STRIKE MATRIX
______________
The Shatterhand Code Part 2
Aiden L Bailey
COPYRIGHT
Strike Matrix © 2019 David Conyers
The Trigger Man © 2019 David Conyers
All Rights Reserved
All characters, events, companies and organizations portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, or companies or organizations, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, by photocopying, recording or otherwise, without express permission of the author.
Cover images purchased via Can Stock Photos.
Proof editing by Kronos Ananthsimha (https://kronosananthsimha.com/), Bodo Pfündl, Andrew Warren, Pamela Long, Roxy Long and Terrill Carpenter.
Special thanks to Andrew Warren, David Kernot, Samuel Carver, Bodo Pfündl, Kate Knapp, Kronos Ananthsimha, Terrill Carpenter, Mandy Walken Brown, Linda Nieuwenhoven, Don Shetterly, Simon Leonard and most of all, my amazing wife Suzanne and daughter Alyssa.
www.aidenlbailey.com
For my very good friend, Stephen Fitzgerald (1964-2016)
I miss you mate
AUTHOR’S NOTE
Stirke Matrix is the second part of a two-novel series, the first being Threat Intelligence (previously published as The Benevolent Deception). I highly recommend you read them in order.
CONTENTS
Copyright
Author’s Note
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
The Trigger Man
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Thank You!
Also by Aiden L Bailey
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Aiden L Bailey Bio
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CHAPTER 1
Ratnagiri, Maharashtra, India
“Were those police officers, those men that boarded at that last station?” Casey Irvine raced through her words as she looked from the train window to her protector, Simon Ashcroft. The five Indian policemen in their khaki uniforms and batons had run, not walked, onto the last carriage, boarding in the final seconds before the interstate train pulled away from the station. With a worry that seemed to rise from the pit of her stomach, Casey knew they were searching for her. And she knew their intentions were not friendly.
Simon’s expression turned grim. She had shared the cramped sleeper compartment with her protector, and lover, for the last eight hours and was concerned he looked as ashen-faced as she felt. “We can’t hang around here and find out,” he said.
Simon’s confidence was encouraging. He had made a career as a field intelligence officer. He would know how to deal with the policemen.
Simon pulled her from their sleeper compartment and together they entered the humid passageway. Confirming no one followed them, they walked toward the front of the train. What they could see of the terrain outside through the passage windows was forested hills blanketed by a light mist and falling rain. Casey watched a stunning waterfall cascading from lush flora-clad cliffs, then a minute later, they passed rectangular rice fields. But the peaceful scenery did not match her inner dialogue, as she realized that they were running out of passage to escape through. In time they would reach the engine carriage, and so would their pursuers.
“Too much of a coincidence?”
“Yes!” Simon exclaimed. He was not slowing his pace. “We have to assume they’re after us.”
She felt encouraged that he said ‘us’, and not ‘her’.
As they moved, she rummaged through their only backpack searching for their scant fourteen thousand rupees. The money was the equivalent to two hundred U.S. dollars. The cash was sufficient under ordinary circumstances, but nothing about their situation resembled normalcy.
They had no credit cards, ATM cards or usable passports because their enemy could track them. With all of India’s military, police and intelligence services hunting them across the subcontinent, fourteen thousand rupees wouldn’t get them far.
She passed half the money to Simon. “Just in case, you know…”
He took it, his smile contradicting his sad eyes. “I don’t plan on us separating again.”
“Neither do I, but you never know.”
Simon took the backpack. They picked up the pace. Other passengers shot dirty looks at them as they pushed past. When they were alone again, Simon withdrew two shiny new 9mm pistols from the pack. He passed one to Casey. “Just in case…”
She took it, felt its weight in her hand.
He barely looked at his. Experienced with instruments of death, he slipped it into the small of his back tucking it under his belt. Casey followed his lead.
“When will this end?” Casey stumbled, squeezing her hands tight into fists with a misplaced hope of relieving her tension. She hadn’t felt normal for three weeks. Constant anxiety was a common feature of her days since teaming with Simon when he saved her from wildlife poachers intent on murdering her in the bushlands of Kenya. That bloody encounter progressed to a shootout with the Kenyan police, then a gun battle with the Kenyan military and a similar encounter with the Indian Navy. It wasn’t Simon’s fault the world had turned against her. He was doing a great job of keeping her alive even if he had so far only kept their pursuers a few steps behind.
“It ends when we find your parents,” Simon grunted, “and they explain what the hell is going on!”
His eyes darkened. He looked tired.
She bit her tongue, said nothing and half-jogged to keep up with Simon’s brisk pace. Fear was exhausting. This ongoing, life threatening pursuit was draining. Arguing served no purpose in their current predicament. Their pressing concern was the police checking every sleeper compartment and toilet behind them, catching up.
“We will, Simon. I know my parents are in Mumbai.”
This wasn’t strictly true. It was nothing more than a hunch on her behalf that her mother and father
would hide in India’s economic capital. The train was scheduled to reach Mumbai late afternoon, and she was keen to begin their search for her family and an explanation why the world had turned against her. She’d looked forward to that moment, not only to reunite with the family she loved, but because the answers would bring security and safety. Now it looked like they would not make it.
“Still eight hours away,” Simon grumbled. He grabbed her hand, pulling her forward and increasing his pace. “I’m sorry, Casey… I’m like you… I’ve had enough.”
Her brave smile lost its power as she remembered that Simon had young children at home in Sydney. He would worry about them more than he worried about her. She asked herself how that made her feel.
“Simon, if we get separated, let’s meet at a hotel in Mumbai. You know…”
“Sure. Good plan.”
“You keep your cash and train ticket. I’ll keep mine. They allow multiple stops.”
She knew from earlier conversations Simon had lived and worked in Mumbai for a time, during his career as an intelligence officer with ASIS, the Australian Secret Intelligence Service. He was proficient in his tradecraft, useful skills for surviving in hostile territories which he had been teaching her this last fortnight. She was glad. She would soon need to use those skills again.
“Pankot Palace Hotel, Mahim, Mumbai, midday every day. It’s small, discrete and they accept cash. Just in case.”
“Yes, just in case.”
They had crossed between many carriages, feeling the breeze, the light rain and the humidity when they passed from one sleeper compartment to the next. On a straight extension of the track now, the train moved fast, perhaps a hundred kilometers per hour. In her madder moments she considered jumping, but in this rugged terrain that course of action could only result in their deaths.
Leaving the first-class carriages, they entered the crowded second-class sleeper coaches. Passengers were more prevalent here. Beds were like shelves, with no privacy and stacked two high. Casey smelled perspiration, cigarette smoke and spiced curries. Single men or families looked up at Casey and Simon as they passed, or ignored them depending on their mood and interest. The passages were too narrow to slip alongside commuters coming the other way.
They passed through several more second-class carriages. They were all the same. All crowded. The locomotive was not far ahead.
“Nowhere to hide!” Simon exclaimed.
“Do we get off? We might have to.”
Although they carried handguns, she feared a gun fight. They were just as likely to get themselves killed or shoot innocent bystanders as they were to scare-off their pursuers. Plus, the police were only following orders. They weren’t bad people. They were duped into believing she and Simon were dangerous terrorists.
“Doesn’t look like we’re stopping soon, Casey. Let’s see if we can double back.”
“Walk straight into them? Are you crazy?”
He grinned. “I have an idea.”
“I bet you do.”
He turned back the way they had come, opened the door then slammed it shut.
“They’re here?” she cried.
“Yep!” His eyes motioned upwards. “Only one option.”
“The roof? No way.”
“They do it all the time, in India.”
“Oh no they don’t!” She peered through a tiny window. They were passing through a steep cutting in the hills. Wire netting reaching as high as she could see prevented the crumbling rocks from falling on the passing trains. All she could think about was that there seemed no easy means to jump from the rattling carriages.
They moved again. Once between carriages, he pushed her up the tiny ladder, then followed behind. Soon she was standing on the roof, tense and trembling. She shook her head as her eyes grew wide. A slip, a misplaced step, or a strong gust of wind and she’d be over the side. Every day with Simon seemed reckless, risking her life.
She turned toward the front of the train.
“Simon!” she screamed.
Just in time, he looked too, and they both ducked. A tunnel loomed and was upon them in seconds. Then darkness consumed them.
Casey lay flat and still, unsure in her terror just how close the tunnel roof might be. Trembling she counted, “One thousand and one… One thousand and two… One thousand and three…” She reached one thousand and forty before they sped out the other side.
She looked up. Simon was nearby. He felt at the small of his back for his handgun that was no longer there.
They were up high again, at least ten meters above the rice fields on a viaduct. Simon stood, dusting himself off. They glanced toward the direction of travel. They saw no tunnels.
“I lost my weapon.”
“Take mine.”
He shook his head. “No, you need it more than I do.”
Casey nodded. Not in the mood to argue she tucked the handgun back into her belt. “So, we head towards the end of the train?” she yelled over the noise of clanking wheels and fast winds.
“Yes. Exactly.”
It was as good a plan as any, doubling back. They might throw the police off their tail. Casey moved as fast as she dared, taking the lead. The train rocked, threatening her balance with every step. Soon the next carriage loomed, separated by a meter of space.
Before she lost her courage, she jumped.
Her landing was awkward. She almost tumbled. Only her momentum kept her upright. Her stomach turned and her heart leaped into her mouth.
She glanced back, disoriented. The color drained from Simon’s face. He said nothing as he leaped after her, landing confidently. “Keep moving!” he ordered. She had expected a berating for recklessness, not an encouragement to move her forward.
They jumped three more carriages. She forgot her fear, and each leap became easier. Maybe they could outsmart the police with this overhead tactic until they reached the next station where they could slip off unseen.
While she waited for Simon to catch up to her, Casey looked around, absorbing the changing scenery. Hills covered in thick forests zipped by. Some trees were close enough to touch. Maybe close enough to grab. But the idea terrified her, as she imagined falling at speed and breaking her legs, or rolling under the moving carriages.
She sensed the train slowing, then noticed a sharp bend in the track ahead.
She looked back to see how Simon was traveling.
He was not far behind.
So were three police officers.
“Simon!” she shouted again, pointing at the threat.
Simon turned.
Gunshots rang out.
He dropped and made himself as small as possible.
Numb with fear, she froze, horrified that she couldn’t seem to move.
The officers ran at them. Caps disappeared with the wind. Soon only a single carriage separated them from their pursuers.
“Casey!” Simon bellowed. “Get down or shoot over their heads!”
She willed her body to respond, but the numb shock in her body was spreading into her mind.
She watched as Simon flung their backpack at the approaching officers. He knocked one officer over. He rolled along the roof but grabbed at a railing and remained on the train. The bag disappeared into the green foliage. All their food and changes of clothes lost in an instance.
Two other officers jumped onto their carriage, raising their handguns.
Then, for no reason she could understand, Casey snapped from her stupor. She pulled the handgun from her belt and fired off round after round until there were no bullets left. She hit no one as she hoped, but her actions caused the officers, and Simon, to duck for a good long while.
The police clambered to their feet.
With no options left, Simon ran at them.
One officer fired.
The shot went wide.
Simon wrestled with the first officer, securing him in a headlock. He spun him round so the others would have to shoot their coworker if they wanted to take d
own Simon or Casey.
She could only watch in disbelief, not sure what to do and not understanding why someone hadn’t died yet. Their predicament was dangerous and foolish. Nothing like she would have ever imagined herself doing three weeks earlier when her life had been normal and boring. Again, her mind played grotesque images of a fatal fall onto jagged rocks below.
“Casey!”
She couldn’t duck past Simon to fight at his side without risk of being knocked from the train.
The carriages raced onto another viaduct. As they straightened the locomotive gathered speed. Soon they were up high, above a banana plantation. A wide river appeared, its brown muddy waters lapping its way west towards the Arabian Sea.
Casey noticed two more police officers climbing up from the front of the train, blocking their path forward, boxing them in. They too raised their weapons.
They were out of options.
“Simon! We need to jump!”
“Jump?”
The officer wrestling Simon was winning the battle of brute strength. Simon threw him down, smacking the man’s head on the metal roof.
“Are you crazy?”
No, she wasn’t crazy. They were out of options. Police on both sides had a free line of sight.
As she feared, they shot again, regardless of the risks of hitting their own people.
Bullets flew everywhere. It was only a matter of time before one found its mark.
The river was below. Ten, maybe a twelve-meter fall.
The train wasn’t moving that fast — yet.
“Simon! Jump!”
She ran, propelling herself into the air.
And suddenly she was falling, terrified at what she had done. Her legs and arms spun, like she was trying to sprint and fly at the same time.
The water hit hard and sudden.
The impact felt explosive, and she surrendered her consciousness to the murky water.
CHAPTER 2
Strike Matrix Page 1
