Crash Course by Derek Fee (pdf to ebook reader .txt) 📕

“I know you won’t like to hear it but I don’t think this operation will work out. It was always a longshot but it’s been a couple of months and we’ve made no progress. Maybe it’s time to call it a day.”

“That’s your honest opinion?”

“For what it’s worth.”

“Have you discussed it with Davenport?”

“I will after this race.”

“What about the Penhalions?”

“If Davenport is on board, Doc and I will be pulled out and they’ll have to find replacements. Maybe we’ll be doing them a favour.”

“They may not see it that way. That might be the nail in the coffin for Penhalion Marine.”

“You should have thought of that when you launched your crusade. Maybe they’d already be bust if you hadn’t come along. They’re just collateral damage.”

“They’re good people. It won’t be pleasant when they find out they’ve been used.”

“That’s your problem. They’ll never find Doc and me but you’re in the phonebook.”

“You don’t paint a pleasant picture.”

“I’m trying to be honest.”

“Where do we go from here?”

“The race is tomorrow. I’ll call Davenport on Monday and tell him I think we’re wasting our time. The decision will be his.”

“You’re a decent man, Mark. You may try to hide it but you have a heart.” He climbed slowly out of the chair. “You have an important race tomorrow.”

“It’s for the best.”

“Is it?”

Chapter Thirty-Five

It was early Sunday afternoon when the crews assembled at Port Palm Beach for the opening ceremony of the second race in the European Offshore Powerboat Championship. The race organisers had arranged a pre-race parade of the drivers through the crowded street of Cannes. The open-air bus with the legend ‘Les Vedettes de l’Offshore’ stencilled on the side drove along the Promenade de la Croisette through a crowd, fifty per cent of whom had come to Cannes for a sun-worshipping session only to find themselves in the middle of an event. In typically French fashion they had accepted their role as audience and applauded the unknown stars with gusto.

Kane and Morweena sat on the open upper section of the bus. Hakonen and Tardelli sat in front of them waving enthusiastically to the crowd while directly behind them Tadeka and his throttleman sat in stoic silence.

“Nervous?” he asked.

“You bet. It’s life or death for Penhalion Marine.”

There are times in every undercover operation when the operative feels shit about deceiving a civilian. Kane was having one of those moments. Bell was wrong about him being hard and it didn’t feel good.

As they passed Port Canto which adjoins the smaller Port Palm Beach, Kane saw that a flotilla of yachts and speedboats were already gathered at the exit of the port awaiting the start of the race. A tingle of excitement ran through him.

The Port Palm Beach promenade was crammed with spectators as the bus bearing the competitors entered the port.

David and Tom were standing beside the finger wharf where their boat was berthed.

“How are you two feeling?” David greeted Kane and Morweena as they stepped off the bus.

“Raring to get out there and do the business,” Kane said, taking his helmet and lifejacket from Reg.

“We’ve already checked the comms,” Reg said. “And the engines are humming like a bird.”

Morweena stood while Reg slipped the lifejacket over her arms, sucking in great gulps of air to control her heartbeat. This would be the big one. A third in Sorrento and a good showing in Cannes would set them up for the last two races in Barcelona and Bournemouth. Then it would be Key West and the World Championship and hopefully a last-minute reprieve for Penhalion Marine.

Tom moved close to Kane. The finger wharf was crammed with powerboat crews.

“I want you to take care of yourself out there today,” he said. “No more heroics like at Sorrento. I don’t want to take either Morweena or you out of here in a box.” There was a look of genuine concern on the old Yorkshireman’s face.

“Don’t worry. We’ll be careful.”

“This is it, Mark,” David said, grasping his free hand. “Get us onto the rostrum.”

“We’ll do our best, David. Where will you watch from?”

A tension-filled smile appeared on David’s face. “Tom has put us into the big league today. He’s hired a helicopter so we can cover the entire course. We’ll be in contact with you from the chopper. Which reminds me, we better be off if we’re to be in position before the start.”

Tom hugged both Kane and Morweena before following David towards the main section of the port where a car was waiting to take them to the helicopter pad.

Kane couldn’t suppress the feeling of excitement as he strapped himself into his safety harness. Even after such a short acquaintance, he was beginning to have a human relationship with the fibreglass and Kevlar hull. As soon as Morweena had settled herself, Kane turned the ignition key and the engines thundered into motion.

Kane put his hand out and touched Morweena. “All set?” he asked.

“Ready when you are, skipper.” She smiled nervously.

More than half the powerboats had already made their way past the exit from the harbour and out into the blue seas of the Baie de Cannes and on into the Mediterranean.

The weather conditions were in marked contrast to Sorrento. The water in the port was still and a warm sun beat down from a clear azure sky.

During the qualifying race, Kane had learned that there were significant differences between the course at Sorrento and Cannes. The previous race had taken place in a sheltered bay with only one leg being exposed to the open sea. The course at Cannes, by contrast, was totally offshore and therefore exposed to the full effects of the Mediterranean’s winds and waves. The noise in the tiny port was deafening as the throttlemen gunned their engines in preparation for the race. Morweena eased up the throttle and Kane steered away from the wharf and out into the murky waters of the port.

Bill Thompson stood at the centre of the marina and watched the Kernow move smoothly away