The Girl in the Machine (Leah King Book 3)

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The Girl in the Machine (Leah King Book 3) Page 6

by Philip Harris


  Pourteau pointed toward the corner of the room. “Put her over there.”

  Garlic Man dragged Leah across the room. She tried to fight back, but every movement she made just tightened his grip around her throat until she was on the verge of passing out. He threw her into the corner. Her back slammed into the wall. Her head snapped back and followed suit. Her legs buckled, and she collapsed to her knees.

  Garlic Man towered over her. He had a blocky face, almost rectangular, with an equally angular nose. He laughed softly.

  “Damn, Pourteau, it looks like we’ve caught ourselves a terrorist.”

  Leah put on a confused look. “What? No! I’m not—”

  Garlic Man slapped her around the side of the head. Darkness wavered at the edge of her vision. Tears filled her eyes. Spilled over. Rolled down her cheeks.

  The man laughed, and Leah felt the heat of shame rise in her cheeks.

  “You keep your mouth shut until I ask you a question. Got it?”

  Leah took a slow, deep breath and nodded.

  Before she could stop them, her eyes flicked over the man’s shoulder to the bank of security screens.

  “Oh, sorry, am I in your way?” The man stepped back so that Leah could see all the screens. There were multiple groups of Transport officers visibly spread across the station. Leah’s heart sank.

  “That’s right,” said Garlic Man. “While you were running around playing hacker, we locked this place down tighter than a gnat’s asshole.” He smiled again. The malice in his expression cut into Leah’s gut like a knife. “It’s only a matter of time before we find your friends, and it won’t end well.”

  Leah felt more tears forming. She blinked them away. Transport had captured her, and there was nothing she could do about that. Back in Columbia, she’d seen what Transport did to their prisoners, and there was no way she’d let this man get information out of her. She owed Alice that much at least.

  She straightened her back and locked eyes with Garlic Man. He must have seen her determination, because his smile came back. Two of his front teeth were crooked as though they’d had difficulty finding space inside his square jaw.

  “Did you see that? She’s just decided she’s not going to tell us anything.”

  Leah had been focused on Garlic Man, but now she looked at his companion. For the most part, his face was bland. There were no cuts, no blemishes, nothing that would help you pick him out of a lineup. Apart from his eyes—they were a pale, almost translucent blue.

  Garlic Man clicked his fingers in front of Leah’s face to get her attention. “Never mind him. You’ll get to talk to him in a while. After you’ve told me where your TRACE friends are hiding.”

  Leah tightened her jaw.

  This time, the man didn’t smile. He reached toward his belt. There was a bulky pistol clipped to it, but his hand moved past it to a rectangular pouch. He removed a black box with two metal prongs on the end. Without hesitating, he pressed the prongs against Leah’s stomach.

  There was a click and a crackling sound, and then every muscle in Leah’s body convulsed as electricity poured through it. Leah tipped her head back to scream, but she couldn’t. Her jaw was welded shut. Her throat began to constrict, cutting off her air supply.

  Then Garlic Man pulled his hand away from her stomach. It took a few seconds for Leah’s body to realize it was no longer under attack. Then her muscles relaxed. The metallic taste of blood filled her mouth. She moved her tongue around and found a rough patch on her cheek where she’d bitten it.

  “So, here’s the thing,” said Garlic Man. “I really don’t want you to answer my questions. We’ve got a couple of hours until Westler gets here, and I’d quite like to spend that time making you regret the day you signed up with TRACE.” Flecks of spittle landed on Leah’s cheek where the man spat that last word. Leah wondered if she’d smell of garlic, too, now.

  The man lifted the plastic box and held it in front of his face. He turned it left and right as though he were admiring a priceless work of art.

  Leah glanced at Pourteau. She wondered if he was intending to be the “good cop” and step in to befriend her. The malicious look in his eyes convinced her he wasn’t.

  Garlic Man pressed a button on the side of the box. Blue lightning leaped between the metal prongs and was accompanied by a harsh crackling sound. The man moved the prongs toward Leah’s face.

  14

  There was a soft puff.

  The side of Garlic Man’s head exploded in a shower of blood and bone. Leah felt something wet splash across her face. Garlic Man tumbled sideways.

  Another shot, and Pourteau fell back, clutching his shoulder. There was a blur of movement, and someone, Da Silva, slammed him into the wall. She rammed her forearm across his throat. His hands clutched at her face, then she pressed the barrel of her gun against his thigh and fired. Blood spattered the wall. Pourteau screamed, but the sound came out strangled and breathless.

  Da Silva removed her arm, and he slid to the floor, clutching the wound in his leg.

  “Leah, are you okay?”

  It was Alice.

  Leah managed to croak out a “Yes.”

  “Can you stand?”

  “Yes, I-I think so.”

  She pushed herself upright. Alice reached to help her, but Leah knocked her hand away. She’d be no use to them if she couldn’t even walk on her own. Blood rushed to her head, and she staggered slightly as a fresh bolt of pain zigzagged down her spine, but she managed to stay on her feet.

  She glanced toward the security screens. The Transport soldiers were still moving through the building. “Where are the prisoners?”

  Alice shook her head. “They weren’t here.”

  “What happened to them?”

  “That’s what our friend here is going to tell us,” said Da Silva.

  She knelt beside Pourteau. He was clutching his leg, but his efforts were doing nothing to stem the flow of blood. It was pooling around him, and his face was pale. With his head tipped forward and his eyes squeezed shut, he looked like he was about to pass out.

  Da Silva pressed the tips of her fingers against his forehead and pushed. Pourteau lifted his head and let it fall back against the wall. He opened his eyes.

  “Where are the prisoners?” said Da Silva.

  Pourteau raised his eyebrows and shook his head slightly. Da Silva pulled his hand from his leg and pushed her thumb into the wound. The man threw his head back and screamed.

  Da Silva removed her thumb and wiped it on the man’s uniform. Her face was like stone, and Leah had to suppress a shudder at the look of cold hatred in her eyes.

  Leah looked across at Alice. She thought the sergeant might step in and stop Da Silva, but she just stood there, watching impassively.

  “Let’s try that again, shall we?” said Da Silva.

  Pourteau opened his eyes. He still looked confident, but he’d gone even paler, and beads of sweat stood out on his brow. His throat bobbed, and then he spat in Da Silva’s face.

  Her reaction was so fast that Leah didn’t see the gun until the shot had already been fired. Da Silva had pressed it deep into the man’s uninjured thigh and pulled the trigger. Blood exploded around the man’s leg. He screamed again, high and loud. He flung his head back, and it collided with the wall with a dull thump. Da Silva pulled the gun away to give the man room to grab his leg. Leaning forward and gasping in pain, he wrapped both hands around the wound. Tears streamed down his face.

  “Da Silva, we don’t have time for this,” said Alice.

  Da Silva grabbed Pourteau’s hair and tipped his head back. When she pressed the barrel against his right shoulder, he opened his eyes.

  “Last time. Where are they?”

  The man swallowed, and Leah thought he was going to spit in Da Silva’s face again.

  Then he grimaced and said, “They’ve taken them east to Hanley. By—” He hissed through his teeth. “By train. You’re too late, though. You’ll never catch them.”
>
  Da Silva put on a fake smile and removed the gun. The man was panting heavily. He didn’t seem scared, though, and when Da Silva pressed the gun against his forehead, he straightened up slightly and stared directly at her.

  “Da Sil—” said Alice, but the crack of the pistol cut her off.

  Leah turned away. On the security monitors, three Transport officers in body armor were rushing along one of the corridors.

  Alice put her hand on Leah’s shoulder. “Are you okay to run?”

  Leah nodded. The movement set the world spinning slightly.

  Alice pressed a pistol into Leah’s hand. “Stay close.”

  On the screen, the Transport officers had reached the end of the corridor.

  15

  The waiting room was still empty. Da Silva raised her pistol and fired two shots into the panel beside the door that led deeper into the station. It erupted in a shower of sparks. She switched her pistol for an automatic rifle and led them out of the waiting room and back toward the parking area.

  Alice asked if Leah was okay again. She raised a hand instead of speaking. She was concentrating on not falling over. Her vision was blurred, her legs seemed intent on going in different directions, and there was a heavy pounding at the base of her skull.

  Da Silva crashed through the door at the end of the corridor. Bright sunlight dazzled Leah for a few seconds. She kept moving anyway. As she stepped outside, there was a crackle of automatic gunfire from somewhere nearby. A moment later, someone returned fire from her left.

  As Leah’s eyes adjusted to the light, she saw Da Silva running toward their SUV. Her gun was at her waist now, and she let off a few rounds as she ran.

  “Go!” said Alice. “I’ll cover you!”

  Leah ran after Da Silva. Her pistol was still in her hand, but she didn’t fire. It was all she could do to stay on her feet as she charged across the pavement toward their vehicle, bullets kicking up debris around her.

  Da Silva got the rear door open just as Leah got there. She threw herself inside.

  More gunfire.

  Desperate to at least try to help, Leah looked out the window. Alice was running across the parking area while Da Silva laid down covering fire. Two Transport officers were pinned down behind a van. Another lay sprawled across the ground nearby. Da Silva fired, and the van’s windshield exploded. She opened the driver’s door and climbed inside.

  Leah fired through the window, shattering it, then fired again toward the van. Her shots clanged against the vehicle’s hood. There was no chance she’d hit any of the officers, but at least they were keeping their heads down.

  The SUV rocked as Alice dived into the passenger’s seat. “Go!”

  Da Silva stamped on the accelerator. The car arced backward. Leah was flung sideways and almost hit her face on the driver’s headrest.

  Alice was leaning out of the passenger-side window and firing toward the Transport officers, but they’d seen what was happening. They peeked their heads around the side of the van and fired. Bullets tore up the side of the SUV. The rear window shattered, and three ragged holes appeared in the vehicle’s roof.

  The SUV straightened up and accelerated again. They were heading toward the chain-link gates at the entrance to the station. Leah had a sudden flashback—crashing through another gateway at a different Transport facility.

  “Get down!” said Alice.

  Leah threw herself against the seat. The movement made her head swim. Her stomach clenched.

  Bullets tore through the back of the SUV. There was a crash and a ragged scraping sound. The SUV jounced, then the engine screamed as it accelerated again. There was the dull crump of an explosion somewhere behind them. Fragments of glass rained down on Leah, and she braced herself for the SUV to flip over as their fuel tank exploded under the impact of whatever had hit them, but it didn’t.

  Lying on the seat was making Leah dizzy, and the bouncing, swerving SUV wasn’t helping. Hesitantly, she pushed herself upright again. Her vision swam for a moment then returned to its almost clear state. There were more holes in the ceiling, and white stuffing sprouted from the headrest behind Alice. For one terrifying moment she imagined Alice slumped in the seat with a hole in the back of her head where a bullet had hit her. Then Alice turned to look at Leah and gave her a tight-lipped nod.

  Outside the SUV, the handful of pedestrians on the streets gawked at them as they raced through the town. Horns blared as they swerved around a car crossing a junction in front of them.

  Leah turned to look out the rear window. The glass was a spider web of cracks, but there were enough chunks missing that Leah could see out. The road behind them was clear apart from the car they’d almost hit. Its driver was standing beside his vehicle, speaking into a cell phone.

  The SUV’s tires screeched as Da Silva swung them around a corner. They were almost at the edge of the town now. The faint wail of a siren reached them, but there was no sign of any Transport pursuit.

  Alice had her radio out. “Wichita? We’re on our way, but we may have company.”

  “Understood, Sarge. Hobbs is here. We’ll be ready.”

  The SUV took another corner, then another. It bounced as they cut off the main highway and onto a side road.

  Trees rushed past as the SUV raced through the countryside. Wind tugged at Leah’s hair through the broken window. It was cool, and she found her head clearing. She watched behind them for signs of pursuit, but the road was empty.

  Ten minutes after leaving Adderbury, Da Silva pulled the SUV off the road and onto a narrow dirt track that wound over a small hill. Hobbs and Wichita were waiting on the other side with the truck.

  The SUV slid to a halt. Alice helped Leah get out.

  Hobbs called to them from the front of the truck. “Come on. Radio chatter says they’re close behind.”

  Alice climbed into the back of the truck first then pulled Leah up. Weary, she sat on one of the metal benches. Da Silva clambered over the tailgate. Her eyes shone with excitement.

  Alice hammered on the wall of the cab and shouted, “Let’s get out of here!”

  The truck lurched and began to move. Leah grabbed hold of the seat to steady herself.

  Alice sat down next to Leah. “How are you feeling?”

  Leah gave her a halfhearted smile. “I’m fine.”

  “I told you to go.” Alice’s voice was soft, but there was a reproachful look in her eyes.

  “I couldn’t just leave you there.”

  “Leah, I need to know you’re going to follow orders. Always.”

  Leah shifted uncomfortably. Alice’s tone was almost identical to the one her father had used whenever he’d found out she’d been scavenging out in the wilderness.

  “Sarge, give the girl a break,” said Da Silva. “She did exactly what you would’ve done!”

  “That’s not the point.”

  Da Silva raised her eyebrows in response.

  “I’m serious. Those two thugs were going to kill you.”

  “I’m sorry,” said Leah.

  Alice sighed and rubbed her temple. There was a smudge of blood on her cheek. Leah had let her down. Heat rose in her face. She stared out the back of the truck. The edges of the landscape were blurred slightly. Frowning, she squeezed her eyes closed then opened them again. No change.

  “What’s the matter?” said Alice.

  “My eyesight’s a bit blurry, that’s all.”

  Alice leaned forward. “Let me take a look.” She examined each of Leah’s eyes, pulling the lids apart to get a better look. “No obvious damage. Probably side effects from the VRI.”

  “Why didn’t the access code work?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe it was an old code.”

  “Or they knew we were coming and set a trap,” said Da Silva. “Maybe the guy who gave us the data was setting us up?”

  “No!” said Leah. Her vehemence surprised even her. She swallowed. “If it was a trap, why weren’t there soldiers? How did we get away so easil
y?”

  “You may be right,” said Alice, “but we need to be careful. We don’t know what that person’s real motives are.”

  Leah gave a hurried nod. She frowned. “The men who were interrogating me mentioned that someone called Westler was coming to get me.”

  “Well,” said Da Silva, “that would certainly lend weight to the trap idea.”

  “She’s one of Transport’s top ‘investigators,’” said Alice. She made air quotes around the last word. “She’s very good at encouraging people to give up their darkest secrets.”

  “So, what are we going to do now?” said Da Silva.

  “We give Billingham the information on the train.”

  Da Silva muttered bleakly.

  “You got a better idea, Da Silva?”

  “No, Sarge, but Transport will want to work out why we went after those prisoners. If they’re smart, and one or two of them are, they’ll start digging. It won’t be long before Morgan’s real identity comes out.”

  “So, we’re back where we started?” said Leah. “Only we’re worse off because Morgan is on a train, not in a police station we can break into.”

  “Which is why we need to back off and let Billingham come up with a plan.”

  “Or…” said Da Silva. She had her tablet out. The screen was displaying a map. She pointed at it. “There’s an airfield here. Airfields have helicopters.”

  Alice slowly smiled.

  Leah’s eyes widened in surprise. “We’re going to steal a helicopter.”

  “Borrow,” said Da Silva.

  “But who’s going to fly it?”

  Da Silva gave Leah a look that said she was clearly an idiot for even thinking of that question.

  “Won’t Billingham be angry?” said Leah.

  “He will be anyway,” said Alice. “We’ve probably gone too far this time; we might as well go all in.”

  “In that case, it sounds like we’ve got our plan,” said Da Silva. She was smiling, and despite the fear that was worming its way into Leah’s gut, she was glad. That was more like the old Da Silva, before Doukas had been killed.

 

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