Bionic Agent

Home > Other > Bionic Agent > Page 16
Bionic Agent Page 16

by Rose, Malcolm


  Two men held out Amy’s arms and tied the dangling steel cables around her wrists. The winch squealed into action, the cables ran through the pulleys on the arched frame and lifted her off the deck by her outstretched arms. Her body formed a Y shape.

  It must have felt as if she was being torn apart, but Amy didn’t give any of them the satisfaction of screaming or crying.

  Talking to Jordan, Melissa said, “This is going to be painful for you to watch. But that’s nothing compared to the pain she’s feeling. And when she goes overboard? Excruciating.”

  Jordan glared at the gangland boss and decided that she was a monster.

  Reading the hatred in his expression, Melissa Pink shrugged. “It’s strange but true. I’ve always enjoyed violence.”

  “As long as you don’t have to do it yourself,” Jordan muttered.

  “No one keeps dogs and barks themselves.”

  “What?”

  “There’s no point paying all these people around me and doing the dirty work myself.” She nodded towards Amy, suspended a metre above the deck. “You can save her, you know. You can open up and convince me you’ve told me everything.”

  Jordan didn’t believe her. He thought she enjoyed killing too much to let either of them go. Perhaps caving in and confessing everything about Unit Red would buy them an easier and quicker death, but he was convinced that she would not let them walk away from this boat trip.

  He was no longer online. His brain could not cope with what was about to happen to Amy and maintain a link to Angel at the same time. He didn’t know what he could do. If he tried to make any sort of move, he’d be gunned down before he took two steps. The bald guy would see to that. He was itching to pull the trigger, not once but lots of times. The gangster would love to see Jordan go down in a storm of bullets. And he was so close, he couldn’t miss.

  Melissa called out to Amy, “We’re going to throw you out like a net. Then we’re going to power the boat up and take you for a ride. Hold your breath but, to be honest, you won’t last long whatever you do. The water’s forced into your mouth, nose and lungs. Then it’s goodbye. It’s also agony, I’m told. Very unpleasant. You might last the first twenty or thirty seconds. No more.” Melissa sighed as if she regretted what she was about to do. “Have you got anything to say before you go over?”

  Amy strained her neck so that she could look at Jordan for a few seconds before she answered. “No. I don’t do deals with you. Not for anyone.”

  Amy was not going to reveal who he really was. Jordan didn’t know if she was keeping quiet because of the friendship they’d once shared or because she despised Melissa Pink.

  He saw something other than bravery and contempt in her face. Silently, she was imploring him to be the hero once more. After all, he was the one who’d pulled a driver from a burning car. Surely he could grab Amy and save her from this ordeal. Yet, without his right arm, Jordan didn’t feel like a hero. He felt disabled, helpless and outwitted.

  He didn’t know how to pay back her silence.

  Melissa waved a hand dismissively. “Give her a taster. Five seconds should do it.”

  The boat’s engine coughed and snarled. The trawler began to carve its way through the waves. The men put their guns inside their jackets and pushed Amy out over the stern with poles. At once, the cables lowered her down out of Jordan’s view. He heard the splash, though. He also heard himself shout, “No!”

  22 WEAPONS

  In a state of extreme distress, Amy was choking and spluttering when she reappeared seconds later. Writhing on the end of the line, water ran from her shoes, her school uniform, her hair and her mouth.

  Jordan had never seen such suffering. It was unbearable to watch. Yet he was the only one on the trawler who was sickened. Some of them were relishing her torment. Jordan could not understand how they could be so pitiless. They were less than human.

  He could not help himself. Revolted by such brutality, he staggered towards her.

  Almost immediately, both of Pink’s bodyguards had him by the shoulders. They held him so that he had no option but to look at Amy as she dripped and swayed in the air, suspended cruelly by steel ropes.

  Behind him, Melissa said, “Would I be right in assuming you’re ready to talk?”

  “Yes,” he said in a broken voice. “Let her go. It’s got nothing to do with Amy. She doesn’t know anything.”

  Melissa laughed. “I don’t think you’re in much of a position to bargain. Just tell me who you’re working for.”

  The minders shuffled him round until he faced their boss.

  “Come on. Come on. Or she goes over again.”

  The engine had slowed again and the trawler was drifting on the tide.

  Jordan’s legs quivered, hardly able to support his weight. “I feel ill...”

  Melissa groaned impatiently. “When you invaded my club, you opted to join the big bad adult world, Stryker. You can’t act like a little kid now. It was your choice.”

  But Jordan’s head flopped forward and his body went limp.

  Melissa cursed. “Drop him,” she ordered. “And someone fetch me a bucket of cold water to chuck over him.”

  The men let go and Jordan crashed to the deck.

  The remainder of his false arm hit first. His hips and head thudded onto the surface that had once teemed with fish.

  The heavies relaxed, shook their heads at each other, and then laughed.

  It was the off-guard moment that Jordan had anticipated. He reached out with his left hand for the bearded thug’s right ankle. In one swift movement, he pulled the man’s gun out of its holster and jumped up. In a second, he was at Melissa’s side, holding the revolver to her head.

  Taken by surprise, both bodyguards drew their weapons and aimed at him, but they didn’t fire. They looked to Melissa for instructions.

  Jordan whispered in her ear, “Don’t try anything. I’m already shaking. It wouldn’t take much to make this thing go off.” He moved behind her and swung the upper part of his fake arm around her throat. “Put your guns down,” he said to her bouncers. “No. Throw them overboard. I can shoot her or strangle her. It’s only half an arm but it’ll crush her neck in a split second.”

  “Idiots,” Melissa croaked. “How could you let a school kid...?”

  “Throw them into the sea!” Jordan yelled.

  Melissa could barely nod but, when she did, her minders obeyed him.

  The sound of the two sploshes came as a huge relief. Jordan hardly dared to believe that he was in control. But the ability and opportunity to kill in an instant gave him power. It was a power that terrified him. To beat Melissa Pink and her mob, though, he had to exploit his newfound authority.

  He’d never handled a real gun before. DS Smith – his mother – had kept him well away from firearms. She hadn’t even let him play with toy guns when he was a kid. Now, he didn’t know what he was doing, but it didn’t matter as long as Melissa Pink and her heavies believed he could pull the trigger. It didn’t matter as long as they believed he would pull the trigger.

  Shouting to the men at the stern, he said, “Let Amy down. Untie her. Or else.” He tightened his grip on Melissa’s throat and she let out a gurgle. His left hand was trembling so much that the barrel of the small revolver vibrated against her head. He could feel her cringing in his grip. He sensed that she was infuriated by his threats and disgusted by his nearness.

  Melissa nodded slightly again and the men lowered the boat’s wretched catch onto the deck and released her.

  Amy didn’t get up. She lay on the floor, washed up and exhausted. She seemed to be out cold.

  “Now what?” Melissa rasped.

  Jordan didn’t know. He hadn’t thought beyond getting Amy safely back into the trawler.

  “You can’t win,” Melissa struggled to say. “One disabled boy and an unconscious girl against us all. One little slip and...”

  “Shut up,” Jordan said. He needed to think.

  He could freeze. P
lay for time. Until Unit Red traced his position. But what if Angel couldn’t pinpoint him? What if help didn’t arrive? He couldn’t hold a gun to Melissa Pink’s head for ever. In front of him, there was a bunch of men – several holding knives – itching to impress their boss by taking him down. The only part of his body that was not quaking with fear was the stump of his arm.

  Still flat out on the deck, Amy stirred, but no one noticed because she wasn’t the centre of attention any more.

  Jordan looked around and his eyes lingered on the lifeboat suspended from a small crane on the port side. He wondered if he could use it to escape with Amy. But making a getaway in it wasn’t that simple. He could exchange Melissa Pink for the lifeboat, but she’d order the trawler to ram them afterwards. They wouldn’t stand a chance. To save themselves from this standoff, they’d have to take the gang’s leader with them in the lifeboat. She would be their insurance against attack.

  “We’re going in the lifeboat,” he announced. “Someone help Amy in.”

  Melissa’s eyes told them to do as he said.

  When two of the men lifted Amy by her shoulders, she looked up. At once, panic came to her face. “Behind!” she spluttered.

  For a moment, Jordan didn’t realize what she meant. Then he spun round awkwardly, still clutching Melissa Pink.

  The captain had emerged from the wheelhouse and was creeping up silently behind Jordan. He was swinging the boathook at Jordan’s head.

  Jordan ducked and put up his metal stump to protect himself, but he wasn’t quick enough. The heavy hook thwacked against his arm and then smacked into his forehead. Jordan’s world turned upside down.

  Melissa sprang away from him and the gun flew from his left hand. It skittered across the deck.

  The men holding Amy dropped her and reached for the weapon. But, sprawled on the deck, Amy was closer. She grabbed it, rolled over, and then jumped to her feet. Staggering, she couldn’t keep her balance at first. Trying to make her eyes focus, she steadied herself and aimed at Melissa Pink.

  But Melissa was smiling again. She was smiling because the bald minder was behind Jordan, holding a knife to his neck. “You’re almost as dazed as he is,” she said. “Put it down, young Goss, or your boyfriend...”

  “He’s not my boyfriend,” Amy replied.

  “You’re bluffing.”

  “I don’t know him and I don’t care what...”

  Melissa interrupted. “Let’s see.” To her bodyguard, she said, “I’ve had enough. Kill him.”

  The brute’s black hole of a mouth curved into a smirk.

  Jordan was vaguely aware of the thug’s beard tickling his neck. Then the prickle became a scratch and the scratch became a sting. The blade cut into his skin.

  Amy changed her line of sight. She blinked once to clear her vision and then fired.

  Jordan could almost see the bullet coming. He was a huge target and over his shoulder was the gangster’s bald head. A tiny bull’s-eye in comparison. Jordan heard the bullet zip past his ear. It punctured the man’s brow and crashed its way destructively out of the back of his skull.

  He was dead before the knife fell from his hand.

  For an instant, Melissa looked surprised. Then she said, “So, your dad made sure his family could shoot straight. A wise precaution.” She didn’t seem concerned in the slightest about her bodyguard, whose blood was pooling massively on the deck.

  Still clearly light-headed, Amy also seemed surprised by her success. She pointed the weapon at Melissa again.

  Melissa glanced at the two men closest to Amy. “Disarm her,” she ordered.

  Her henchmen looked at each other but did not risk going up to Amy.

  “Disarm her, I said!”

  “They don’t seem keen,” Amy muttered. “I’ll tell you the difference between me and B...Jordan. He just threatened you. No real reason to do more than that. But me? I’ve got a really good excuse to kill you. This is for my dad and all those men you...”

  Melissa turned, zigzagged across the deck and leaped over the safety rail.

  By the time Amy fired, she was out of sight.

  They all made for that side of the trawler and leaned against the rail.

  “Where is she?” one of her gangsters cried.

  “I can’t see nothing.”

  “She’s not coming up.”

  They waited anxiously, scanning the surface.

  There was nothing but the gentle stroke of waves against the boat’s flank.

  “She’s gone under!”

  “No one lasts long in there. She said so herself. It’s too cold.”

  “Her clothes must have dragged her down.”

  The skipper steered the trawler hard to starboard and turned a complete circle. They saw nothing.

  Dumbfounded, Melissa’s men stared at one other. None of them was willing to go overboard in a crazy attempt to save their leader.

  Amy was still clutching the gun with both hands, but she had drooped. She was no longer capable of lifting it and firing again.

  Two of the gangsters advanced menacingly towards her.

  Standing protectively beside her, the scarred thug shouted, “No! Think about it. There’ll be a reward for taking her back.”

  “Reward? What are you talking about?”

  “Her father’s the biggest thing in town again now. If we take her back, he’ll reward us with a job. Goss’ll pay our wages.”

  “Yeah. Good point.”

  There was a murmur of agreement.

  “So, what do we do now?”

  He shouted to the captain, “It’s all over here. Pink’s had it. Gone. Take us back.”

  “Okay. But first, get that lump overboard,” he said, pointing at the body of the minder. “And wash down the deck. I don’t want a trace left by the time we get ashore.”

  There was no sentiment in Melissa Pink’s world. A couple of the men rolled the body over the side and then swilled away the stain as if they were cleaning up after hooking an unwanted fish.

  Jordan was concussed. He could barely stand. In his mind, the boat wasn’t pitching calmly. It seemed to be turning right over. He leaned over the side and vomited.

  He didn’t notice the blood trickling from the top of his head and his neck. He wiped his mouth and somehow felt a little better for being sick. He gazed at Amy. She seemed to sway from side to side. He knew he’d lost control of the full range of his vision because she had an infrared glow. At times, her wet clothes muted some of the yellowy-red colour, then they dissolved from his sight altogether. To Jordan, she was an unstable ghost.

  “I’m sorry, Amy,” he said weakly. “I can explain.”

  Amy shook her head. “Not now, you can’t. You look like you’re about to pass out.” She paused before mumbling, “You’re not the only one feeling wrecked. I’ve just killed a man.”

  While the trawler made for the jetty, where their journey had begun, Jordan sat near Amy on an upside-down crate. Melissa’s heavies kept an eye on them but said nothing and didn’t bother them. Amy kept the small gun on her lap.

  Jordan knew he had to do something. Yes. He had to contact Unit Red. He had to update Angel. But he wasn’t sure if his brain/computer interface was still functioning. Nothing seemed to respond normally. When he thought he was online, he tried to leave the message: Heading back to land. Melissa Pink drowned. But he could have uploaded a meaningless jumble of words – or nothing at all – into his section of the system. He wasn’t sure.

  If he had been thinking clearly, he would have asked the captain where they were so that he could inform Unit Red. But his head wound made him woozy. He was still hoping that Angel had figured out their position from his aircraft sightings and that help was already on its way.

  He turned towards Amy and whispered, “Will your dad give this lot jobs?”

  “Not a chance. He’ll go ballistic – to put it mildly – when I tell him they tortured me. On top of that, they switch sides way too easily. But I’m not letting on til
l they get me back.”

  Jordan nodded. He took a deep breath, swallowed, and tried again. “Amy. There’s a reason I couldn’t tell you...”

  She shook her head. “There’s never a reason to lie to your best friend.”

  Jordan gave up.

  In the distance, the landing stage came into view.

  There was no threat when the men ushered Jordan and Amy off the trawler and onto the jetty. One of them even asked Amy if she was feeling better. The mood was very different from when they’d been shoved onto the boat.

  The gangsters shambled along the pontoon towards the two vans, but Jordan and Amy hung back as if they didn’t want to admit they belonged to the same bunch.

  Nearing the first van, the men suddenly froze. Four armed people had stepped out from behind it.

  Further back, Jordan’s heart stopped for a moment. A second later, he let out a sigh. Despite his distorted vision, he recognized Winter and three agents.

  “It’s okay,” he told Amy. “They’re on our side.”

  Within seconds, the Unit Red team had stripped the gang members of their knives, forced them into the second van, and locked them inside. Winter instructed the agents to take them all to the nearest police station. “I’ll look after Jordan and Amy,” she announced, putting her gun away.

  She walked towards Jordan at the edge of the jetty and said, “Sorry it took so long to find you, but it looks like you didn’t need us. Again. Good work.” She peered at his head and neck wounds with concern before glancing at Amy and noting the gun in her fist. “Are you both all right?”

  They were exhausted, bruised and bedraggled, but they nodded anyway.

  “I think you’d better give me that,” she said to Amy, holding out her hand for the gun.

  “No,” Amy snapped, clinging on to it protectively. “I don’t know you.”

  Winter was about to insist, but seemed to think Amy was in a fragile and possibly unstable state. “Okay. You keep it safe.” Instead, she turned round. “Come on. Let’s get you both sorted out.” She strode up the gravel path.

  Melissa’s hands were numb and white with cold. She could no longer cling to the trawler’s rope. She lowered herself into the water and swam to the shore. Hearing voices near the jetty, she ducked down behind a bush and waited for an opportunity.

 

‹ Prev