Black List

by Will Jordan

  With the nerve that only a direct threat to his life could impart, the pilot brought them in closer to the surface of the water, so close that spray from the engine downwash rose around them like an artificial cloud.

  The shoreline was approaching rapidly, the pilot lacking enough control to slow their velocity. The landing was going to be rough, but Hawkins was prepared for that.

  Another slow roll brought the lake into full view, and he knew this was the best chance he’d get. Unclipping his safety harness, Hawkins threw himself out the open doorway without hesitation.

  Several seconds of tumbling, sickening weightlessness followed as he plummeted through the air towards the lake. Clearly the pilot hadn’t brought them in as low as he’d instructed.

  This thought was followed a heartbeat later by a thundering, crushing impact as he slammed into the water and disappeared beneath the surface. With a million icy pinpricks assailing him as the cold seeped into his muscles, Hawkins quickly recovered his sense of orientation and kicked for the shimmering light above him.

  Emerging with a gasp and a spray of chill water, he found himself about twenty yards out from the rocky shore, the sound of the stricken chopper already receding into the distance. Wasting no time, he strove towards it with sure, powerful strokes, and soon felt stony ground beneath his boots.

  *

  Tossing the knife aside, Anya knelt down beside the unconscious woman and began to undo the clips holding her body armour in place.

  ‘What the hell are you doing?’ Alex asked, puzzled by her behaviour.

  ‘They may have air assets watching this area. They’ll see us the moment we try to leave,’ she explained, deftly removing the armour, followed by Mitchell’s radio unit. ‘These vests have transponders that let them tell friends from enemies, so put this on.’

  Tossing the vest to him, she rose to her feet. The look in her eyes was enough to make him back off a pace. ‘And unless you intend to pull the trigger, never point a weapon at me again.’

  With that she brushed past him to retrieve the second vest, snatching the MP5 out of his grasp as she went. Alex knew better than to protest.

  Donning the unfamiliar Kevlar vest, Alex followed Anya as she headed for the front door. She had armed herself with the MP5 taken from her erstwhile adversary, and quickly swept the open area beyond with the weapon.

  ‘It’s clear,’ she judged after a few moments, leading him outside.

  They hadn’t made it more than ten yards before the radio earpiece she was wearing sparked up with an incoming transmission. ‘Overlord to Charlie. Sitrep.’

  Anya was very familiar with such devices, and immediately hit the transmit button strapped around her neck. ‘Charlie copies. House is clear, no sign of tangos. Moving outside.’

  Alex stared at her, startled by the sudden shift in her voice. She’d managed to perfectly replicate the accent, and even the timbre of Mitchell’s voice. Heard over the pop and crackle of a radio network, it was unlikely anyone would be able to tell the difference.

  ‘Roger that. Be advised you have police units inbound. ETA seven or eight minutes.’

  Anya smiled at their good fortune. ‘Copy. Recommend Overlord withdraws. We’re moving to evac.’

  ‘It’s your call, Charlie. Good luck. Out.’

  Switching off the radio, Anya looked down towards the lake. There was no sign of the remaining team members, but it was likely they were still in the area. ‘They will realize their mistake soon. We must hurry.’

  ‘Where do we go?’

  ‘Anywhere but here.’

  With Anya leading the way, they took off through the woods, running as only people fleeing for their lives can run. Adrenaline and fear charging through his veins, Alex sprinted through the shadows beneath the dense evergreen canopy, paying little heed to the direction they were heading. His only concerns were putting as much distance as possible between himself and the house, and keeping pace with his companion.

  To her credit, Anya did at least slow down occasionally and glance over her shoulder, though he couldn’t say for sure whether she was checking on him or looking for signs they were being followed.

  Alex made it a few hundred yards before shock and exhaustion caught up with him. Stumbling against a tree, he doubled over, coughing and retching and clutching at the trunk for support.

  Coming to a stop, Anya undid the tabs holding her Kevlar vest closed and tossed it aside. The GPS identification system built into the vest had served them well during their escape from the house, but it wouldn’t take long for the Agency to figure out what had happened and turn that same technology against them.

  This done, she turned to look at Alex. ‘Get rid of your vest. We must keep moving.’

  Moving was the last thing on his mind at that moment. Over and over he saw that image of Landvik falling to the floor, his head blasted apart by the powerful sniper round. His friend; a man who had allowed them in his home, who had agreed to help them (albeit reluctantly) and who had paid for it with his life.

  ‘I killed him,’ Alex whispered, tears stinging his eyes. ‘Jesus Christ. He’s dead because of me.’

  It was one thing to have ruined what was left of his own life and put himself in danger, but this was completely different. An innocent man had died today because of Alex’s stupidity and arrogance.

  ‘We don’t have time for this.’

  He sank to his knees, staring down at the muddy ground as despair and grief pressed down on him like a physical weight. ‘What’s the point in running? We lost the download. We’re fucked.’

  Suddenly he felt himself seized by a strong grip, and looked up to find Anya kneeling beside him, her eyes locked with his. ‘Alex, listen to me. I know he was your friend, but his death was not your fault. He killed himself when he triggered that alarm. You can grieve for him later if you must, but for now we have to leave this place. Now get up!’

  Her words had done little to assuage his guilt, but they did at least kindle a small fire of resolve within him. Wearily he pulled himself to his feet and fumbled to undo the tabs on his vest. Gratefully shedding the cumbersome and restrictive body armour, he allowed Anya to lead the way once more. She was still moving quickly, but at a more measured pace than before, to give him more of a chance to keep up.

  Their course ran parallel to a small stream at the base of a shallow creek for the next hundred yards or so, allowing them to remain more or less hidden from view as they retreated. Only when Anya spotted a trail winding through the woodland up ahead did they change direction.

  She halted for a moment and knelt down to examine some markings in the ground. It had clearly been raining since the tracks were made, but even Alex was able to discern tyre marks in the dirt. The nature of the vehicle that had left them was lost on him however.

  ‘This way,’ Anya said, leading him down the trail.

  *

  ‘Olivia! Olivia, wake up!’

  Mitchell’s eyes opened a crack, her conscious mind struggling to reassert itself as confused thoughts and images whirled through her head. Then suddenly she saw an image of the woman named Anya standing over her, saw her boot come crashing down, followed by an explosion of light and a great gulf of darkness that seemed to swallow her up.

  In that moment, her eyes flew open and she sat upright, almost knocking Argento off his feet. ‘Woah! Easy,’ he cautioned, taking her by the shoulder and easing her back. ‘You took a blow to head. I was starting to wonder if you’d come round.’

  She was starting to wish she hadn’t. Waves of pain radiated through her head like ripples in a pond, and she had to swallow hard as a surge of nausea threatened to overwhelm her. Gingerly she reached up and touched her left temple, which seemed to be throbbing in time to her pulse. A swelling the size of a boiled egg seemed to have risen beneath the skin.

  ‘How long was I out?’ she managed to say.

  Argento made a face. ‘Search me. I’ve been out a while myself.’

  It was only the
n that she noticed his dishevelled state. Bruising and cuts marked one side of his face, and his hair was matted with congealed blood. Then again, taking a fire extinguisher to the head was likely to cause a fair amount of damage.

  ‘You okay?’ she asked, ashamed for not noticing before now.

  ‘I doubt I’ll be doing any modelling for a while, but I’ll live.’

  ‘Any sign of Yates and the woman?’

  He shook his head. ‘They must’ve split after they took us down.’

  ‘Shit.’ The rest of her team needed to know about this. Reaching up, she felt around for the radio transmitter that linked her into the other ground units, then frowned when she realized it was gone.

  ‘Mine too,’ Argento confirmed. ‘And our vests and weapons.’

  ‘God damn it.’ Mitchell could hardly believe that one unarmed woman had taken them both down and escaped with such brutal ease. It was as if they’d presented no obstacle to her.

  ‘Listen, there’s something you need to see,’ the young man went on. ‘I swept the house after I came round. They’ve got some kind of computer terminal set up in—’

  ‘Quiet!’ Mitchell hissed, straining to listen.

  She could hear something outside; something above the persistent ringing in her ears and the pounding of her heart. A long, sustained wailing sound, rising and falling in pitch. Police sirens.

  Argento heard it too, and immediately reached the same conclusion.

  ‘We need to evac,’ he said. Whatever he had to tell her could wait for now. ‘Can you walk?’

  ‘Can you?’ she fired back, struggling to get to her feet. The world seemed to be spinning around her and the nausea was back with a vengeance.

  ‘Guess we’ll find out,’ he said, helping her up.

  *

  In the woods not far away, Hawkins was busy following the trail left by the two fugitives in their desperate bid to flee the area. His clothes and hair were still soaking from his recent plunge into the lake, but the cold barely troubled him as he pushed relentlessly forward.

  Anya, well trained as she was at escape and evasion, left a barely discernible trail amidst the pine needles and damp soil of the forest floor. The same could not be said of her companion however. Even an untrained eye could have followed his deep and uncoordinated trail with ease, and Hawkins was far from untrained.

  Spotting something on the ground up ahead, Hawkins gripped the submachine gun tighter. As he approached, he reached up and pressed his radio.

  ‘Alpha to all units. Possible contact in the forest west of the house,’ he whispered. ‘Anyone copy?’

  Nothing. Not even static.

  ‘Fuck.’

  He’d suspected his dive into the lake wouldn’t do his tactical radio unit any favours, but there had been little choice at the time if he still expected to play a meaningful part in this action. In any case, he had little faith in Mitchell and her fellow agents to do anything except absorb bullets for him.

  Keeping a wary eye on the quiet woodland around him, he knelt to examine the pair of Kevlar vests that had been seemingly discarded at the base of a tree. These vests had come from his own assault team, and it didn’t take long for him to guess why.

  Anya had proven herself a worthy adversary once again, taking out two armed operatives and using their identification tags to clear the area without arousing the attention of the Reaper drone overhead. Leaving the body armour where he found it, Hawkins rose to his feet and prepared to pick up the trail.

  She had done well to make it this far. But she would definitely pay for it.

  Chapter 28

  Their progress was easier on the relatively flat path, and soon the trees gave way to an expanse of open lawn. Perhaps fifty yards away stood a house of similar design – albeit smaller size – to the one they had just left. Alex realized then that they’d stumbled into a neighbouring property. The lakeside location might have been remote, but there were still other houses here, no doubt all occupying prime vantage points overlooking the water.

  Both of them crouched down at the edge of the woodland to survey the area. There were no cars visible in the driveway and no outward signs of activity. It was possible the occupants were either out at work or that this place was only a weekend residence. Either way, it seemed unlikely they would find transportation here.

  Signalling Alex to hang back, Anya angled left, heading for a wooden outbuilding about thirty yards from the house. It looked like a small garage or storage shed of some kind; quite well maintained, judging by the freshly treated timbers and unmarked felt roof. The double doors at the front were secured by a simple bolt-and-padlock combination that was probably all the security one needed in these parts.

  Anya paused long enough to study the ground leading up to the doors. Satisfied she’d found what she needed, she reached into her pocket and produced what looked like a couple of thin pieces of metal.

  Armed with these simple tools she went to work on the lock, quickly and efficiently disabling its pin tumbler system. In under ten seconds the formidable looking device fell away, allowing her to haul the door open.

  ‘Alex, come here,’ she hissed.

  Hurrying across the open space and feeling exposed the whole time, Alex gratefully slipped through the door and into the cool darkness of the shed. The interior was like most small garages the world over – lots of tins of paint, plant pots, old tools, garden furniture and a hundred other things that the owners probably never used but weren’t ready to part with.

  The thing that marked this one out as different however was the battered but rugged-looking motorbike propped against one wall. Lightweight and durable, and splattered with dried mud, it looked like a scrambler rather than a long-distance road cruiser. The sort of vehicle that was perfect for roaring along narrow forest trails.

  Wheeling the bike into the centre of the shed, Anya mounted it, leaned forward to check the fuel tank, then gave the starter lever a single powerful downward stroke. Straight away the small engine leapt into life, its high-pitched rattle sounding almost toy-like in the confined space. Still, it was ready and clearly willing.

  ‘Get the door,’ she said, nodding to the door that had swung shut.

  Creeping over, Alex reached out and eased the wooden door open to survey the open ground beyond.

  At the same moment, he felt the strange sensation of something whizzing past his face at high speed, moving so fast that it seemed to create a shockwave of disturbed air in its wake that made his ears pop. An instant later, Alex flinched as the door next to him exploded in a spray of broken wood fragments, a fist-sized hole punched in its frame.

  ‘Down!’ Anya cried out.

  Even as he dropped to the ground, moving more on instinct than in obedience to her instructions, he was aware of more holes suddenly appearing in the door and walls around him. Only then did the distinctive, terrifying crackle of automatic gunfire reach his ears.

  Anya too had abandoned the bike and thrown herself down, recognizing the meagre protection offered by the building in which they found themselves. Broken splinters of wood rained down on them as more shots tore into the shed, shattering old plant pots and bursting apart tins of paint.

  ‘Stay flat!’ she warned, hoping a stray round didn’t find a soft human target.

  Crawling forward on the dirt floor, Anya drew her weapon and squinted through one of the bullet holes that now riddled the shed’s wood panelling. Sure enough, she could just make out the figure of a man in dark combat gear crouched behind a tree trunk at the edge of the woods with a weapon at his shoulder. . He wasn’t in any hurry to advance on them yet, because he knew he had the upper hand.

  With a fully automatic weapon and an apparently plentiful supply of ammunition on his side, he could afford to keep pouring fire into the shed until sooner or later he scored a fatal hit. And where there was one operative, there were likely to be more just like him. The longer he kept her pinned down here, the greater the chance that others would close
the net around her. And surrounded by open ground, there was nowhere she and Alex could flee to.

  Even she couldn’t fight her way out of a trap like this singlehanded. If she was to escape this with Yates, she had to act now.

  Gripping the MP5 she had stolen earlier, she took a rough aim and squeezed off a long burst of automatic fire in response, attempting to shoot through the holes their attacker had already made and perhaps score a lucky hit on an unprotected limb. However, her shots were too inaccurate and her target too well protected for the burst to have much effect.

  Before she could squeeze off more than a dozen rounds, the priming handle snapped backward and locked in place, jammed by a stoppage. Either a defective round that hadn’t cleared the breech, or a spent casing lodged in the ejection port. Either way, clearing it would take time she didn’t have.

  Outside, Hawkins adjusted his aim downward, squeezing off another sustained burst at the storage shed. The MP5 kicked back into his shoulder with each rhythmic thud, the working parts clicking as they drew a fresh round into the breach while ejected shell-casings pinged to the ground around him.

  The shed, constructed of soft wood panelling around a basic framework, presented no resistance whatsoever, the rounds punching cleanly through and out the other side. Pausing only a moment to eject the spent magazine from his smoking weapon, he drew a fresh one from his webbing and pushed it home in a single smooth motion before rising to his feet and advancing towards his target.

  In lieu of cover provided by fellow team mates, he would have to rely on nothing more than raw firepower to tip the scales in his favour.

  Anya might have evaded him back at the house, but she wouldn’t get away this time. The shed was surrounded by open ground, making escape impossible. He had the advantage of both armour and firepower, and he intended to make use of both.