Albert Huxley heard the call from the deck and got up from the leather sofa inside the yacht’s main lounge. He couldn’t abide hot weather and had opted to stay inside for as much of this trip as he could. After all, he didn’t need to do anything unless he got the nod from the captain.
Before he could step into the baking heat outside, he met the captain who was making his way back to the bridge. ‘Huxley,’ the captain began, ‘I’ve just had a call from your man. We’re moving. He said when we get there, you need to fire up the Cloudbuster. Do you know what that means?’
‘Of course,’ Huxley said. ‘How long until we reach our destination?’
‘Just over half an hour. We need to be there by quarter past.’
Huxley checked his watch. ‘That gives me plenty of time. You’d better get going. Leave the rest to me.’
Huxley had heard Danny calling his name the whole time he’d been speaking to the captain. Danny shouted over to him as soon as he stepped onto the deck.
‘Yo, Huxley. Why is that speedboat taking my bitches back to Spain?’
‘I’m very sorry, Mr Farrell,’ Huxley said, addressing the rapper with the title that deeply annoyed him, ‘something else has come up. A priority.’
‘A motherfucking priority? We’re here to make my video. What’s more important than that?’ Huxley ignored him and examined the wooden crate sitting on the deck. ‘And another thing,’ Danny continued, ‘what’s the deal with this dirty-ass crate? You better get that moved before we start filming.’
Huxley ignored Danny again, then reached round the back of the crate and picked up a crowbar. ‘What you gonna do with that, huh?’ Danny exclaimed. Huxley shot a stare in Danny’s direction like he wanted to bury the end of the crowbar in the rapper’s head, but turned round and started to loosen the crate’s front panel. The crate was taller than Huxley and while he managed to remove the nails lower down, he struggled to the get the last two free at the top.
Danny laughed. ‘Gimme that damn thing, short-ass. In case you forgot, I’m a long legged mack daddy!’ Huxley handed the crowbar over and the rapper feinted as if he intended to hit Huxley with it. The man in the sharp suit flinched and Danny laughed even more as he removed the last two nails. ‘Ha ha ha, don’t worry white boy, I won’t hurt you. So what you got in this box?’ The last nail came free and the front panel crashed to the deck.
‘Holy shit, Huxley,’ Danny said when he saw the contents of the crate, ‘what the fuck is that?’
It was the weirdest-looking contraption Danny had ever seen. A rectangular metal frame almost six feet high held a hinged panel on the top, which had six hollow metal tubes attached to it, all five feet long. The hinged section was folded over and the tubes ran down the front of the rectangular frame towards the ground. At the top of the frame, the ends of the tubes were connected to hoses that ran back down the back of the frame into a two-foot square metal box at the base, with a hand crank lever and a big red button on top. A long rubber tube was connected to the base, with the other end coiled round the frame. The whole contraption was mounted on castors and a number of ropes hung from it for operation of the hinged section and to allow it to be dragged around.
‘It’s called a Cloudbuster. Help me get it onto the deck,’ Huxley said.
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