Fallback (The Adventures of Eric and Ursula Book 3)

by A. D. Winch

  The winding road continued to head upward. They were driving up the slopes of an impressive valley, and the midday sun reflected off of a river far below them. All the vehicles were zig-zagging up the mountain as they took a succession of two hundred and seventy degree corners.

  A driver behind Alexander was getting impatient. He beeped his horn and then overtook on a bend. Alexander hit the brakes as the car shot past his taxi, then Sasha’s taxi and the Yukon. They had reached a plateau, and a number of cars also overtook. In a matter of seconds, there was nothing directly behind him except a car with heavily tinted windows. Behind that was a train of trucks, but they were far down the valley and minutes away. This was the least traffic they were going to get. This was the moment.

  Alexander flashed his lights. Sasha saw the signal and copied what the other cars had done. She beeped the horn and then accelerated past the Yukon. Eric and Ursula slunk down in their seats as they overtook.

  The taxi continued to accelerate across the plateau and back onto the winding roads. Sasha braked sharply as they reached a sharp bend and the start of another incline. She drove on for two minutes and then skidded to a halt across the whole road. There was no traffic in either direction. The smell of burnt rubber wafted through the open windows.

  A rocky desert spread out on both sides of the road. Next to the tarmac, there was a crumbling wall that looked as if it was trying to keep the desert at bay. It was the perfect place for Eric and Ursula to hide. They ran out of the car with their weapons and jumped behind it.

  Sasha opened the bonnet. She poured water over the hot engine and was immediately lost in the steam. She adjusted her mini-shirt, pulled her top a little further down and waited.

  Eric took a sugar ball and put it in the box of ants. The sun beat down hard on them, and even though both he and Ursula loved the sun he still began to sweat.

  “This doesn’t feel right,” he said absent-mindedly and looked at the road.

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  ***

  Chapter 32 – A Box of Ants

  Ursula put a sugar ball in the box of ants before asking Eric, “What doesn’t feel right?”

  “What we’re doing? Something is wrong.”

  Ursula closed her eyes and tried to let her mind go clear. She had been so focused on her grandparents that she hadn’t realized she felt the same. It was hard to pinpoint exactly, but she knew that their ambush was not going to come as a surprise.

  Eric picked up as many stones as he could and rammed them into one of his pockets. He had a feeling that they were going to need anything that they could get their hands on. Ursula copied him.

  The Yukon came round the bend and slowed down as it neared the steaming taxi that blocked the road. Sasha stood up from under the hood and tried to look helpless. With no way to pass, the Yukon was forced to stop.

  A white SUV sped down the mountain from the opposite direction. It appeared from nowhere and drove fast before braking hard. The tyres squealed as it skidded across the road and stopped beside Sasha. Her taxi was sandwiched between the Yukon and the white SUV. Eric looked from these cars to a red SUV that had suddenly appeared behind Alexander’s taxi. Their plan to block the OSS vehicle had been used against them.

  “It’s a trap,” he shouted suddenly and jumped over the wall towards the Yukon.

  Ursula was right beside him.

  “Why have we stopped?” asked Mémé in French.

  Granddad Benjamin translated.

  Liaison Officer Oakley lifted the handbrake and turned to face the Benjamins. On his T-shirt was written, ‘Don’t worry, be happy.’

  “There’s nothing to fear,” he said reassuringly and placed his hand on the top of his seat. He was holding a gun.

  The plain-clothed soldier beside him smirked. From behind a wall next to the road, White King and Black Queen had just appeared. It was show time. He released the safety catch on his revolver and quickly got out of the Yukon.

  “We thought it would be nice to reacquaint you with some people you may know,” said Oakley with a sinister smile.

  Before Granddad Benjamin could translate, Mémé saw Ursula and Eric running towards them. A sudden fear gripped her, and she grabbed hold of her husband’s hand.

  “Ursula. Eric,” she whispered. Her voice was barely audible.

  Eric pulled back on his catapult and sent a stone flying towards the Yukon’s windscreen. It hit the glass with a considerable amount of force but bounced off without leaving a scratch.

  “Bullet proof glass!” he cursed.

  Ursula aimed straight at the soldier who had stepped onto the road in front of them. The stone hit him on the forehead and threw him off balance. He stumbled back and then leant forward as he tried to regain his balance. He could see the boy and pulled the trigger.

  Eric jumped, and the bullet exploded into the tarmac where his foot had been. Shrapnel burst into the air and into Eric’s leg. His jeans provided some protection, but the denim shredded in places and his calf stung. Eric hardly noticed. He pulled another stone from his pocket and shot again. It flew through the air and hit the soldier on the right eye. The force of the stone and the accompanying pain knocked him back towards the Yukon.

  From his taxi, Alexander could see exactly what was going on. As soon as the children had appeared from their hiding place, he knew something was wrong.

  The SUV that had skidded to a halt further up the road had emptied. Three people had jumped out, and none of them were Moroccan. They were dressed casually, as though they were tourists, but were all built like American football players, and each of them held a handgun. They walked calmly past Sasha’s taxi, their weapons pointing towards the children.

  They’re not going to shoot them, Alexander thought, it’s not in their interests to kill them, is it?

  He glanced into his rearview mirror and saw three more people getting out from a red SUV behind him. In the split-second he saw them, Alexander knew that they were part of the same team.

  There was no time to think. Alexander rammed the gearstick into reverse. His taxi’s wheels spun, and he slammed into the red SUV behind. It rolled backwards and off the road, scattering the agents as it did so. Meanwhile, Eric had reached the soldier who was trying to support himself on the Yukon. Ursula stayed back and covered him.

  He saw Eric approach and raised his weapon. Eric sprang into the air and executed a bicycle kick that crunched the soldier’s hand. The gun fell to the floor, and Eric landed in front of the soldier. As the soldier prepared to fight, Eric sent a punch through the soldier’s raised hands. His fist slammed against the soldier’s good eye, effectively blinding him. Eric followed it with a knee to the groin, and the soldier collapsed without any further resistance.

  Eric left him moaning on the ground and opened one of the Yukon’s rear doors.

  “Run!” shouted Granddad Benjamin.

  Eric didn’t stop to question what he was told. He sprinted off as a bullet from Oakley shot over his head. He headed for Alexander’s taxi. It accelerated forward with its wheels spinning and crashed into the rear of the Yukon. Inside, the Benjamins were thrown forward, and both of them banged into the front seats. Oakley smashed into the steering wheel but kept hold of his gun. It was too late though, the collision had shaken the door shut, and White King was gone.

  Eric’s pace had taken him around the back of Alexander’s taxi and towards the red SUV. Three agents closed in on him, and he slid to a halt.

  “Give up, and we won’t hurt you,” one of the agent’s shouted at him.

  “You’ve got nowhere to go to,” added another, training his gun on Eric’s legs.

  Eric turned and ran back towards Alexander’s taxi. Sasha was coming towards him. She had ditched her heels and was moving across the hot tarmac as fast as she could. Suddenly, there were three gunshots from behind Eric. He dived onto the floor and the bullets whizzed over his head.

  “Don’t shoot me,” Sasha screamed.

  Two shots flew i
nto the ground around her feet, sending concrete shards upwards. They punctured her skin and embedded in her calf. She lost her footing and, as she fell, a third bullet passed clean through her thigh.

  Sasha screamed with rage as she hit the floor, but she did not stop moving. The tarmac burned her skin as she dragged herself towards the taxi. Her blouse was covered in grit and grease, and her skirt was rapidly turning red. A crimson trail spread out behind her.

  Eric put the catapult down the back of his shorts and rolled across the road in her direction. By the time he reached her, she was next to Alexander’s taxi. Alexander opened the passenger door, and Eric dragged Sasha to her feet. Faced with little time, he threw her in and dived in behind.

  “Go!” screamed Sasha, holding her leg as blood poured over the taxi’s cream upholstery.

  “No! Ursula!” shouted Eric.

  Alexander was paying no attention to either of them. He had other matters to worry him. The car was in reverse, and his foot was pressed hard onto the accelerator, but the taxi was stuck. The wheels spun; smoke poured from the tyres and the smell of burning rubber surrounded the car. Alexander forced the gear stick into first, and the Yukon was jolted forward again. He quickly found reverse, and there was a loud screech as the taxi moved backwards, and its bumper started to pull away from the chassis.

  Ursula watched the scene with a sense of calm that she did not fully understand. There was a danger that she would be left behind but was adamant that this was not going to happen. She also had to admit that for now at least, it would be impossible to rescue her grandparents. More importantly, she had to make sure that she didn’t join them. She would be no good to them as a prisoner. She surveyed the scene around her and weighed up the situation in an instant.

  The soldier from the Benjamins' Yukon was pawing at the door handle as he attempted to get back into the SUV. The three agents that shot at Eric were giving Alexander’s screeching taxi a wide berth and heading for her. The other three agents behind had passed Sasha’s taxi and were almost upon her. There was only one place to run to.

  “Get down!” an Agent shouted from behind her.

  “You are surrounded. Put your weapon down!” an Agent shouted in front of her.

  Ursula looked from her catapult to the Agent. A voice in her head compelled her to move forward. She followed Johan’s advice and trusted it. As she sprang, she left an Agent grasping nothing but thin air. She hadn’t seen him but had avoided his attempted tackle. The other two were also closing in on her.

  At the same time, Eric had opened the taxi’s passenger window and was rapidly firing off stones from his catapult. Every one hit its intended target, and the Agents near the taxi switched from attack to defense.

  Ursula knew that it was time to move. She ran towards the Yukon and leapt up onto its bonnet. The heat from the engine, and the sun on the metal radiated up towards her. She sprinted up the window, onto the roof and then launched herself towards Alexander’s taxi as it reversed away from the Yukon.

  The taxi accelerated backwards as Ursula flew through the air. She cleared four metres of empty tarmac and landed on the roof. Her legs buckled under her, and the roof caved in slightly. Momentum propelled her onwards, but there was nothing she could do. She rolled across the scorching metal towards the rear of the car.

  Eric had known what she was going to do, even before she did it. The moment she had jumped, he had stopped shooting and thrown his catapult into the car. He had sat in the open window with hands resting on the roof. As Ursula slid across, he put out his hands and he managed to grab hold of the catapult that she was holding firmly.

  The taxi continued to accelerate backwards, past the red SUV and the agents near to it. A shot was fired, and the windscreen smashed into a million pieces. Another shot obliterated a passenger window. A third blew a front tyre, and a forth put a large hole in the front grill. None of the shots slowed down the taxi.

  “Hold on!” shouted Alexander, but the children didn’t need to be told.

  He took his foot off the accelerator, pulled up the handbrake and turned the steering wheel sharply. The car whirled around. Ursula kept hold of Eric and grabbed the side of the roof also as the car spun. It bumped and skidded over the dirt beside the road. Her legs were flung outward and off the roof, but she clung on.

  Alexander released the handbrake, put his foot back on the accelerator, and they were away.

  The wind whipped dust into Ursula’s face, and her arms were locked painfully. The burst front tyre pulled them to the right and completely unstabilised the car. Alexander was trying hard to keep control, but his erratic driving was not helping Ursula.

  He skidded around a hairpin bend and narrowly missed a lorry coming up the other way. There was a long straight before the next bend. He had to reach it before the next lorry. Otherwise, they would be blocked in. He pressed the accelerator pedal all the way to the floor.

  Eric kept hold of Ursula and slid back into the rear seat. He pulled Ursula towards him, and her head appeared at the open window.

  The bend was upon them.

  Once again, Alexander shouted, “Hold on!”

  Eric heaved, and Ursula was dragged through the window and on top of him.

  The taxi screeched around the corner. Sparks flew from the hub as the metal below the shredded tyre tore into the concrete. A lorry headed straight from them.

  “Left!” shouted Eric.

  Just as they were about to collide, both the lorry driver and Alexander turned their steering wheels to the left. The taxi bounced off the lorry’s trailer, narrowly missed a silver people carrier behind, and was away. The lorry turned too sharply, and its trailer jack knifed – blocking the road and sending hundreds of jars of olives down the mountain side.

  “Where did you learn to drive like that?” Eric asked, suitably impressed.

  “I didn’t. I followed Johan’s advice and improvised,” replied Alexander. He allowed himself a smile as he looked at the road block behind them. Nothing was getting past. Temporarily at least, they were in the clear.

  From this point, he drove more carefully and made sure that he gave lorries enough room on the bends. The noise from the wheel was excruciating, but they were able to balance the car slightly when Eric and Ursula both moved to the opposite side to the burst tyre.

  “Goddam it! How the hell can they do that! Goddam it!” bellowed Agent Angel.

  He looked away from the screens, and the taxi driving down the mountain, and tried to find something to break. Apart from Hoover, the computer and the vast number of screens there was nothing. Instead, he brought his fist down hard on Hoover’s glass desk. The blow echoed around the room, and a hairline crack snaked across the glass.

  “Goddam it!” he shouted again and spun around. “We had them all. All of them. All in one place, and once again we blew it.”

  “I’ve still got them onscreen, Sir.”

  “I know you have, Hoover. But we’ve missed the window!”

  Hoover smiled but hid it from Agent Angel, “Even if we do lose them; we can still track them easily.”

  “Just don’t lose them!”

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  ***

  Chapter 33 – Recriminations

  The car limped towards the outskirts of Azrou. The bullet that had shattered the car’s grill had also damaged the radiator. Alexander was happy to get as far as they could, ditch it and then walk. He had no desire to drive into an unknown town in a stolen car with three wheels. As far as keeping a low profile went, he thought that it was a very bad idea.

  “Sorry, Alexander,” said Sasha but it did not sound like an apology. “I can’t believe they shot me!”

  “You’ve nothing to apologise for,” Alexander replied. “Were your grandparents there, Ursula?”

  “Yes, Eric saw them,” she replied sadly.

  “We couldn’t have done anything more,” Alexander reassured. “The main thing is that you got away.”

  “I suppose so,” Urs
ula said without conviction.

  They drove on and down the mountain. Every time the burst tyre scraped along the ground the noise was grating. Sparks shot off from the metal, and Alexander was very scared that they may start a fire and cause an explosion. Therefore, he was relieved when he saw a possible refuge.

  They neared four abandoned warehouses beside the road, and Alexander steered the taxi gingerly toward the closest. There was no one around.

  None of the warehouses had been finished, and they were all in various states of build. One had no roof; one had no windows, and one was barely a shell. Alexander chose the one that was most complete and headed towards the entrance. It looked as if the owner had run out of money just before the doors were fitted. He drove the taxi into the warehouse and cut the engine. The car tilted and came to rest with the front of the taxi resting on the concrete floor.

  Alexander and the children stepped out of the car. The stink of burnt rubber and hot metal mixed with a new plaster smell and was not pleasant. However, it was cool away from the sun, and it was a relief to be out of the car. They mooched around in the gloom. The warehouse windows had been boarded up, and the only light came from the entrance that they had driven through. Random wires protruded from the walls and broken light bulbs hung above dark doorways.

  Eric walked past some wooden crates; towards the entrance they had come through and said, “I’m going for a pee.”

  While he was gone, Alexander paced up and down, biting his nails and looking at the others. Sasha didn’t move from the passenger seat. She was examining the wound in her thigh as blood continued to pour down her leg. Ursula looked across at her but didn’t care. She was more concerned that her grandparents were still with the OSS. She walked towards the crates and leant against them. Her head dropped against the splintered wood, and she felt defeated. She had expected to be with her grandparents, and after being so close she suddenly felt a huge hole where they should have been. Eric came back inside, walked behind her and sat next to a pile of bricks in the corner of the warehouse.