The room fell silent.
David stood up. ‘Well, he’s taken one hell of a risk, so let’s not waste the information.’ He turned to Philippa. ‘If we continue to plot where we know that ship’s been, and what its current position is, we might be able to clarify where it’s going and give ourselves some more time.’
Dan stood up and pulled one of the maps of the North Sea towards him. ‘Okay – let’s plot those coordinates on here and see if we can work out where it’s heading.’
He and Philippa moved quickly, Dan tapping in the information as Philippa read it out. When they were done, he hit the ‘enter’ key and everyone looked at the screen on the wall.
Sarah gasped.
After hours of searching, they’d found the World’s End. It was a lot closer than any of them had thought possible. After losing its ice-breaker escort at Severnya Zemlya, it had maintained a frantic pace through the northern Norwegian waters and was now heading straight towards England.
David looked at the others in turn. ‘Based on what we know to date, we have to assume that ship is headed for the Thames Estuary.’
Chapter 45
Dan zipped up his jacket and walked out through the reception doors. A bitter wind blew down the dimly lit street and the occasional car splashed through water-logged potholes in the bitumen.
He shoved his hands in his pockets and started to walk. He had no idea where he was going – he just needed to get away from the conference room for a while to clear his head.
He set himself a brisk pace and soon began to warm up. He focused on the pavement in front of him, occasionally glancing around to take in his surroundings. He missed the warm weather and wondered if he’d ever return to the city again after this. It all seemed so depressing and grey. He smiled as he thought of his father – now he understood why the man had spent so much time overseas, exploring far-flung places.
For so many years he thought his father had turned his back on him. Now he realised it was just a bad case of wanderlust and a need for adventure. They were more similar than he’d ever realised.
Dan reached a set of traffic lights and turned left. The wind died down and Dan slowed his pace a little. He heard a flapping sound and looked up, startled. Then he relaxed. A poster hung from the street-lamp ahead of him, advertising some sort of festival. He lowered his gaze and continued on.
Frustrated, he ran through the scenarios in his head. It just didn’t feel right. They were still missing something. He slowed down as he approached the steps to David’s offices and pushed open the reception door. Nodding at the security guard, he made his way over to the elevators and stepped in.
When he reached the conference room level, he walked slowly along the corridor, then stopped and leaned against the wall next to the water cooler. He closed his eyes. He could hear the faint sound of voices from the conference room. He rocked his head from side to side, stretching his neck muscles and rolled his shoulders. He had left the room for some fresh air and some time out but hadn’t got any closer to a reason for Delaney’s attack.
If Delaney’s plan was to create an impact at the Olympics, why send the freighter now? It would be months ahead of schedule. In shipping lanes and ports as busy as those bordering the North Sea, there was no way Delaney could hide the ship or the car until the time came to detonate a bomb. And given the required effort to keep the white gold powder stable… it could blow at any time, and not in a controlled way.
Dan opened his eyes. Something was bothering him. He frowned, re-tracing his steps. Then it hit him. The advertising banners hanging from the lamp posts!
Five faces turned as he burst through the conference room door.
‘It’s not the Olympics,’ said Dan, striding across to the conference table and sweeping photos and documents aside. ‘Where’s that plan of the freighter’s route so far?’
‘Here,’ Philippa said, pushing a copy of the printed map towards him.
Dan spun it around and beckoned David closer. ‘Based on its current speed, and presuming it’ll maintain that, what date would it get to the Thames Estuary?’
David picked up a permanent marker and wrote some calculations on the map before drawing a line from the Norwegian coastline to Tilbury. He threw the pen on the table when it was done and looked at Dan.
‘Twenty-seventh of March.’ David looked back at the satellite map. ‘That’s this Saturday.’
Dan nodded. ‘It’s not the Olympics – he’s too early.’
Sarah looked at each of them in confusion. ‘Then what is it?’
Dan looked at her. ‘Earth Hour.’
A shocked silence fell on the room.
‘Earth Hour?’ asked Sarah. ‘Where did you get that idea from?’
Dan nodded to the door. ‘I went for a walk to clear my head – the posters for it are hanging from the street lamps outside.’
‘Why Earth Hour?’ asked David. ‘What’s your thinking behind that?’
‘The impact would be immense,’ said Dan. ‘If Delaney uses a bomb derived from powdered white gold, he’ll put back alternative energy research fifty years or more.’
‘How?’
Dan sat down and ran his fingers through his hair. ‘I thought he was transporting the bomb using a car because the white gold powder was so unstable. It is, but I think the car is meant to look like it is the bomb. This white gold powder stuff is already being incorporated into fuel cell technology in vehicles and companies are spending a lot of time and money researching its potential on a large scale as a future wonder-fuel.’