Page 119 of Forsaking All Others

“Shit.”

88

“Viscount, now that we’re down to just nine contestants, several of whom you,” he coughs delicately, “know intimately. Perhaps you won’t find it too difficult to tell us how you’re feeling as this challenge moves along.”

“What do you want me to say, Mr Dott?” I scowl, watching the monitors and realising that Cat looks set to land miles away from where Thorun has just landed.

‘Anything could happen before she gets there. Fucking hell.’

The director flaps his clipboard to gain my attention

“Perhaps, Viscount, I could flash-card names, and you could tell me how you’ll think they’ll do?”

I frown as I watch Sona approach Thorun and help her out of her parachute before taking out a map, the two considering it together.

“Fine, Mr Dott.”

“And… Action!”

The first name on the list is Miranda.

“The Australian is resourceful and not unused to the dry desert heat, given where she comes from. I think she’s going to do well in this contest now that her arm is healed and she’s running at full capacity. Her sense of humour will likely also stand her in good stead. Silke is at a distinct disadvantage because she still has a leg in plaster, but if she concentrates on just collecting keys and making it to the end, she has the capacity to perhaps win. Claire is a bit of a wild card; she clearly knew how to skydive, as did Vasiliki, so those two already have a lead on the others.”

I take a deep breath and consider what to say about the last four. I’d been surprised at how the group had split towards separate helicopters. Some of the alliances seem to be shifting, but I can’t say anything about that because apart from Cat and Thorun, and perhaps Sona, I’m not truly sure who’s likely to work together.

“Cat, Sona and Thorun have worked together in the past. I suspect they’ll do so again. Sitting in separate choppers may have been part of a strategy; Catriona is very clever at game plan. As for the last two competitors, Cherry surprises me every challenge, and Amadea has aligned with her in the past, so I wouldn’t be surprised if they work together.”

“Cut!”

“And who do you think will try to eliminate another competitor tonight, Viscount? Can you expand on their likely strategies?”

“No.”

“Just a few words?”

“No.”

“No need,” Starlen says. “I believe I have all the dirt on who might hold a grudge.”

“Terrific,” the director gushes, “are you ready to start your commentary now?”

“Almost.”

As the new make-up woman touches up his flawless powdered face I turn back to the nine small screens set up on a stand, and frown as Cat’s screen turns black.

“Director!”

He and Starlen turn to me as I point to the monitors.

“Something’s happened to Cat.”

“The Italian?” Starlen sneers. “Let’s not be too concerned, shall we?”

“I beg your pardon?”

He shrugs, and Gerry looks nervously away.

“Mr Dott, Starlen, is there something you’d like to share?”