Read Hunters: A Trilogy Online
Authors: Paul A. Rice
Ken went over the plan again and Jane had a quick bit of revision with the aerosol spray. They stood and watched as the tiny flecks of electricity flickered across the barn floor like miniature napalm bombs. It was an awful sight, awful but entrancing. Once they had finished, Mike zapped the van, Ken picked up their gear, and together they made their way back across the drive to the lodge.
George contacted them later in the evening with the details of the job. He sent them the final instructions along with the timings and wished them luck. He also asked them a strange question. ‘Would you mind terribly if we asked you to do another job? It is rather an interesting job, and, well, this time you may be away for quite some time,’ he said, staring at them in sincerity. They all agreed, but without spending too much time thinking about the realities of his question – Steven O’Hara was too busy occupying their thoughts at that precise moment.
Seeing their rushed answer, George bade them farewell and left them with a parting comment. ‘Be careful, all of you,’ he said. ‘Jane, you will be fine, my dear. We will all take care of you!’ In their excitement, the trio didn’t see the strange expression that crossed the old man’s face as the screen faded away.
***
It was the next afternoon when they were parked up by the entrance to the disused underpass. Ken and Mike were hidden in the rear of the van, whilst Jane was outside standing by the side door. They had slid the door half open and placed a map on the floor. It wasn’t long before the Scanner warned them of the presence of their target; he was less than one-hundred yards away and heading away from them.
‘He’s heading the wrong way! Mike exclaimed. ‘No, wait… he’s turned around. Jane, get ready, he’s about ten seconds away!’ Lowering his voice, he whispered: ‘Just stay calm and spray him as soon as he looks at you!’
She looked at them through the open door with her eyebrows raised, and with a slow smile, leaned into the van and winked. Ken, noticing how composed she was, said, ‘Don’t worry, Mikey, it looks as though it’s us who are gonna need to stay calm, mate!’ He turned back and watched his wife.
‘Ssshhh… he’s here!’ she said, turning her back towards the direction O’Hara was approaching from. Then, in tune with her disguise, Jane bent forward as if to study the map. They never heard the target reach her, but the blue flashing ‘Target Approaching’ icon now indicated his immediate presence.
O’Hara’s voice filtered through the half-open door.
‘Are you lost, love?’
Ken tensed in readiness to lean forward and grab the man; he knew that once Jane pushed him into the back of the van, they would have to act quickly.
Jane looked up and turned towards the man outside the van. They heard her say something to him and then, after a slight pause, the strong smell of George’s aerosol oozed into their nostrils. There was the noise of a scuffle, followed by a muffled ‘crack’ outside the van. O’Hara cried out and then toppled into the vehicle with Jane clinging to him like a demented limpet. As his shins hit the door sill, he and Jane tipped over and fell headfirst into Ken and Mike’s waiting arms. Jane was holding on for dear life – gasping sharply as she and O’Hara crashed into the rear of the van together.
‘Good girl, well done!’ Ken said, as he grabbed O’Hara and tried to lever him away from his wife’s grasp. ‘Let him go, it’s all good, I have him now!’ She looked up at him and he saw the fear in her eyes. ‘Jane! What’s the matter?’ Ken asked, looking into her face.
Mike grabbed O’Hara and dragged him from under her. ‘We need to get out of here, I’ll drive, you sort Jane out – c’mon, let’s move!’ he said, clambering over the half-bulkhead and falling into the driver’s seat.
Ken reached outside and grabbed O’Hara’s bag, before he slid the side door closed and snapped the lock downwards. As the van began to move, he turned back to Jane. She sat against the small bulkhead and was clasping her side. ‘What’s happened, did he hit you or something, where does it hurt?’ Ken asked. He lifted her fingers away and then looked in horror at the blood seeping down his wife’s hip.
Jane whispered: ‘He shot me… Ken, I think I’ve been shot!’ Her face was a horrible white, making her brown eyes stand out against its ashen background. Blood was spreading across the lower half of her white blouse – it looked like a flower, a bright-red poppy.
Ken’s experience took over automatically. ‘Right, sit still and bring your knees up,’ he ordered. ‘Okay, gently does it, don’t worry about a thing, baby, just let me take a little look!’ He rolled her top upwards and tried to pull the flight suit apart with his fingers so he was able examine the wound. The material had a tiny hole in it, but would not tear. Ken spent about five seconds trying, without success.
‘We gotta get this top off you,’ he said, calmly. ‘Hold on, stay still, you’re gonna be fine.’ He undressed her top half and rolled the suit down from her shoulders before draping the blouse back over them. Jane was already starting to shiver with shock as Ken explored her wound. There was a small hole above her left hip and it was seeping bright red blood onto her waistband. Running his hand around her side, Ken felt the flower of torn flesh where the bullet had exited her back – it lay about half an inch to the outside of her spine.
‘Okay… I’ve found it, don’t worry, it’s only a little hole,’ he lied to her, trying to keep his voice reassuringly calm. Turning to the front, he said, ‘Mike, we need to get some help, I don’t have my med kit with me.’
It wasn’t something they had even thought about. George hadn’t mentioned anything about getting shot. Ken had never considered that he may need a medic pack – he cursed himself for his complete lack of foresight.
The Scanner made a loud buzzing noise and then went blank for a second. George appeared – the picture was so clear that even the hairs on his ears were visible. ‘Take the vehicle to this place,’ he ordered, pointing at the arrow, which had appeared on the screen. ‘Follow that, immediately! Kenneth, I need you to gather your equipment, and make sure that you have the second Spear ready.’
Ken looked at the screen and then back to Jane. ‘And then what?’ he snapped. ‘Jane’s hurt, we need to…’
George cut him short before he was able to finish. ‘Yes, we know,’ he said. ‘Take this vehicle to the destination as shown. Get yourselves, O’Hara, and all of your equipment out. Leave Jane in the van and continue with your mission in the second Spear. We will take care of your wife. Please ensure that you put her suit back on.’
His manner denied any argument and Ken immediately turned back to Jane, she was conscious, but only just. He whispered into her ear: ‘It’s going to be all right, George and the gang are gonna fix you right up. Don’t worry!’
She grasped his hand and closed her eyes. Ken kissed her hand and then looked down at her wound again, the bright blood had stopped flowing and it was now leaking a darker-coloured fluid. He didn’t pause to think about it. He rolled Jane’s suit back over her shoulders and after jiggling the sleeves over her arms, draped the blouse back over her shoulders, before gently laying her flat with knees drawn up.
Steadying himself against the motion of the swaying van, he reached for the case and began doing as George had ordered. Fortunately he didn’t have a lot to do, as within three minutes the van came to a halt.
‘Right… we’re here – I’ll come round the back and help you!’ Mike said. He left the driver’s seat and ran around to the side door, banging on it until the noise jarred Ken into reaching across and undoing the lock.
As he looked out, Ken saw that they were in some kind of park. Tall beech trees overhung the van and he saw the corner of an old wooden hut in the distance. He handed Mike the second Spear and its zapper, Mike ran a short distance before placing the vehicle on the grass, fumbling with the fob before he managed to zap it. With the Spear doing its magic act behind him, he turned back to help Ken again. They lifted O’Hara out of the van and dumped him across the back seats of the new Spear. His eyes were wide open and there was a tiny fleck of green saliva stuck to his bottom lip. There was also a slight damp patch in his crotch, just at the top of his left thigh. Ken felt like beating his face in.
They placed their victim’s bag on the floor next to him and then transferred their own gear into the rear of the vehicle. Ken ran back to the van and sat with Jane, who was now unconscious. Mike did a quick check to make sure he had everything. Nearly forgetting, he leant into the front of the van and ejected the information disc. As he did so, the scanner started flashing again.
‘Standby, incoming personnel – wait!’
Then the air began to thicken.
Ken shouted from the rear: ‘What the hell is going on? I need to move her now, Mike!’ His voice cracked with anxiety.
Mike said, ‘Wait, they’re sending someone, just wait, Kenny!’
The air in the van wobbled, they saw it distort and then shimmer. Ken remembered looking into one of those strange mirrors at the fairground. As they watched in amazement, the men heard a familiar ripping sound. Out of nowhere, a man appeared, he simply plopped into the back of the van – it was like watching ice-cream drip from the bottom of a soggy cone, just before it collapses altogether and drops the whole lot into your lap. The man simply dripped into their world. And then, with a rush, he was there amongst them.
‘Oh, dearie me, that particular method of travel is no damned good, no damned good at all, I tell you!’ he complained, white teeth gleaming against his ebony skin. The man raised a chubby hand to his temple and repeated the ‘Dearie me!’ Focusing upon Ken’s face, he said, ‘Pleased to meetcha, Kenneth, I’m Melias Sturman – most people call me ‘Doc’.’
Without waiting for a reply, he crawled up towards Jane and took hold of her hand. Taking a metal object from his pocket, he waved it over Jane’s stomach and then held it against her forehead. A dim pulse of light came from the front of the object; it appeared to be scanning her body. After a slight pause, a set of numbers flashed on the rear of the device – some of them were in red. Within seconds, Melias had injected Jane with another object, a long, shiny object, which he withdrew from the pouch on his belt. It hissed as he held the thing against her arm. Jane immediately began to regain some colour to her cheeks, and, much to Ken’s relief, she also started to breathe more easily.
Turning to his stunned audience, Melias said, ‘This young lady is in dire need of some attention, if you will excuse us, but I’m afraid we have to go. I believe you two gentlemen have a mission to complete. I am so terribly sorry about the introduction…’ He turned to Mike, said it was good to see him again and hoped they may meet later. ‘Don’t worry about Jane, my friends, she will be in the best of care, I promise you,’ he said, and then almost pushed Ken out of the van.
Taking the hint, Mike also stepped out from the cab. The side door slid shut, and as the two men stood looking on with jaws open wide, Melias did the reverse of his amazing appearance trick. With a liquid whisper, he disappeared right before their eyes, only this time taking the van, and Jane, with him.
As their departing gurgle faded, Ken turned to Mike, saying: ‘Now I’ve seen every-bloody-thing! God, I hope she’s gonna be all right! Who the fuck was that guy, how do you know him?’
His friend said, ‘Let’s just say that it’s a long story. C’mon…we’d best go and drop this guy at the warehouse, you need to keep low, look at you – you’re covered in blood!’ Mike pointed at Ken’s arms and legs.
Glancing down at himself, Ken was surprised by the amount of blood staining his shirt and jeans. ‘Shit, that’s not good… I couldn’t see properly when I was in the back of the van – she’s bleeding like crazy!’ He turned as if to get back in the van, a van that was no longer there, and then stopped. After a few seconds, Ken turned around and said, ‘Right, I’m good. She’ll be fine, let’s just get this cretin to his destination, shall we?’
‘Are you okay, Kenny?’ Mike asked, looking at him in concern. Ken’s ability to cope with bad situations was the one thing about his friend that Mike had always admired most of all; he had never seen Ken lose his cool, not once. But this was a slightly different set of circumstances.
Ken stared at him. ‘Yeah, I’m good,’ he whispered, ‘what the hell was I gonna do anyway? Rock up at casualty and tell ‘em that the guy we kidnapped has just shot my wife – fucking hell, what a bloody mess!’ He turned back to the Spear and slid into the passenger side.
Mike climbed in the driver’s seat and started the engine. Caressing the display button, he waited for a second and then inserted the disc. As soon as the data streamed onto the screen, he spun the wheel and followed the Navigator’s commands.
Less than ten minutes later they arrived at their destination. The Scanner showed there to be four life-forms present, three inside the warehouse and one on the outside. Parked in the corner, almost out of sight, they saw the bonnet of a black, Jaguar saloon. Zooming in, Mike was able to show them a clear view of the driver as he sat dozing behind the steering wheel.
‘Right, just cruise past and get to that observation spot we picked the other day,’ Ken said, looking over the seat at O’Hara. The man seemed to be having some really bad dreams, his hands were clenching and unclenching and he kept grinding his teeth. Ken’s voice was filled with urgency. ‘This guy is gonna wake up in a minute, let’s get him out of the car!’ he said.
Mike pulled up near their chosen spot and then reversed into it. The bushes and the rubbish concealed them as he manoeuvred into his final position overlooking the warehouse. ‘Okay, that’s it, there’s nobody on the Scanner – get him out,’ he said. ‘Do you need a hand?’ Ken declined, so Mike spent some time in adjusting the controls until he had the best view of the warehouse as was possible.
Ken climbed out and opened the passenger door. He pulled O’Hara’s scrawny frame out by the armpits and then continued to drag him around the bushes to their front. Taking the man about twenty yards away, he dumped him uncaringly onto the soft verge before making his way back to the Spear to collect the black holdall. He had only just placed it by the man’s side when O’Hara started to stir. Hearing the gibberish the man began to emit, Ken quickly turned and ran back to the Spear. Mike was checking the back seat to make sure nothing had fallen out of their victim’s pockets.