by Paul Rice
None of George’s audience had spoken, the information he had imparted was still seeping into their heads. Jane was tapping the floor with her heels – eyes focused on some far away spot. Mike was looking at the machine with a blank expression on his face. Ken was kind of wishing he still smoked. “I could murder one right about now. Bloody dead kids and organ donors…” He wasn’t too sure he’d made the right choice after all. In fact, he couldn’t actually remember saying ‘yes’ to any of this? His thoughts were interrupted by George’s closing sentence.
“Yes, well then… have a good look and make your decision as soon as possible, please. I am afraid there won’t be much time for reconnaissance and things. So, if you decide to help then your decision will be needed immediately, we have no time to waste.” With a shimmer, the screen did its disappearing act once more. They sat in silence for a while, each contemplating the words they had just heard, and also the look on the old man’s face. He had looked worried, somehow.
Jane suddenly said, “We didn’t ask him about Peters… I guess this has taken priority?” Ken nodded and the silence continued for a while. As soon as the lights on the Communicator had stopped their flashing, Mike instructed the machine to play the information, which George had embedded into its data banks. It took fifteen minutes for them to receive the story of a certain James McBride. Fifteen minutes to watch the selfish actions that would see one of the Council’s ‘Chosen Ones’ fail to cross the starting line, never mind step up onto the victory podium. They watched as an array of images paraded across the screen in front of them again: McBride’s habits, places of residence, favourite haunts and even the colour of his office chair, were all shown to them. Everything about the dark haired city slicker was laid bare before their eyes. Ken reckoned that George and his friends would have been an irreplaceable asset to any Private Investigator here on Earth. If only their number were in the Yellow Pages. When the trio had finally been shown everything about McBride, they were then given an insight into the small boy, one on whose behalf they would all soon have to make some serious decisions. The child smiled up at the camera. His gaze almost looked through them with its grey eyed intensity. His was a look that could see for miles.
“Joseph Johnson. Aged two years and seven months: Future Chief Executive of United World Power. Deceased in forty three day, cause: Heart and lung failure. Johnson will be responsible for uniting World Superpowers in the fight against power poverty. He will become Chief Executive of ‘Trans-Global Hydro-Transmitters’ aged thirty four.”
Ken waited until the show had stopped before speaking. “They don’t miss much, do they?” He turned to the others and said, “Well, what do you reckon then, are we a goer on this or what?” Really, Ken had already made up his mind: “McBride was a bastard.” As it turned out, he wasn’t alone in his opinions. Jane and Mike both agreed when Ken said that it was unfortunate, but it looked as though the donor child was going to die anyway? Of that George had been certain, and there would be nothing they could do about it. However, they could help to ensure young Joseph got the start he deserved. Ken also said, “Basically, if it wasn’t for McBride then Joe would be getting this help anyway, that’s the way I’m reading it, and to be honest, I think we need to be careful here, it’s like Mike said at the start of all this: we’re either in or we’re not? If we start getting involved in every angle and looking at ethics and stuff, well then, we’re gonna end up in a world of shit!” Ken shrugged and looked at them. “Trust me – I just had some of my own serious doubts about five minutes ago.” His words made sense.
“I vote that we just get on with it, I don’t know about you, but I trust George, I don’t really know why, but I just do?” Jane said as she stood up, walked over to the window and looked out into the garden.
Mike concurred. Five minutes later they watched as he sent a message to George via the keypad that slid out of his machine. George’s written reply was even shorter than the previous, verbal briefing. “Go immediately. Ensure you use the aerosol device. He must inhale it. Read the instructions on your mission carefully as you travel.” The message ended with: “Good luck! George.”
With nothing further to discuss, they disappeared to their rooms and quickly slipped the black suits under their clothes. Once back in the kitchen, they swallowed a bluey and then picked up their gear. After they locked the house the three of them briskly walked over to the barn. Ken had the case in his hand and as soon as they had slid the barn door closed, he placed the red container on the floor, zapped the case and when it had enlarged, bent forward to undo it. He took the Spear out and laid it on the floor before handing out the other equipment to Jane and Mike. The aerosols were given a good shake and left to one side for the time being. Gathering everything up, they waited until Ken had zapped the Spear and then hurriedly loaded their equipment into the large vehicle. Checking they had not forgotten anything, Ken picked up the spray cans, climbed into the Spear and closed the door behind him. Just before they set off, Ken leaned over and gave Mike a pair of his old leather combat gloves and slipped a second pair over his own hands. “Just in case, you know… I don’t want my fingerprints all over the place, I meant to bring the gloves the other day, but I forgot?”
Mike nodded. “I’ll put mine on when I’ve finished messing about with this thing?” He said, looking at the dashboard in front of him. He passed the latest disc to Jane and she slid it into the reader before calling for her seatbelts. Once buckled up, they waited in silence whilst the information on the disc was processed and then sat back to watch as it streamed onto the screen in front of them. Ken figured out the controls in the rear and managed to get the picture to play on a small screen that lay on the back of the headrest behind Jane. He sat back and waited for Mike to do his magic with all the wizardry in the front. His friend tapped busily away at some buttons and before long they had all the information they needed: timings, location, a good idea of where their target would be and, more importantly, when he would be there. Looking at the map they decided upon their destination.
There was an old railway embankment, but it lay over ten miles away from McBride’s home address. Mike, unsuccessfully, spent some time in searching for somewhere else nearer to their target. “Sorry guys, but we’re not picking up anything closer, we’ve got to make sure we have a good arrival point and this is the one the Navigator refers us to.” In the search for more information, he leaned forward and tapped the screen with his finger. Without any hesitation the machine gave him what he requested and as they watched, an immaculately detailed view of the area flooded onto the screen, it was as though their own personal camera crew were already on the ground, beaming back the shots they required. The railway, which had long since become derelict, snaked its way through countryside on top of the raised embankment alongside a canal; most of the old line looked to be overgrown and the toothless gaps where the wooden sleepers had been stolen, stood out in perfect clarity on the screen in front of the trio. There was also a convenient underpass that opened onto another small dirt track leading away from the main road, to the east, and then coming to a dead end by the side of, what appeared to be, a small fishing pond, its shiny pool of water laying about four hundred yards to the west. Making the screen zoom in, Mike adjusted the view so they were able see into the disused underpass. Apart from the remains of an old fire, the pre-war brick structure was deserted. Panning the view out and then rotating it through a complete circle, Mike’s actions gave them a good overview of the surrounding area. The three cows that stood grazing in a neighbouring field were the only living beings that could be seen within the immediate vicinity.
“OK, that looks good enough to me, let’s just get there and see what happens next, yeah?” Ken said, then sat back and closed his eyes. In agreement, Jane started the engine whilst Mike waited for the black tray to emerge. As it did so, the display flashed and they watched as the standard question jumped onto the screen. ‘Transfer to destination. Are you...’ Mike never waited for the qu
estion to finish before he pushed the button. Shortly afterwards, when they had finished marvelling at the size of the underpass, they resumed their preferred size and then waited whilst the uncomfortable wooziness in their heads had subsided. The Heifers in the field across the way were the only living things that paid any attention to them, and that was only in the form of a lazy, cud chewing stare.
“OK, ready when you are, Jane.” Mike pointed to the blue arrow, “Follow the leader please…” He smiled and watched the screen as she manoeuvred forward between the walls of the underpass. Jane gently eased the Spear out from the small tunnel and turned left. Ken checked their surroundings as they passed under the trees growing on the crest of the old embankment. They were alone and unseen as they progressed towards the main road to their east. Once properly underway on that road, they listened as Mike read out the detailed instructions from the smaller screen: “McBride is to be sprayed in the face and kidnapped. Just here, outside this shop, we’re to ensure he is unconscious and then drive him to this place.” He looked at the screen and pointed to the spot. A small red triangle blinked in the recess of a wood. Continuing, he said, “Once there, we are to leave him in the car. The contents of the aerosol will take care of the rest…”
“What then?” Ken said, as he looked at the scenery rushing by. Jane had turned on to the motorway and was now pushing on at a good pace. “Do we just leave him to it?”
The Australian shook his head. “Not quite, we are to stay and observe him until he regains consciousness, and then follow him to the office block. It says here that he usually parks in the underground car park.” Mike scrolled through the notes. “I’m just looking for any back up plans. What happens if the spray doesn’t do what it’s meant to?” After a while he gave up and said, “Nothing there at all, they must be pretty confident in the stuff?” He shrugged and quickly read through the rest of the notes. Closing the small screen, he finally said, “Yeah, basically folks, that’s it. We just have to wait outside until we get a shout from George. I don’t know what McBride will do, but whatever it is, they seem pretty sure that it will be enough?” He turned to watch the navigator’s instructions.
They flowed through the heavy traffic for a while and made small talk whilst Jane kept them moving serenely in amongst the other vehicles. Ken reminded her: “Keep us nice and anonymous, we don’t really want to get pulled by the Cops if we can help it, hun.” He looked at his watch. “What time are we going to meet this guy?”
“According to this, we have thirty eight minutes?” Mike said and pointed to the blue digits busily counting down under the symbol indicating McBride’s residence. “I reckon we will just about make it on time?” Sure enough, there was slightly over five minutes showing on the timer when they finally pulled up across the street. The tall block of apartments, which housed McBride in luxury, stood proudly amongst its equally expensive neighbours. They stayed in the vehicle and Ken made sure they kept an eye out for any traffic wardens.
“If one comes along, then pull out and we’ll find somewhere else, OK Jane? We don’t want a ticket and I don’t want to get my mug on any CCTV cameras, either.” He couldn’t see any wardens on their particular street and ultimately his concerns were proved to be unfounded – within minutes the warning buzzer sounded and another red icon flashed up on the screen.
Mike spoke on the machine’s behalf. “Target approaching…”
Jane put the car in gear and they watched as James McBride walked out of the door, crossed the pavement, and waited by the kerb as the silver Mercedes pulled up. Stepping out, the burly driver opened the rear door. “He’s a big fella isn’t he – we don’t have to worry about him I hope?” Ken said. He didn’t fancy rolling around the streets of London with the stocky, flat nosed chauffeur.
Mike grinned at him. “There’s nothing in the notes about it, but I’ll let you do the honours if it comes to that. I’ve much more to lose than you anyway?” He said, and then jokingly preened himself.
“Yeah, dream on pal…”
Ken’s sarcastic reply was cut short by Jane. “Will you two pack it in please, I’m nearly peeing here and you’re messing about! You bloody men!” She wasn’t joking and they got the message.
Ken saw the silver car pull away from the kerb. “He’s moving, let’s go! You got your spray ready, Mike?” He said in a tone that bore no trace of his previous jocularity. Mike raised his left hand and gave the can, which it held, a good shake. They were now three cars behind the Mercedes and Jane hung back slightly, leaving herself enough room to react to any sudden turns their target may make.
“OK, as soon as he pulls over at the store, try and get in behind him if you can, but not too close. If you can’t, then drop us off, cruise past and wait for us up the street a bit?” Mike instructed her, and then turned to Ken. “You get the driver’s door and I’ll take the front passenger one, OK? I’ll hit him with the spray, but make sure yours is handy too, in case I mess it up!”
“Roger that – it’s right here in my pocket. Just don’t spray any of that shit on me, Mike!” Ken pulled a face, and then cursed as another thought hit him. “Shit! What do we do if the driver doesn’t leave the keys in the ignition?” He suddenly realised they may well have a major drama on their hands. Mike turned calmly to him and asked for the zapper, which Ken had used for the Spears. Ken passed it to him with a bemused look upon his face. The look soon changed to one of amazement as Mike flicked open the front cover on the key fob. Ken undid his seatbelt and leaned forward to watch as Mike pushed down on the small arrow. Normally the operation of that particular button would see the Spear doing its amazing Shrink Down trick. However, with the cover removed all that happened was a thin wedge of green light started to project by about three inches from the end of the device. Ken reached forward and touched it with his finger tip. It wasn’t contained in anything and all he felt was a faint tingle as the strange light shone onto his skin. “What the hell is that?” He looked at Mike in bafflement.
Mike grinned like a madman. “This, my old friend, is a master key. The master key, apparently…” He was about to explain the intricacies of the key to Ken, when Jane spoke again, and her tone was urgent. She had been watching the Mercedes carefully and noticed its left indicator starting to flash.
“Guys… it looks like he’s pulling over!” She saw the car starting to manoeuvre its way through the traffic. Looking ahead for its possible destination, Jane glimpsed the flashing shop sign. “This is definitely it, there’s the shop! It’s the one from George’s briefing.” She pre-empted the other car’s movements and pushed over to the left side of the road. The movement caused a black taxi to honk irritably behind her. Ignoring it, she gained access to the left lane and pulled up behind a delivery van. The driver was in the process of sliding its side door shut and he waved at her in a gesture which said he was about to leave. Jane waited until he pulled out and then parallel parked next to the pavement.
“Perfect, they’re just parking now – nicely done!” Ken said, as he squeezed her upper arm and then stepped out of the Spear.
Mike followed him, turning to Jane before he shut the door, he said: “Keep an eye on us, if anything starts to go wrong then just give the horn a blast, OK? Otherwise wait until we move off and then overtake us as soon as you can, we need to follow you to the next point.” As she nodded he closed the door and walked around the front of the X6 to join Ken, who was waiting on the pavement.
He looked at Mike, then turned and walked slowly towards the silver car. He saw a group of youths eyeing up Charlie as he entered the store. “I wouldn’t bother, boys,” he thought, as he looked at the chauffeur towering over them. “He’ll tear your weedy little arms off!” As if in acknowledgement of Ken’s thoughts, the gang turned and wandered off up the street - one of them kicking an empty can that clanked loudly as it bounced off the iron fence railings. Ken heard their laughter float down towards him. He also noticed the steam wafting from the cars exhaust pipe. It was the only thing
he needed to see. The last doubt was gone. Ice-cold adrenaline filled his chest and knowing the time was right, he hissed: “Now, Mike – let’s go!”
They both opened their pace and strode towards the Mercedes. Ken crossed behind the car and headed for the driver’s side. After a quick glance at the shop doorway, he reached down and opened the door and glanced into the back seat area. McBride looked up at him and then jumped in surprise when the expected Charlie was nowhere to be seen. Eyes wide with anger he sat forward and said, “Excuse me but what the f...” Mike opened the passenger door, his movement caused the angry McBride to swivel his eyes away from Ken. Just as McBride was about to say something else, Mike sprayed him with the silver can. The practice they had done paid dividends – Mike’s aim and timing were impeccable. The smallest of squirts was all it took, a fine carpet of the vapour landed straight on McBride’s upturned face, Ken watched as the tiny, energy filled droplets began igniting on his skin. As the spray made contact with him, McBride gasped loudly and his eyes widened alarmingly, as they watched, his attackers saw a trail of the deadly droplets waft straight into his open mouth. Ken would never forget the weird sight of the miniscule lightning flashes as they erupted on the surface of the man’s tongue, their ignition illuminating his white teeth like tiny strobe lights firing inside his mouth. McBride went rigid for a second or two, fear and realisation rolled across his face, and then with his eyes wide open he stiffened and toppled sideways onto the armrest next to him. It took only seconds and the job was complete. Ken slid into the driver’s seat, snicked the car into gear and pulled out into the evening rush hour traffic.
