Protocol 7 at-1 Page 14

  “But-”

  He shook his head tightly and ran his fingers through his hair, gathering himself.

  “No. Watch him. Make sure…”

  Make sure he’s not dead yet, he wanted to say, but he couldn’t bring himself to say it. Instead he just turned away and started running unevenly toward the Range Rover.

  Andrew looked at Hayden’s body on the cold sidewalk next to him. “This is just a bad dream,” he said under his breath. Mere hours ago they’d been talking about embarking on a grand adventure, like some intrepid band of explorers in a Jules Verne novel. And now … now he was exhausted and terrified after carrying an unconscious body along what felt like miles of train track, two hundred feet below the street, while being shot at by…someone. Soldiers, spies, mercenaries, someone. Now he was too tired to even think about the danger that they were really in. All he could do was kneel on the ground next to Hayden and watch Simon approach the car and open the passenger door.

  Andrew’s adrenaline was pumping so hard that he felt like the world around him had slowed down. The street was mostly quiet, save for the distant sound of cars approaching or long passed. The only thing that broke the silence was the sound of the opening door on the Range Rover.

  Hayden could hear footsteps as well, but he had no idea where the noise was coming from. He was still locked in his body, staring blindly at the blurry image of the lowering clouds and wondering if the coming rain would blind him, since he couldn’t even close his eyes. Not at the moment, he told himself. Maybe not ever again.

  The next thing either of them heard clearly was Samantha screaming.

  * * *

  Moments before, Simon had pulled open the passenger door, thrown himself in, and slammed the door behind him. As the interior lights dimmed, he saw Jonathan beside him, dozing against the glass, and almost laughed. “Let’s go, Jonathan,” he said, noticing how dark it was becoming. Even though it was early evening, it was almost black in the car…though he could clearly see Samantha sitting behind Jonathan, beaming at him, delighted to have him back.

  “Thank god,” she said. “I’ve been-”

  Simon ignored her for the moment. “Come on, Jonathan,” he said. “Wake up. Let’s get out of here!”

  Jonathan still didn’t stir. I understand jet lag, Simon thought, but this is ridiculous. He put his hand on his friend’s shoulder and shook him. “Come on, we don’t have time for this, turn the damn car-”

  Jonathan’s slumped forward and twisted as he fell. His head turned and skidded down the window glass.

  It left a thick streak of blood on the glass as it slid across it.

  Samantha was sitting right behind him. She saw the window. Saw the blood streak. And for the first time in the dying light, saw the ruin of flesh and bone at the base of Jonathan Weiss’ neck, where he had been shot at close range.

  Her scream was so loud it nearly made Simon deaf.

  “Oh my god, oh my god,” she shrieked. She popped open the car door and threw herself out, backing away from the car, screaming and screaming. The interior lights clearly showed what had happened. Jonathan’s shoulders and back were drenched in blood, completely invisible until he had fallen forward.

  She had been sitting in a car with a dead man. My god, she thought numbly, I slept in there while he bled to death.

  “Christ, what the…?” Andrew muttered under this breath as he watched Samantha back away from the car.

  Simon froze for an instant-but only an instant. His training-all those years in mixed martial arts, many of them with Jonathan himself-finally paid off. He felt a cold, implacable control clamp down as he examined the wound, then pulled back, and slipped out of the car.

  Andrew stood up when he saw Simon get out, go around the front of the vehicle, and open the driver’s side door. Only now was he aware that something was wrong. He left Hayden’s motionless body and ran to join them.

  He was still twenty steps away when he saw Jonathan’s body fall lifelessly out of its seat and slump into Simon’s arms. He stopped short, unable to believe what he was seeing. Not another one, he thought. Just like Hayden.

  Simon put his arms around his old friend and knew in that instant he was dead. The flesh was sticky with drying blood, and it was cold, cold, and heavy with death. He stood there trembling, Jonathan’s body half-in, half-out of the car.

  Everything was happening so fast. He couldn’t think clearly-not anymore. His home invaded. Samantha attacked. Hayden paralyzed, maybe dead. And now Jonathan. Jonathan. Jonathan, the spy, the hero, the man who couldn’t be stopped, not ever. Jonathan was shot in the head and dead in his-

  Andrew grabbed Simon’s sagging shoulders from behind as the shock of it hit Simon like a lightning bolt. His knees buckled and he started to collapse, but Andrew caught him, held him up. After a silent, steadying moment, they straightened together and pulled Jonathan’s lifeless body from the car, then dragged it back three feet, and loaded it into the back seat, into the place where Samantha had been sitting just moments before.

  As they pushed the door shut a black helicopter, silent and menacing, flew overhead-high and fast at the moment, following the underground route of the subway, looking for them but not seeing.

  Yet, Simon thought numbly. Not seeing yet. They had closed and locked the gateway and the door to the subway entrance before the black-clad soldiers had come round the bend. He didn’t think there was any way they could have known about their escape route; they should’ve continued down the dimly lit tunnel for at least another mile before they realized that Andrew and Simon and their valuable cargo had disappeared. But he couldn’t know that for sure. They could come surging up out of the underground or roaring down the street at any moment.

  Samantha stood far from the Rover, hugging her arms and trying to keep her body from shaking. “What’s happening?” she said in a tiny voice. “What the hell is happening?”

  Simon tried to rub the shock away with the heels of both hands in his eyes. Focus, he ordered himself. Focus. Shouting he said, “Hayden. We have to get Hayden in the car!” With a fighter’s discipline, he pushed himself into the driver’s seat and put his hand on the ignition key. “Get in, Sam,” he said harshly. “Right now!”

  She didn’t move. She just pressed both hands against her mouth and shook her head, crying.

  “Get in, I said! We’ve got to get the fuck out of here!”

  Andrew put a hand on her bare arm and felt her flinch. “Get in the front,” he said quietly. “You don’t have to look at him.” He led her gently but insistently around the car. He opened the door for her and helped her inside. She was still trembling. Then he got in the back seat himself, next to Jonathan’s dead body.

  The car started moving before Andrew was completely in the car. It didn’t matter; Simon only cruised fifty feet forward and stopped next to the motionless body of Hayden, sprawled on the side of the road near the entrance to the underground.

  Andrew jumped out of the car as it stopped just short of Hayden’s body. Samantha turned her head to see what he was doing, then looked back, confused, as Simon exited the car as well. Andrew heard her gasp as he struggled to lift Hayden’s body all by himself.

  “Oh my god, is he dead too?” she said, her voice going higher and louder at the end. Andrew noticed lights from the surrounding apartments had started to snap on; a few pedestrians were slowing to watch them, distracted by the commotion.

  “No!” Simon said sharply. “He’s not! And you have to help him!” Together, the men maneuvered Hayden’s body into the back seat, shoving him unceremoniously to the middle, next to Jonathan’s corpse.

  It’s like a bad dream, Simon thought looking at the grisly tableaux in the back seat.

  He pushed away his despair and forced himself back to the driver’s seat, doing his best to ignore the blood-soaked backrest as he got inside. Andrew climbed into the back, far too close to Hayden’s body, looking just as repulsed as Simon.

  Still trapped in his par
alyzed body, Hayden only gradually became aware of the grotesque scene that was transpiring around him. But as he was manipulated into the back seat of the Rover like an unwieldy corpse, he found that his hearing was not the only sense that was unaffected by the gas; his sense of smell worked perfectly well, too. He knew because it was assaulted by the stink of blood that hung around Jonathan’s body like a cloud. A dead man, he thought frantically. I’m sitting next to a dead man! He tried harder than ever to move his body-any part of it, even a tiny amount-but nothing happened.

  The instant Andrew was back in the car, Simon stamped on the accelerator and the car sped away from the curb. They were away from the entrance, away from the little shop, and through the intersection in seconds.

  Meanwhile, the black helicopter that had passed far overhead was circling back-lower now, looking even more carefully.

  “You think they’re giving up?” Andrew said, craning his neck to watch the chopper slide through the air above them. “Or narrowing the search?”

  “I have no idea,” Simon answered. He gripped the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turned white. He forced himself to keep his speed under the legal limit, matching the other cars in the increasingly busy highway. They can’t know who we are, trying to convince himself. We’re just another vehicle on a crowded road in a crowded town. Just keep it slow. Concealed in the chaos of traffic.

  * * *

  Takara studied her little satellite display. She watched the hysteria from over four hundred yards in a small cavity between two buildings, hidden by the shadows. She had fulfilled her promise to Jonathan. She knew she would find him. Now he was one of her victims. She felt no remorse as she slipped through the shadows and disappeared into the night.

  * * *

  He drove for ten minutes with no real destination in mind; there was a dead man and a paralytic in the back seat, and his other companions were silent and in shock. Finally, he activated the safe phone. He punched the icon Andrew had programmed into the phone as he focused his eyes on the road.

  Ryan answered almost immediately. “Sorry, Simon, there’s just so much to do. I had to reschedule my classes, and all of the family business, and Sabrina-”

  “So you haven’t left yet?”

  “No, but I’m half out the door, I swear-”

  “No. Just stay there.”

  “What? Why?” He sounded absolutely bewildered.

  Simon didn’t have the time or the energy to explain. “Just stay. We’ll come pick you up.”

  “But-”

  “Stay,” he said, tired of playing the game. He disconnected before Ryan could ask any more questions.

  At least now, he thought, they had a destination.

  At that moment, he had no idea he was signing someone’s death warrant.

  OXFORD, ENGLAND

  Ryan's Estate

  Hayden could barely open his eyes, but he knew the worst was over. He could feel a gradual warming sensation; his muscle control was slowly coming back. At first, the interior of the car was a haze of dark colors and blurred textures, but it was making more sense, one small bit at a time. He struggled to gently open his mouth. Speak, he ordered himself. Speak, you idiot.

  The massive iron gate outside Ryan’s estate opened as the Land Rover approached. Simon had been talking-almost shouting-at Ryan over the safe phones for the last ten minutes. They were expected…or at least he hoped so.

  The rain poured down in an unending torrent, but Ryan and Sabrina were standing on the covered porch, waiting for them-and arguing. It was clear even at a distance that things were not going well for either of them. Sabrina had her arms tightly crossed; there was a small case sitting at Ryan’s feet-all that he would need for the trip in one small bag.

  “Let me deal with this,” Simon told the others and reluctantly stepped out of the Rover as it rolled to a stop.

  “Quickly, please,” Andrew said. “We gotta get outta here.”

  Simon walked the thirty feet from vehicle to porch, hunched over in the rain, hating to be there. He heard Sabrina speak as he approached.

  “You’re going,” she said.

  Ryan nodded. “I have to.”

  And you can’t even tell her why, Simon realized, ashamed to be watching the exchange at all. The more you tell her, the more danger she will be in-and you know that.

  “I don’t want you to,” she said simply. Her eyes were huge and brimming with tears.

  “I don’t want it either,” he said, “but I don’t have a choice.”

  “They can’t make you,” she said, casting a hateful glance at Simon, past Ryan’s shoulder, cursing the others with a single look. “They can’t force you to do what you don’t want to-”

  He put up his hand, palm out, pushing to make her stop. “Sabrina,” he said. “Don’t. Please. I have to do this, and I can’t explain why. You’re just going to have to trust me a bit.”

  Her pretty, carefully made mouth fell open at that. “A bit?” she paused. “Trust you a bit?”

  She shook her head as she stared at him. “I can’t,” she said. “I can’t.”

  She turned away and opened the door to the estate without another word. Simon saw her shaking her head-no, no, I can’t-as she stepped inside and closed the door behind her.

  Back in the car, there was a sudden, unexpected shifting in the back seat.

  “Hey,” Hayden grunted from the back seat, sounding slurred but determined. “You got anything to drink in this crate?”

  Samantha turned suddenly in her seat, hysterically relieved to hear him. “Hayden!” she said, holding back tears. “I’m so glad you’re okay!” She reached back and gently placed her hand on his knee.

  He was moving very slowly, struggling to keep his eyes open, muscles twitching as he slowly regained control, grunting with the effort to move his body. Samantha opened the door and called out to Simon.

  “Simon, it’s Hayden!”

  Ryan gaped in surprise when Simon suddenly turned away and sprinted back toward the car. He watched in astonishment as his friend opened the back door and shouted with delight.

  “Hayden! God, I’m so glad you’re okay!”

  Hayden managed to give him a sketchy version of his usual scowl, “So am I,” he growled.

  Then Simon looked past him and saw Jonathan’s body slumped in the seat, covered in blood. “We’ve got to do something about this.”

  Hayden didn’t have to turn around to know what Simon was talking about-not that he could have managed the task quite yet anyway.

  Simon turned abruptly and went back to the porch. The others watched as the two men had a short, clipped conversation-a quick, almost businesslike back-and-forth. Finally Ryan nodded, and the two of them ducked into the rain and approached the car.

  “We’re ready,” Simon said swiftly as they reached the Rover. “Let’s go.”

  * * *

  We need to move, Simon told himself as they cruised out of the iron gates and bounced back onto the road. We need to get out of here. He could feel the black-clad mercenaries out there, looking for them. There wasn’t time for this.

  “What now?” Ryan said, clearly appalled by the smell in the vehicle. He felt detached, somehow numb. He had never even touched a dead body before that day, and now he was staring at Jonathan. He shuddered and wondered if he could ever get the smell of it off his hands.

  “You know the area,” Andrew said from the driver’s seat. “Hell, you own the area. Tell me where we can find a body of water-preferably slightly polluted or worse. We need to get rid of the body.”

  Ryan stared at him. “Are you fucking serious?”

  Andrew glared at him. “Does this seem like a good time to be joking?”

  Ryan swallowed. “No.” He thought about it for a moment and then said, “Turn left at the next street you see. There is a small reservoir-really a pond that most people ‘round here use as a dumping ground. That may work.”

  “Deserted, I hope,” Andrew said. “Wooded or invis
ible from the street would be nice, too.”

  “As it happens, yes it is.”

  “Good.”

  Everyone was silent for a moment while the stormy afternoon grew even darker. Andrew had to turn on the headlights to see the road signs ahead.

  “You may need to pull a few strings,” Simon said as they plunged through the storm. “You’ve got connections everywhere. You can see it already Ryan, we are going to need to get out of here-out of London and to Dad’s estate in Corsica, at least for a day. And it’s going to have to happen fast.”

  Simon had already told him the plan and the unorthodox route he had worked out. They had spoken about alternate ways to travel, and Ryan had charted a route that would take them from the Island of Corsica to Chile and beyond to the southern continent undetected. The route had to be unorthodox. It had to be an atypical system of back roads and unregistered flights that would get them there. At least that’s what Simon and the others hoped.

  “Well,” Ryan said finally. “It’s not as if any of us have a lot of choice, now, is it?”

  Simon turned his head toward him. “No,” he confessed. “Not much.”

  “Look at the bright side,” Hayden said sarcastically, keeping his eyes ahead, listening to the directions from Ryan. “At least it’s a beautiful island, even if it is for one day.”

  Ryan absent-mindedly said, “Turn right. Half a mile, then take the dirt road.” He was running his hands through his hair as he said it, pulling at it, looking entirely distracted. “I just can’t believe it,” he said. “Riding around the countryside with a dead body in the back seat. Jonathan Weiss’ dead body. Someone just walked right up to the car and killed him. Killed-”

  “Wait a minute,” Andrew said. A thought struck him so suddenly he almost hit the brakes. “Wait a second…”

  He thought furiously as he drove the last half-mile. “How did they know where he was?”