Scion (13 page)

Either he’d been set up
and there was a leak or it was something else entirely. Whatever it was, he couldn’t do anything about it for the next hour and with Kelly quiet at last he began to doze.

“What the fuck was that?” shouted Harris, swerving the car onto the hard shoulder of the motorway.

Scott awoke the moment his body slid across the seat into Kelly’s; his eyes alert and trying to see what the problem was. It was his ears however that picked up the threat; the whump of the helicopters rotor blades evident through the roof of the car.

“A helicopter just appeared from nowhere and flew straight at us,” explained
Kelly, looking out of the window to try and see where it had gone.

“It missed us by fucking inches,” screamed Harris from the driver
’s seat, having pulled them back onto the main carriageway. He too was desperately searching the sky for the chopper.

Scott
looked out the back window and spotted the little chopper. It had swooped over their heads and was now doing a tight turn to come back at them. Scott recognised it instantly, a small chopper with two M134 Gatling guns and two sets of rocket pods. It was the very agile and extremely deadly AH-6J attack helicopter, a favourite of the US Army special forces and affectionately, if it was on your side, referred to as ‘little bird’.

The first pass had obviously been a confirmation fly
-by. Scott knew the second pass would not be so friendly. The Gatling guns were already spinning, a pre-cursor to their unleashing a deadly rain of 7.62mm projectiles at over 6,000 rounds per minute that would tear through the car like a hot knife through butter.

“Oh shit!” exclaimed
Scott. “They’re behind us, we need to get off this road NOW!”

“It’s five miles to the next exit!” re
plied Harris his voice breaking. He could see the small chopper in the side mirrors.

“Sod the exit just get off the road!” shouted
Scott.

At th
at moment all conversation ended. The roar of the miniguns exploded into their ears as the chopper swooped towards them, the car behind them disappeared in a shroud of small explosions as the bullets tore through it before continuing on their relentless march towards them, gaining ground with every bullet.

“Put your foot down!” screamed
Kelly watching the road behind them being ripped apart.

“It’s on the floor, already!” shouted Harris fully aware of the bullets tearing towards them.

The car lurched as the first 7.62mm projectile destroyed the rear bumper, the next less than one hundredth of a second later disposed of the registration plate.

“We’re dead,” screamed
Kelly as the rear window exploded.

***

Clark could only think that Walker was going mad but having worked for the man for twenty five years, he knew one certainty, with Walker nothing was ever as it seemed.

“Can
you stop here please Karl,” said Clark.

“What,
on the hard shoulder?” asked a rather mystified Karl.

“Please.”

As the car slowed and pulled to a stop, Clark stretched his seat belt as far as it would go. He then quickly placed it over Karl’s head and before Karl knew what was happening, he was fighting for his life.

“Rosie
, do you mind?” asked a huffing Clark, the younger and stronger Karl was proving a reluctant corpse.

Rosie not knowing why
Clark was doing what he was doing but knowing he was paying for her services, reached forward and delivered a sharp and deadly karate style blow to Karl’s throat. His fight ended as his body slumped forward.

Clark
knew they wouldn’t have long, stopping on the hard shoulder would mean a police response. He climbed into the front of the car and pushed the dead weight into the passenger seat before quickly pulling away. They had stopped for less than two minutes and thanks to the blacked out windows in the car, had elicited no response from passing traffic.

“What’s happening?” asked Rosie as they pulled away.

“Slight change of plan. Will that be a problem?” asked Clark staring into her eyes.

“As long as I get paid
, I don’t care. I’m freelance,” she replied coldly.

“Excellent
. Can you climb in the back and see what sort of equipment we have?”

As Rosie climbed into the boot area, Karl’s phone buzzed, Clark didn’t hesitate to answer it.

“Hello,” he said gruffly.

“Base here. We have a problem your passengers are no longer welcome. I repeat your passengers are no longer welcome.”

“Understood
,” replied Clark.

Clark
hung up the phone, his temper flaring. Walker was right, they were marked men. Both he and Walker had devoted their lives only to be written off without a thought or a thank you. The fuckers would pay.

“Few MP5’s and Sig Sauers and a
sniper rifle,” shouted Rosie from the boot.

Clark
didn’t respond, he just pushed his foot to the floor and watched as the time to the target reduced. With only two minutes to go, he spotted the helicopter. The small gunship sped menacingly ahead disappearing quickly out of view. He pressed his foot down harder but with nowhere to go, nothing changed. He wasn’t going to make it. He was still over two miles away although they were closing at the equivalent of over 240 mph, less than 30 seconds away. But Clark knew a gunship wouldn’t take that long, it would be over almost before it started.

Clark
watched the screen and without warning slammed on the brakes and screamed at Rosie.

“Sniper rifle!”

As the car skidded to a stop, Rosie struggled to pull the rifle out of its holder. Clark was at the boot of the Range Rover almost instantly, grabbing the half prepared rifle from Rosie’s hands. He slammed in the magazine and ran up the small incline onto the bridge that he had spotted on the map. As he reached the railing, he could already hear the clack clack clack of the minigun. Hoping he wasn’t too late he put the rifle to his shoulder and looked through the scope, magnifying his view ten fold. They were still nearly half a mile away as he took aim and pressed down on the trigger.

Chapter 20

Within thirty minutes
, the house was unrecognisable. Helicopters littered the front yard while highly armed personnel patrolled and scoured every inch of the property. A clean up crew had already been and gone, assuring no investigation would be necessary into the killing of the sniper and his spotter. As far as anyone was concerned they had simply ceased to exist.

Ashley’s call to her boss had ensured a
rapid and overwhelming response. The Defence Intelligence Agency did not take kindly to its agents being kidnapped. Ashley’s direct boss was the head of the Strategic Support Branch, a highly secretive and clandestine branch within the already mysterious DIA. Its remit was wide ranging, protecting the national security of the USA with negligible limitations unlike the Central Intelligence Agency which, after years of scandal, had severe restrictions over what it could and could not do. The SSB also had the ability to operate domestically and internationally and was America’s front line defence. As such, it had within its employ some of the hardest, brightest and most ruthless individuals operating beyond the bounds of any legal or governmental control. Whatever needed to be done, the SSB would deliver. Its position within the defence community ensured that it had unrestricted access to its sister defence agency, the all seeing, all hearing NSA and first option on any military staff. In other words, only the best of the best were ever offered positions within the SSB.

Ashley’s entry to the Naval Academy had immediately caught the attention of the DIA’
s recruiters. It wasn’t that often a high flying Harvard student quit their course to join the services. Her achievements throughout her time at the Academy ensured the attention turned to action and on the day of her graduation, Ensign Ashley Jones received a request to join the Superintendent of the Naval Academy for coffee. On arrival at his office, Ashley was shown in only to find that the Vice Admiral was not present, but replaced by a man dressed in a civilian suit introducing himself as Brigadier General Robert T. Jackson, (retired) Head of the SSB. He had explained their role and how he felt she could fit in. Without a moment’s hesitation, Ensign Ashley Jones accepted the job and unknown to her, jumped two pay grades instantly and left the room a full lieutenant.

News of the new appointee spread like wildfire throughout the SSB
. There was no one who didn’t know the wealth of her parents, her high school, university and Academy scores nor her spending habits or looks. Entry to the SSB straight from Academy was unheard of. All of the current staff had had to earn their right to be there and as such, Ashley’s appointment had not been well received, particularly as daddy had probably called in a few favours for his little darling. Only one thing stopped them trying to get rid of her from day one, the kitty for the first to bed her was touching a $1,000.

Jackson knew his department inside out and knew how the men felt and what their objective was
. He could have warned Ashley but felt it would do her no favours. She was entering a world where if you didn’t stand up and be counted, you’d die. Ashley had felt the tension the second she had walked into the SSB area of Bolling Air Force Base, the home of the DIA. Eyes lingered heavily while smiles were few and far between. It was obvious that she was not a welcome addition to the team.

Ashley had always been a popular girl. Despite her wealth and looks, she was an extremely likeable person. Her warmness and sincerity were genuine. In less than two days, she had broken down the hardness of her new colleagues and within a week, the kitty for the first shag had been quietly redistributed. The only thing that was certain from that point on was that if anyone fucked with Ashley, they fucked with the whole of the SSB.

Ashley’s call to the SSB operations desk had resulted in the calling out of two fast response teams,
each comprising of six ex-special forces operatives, highly skilled in counter terrorist and hostage rescue situations. Within ten minutes, two H-76 Eagles, the military variants of the Sikorsky S-76 with their response teams were airborne and on their way to secure Ashley’s location.

Jackson ar
rived forty minutes after Ashley’s call and found her sitting in the lounge.

Ashley immediately stood to attention and saluted Jackson as he entered the room.

“Sir,” she said as she snapped her hand to her temple.

“Jones, seems you’ve caused a bit of a stir?” replied Jackson returning her salute.

“Sir, yes Sir.”

“
So, what the hell does Darius think he’s doing?” asked Jackson taking the seat next to Ashley and instructing her to sit back down.

Ashley immediately felt guilty, she had not reported her leaving The Palace and subsequent plans to visit London.

“Well actually I don’t believe this has anything to do with Darius or his operation.”

Jackson looked at her
quizzically, mentor to protégé and immediately understood something else was going on.

“I think you better explain
,” he said quietly, dismissing with a wave Ashley’s guardian angels from the room.

Ashley explained how she had been called to
Darius’ office and assumed her cover was blown. However, it appeared that all Darius knew was that she wasn’t a prostitute and it seemed he had no idea the DIA were onto his arms dealings. She explained how, as he tried to kill her, she had recognised a young man on the TV in England who was being arrested and with whom she had lost contact. After escaping from Darius, she had made contact with the police station to find out how he was. She explained that they would not give her information over the phone and as a result, had decided to make a quick trip to England to check on him. She apologised but explained that it really was a family emergency and had every intention of calling him as soon as she had landed.

“So who is he?”

“Just a family friend.”

“Must be a
very good friend,” mused Jackson, looking directly at Ashley.

“Yes
,” she replied nervously hoping he didn’t pry any further. The less he asked, the less she’d have to lie. She couldn’t tell him the truth, at least not until she knew for certain.

“So how did you end up here?”

Ashley explained the killings at the mall, her abduction and the questioning that related to her friend and their use of her cover name Rosie.

“
Any idea who your friend may have upset?”

“No,”
lied Ashley. She didn’t even know him but she couldn’t tell Jackson that.

“Any idea how they tracked you to the mall?”

“Absolutely none, nobody knew I was going there and I definitely wasn’t followed.”

“And you say they knew exactly what you said on the phone call to England
?”

“Yes, word for word, like they had a transcript of the call.”