'What on earth is this?' Gareth turned to inspect the massive
construction on which Jake and Greg had been working, and Jake patted
it proudly.
'It's a raft.' He circled the complicated platform of empty oil drums
with its decking of timber slats, indicating its finer features with
the half-empty beer bottle.
'Armoured cars don't swim, and we have to land them on a shelving
beach. It's unlikely we will be able to get within a hundred yards of
the shore. We'll float them off.' Vicky was looking at the fine
muscling of Jake's shoulders and arms, at the flat belly and the dark
pelt of hair that covered his chest, but Gareth was fascinated by the
crudely constructed raft.
'I was going to talk to you about landing the cars, and suggest
something like this,' Gareth said, and Jake lifted an eyebrow at him in
disbelief.
'All we must make sure of is that the vessel that lands us has a
derrick strong enough to swing the cars outboard.'
'What do they weigh?'
'Five tons each.'
'Fine, the HirondeUe can handle that.'
'The Hirondelle?'
'The vessel that's transporting us.'
'So you have been working.'
Jake laughed. 'I would never have believed it of you. When do we
sail?'
'Dawn, the day after tomorrow. We will load during the night not
wanting to advertise our cargo and we will sail at first light.'
'That doesn't give me much time to teach Miss Camberwell to drive one
of the cars.' Jake turned to her now, and once again felt the thrill
of looking into those speckled eyes of green and gold. 'I'm going to
need a deal of your time.'
'That's one thing I've got plenty of at the moment.' For Vicky the
interlude in Dares Salaam had served to rest her tired and strained
nerves. her previous assignment at Geneva had been irksome and
wearying. She had spent the last few days exploring the ancient port
and writing a two-thousand-word filler on its origins and history. She
had enjoyed Gareth Swales's attentions and the by-play of avoiding his
more serious advances. Now she was becoming aware of Jake
Barton's smouldering admiration. Nothing like being pursued by two
tough, dangerous and forceful males to relax a girl, she thought, and
smiled at Jake, enjoying his reaction, and watching Gareth Swales
bridle and move in to intervene.
'I can give Vicky a bit of instruction on the jolly old machines, don't
want to take you off important work.' Vicky did not turn her head, but
went on smiling at Jake.
'I think that's rather Mr. Barton's department,' she said.
'Jake,' said Jake.
'Vicky,' said Vicky.
This whole business was turning out very well indeed. A good story to
chase, a worthy cause to support, another daring escapade to add to the
