The noise gets louder and the others hear it too.
Clark looks up. “Is that…?”
“I reckon so,” I say.
“What is it?” asks Tori.
“There’s a helicopter approaching,” I say. “How long have we been on the road? Anyone?”
“I’d say no longer than fifteen minutes,” offers Josh.
“This type of truck is designed for long haul transfers. If we were only going a few miles, we’d have been moved in the same type of van we were brought in.”
“What does this mean?” asks Raynor.
“It means, I doubt very much we’re being switched to a helicopter this far into the journey,” I explain. “It’s getting closer, so it makes sense to be on an intercept course with us, but whoever it is isn’t here to move us anywhere.”
“So what do they want?” asks Clark.
I shrug. “I imagine we’ll find out soon enough,” I say, sitting back and trying to relax.
Sure enough, after another couple of minutes, the truck brakes sharply, and we screech to a halt. I hear both doors of the cab open, and boots drop to the ground, followed by faint sound of raised voices over the loud whirring sound of helicopter blades.
There’s nothing for a few moments, then the whirring gets louder as the chopper takes off and flies away. Silence descends, and everyone exchanges concerned glances.
Then the back door unlocks and opens, and we see Special Agent Tom Wallis standing there, holding a set of keys.
“I swear to God, this is the dumbest thing I’ve ever done!” he says as he steps inside and starts unlocking our cuffs.
“What the hell?” asks Josh.
“Long story,” he says. “I asked Freeman to contact the CIA office that you were taken to, to make sure you were okay. He told me they told him you’d been questioned, admitted your guilt, and were en route to a secure facility to be processed.”
“That’s bullshit,” I say.
“I figured. I got an FBI chopper to fly me to the CIA building, and from there, we covered a ten mile radius until we found you.”
“What happened to the driver?” asks Tori.
“Him and his friend are outside on the ground, knocked out.”
He frees the last of us, and we pile out onto the street.
“Where are we?” I ask.
“Just outside of Jacksonville, Florida,” says Wallis.
I look around. The sun’s rising, and there’s already a warm breeze blowing.
“How long since we were taken from ComForce’s building?” I ask.
Wallis frowns at the question.
“It’s been a disorienting few hours,” I explain.
“Ah, right.” He checks his watch. “Maybe eighteen hours in total.”
I look at Josh. “We’re… what? Five hours from Atlanta?”
He nods. “Easily.”
“Shit. Okay, first two cars we see, we take — no questions asked. Wallis, I’m really grateful for you sticking your neck out for us like this. I can’t ask you to do it anymore. I don’t expect you to come with us…”
He waves his hand to dismiss my concerns. “I’m already in way over my head,” he says. “If I go back now, I’ll definitely lose my badge and probably my freedom. At least with you guys, I can do something good before I lose everything. I’m in.”
I stare down the road and see a car approaching.
“Well, you’ve not lost that badge yet,” I say, pointing to the car. “Use it.”
Wallis flags the car down and feeds the poor driver the standard line about it being official government business, and the FBI appreciating his co-operation. He then holds the driver’s door open as they climb out and looks at me.
“You take this one,” he says. “I’ll flag another for the rest of us.”
I nod. “Okay. Tori, John, you’re with me — get in.” Raynor slides in behind the wheel and Tori climbs in the back. I turn to the owner of the car. “Sorry, but I need your cell phone.”
The guy hesitates for a second, but takes another look at the FBI badge and sighs, handing it over. I turn to Josh. “I’ll call you on Wallis’ cell if I need you. I doubt you’ll be too far behind us, anyway. You and Clark figure out a way to stop Cerberus being hacked, let Wallis do the driving.”
He holds his hand out, and I shake it.
“This time,” he says.
I nod. “This time.”
I turn and get into the passenger side of our newly acquired four-door saloon car, and Raynor guns the engine and spins us round. We speed off toward Atlanta, and the ComForce building, for the second time in twenty-four hours. The CIA will soon get word we’ve escaped, so they won’t be far behind. The FBI will be on the hunt for Wallis, so they’ll be on our tail as well. We need to be quick and lucky, if we’re to get there in time.
“So what’s the plan, assuming we reach Atlanta without being arrested again?” asks Raynor.
“I’ll tell you when we get to Atlanta,” I say.
Truth is I actually do have a plan this time. Or, at least, the beginnings of one. Which is a lot more than I normally allow myself to have when I’m preparing for a fight. But I don’t want to share it in case we get caught. Plausible deniability, I think the politicians call it. If anyone asks, they can tell the truth and say they had no idea why we were heading to Atlanta. It’s better for them.
Problem I have now is that I have no weapons. I’ve lost both my Berettas, which I’m pissed about, and Raynor’s lost his gun, too, so we’re unarmed and driving full speed to launch an arguably futile attack on a terrorist network…
Retirement’s more stressful than when I was an assassin.
I place the borrowed cell phone into the hands-free kit and dial Josh’s number. Unfortunately, I’m not the best when it comes to technology — I thought I pressed dial, but for some reason I’ve managed to turn the radio on.
“For God’s sake…” I mutter as I move to turn it off again, but Raynor stops me.
“Hold on,” he says, turning it up.
It’s in the middle of a live news report.
“…have been here for several hours. So far, there are no casualties or demands, but a video has been transmitted to local stations showing hostages on the sixteenth floor. For those of you just joining us, we are now in the sixth hour of a siege at an office building in downtown Atlanta, where an unknown number of suspected terrorists have taken control of the ComForce Securities office. Their motivation is unclear, and so far, they have made no demands. Local police have set up a perimeter around the building, and an FBI negotiator and SWAT team arrived on the scene a couple of hours ago. More on this breaking news story as it happens.”
Raynor flicks the radio off and looks at me.
“We’re too late,” he says. “They’ve taken the building.”
Overcome by an inexplicable rage that I’ve not felt in a long time, I let out a guttural scream, thumping my fist on the dashboard.
“Fuck!”
Behind me, Tori squeals as she jumps in shock. Raynor raises an eyebrow and looks ahead, leaving me to my frustration. It subsides as quickly as it came, and I start thinking rationally again.
“No way is this over,” I say, dialing Josh’s number again. “Not after everything we’ve been through.”
I try calling Josh again, and it works this time — the ringing sounding out over the speaker system in the car.
“Have you heard the news report?” I ask as the call’s answered.
“No, what’s happened?” replies Josh.
“They’ve taken the ComForce building. As of six hours ago.”
“Shit!”
“We’re easily three hours out still. How long would it take them to gain control of the satellite?”
“Jesus, I don’t know, Adrian… they’ve got to get access, then use it to control our nukes, then launch them… assuming that’s what they want to do. If they’re trying to hack someone else’s, it’ll take longer, but—”