Bodyguard_Fugitive

by Chris Bradford

  Charley wheeled her chair along, her jaw set and her eyes fixed on Amir. Their friend gave them both a nervous smile as they drew ever nearer. Connor wanted to run, but didn’t dare give the guards cause to open fire or the Director the satisfaction that he was panicking. Surely she wasn’t simply letting them go free. But, with every step further along the Sky Walk, Connor’s expectation and hopes grew.

  They were over the halfway mark when the Director called out, ‘That’s far enough.’ But Connor and Charley kept going, too eager to escape. ‘I said, that’s far enough!’

  This time Charley was forced to an abrupt halt, her arms locking out against her will. Connor stopped too, glancing back to see the Director with the neuro-controller in her grasp. A flicker of fear passed across Charley’s face at being hijacked once again.

  The Director, having made her point that she was still ultimately in control, released Charley, then demanded, ‘Now the drive.’

  Connor felt dangerously exposed in the middle of the Sky Walk. He and Charley were in no-man’s-land. Amir may have negotiated their release, but they were far from free yet.

  Amir wet his lips nervously, a bead of sweat running off his brow. ‘I’ll give you the drive once you tell us where the hostages are being held.’

  The Director narrowed her eyes. ‘That wasn’t part of the deal.’

  Amir waved his smartphone, his thumb primed over the screen like a grenade pin. ‘Do you really want the Chinese government knowing Liu Yan actually works for you?’

  The Director sneered. ‘He’s not the only government stooge in our pay.’

  ‘Fine,’ Amir replied. ‘But are you sure you want Russia knowing that you tried to take control of their country by installing a puppet leader?’

  ‘And we would have succeeded if it wasn’t for Connor’s interference.’ The Director glared at Connor.

  ‘Or that you stole over fifty million dollars’ worth of diamonds straight from under President Rawasa’s nose in Burundi?’ continued Amir.

  ‘It was a hundred million,’ she corrected. ‘And what do I care about a tinpot leader from a third-world country?’

  ‘How about a first-world country then?’ said Amir, his thumb still hovering over the button. ‘I’m sure the American President would love to know that you were the one responsible for attempting to kidnap his daughter. I hear the United States’ Navy SEAL team are experts in kill-or-capture operations.’

  ‘This is getting tedious,’ snapped the Director.

  ‘Then tell us the location of the hostages,’ said Amir.

  The Director scowled at him. ‘You drive a hard bargain, young man.’ She nodded at Mr Grey.

  Through gritted teeth the assassin said, ‘They’re on the MV Halcyon. Shipping container CSQU8463725.’

  ‘Now where’s the drive?’ demanded the Director, growing ever more impatient.

  Connor shook his head vehemently at Amir. ‘We need to get out of here first!’ he hissed.

  Amir gave an apologetic shrug. ‘A deal’s a deal. Besides, there’s no other way to do this.’ He spoke into his throat mic. ‘Zhen, send up the drive.’

  A tense sixty seconds ticked by as everyone waited for the flash drive to arrive. Connor’s eyes darted around, assessing their escape routes. As soon as the Director had the drive, he realized they’d be executed on the spot. There were the exits through which the phoney tourists had departed. But Connor didn’t fancy racing down over two thousand, seven hundred steps to reach street level and, as able as Charley was with her chair, a hundred flights of stairs was too much of a challenge even for her to negotiate. The only realistic option was the lift. All of a sudden Amir’s choice of location seemed even more foolhardy. What had his friend been thinking?

  The Director tapped her foot impatiently. Mr Grey stood stone still, his very lack of motion more threatening than any movement, like a cobra primed to strike. Then the lift behind them pinged and its doors slid open to reveal a tiny flash drive in the middle of the floor. The Director clicked her fingers, ordering one of the guards to retrieve it.

  ‘How do I know this is the real drive?’ she asked, inspecting the device in her hand.

  ‘Check it for yourself,’ suggested Amir.

  Connor began wheeling Charley down the Sky Walk towards Amir. But now the neuro-controller was no longer hijacking her system she soon took over and they both raced for the exit.

  ‘Let’s go,’ Connor urged Amir, pressing the call button for their own lift.

  Handing Mr Grey the neuro-controller, the Director pulled her tablet from her jacket pocket and wirelessly connected to the drive. A login window appeared. ‘Not so fast!’ she said. ‘A password’s required. What is it?’

  ‘Hercules,’ replied Amir.

  The Director typed the word and a list of folders immediately popped up on her screen. A satisfied grin spread across her face as she inspected a few random files. ‘Well, this appears to be genuine,’ she said, somewhat surprised. ‘You’re clearly a man of your word, Amir. Unfortunately, I’m not. Guards, seize them!’

  ‘But we made a deal!’ Amir protested as her two guards strode down the Sky Walk towards them. Connor stabbed at the call button, willing the lift to appear as a third guard entered via the fire exit. The lift doors opened a moment later – only for them to be greeted by another Equilibrium agent.

  As each and every escape route was blocked by a guard, the Director laughed. ‘Did you really think that a mere child like you could threaten and bring down Equilibrium? An organization that controls governments throughout the world?’

  ‘Yes,’ replied Amir, oddly unfazed by their predicament. ‘Because I assumed that you wanted to keep Equilibrium a secret.’ He pointed out of a window in the Sky Walk where a drone hovered in the night, its lens focused on the Director. ‘Wave to the camera!’

  The Director’s eyes flared with rage.

  ‘Oh, and just in case you’re wondering,’ continued Amir, ‘this whole encounter is being beamed live to everyone on the Bund. So I’d advise against doing anything rash in full view of several thousand witnesses.’ He indicated the towering LED screen on one of Pudong’s skyscrapers. A twenty-storey-high image of the Director’s livid face appeared. Beneath the picture ran a real-time translation of their conversation. ‘So I’d let us go if I were you.’

  The Director rounded on Amir. ‘You still don’t get it, do you?’ she snarled. ‘I own the police! I own Shanghai! I OWN CHINA! I can do whatever I please. I can get away with murder if I want.’

  She stormed into the lift behind her. As the doors closed, she gave Mr Grey and her guards one final command. ‘Shoot the drone. Then shoot them!’

  ‘It was a good plan, Amir,’ said Connor as the three of them were surrounded by Mr Grey and the four guards. He offered his friend a conciliatory smile. ‘Just a shame it didn’t work.’

  ‘The drone was supposed to be our insurance policy,’ Amir replied with a deflated look.

  ‘Well, for what it’s worth, I thought your bluff was pretty impressive,’ said Charley, reversing her chair until she was back to back with Connor and Amir. As the guards closed in on them, she took Connor’s hand and squeezed it tight. ‘If we’re to die, Connor,’ she whispered, ‘at least we’re together.’

  Connor clasped her hand even tighter. ‘And always will be.’

  ‘Ahhh, young love,’ said Mr Grey in a sickly-sweet tone. His upper lip curled in disdain. ‘Only leads to heartbreak.’ In one swift and sudden action the assassin drew his gun.

  ‘No!’ cried Connor, but was too late to stop him pulling the trigger. The gunshot echoed through the Sky Walk, loud as thunder. On instinct Connor threw himself across Charley. But Mr Grey hadn’t been aiming at her. The bullet pierced a side window instead and obliterated the drone. Its rotors shattered, the drone spiralled out of control and dropped from the sky like a dead bird.

  ‘I don’t like an audience,’ said Mr Grey as the wind whistled through the hole in the window, cracks fan
ning out like a spider’s web in the glass. He eyed Connor sprawled across Charley. ‘How valiant of you to want to protect your sweetheart. Unfortunately, no human shield will save her … or Amir … or you.’

  The assassin planted the cold hard tip of the barrel against Connor’s forehead, forcing him to stand. Connor glared at the ashen-faced assassin – the killer who’d murdered Colonel Black, tortured Charley and been the bane of his existence ever since he’d joined Buddyguard. Mr Grey had haunted his missions, at first at the fringes, then circling ever closer like some flesh-eating vulture. Looking into his glacial eyes, Connor could see no trace of humanity. Only darkness. There would be no point in pleading or appealing to this man’s better nature. For he had none. He was the devil incarnate.

  Mr Grey barked an order in Chinese at the guards. Two of them now drew their handguns and fixed their sights on Charley and Amir.

  ‘I had wanted to extract my pound of flesh from you, Connor,’ said Mr Grey. ‘Repay you for shooting me in Russia. But you’ve become somewhat tiresome. So a simple execution will suffice.’

  ‘Go to hell!’ spat Connor.

  Mr Grey smiled. ‘I expect I will.’ He glanced round at the heady view, the city lights glimmering below like jewels in a mine. ‘At least dying this high up, you’re part way to heaven.’ He cocked his gun. ‘Any last requests?’

  ‘Yes!’ Amir begged, clasping his hands together in supplication. ‘Allow us a final prayer.’

  Mr Grey rolled his eyes, then sighed. ‘If you must.’

  Amir turned to face Connor and Charley. They formed a tight circle, a final bond of friendship, amid the ring of Equilibrium guards. ‘Bow your heads and close your eyes,’ said Amir softly.

  Connor did as his friend asked, putting his hands together in prayer. He hadn’t taken Amir to be the religious type, but in these last moments of life he could understand anyone wanting spiritual comfort.

  ‘Almighty Lord, hear our prayers …’ began Amir, then added in a whisper that was barely a breath. ‘Cover your ears!’

  Connor and Charley had but a second to do so before the doors to the nearest lift pinged open and a black tube rolled out on to the Sky Walk. The guards were given no time to react, the stun grenade detonating only a few metres from them. The flash was like a blinding supernova in the night, visible even from the Bund over one and a half kilometres away. The ear-splitting bang reverberated through the enclosed corridor of the Sky Walk, amplifying its effects so that even Connor’s covered ears rang. This was followed by a blast wave that almost knocked everyone off their feet, and Connor was left momentarily stunned as if he’d been punched in the face.

  The guards reeled from the unexpected attack, staggering around like drunks, their senses blown. Charley was the first to recover and react. She yanked her chair’s armrests free and smashed the gun out of the nearest guard’s grip. Hooking his ankle, she then swept him off balance and struck him in the chest as he fell. The guard hit the floor, cracking his skull on the glass and knocking himself out cold.

  Next Amir thrust his iStun into the side of the other armed guard. Already disorientated and dazed, the man convulsed, dropped his weapon and slumped to the ground.

  Charley and Amir then turned to the other two guards. Blinking like moles in the light, their sight blurred, the men drew extendable batons to fend off the advancing teenage bodyguards. They swiped wildly, Amir ducking then thrusting with his iStun while Charley blocked the attacks, her metal armrests clanging with each deflection.

  Of all the Equilibrium agents, Mr Grey appeared least affected by the stun grenade. With reactions as quick as a snake’s, he’d shielded his eyes and after a few seconds shrugged off the disabling effects of the blast. Discovering the guards in disarray and in retreat, he raised his gun to shoot Amir in the back.

  But Connor leapt on him, grabbing his arm and wrestling for control of the weapon. Surprise working to his advantage, Connor managed to force the gun down. But Mr Grey’s finger was still on the trigger and the gun kicked, letting off a shot. The bullet barely missed Connor’s right thigh before drilling a hole through the glazed pane at his feet. Fractures spidered out like veins in the glass.

  Mr Grey glared at Connor. ‘I hate wasting bullets!’

  As the two of them battled over the weapon, Connor heard his combat instructor’s voice in his head, urging him from the grave to Seize, Strike and Subdue! Connor tried to summon up his qi to punch the assassin, but it took all his strength and concentration just to keep hold of the weapon. He managed to get in a couple of elbow strikes. But Mr Grey was like hardened steel, every strike failing to leave even a dent in him. Despite Connor’s furious determination, the assassin’s gun hand slowly yet steadily rose up again. This time the barrel’s sights fixed on Charley as she fought off her guard.

  Mr Grey leered at Connor. ‘Do you want to pull the trigger? Or shall I?’

  Connor roared in rage and redoubled his efforts to overcome the assassin. However, Mr Grey, skilled in weapon retention, defeated any attempts to rip the gun from his grasp. Connor made a last-ditch attempt, wrenching hard on his arm –

  There was a deafening bang as the weapon went off. The round struck Charley dead centre in the back. Connor watched in horror as she bucked from the impact. The guard took advantage of her pain and hit her across the shoulder with his baton. Charley cried out and almost dropped her tonfa-armrest. But she hadn’t been mortally wounded by the bullet, her wheelchair’s Kevlar panel having protected her from the round. But she was weakened by the two blows and was now in retreat from the guard.

  ‘Looks like we need a head shot,’ said Mr Grey as he realigned the weapon’s sights.

  Connor knew it was only a matter of time before the man hit his mark. Risking everything, he let go of the gun. Even Mr Grey was taken aback at this tactic. And in that split-second moment of distraction Connor drove his fingertips like a dagger into the assassin’s chest, targeting the exact point between the pectoral muscles that Lăolao had shown him.

  The Demon Gate.

  It couldn’t be a more appropriately named qi point for the assassin. The sudden and debilitating shock of the strike sent Mr Grey lurching backwards. All strength draining from him, the gun grew super-heavy in his hands and he sank to his knees.

  ‘What … have … you … done to me?’ he gasped, his eyes bulging.

  Connor grinned. ‘Oh, it’s just a little trick I learnt from an old grandmother. Effective, isn’t –’

  But Connor didn’t get to finish his sentence. The glass pane beneath his feet suddenly disintegrated and he dropped like a stone through the Sky Walk.

  The wind whistled, chill and sharp, its gusts pulling at Connor like claws. He swung precariously over the abyss, clinging on for dear life as shards of glass spun and sparkled into the city’s night. The glazing, weakened by the bullet, had given way under his weight. On pure instinct alone his hands had reached out and caught the lip of the frame, preventing him from plunging to certain death. Now he hung, small and fragile as a fruit bat, from the underbelly of the Sky Walk.

  ‘CHARLEY!’ he screamed at the top of his lungs.

  Mid-fight she glanced his way, but didn’t see him at first. Then she looked down and stared in horror at his terrifying predicament. Seizing upon her distraction, the guard swung his baton at her head. At the last second Charley ducked, but she still caught a glancing blow. Then, with the fury of an avenging angel, she laid into the guard, her tonfa-style armrests becoming a blur of steel.

  But all the while Connor felt his grip slipping …

  He looked to Amir, but his friend was in serious trouble himself. The other guard had him pinned against the wall, throttling him with his baton. Amir gasped and spluttered, his eyeballs bulging and his fingers clawing at the man’s face.

  Mr Grey, kneeling close by, watched the chaotic scene with blithe amusement. ‘I would help you, Connor, but I’m a little incapacitated at the moment.’

  Connor thought the only help
the assassin would give him would be to help him on his way. So, muscles straining and pulse pounding, Connor tried to pull himself back into the Sky Walk. The glass gave him little purchase and the sweat on his fingertips only added an unwanted slickness to his grip. He cried out in horror as he lost hold with one hand and dangled by a single arm in the darkness. Like a leaf waiting for a final gust to blow it off the branch, Connor clung on.

  The ache in his muscles grew unbearable and his grip weakened with every passing second. He knew in his heart that he was going to fall, that he would plummet to certain death – either on to the observation deck below or all one hundred floors straight down to the concrete paving of the street …

  Then he heard a dull thunk and a guard’s bruised face appeared in a nearby pane, his features squished against the glass. A second later Charley skidded to a halt by the hole, locked out her brakes and reached down with the end of her armrest.

  ‘Grab hold!’ she cried.

  Connor seized the metal tube with his free hand and began to pull himself up. Charley, teeth gritted and muscles straining like the cords of a rope, took all of Connor’s bodyweight. Slowly but surely, Connor worked his way back into the Sky Walk. But, as soon as he laid an arm on the floor, Charley kicked him in the face!

  Connor reeled and almost dropped back through the floor. Charley then stamped on his hand. Connor gasped in pain and shock.

  ‘NO!’ she cried, her eyes wide with panic as Connor struggled to keep a grip. ‘It’s not me!’

  Glancing sideways, Connor spotted Mr Grey with the neuro-controller in his hand. A cruel smile cut across his lips. ‘Oh dear, Connor, your saviour has just become your executioner!’

  The assassin pressed the controller’s display panel and Charley’s leg began to rise.

  ‘You will not control me!’ yelled Charley fiercely. Her face contorted into a knot of furious concentration as her foot went to stamp on Connor’s hand again.