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Chapter 21

Cat and Mouse

2055 – Hereford, UK

"Elvis, so help me!" Georgie said clenching her fists so tightly her knuckles were bone white.

"Maybe it's not him," Toni said trying to downplay her own doubt. "I mean, it is dark. We're not getting the best images here. Just spotlight from the choppers."

It was as if Georgie could not hear her. "Where did he go? Can you see where he went?" She wished she could make the screen bigger.

"No I'm afraid. They're not tracking whoever that was. From what's been said, the last ambulance pulled away."

"Can ya text Spanner?" Georgie said.

"Maybe we should just shut this off," Toni said.

"Not on your life!"

Xxxxx

2057 – Undisclosed Location.

Elvis had one advantage. He could see the flashing channel lights on the ambulance as it neared an on ramp to the motorway. They would encounter some level of impedance from traffic, and he hoped he could catch up to them sooner than later. He did not relish a highspeed chase in the dark. His mind worked through a plan whilst he weaved and swerved amongst the cars and lorries. It was a given that Metro and London City police would be mustering to intercept as well. But he had the single advantage of being able to actually hitch a ride onto the ambulance if need be. However, he had not quite sorted how he was going to accomplish that. The London skyline, visible in the distance, provided the perfect backdrop to the realization that once his targets made it into the city, the odds in favor of him stopping them would be slim.

Drivers blared their horns, thinking him a madman, until they recognized the police markings on the motorcycle. His dark hair blew in every direction and his shirt billowed like a parachute on his back. Elvis took advantage of a break between several cars and throttled skillfully. He saw an abrupt flash of brake lights and then the boot of a car getting closer and closer.

"Come on! Come on! Move!" Elvis shouted.

It was more of an exercise of will then anything else. The driver could not hear him.

"Fuck! Shit!" he said, unable to change lanes and bypass the slowing car. He braked hard and could see the ambulance gaining distance from him. He had been reluctant to activate any of the police lights or sirens so that the targets would feel secure in their escape. But now Elvis flicked a switch setting off warning lights and staccato siren to alert the public to get out of his way. He served, dangerously sharp, bypassing the slow driver. His eyes were laser-focused ahead. He could barely see the ambulance as it made its way towards the labyrinth of motorways merging into the city. Elvis throttled harder, whizzing past everyone on the road. It was only a matter of time and traffic would become even more complicated.

He flew under one overpass, then another. More and more buildings were appearing along the route. Their windows peppered the night with their interior lighting. Wind whipped against Elvis' face, burning his eyes dry. He blinked against it, clearing his vision. The ambulance was approximately four blocks ahead now. Elvis' adrenaline fueled his determination. The rig's brake lights pulsed as it began to slow. Elvis took note of the flashing channel lights going out as the targets turned onto an exit ramp.

The ambulance slowed to a stop at the bottom of the ramp. Elvis could see the top of it illuminated by the overhead streetlamps. He was close.

"Shit!" he said going full throttle and braking in just enough time to negotiate the turn off the motorway. His targets were heading into heavier evening traffic as they breached the city. They paused at an intersection, seemingly taking their time. Elvis approached cautiously.

Xxxxx

Avery Bowers thumbed a rapid message into her phone.

"Which way?" Marty said, eyes darting around the intersection and back and forth in the mirrors. "We can't sit here much longer."

"Shut up! We need to hear from Nick," Bowers said, anxiously tapping her long fingernails on the arm rest.

Marty sneered back at her. They both froze when a sudden burst of static, followed by a voice, entered the cabin.

"4561. This is Halo One Medic Command. Do you copy?"

They looked at each other wide-eyed.

"Uh…" Bowers said reaching for the handset. She cleared her throat and said, "4561… Yes. We copy."

"Requesting ETA and status, over."

"We are…..in traffic….." She smirked and added, "The patient is …..unconscious at the moment…but…stable."

"Copy 4561. You are on our radar. Over."

Marty was sweating like a melting piece of ice. "Say, copy! Say copy!" he strained with a hoarse whisper.

"Copy Command," Bowers said shushing him with her hand.

The radio went silent.

"On their radar, what the feck does that mean?" Marty said.

"Just get going. Pull onto a side street. We gotta get out from under these streetlamps."

Xxxxx

Elvis parked midway down the ramp. He took advantage of a concrete barrier to provide some coverage for him. He crouched low, brushing against the rough surface of the wall as he assessed his situation. This particular ambulance had a small platform step below the rear personnel door. He engaged his comms radio, adjusting the headset back into his ear.

"Command. This is Echo One. Do you copy?"

Following a volley of prickly static Dave Warner's voice emerged. "Command copies Echo One. What is your twenty?"

Elvis proceeded to relay coordinates, shimmying to the end of the barrier, chest heaving more from adrenaline than exertion.

Xxxxx

Marty waited for two cars to pass around then he slowly got moving again. "Wait!" he said planting a heavy foot on the brake pedal causing them to jerk forward. "What was that?"

"What?! Watch what the hell you're doing!"

"Didn't ya hear that?" he said pressing the pedal completely down to a full stop and eyeballing the side view mirrors.

"Fuck sake! Now you're hearing goblins. Get this thing moving or get the hell out! I know I should have done this myself!"

Marty cringed. He hated when Bowers ridiculed him. He did not work for her, but she certainly gave the impression she was the one signing his paychecks.

"Bitch," he said, exaggerating the word with puckered lips.

"Spare me. We are not exactly blending in with you getting your pants in a twist," Bowers said,

Marty hit the gas pedal slowly, eyes on his partner instead of the road. "Maybe she's awake back there," he taunted.

"Stop looking at me and pay attention!" Bowers snapped but turned her head to look through the window into the treatment bay. "Nah. Not even a twitch," she sneered. "Get moving!"

"Bitch."

"Call me that one more time and I will show you what a bitch I can be!"

Xxxxx

Elvis crouched low, feet not quite firmly planted on the small step, one hand holding onto a bar beneath the transport door. He half chuckled to himself. If they gain speed and hit a bump, he will end up arse first on the asphalt.

Xxxxx

Jason Speers handed a bottle of water to Dave Warner, who was more interested in the approach of Colonel Thornton.

"Gentlemen," Thornton said, tucking his beret away.

"Alright Colonel," Warner said cracking the seal open on the bottle cap.

"I understand I have an operative on the loose," Thornton said.

"In a manner of speaking," Speers said.

Thornton detected the subtle amusement in the MI5 Agent's tone and did not like it one bit.

"Special Forces ended their engagement. Why am I not in the middle of a debrief with the team leader?" Thornton said, deeply hooded eyes bouncing from one agent to the other.

"Pursuit. Harte is in pursuit," Warner said.

"He is in pursuit," Thornton echoed in mock wonderment.

"Exactly," Speers said.

Thornton's eyes sparked a dangerous warning.

"Look. I take full responsibility for his actions," Warner said.

"And why would you do that Dave?" Thornton said.

"Because it seemed to be the best course of action at the time."

"How so?" Thornton said folding his arms across his chest.

"We believe the ambulance containing the rescued hostage was taken over by the targets," Warner said.

"The alleged hostage," Speers added.

"Go on," Thornton said.