Shockwave

by Peter Jay Black

  Shots rang out and thudded into the car door.

  Jack and Charlie ducked in their seats, and she pressed her foot hard to the floor.

  ‘Brace,’ Charlie screamed.

  She let go of the steering wheel and crossed her arms.

  An instant later, the car slammed into Buckingham Palace’s gates with a sickening smash and the windscreen shattered as it was hit by a barrage of bullets.

  Jack peered forward, but the gates had sustained minimal damage.

  Charlie threw the car into reverse, spun it around and accelerated away, as another hail of bullets thudded all around them.

  As she sped down the Mall, Charlie glanced in a side mirror. ‘Here they come.’

  Jack looked over his shoulder to see a black SUV in hot pursuit. ‘It’s Connor,’ he said, turning forward.

  Charlie slammed her foot down on the accelerator and shoved the gearstick into fourth.

  ‘Let’s see how good he is at driving,’ she said, ripping the steering wheel hard over, first right, then left down Great Scotland Yard.

  The SUV rammed them from behind. The four-by-four wobbled dangerously, but Charlie managed to regain control.

  ‘I guess he’s annoyed.’

  ‘I think you could be right,’ Jack said, as they screeched around the corner.

  At the end of the road, Charlie turned left under Golden Jubilee Bridges and along the River Thames.

  The SUV hit them again, harder this time.

  Jack had never seen Charlie look so intense.

  For a moment, the reality and danger of the situation hit him, but before he had time to really think about it, the SUV slammed into them for a third time.

  The four-by-four swerved violently and Charlie fought to bring it under control. She managed it, dropped down a gear and accelerated away.

  She glanced at Jack and their eyes met briefly, anxiety mirrored in their faces.

  Before Jack could say anything, Charlie veered across the road and aimed for a set of steps.

  ‘Brace!’ she shouted.

  A fraction of a second later, they hit the steps, smashed through a stone wall and flew into the air.

  Jack closed his eyes as the car arced over the river, and he prayed they would both live through this.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  The car hit the water and Jack was slammed forwards and to the left, smacking his head on the passenger window.

  Dazed, he fell back and felt icy cold water around his feet.

  Jack looked over at Charlie.

  ‘I’m all right,’ she said, touching a cut above her left eye.

  Jack grabbed the window winder and gasped as it came off in his hand.

  ‘It’s OK,’ Charlie said, as water poured in around them. ‘Don’t panic. You can use the door but you won’t be able to open it until the car is completely flooded.’

  ‘I know,’ Jack replied, remembering their discussion about the water pressure and how she’d escape later. ‘You sure you’ll be OK?’ Now the reality of the situation was setting in and, as the icy water moved up his legs, Jack wasn’t convinced this plan was the best he could have come up with.

  ‘I’ll be fine,’ Charlie said, pulling down her shirt collar to reveal the homemade wetsuit beneath her clothes.

  Under Charlie’s supervision, Wren had made one for each of them. Although the makeshift wetsuits only protected their torsos and upper arms, Jack hoped they would do a good job at preventing their core temperatures from falling too low. The last thing they needed on top of the virus was hypothermia.

  Charlie reached down by her seat and pulled out the end of a nylon tube. It was connected to a couple of empty plastic tanks she’d fitted in the boot – hopefully Charlie would have enough air for ten minutes whilst submerged.

  The green water rose up the bonnet of the car, over the windscreen, and darkness enveloped them as the jeep dropped below the surface.

  The water came in faster now, and as it continued up Jack’s chest and touched his neck, he said, ‘Charlie?’

  ‘Yeah?’

  ‘Please live through this.’

  ‘I intend to.’

  ‘Promise?’

  But before she had time to answer, the water rose over their heads.

  Jack held his breath and waited until all the air had been forced from the car. Then he undid his seat belt, grabbed the door handle and pushed.

  It didn’t open.

  Jack shoved again, but the door still would not budge.

  Panic immediately gripped him. Jack shouldered the door again and again, but no matter how hard he tried, it wouldn’t move.

  His chest started to burn.

  He was going to drown.

  What a stupid way to die, he thought.

  And it was his fault. It was his dumb plan that had done it. He should’ve taken longer to –

  Suddenly, Jack felt Charlie reach across him, yank up the lock and open the door.

  Jack didn’t hesitate. He pushed through, out into the river, and kicked hard for the surface.

  As soon as his head broke into open air, he gasped and took big lungfuls of oxygen.

  Stunned to still be alive, Jack gathered his senses and swam to the nearest set of steps. He hauled himself from the water with every last bit of strength he had, and, just as he’d predicted, a pair of hands grabbed his shoulders.

  Jack wiped water from his eyes and looked up at Connor.

  ‘Where’s the other one?’ he snarled, his face a centimetre from Jack’s.

  Jack shook his head and pretended to fight back tears. ‘Gone.’

  Connor’s eyes narrowed and he looked at the river for a long moment, as if expecting Charlie’s head to pop up at any time. But when a couple of minutes had passed, he let out an angry grunt, spun around and dragged Jack to the SUV.

  He threw Jack on to the passenger seat and slid in the driver’s side. He started the engine and the SUV pulled away.

  Jack shivered. ‘Have you got a towel?’

  Connor didn’t respond. He just held a gun in his lap, aimed up at Jack’s chest, while he drove.

  Jack looked at the gun, then his eyes lifted to Connor’s. ‘There’s no point threatening me.’ He coughed. ‘I’m dead already.’

  A smile tugged the corners of Connor’s lips. ‘I know.’

  Jack hugged himself and sat back.

  Connor kept his gaze forward, pressing his lips together and obviously fighting the urge to shoot him.

  They wove through the streets and Jack closed his eyes.

  His body felt so cold and stiff, and he ached so badly that he just wanted to die right there and then. But, as he always did, he thought of the other Outlaws – his family. He owed it to them to hold it together.

  They needed him.

  Just a little while longer, he thought.

  Everything was in place, Jack reminded himself. Connor thought Charlie was dead, and the other Outlaws were playing their parts.

  Now it was all up to him. This was it. No slip-ups from here on. It had to be perfect.

  Jack gritted his teeth, opened his eyes and saw that they were driving up the Mall.

  They reached the end, swept around the Queen Victoria Memorial and stopped at the gates of Buckingham Palace.

  Jack leant forward and peered up at the immense building through the windscreen.

  It was official, he thought. Hector and his father were one hundred per cent crazy, and the only thing that could beat crazy was someone crazier.

  Today, that would have to be him.

  A man, dressed in black and carrying an automatic rifle, opened the gate and the SUV drove through.

  Connor slowed the car as they approached the central archway and nodded at another armed guard, who waved them on.

  They headed across a gigantic inner forecourt that was surrounded on all sides by the palace building.

  The whole area was a hive of activity, crammed full of trucks and vans with men loading crates, boxes and bags. It w
as like Talya’s warehouse and gang, only scaled up a thousand times.

  As they drove past, Jack watched two men load a golden throne into the back of a van.

  ‘Where are they taking it all?’ Jack asked, half-knowing the answer already.

  Connor considered him a moment and then, probably realising it didn’t matter what Jack knew any more, he said, ‘The Thames. Hector has ships waiting.’

  Connor parked the SUV behind a Rolls-Royce and next to a door with another armed man guarding it.

  Connor climbed out and waved his gun, gesturing for Jack to follow.

  With effort, Jack edged his way across the seat and stepped from the car.

  Connor patted him down, removing a phone and headset along with several other objects from his pockets.

  ‘With us,’ he said to the guard.

  Then Jack followed Connor into the palace, with the guard bringing up the rear.

  The interior of the palace wasn’t far from what Jack had imagined it to be, with its polished marble and wood flooring, large portraits hanging on the walls, crystal chandeliers and ornate furniture that looked like it belonged in a museum.

  Almost everything was accented in gold leaf.

  More men were wrapping it all up, ready to move it.

  ‘This way,’ Connor snarled.

  They walked through a set of double doors and into a room that was at least thirty metres long and ten wide.

  There were several high-backed chairs surrounding a fireplace, and at the far end of the room were two antique desks pushed together. On them were five monitors connected to computers.

  The images showed various news channels and CCTV footage of both the outside and inside of the palace.

  So far, it seemed, no one had spotted Obi’s looped recordings.

  ‘We have a guest,’ Connor said, as they approached the chairs around the fireplace.

  Hector rose from one of them.

  ‘Hello, Jack,’ he said in mock surprise. He gestured. ‘Take a seat. You look like a . . .’ he smiled, ‘drowned sewer rat.’

  Dripping water on the floor, Jack sat down with a squelch.

  Hector looked him up and down, and his stupid grin spread further across his smug face.

  Jack ignored him and appreciated the satisfying warmth of the fire. Then his eyes drifted to his left.

  In the third chair was Hector’s father, Benito Del Sarto. Despite heavy scars on his neck and arms, he looked as though he was back to full health.

  Del Sarto watched Jack through narrowed eyes.

  ‘The boy had these on him.’ Connor dropped the phone and objects he’d taken from Jack’s pockets on to a side table and then stood back.

  ‘You’ve been busy,’ Hector said to Jack, sitting in the remaining chair. ‘Running all over London like a homeless dog.’ He clicked his fingers. ‘Oh, that’s right, you’re homeless now, aren’t you?’

  Jack sighed. He couldn’t be bothered with Hector’s stupid games any more. All Hector wanted to do was talk, and Jack was bored with his self-satisfied droning.

  Jack was about to tell him so, when a door opened and footsteps approached.

  He turned in his chair to see the Shepherd walking towards them.

  Jack stared at him. ‘So, you’re in on it too.’

  ‘You don’t sound surprised,’ the Shepherd said.

  ‘No,’ Jack said. ‘I’m not. But I’ll admit I wasn’t completely sure, even though it does make perfect sense. Hector needed someone with high-level government clearance to do what he did at the Facility. You were my number-one suspect.’

  ‘Really?’

  Jack coughed and wiped his mouth on his sleeve. ‘Let me guess,’ he continued, ‘you used the Cerberus forum to contact Hector, like you did us?’

  The Shepherd smiled. ‘You’re cleverer than you look.’

  ‘No, he’s not,’ Hector snapped. ‘I’ll prove it.’

  He leapt to his feet, marched to the side table and examined the objects from Jack’s pockets.

  After a minute, Hector turned back. ‘You want to know Jack’s plan?’

  ‘I do,’ the Shepherd said, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall.

  Hector smirked. ‘It’s pathetic.’ He looked at Jack. ‘He used almost the exact same tactic before in New York.’

  ‘And what was that?’ the Shepherd asked, looking genuinely intrigued.

  Hector waved a finger at Jack. ‘He deliberately got caught so we’d bring him inside.’

  Jack shrugged and another wave of dizziness washed over him. He forced himself to focus on Hector. ‘It worked though.’

  The Shepherd frowned. ‘I don’t follow.’

  ‘That’s why he’s here,’ Hector said. ‘He knows that he and his little friends don’t stand a chance of breaking in here. So his plan is for us to bring him in ourselves, and then he’ll break out instead.’ He glared at Jack. ‘I know you’ve looped the CCTV recordings. And I don’t fall for the same thing twice.’ Hector glanced around at everyone. ‘Don’t you see? I bet that girl is outside waiting for him right now.’

  ‘She’s dead,’ Connor said.

  Hector snorted. ‘You’re stupid.’ He marched over to Jack, grabbed the collar of his shirt and tugged it down, revealing the modified wetsuit underneath.

  Connor’s eyebrows pulled together.

  Hector released Jack and stepped back, turning to Connor. ‘They deliberately made it look like it was an accident, you idiot, so you’d think she’s not coming back. How could a dead girl be a threat to us, right? Moron.’ Hector spun to face Jack again. ‘And you knew that ramming the gates wouldn’t get you anywhere either, so why did you do it?’

  ‘He wanted to be chased,’ Del Sarto said.

  Jack glanced at him and shuffled in his chair.

  ‘Exactly,’ Hector snapped, not taking his eyes off Jack. ‘You just wanted this moron to chase you.’

  ‘Distraction,’ Del Sarto said.

  ‘That too,’ Hector said. ‘You wanted us to be focused on what you were doing, so your friends could pick a lock on one of the back doors, allowing you the chance to escape when you’re ready.’ Hector gestured to a guard. ‘Go check the back of the palace. You’ll find a door unlocked. Anyone goes near it, kill them. And put the word out that there’s a hole in the back fence somewhere. Send as many spare men as you can and kill anyone you find there too.’

  The guard nodded and stepped from the room.

  ‘I’m not impressed, Jack,’ Hector said, rounding on him again.

  ‘Sorry to disappoint you,’ Jack croaked.

  Hector shook his head. ‘Not much of a plan, was it? You got over the back fence, hacked into the CCTV, then rammed the front gates.’ He gestured to Connor. ‘You made him chase you like a greyhound after a hare.’ He paced. ‘Meanwhile, your little buddies are picking the lock on a back door.’ Hector sighed. ‘You then fake the girl’s death, and get caught. We bring you inside and you attempt to steal the antidote and get back out again.’

  ‘I don’t get it,’ Connor said in a low voice.

  ‘You don’t need to get it,’ Hector snarled.

  He walked back to the side table, looked over the items from Jack’s pockets and picked up the modified catapult. He examined it a moment, then set it down and grabbed a silver canister, forty centimetres long by ten wide. He started unscrewing the end.

  ‘Careful with that,’ Connor said.

  Hector ignored him, removed the end of the canister and reached inside. He pulled out a sheet of plastic connected to a bundle of cords.

  ‘What’s that?’ the Shepherd asked.

  ‘Parachute,’ Hector said. ‘He thought he could get the antidote, load it into this canister and use the catapult to fire it over the wall so his friends could scoop it up.’

  ‘Why do it that way?’ Connor asked.

  Hector placed the objects back on the table and chuckled. ‘Because he thinks he’s a hero. It’s a backup plan in case he couldn’t make it out of
here. That way, he’d still get the antidote to them. What was it, Jack? Plan B?’

  Hector dropped into the chair again. He glanced at his father with a self-satisfied smirk, then looked at Jack. ‘It’s a rubbish plan,’ he said. ‘It really is. But, to put your mind at ease, it never would’ve worked anyway because I’ve got some really bad news for you.’ Hector leant forward and whispered, ‘There is no antidote.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘You heard him,’ Del Sarto snarled.

  Hector sat back and laughed. ‘There never has been an antidote.’

  Jack’s gaze moved to the Shepherd. He was smiling too.

  ‘I deleted all records pertaining to the Medusa virus, including the antidote formula,’ the Shepherd said.

  ‘The Repository,’ Jack said in a quiet voice. ‘That’s how you found my USB drive. You went to the Repository and destroyed every file to do with Medusa.’

  ‘Yes,’ the Shepherd said, straightening his tie. ‘That’s correct. Hector’s men took care of everyone who knew about Medusa when they raided the Facility. Everyone who had the knowledge to create an antidote is dead.’

  ‘But why?’ Jack said. ‘What’s in it for you?’

  ‘A share,’ Hector said. ‘A very large share of every-thing we’ve taken.’ He smirked. ‘Not to mention guaranteed safe passage from the country and a small island somewhere.’

  Jack slumped in his chair.

  Hector laughed. ‘We’ve played you since day one. The virus was only infectious for an hour after you were exposed to it.’

  Jack nodded. His suspicions had been right on that score. But his thoughts drifted back to the Facility and when he’d opened that canister. As he’d made his way out of the underground building, the only people he’d come into direct contact with were Charlie, Obi, Slink and Wren. He’d also been right about Raze, Wilf and Domino – it had taken the Outlaws longer than an hour to get back to them.

  ‘I lied to you,’ the Shepherd said. ‘None of us is immunised, because none of us needs to be. Medusa was designed to only last one hour – giving it time to infect the enemy it was unleashed on and causing minimal collateral damage.’

  Hector laughed. ‘That’s the brilliance of my plan, Jack. The Shepherd destroyed all records and eliminated all personnel who knew about the Medusa virus. Then –’