Spy Cat (5 page)

The clouds gathered and drizzle started to fall. Ben and Ollie stood together behind the bush, seeing whose wee could go furthest. Shakespeare was in a nearby tree, listening and watching, hoping for an adventure but beginning to think that camping was a bad idea.
I hate the wet
, he thought. And he missed Sophie's comfortable bedroom
. I guess I've got used to a bit of luxury
, he admitted to himself. The cat had a perfect view of the surrounding area. He couldn't see the farmhouse but he assumed it was just over the hill.
Sheep everywhere – creatures even more stupid than dogs! And a very grey, cold sea pounding in the background.
He'd already scouted the site. There was a steep drop to the sea one way. And a path down to a rocky cove the other way.
And miles and miles of fields and sheep in all other directions.

The slightly tedious peace was suddenly shattered as a helicopter rose up from the cove, looming at tree level before rising higher into the sky. Wet leaves slapped the cat and the branches bent in the gale. Shakespeare had to extend his claws to hold on. He wrapped his tail tightly round a branch. The children all looked upwards towards the helicopter. Ollie was pointing, his hair blowing in the wind. Sophie had her hands over her ears and Ben was shielding his face as dust and sand whipped all around their campsite. Shakespeare looked upwards. It was a black helicopter with
Police
emblazoned on the side. It hovered above the site for a few seconds as if looking for something, before banking left and following the line of the seashore.

‘That was cool,' yelled Ben as the dust settled. ‘Police! Could be looking for baddies!'

Shakespeare regained his composure and smoothed his fur.
Police helicopters? Baddies?
He looked down at the kids, his eyes focusing on Sophie. His cat sixth sense told him very strongly that rule number one needed to be kept firmly in mind.

The man with the camera sank into the bush, hoping to be hidden. His heart pounded as the helicopter hovered. He felt the leaves blowing around him and crouched to make himself small, pulling his camera lens into the greenery. He watched the tent bending in the wind. He looked at the policeman scanning the scene with powerful binoculars. After a few seconds the chopper disappeared and the man breathed a sigh of relief. The helicopter had spotted the children but not him.

It was typical camping weather, but Ben wasn't going to let the drizzle spoil his fun. He loved Lara and was proud to have a Spy Dog as his pet. But this was the first time they'd been on holiday without her and he felt free. As the oldest child, his enthusiasm was infectious. The three children sat in the tent munching crisps and sandwiches, as Ben spread out a map and jabbed a finger at the crosses.

 

 

‘I've been doing some homework. These are old mines,' he said, spitting peanut butter on to the map. ‘Fancy exploring?'

‘Gold …' began Ollie, an excited grin lighting his face.

‘Not quite,' corrected Sophie. ‘Tin, Ollie. Boring old tin. And all the mines are closed. And dangerous,' she reminded, nodding knowingly at her elder brother. ‘And creepy.'

‘Exactly,' gasped Ben. ‘I'm in charge so I'll make sure everything is totally safe. If I play it right I can get my explorer's badge and my health and safety one too!'

‘Cool,' drooled Ollie. ‘Lost treasure. Like Indiana Jones.'

‘The mine's entrances have been filled in,' explained Ben. ‘But some of the air vents are still open. I've marked these crosses,' he said, tapping the map, ‘where I reckon we can get in.'

Sophie tutted as Ben opened the tent flap and Ollie disappeared outside. ‘You'd better make sure it's safe,' she warned, secretly quite excited about exploring an old mine.

Not to worry
, purred Shakespeare from the branch above.
Secret Agent 009 will keep an eye on things.

There was only so long you could hide in a bush without it becoming very uncomfortable. The man had a twig sticking in his ear and he
had cramp in his toes. And the bush was soaked so rain dripped down his neck. Suddenly, he saw that the children were on the move. ‘At last!' He waited while they skipped across the field. ‘Strange,' he growled, as a cat jumped down from the tree and began to follow the children.

The children followed a map, the cat followed the children and the man followed the cat.

Shakespeare soon got bored with following. He much preferred leading. He'd taken a short cut through some sheep and was hiding in the long grass as the children approached.
Ollie has seen me in the cool box
, he thought,
but Sophie and Ben don't know about me and it's probably best to keep it that way.

‘It's fenced off,' noted Ben, standing on the first bar of the fence and peering over. Sophie took a rock and threw it down the hole. It seemed an age before the children heard the rock hit the bottom. ‘Wow,' gasped Ben, ‘that's a very deep hole.'

‘It certainly is, young lad,' said the man with the camera. He was puffing hard as he came up the hill. His face was red and he'd removed his jumper, revealing tattoos on both arms. ‘You
shouldn't mess about near mines,' he warned. ‘It's dangerous.'

‘We're just looking,' said Ollie, taking an instant dislike to being bossed around.

‘Well, you shouldn't even be looking,' said the man. ‘Clear off, all three of you,' he said, waving his hand over the horizon. ‘You don't know what unsavoury characters you might meet.'

‘What, like you?' began Ollie, before being cut short by a look from his elder brother.

‘Less of the lip, sonny,' frowned the man. ‘I
know these mines like the back of my hand. And I can assure you they're very dangerous.'

 

 

‘We're leaving,' said Ben calmly, marching the children along the coast path towards the next cross on his map.

Shakespeare crouched lower, his tail swishing but his body still. If the man had really focused he might have seen a pair of pussy ears poking out of the long grass as the cat eyed the man suspiciously.

The tattooed man watched the children march off before climbing over the fence and creeping to the edge of the hole. He opened his bag and took out a torch, shining a powerful beam into the darkness. Shakespeare stretched his neck like an Egyptian cat, taking in the scene. As the man peered down the hole Shakespeare looked on in shock. A camera had fallen out of the man's backpack and …
no way
… Shakespeare crept closer, like a lion stalking its prey …
a gun!
The man's bottom was in the air as he peered into the hole and right there beside him was a pistol.
I've never seen one in real life but I've seen them on the TV in action movies
, thought Shakespeare.
Not only is he a horrible man. He's armed and dangerous!

‘This one does look more promising,' said Sophie as they approached the hole in the ground. There was a rickety fence built round the mineshaft to stop anyone accidentally wandering in. ‘That horrible man isn't around to tell us off, and look, there's a rope dangling over the edge. Looks like someone's put it there so you can climb down.'

Ben was already over the fence and peering into the black hole. ‘Hellooo,' he yelled, his voice disappearing into the blackness.

‘Helloooo,' echoed Ollie, standing next to his brother.

Ben knelt down and grabbed the rope. It was tied securely to one of the fence posts. ‘And it's a new rope,' he said excitedly, ‘so it's dead safe.'

He was shocked as a head poked out of the hole. ‘Yup,' said the lady, smiling as she hauled herself out of the hole. ‘Perfectly safe.'

‘Crikey,' said Ben. ‘We weren't expecting anyone to actually be down the mine!'

‘I'm a rock climber and caver,' said the lady, holding her hand out to shake Ben's. ‘Jess Bradley.'

‘Hi, Jess,' said Ben, looking her up and down.
She was dressed in brightly coloured survival gear. She took off her helmet and removed her backpack with a sigh of relief. ‘I've been exploring these mines for the last couple of days,' she said. ‘It's tiring work!'

 

 

‘You're nicer than the other person we just met,' said Ollie. ‘He was really horrid.'

Jess's mood seemed to change in an instant. ‘What other person?' she asked, looking left and then right, her eyes darting around.

‘A horrible man with tattoos,' piped up Ollie.

‘When did you see him?' she barked, her fear transferring to the kids.

‘Ten minutes ago,' said Ben. ‘Why? What's wrong?'

‘Quick, kids,' warned Jess, ‘follow me.' She skipped through the wet grass towards a cluster of trees, the children in hot pursuit. They reached the hiding place, breathless. ‘Down,' she ordered, just as the man's head bobbed over
the hill. Jess and the children lay flat, their heads poking out of the grass as the man approached the deserted mine.

‘Who is he?' hissed Sophie as the man climbed over the fence and tugged at the rope. ‘He said he knew the mines like the back of his hand.'

‘Haven't you heard the news?' whispered Jess. ‘There's an escaped prisoner. Yesterday. From a maximum security prison. Distracted the guards and climbed over the wall. The first one ever to escape.'

The children gulped as the man took off his backpack and rummaged inside. ‘And the prison is only five miles from here,' hissed Jess. There've been police helicopters and everything.'

Ben's eyes were wide as he remembered it hovering over them this morning. ‘We saw it,' he mouthed. ‘What do you know about the prisoner?'

‘Very dangerous,' mouthed back Jess, pointing towards the man. ‘I saw it on the news this morning. The police warned the public not to approach him.'

‘It might not be him,' suggested Ollie. ‘What's the description?'

‘Tattoos,' hissed Jess. ‘And a gun.'

All eyes went back to the man whose tattooed arms were reaching into his backpack. Ben gulped as he pulled out a revolver. He stuffed it into his belt and prepared to go down into the disused mine.