Hit Squad

Home > Thriller > Hit Squad > Page 12
Hit Squad Page 12

by Sophie McKenzie


  ‘She did,’ Harry said quickly.

  I nodded. ‘Me and Harry were in front, Bradley behind . . . when we were running out of the building.’ I thought back to Bradley’s shaking hands and pale, clammy face. ‘It all happened real fast.’

  ‘And you didn’t notice you’d left him behind either?’ Foster glared at Harry.

  Harry looked away. I shook my head. It was outrageous for Foster to blame either me or Harry for Bradley’s capture.

  ‘People were chasing us,’ I said, feeling my anger mounting. ‘It was confusing. We were running fast and Bradley was ill before then anyway.’ I drew myself up. ‘If Bradley got taken, it’s nobody’s fault but yours.’

  Foster glared at me. His grey eyes were like tiny stones, his lips pressed together in an expression of determined fury.

  ‘How dare you blame me,’ he said. His voice sent a shard of ice into me, but no way was I going to let him see how intimidated I felt.

  ‘Of course I blame you, it’s totally your fault,’ I said, putting my hands on my hips and staring up at him. ‘It’s your fault because Bradley was scared. It’s your fault because he was inexperienced. It’s your fault because he wasn’t well. You made him come with us in spite of all those things. On top of which, you gave him the Medusix in the first place.’

  ‘That’s probably what made him ill,’ Nico added.

  ‘No,’ Foster insisted. ‘It made him ill early on, but Bradley had fully recovered.’

  ‘No, he hadn’t,’ I said. ‘Everything that happened is so all your fault. You can’t blame us.’

  For a second, Foster looked so furious I thought he might explode. His face was a dark red colour and a vein pulsed at his temple.

  ‘But I do blame you, Dylan.’ Foster narrowed his eyes. ‘In fact, I suspect you saw Bradley wasn’t keeping up with you and left him on pur—’ As he spoke, his phone rang. He held it to his ear, not taking his eyes off me. A second later he put it down again. ‘My men inform me that Bradley is still unconscious.’

  Silence fell. I was suddenly aware of Ed standing beside me and Harry and Nico opposite. They were all looking at me, the expressions on their faces part confusion, part terror.

  Jack stepped forward, out of the shadows by the door. I’d forgotten he was even in the room.

  ‘At least you know Bradley hasn’t compromised the mission,’ he said quietly to Foster. ‘If he’s unconscious, I mean.’

  Jeez, I suddenly saw how frightened Jack himself was of Foster. The thought filled me with dread. Jack was rarely fazed by anything.

  Foster ignored him. He was still staring at me.

  And then he raised his gun and pointed it at my head.

  ‘I’m afraid the truth is, Dylan . . .’ he said, cocking the gun, ‘. . . that where there’s a crime there has to be a punishment.’

  I looked down the barrel of the revolver. Was he going to shoot me? Because of Bradley? It didn’t feel real.

  Then I realised my legs were shaking.

  I tried to engage my force field, but the Medutox being sprayed into the room had already reached me. I was defenceless.

  ‘No.’ Nico and Ed spoke together.

  Harry strode towards me. He stood between me and Foster. ‘You can’t kill her,’ he said.

  Foster raised his eyebrows. ‘I don’t think any of you are in a position to tell me what to do.’

  Jack walked forward, so he was right beside Foster. His eyes were on Foster’s gun as he spoke.

  ‘There’s no need to take things this far,’ he urged. ‘The men can get Bradley out of hospital. He probably collapsed because . . . well, it’ll be just another side effect of the Medusix. I’m sure it will pass. So . . . we’ll get Bradley back. No one will know what the kids were doing in the conference rooms. They’ll assume it was petty theft. No one will be looking for data that’s been put onto a computer. The mission worked. Everything’s going—’

  ‘Shut up,’ Foster ordered.

  Jack stopped talking immediately, but he moved closer to Harry.

  ‘Dylan had the power to save Bradley from capture and keep the mission on track,’ Foster said softly. ‘She failed. She must be punished.’ He levelled his gun at me again. But Harry was still standing between us, blocking the shot. ‘Get out of the way, Harry,’ Foster ordered.

  ‘No,’ Harry said.

  ‘Please,’ Ed said, his voice practically hoarse with horror. ‘Please, you can’t shoot.’

  Foster swung his gun round, pointing it now at Ed himself.

  ‘I told you not to give me orders,’ he barked. ‘A punishment must be paid.’ He paused. ‘Still, Dylan remains a useful asset. And as Harry was also on the mission, he is also partly responsible for its failure.’ He swivelled the gun back. ‘So . . . you’re the one I’m going to kill, Harry.’

  ‘No.’ I put my hand out to protect him, forgetting again my Medusa power was completely gone.

  ‘No, you can’t.’ Jack was on Harry’s other side. ‘Foster, this makes no sense. Harry’s as useful as the others. I know he wasn’t supposed to follow me out here, but he can hack into anything and—’

  ‘. . . and it’s murder,’ Nico added.

  Foster called out and Broken Nose came into the room.

  ‘Move her,’ Foster ordered, pointing at me.

  Broken Nose strode over and pulled me away from Harry. He dragged me over to stand beside Nico and Ed.

  ‘No,’ I said. I kicked at the man’s legs, but he jerked my arm behind my back. I winced with the pain.

  Foster levelled his gun at Harry again. I forgot the pain in my arm. This was real. Foster meant it. He was about to shoot.

  Harry knew it too. He turned to me. ‘See ya, Red,’ he said.

  ‘No.’ The voice that came out of me was broken and small – a voice I didn’t even know I had. ‘No, please.’ I struggled against Broken Nose again but, again, he jerked on my arm. I stopped.

  ‘Say goodbye to your son, Jack,’ Foster sneered.

  He pointed the gun. I stared at his fingers. They were squeezing the trigger. It was about to happen. There was nothing I could do to stop it.

  ‘NO!’ As I yelled, Foster fired.

  And Jack leaped in front of the bullet.

  22: The Sacrifice

  The shot rang out. Jack crumpled to the ground. There was a terrible silence, then Harry let out an agonised roar and hurled himself at Foster. He landed a punch into Foster’s guts. Caught by surprise, Foster bent double. Broken Nose let go of me and rushed over.

  Harry was still kicking and punching and roaring his head off. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Nico – a blur – racing towards him and Foster. I darted over to Jack and knelt down beside him. His breath was coming in gasps. His hands were clutched over his belly, blood seeping through the fingers.

  Jack was blinking, his eyes full of shock. He said something, but his voice was so faint I couldn’t hear it. I leaned down closer, so my ear was right over his mouth.

  ‘Pck,’ he whispered.

  ‘What?’ I leaned in further.

  ‘Pocket.’ Jack’s breathing was laboured and wheezy. It was clearly costing him everything to speak.

  I looked up. Foster and Broken Nose were still fighting off Harry and Nico. Ed was standing behind me, watching. Jack saw him too. His eyes pleaded with us as he mouthed the word again.

  Pocket.

  I slid my hand into his shirt pocket. My fingers wrapped round a small plastic card. I pulled it out and tucked it swiftly into my own pocket.

  As I turned back to Jack, he looked up at me. His eyes were the brightest of blues. Just like his son’s.

  ‘Save Harry.’ The words were barely audible, but the look in his eyes said everything. ‘Save Harry, please.’

  ‘I will,’ I whispered, bending over him again. ‘I—’

  But as I spoke, the pleading left Jack’s eyes. And there was only a blankness.

  I sat back. He was dead. Across the room, Nico was still fighting B
roken Nose. Harry, on the other hand, had stopped struggling against Foster. He was staring down at his father’s lifeless body, his face the colour of ash.

  I stood up and Ed pulled me away from Jack’s body as Foster strode over. Without speaking, he bent down and felt for Jack’s pulse. Foster’s shirt was torn where Harry had attacked him and his eyes still burned with fury, but his face was otherwise composed.

  ‘Dead,’ Foster said, looking up from Jack’s body. He turned to Harry. ‘Your father paid the punishment for you. You’re luckier than you deserve.’

  ‘You’re a murderer.’ The words shot out of me, fury rising at the sight of Foster’s cold, hard gaze. ‘Nobody needed to die.’

  Foster shrugged. ‘Take it as a warning,’ he said. ‘Thanks to you we’ve had to move operations away from the castle – but we’re getting more Medusix ready and soon we’ll have more kids to test it on.’ He turned to Broken Nose, still holding Nico. ‘Get rid of the body.’ And then he turned and stalked out of the room.

  Broken Nose let Nico go and went over to Jack as another guard arrived. Together they picked the body up and took it away.

  The door shut behind them. I looked around. Nico and Ed were staring at Harry, who sat on the couch, his head in his hands. I could see neither of them knew what to say to him.

  It was up to me.

  I went over, sat down beside Harry and put my hand on his back. He looked at me with haunted eyes. I slid my arm around his shoulders and squeezed his arm.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ I stammered.

  Harry rubbed his cheek and blew out his breath.

  ‘I’m sorry too, man.’ Nico had walked over and was standing in front of us. He offered Harry a sympathetic smile.

  Beside him, Ed nodded.

  I looked at each of them in turn. ‘Guys,’ I said. ‘We have to get out of here.’

  ‘I know.’ Nico sighed. ‘But I don’t see how. Foster has taken away our Medusa powers and—’

  ‘It doesn’t matter,’ I interrupted. ‘We’ll just have to do it without them.’ I pulled the card from my pocket. ‘Jack wanted us to have this.’

  Harry took the card from me. It was plain white plastic with a magnetic strip along one side. ‘What is it?’ he said.

  ‘I don’t know,’ I admitted.

  Harry turned the card over. Four numbers were printed in black marker pen on the other side: 5739

  ‘That’s too short to be a phone number,’ Nico said.

  ‘It’s got to be some kind of pin,’ Ed said. ‘Like for getting money out of the bank . . .’

  Harry weighed the card in his hand. ‘My best guess . . .’ His voice cracked with emotion. He took a deep breath. ‘I reckon this number must be today’s code for the front door here. It’s the only thing that makes sense.’

  I nodded, remembering the keypad by the front door and how Harry had punched in numbers to let us out before.

  Ed rubbed his forehead. He lowered his voice. ‘You mean this number could get us out of here.’

  ‘Yes, I think so,’ Harry said miserably. ‘Jack knew you’d all been sprayed, so Nico’s telekinesis wouldn’t work. This pin number’s our only option.’

  I stared at him. ‘So if we can just overpower Foster and the guards, we can let ourselves out of the apartment?’

  ‘Exactly.’ Harry paused. He stared down at the card itself. ‘But I don’t know what this is for.’

  I looked back at the piece of white plastic that the pin number was written on.

  ‘Maybe it was just the place where Jack wrote the code down?’ I suggested.

  ‘Maybe.’ Harry looked away.

  ‘Or maybe it means something significant . . . we just don’t know what yet,’ Ed suggested.

  ‘Maybe Jack was trying to help us, before he . . .’ Nico tailed off.

  We fell silent. Harry bowed his head. He put down the card, as if he couldn’t bear to look at it any more. I exchanged a look with Nico. Ed wandered across the room to the locked window.

  ‘D’you think that could be true, Red?’ Harry’s voice was strained. ‘D’you think Dad was trying to help us escape? I mean, he knew what Foster was planning . . . he knew that our lives were in danger.’

  There was a pause. To be honest I had no idea what Jack had been up to, but that wasn’t what Harry needed to hear. ‘I’m sure Jack was trying to help us,’ I said. ‘The last thing he said was . . . was about wanting you to be safe.’

  Harry bit his lip. I picked up the card. I had no idea how to offer Harry any comfort through what I said. Maybe the best thing I could do right now was focus on the practicalities of our next challenge.

  ‘Let’s get ready,’ I said. ‘As soon as the next guard comes in, we overpower him. Agreed?’

  Nico and Harry nodded.

  ‘Er . . . wouldn’t it make sense to wait until Foster leaves the apartment – or at least sends some of the guards away?’ Ed said from the window across the room.

  ‘How will we know when he does?’ Nico asked.

  Ed pointed out of the window. ‘I can just see his big car from here,’ he said. ‘It’s parked in the alley.’

  ‘Good, we’ll take it in turns to keep watch,’ I said. ‘As soon as we see the car go, we use the next opportunity to escape.’

  The next opportunity came quicker than any of us were expecting. Ed had agreed to take the first watch. Nico was lying on one of the couches, asleep. I had been sitting beside Harry on the other. We didn’t say much and, after a while, my eyes closed.

  I awoke with a start. Harry was shaking my shoulder. ‘Ed says Foster’s just driven off in his car. He had Broken Nose with him.’

  I sat up, rubbing my eyes. Ed and Nico were standing by the other couch, talking in low voices.

  I looked up at Harry. There were dark shadows under his eyes – it didn’t look like he’d got any sleep at all.

  ‘If Foster’s taken Broken Nose, that means there’s only one guard left here,’ I whispered.

  ‘I know.’ Harry turned to the others. ‘Ready?’

  Nico and Ed nodded.

  I stood up, my heart thudding. ‘Nico and Harry on either side of the door?’ I said. ‘Ed and me yelling?’

  ‘You took the words out of my mouth,’ Nico said with a terse grin.

  The boys took up their positions. I stood beside Ed, opposite the door and beside the side lamp that was the only source of light in the room. ‘Go!’ I said.

  Ed yelled. I screamed. Nico and Harry banged on the door. Seconds later the guard appeared. As he opened the door fully, I yanked the light out from its socket.

  The guard shouted as Nico and Harry jumped him. I could just make out their silhouettes against the light from the hall. I ran across to join them. The guard was already on the floor. Nico was binding his hands. Ed and I wound the lamp wire round his ankles.

  ‘Come on!’ Harry was already in the doorway.

  I followed him through. Nico came after. Ed stopped to lock the door behind us, then we raced to the front door. My heart was in my mouth as I punched in the numbers from the white plastic card. I handed it to Nico and pushed at the door.

  With a click, the door opened. The four of us rushed through and across the landing to the stairs. We hurtled down the steps and out through the side exit.

  It was raining outside and the pavement of the deserted alley shone in the street lamps.

  ‘Which way?’ I gasped.

  We were clearly in a different part of Lovistov from the area close to the church where we’d first arrived. Nico pocketed the card and pointed towards the busy street just visible at the end of the alley.

  ‘Down there,’ he said. ‘We need to get as far away from here as we can. In half an hour we’ll get our powers back. Then Ed can hopefully contact Cal or K—’

  He stopped. I knew he’d been about to say Ketty’s name. His face contorted with pain.

  So much loss. And all because my dad had been a genius and synthesised a gene for psychic abilities. For the f
irst time, I wished that the Medusa gene – and the drug Medusix that mimicked its effects – had never been created.

  ‘We need to move.’ I led the way along the alley. We emerged onto the busy street. Rain pattered onto our heads and shoulders, as we sped across the road and on past shops with glass windows and dark-painted doors, and homes with lace curtains revealing lights and families inside.

  On we ran. As we raced along, Harry took my hand and I found myself wishing we were just an ordinary boy and girl, out for the evening with our friends. Not part of a bizarre group of teenage freaks whose lives were destined always to lead to trouble, misery and death.

  At last – just as the rain slowed to a drizzle – we stopped running. We had reached a small kids’ playground – swings and a roundabout. It was dark and deserted, the only light coming from a street lamp over twenty metres away.

  Ed leaned against the roundabout. I sat down on one of the swings.

  Harry slumped into the seat beside me.

  ‘It’ll be over soon,’ I said to him, forcing a smile onto my face. ‘We’ll make contact with the others and we’ll pay Foster back. I promise. Then it will all be over. We’ll be free.’

  But inside I couldn’t see how – even if we stopped Foster – we would ever be truly free. Not while the Medusa gene still exerted its power over us.

  23: Plan of Attack

  It was dawn. And freezing. Harry, Ed, Nico and I were hiding out round the back of a run-down warehouse, taking it in turns to keep watch. Ed had made contact with Cal about an hour ago. He wasn’t far away and – much to our relief – he was with Fergus Fox and Avery Jones.

  He had explained, via Ed, that when he took Tania to a local police station so she could be returned to her family, he’d been held for questioning himself. That was why he hadn’t returned to the lake earlier.

  Still, I wasn’t interested in the details of what Cal had been doing. All that mattered was that he and the adults were on their way.

  Harry, Ed and Nico were huddled and shivering against the warehouse wall. It was my turn to keep watch but it was too cold to stand still. I wandered across the street and found myself in a small square. It was kind of pretty – with trees round the sides and a cute stone fountain in the middle. I walked diagonally across the square to a stone block by the fountain. It was a war memorial – very abstract and modern, made of overlapping angular carvings. These things always fascinate me. Erected to honour dead soldiers, I wondered who else had stood, looking at the same statue, mourning a loss.

 

‹ Prev