In The Archipelago's Secret Service

25: His Mother's Son

Twenty-Five: His Mother's Son

A tyre blew out and Eret felt the tug on the wheel immediately as the limousine slewed towards the cliff edge. Ruff was wrestling with the last nuclear rod and cursing...but with a clunk, it finally came free. Instantly, she grabbed the rods and crawled over the seats into the back, slamming sideways as more bullets pinged off the bodywork and the limo jerked sideways again.

"Hey!" Ruff protested, rubbing her head.

"You wanna drive?" Eret challenged her.

"You wanna stow the radioactive rods?" she shot back gruffly, trying not to imagine what the things were doing to her.

"I'm good!" he grinned back, sharing the same thought, as she lifted the upholstery in the centre of the back seat to reveal the safe. "Code is 1099BA." She thumbed the code in and saw the door click, the wrenched it open. There were papers and a picture of Inga Olafson, the Archipelago-born supermodel, inside, which Ruff instantly threw out of the way. With a small prayer, she shoved the rods in, slamming the door and twirling the lock, then slamming the cushion back in place.

"Can you get us by the cliff edge?" she yelled.

"Why?"

"I wanna jump!" she retorted sarcastically. He glanced at her. "To dump the bomb, mutton-head?" she prompted him. "Unless you really want to be blasted to pieces?"

"Still good," he replied and spun then round, barging straight at the dirt bikes. "Let's send this Submaripper back where it belongs!"

oOo

Tuff had raced after Heather on the dirt bike, gunning the engine and driving insanely dangerously through the rolling and steep wooded terrain. Basically anything stupidly dangerous was twins territory: sky-diving, base jumping, wing-suits, scuba diving, cliff diving, trail biking...anything that could easily cause severe injury. But Heather had been committed and armed and Tuff had needed to dodge bullets as he followed her, determined not to let her get away. He would rather he risked his life with the bomb than Ruff-though he would never admit he cared to his sister. And he couldn't understand why Heather needed to leave a bomb when her brother was already going to kill the President...unless Larson wasn't the only target.

As Heather doubled back, Tuff saw the black limousine race away, the familiar shape of Eret in the driver's seat...and Ruff beside him.

"Good work, butt-elf," he muttered as he revved the engine. "You got him...now just don't accidentally kill him." Instantly, Heather shot off after the black limousine, barely matching pace with the wildly swerving vehicle as it crashed through the fence and out onto the coastal road. Tuff pulled alongside and then ducked as Heather shot at him, dropping back and zooming up right behind her. As he watched, she fired furiously at the limousine and blew out one of the rear tyres. He pulled right up behind her, ducking down as she lined up and fired again at the car. Suddenly, the limousine skidded round and charged straight at them-and the two bikes split, avoiding the hood by inches. Heather was straight after the car, seemingly determined to make the device explode.

Tuff zipped round, seeing a small ridge up ahead and as he watched, his sister shoved the door open. She leaned out as Heather lined her gun on the blonde shape...and he made his choice. His sister was a pain in the butt he would protect her to his dying breath-and he certainly couldn't watch her being shot. So he accelerated over the little rise and threw himself away from the bike, seeing it shoot like a missile unerringly into Heather's as Ruff threw a green metallic object-the bomb-out of the car and over the cliff. The gun flew from Heather's despairing grasp as her bike spun away and the screaming woman and it skidded to the edge of the cliff...and vanished.