by Tom Barber
‘Get in, Sam!’ Ledger shouted as the noise of the approaching train increased.
Archer leapt over the rail and tried to jam himself into the narrow space, the gang of rioters now almost on them. He couldn’t quite fit. Forced to leave the rifle in the gap between the concrete and the rail, he rammed himself into the tight space, scraping his face and shoulders and now unable to fire as the gang ran towards them, the leaders shouting murderous threats.
The two at the front ran forward to within twenty feet and lifted handguns to blast them.
Then Archer looked beyond them and shut his eyes.
A split-second later the train thundered past. The men disappeared in a second, the screeching and clanging of the train the most intense noise Archer had ever experienced. It was just inches from his body and with every split-second that passed, he waited for a piece of detritus or dangling metal to slice him apart.
Opening his eyes a fraction, sparks fizzing from the wheels filled his vision. He thought he heard Angela screaming but couldn’t be sure over the noise.
Then just like that, the deafening noise lessened as the train passed, replaced by gusts of wind and empty space, discarded wrappers and trash settling back onto the tracks as the train thundered on through the tunnel.
Archer stayed where he was for a few moments.
Then he opened his eyes.
Manoeuvring his head out of the space, he looked back down the tunnel and saw it was dark and empty once again.
But now it was quiet.
The lines continued to rattle gently.
Then they were still.
The gang who’d been there only seconds ago had disappeared. In their hopped up, hyper aggressive state, they hadn’t made any attempt to find cover when the train had rolled through; thankfully the darkness of the tunnel was concealing what had happened to them.
Easing himself out of the narrow gap with some difficulty, aware the live rail was just inches away, he saw Angela and Ledger also levering themselves out.
‘You alright?’ he asked, helping Angela to her feet. She nodded shakily, looking traumatised, unable to speak.
‘Harry?’
‘I’m good.’
Turning to where Jesse had been hiding, Archer saw the boy hadn’t crawled out but he was moving; Archer and Ledger both stepped forward to help him and saw he had a gash on his head which was bleeding slightly.
‘You OK?’ Archer asked.
The teenager nodded. ‘Yeah. Hit my head on the wall.’
In the dim light from the red bulb beside them, Archer saw Jesse’s eyes flick past him and widen.
Snapping around, Archer saw two moving specks of light.
But this time, they didn’t belong to a train.
Thorne and Deerman had been about to follow the noise of the gunshots down the tunnel when they’d heard the sound of a train coming. Being a service train and not passenger, which meant it didn’t stop at the station, the pair waited for it to thunder past and then followed it.
Moving as fast as he dared Thorne took point, his assault rifle in his shoulder, wondering if anyone had managed to survive the train speeding through.
And quickly reached evidence that some of the Anacostia gang hadn’t.
Unconcernedly stepping over what was left of them and continuing on, a few moments later Thorne halted, seeing blood on one of the tracks, red against the metal glistening in the light from his rifle, what was left of two bodies lying on the tracks.
Shining the light directly on the mess, he could see from the clothes that it wasn’t Archer, Ledger, the kid or the woman.
‘Shit, think they got hit?’ Deerman asked in Spanish. ‘Is it over?’
‘You see their bodies?’
Deerman looked at what lay in front of them. ‘Hard to tell.’
Thorne shook his head, continuing forward. ‘Not them.’
Thirty metres later, stepping over pieces of baseball bat and several knives which had been carried down the track, he suddenly stopped dead, his rifle and light aimed to the right. Thorne saw an access door which was shut, the first they’d come across. He peered closer.
The lock had been broken.
Running along the upward sloping service corridor behind the others, having just followed them up a long flight of stairs, covering their backs, his face and clothes filthy from dust and grime, Archer heard the door they’d just found smash back.
‘They’re coming!’ he hissed.
Sprinting up another long flight of stairs, the group arrived at a fixed ladder leading to another corridor. Ledger went first, hampered slightly by his damaged shoulder, then Angela followed by Jesse, Archer the last one to climb, slinging the rifle over his shoulder before racing up the ladder.
Hearing the men’s running footsteps getting closer, they ran down another small corridor towards a door at the end. It was sealed but Ledger didn’t hesitate and shot the lock open.
They found it led out directly onto the street, a highway to their left, a neighbourhood to their right, the noise of sirens in the distance, the air hot and muggy, the smell of smoke in the air. Looking around, Archer tried to get his bearings then realised they were less than four hundred yards from the Anacostia River, Ward 6 just the other side but the roadblocks still in place blocking their escape.
Around them he heard the now familiar sounds of shouting, minor explosions and sirens. Having only travelled a few hundred yards underground, they’d re-emerged in the heart of Anacostia.
The focal point of the rioting, and right now the most dangerous part of the entire city.
THIRTY THREE
Fifty yards to their left was a highway leading towards a bridge, wide roads, grass and open spaces with nowhere to hide, and to their right was the Anacostia neighbourhood.
Knowing the two NSA agents were right on their tails, Archer knew they only had one option.
‘This way,’ he said, starting to run deeper into the neighbourhood, the others right behind him.
‘Wait!’ Jesse called. Turning, Archer saw Angela was struggling to breathe, her eyes wide with panic. Guessing she was having a panic attack, Archer ran back, focusing on the Metro rail access door they’d just come through, knowing the two men would smash through it at any second. They couldn’t run any further with Angela struggling so badly.
‘In there!’ he said, nodding at a two floor hardware store behind them whose door and front window had been smashed in, most of the contents looted. As Archer and Ledger half-carried Angela towards the building, Jesse went inside first, the four of them heading straight for the counter at the back of the store.
Lowering Angela to the floor, Archer checked back for any sign of the NSA team. Seeing the coast was clear for the moment, he picked up an empty, grease-stained brown McDonalds paper bag from an upended trash container beside them and held it over Angela’s nose and mouth.
‘Breathe,’ he told her, looking her in the eyes. ‘Slow down. Deep in, deep out.’
Her eyes wide and full of tears, she did as he asked, the bag inflating then deflating. After a few moments, her chest started to move more rhythmically, the panic attack beginning to subside. Archer smiled, trying to relax her, Ledger keeping his eyes on the street from behind the edge of the counter, his pistol in his hand.
‘That’s it.’
As her breathing steadied, Archer left her with the bag and joined Ledger, immediately focusing on the street, checking the area as best they could from such a limited vantage point.
The street looked as if a bomb had hit it, windows smashed on all the surrounding stores, blinds and security shutters hanging drunkenly from their hinges, but for the moment there was no sign of any of the looters. Probably because there’s nothing left to steal, Archer thought. The place had been stripped so effectively he was surprised the looters hadn’t taken the paint off the walls.
However, the sound of unrest was too close for comfort. Turning to check on the others, he saw Jesse’s head was still bleedi
ng sluggishly from the cut; despite Ledger’s shoulder being padded up, it was clearly causing him extreme discomfort, his face drawn and his eyes hollow from pain and fatigue.
‘You were wrong, Sam,’ Ledger said to him. ‘Angela was right. That guy’s prints confirmed he’s NSA.’
‘But he looked nothing like the guy in the photo,’ Jesse said, overhearing.
Before anyone else could say anything, Archer suddenly ducked back behind the counter, waving his arm at the others to be quiet.
Two of the NSA operatives had just appeared on the street outside.
‘Which way?’ Thorne asked Burnett.
‘I don’t know. Cameras are busted, but I’m listening to the FBI scanner. They’re mostly concentrated in Barry Farms. They’ve been told Ledger and the others escaped into the subway. They’re sealing off the stations either side of Anacostia on the Green Line.’
The two men looked around the street to their right, seeing stores damaged from looting, their windows broken, metal shutters designed to protect them ripped off. Looking down, Thorne couldn’t see any blood on the street or sidewalk.
But the two cops, woman and kid couldn’t have gotten far. They were still here somewhere, probably in one of these stores.
‘They wouldn’t have tried the bridge,’ Deerman said. ‘They wouldn’t get across.’
‘We’ll start with the stores,’ Thorne said, moving forward.
‘You’ve got a gang coming your way.’
‘How many?’
‘Twenty or so. It’s the Barry Farms crew, on enemy turf. They see you in those uniforms, you’re gonna have to put them down.’
‘How far?’
‘Two streets away.’
Thorne looked around him, then glanced at Deerman.
Here was an opportunity.
‘Riley, Tarketti, where are you?’
‘Five blocks out.’
‘We’re pulling back,’ Thorne said.
Watching the two men from inside the damaged store, the rifle in his hands, Archer could see them talking, although he was too far away to hear what was being said.
After a few more moments, the pair suddenly swung round and disappeared out of sight.
‘They’re leaving,’ Archer whispered.
‘Why?’ Jesse asked.
‘Cops must be coming,’ Ledger said.
‘Or trouble,’ Archer said, hearing the noise of shouting and whooping in the air; it was getting louder. Staying low, he moved to the other end of the counter to get a better view.
He could see the Anacostia River tantalisingly close, only four hundred yards away, visible down a side street directly in front of them.
‘Hold up,’ he said. ‘Look at this.’
Ledger and Jesse crept over.
On the bridge they could see a mass of blue and red lights, the roadblocks.
But the cars were moving.
‘What are they doing?’ Jesse said, watching the lights leaving the bridge, returning to the other side of the Anacostia and heading left.
‘They’re shifting to block the subway exit on the other side,’ Archer said. ‘They know we went inside. They think we’re still down there.’
‘Shit, we’ve got a chance,’ Ledger said, looking at the clearing bridge. ‘Ward 6 is just the other side of the water. If they stay off the bridge long enough, we can finally get the hell out of here.’
Looking around the store, Archer saw a flight of stairs leading to the floor above, a higher vantage point. Pulling the magazine from the rifle he’d taken from the agent and seeing there were still plenty of bullets inside, Archer slotted it back in and turned to his three companions.
‘That bridge isn’t going to be clear for long. This is our chance.’
‘On foot?’ Angela said, her breathing steadied. ‘They’ll be onto us before we get anywhere near the bridge. And they might have drawn back waiting for us to show ourselves. It could be a trap.’
‘It’s now or never.’
‘I live three blocks from here,’ Jesse said. ‘We can use my mother’s car. They won’t be looking for that.’
‘We can’t,’ Archer said. ‘They’ll have people all over it. They know who you are.’
Jesse thought for a moment. ‘A friend of mine lives close. His family have a car.’
‘That’d work,’ Archer said. ‘Which way?’
Jesse pointed to the right. ‘102 Morris Road. We’re literally three blocks away, man. We can make it.’
Looking at the street in front of them, Archer made a quick decision.
‘We need that car,’ he said. ‘But we have to go right now. You all go first.’
‘What about you?’ Angela said.
‘I don’t know where the hell those two went or where their two friends are, but these guys aren’t the type to give up. They’ve been using long-distance rifles in all the hits they’ve made. They could have set up and be waiting for us to appear and pick us off. You need someone watching top-side. I’ll do it.’
‘Don’t leave us,’ Jesse said.
‘I won’t. Once you guys make it out of the next two streets, I’ll follow. Wait ninety seconds for me to clear the rooftops. If you don’t hear anything, then go.’
Ledger nodded, turning his attention back to the street and preparing to move, Angela and Jesse close behind him. Without another word, Archer ran up the stairs, taking them two at a time, and disappeared out of sight.
THIRTY FOUR
Easing open the door to the hardware store roof, Archer carefully checked the other buildings around him before moving out.
From up here, he could smell the smoke from the burning cars and buildings in the surrounding streets. Now he could get a much clearer picture of the neighbourhood and it wasn’t pretty; damaged properties, vehicles on fire, figures in masks and hoods silhouetted against the flames as they roamed the streets, clashing with police, trashing buildings or making off with stolen goods. All in all, it was civil unrest at its worst and a battle he could see the police were struggling to win.
He quickly checked all around him, seeing no sign of the men on the streets below, no trace of them on the highway behind or more importantly, as best as he could see in the poor light, on any of the surrounding buildings.
Where the hell had they gone?
Staying low, he made his way to the front edge of the east side of the roof, pausing to check down a skylight he passed. It provided light for what appeared to be a storeroom, empty apart from a table directly below. He stepped round the glass panel before dropping down and working his way to the edge of the roof.
It was flat but made of dark asphalt, which helped camouflage his outline; the downside was the surface was hot as hell. Keeping down in order not to break the line of the roof and ignoring the heat burning through his chest and stomach, he switched his attention back to the buildings around him, checking the most likely points for a shooter. Night had fallen, but light from a full moon, fires and street lights were helping him scan nearby rooftops.
Four of those men had showed up in Barry Farms, yet only two had re-emerged on the street.
And that was concerning him. A lot.
Checking the main street again, he glanced down at the weapon he’d taken from the sniper. The name Rozio was printed on the side in small lettering above the serial number, the same company who’d made the rifle found in Harry’s apartment. Christ only knew the weapons the NSA had access to, but it appeared whoever was hunting them liked this particular brand. Though he’d never fired one of their weapons before tonight, Archer had heard of them and knew they had a reputation for reliability.
As he found himself hoping the rifle was accurate if he needed to use it, the stark image of Nate’s slumped body on the East River bikeway flashed into his head, the boy killed by a shooter over a thousand yards away. This weapon would shoot straight.
He saw movement almost directly below him on the street as Ledger, Angela and Jesse appeared, moving quickly through the
shadows towards the edge of the road.
Pausing, Ledger glanced up at the roof, knowing Archer was up there watching their backs.
Then they started to cross the street.
His shoulder throbbing from pain, Ledger felt horribly exposed as they ran across the road. With Jesse and Angela right behind him, he led the way, gripping his Department pistol tight.
The events of the last few hours hadn’t done his shoulder any good and he felt sick from fatigue, his head thumping, his stomach burning and his mouth dry as his body craved OxyContin. He could see Angela and Jesse were starting to flag too, both of them looking increasingly stressed and tired, but Ledger had been on the run for twenty four hours longer than any of them and it was beginning to feel like a lifetime. He couldn’t even remember what normal felt like.
The three of them made it to the other side of the street, Ledger constantly checking around them.
‘Which way?’ Angela asked.
Before Jesse could answer, Ledger suddenly holstered his pistol then pushed them both into the shadows in a gap between two houses.
Up above, Archer swore as a large gang of rioters turned the corner and started to walk down the middle of the street, one having just thrown a Molotov cocktail at nothing in particular, a pool of fire crackling on the road. He counted nineteen of them, all in bandannas, masks and hoods, all of them carrying some form of weapon, guns, bats or lengths of chain.
He watched as the group continued to move down the street, heading closer to where the three were hiding.
They hadn’t seen them.
Yet.
As the gang passed the narrow passageway between the two houses, Ledger, Jesse and Angela stayed completely still, holding their breath, not daring to move. Although one or two of the men glanced down the alley there was nothing in the darkness to interest them, the light not good enough to spot the three people flattened against the wall.
They moved on, Ledger, Jesse and Angela staying where they were, but Ledger knew they had to move; out in the open like this, it was only a matter of time before they were seen. Motioning for the other two to follow, Ledger eased his way out of the alley and turning left, headed quickly in the opposite direction the gang had taken. Angela looked back over her shoulder to make sure the men were still heading away from them.
