[Sam Archer 08.0] Last Breath

by Tom Barber

  And didn’t spot a glass bottle lying half hidden in the grass by the edge of the sidewalk.

  She hit it with her foot; as the bottle rolled noisily into the street, a member of the gang snapped round, immediately seeing the trio on the edge of the sidewalk.

  ‘Yo, check it out!’ he called, immediately grabbing the attention of all his friends. Fifty yards down the street, Ledger, Angela and Jesse stood frozen, like deer in the headlights, Ledger holding his good arm behind his back to hide his pistol.

  ‘Shit!’ Archer whispered from the rooftop across the street, sighting the gang members with his rifle.

  ‘Look who we got!’ the guy repeated, he and the others swaggering back, shouting and laughing. The man had a knife in his right hand, a sub-machine gun in the other, aiming it at Ledger, who had his fingers curled around his Department pistol, still concealed behind him.

  He glanced up at the roof to his left where he knew Archer was watching.

  Fire, Sam, he willed.

  Make them scatter.

  ‘I’m a cop,’ Ledger said. ‘You don’t want to do that.’

  ‘We know exactly who you are,’ one of them said, laughing. ‘Shit man, we just hit paydirt.’

  Archer, fire!

  Archer was about to do just that when he and the others below became aware of a strange sound.

  Twisting round, he saw a white shape moving low through the sky towards the building; it looked like a small helicopter.

  What the hell is that? he thought, watching the object as it came closer.

  It hovered for a moment before moving again, drawing to a stop above him on the roof.

  Then he saw the camera and gun turrets on the underside.

  From their base across town, Burnett saw Archer’s outline on the roof, his body showing white in the infrared camera of the monitor.

  After waiting a few moments, he hit Enter and held the key down.

  Realising in that split-second what he was looking at, Archer leapt to his feet and raced towards the skylight, firing at the glass with the Rozio rifle as he ran.

  And a second later, the drone unloaded pure hell.

  Throwing himself through the space surrounded by jagged glass as the drone opened fire, Archer hit the table hard, a hailstorm of bullets tearing into the roof right where he’d been moments earlier. Rolling off the table and wincing as shards of glass cut into him, there was a brief lull, then he saw the drone reposition itself outside the storeroom window.

  Getting to his feet, he sprinted for the door as bullets tore into the room, ripping the upper level of the store to shreds.

  ‘Jesus Christ!’

  Seeing and hearing the onslaught unleashed by the drone, most of the gang on the street started to scatter, self-preservation kicking in as the drone unloaded its ammunition on the building. However, the guy who’d first spotted Ledger wasn’t going anywhere, turning back with his sub-machine gun still up.

  While the gang leader had been distracted, Ledger had moved fast, and he hit the guy as hard he could on the side of the head with his Sig, dropping him like a marionette with cut strings.

  As the guy hit the sidewalk and the drone ripped the 1st floor of the store to shreds, Ledger swung his pistol up and fired at the machine, hitting it several times, but it kept firing without any let up.

  Bleeding from his fall through the skylight, Archer hurtled down the stairs, hearing the gunfire continue above him.

  Then it stopped. Reaching the ground floor, he ran to where the front window used to be, seeing Ledger, Jesse and Angela taking cover across the street behind a car as the drone apparently switched target and started to unload rounds on their position.

  Moving out of the store, Archer aimed upwards and fired at the drone, blowing out one of its rotors, rocking it sideways.

  Four blocks away, Riley and Tarketti had joined Thorne and Deerman, their squad car parked with the trunk still open from where they’d had the drone disassembled and stored, ready for use.

  ‘They’re pinned down!’ Burnett said. ‘I’ve got Ledger behind a car, Archer in a store across the street.’

  ‘Move!’ Thorne ordered the three men beside him as they jumped in their car and took off for the street.

  Knowing he was completely outgunned but hoping he could disable the machine before it could unleash its firepower again, Archer maintained his fire on the drone, managing to blow out a second rotor.

  Suddenly however, the rifle clicked dry, and he was out of spare mags. Ducking back inside the store as the floor and wall beside him was blasted by the drone, he slung the rifle over his shoulder and pulled his pistol, the machine swinging round again to unload on Ledger, Angela and Jesse, who’d taken advantage of it firing at Archer to get better cover down an alleyway. The damaged rotors were obviously making it difficult for the operator to keep the machine level; it was tipping around drunkenly, which fortunately for its targets was affecting its aim.

  ‘Go!’ Archer shouted to them, pointing with his arm. ‘Get out of here!’

  But then the drone managed to reposition, moving almost directly over Ledger and the others, a clear line of sight. Not hesitating, Archer fired at the drone as he ran forwards, desperately trying to attract the operator’s attention and give Ledger, Angela and Jesse the chance to escape.

  Archer’s rounds took out a third rotor, the machine firing as it swung around drunkenly, forcing Archer to dive behind a burnt-out car as bullets pounded down around him.

  ‘Archer’s pinned down!’ Burnett said as Thorne and his three men arrived in the street. ‘Chevy, left side.’

  ‘Ledger?’

  ‘I lost him, but he can’t have gone far!’

  The drone spewed rounds into the Chevy with shocking power, shredding the car to pieces, shell casings falling from the sky and tinkling to the concrete, an awesome display of aerial firepower. Deerman followed it up with a grenade from the attachment under his assault rifle, the car blown a foot off the ground as it exploded.

  Clicking dry, the last shots from the drone echoed around the street as it finally crashed to the concrete below, its job done. Their weapons in their shoulders, the four operatives moved across the street towards the flaming wreck of what had once been a car.

  Thorne smiled as they approached, but it quickly vanished once he stepped around the burning wreckage.

  Archer wasn’t there.

  THIRTY FIVE

  A few minutes later, a storm drain lid three blocks away was lifted and pushed to one side and Archer hauled himself out, his entire body wracked in pain.

  He’d been lucky; after taking cover behind the Chevy, he’d spotted one of the city’s large storm drains set into the sidewalk just to his left. Yanking the grate bar out of the way, he made it inside just before the grenade hit. He rolled onto the concrete, cut and bleeding from the broken glass, the rifle abandoned by the Chevy, just his Sig in his hand.

  Staggering slightly, he looked around, trying to catch his bearings, working out where the large drain he’d just crawled through had taken him and where Jesse had said his house was, on Morris Road.

  Looking up at the sky, hearing choppers but unable to see them, he started to head in what he though was the right direction, hoping he’d shaken off the NSA guys.

  As he reached the end of the street, he checked round the corner to see four men, sprinting towards him. Ducking back quickly, Archer watched as the guys raced past, followed a few moments later by three cops, none of them spotting him in the shadows.

  Checking over his shoulder, knowing the four NSA agents would be looking for him, he ran across the street, heading in the direction Jesse had indicated. He was just passing an alley to his left when he heard a low whistle.

  ‘Archer!’ a voice hissed. Turning, he saw Ledger beckoning him over.

  ‘Jesus, are you OK?’ Angela asked, seeing the cuts the shattered glass of the skylight had inflicted.

  Holding his upper arm which had been sliced and was starting t
o throb, he nodded and looked down the alley at the Bridge visible in the distance.

  There were still no red or blue lights to be seen.

  ‘How far is your friend’s place?’ he asked Jesse.

  ‘Next street.’

  Archer nodded, trying to think clearly through the pain. ‘Let’s get the hell out of here.’

  Just three streets behind the group, having discovered Jesse Mayer was running with Harry Ledger, Peralta and Font had been on their way to his house to speak with his foster mother. The best friend of the boy who’d almost killed everyone in the library at Wilson High earlier today, now on the run with the sniper suspect. It didn’t take a genius to work out that this was somehow connected.

  They’d been crossing over the Anacostia Bridge when they’d heard the report that Ledger, Archer, Mayer and Marcia Barrera’s sister had been confirmed as entering the Metro at the Anacostia station. Short on numbers from dealing with the riots and public disorder, vehicles previously blocking the bridge had been diverted, ordered to the Waterfront subway station a few hundred yards away and according to the report one of the two exit points for anyone down in the subway.

  As they crossed the bridge, reports of a major shootout nearby suddenly came in. Realising it could well be their guys, Peralta and Font had arrived to find a scene more resembling a warzone than a suburb of inner city Washington D.C.

  Exiting their car, they stared in amazement at the scene around them.

  What was left of a car on their right was on fire, burning pieces of it scattered across the road and more shell casings than either of them could remember seeing were littering the street. Twenty yards away they saw Metro officers attempting to extinguish flames on a large metal object lying in the middle of the road, dousing it with a couple of fire extinguishers they’d found from somewhere.

  As the flames died down, they could see what looked like gun turrets.

  ‘What the…?’ Peralta started, as Font just stared. ‘What the hell is that?’

  ‘A drone?’ Font replied.

  An officer near them overheard and nodded. ‘I’ve never come across anything like it.’

  ‘Who deployed it?’

  ‘You tell us.’

  Glancing around, Peralta saw a guy in gang colours with two police officers, a few others being held further behind them by more cops. Walking over, he and Font showed their badges to the arresting officers. ‘Was he here when it went down?’

  ‘No idea. He isn’t saying a word.’

  ‘What did you see?’ Peralta asked the guy. He didn’t answer, not even looking at Peralta. Blood had dried on the side of his head from a cut to his temple and his pupils were dilated so wide they were like small plates, the guy blinking repeatedly. He was hopped up on something.

  ‘What did he take?’ Font asked.

  ‘Found this on one of them,’ the cop said, holding up a meth pipe. ‘It’s some new shit they’re all smoking. Numbs them, makes them hyper aggressive, stops them feeling any pain.’

  His partner held up a thick knife and a sub-machine gun in evidence bags.

  ‘He had these on him too.’

  ‘Jesus Christ,’ Peralta said, looking at the weapons, then the man. ‘Start talking, right now, or you won’t get out of the joint until your eightieth birthday. That’s a promise.’

  The man blinked rapidly, swallowing, Peralta’s words seeming to finally get through.

  ‘That thing appeared out of nowhere and started shooting at something on top of that building,’ he said, talking fast. ‘It was crazy, man. It was like a machine gun going off.’

  ‘What was it firing at?’

  ‘Couldn’t see at first .But then some guy ran out and shot at it.’ He nodded to the right. ‘Another dude did the same from across the street.’

  ‘What did these men look like?’

  ‘One of them was Harry Ledger.’

  ‘What? You’re sure?’

  The man nodded quickly. ‘He looked like shit but it was him. There was some chick with him too, and a black kid.’

  ‘Jesse,’ Peralta said to Font. ‘Where’d they go?’

  ‘I don’t remember. Next thing I knew you’s were here.’

  ‘You were knocked out?’

  He twisted his head, showing an injury. ‘He suckered me.’

  ‘So what happened to the man they were shooting at?’ Peralta said, looking over at the wreckage. ‘There’s no body over there.’

  ‘Don’t know, man.’

  ‘And you just happened to be walking past when this all went down?’

  The guy shook his head. ‘We got a message and came over here from Barry Farms.’

  ‘A message? From who?’

  ‘Don’t know. It was an offer we got earlier.’

  ‘Which was?’

  ‘Half a milli to kill Harry Ledger and whoever’s with him tonight.’

  In the north-east of the city in Ward 4, a taxi pulled up in an empty space outside Ally and Maia’s school, Jack looking out of the window from a rear seat and seeing two cop cars parked beside a white van.

  The journey had been sobering to say the least. He’d managed to flag down an off-duty city cab heading out of the area soon after leaving Archer and the others. Driving past Jack, the guy had taken pity on the white guy in his chinos, smart shirt and deck shoes, knowing he wouldn’t last long on those streets dressed like that.

  During the ride Jack had seen the scale of the damage and escalation of violence that had occurred in the brief time he’d been inside his office; it’d shaken him, especially knowing his brother-in-law, Ledger, Angela and the boy were still in the middle of it somewhere. There’d been roadblocks on the bridge and he’d had a nerve-wracking moment when the trunk had been searched, but he’d been allowed through. He was relieved to be out of the danger-zone, but the night was far from over.

  He was also relieved to see two Metro officers stationed outside the main entrance of the school. It seemed a long time ago since he’d dropped his girls off here. Pulling out his wallet to pay the fare, he felt the disassembled pieces of his phone in his pocket; it was taking every ounce of will-power he possessed not to put the phone together and call Sarah to warn her. It was a nightmare situation; his wife was in danger and there was nothing he could do right now to protect her. Seeing as she was there to work, he knew there was every chance she wouldn’t have seen the news and would therefore have no idea that armed men had just tried to kill her husband and brother.

  Get to her before they do, Sam, he willed, concern overriding his anger at how his brother-in-law had got them involved in this. That could wait.

  Paying the fare and stepping out, he closed the door and the cab moved off. Seeing cops at the front entrance to the school made him feel better but also nervous; Archer said the men who’d tried to kill him, Ledger and the boy earlier had been dressed as police officers.

  The two cops stood there expressionlessly as he walked up, their hands not far from the sidearm on their right hips. He had no idea who he could trust right now and his heart started to pound. All he wanted to do was get to his girls.

  ‘Good evening, sir,’ one of the cops said, both of them watching Jack closely.

  ‘Evening.’

  ‘May we have your name?’

  ‘Jack Hardy,’ he said. ‘I’m here for the play. My daughters are performing.’

  One of the cops checked a list he was holding while the other moved forward. ‘We need to pat you down.’

  ‘Of course,’ Jack said, trying to remain cool. The officer stepped closer and Jack tensed. The man frisked him, quickly but thoroughly.

  ‘Thank you, sir,’ he said, looking him in the eye. ‘Enjoy the show.’

  Stepping past them, Jack walked into the school, expelling a long breath. Checking his watch, he saw it was 8:01pm; the show would have only just started. He headed straight for the auditorium, wondering where the hell Archer, Ledger, the boy Jesse and the female reporter were.

  Prayin
g they were still alive.

  THIRTY SIX

  True to his word, Jesse’s friend’s house had been just around the corner, a car parked outside, the lights on inside. Already reluctant to take it, Archer was relieved to see the car was an older model, making it possible to hotwire. Even so, he wasn’t overly enthusiastic as breaking into the car could still attract attention. However, Jesse told them his friend usually left his bedroom window open and he went around back, reappearing with the keys shortly afterwards.

  ‘They see you?’ Archer asked as the boy passed them over.

  He shook his head. ‘My friend’s not there. His mother’s watching the news.’

  Pushing the fob, Archer saw the lights on the car flashing as it unlocked.

  The curtains in the house didn’t move, and the front door didn’t open.

  A few minutes later, with Angela driving and Jesse acting as guide, they passed over the roadblock-free Anacostia Bridge, all of them feeling an enormous surge of relief. In the back seat beside Ledger, Archer glanced over his shoulder through the rear window at the Anacostia River now behind them. He’d never been more glad to get out of a part of a city in his life.

  Because the roadblock hadn’t been re-established, he guessed the FBI believed they were still trapped somewhere down in the subway. However, by now they’d be aware of the confrontation with the drone. Having had some time to think, what had happened in Anacostia had Archer baffled. Contrary to the way their Agency usually operated, this NSA team was attracting a level of attention and leaving so much damage in their wake they might as well have taken out a billboard. Something wasn’t right.