Winds of Change (Empires Lost Book 2)

by Charles S. Jackson

  Lloyd and Langdale had arrived by that stage, bringing their vehicle to a halt close to the point where the railway line and the road merged into one for the trip across the single lane bridge. They both piled out, weapons ready, and took up positions of cover on the opposite side of the bridge as the driver ducked down behind the Land Rover itself, pistol in hand.

  “You come any closer, I’ll kill her!” Eddie howled, clutching the struggling girl tightly to him as a human shield and pressing the muzzle of his revolver to the side of her head. “Don’t even think about trying anything!” They stood close to the central lifting section of the bridge roughly forty or so metres from Thorne’s position, and Eddie had backed into the iron framework to afford himself a little extra cover.

  “You hurt her and you’ll be dead before you take another breath!” Thorne shouted back, panting heavily and feeling the stress of the situation. “Give up now and I guarantee you you’ll live,” he lied outright, adding under his breath: “…right up until they hang your sorry ass…!”

  “You think I’m stupid?” Eddie shot back immediately with a coarse laugh. “They’re gonna hang me if they catch me… sayin’ I did all sorts o’ shit…”

  “What, like murdering Gambon, the Morris women and those three others in Melbourne too, ya prick…?” Thorne growled softly, thinking better of yelling that sentiment back in return.

  “You all right…?” Evan called softly from across the tracks, M2 rifle in hand.

  “He’s killed Gambon and I think it might be Maude Morris lying dead back at the house, so I figure he’s done her too,” Thorne hissed angrily. “Driver copped it as we pulled up… I was the ‘lucky’ one, I guess…”

  Evan gave Thorne a second glance over that, not comfortable with the tone in which that had been said but deciding to give the remark due consideration at a later date.

  “Whaddya wanna do?” He asked eventually.

  “Not much we can do while he’s got the girl – I dunno about you, but I sure as hell ain’t a good enough shot to take him clean without risking her too…”

  “No bet…” Lloyd agreed, shaking his head.

  “Whaddya want, Leonski…?” Thorne shouted eventually, fighting his own displeasure at being forced to deal with the killer.

  The question caught Eddie by surprise – he hadn’t really expected them to negotiate – and it took him a moment or two before he was able to reply.

  “One o’ ya’s gonna bring that jeep up here,” he began, his confidence building as he formed the plan in his own mind. “You’re gonna lose your guns first and drive it up to me. We’ll get in and you’re gonna take me across the other side of the bridge.”

  “What then…?”

  “None ‘o yer Goddamned business…!” Leonski snarled back. “You do what I asked ya and I’ll let you and the girl go on the other side… Try anythin’ and I’ll kill ya both!”

  “You do know he’s lying,” Lloyd called out softly, stating the absolute obvious.

  “Of course he’s fuckin’ lying,” Thorne shot back with frustration, “but what other option do we have right now? Get onto Alec and tell him to get a chopper or some kind of aircraft out here on the double… we’ll never track him from down here if he gets free and takes off into the bush.” He safed the rifle and carefully laid it on the ground by the tracks, removing his pistol from its holster and placing it right beside.

  “You are not driving that Rover up there…!” Lloyd snapped harshly with as much official authority as he could muster.

  “I bloody-well am…” Thorne shot back without a moment’s hesitation. “You two are way better shots and way better trained that I’ll ever be, and I’ll need the best men ready if things go to shit.”

  “Bullshit…!”

  “Quite possibly…” Thorne ginned faintly with a shrug of concession “…but also true enough. Keep your weapons ready, and don’t hesitate to use ‘em if it all goes south…!”

  Raising his hands in the air, Thorne rose to his feet and stepped slowly out into the middle of the tracks in full view of Eddie and Briony.

  “Okay… okay…!” He called out loudly, then made a slow, three-sixty turn in place to make it clear he carried no obvious weapon as he shrugged the combat webbing from his shoulders and let it fall to the ground. “You can see I’m unarmed. I’m going to walk to the Land Rover now and drive it up to you. Please do not hurt the girl…!”

  “She’ll be just fine so long as you do what yer told!” Leonski shouted back, trying to push himself tighter into the framework of the bridge. “Go on and drive up here…!”

  Thorne turned again slowly and walked back to the Land Rover, expecting to feel the pain of slugs slamming into his back at any moment. As he reached the vehicle unscathed, he caught the eye of the driver hiding behind it and shook his head as faintly as he could to indicate the man not move.

  “Your gun…” he hissed softly, not making any moves that would be obvious from behind. “When I open the driver’s door, toss it onto the seat with me… you got that…?”

  “Got it…” the man whispered back, trying to remain motionless as Thorne rounded the front of the 4WD and paused beside him at the door.

  In one fluid movement, Thorne opened the driver’s door and the NCO tossed the Browning lightly onto the seat, never moving from his position of cover beside the front quarter panel. Sliding the weapon down to the floor beside the seat and the door, Thorne climbed in over it and made a show of putting on his seat belt and settling himself in.

  “I’m gonna take off with a bit of a spray to throw up dust,” he advised quietly as he reached for the ignition. “Take the opportunity to get to cover while he can’t see you.”

  Without waiting for a nod, he kicked the engine over and selected first gear, giving the diesel a few experimental revs before dumping the clutch and moving off in a cloud of dust and gravel. Turning the vehicle quickly, he trundled onto the tracks and headed up toward the bridge as the driver dived away to one side in the billowing dust and took refuge behind a tree.

  With the 4WD in second gear and barely idling along onto the bridge span, Thorne reached carefully down with one hand and checked the pistol down beside his seat. Through touch alone he was able to tell that the weapon’s hammer was back and that the safety was off. Should he need to use it, it would be ready to fire the moment it snatched it up.

  “That’s close enough…!” Eddie shouted as he drew to within two or three metres, pointing the revolver directly at Thorne’s face through the windshield as the Land Rover came to a halt. “Now… get out – slowly – and come around to the other side of the car. I want you to open the back door and leave it that way, then get back behind the wheel.”

  He’s clever… the voice in Thorne’s head observed at that moment. Gives him cover while he approaches the car…

  “Shut up…!” He hissed in return. “I haven’t got time for you right now…”

  Oh, you may think that, but you’d be surprised…!

  Thorne ignored the unwanted thoughts and pushed open his door, making a big show of keeping his hands clear as he slid out of the driver’s seat. Closing the door, he stepped around the front of the vehicle, one hand guiding him past the bonnet as his gaze never left that of Eddie Leonski and the gun he was pointing at Thorne’s face.

  “You can still give yourself up and live through this,” he ventured, trying his best to sound sincere even as Leonski sneered in return.

  “You must really take me for a sucker, pal…!” He shot back with a scornful grin. “They hang a guy for murder in the army, pal, and you know it… now open that back door and shut the fuck up…!”

  “Whatever you say, mate… whatever you say…” Thorne placated, barely able to contain his own rage as he reached the other side of the car and pulled open the rear passenger door, leaving it wide and moving back to the front of the vehicle.

  “Hold it...!” Leonski called out as Thorne reached the driver’s door once more, anoth
er idea occurring to him. “Hold it right there…! You’re the other guy from the house, ain’t ya?” He observed, recognising Thorne’s voice and changing the subject. “What was the name you said…? ‘Thorne’…? “Max Thorne’…?” He grinned, his eyes wild and crazy. “Well, Mister Max Thorne, I reckon maybe you should open the back door on your side too…”

  “Now hold on, mate,” Thorne began, recognising the crazed look in the man’s eyes as he waved the Smith & Wesson in his direction. “We had a deal, right? You get the car and we get the girl…”

  “Yeah, that was the deal, pal,” Leonski conceded without any hint of remorse, “but it’s just occurred to me that if I still got the girl, what the fuck do I need you for?”

  Thorne was ready for it even as Eddie pointed the pistol, diving backward and indeed flinging the rear door open to afford him some protection as the muzzle roared and a .44 slug howled past where his head had been. A second round punched through the glass of the open door, shattering it and showering Thorne’s head and neck with fragments as he pressed himself against the bodywork.

  With the door open he was able to reach in from the back seat and draw out the Browning, but it was currently useless as he was still left with the danger of hitting Briony so long as Leonski held her close to him. Even so, he felt better for having a weapon to hand and safed it before stuffing it awkwardly into an oversized holster that had been originally fitted for another type of handgun altogether. To ensure he didn’t lose it, he forcibly closed the securing press-stud strap across the back of the grip to hold it in place.

  “Where you gonna run, ‘Max Thorne’…?” Eddie crowed with excitement. “Where ya gonna run to now…?”

  “Good song, that…” Thorne muttered nervously to himself, trying to hum the first few bars of the Australian group Redgum’s song of the same name to keep him from panicking as he desperately tried to work out what to do next.”

  “Sit-rep, Max… sit-rep…!” The call came over his belt radio from Lloyd, both men kneeling with weapons raised at the end of the bridge but unable to get a clear shot and uncertain as to whether or not he’d been hit.

  “Stay – the fuck – where you are…!” Thorne snarled back quickly into his shoulder mike. “I’m okay, but if you two storm up here right now I won’t be, and neither will the girl. Hold back for the moment… I’m workin’ on something. Whatever happens, do not fire if there’s a danger of hitting the hostage…!”

  “Comin’ ‘round there, ‘Maxie’…” Eddie goaded, gripping a handful of Briony’s hair in one fist and pushing her painfully ahead of him as he moved forward toward the front of the Land Rover, the pistol aimed at Thorne’s position across her right shoulder. “Gonna draw a bead on ya any second now and you can’t shoot back unless ya wanna hurt the kid…”

  No shit… the voice in Thorne’s head chimed in quietly with ‘perfect’ timing as always. Which one’s the rock and which one’s the hard place…?

  “Did anyone fuckin’ ask you…?” He growled back, breathing heavily as fear and adrenalin coursed through his system. “I should throw you in the fuckin’ river…!”

  Maybe you should… came the silent thoughts in reply, sounding particularly pointed. Maybe you should at that…

  He thought about the idea then, and the more he did so, the more Thorne thought it might be his only chance.

  “About time you made yourself useful…!” He sniped with sarcasm, reaching down and making sure the Browning was secure at his belt. Tensing his muscles in the crouch, he took a second or two more to steady his nerves and then launched himself upward like a coiled spring, hands on the railing as he vaulted his body over it in a perfect arc and he fell from the bridge, tumbling toward the fast-running brown waters of the Murray River a few metres below.

  Eddie fired two more shots at Thorne as he dived over the side but neither came close, and he was in any case forgotten completely the moment Leonski realised that the man was no longer a threat. Instead he forced Briony onward toward the car, shoving her around to the driver’s side and using his gun hand to drag the front door open, making sure at all times that they remained covered by the already-open back door.

  “Get in…!” He barked, ramming her head forward and hauling her up into the front seat before pushing her awkwardly past the floor-mounted gear shift. Unslinging the carbine, he tossed it onto the back seat before lifting himself up and sliding into the driver’s seat beside her. Slamming the door, he used his left hand to force the vehicle into first gear, the engine still ticking over softly in neutral the whole time Thorne had been outside. With his other hand he held the Smith & Wesson on his lap, the muzzle pointing directly at Briony in the other seat.

  Sobbing, dazed and in pain, Briony reached for her seat belt all the same and clipped it across her body. Wherever they went, Uncle James had always insisted she wear the seat belts he’d had retro-fitted to his Ford V8 and it had now become a reflex action to secure herself whenever she got into a vehicle in which they were fitted.

  “You try anything dumb, you die…” He added simply, disengaging the handbrake and sending the Land Rover powering away along the bridge toward the Victorian side.

  On the Victorian side of the bridge, hiding behind one of those same low sandstone pillars that capped the iron framework at each end, Brandis watched everything unfold through a pair of high-powered binoculars. Dressed in camouflage pants and top similar to that of Lloyd and the others, he was completely hidden in the shadow of overhanging trees as he watched Thorne leap from the bridge and then turned his attention to the Land Rover. He could clearly see Briony putting on her seat belt and smiled faintly because of it. He knew that she always put her belt on – the journal entries had indicated it every time after all – but it still helped that he saw it for himself.

  “Good girl…” he murmured softly, nodding in approval before stowing the binoculars and cocking the silenced automatic he held in his other hand. Leaning out to one side of the pillar just enough to take aim, he fired two carefully-aimed shots into each of the approaching Land Rover’s front tyres, both bursting instantly and causing the vehicle to slew wildly to one side. Without even a second look, he turned and bolted off into the scrub on the downstream side of the river, knowing his work was done for the time being.

  Eddie was completely unprepared for the loss of control and the speeding 4WD careened off the iron framework of the bridge, striking it a glancing blow and sending the Land Rover veering off to the opposite side where the nose struck the railings at a more acute angle and smashed in the bonnet and front panel work, stopping it dead as steam immediately began to pour from its shattered radiator.

  Briony, with her seat belt secure, was winded badly as she snapped forward under the impact, only to be stopped short by the vinyl straps across her lap and chest. Eddie, who’d never even considered using a seat belt, fared far worse. His chest crashed against the steering wheel, coming close to fracturing his sternum under the force of the blow and releasing a sudden blast of the horn. His forehead smacked hard against the front windshield, starring it with a web of cracks and leaving him momentarily dazed and groggy as the revolver skittered onto the floor beneath the dashboard.

  Winded and in pain as she was, Briony nevertheless recognised this as a perfect opportunity and kicked open her door, unclipping the belt about her and sliding out onto the bridge. She almost fell to her knees, recovered quickly and then began staggering along the tracks toward the nearer river bank, using the iron railings for support.

  Shaking his head savagely to clear his thoughts, Eddie was after her a moment later, scooping up both the Smith & Wesson from the floor and the carbine from the back seat as he slid out through the same open passenger door and ran after her, his gait wavering and erratic as he fought to retain proper balance. His chest felt as if it were on fire and there was blood trickling down across the bridge of his nose from where his forehead had struck the windshield, but none of that mattered to Eddie Leonski at that m
oment… all he was thinking about was the certainty that losing the girl would also mean losing his life in very short order.

  He caught her at the very end of the bridge, grabbing her by the hair once more and hauling her neck backward as she screamed in anguish and pain. She tried to fight him, turning in an attempt to kick or punch him with all her might, but he slapped her again hard with his free hand and knocked her to the ground. Taking a handful of the back of her dress, he lifted her up again with sheer physical force and propelled her toward the nearest trees, heading south-east toward the larger areas of bushland along that upstream side of the river.

  Thorne had hit the water awkwardly, become momentarily disoriented as he was caught and carried by a powerful undercurrent, and was perhaps ten metres beyond the bridge by the time he broke the surface once more, gasping for breath. As he tread water for a moment with the current carrying him along, he turned back toward the bridge and picked up movement out of the corner of his eye. Peering across to the southern bank, he caught sight of an unidentified figure running off into the trees on that side.

  He was given no time to think much about it – the sound of the Land Rover smashing into the bridge railings a moment later captured his attention completely and he turned his gaze back in that direction to watch helplessly as Briony climbed down from the stalled vehicle and made her way along the tracks, quickly pursued by a staggering Leonski.

  Throwing a desperate glance back to the northern side of the bridge, he could now see Lloyd and Langdale belatedly making their way across with weapons at the ready, but there was no chance in his mind they’d reach the vehicle in time to be of any use. He struck out for the southern bank, swimming in that fast-moving water no easy task in combat fatigues and army boots. With the strength of the current, he wasn’t completely certain that he too wouldn’t be too far away to be of any help by the time he reached land.