S.T.E.A.L.T.H.: Rising Storm E-Book

Jason Rohan

• Herausgeber: Nosy Crow Ltd
• Kategorie: Für Kinder und Jugendliche
• Serie: S.T.E.A.L.T.H
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 228

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2023

Beschreibung

Full of thrilling high-octane action, this is the third in an explosive new action-adventure middle grade series. Perfect for fans of Alex Rider, CHERUB and Mission: Impossible. It's the summer holidays and the S.T.E.A.L.T.H. team is split up. Donna is in the Caribbean visiting family while the boys are bored at home, filling time with computer games - until Sam persuades Arun to pay Donna a surprise visit using MANDROID. At the same time, plans are underway to hijack and destroy an oil platform off the Trinidad coast while a tropical storm rages. With MANDROID the only craft capable of operating in such challenging conditions, S.T.E.A.L.T.H. know they have to act to save the workers on the blazing platform and prevent an environmental catastrophe. Without the backing of MI6, the kids have to go it alone in their most dangerous and dangerous mission yet... Arun, Donna and Sam are ordinary school kids with an extraordinary secret. They are S.T.E.A.L.T.H., a crack team of agents in charge of the most cutting-edge piece of tech the world doesn't know exists: MANDROID. Always flying under the radar, they solve crimes, prevent disasters and rescue the innocent - and they STILL have to get their homework in on time!

Leseprobe

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For my Aunt Doolin and all my family in Trinidadvi

1

11:03

“Bandit at five o’clock. He’s on my tail! Missile lock!” Arun said, pulling sharply on the joystick, taking the F-18 Super Hornet fighter aircraft screaming into a steep climb. Cranking the column to the left, he executed a series of rolls. The red square symbol of the enemy targeting system disappeared from the head-up display.

“He missed!” Sam said, over the comm link, and sagged in relief.

“But he’s still out there,” Arun said, scanning the sky. “You’re my wingman. Why didn’t you see him?”

“I don’t know,” Sam said, from the accompanying jet. “He came out of nowhere.”

“My instruments aren’t showing me anything. Can you get a visual?”

“I’m pretty sure it was a Su-57 stealth fighter. That’s why it’s not on your radar.”

“Great,” Arun said. “Don’t tell me where he isn’t, tell me where he is.”

Sam sat bolt upright. “He’s right behind you!”2

Arun punched down on the flap levers to air brake, pivoting the ailerons and flaperons in opposite directions to create maximum drag. His F-18 lifted and slowed, a slab of honed metal rearing into the path of the oncoming Su-57.

The enemy pilot, seeing the American fighter jet slamming towards him, immediately jerked his joystick forward, dropping the nose. His tail fins missed the aircraft above by centimetres as he dived below.

“Now, Sam, now! You’ve got a clear shot,” Arun said. “Take it!”

Sam gunned his F-18 downwards, trying to keep up with the faster, Russian-built plane. The red targeting square on his display slid in all directions, trying to lock on to the zig-zagging shape in front.

BEEP-BEEP-BEEP! The square stopped and began flashing. “Got you!” Sam said and fired his last Sidewinder missile.

In front, the Su-57 launched into a steep climb and released a spray of burning flares in its wake. The Sidewinder missile detonated among them, its onboard computer detecting both a heat source and proximity.

“Argh!” Sam cried. “Missed him.”3

“Where’d he go?” Arun said, his voice tense. “I’ve lost him again.”

“Me, too. He went straight up and vanished.”

Both boys scanned their cockpit displays.

“No sign of him,” Sam said. “That was weird. How can he just— Look out!”

Shrieking downwards, using the blinding glare of the sun as cover, the Su-57 swooped like a bird of prey, its 30mm autocannon blazing.

“No!” Arun banked his F-18 hard to the right. Armour-piercing rounds thudded into the fuselage behind him, alarms shrilled, and dials spun as he lost both power and control. “I’m hit!” he said.

“Game over,” Sam said, pushing his chair back from the screen. “He got us. Again.”

“That was rubbish,” Arun said over Sam’s headset. “I told you we weren’t ready for Level Six.”

“We needed Donna for this,” Sam said. “She would’ve known what to do.”

“Yeah, she’d have gone with full cannons instead of that air-to-air missile you fired.” Arun powered down the gaming console.

“How was I to know he’d use flares?”

“Donna would have known.”4

Sam nodded. “That’s true.” He sighed. “It’s going to be a long summer.”

“What do you want to do now?” Arun said. “You can come over to my house and help me work on that drone I’ve been building.”

Sam yawned and stretched out his arms. “Nah, I’ve got a better idea. How about we go visit you-know-who? I’ve got an idea I want to run past you.”

“OK,” Arun said. “It’s not like anything else is happening. I’ll meet you there, soon as I get my bike.”

Five time zones to the west, on the Caribbean island of Trinidad, Donna sat on the porch of the rented beach house, with her arms hugging her knees. Waves broke softly on the sandy shore while a strong breeze ruffled the fronds of coconut palms. The early morning air was cool and heavy with dew, but already the warmth of the rising sun was chasing away the chill. Donna’s eyes rested on the flat line of the horizon, punctuated only by the tiny silhouettes of distant oil rigs, with orange flickers from flaring gas resembling faraway candles.

The floorboards creaked under the weight of footsteps approaching from the kitchen.

“You can’t sleep?” asked Angie, Donna’s mother, joining 5her on the veranda.

Donna shook her head, keeping her eyes on the horizon.

“Me, neither. Must be the jet lag. Our bodies are still on England time. Here.” Angie held out an enamel mug of hot, sweet, milky tea.

Donna gratefully accepted it, cradling it in her hands.

“Mind if I join you?” Angie said, to which Donna shrugged in reply.

Angie sat beside her and ran her hands through Donna’s soft Afro curls, combing them with her fingers.

“What’s the matter?” Angie asked.

“Nothing,” Donna said, flatly.

Angie arched an eyebrow. “It looks like something to me.”

Donna sighed. “I thought I’d watch the sun come up, you know, catch a tropical sunrise, like in the ads. Big, red sun, lighting up the skies.”

“But?”

“But it was just grey. It got gradually brighter until I figured it must be past dawn but all I saw was a lighter grey.”

“And is that a problem?”

Donna shrugged. “I might as well have stayed at home to see that.”6

Angie sighed. “There is a storm coming in, you know. I can’t fix the weather for you. I try to fix everything else.”

Donna closed her eyes. “I know, Mum. I’m not ungrateful or anything. It’s just four weeks of this is going to be so boring.”

“Your cousins get here tomorrow. You’ll have someone to play with.”

“Mum, I’m not in nursery.”

“You know what I mean. You’ll have more friends here than…”

“What makes you think I don’t have friends back home?” Donna said, pulling her head away from her mother’s hand.

Angie tilted her head back, trying to read her daughter’s mood. “Oh, little things, like you never talk about anyone, or bring anyone home, or go to any parties. A girl your age should be socialising with your peers. What do they call it, a friendship group?”

Donna rolled her eyes. “Maybe my peers don’t want to socialise with me. Ever thought of that? Normal kids like to hang out with other normal kids, and having a drug dealer for a dad isn’t exactly what you call normal, is it?”

Angie’s smile flatlined. “Donna, let’s not go over that again, all right? What’s done is done. You don’t have to let it ruin your life.”7

“It’s too late for that. My life got ruined when you put Dad in jail.” Donna tossed the contents of her mug over the porch rail and sprang to her feet.

“Donna! Wait,” Angie said, but it was too late. Donna vaulted the rail, landed on the sand and bolted along the beach.

With her head down and breaking into a sprint, she failed to notice the hooded figure watching her from the tree line.

8

11:24

Arun stashed his bicycle next to Sam’s, behind a skip in the builders’ yard. He then made his way to the back of the lot where tarpaulins covered what could easily pass for a small shipping container. Arun stopped and checked to make sure no one was looking before he ducked under the canvas. Hidden beneath the sheeting was a blue and gold, multi-wheeled motor home, the default configuration for MANDROID, a cutting-edge, super-advanced rescue vehicle, built by Arun’s father and now watched over by Sam.

The door opened and Sam beckoned Arun inside the cab, which had an uneven floor and three seats spaced out along the length, each with a horseshoe-shaped instrument console surrounding it.

“It’s still clean,” Arun said, noting the lack of rubbish on the floor. “Have you not been in here much?”

“Nah,” Sam said. “I try and come here every day, to keep him company, but he’s started reminding me to clean up.”9

Arun grinned. “You mean, MANDROID’s nagging you now?”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Sam said sheepishly. “He’s just looking out for me. He’s a great listener and he gives me good advice.”

“Really?” Arun’s face couldn’t conceal his amusement. “You do know he’s not alive and he hardly has life experience?”

“I know,” Sam said, “but he learns so quickly, and he’s been on the internet.”

“You what?” Arun said, his smile vanishing. “Didn’t we talk about this? You know the danger.”

“But he’s one of us, Arun. He’s hardly going to become self-aware, take over the world and enslave humanity.”

Arun’s eyes swept the interior as if he were afraid something would leap out at him. “Fine,” he said. “Let’s sort this out.” He clapped his hands twice and called out, “Ahoy, matey!”

Ahoy,CommanderLal, replied the flat computerised voice of the MANDROID AI. HowmayIbeofservice?

Arun stuck his hands in his pockets and leaned back against the front seat. “Sam tells me you’ve been online, that you have internet access.”

Thatiscorrectbutonlyinacontrolledfashion. 10

“I hotspot my phone for him,” Sam said. “It’s got limited data, so he can’t do much. I’m not stupid, you know.”

MayIaskwhyCommanderLalisagitated?MANDROID said. Mysensorsindicateheightenedbloodpressureandcortisollevels.

“Arun is afraid of the Singularity,” Sam said. “He thinks if I give you access to all of human knowledge, you’ll become smarter than us, think for yourself and take over the world.”

“It’s possible,” Arun said.

Theconcernisunderstandable, MANDROID said, butmisplaced.WhileImaybeabletoassistinnarrowingdownmultiplecoursesofaction,Icannotactindependently.

“See?” Sam said.

“So, if Sam gives you an order to protect people, you won’t take that literally and lock them in a cage for their own good, or anything like that?” Arun said.

WoulditreassureyouifIsaidthatCaptainEvansdirectedmesolelytorelationshipadvicewebsites?

“No, I didn’t!” Sam said, his face reddening. “Stop talking. That’s an order.”

“You know, I could just ask him for a readout of all the sites you sent him to,” Arun said, grinning.

“You can’t do that!” Sam said, scandalised. “That would 11be a violation of my privacy. Do that and we won’t be friends any more. I mean it.”

“All right,” Arun said. “Just keep to secure sites.”

“I know,” Sam said, “I’m not stupid.”

Arun sensed it was time to change the subject. “What was it you wanted to talk to me about? You said you had an idea you wanted to discuss.”

Donna’s sprint had become a brisk jog; she kept her back straight and concentrated on her breathing. The sky was brighter now and she could see small, brightly coloured fishing boats bobbing on the sea. Her run had taken her past beach houses, dog-walkers and coconut sellers.

Behind her, the exhaust of a 125cc dirt bike buzzed noisily.

Running always helped Donna to clear her head. She felt bad about the row she’d had with her mother and knew she would have to turn around soon. At the same time, she was enjoying the openness of the beach and the freedom of being in a new place where no one knew her.

The annoying dirt bike was getting louder as it came closer.

Donna hadn’t been to Trinidad for two years but remembered the last time well. She’d mostly been shuttled 12from one group of relatives to another, wasn’t allowed to go anywhere by herself and had received sympathetic looks wherever she went. The last thing she needed was four weeks of the same.

With a roar, the dirt bike skimmed past her, its tyres throwing up a spray of sand in its wake. Donna swore as the grains rained down upon her and landed in her hair and down her neck.

“Oi!” she yelled at the departing rider. “You couldn’t get any closer?”

In response, the rider braked and swung the bike across Donna’s path.

“You think that was funny, do you?” Donna yelled at the biker, who was wearing a Hawaiian shirt and dress shorts. “You should learn to ride properly, you mug!”

The rider reached up, removed his helmet, and shook out his mane of shoulder-length highlighted hair. He beamed with a bright smile of dazzlingly whitened teeth.

Donna stopped dead in her tracks and stared.

“Princess!” said the rider. “Come on, Is that any way to talk to your father?”

13

11:30

Sam sat in the middle seat of the camper van while Arun leaned against the front console, arms folded in expectation.

“Um … yeah. Right. Where to begin?” Sam said, rubbing his face with his hands. “Do you know what tomorrow is?”

Arun was baffled. “It’s the day after today. Or, Wednesday, if you like.”

“No, not that. There’s something else, which makes it special.”

“It’s National Doughnut Day, or something equally daft?”

“No, that’s already passed. It’s Donna’s birthday.”

Arun cocked his head. “Since when?”

“Duh, since she was born. That’s kind of how a birthday works.”

“I mean, how do you know? She’s never mentioned it, and it’s not like she’s ever had a party or anything.”

A pink flush coloured Sam’s cheeks. “I looked it up,” he said, quietly.

“Eww. Isn’t that a bit stalker-ish?”14

“I didn’t mean to,” Sam elaborated quickly. “It’s just … you remember when we were doing random distribution curves in maths, and the teacher went through the class getting us to raise our hands for each month we were born in? I saw then that Donna was an August baby, which is why she never has a birthday during school time.”

“That doesn’t explain why—”

“Let me finish. So that got me thinking about why she never tells anyone anything about herself, like, is she just shy, or is she really guarded, or does she just take time to warm up to people? And then I started wondering if she’s born in early August or late August, because people born later on are more private so that might explain it.”

Arun blinked several times and shook his head, as if to clear it. “What are you talking about?”

“If she’s a Virgo or a Leo,” Sam said, as if this was the most obvious thing in the world. “So I had to snoop around a bit to find the date.”

Arun straightened up and raised his index finger, waving it from side to side like a windscreen wiper, unconsciously borrowing one of Donna’s signature moves. “No, no, no. I know you better than that. MANDROID? Did Sam ever ask you anything about astrology?”

CaptainEvansdidaskmeaboutthepotential 15compatibilitybetweenaLeoandaSagittarius.

“That’s a lie!” Sam said. “Don’t listen to him.”

“I knew it!” Arun said in triumph. “That is so sad. You don’t even believe in astrology.”

“What’s that got to do with it? All I was trying to do was understand her better. What’s so wrong with that?”

Arun studied his friend’s deflated posture and immediately regretted making fun of him.

“No, you’re right,” he said. “I’m sorry. I just don’t believe that a bunch of stars, so far away, can influence anything. But if the idea’s stuck around this long, maybe there’s something to it.”

“It says Leos are loyal, honest, confident, good leaders, intense.”

“Donna’s definitely intense,” Arun agreed. “And what does it say about a Sagittarius, like you?”

“Adventurous, bold, energetic, independent.”

“None of which is you, which proves my point,” Arun said. “But what’s all this got to do with your big idea?””

It took Donna a moment to process what was happening. Her father, Phil, was supposed to be back in London, not on a beach in Trinidad.

“Yeah, I know,” he said, perched on the motorbike and 16grinning at the stunned look on her face. “Surprise!”

“What are you doing here?” Donna said, her voice heavy with suspicion.

“It’s your birthday tomorrow. I brought you a present.”

“And it couldn’t keep until I got back?”

Phil shrugged. “I still have visitation rights, don’t I? Just because your mother takes you out of the country, it doesn’t mean I can’t see you if I want.”

“Fine.” Donna shrugged. “Mum will kill you if she finds out.”

Phil grinned. “Then this will have to be our little secret. You hungry? I know a good place for breakfast. Hop on.” He revved the four-stroke engine.

Donna weighed it up, before saying, “Sure, why not? But I’ll drive. You can give directions.”

She straddled the seat and pushed backwards until her dad took the hint and shuffled back.

“Hang on to your pants,” she said, and gunned the engine.

“Whoa!” Phil grabbed a handful of her T-shirt to stop himself from falling off and then wrapped both arms around her waist. “This is cosy,” he shouted above the noise of the engine.

Five minutes later, the dirt bike stopped in front of a 17wooden shack with a corrugated metal roof and several picnic tables in front. On a hand-painted sign outside were the words: Tony’sBake&Shark.

“What are you having?” Phil asked, leading the way.

“Sharks are endangered. I’ll go with doubles,” Donna said.

“Suit yourself, although Tony here only uses grouper instead. It’s more sustainable.”

Donna watched her father approach the vendor who lit up at the sight of him.

“Phil, man! You back already?” Tony roared. “I know my food is good but I didn’t think it was thatgood! I only just opened up.”

“I’m a working man,” Phil said, sharing an enthusiastic hand slap. “Working up an appetite.”

Donna’s mind was fizzing with questions. She knew her father was a regular visitor to the islands but why was he here at this time? Was it just for her birthday? Or, knowing him, was he up to something else?

He whistled to get her attention and nodded towards an empty table where he set down two plates of food. Donna joined him, reaching for her doubles: a pair of fried dough patties with a dollop of curried chickpeas sandwiched in the middle. Her father tucked into his 18plate of heavily seasoned, sauteed fish on a fluffy fried dumpling smothered with salad and sauces. Steelpan calypso music played over the speakers and the breeze rustled the crowns of palm trees.

“This is nice, isn’t it?” Phil said, between bites.

“Why are you really here?” Donna asked.

“I told you. Stopped by for my favourite girl’s birthday.” Phil wiped a dribble of ketchup from his chin.

“You didn’t come all the way over here just for that.”

“True,” Phil said. “I might have had some business to take care of as well, so why not kill two birds?”

Donna’s eyes narrowed with suspicion. “How did you know where I was? Have you been following me?”

“Wow, you’re starting to sound like your mother.” Phil took a sip of water. “I have a lot of contacts here. What can I say? I know people and they know people. It’s not hard to find things out on a small island.”

A shadow fell over the table and Donna looked up see a large man wearing a baseball cap and a cut-off T-shirt. Beside him was a rangy individual in a bucket hat.

“You need to come with us,” the hefty guy said.

“Can’t you see I’m eating?” Phil said, stuffing another chunk of fried fish into his mouth. “Talk to Leon. He deals with local stuff.”19

“He said to talk to you. It was the last thing he said before I cut his tongue out,” the skinny chap drawled.

Phil stopped eating and wiped his hands on a paper towel. “Who are you again?”

The big chap hauled him to his feet and shoved him towards a waiting van. “Chilly, bring the girl.”

“Wait, she’s not part of this,” Phil said. “Leave her alone.”

Donna sprang to her feet and had started towards the bike when her head was abruptly yanked backwards and she cried out, in hurt and surprise. Chilly pulled her to him by the fistful of hair in his hand.

“Try that again and I’ll cut both of your Achilles tendons, you understand?” he hissed in her ear.

Donna nodded, tears of rage and pain welling in her eyes.

“Good, now turn out your pockets, give me your phones and get in the van. Both of you.”

20

11:42

“Promise me you won’t judge, that you’ll hear me out before you say anything,” Sam said to Arun.

“All right,” Arun said, still leaning against the pilot’s console. “I promise.”

“It’s Donna’s birthday tomorrow and, as it’s the summer holidays and she doesn’t tell anyone, or have many friends, she’s probably not doing much, right?” Sam said.

Arun shrugged. “She’s in Trinidad. She might have loads of friends and family over there to celebrate with.”

“But that’s not the same,” Sam protested. “They don’t know her like we know her. We’re her besties.”

“I’m not sure she’d agree with that but go on,” Arun said.

“Well, I was thinking, wouldn’t it be a nice surprise if we wished her a happy birthday? In person.”

Arun blinked several times. “Whuh?”

“I’ve thought about it. We could take MANDROID, spend a couple of hours with her. Then we could turn around and be back here by five. No one would ever know.”

“Are you out of your mind?” Arun said, after a long 21pause to process what he had just heard. “The Secret Intelligence Service – Mr Quinn would kill us. Literally. You know what he’s like.”

“He doesn’t have to know. What is it you always say? ‘It is easier to ask for forgiveness than for permission.’”

“That’s different,” Arun said. “Usually that’s about stealing a biscuit from the tin, not taking a billion-pound stealth device for a joyride. Besides, Donna’s bound to be busy tomorrow. We’ll hardly get a look in.”

“Which is why we go today,” Sam said. “Imagine her face when she sees us. It’ll be a heck of a birthday surprise.”

“No.”

“She’s probably missing us. I mean, we’re missing her, and we won’t see her again until term starts.”

“No.”

“Haven’t you always wanted to see the Caribbean? Come on, it’ll be fun.”

“Since when are you so keen on breaking the rules? I thought you’d be the last person to come up with something as crazy as this,” Arun said in bewilderment.

“That shows how little you know me. Us Sagittarians are bold and adventurous, remember?”

Arun shook his head, slowly, as if answering his own questions.22

“There’s something else,” Sam added. “MANDROID is meant for worldwide operations, right? But we had to do a massive fuel burn to hit Mach Five when we went to Austria, so that got me thinking there has to be another way to travel long distances without using so much fuel.”

“Yeah,” Arun agreed. “My dad would have figured that part out.”

“And so did I,” Sam said. “We go sub-orbital. Show him, MANDROID.”

Certainly,Captain.Here’soneIpreparedearlier.

The head-up display on the front windscreen flickered to life and showed a spinning diagram of the planet Earth.

“Did you teach him to say that?” Arun said.

Sam grinned. “Good, isn’t it? Anyhow, look at the globe. We take off and head straight up into space, like a rocket. We’re going west and the Earth spins to the east at a thousand miles per hour, so already it’s bringing our destination towards us.”

On the display, a red dot lifted from the surface of the blue sphere and traced a south-west trajectory across the Atlantic Ocean, from the UK down towards South America.

“Then we come down for a landing, like one great big 23bunny hop,” Sam said. “That’s four thousand miles in less than an hour. We can do it.”

Arun studied the graphic on the windscreen. “That would certainly get us to most trouble spots, using the Earth’s rotation in our favour.”

“You see? Come on, we should test it, make sure it works. We can’t wait until a real emergency happens.”

“You want us to make an unauthorised flight to the West Indies to test a sub-orbital flight path?”

“Sure. You never know when we’ll need it.”

Arun straightened up and turned in a slow circle, taking in all of the instrument panels, seats, screens and windows.

“MANDROID, can you do sub-orbital flight?” he said.

CaptainEvanshasalreadyverifiedthisandIamequippedtooperateinallenvironments.

“As you keep saying.”

“Arun, what would Donna say, if it were her decision?” Sam said.

“She’d say, ‘Screw it, let’s do it.’” Arun smiled.

Donna scowled at her father from the rough bench in the back of the bouncing van. He sat opposite, with his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands. 24

“Dad, who are these psychos and why are they after you? Who is that Leon bloke you talked about?” Donna asked.

Phil looked up at her. “I’m not going to lie to you. We are in deep doo-doo here. These are some very bad men and this is not going to end well.”

Donna threw her head back in exasperation. “Why do you mix yourself up with people like this? How hard can it be to go legit, get a real job, work in Lidl or something?”

“It’s not that easy when you’ve got a criminal record,” Phil said, raising his voice over the noise of the engine. “I get by.”

“No offence, Dad, but I thought you were strictly small time. What are you doing here?”

Phil leaned back, feeling the coolness of the metal wall through his sweat-soaked shirt. “Look, you know I have contacts in the islands.”

“Yeah, someone’s got to supply your weed.”

“And other merch. We get some product in from Colombia via Venezuela. I get boats to drop it off the Trinidad coast and we pick it up later.”

“So, you’ve added smuggling to dealing. Nice,” Donna said, sitting back and crossing her arms.

“Oh, don’t be so naïve! That’s how business works. If 25you can, you take over the supply chain to cut down on logistics expenses. Why do you think Amazon stopped using Royal Mail?”

“And these guys are mad at you because what? They didn’t get their Prime package on time?”

“Donna, I have no idea what these thugs want and that’s what terrifies me the most.”

The portly man brushed a speck of lint off the brow of his peaked cap and settled it on his head.

Taking one last look in the mirror, he left the house and went to the minibus parked in the drive. It had taken months of savings and a whopping bank loan to acquire the twelve-seat Toyota Hiace but it had been worth it to secure the contract with Petrodad. The money was good, the oil company paid him on time and the work was simple. He didn’t even mind the early starts because the roads were quieter, even though his wife continued to fret and constantly warned him that his prized minibus would be the death of him.