Nope, that wasn't going to work. Sure, Smith would probably get away, but the idea was to get Alice to agree to the deal Harriet had made, not drive Smith off so he could return with an even greater force. She did wonder whether they might just arrest him, but she'd already dismissed that idea. He'd be sure to bring his goons along, and even without guns they would be a huge danger to herself and to Alice.
She heard Smith cursing under his breath. He was still looking at the bar on the display, and from what she could see, it was still empty.
"You," said Smith, gesturing at the female crew member. "This is taking too long. Go and see what that idiot's doing."
The woman nodded, and got up.
"If he's standing around having a break, tell him he's just lost his bonus."
— ♦ —
"Don't just stand there," whispered Teresa. "Come and help!"
Alice was still in shock. They'd seen Smith's vessel approaching, had covered their ears as it landed, billowing smoke, and then they'd watch it set down. Moments later, a passenger ramp unfolded from the hull, high above, and then a member of the crew had made his way down to the landing pad. As he approached the refuelling rig, Teresa stood up and calmly shot him.
He'd fallen without a sound, and now lay in a huddle on the concrete. Teresa ran to him, and was now dragging him towards the edge of the pad.
Alice shook herself. "I thought that gun was for show!" she hissed.
"It is. I just showed him who's in charge." Teresa frowned at her. "Come, give me a hand before he comes round."
"Comes … round?"
"Of course!" Teresa started. "Oh hell. You didn't think I killed him, did you?"
"N-no, of course not." Alice vaulted onto the pad and took the man's free arm. Together they dragged him to the edge, where Teresa unceremoniously rolled him off. He landed in the undergrowth with a thud, and she reached into her pocket for the bundle of plastic strips. "You do his arms, I'll get his ankles. Make sure they're behind his back."
Alice took one of the strips, and together they bound the man hand and foot. Teresa checked the strips were tight, then glanced towards the ship. "Let's hope he's dumb enough to send them out one by one. Now come on, with me."
They clambered onto the pad, and Teresa led the way to the ramp. They got there just in time, crouching in the darkness just as the airlock door opened overhead.
"Matt?" said a female voice.
Hesitant footsteps came down the ramp, and when the shadowy figure reached the bottom, Teresa raised her gun. There was a muted fizz, and the woman crumpled, unconscious. Then Teresa handed Alice a couple of plastic strips. "Put her with the other one. I'll wait here and cover you."
Before Alice could move she heard a whining noise, and when she looked up she saw an opening in the hull, gradually getting wider. Something was emerging from the opening, and she stared at it, wondering if it was a weapon.
"Jacket!" hissed Teresa. "Quick, before they see us!"
Alice shrugged the thick coat off and handed it over, and Teresa reached up and draped it over the device. Alice guessed it was a camera, and with the jacket covering the lens it was useless. "Now go," hissed Teresa. "Get a move on!"
— ♦ —
Smith operated the external camera, but no matter which way he pointed it, the display was pitch black. "This is getting ridiculous," he muttered. "What the hell is going on out there?"
"Maybe someone's trying to snatch the ship." The speaker was the last remaining crew member, who was sitting to Smith's left.
"Don't be ridiculous. They know who they're dealing with, and they know what I'd do to them." Smith pressed a button. "Hello?"
"Engine room."
"Tom, there might be trouble. Bring a couple of weapons. Big wrenches or fire axes or something."
"Yes sir. On my way."
As he waited, Smith moved the camera around, muttering in frustration.
Harriet could feel the tension, and she wondered whether a group of locals really were planning to take the ship. She hoped not, because Smith might be a crook, and potentially a murderer, but at least he was reasonable. Who knew what kind of hard-bitten criminals might come pouring through the airlock at any moment? Peaceful old Dismolle, with its population of gentle retirees, suddenly seemed impossibly remote.
Tom arrived, and Harriet realised it was the same man she'd held captive earlier. He ignored her, handing Smith the gun before passing one pickaxe handle to the second crew member, keeping another to himself. "What's up, boss?"
"Might be a hijacking. Matt and Lydia went out to refuel, haven't heard anything since. And the camera's been covered up."
The crew members exchanged a glance. "What's the plan?" asked Tom.
"One of you go first, the rest of us will follow. They can't hit all of us at once."
From the look on the men's faces, Harriet could tell they weren't entirely sure about the plan.
"Look, these people know me," said Smith. "Attacking me is suicide, and they know it. It's just some mix-up, and we'll be laughing at this over our beers in a couple of days."
Still the men hesitated, until Smith casually waved his gun. "I'm not going to ask again."
The
