unsmiling Russian, a man in black stepped out of the shadows, the same man he had seen coming down in the lift. The long, sour-looking face gazed at him with dark, bloodshot eyes, like someone who never slept.
Max instinctively grabbed a hefty wrench from a workbench. He’d fight his way clear if he had to, and these two didn’t look as though they could stop him.
But you could drop a steel girder on the third man who appeared, and it would probably have no effect.
Shaka Chang smiled. “So, you’re Max Gordon. You just won’t die, will you?”
Max stood his ground, fist clutching the wrench at shoulder height like a battleaxe.
Zhernastyn and the other man had taken a couple of steps back. Chang moved unhurriedly, touching this and that on the workbench, as if seeing things for the first time, and occasionally glancing at the fight-ready Max, who shifted his weight, turning slightly each time Shaka Chang moved, ready for an attack.
“You can put that down, Max. I don’t fight boys. I’ve got a couple of dozen men who can walk in here and take a beating before they truss you up like a turkey. You’ve done well, I admire you. No, no, I do, don’t look surprised.”
Max felt sure he hadn’t given away his reaction but Shaka Chang was a man who watched every flicker of emotion in a person’s face, and if Max’s ego had been stroked then the pupils in his eyes would have enlarged slightly at the subtle shift of pleasure from the killer’s comments. Max kept his eyes on Chang as he would a prowling lion. Chang was unconcerned.
“What might keep you and your father, your very stubborn father, alive is whether you have found the information that I need.”
Static electricity seemed to crackle through Max’s mind.
Shaka Chang still needed this evidence. And he would know if Max lied. He averted his eyes, looking at his father slumped against the wall-a perfectly natural reaction, but also a disguise. Max was really using his peripheral vision to look at Zhernastyn, half hidden behind Chang, who was moving in deceptively languid fashion.
A shadow of fear clouded Zhernastyn’s eyes.
Max knew.
Zhernastyn hadn’t told Chang about the computer. He was trying to save his own neck.
Max looked back at Chang, straight into his eyes, so he would know the truth. “I found it,” he said, knowing that if he had denied finding the disc, and with only hours to go before the dam gates were opened, their lives would be worthless, or Chang would torture his father in front of him until he confessed. Telling Chang might buy them only minutes of life, but those minutes gave hope, and if you had hope you could climb out of the darkest pit.
Shaka Chang stopped pacing and looked directly into Max’s face, a blast of power from those eyes. Max could see why people were so afraid of him. It wasn’t just the size of the man-his eyes were portals into a dark soul.
“Where is it?” The question had no more resonance than a breath being exhaled. But it was like a blade being dragged down Max’s spine. Almost supernatural.
Their eyes locked.
Did Shaka Chang see something inside Max? Could he see the shadowed place he traveled to when the
“I put it in the water. In the pump room. I dropped it through the grid.”
Chang didn’t have to work too hard to figure it out. “So that’s how you got inside Skeleton Rock. That’s admirable.” He paused. “Why into water? Why would you risk corrupting the disc? Ah! Of course. It had been hidden in water, or something similar. The fuel tank of the Land Rover? My men checked.”
“No, the water bag.”
“The water bag. How clever.” He looked at Max’s dad, who managed a smile. A small victory.
But Shaka Chang did not allow victories of any size. In one brutal movement he bent down and backhanded Max’s father, slamming him into the wall. In the instant it happened, Max, consumed by a frightening anger, hurled himself at Chang. He saw a blur of jade and gold as Chang sidestepped and swung an open hand, catching Max across the back of his head.
Max felt as though he’d been hit by a baseball. Down he went, right next to his dad, who had blood seeping from a split lip.
“Mr. Slye, get one of the men to retrieve the disc.” Slye melted back into the shadows, relieved to escape the turmoil and ugly violence. Better to be out of sight in moments of extreme conflict.
Max helped his dad prop his back against the wall. Father and son looked at each other; a brief, almost sad smile crossed Tom Gordon’s face. “I don’t believe in giving up, you know that, but there’s a time for everything. Even when it doesn’t work out the way you’d hoped. I’m sorry, son. I love you.”
“Me too, Dad.”
Max put an arm around his father and kissed him. He hadn’t done that since he was about eight. But it felt right. As he hugged him, Max pushed the ignition key into his palm.
It wasn’t over yet.
23
The wind, roaring its urgency, caught the mouth of the hangar, surged inside, then, beaten by the voluminous space, subsided into a whisper.
Out of the brewing storm two 4?4 pickups pulled in. The men, covered in dust, lowered a body to the floor. It was the unconscious!Koga. A line of dried blood was traced across the back of his head-the injury from the blow Max had witnessed on the television screen when they hunted the Bushman boy down. Blood leaked from his right ear.
Shaka Chang nodded to one of the men nearby, who whistled the hunters to bring the boy’s body closer.
Tom Gordon put a restraining hand on his son’s arm. Uncontrollable anger was a weapon that could work against you.
!Koga’s body lay on the polished concrete floor, like a corpse on a mortuary slab. The hunters backed away respectfully as Shaka Chang nudged the boy’s body with his foot. “Doctor!” he snapped.
Zhernastyn, who, like Mr. Slye, had tried to keep out of Shaka Chang’s line of vision, gasped and made an unconscious gesture of easing his collar’s tightness.
“Is he dead?” Chang asked.
Dr. Zhernastyn knelt down and examined!Koga.
“He’s alive, Mr. Chang, but I would say his skull has been fractured. I don’t think he’ll live without hospitalization.”
Max could hardly bear it. His friend’s crumpled figure lay only a couple of meters away, but he couldn’t touch or help him.
“You can’t let him die!” he shouted.
Shaka Chang barely glanced at him. Slye had returned, the sealed computer disc in his hand. “It’s here, sir,” he said.
“Good!” Chang beamed. “Let’s check it. If it’s everything we expected, we can destroy it.” He paused, then strode towards the lift and glanced back at Max, his father and!Koga. “And them.”
Shaka Chang and Slye moved out of sight. Zhernastyn wiped the sweat from his face. He was walking a fine line with Chang.
“Can’t you do something?” Max begged him.
“No. I don’t have the facilities.”
“You must be able to do something.”
“I can’t!” Zhernastyn hissed. “Another few hours and he’ll be dead. Anyway, why should I? He means nothing to me.”
“He’s my friend. He’s just a boy. You’ve gotta help him! You’re a doctor!”
Zhernastyn sneered as he glanced at Max’s dad. “I use my skills for other purposes.”
He turned away with a nod towards the armed guard, but Max shouted after him. “I can still tell Shaka Chang that I sent that information. He won’t like the fact that you lied to him. There must be a hospital somewhere!”
