head. ‘It gets worse. The police commissioner has said that instead of this exercise being a sterile operation, they’re giving the program real focus by having your capture as part of the agenda. Apparently the authorities are even going to be doing a bit of random fingerprinting at Departures.’
‘What do we do?’
‘Nothing we can do,’ replied Sharkey. ‘We’ve just gotta do everything we planned and hope we slip through somehow.’
I exhaled loudly and stared through the window at the fast-moving world outside.
‘Come on,’ Winter comforted me, patting my knee like my mum used to. ‘Somehow we’ll get through. I can feel it.’
I turned to her and forced a smile. She was wearing an emerald-green beret and her dark hair tumbled down over her shoulders. I hoped her feeling was right.
‘Do you all have your stories straight?’ Sharkey asked.
‘Absolutely,’ I replied, happy to have something to distract me from the somersaults in my stomach. ‘I’m Matt Marlow, travelling to Ireland with my friends Joshua Stern and Grace Lee, and our history teacher Mr Nelson Sharkey.’
Sharkey nodded, but I could see that even he was nervous. He was used to being the law-abiding good guy, and now he was aiding and abetting a wanted fugitive.
The number of police cars on the street, and helicopters in the sky, grew thicker the closer we came to the airport. Luckily the lane leading to Departures, that the police had taken over for random checking, was full as we cruised past.
Sharkey parked and we all began the nail-biting trek inside. I stopped myself from looking around, but couldn’t control the sweat that had broken out on my forehead. I knew the people on passport control were trained to look for suspicious characters, and if I didn’t control my anxious,darting glances, and do something about the sweating, I’d be discovered.
With Christmas so near, the whole airport was buzzing. I guessed most travellers were going on holidays, maybe joining their families overseas, like Sharkey. They were fussing over luggage labels, chasing kids around, wheeling suitcases that were probably weighed down with presents. I felt like our sombre group was sticking out like a sore thumb.
For me this was the first part of the final obstacle in this year-long quest. I could almost taste victory. I shifted the weight of my backpack . Inside I had warm clothes Boges had lent me for the Irish winter, and beneath them was a smaller zip-lock bag containing the Riddle, the Jewel and our notes. I wasn’t checking my backpack in—nothing was going to separate me from everything I had inside.
‘Just relax, Matt,’ said Winter, who had obviously noticed the state I was in.
‘I’m trying, Grace ,’ I said through gritted teeth.
‘OK,’ Nelson interrupted. ‘We have our stories straight, so let’s check in. Any questions, just refer to me.’
I looked up and noticed that Sharkey had beads of sweat on his brow. He seemed really nervousfor me; his eyes were scanning the international check-in area.
We just had to make it onto the plane.
The four of us had made it through check-in—our fake passports had held up so far—and we were following Sharkey, walking over to the queue for passport control. None of us had said anything to each other since checking in—we were all too tense.
Suddenly Sharkey slowed up, forcing us to stop abruptly behind him. He casually turned around to us, but the look on his face was more than unsettling.
I quickly peered past him and a feeling of horror took over as I realised we were walking towards the security convention’s fingerprinting station.
‘What do we do?’ Winter whispered.
Sharkey looked stumped for a second.
‘Just walk on by as confidently as you can,’ he eventually instructed, while pretending to look for something in his wallet. ‘There’s no turning back for us now. We’re just a school group, remember? Hopefully they won’t pick us out and call us over. If
‘What do we do?’
‘Nothing we can do,’ replied Sharkey. ‘We’ve just gotta do everything we planned and hope we slip through somehow.’
I exhaled loudly and stared through the window at the fast-moving world outside.
‘Come on,’ Winter comforted me, patting my knee like my mum used to. ‘Somehow we’ll get through. I can feel it.’
I turned to her and forced a smile. She was wearing an emerald-green beret and her dark hair tumbled down over her shoulders. I hoped her feeling was right.
‘Do you all have your stories straight?’ Sharkey asked.
‘Absolutely,’ I replied, happy to have something to distract me from the somersaults in my stomach. ‘I’m Matt Marlow, travelling to Ireland with my friends Joshua Stern and Grace Lee, and our history teacher Mr Nelson Sharkey.’
Sharkey nodded, but I could see that even he was nervous. He was used to being the law-abiding good guy, and now he was aiding and abetting a wanted fugitive.
The number of police cars on the street, and helicopters in the sky, grew thicker the closer we came to the airport. Luckily the lane leading to Departures, that the police had taken over for random checking, was full as we cruised past.
Sharkey parked and we all began the nail-biting trek inside. I stopped myself from looking around, but couldn’t control the sweat that had broken out on my forehead. I knew the people on passport control were trained to look for suspicious characters, and if I didn’t control my anxious,darting glances, and do something about the sweating, I’d be discovered.
With Christmas so near, the whole airport was buzzing. I guessed most travellers were going on holidays, maybe joining their families overseas, like Sharkey. They were fussing over luggage labels, chasing kids around, wheeling suitcases that were probably weighed down with presents. I felt like our sombre group was sticking out like a sore thumb.
For me this was the first part of the final obstacle in this year-long quest. I could almost taste victory. I shifted the weight of my backpack . Inside I had warm clothes Boges had lent me for the Irish winter, and beneath them was a smaller zip-lock bag containing the Riddle, the Jewel and our notes. I wasn’t checking my backpack in—nothing was going to separate me from everything I had inside.
‘Just relax, Matt,’ said Winter, who had obviously noticed the state I was in.
‘I’m trying, Grace ,’ I said through gritted teeth.
‘OK,’ Nelson interrupted. ‘We have our stories straight, so let’s check in. Any questions, just refer to me.’
I looked up and noticed that Sharkey had beads of sweat on his brow. He seemed really nervousfor me; his eyes were scanning the international check-in area.
We just had to make it onto the plane.
The four of us had made it through check-in—our fake passports had held up so far—and we were following Sharkey, walking over to the queue for passport control. None of us had said anything to each other since checking in—we were all too tense.
Suddenly Sharkey slowed up, forcing us to stop abruptly behind him. He casually turned around to us, but the look on his face was more than unsettling.
I quickly peered past him and a feeling of horror took over as I realised we were walking towards the security convention’s fingerprinting station.
‘What do we do?’ Winter whispered.
Sharkey looked stumped for a second.
‘Just walk on by as confidently as you can,’ he eventually instructed, while pretending to look for something in his wallet. ‘There’s no turning back for us now. We’re just a school group, remember? Hopefully they won’t pick us out and call us over. If
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