Wanted (Flick Carter Book 1)

by Arnot, Tim

  ‘Shea?’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Is Hannah really your girlfriend?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘So why did she say she was?’

  ‘Dunno. We grew up together, maybe she just assumed. Didn’t like the idea I might be with someone else.’

  ‘And are you?’

  ‘Am I what?’

  ‘With someone else?’

  ‘I don’t know. Am I?’

  There was the briefest pause.

  ‘Shea?’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Kiss me.’

  He rolled over and reached out to her, then he pulled her closer and kissed her, tentatively at first, but as she responded, more and more passionately.

  ‘Do you suppose this really is our last night on earth?’ Flick said after they’d broken off.

  ‘I don’t know, but I can’t think of anyone else I’d rather spend it with.’

  Flick kissed him again, ‘Good answer,’ she whispered.

  ‘Of course we must survive, or you won’t get your plane ride,’ Shea added.

  Shea?’ Flick said.

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Shut up.’

  ‘Stay there kid, and don’t move. I’ve got my eye on you. Understand?’ Kingsman North gestured at Adam with his fingers.

  Adam nodded. He looked at the sea of Kingsmen in the large room, and a big grin came over his face. He was wearing black in a sea of black. Every Kingsman in the city must be in this room. Okay, his was the only uniform without the gold embroidered crown on it, and he only got to stand at the back, but one day soon…

  Something was happening at the front of the room, where the top brass sat on a small stage. Adam strained to see. Someone stood up. Adam could see him now, head and shoulders above the crowd. It was Brigadier Humphries. The room came to order.

  The brigadier had a flip chart with him on the stage and he turned over the cover. Adam saw the features of a man, familiar yet at the same time striking fear into the core of his being: Mayor George Griffin. What on earth did the Kingsmen want with Griffin, here in Bristol of all places? Adam hoped fervently that it wasn’t anything nice. Not after the things he’d seen him do.

  The brigadier spoke. ‘This man…’ he hit the picture with his swagger stick. ‘…is George Griffin. At present mayor of Faringdon. But also an upstart with a private army and ambitions for power that must be stopped.’ He paused and looked around the room.

  ‘Normally this would be a job for Oxford, and if he was still in Faringdon, they’d deal with it. But he’s in Bristol, and so he is now our problem. Lieutenant Dixon will go over the details.’ He waited as Dixon stood to address the assembly.

  ‘Griffin is a cruel and evil man. Kidnapper, murderer, extortionist. He’s prepared to go to any lengths to get what he wants, and will go out of his way to harm or kill anyone that gets in his way. He even killed his own son in cold blood for aiding the escape of a prisoner, a girl who he’d accused of two murders that he himself had committed.’

  Adam winced at the memory, and appreciated the groans of disgust that now permeated the room.

  Dixon continued, ‘The brother of that girl is a cadet in this room, and will be observing the operation.’

  ‘The reason that Griffin is here in Bristol is to buy arms. Some of you are aware that a Scav ship arrived in the harbour recently carrying a great deal of munitions. Not just guns and bullets, but mortars, grenades, explosives sufficient to go against the king and possibly even pull off a successful coup.’ There were gasps around the room as they grasped the seriousness of it.

  ‘Yesterday I had a high level meeting with Tomas Bradbury and the Scav Grand Council, requesting that the munitions be directed to our armoury where they could be kept out of harm’s way. This request was denied and Griffin has paid a large sum of money and gold for them.’

  ‘But the munitions are still in the warehouse awaiting collection. And it is our job to see that doesn’t happen. Bradbury has promised there will be no Scav interference, so long as our efforts are directed against Griffin and not against any known Scav installation. Intelligence suggests he has approximately a hundred men, armed with light machine guns and pistols, and so our work will be cut out for us.’

  Adam listened intently as the rest of the briefing was taken up with details of the upcoming mission. He was relieved to discover that his squad, the one he’d arrived from Oxford with, would remain intact under the command of Lieutenant Dixon. If anyone could save the day, it was Dixon, and he, Adam Carter, cadet, with just three weeks training and one operational mission under his belt, was going to make damn sure she did.

  39

  An Early Start

  IT WAS STILL dark outside when the convoy of six Armoured Personnel Carriers rolled out of the Kingsmen’s compound. Adam and the rest of Lieutenant Dixon’s squad were in the back of truck number six. They all wore body armour, and everyone apart from Adam was armed with an SA120-A9 light assault rifle. Adam sat, eyes fixed on the side wall of the APC, gritting his teeth so that he didn’t tremble, hoping against hope that the Kingsmen seated opposite him couldn’t see the fear, no, the terror in his eyes. What was he doing? He was just a kid from a small town in the middle of nowhere. A month ago, he was still in school, and now he was on his second operational mission. Beads of sweat trickled down his back and he struggled to fight off the urge to scratch, knowing that whatever he did wouldn’t satisfy the itch and would only draw attention.

  ‘You all right son?’

  It was Lieutenant Dixon. The Kingsman Princess, he’d learned. He’d heard her being called other things too, behind her back. Warrior Bitch was one. He remembered back to his first day, when he’d told Socko about his encounter in the museum. Doomed he’d called him. Adam had thought at the time that he was only joking. But now perhaps he was right. Doomed. Socko was in the APC with him, two places down, looking straight ahead. Maybe they were all doomed.

  ‘Son?’

  Adam snapped out of it. ‘Yes, ma’am.’

  Dixon smiled. ‘Worried about your sister? We’ll find her if we can.’

  Adam nodded. He hadn’t been. But now he thought about her, and now he regretted being so nasty, so selfish all those years. He hoped at least he’d get a chance to say sorry, whatever else happened.

  Dixon called up front, ‘Fletcher, what’s the tracker status?’

  Mo Fletcher consulted her board in the front of the truck. ‘Still no signal, ma'am,’ she shouted back. ‘Last known position was south of…’ she kept shouting something but Adam couldn’t make out the words over the noise of the truck.

  Dixon cupped her hand to her ear. Evidently she couldn’t hear either.

  ‘She’s in the tunnel!’ Fletcher shouted slowly and clearly.

  Dixon gave a thumbs up.

  She turned back to Adam. ‘We know exactly where she is, so don’t worry.’

  The convoy tore through the empty streets until it reached the derelict industrial area that abutted the railway line on the south side of the airfield. Here they stopped and waited. Finally Dixon addressed the squad.

  ‘Now listen up everyone. We’ve briefed this already, but just to be clear. The first group is going to clear and gain access to the facility. Group two, led by us, will penetrate the control centre and locate our target. A reminder: this is a FOFO mission–Fighting On Fortified Objectives–and we can assume there will be stiff resistance. We know the bad guys are armed and dangerous, so keep your eyes open. Carter: You are here as an observer only. Stay out of the way and do not get yourself shot.

  ‘Intel has several people matching the travellers we tagged taken into the compound under guard yesterday. My guess is that Felicity is going after them.’

  ‘That sounds like Flick,’ Adam interjected.

  ‘Okay, be alert for civilian interference everyone,’ Dixon announced. ‘Her goals are not incompatible with ours, and she’s not to be regarded as hostile unless necessary.’

  Dixon
turned to Adam. ‘We will try to retrieve your sister if it is practical, but that is not our objective, and not if it jeopardises the mission. Understood?

  Adam nodded.

  ‘Yes, ma’am!’ the squad chorused.

  Soon they heard the boom that signalled the start of group one’s assault. It was followed by sounds of machine gun and small arms fire.

  ‘Lock and load people! We’re up!’ Dixon shouted. The driver gunned the motor, vainly trying to compete with the sound of magazines being slammed home and bolts being drawn back, and the truck moved in. Adam felt the clatter as they ran over the shattered remains of the gates, and the ramp was already descending as the truck screeched to a halt. His heart thumped hard in his chest. This was it. Now the only sound Adam could hear was his own breathing.

  The ramp dropped, opening up the back of the truck and the silence was shattered by the sounds of gunfire. Adam’s nostrils were assaulted by the stink of cordite.

  ‘Go! Go! Go!’ Sergeant Wailing shouted. The squad piled out and took up positions behind the truck. Steam vented from somewhere beneath, obscuring their position from the enemy. The rat-a-tat of small arms fire was punctuated by a deeper booming dug-a-dug-a-dug-a, and the truck shook under a series of impacts.

  Someone shouted, ‘Machine gun on the roof!’

  ‘On it!’ another voice answered.

  The truck stopped shaking as the machine gunner changed targets, and Adam saw sparks flying as rounds thudded into the plating on another truck. Then there was a whoosh and a boom and the machine gun fell silent.

  But the small arms fire continued, with the Kingsmen returning fire. Adam crouched behind one of the wheels, making himself as small as possible. He saw the lieutenant waving at people and they disappeared. Adam’s jaw was slack. Everything was happening so fast. So much noise. So much confusion. His eyes were stinging from the smoke.

  Dixon yelled, ‘Sergeant Wailing, five rounds, rapid!’

  ‘Ma’am’ came a call back, and five shots went off in rapid succession. That appeared to be a signal for something as shots rang out from all around, and booms went off, and lots more smoke started drifting around. He crouched down with his fingers in his ears and shut his eyes.

  Eventually someone tapped Adam on the shoulder. He looked up. It was Corporal Barnes. ‘Come on, we’re moving out,’ he shouted. Adam got to his feet and started to follow after him.

  ‘Keep your head down, for fuck’s sake,’ the corporal hissed. ‘If you get yourself shot, I’m in for a severe bollocking. Now run!’

  Adam ducked. Barnes pushed him forward and they ran for the shelter of the nearest building. They flattened themselves against the wall and edged along it.

  ‘Entrance is just around the corner,’ Barnes said.

  They reached the corner, and Corporal Barnes edged his rifle out into the open. Shots rang out and he pulled it back quickly. ‘Shit!’ he muttered. Barnes rummaged inside his armour and pulled out a small mirror. He held it out so that he could see around the corner, ‘Got you, you bastard.’

  Barnes threw the mirror out into the open. More shots rang out as he ducked out from the cover of the wall, firing his own rifle. The shooting stopped and he motioned to Adam, ‘Quick, come on before any more turn up.’

  They rounded the corner, made it to the door and slipped inside.

  Adam stopped abruptly. ‘Don’t shoot!’ he cried. He was looking straight into fifteen gun muzzles pointing right at him.

  Slowly Adam raised his hands.

  For the first time in weeks, Flick didn’t have bad dreams. Her hand reached over to Shea and stroked the hairs on his chest. She smiled and opened her eyes, looking at the tribal tattoo on his arm, wondering at the significance of the swirls and lines. The grey pre-dawn light formed a perfect semicircle in the tunnel mouth and she realised where she was.

  Crap.

  ‘Shea, wake up, it’s time!’ She shook him until he stirred.

  ‘Mmmmf?’ He sat bolt upright.

  Flick kissed him, ‘Morning sleepy head. It’s time to go and get killed.’ It was the first morning since forever that she’d woken up happy, and it was likely to be her last. She should be scared, terrified even, but she was strangely calm.

  ‘Do we have to? I was so starting to enjoy life too!’ Shea lay back and, reaching out, pulled her towards him.

  She was tempted. It would be so easy just to snuggle in his arms, let the day pass and perhaps it would all go away. But she pushed away from him. There were too many lives depending on what she did right here, right now.

  Shea shook his head. ‘Why does crap like this happen just when things start looking up?’

  ‘I know, it sucks doesn’t it?’ Flick replied. She gave him a peck on the cheek. ‘Back in a mo…’

  ‘Where are you going?’

  ‘I have to pee and poo. And I’m not doing it here!’

  ‘Right, fair enough!’

  When Flick got back, Shea had packed their things and decanted the cold stew into bowls. He handed one to her.

  ‘Thanks.’

  They ate in silence.

  ‘So how do we play this?’ Shea asked when they had finished.

  Good question. Flick realised she really hadn’t thought this far ahead. She’d never expected to get this far. Never expected to still be alive. Never expected to have her friends kidnapped by the man she feared most in the whole world. Never expected to have to rescue them. Never expected to have to figure out how to rescue them.

  She said the first thing that came into her head.

  ‘Well, we don’t know where they are for sure, but… We hop over the fence, run across the field until we get to the buildings. Then we sneak along, peek through all the windows until we find where our friends are, bust in, overwhelm the guards, release them, run back here, climb back over the fence and away. Easy!’

  Surprisingly it seemed to make some sense.

  Shea opened his mouth as if to say something, but then thought better of it. Instead he wiped the last of his bread around the bowl and popped it into his mouth. He chewed on it for a moment before swallowing.

  ‘Yeah, easy,’ he said.

  Now that she’d said it, the enormity of what they had to do struck her and she panicked.

  ‘I can’t do it! They’re going to die! We’re going to die!’ she squeaked.

  ‘No, we’re not!’ Shea grabbed hold of her and looked her in the eye. ‘We can do this, you and me. One step at a time. It’s going to be all right!’

  Deep breaths.

  She calmed down. ‘Yeah, you’re right. The enormity of it all just struck me, that’s all.’ She breathed in and out slowly and deliberately. She smiled. ‘One step at a time, eh?’

  ‘We’ve got our knives,’ he said, ‘and you’ve got your arrows. You’re a good shot, and maybe we won’t even need them.’

  Flick slung her pack and quiver over her shoulders, checked the knives in her belt and grabbed the bow. Shea checked the knives in his own belt. ‘Ready?’ she asked.

  Shea nodded. He leaned over and kissed her. ‘For luck,’ he said.

  Flick smiled and pushed him in the direction of the tunnel entrance. ‘Let’s go.’

  Now or never.

  Shea released the horse from its tie down. ‘It might still be here when we get back, and if we don’t… well, it won’t be stuck here,’ he said.

  They dragged their bedding up the embankment to the fence. Flick was about to throw her blanket up when Shea nudged her.

  ‘There,’ he said pointing further down the fence line, ‘See that post? If we go over there, it should be easier.’

  Flick nodded and they moved further down.

  ‘Yeah, no trouble,’ he whispered, and threw his blanket up. It stuck on the top of the post. Flick threw hers up to join it.

  ‘I’ll go first,’ she said. ‘Give me a boost up.’

  Shea cupped his hands and Flick stepped up and onto the fence. She scrabbled up and quickly reached the top. ‘
It’s not too bad,’ she said. ‘Just wedge your feet into the links and don’t stop.’ Then she tested the blanket to see if the barbs had pinched their way through. ‘Seems okay,’ she called, before swinging herself over the top and dropping down on the other side. This was easy. If the rest of the day went like this, it would be a cinch.

  Shea grabbed on to the wire links and heaved himself up, ‘I should have gone first,’ he muttered, ‘and made you give me a bunk up.’

  ‘Get on with it!’ Flick hissed. ‘You’re such a wuss!’

  Shea dropped down and crouched close to the ground. ‘Get down!’ he hissed, ‘we don’t want to be spotted!’

  Flick crouched down too. Why had she not thought of that herself? She started to have doubts. She looked around, but all she could see from her crouched position was grass. ‘Which way?’

  Shea pointed. ‘That way. There are trees at the far side of the buildings. They’ll give us some shelter. We’ll surprise them.’

  That sounded good and she grinned. ‘I hope they like surprises,’ Flick whispered. ‘Come on, last one there’s a sissy!’ She set off running in a low crouch across the field.

  They were about halfway across when a loud, droning wail started.

  Shit! We’ve been spotted!

  ‘It’s the alarm!’ she hissed, hesitating.

  Shea tugged at her. ‘Come on, keep going, don’t stop!’ he urged.

  They ran. She heard men shouting and doors slamming and running boots. When she looked up she saw people running about. There were dozens of men, pulling on jackets, waving guns about.

  They’ve got guns? No one said anything about guns!

  But it was as if there was a different emergency; they didn’t seem to notice two figures running across the grass. They reached the trees. Flick ran past the first tree and reached the second before she stopped.

  She held her sides, panting, recovering her breath and looking around.

  The droning wail continued.

  ‘I really thought they’d spotted us,’ she shouted above the noise, her breath coming in short spurts. ‘How many are there, do you think?’