance. Warren was focussing on freeing himself from the girls’ grip on his hood. He dropped the knife onto the deck and used both hands to wrench the hood out of their grasp. He turned and saw the danger too late as Sam executed a front kick, the sole of his foot slamming into Warren’s jaw. His blond head snapped back and the console shook as he was thrown back against it. He hung there for a moment before sliding down onto the foredeck.

‘Shot, Sam!’ Ruby exclaimed and he grinned at her before looking down to make sure that the monk really was unconscious.

‘Get the ropes,’ Cath called as she reached for the throttle levers and pulled them back. The roar of the engine died away and the boat immediately lost way in the water. Jamal was reaching over the side splashing seawater onto his wound. As the boat slowed sharply he lost his balance.

Ruby shouted out, ‘Jamal, no!’ but he pitched silently over the side into the sea.

Cath took the wheel and turned it tentatively. The RIB came around slowly but it soon came to a stop. There was a moment’s silence, and then they were all talking at once.

Ruby slapped the flat of her hand on the side of the console. The bang brought immediate silence. ‘Sam, help Jake; he’s got the ropes to tie up that guy.’ She had decided to take charge. ‘Liv, you okay now?’

Liv nodded in reply, touching her face tentatively.

‘Great, find that torch and look for Jamal in the water.’

Sam reached over, grabbed Jake’s robe and hauled him upwards. Jake grimaced and heaved at the rope, and with their combined effort he slithered back over the inflatable hull. His hands were raw and his arms felt like jelly. Sam looked at him enquiringly, a hand on his shoulder.

‘I’m okay, go and sort out Warren,’ Jake said, pulling the lengths of rope from his tracksuit pocket. He dragged the waterlogged robe over his head, wincing as the raw palms of his hands touched the coarse material.

On the foredeck Cath helped Sam truss up Warren. He was coming round but they had already tied his wrists behind his back and bound his ankles together and when he started to fight back it was too late.

Doug had been lying on his back near the console while the desperate fight for control of the boat raged around him. As Jake bent over him he shook his head and started to move.

‘You okay?’ Jake asked.

‘Sort of,’ Doug replied, pulling himself up onto one elbow. He’d have a black eye later.

Now they had Jamal to find.

Cath pushed the throttle forward experimentally and the boat moved ahead. She pushed it further and spun the wheel to turn the RIB back on its course. Liv played the torch over the surface of the sea, scanning the water intently.

Cath urged them all to be quiet and listen, before calling out, ‘Jamal!’

They lined the deck and stared forward anxiously into the inky darkness. Ruby found Warren’s torch and shone it across the surface of the sea in a slow arc.

‘He can’t be this far,’ Jake said. ‘Circle around again, Cath.’

She spun the wheel slowly and the RIB turned again. They needed to find him soon otherwise they would completely lose track of where they were. After more anxious minutes and several calls there was a faint answering cry and Liv spotted him some distance away in the water.

‘My hand is bleeding. The blood will bring the sharks,’ he called as Cath manoeuvred the boat towards him.

‘They’re no big sharks around here.’ Jake tried to sound reassuring.

Doug was on his feet again and helped Jake and Sam drag Jamal over the side into the boat. He was shivering with cold and shock and they made him lie down on the bench seat. Liv found a tissue for his cut hand, which was bleeding profusely.

Jake squatted on his haunches next to Warren, who glared at him, blood vessels standing out in his neck as he strained against the ropes.

‘Tell me, where is Syntagma?’ he asked but Warren swore at him viciously.

‘What?’ asked Sam.

As Warren started to swear again, Sam pushed a knotted rope into his mouth and pulled it tightly around the back of his head. Warren glared at him venomously but there was nothing he could do.

‘Gee, I won’t mess with you,’ Jake quipped.

‘He wasn’t going to tell you anything,’ Sam said flatly.

While Liv stayed with Jamal, the others gathered at the console for a council of war.

‘Now, go on or go back?’ Jake asked tersely.

‘Jamal needs medical help,’ Ruby pointed out.

Doug rubbed his chin. ‘I’d like to go on; see this through. Can Cath drop us off at the trawler and get back with Jamal and raise the alarm?’

‘Yeah,’ Sam said. ‘And hand that monk over to the cops.’

‘That would give us two chances of nailing them,’ Jake said.

‘They certainly need to be nailed,’ Cath remarked, unexpectedly vehement.

‘Let’s go then,’ Sam said and they all nodded in agreement.

Jake directed Cath to get the boat back on course. 42 degrees. She was calmly driving the boat as though they were out for a picnic.

‘My uncle’s got a boat like this, only smaller,’ she said by way of explanation.

Jake turned the lights off and they all gathered around the console. How far they had gone off course was hard to say.

‘I can see a boat,’ Liv said suddenly, pointing and they all turned to look at the ship low in the water and about twenty degrees off their heading.

‘That’s it,’ Jake said and Cath adjusted the wheel to bring them onto the right bearing.

Jake made his way to the back where Jamal lay quietly, a tissue pressed to his palm which had stopped the bleeding. Ruby sat next to him now. ‘You stay on board,’ he told Jamal. ‘We’ll get onto the trawler. Cath is driving this thing brilliantly and she’ll head back to Zengounas beach. Get my dad or one of the instructors and tell them what’s happened. They’ll get your hand sorted out. That guy shouldn’t give any trouble,’ he jerked a thumb towards the foredeck.

Jamal nodded and managed a smile. ‘Thanks, Jake, I’ll be fine.’

‘Ruby, you were feeling sick,’ he said. ‘Do you want to go back too?’

‘That’s really nice of you, Jake,’ she said. ‘But I’ll stick with you guys.’

Jake told everyone to take off their robes and they put two over Jamal at the back and the rest over Warren. Sam had found a cleat on the foredeck and had secured the ropes to it so that Warren couldn’t move.

‘If looks could kill, I’d be dead meat,’ he commented.

They had been seen and the floodlights on the trawler came on.

‘Bring her in slowly along the port side,’ Jake said quietly to Cath. ‘There, see that rope ladder?’

‘Yup, no problem,’ she responded. The RIB approached slowly and bumped alongside, coming to a stop with the console opposite the ladder.

‘Perfect,’ Jake said quietly.

A rope was thrown down to them that Doug attached to a ring in the deck.

Jake stood in front of the console and watched the faces of the two crewmembers as first Doug, followed by Sam, Ruby and Liv climbed the short ladder. Both crewmen were dark and deeply tanned and Jake assumed they were from the south of Italy. One was scrawny with a distinctive gold tooth and the other heavily built with shoulder length greasy hair. Gold Tooth helped each of them over the trawler rail and onto the deck while Greasy Hair stared at them in turn in a disinterested manner, although he looked curiously at the two girls. They must look a lot younger than their usual passengers.

Jake was relieved that they weren’t looking down into the boat or they might have wondered who was at the controls, still dressed in a robe and clearly too slight a figure to be Warren or one of the other monks. They might also have been puzzled by the shape on the bench seat or wondered why the pile of robes on the foredeck was moving slightly of its own accord.

They were staring at the new arrivals on the deck as Jake started to pass up the luggage to Doug. He left three items behind, passing up five suitcases, one for each of them. The crewmen were happy enough that the passengers were doing all the work. Jake relaxed a little when Greasy Hair said something and Gold Tooth laughed.

Finally, he released the rope and climbed the ladder himself. He waved to Cath before clambering over the ship’s rail and she gave a tiny wave of acknowledgement before pushing the throttle of the RIB gently forward. The boat moved slowly away, the engine burbling. Cath was taking it gently, turning the wheel slightly so that the craft moved off at an angle before turning more sharply. The bow came around until it pointed towards the distant monastery. She opened up the throttle and the front of the powerful boat lifted and sliced through the dark water.

Jake watched the boat until it disappeared from sight.

Cath should be fine and she’ll soon raise the alarm.

He stepped over the rail onto the deck of the trawler with a smile on his face.