Andrew grabbed Simon’s sagging shoulders from behind as the shock of it hit Simon like a lightning bolt. His knees buckled and he started to collapse, but Andrew caught him, held him up. After a silent, steadying moment, they straightened together and pulled Jonathan’s lifeless body from the car, then dragged it back three feet, and loaded it into the back seat, into the place where Samantha had been sitting just moments before.
As they pushed the door shut a black helicopter, silent and menacing, flew overhead-high and fast at the moment, following the underground route of the subway, looking for them but not seeing.
Yet, Simon thought numbly. Not seeing yet. They had closed and locked the gateway and the door to the subway entrance before the black-clad soldiers had come round the bend. He didn’t think there was any way they could have known about their escape route; they should’ve continued down the dimly lit tunnel for at least another mile before they realized that Andrew and Simon and their valuable cargo had disappeared. But he couldn’t know that for sure. They could come surging up out of the underground or roaring down the street at any moment.
Samantha stood far from the Rover, hugging her arms and trying to keep her body from shaking. “What’s happening?” she said in a tiny voice. “What the hell is happening?”
Simon tried to rub the shock away with the heels of both hands in his eyes. Focus, he ordered himself. Focus. Shouting he said, “Hayden. We have to get Hayden in the car!” With a fighter’s discipline, he pushed himself into the driver’s seat and put his hand on the ignition key. “Get in, Sam,” he said harshly. “Right now!”
She didn’t move. She just pressed both hands against her mouth and shook her head, crying.
“Get in, I said! We’ve got to get the fuck out of here!”
Andrew put a hand on her bare arm and felt her flinch. “Get in the front,” he said quietly. “You don’t have to look at him.” He led her gently but insistently around the car. He opened the door for her and helped her inside. She was still trembling. Then he got in the back seat himself, next to Jonathan’s dead body.
The car started moving before Andrew was completely in the car. It didn’t matter; Simon only cruised fifty feet forward and stopped next to the motionless body of Hayden, sprawled on the side of the road near the entrance to the underground.
Andrew jumped out of the car as it stopped just short of Hayden’s body. Samantha turned her head to see what he was doing, then looked back, confused, as Simon exited the car as well. Andrew heard her gasp as he struggled to lift Hayden’s body all by himself.
“Oh my god, is he dead too?” she said, her voice going higher and louder at the end. Andrew noticed lights from the surrounding apartments had started to snap on; a few pedestrians were slowing to watch them, distracted by the commotion.
“No!” Simon said sharply. “He’s not! And you have to help him!” Together, the men maneuvered Hayden’s body into the back seat, shoving him unceremoniously to the middle, next to Jonathan’s corpse.
It’s like a bad dream, Simon thought looking at the grisly tableaux in the back seat.
He pushed away his despair and forced himself back to the driver’s seat, doing his best to ignore the blood-soaked backrest as he got inside. Andrew climbed into the back, far too close to Hayden’s body, looking just as repulsed as Simon.
Still trapped in his paralyzed body, Hayden only gradually became aware of the grotesque scene that was transpiring around him. But as he was manipulated into the back seat of the Rover like an unwieldy corpse, he found that his hearing was not the only sense that was unaffected by the gas; his sense of smell worked perfectly well, too. He knew because it was assaulted by the stink of blood that hung around Jonathan’s body like a cloud. A dead man, he thought frantically. I’m sitting next to a dead man! He tried harder than ever to move his body-any part of it, even a tiny amount-but nothing happened.
The instant Andrew was back in the car, Simon stamped on the accelerator and the car sped away from the curb. They were away from the entrance, away from the little shop, and through the intersection in seconds.
Meanwhile, the black helicopter that had passed far overhead was circling back-lower now, looking even more carefully.
“You think they’re giving up?” Andrew said, craning his neck to watch the chopper slide through the air above them. “Or narrowing the search?”
“I have no idea,” Simon answered. He gripped the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turned white. He forced himself to keep his speed under the legal limit, matching the other cars in the increasingly busy highway. They can’t know who we are, trying to convince himself. We’re just another vehicle on a crowded road in a crowded town. Just keep it slow. Concealed in the chaos of traffic.
* * *
Takara studied her little satellite display. She watched the hysteria from over four hundred yards in a small cavity between two buildings, hidden by the shadows. She had fulfilled her promise to Jonathan. She knew she would find him. Now he was one of her victims. She felt no remorse as she slipped through the shadows and disappeared into the night.
* * *
He drove for ten minutes with no real destination in mind; there was a dead man and a paralytic in the back seat, and his other companions were silent and in shock. Finally, he activated the safe phone. He punched the icon Andrew had programmed into the phone as he focused his eyes on the road.
Ryan answered almost immediately. “Sorry, Simon, there’s just so much to do. I had to reschedule my classes, and all of the family business, and Sabrina-”
“So you haven’t left yet?”
“No, but I’m half out the door, I swear-”
“No. Just stay there.”
“What? Why?” He sounded absolutely bewildered.
Simon didn’t have the time or the energy to explain. “Just stay. We’ll come pick you up.”
“But-”
“Stay,” he said, tired of playing the game. He disconnected before Ryan could ask any more questions.
At least now, he thought, they had a destination.
At that moment, he had no idea he was signing someone’s death warrant.
OXFORD, ENGLAND
Ryan's Estate
Hayden could barely open his eyes, but he knew the worst was over. He could feel a gradual warming sensation; his muscle control was slowly coming back. At first, the interior of the car was a haze of dark colors and blurred textures, but it was making more sense, one small bit at a time. He struggled to gently open his mouth. Speak, he ordered himself. Speak, you idiot.
The massive iron gate outside Ryan’s estate opened as the Land Rover approached. Simon had been talking-almost shouting-at Ryan over the safe phones for the last ten minutes. They were expected…or at least he hoped so.
The rain poured down in an unending torrent, but Ryan and Sabrina were standing on the covered porch, waiting for them-and arguing. It was clear even at a distance that things were not going well for either of them. Sabrina had her arms tightly crossed; there was a small case sitting at Ryan’s feet-all that he would need for the trip in one small bag.
“Let me deal with this,” Simon told the others and reluctantly stepped out of the Rover as it rolled to a stop.
“Quickly, please,” Andrew said. “We gotta get outta here.”
Simon walked the thirty feet from vehicle to porch, hunched over in the rain, hating to be there. He heard Sabrina speak as he approached.
“You’re going,” she said.
Ryan nodded. “I have to.”
And you can’t even tell her why, Simon realized, ashamed to be watching the exchange at all. The more you tell her, the more danger she will be in-and you know that.