by A. D. Winch
Agent Cairn looked at the chaotic street scene from the calm of a shop front with a sense of dread. He crouched down, picked up the large sheet and began to collect it up as quickly as he could. Soon he had a rapidly expanding pile of red material beside him and a street returning to normality.
“They’re on the roof,” Hoover told Team Col. “They’re on the roof to the North of your location.”
Hoover pointed Agent Angel towards the screen, and he smiled broadly.
“So, let me get this straight, John,” Agent Angel spoke slowly. “In return for you handing over my data, Black Queen, White King, the others and Nastya, you want me to say that you were working undercover for me? And then let you retire in peace? Erm, I think that can be arranged, but obviously there will be a few points we will have to iron out, for example…”
Agent Cairn was in the process of sending four agents to the roof when Black Queen and White King appeared at each end of the street. Instantly, he reassigned Agents Brae and Crag to apprehend them. The children ran off, and the Agents followed. In a matter of seconds, they were all out of sight.
Agents Lip and Peak were trying to find a way to get to the roof. After flashing a weapon at the shopkeeper in the leather waistcoat, they were allowed through the door at the back of his shop. A dark staircase lay behind it, and they sprinted up to the roof top.
All the red material had been collected, and the street looked as if nothing had happened. People moved on, and the rug carriers walked away. There on the rug was an unconscious woman. The Benjamins had vanished.
The woman’s face was covered in blood, as was her leg. The little clothing she wore had been ripped and left nothing to the imagination. In spite of the state of her, Agent Cairn recognized the Russian agent from a past briefing. He ran towards her with Oakley and the soldier as a female shopper screamed.
“Get her back to the Yukon,” he ordered, pulling the memory stick from around her neck.
The soldier picked her up, and Oakley led them quickly away.
Agent Cairn sprinted between the shop fronts and looked inside. On the other side of the street, Agent Scree did the same. They sent rugs flying, opened doors at the back of shops but could see no one.
“They must be on the roof,” Agent Cairn said. “We’ll wait here and guard the two remaining exit points.” He stepped under the archway and placed his finger on his ear. “The Benjamins are...”
He didn’t finish his sentence. In front of him, he watched as Agent Scree suddenly collapsed on the ground. White King stepped out of the shadows and over Agent Scree’s lifeless body. He was smiling broadly and walked towards Agent Cairn confidently.
Where were Agents Brae and Crag? thought Agent Cairn and raised his gun. As he did so, he felt a prick in his neck. He spun around and saw Black Queen moving away from him nervously with a syringe in her hand. His world started to spin, and he drunkenly swayed towards her. The handgun felt heavy in his hand, and he no longer had the strength to pull the trigger. After two steps, his knees buckled, and he dropped onto the tiles.
Don’t let her escape, he thought as he fought back sleep, but the feeling was too powerful, and he soon collapsed.
“I had a worry that you weren’t going to make it,” Eric confessed as he approached Ursula.
“So did I,” Ursula replied and looked over Eric’s shoulder. An agent appeared under the archway. “Time to go!”
Ursula and Eric sprinted off, with the agent in pursuit. The streets were busy, and it was difficult to move fast continually through the tourists, shoppers and traders. The children weaved through people, and jumped over tables of jewellery but found themselves heading for another agent. He saw them and joined the chase as they nipped down a deserted alley.
Meanwhile, the other two agents had reached the door to the roof. They pulled out their guns and pushed the door open. The roof was flat and washing hung across it on makeshift lines. A small wall enclosed the space, and three teenagers stood beside it overlooking the street below. One was wearing a red cap, another a Sombrero and the last was sweating profusely under a black leather jacket and matching trousers.
Agents Lip and Peak ran towards them. The teenagers were huddled together around something.
As Agent Lip reached them, she heard an old man say, “Bye, Buddy.”
The words came from a yellow walkie-talkie held next to a mobile phone.
The agents pushed the teenagers backwards. As they did so one of them dropped a plate-sized mirror which smashed as it hit the roof and sent shards of glass in all directions.
There was no fighting from the teenagers. It was as if they were expecting the agents, and they handed over the walkie-talkie and phone before they were asked.
“They’re kids!” Agent Peak said. “Targets are not present. I repeat targets are not present.”
They were still holding the teenagers when a number of Moroccan ladies arrived on the roof. Not one of them were smiling, and they walked towards Team Col fearlessly, berating them constantly in a mix of Arabic, Berber and French. None of the agents spoke these languages, but they did understand the word ‘police.' As a covert team, they were failing miserably. They had been set-up and the longer they stayed, the worse it was going to be.
The agents walked back towards the roof door they had come through. Their guns remained in full view, but neither the women nor the teenagers looked worried by them. Even so, the small crowd parted and left them a clear passageway to the door. The agents marched through and off the roof.
When they reached ground level, they collected the unconscious bodies of Agent Cairn and Agent Scree, and hurried back to their vehicles.
The alleyway did not stay empty for long. The children skidded around a corner only to be faced with a donkey and cart blocking their path. Much to the animal’s surprise, Eric jumped over its head; leap frogged over its back and hopped past the cart. Ursula sprang up onto one of the crumbling walls beside the donkey’s ear. She bounced off and on to the other wall, bounced back over the cart and then back onto the ground.
At the end of the alleyway, they ran across a street filled with traders and through a door marked ‘Entrance to the Tanneries.’ A horrible smell lingered in the air, as if someone had mixed the contents of a sewer with some industrial chemicals. The children climbed up a staircase, and the smell got worse. On the first floor, the stairs opened up onto a roof the size of two football pitches. Two floored buildings enclosed the area, preventing any wind from blowing the noxious smell away.
The chasing agents reached the bottom of the stairs, and the children ran off in separate directions above them. Eric sprinted through white, rectangular vats filled with pale liquid that burned his eyes. Ursula hurdled over brown, circular vats filled with browns, greys, yellows, blues and reds. Her eyes were watering and, like Eric, she headed for a staircase beyond the vats.
A shot fired and whizzed past her shoulder. She began to zig-zag, changing her direction randomly and hoping that any further shots missed. There weren’t any, and she reached the staircase before Eric. They took the stairs two at a time and were soon at the highest point of the medina. The agents were still in pursuit.
The children ran across the cream coloured rooftops, leaping over roads three stories below without thinking. The agents did the same; they were not giving up.
“Follow me,” shouted Eric as he skipped onto a roof wall and then jumped into the air.
Ursula did the same, and she landed on a large piece of blue material over a road, a few moments after Eric. It had already begun to sag, and one edge had come away from the wall. They slid down it and before falling off grabbed hold of the flapping end. They hung in the air, and Eric smiled knowingly.
The weight of the hanging children tugged at the nails on the wall. More nails were pulled out. Another metre of material was released, and they dropped towards the street below. The next set of nails did the same, then the next and the next, like a line of dominoes falling from the wall. W
hen the children were only one storey above the ground, the agents jumped on the material too. The remaining nails popped out of the walls as if they had been fired, and everyone fell rapidly.
Eric and Ursula were prepared for their short fall and landed safely on their feet. The agents did not. There was a loud snap as Agent Crag’s leg broke in two, and he lay on the floor moaning. Agent Brae had not broken anything but lay winded and bruised on the cracked concrete.
Shutters in the front doors of people’s houses opened and closed, to see what had happened, but no one ventured out of their homes. The thin road was empty except for the people that had fallen into it.
Agent Crag’s handgun rested against the old walls of a building beside him. He dragged himself towards it, but Ursula was there first and kicked it away.
Agent Brae tried to stand, but Eric jumped on top of him. The agent fought weakly, and Eric took hold of his neck.
“Don’t move,” he ordered and tightened his grip.
Eric held Agent Brae down and found the tiny communication device hidden behind his ear. The agent struggled, but Eric clasped his windpipe until he settled down.
“Hello. This is Eric Meyer. I have a message for Buddy Angel.”
Agent Angel hissed, “White King.”
“I would just like you to know that we are going to vanish forever. It is probably best that you know we made copies of all the OSS data on the memory stick. If you attempt to find us, or if we even think you are nearby, this information will be released.”
“Don’t mess with me!” roared Agent Angel.
Eric smiled victoriously and stood up from the injured agent.
“Let’s go,” Ursula said.
It was time to head to the rendez-vous point.
Agent Buddy Angel had never been so angry. If White King and Schwarzkopf had been beside him, he would have loaded a round of bullets from his gun into their heads. Re-armed, and then proceeded to do the same thing to every part of their bodies until they were no longer recognizable.
There was a rasping breathing behind both Agents. Agent Angel spun around and stormed off towards the noise.
Deep inside him, almost hidden by the anger, was an emotion he had forgotten. At first he didn’t realize and then slowly it grew inside him like a virus. It was something he had not felt for a long time. Agent Buddy Angel was scared.
“This way please, Mr. and Mrs Benjamin,” instructed Andrea, and she led them out of the dark tunnel and into the light.
As soon as their eyes adjusted, Mémé took a good look at Andrea.
“Oh dear,” she said, gazing at the mask covering half of Andrea’s face. “Are you okay, ma cherie?”
“I am fully functional,” Andrea replied. “I will explain later.”
“And your clothes…,” began Mémé, staring at Andrea’s brown leather outfit, “… erm, you look very different.”
“I detect in your voice that you are uncertain.”
“Brown is not your colour, Mademoiselle Duna.”
“It is a temporary measure,” Andrea replied, and she led them through the narrow streets and out of the medina.
“Are Ursula and Eric okay?” asked Mémé as they walked.
“I think they are.”
“Have you found a cure?” Granddad Benjamin asked expectantly.
“It is my understanding that Alexander has a theory. The theory is scientifically sound. I am certain that it will either cure the children or kill them.”
“You need to work on your bedside manner,” muttered Granddad Benjamin under his breath. He smiled and shook his head at the same time.
They arrived at a white minibus. The engine was running, and a Moroccan man was sat behind the wheel. Andrea slid the rear door open for the Benjamins. In the back, were Alexander, Johan, Eric and Ursula.
“Could you dispose of this before we go, Andrea?” requested Johan and handed her a walkie-talkie.
Andrea crushed it under foot, put the remaining pieces in an overflowing bin and then sat beside the driver.
There were hugs, kisses and introductions inside the minibus. Mémé and Granddad Benjamin sat either side of Ursula and held their granddaughter tight.
“We can go now,” Andrea told the man in Arabic, as she sat next to him.
The driver pulled away, and they left the walled-city behind.
Ursula snuggled into Mémé and thought about what Claude had told her about fighting back. She had done just that and was now no longer alone. Silently, she thanked the homeless man who had set her on this path, and who had only asked for a bath in return. She felt home again, but in spite of this something still worried her.
“Eric, why did you tell the OSS we were going to vanish?” she asked.
Eric turned to face her. His eyes had a steely determination, “I wanted to throw them off the scent. We are not going to run and hide forever. For the time being we will fall back, and then when we are ready, we will attack!”
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Please Write a Review
I hope you have enjoyed reading Book 3 in ‘The Adventures of Eric and Ursula’ and will read the remaining book in the series.
If you have enjoyed reading ‘Fallback,' please write a review on the site from which you downloaded a copy. Also please tell all your friends, let people know on twitter and post on your facebook page. I would appreciate this. If you want to read about other books I have written or want information about future releases, please visit my website www.winchad.com. Also, sign up for my monthly newsletter to receive short stories and access other great V.I.P. content on my website.
If you did not enjoy reading ‘Fallback’ then I’m sorry that it wasn’t for you. Well done on finishing it and why not try Book 4. You may prefer it.
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About the Author
I’m the author of ‘The Adventures of Eric and Ursula,’ a series of four exciting books for young adults and beyond.
Originally I'm from the UK. Eighteen years ago, I left England and since then I have lived in Transylvania (close to Dracula's castle), war-torn Sri Lanka and above the Hadron Collider in Geneva. Currently, I live in Prague, not too far from a tower that looks like a space rocket and is covered in giant babies.
I began writing ‘Book 1 - An Extra-Ordinary Beginning’ while waiting for the birth of my son. Funnily enough it took exactly nine months to write. After he was born, this book collected four years of cyber dust on my computer before I rediscovered it. ‘Fallback’ is book three in the series.
Over the last fourteen years, I have written and directed plays for children that have been performed in the UK, Romania, Sri Lanka, Switzerland and Czech Republic.
For an older audience, I wrote the films ‘Seagulls’ and ‘your baby disappeared.' ‘Seagulls’ was shown at the Brighton Film Festival and ‘your baby disappeared’ premiered in Prague in 2011.
When I am not writing I enjoy spending time with my family, cycling, watching movies, listening to comedy and being creative.
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Discover other books by A.D. Winch online
Book 1 – ‘An Extra-Ordinary Beginning’ can be downloaded for free from www.winchad.com, smashwords, amazon and all good online retailers. You can also buy a paperback copy on amazon.
Book 2 – ‘Survival Instinct’ can be downloaded from amazon or you can buy a paperback copy.
Book 4 – ‘As yet untitled’ will be out in Spring 2015. Read a chapter from the exciting new book by going to the Preview of Book 4.
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Connect with me Online
Website www.winchad.com
Twitter @adwinch
Facebook https://www.facebook.com/ad.winch.9
Email [email protected] or [email protected]
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Preview of Book 4
The postman knocked on the door and waited. It was early, but the sun was already up, and the temperature was rapidly rising. Usuall
y, he would not have started his round in Saint-Denis, but he wanted to leave here before most of the residents woke. He knocked again. No one came, and he put his ear to the wood. There was no sound inside the apartment.
In his hand, he held a package that had come from Spain. It had slipped to the bottom of his bag, and over the last two weeks he had ignored it. Inside the package was a small object that slid around. The envelope was addressed to Karim ‘Jason’ Dilem, who, according to the neat script, lived here. He knocked one last time and then walked away. As he reached the end of the corridor, he heard a door opening. A very tall man stepped into the corridor. He wore a pair of Bermuda shorts but nothing else. In spite of the hot summer, he was as pale as a ghost with red spots dotted over his face.
"Hey man, why did you wake me up?" he spoke fast, gesticulating wildly as he did so.
"Letter, Monsieur," the postman replied walking back. "Recording delivery from Spain."
"I don’t know anyone in Spain."
"Are you Karim ‘Jason’ Dilem?"
"Yes," he replied cautiously.
"Then this is for you."
The postman handed the package to Jason and asked him to sign for it.
"It’s a mystery," Jason said absentmindedly.
"Then don’t open it. You’ll spoil the surprise. Au revoir, Monsieur."
"Er, merci."
Jason stepped back into his apartment and closed the door. He trudged through the gloom to his bedroom and fell down on his untidy bed beside the window. The curtains did not quite meet in the middle, and sun streamed through the gap revealing a room strewn with rubbish, a desk and a large computer covered in stickers.
Jason lay on his back and looked at the envelope. It was a mystery. No one ever wrote to him by hand. He knew no one in Spain, and no one had ever used his real name and hacker name in the same place. He decided not to follow the postman’s advice and opened. A USB memory stick fell onto his stomach and came to rest in his belly button. He left it there as he pulled out a letter and began to read.
