by Paul Heron
Michael listened to all this from his bed, feeling agitated, growing restless. There he was, sitting on bed rest listening to Ringo and Ahmad debate cars, watching Ajit slurp on his precious tea, and Eduardo throttle his phone while the rest were out there in harms way. One week ago, he would have gladly given the responsibility to someone else, but now he felt different. The boy who wanted to change the world was starting to give a shit about saving the world and everyone in it. It took him to be involved in two murders, kidnap two presidents, become the most wanted face on the planet, and realise his lifelong interest in mythology was his interest because he was destined to be a part of that world. Now – he was stuck on the side-lines while the rest of his team continued without him.
‘Alban, pull over beside that Range Rover,’ Maria said. ‘He's going in the back seat. Enrique-’
‘On it,’ Enrique replied before Maria could finish. ‘Calling our friend now.’
‘Okay, Marcel. You and Carolina help me get him out of the car. The rest of you guys in the other car, keep your distance and I want to see you all with your guns in your hands and not their hustlers. The man the world's looking for is in our possession.’ Scarlett didn’t need to say another word.
‘Maybe someone should stay with him?’ Carolina said. ‘It doesn't feel right just leaving him here.’
‘Nothing about this bloody mess is right,’ Marcel said, ‘but who? It’s not as if we can just hang around waiting with him.’
‘And getting arrested is a complication we could do without,’ Sofia said. ‘Like Michael said in France, it seems we'll break countless laws in pursuit of these fragments. Kidnapping world leaders for our own good is something we'll all have to get used to.’
‘Avril and Pierre did say you guys were quickly changing into seasoned operatives, no conscience,’ Maria laughed.
‘Yeah, and that is what will help. It may seem cold, even heartless now, but trust us, it will help in the end,’ Enrique said.
Michael began rubbing his head, the wound was starting to itch.
Ringo, Ajit and Eduardo left, leaving Michael there with Ahmad who was still quiet. He had seen the same expression on the Syrian’s face in London. Michael knew he'd have to keep a close eye on Ahmad; he was a liability. Very unstable, which was understandable. Michael could relate if he imagined it was his parents.
‘Ahmad.’ Michael tried to get Ahmad's attention, but he just kept that blank stare, as if the lights were on but there was definitely nobody home. ‘Ahmad,’ Michael repeated, this time louder. Ahmad looked up at Michael, speechless. For a moment they both just sat, staring at each other, as if trying to read the other’s mind. ‘If they're here, we're not leaving without them.’
Ringo came back, scratching his head, looking bored.
‘We’re on our way back now,’ Scarlett said. ‘The president is in the car and our friend is watching him. He’ll be okay.’
Michael noticed Ahmad clenching his jaws, his breathing deepened. ‘Ahmad, are you okay?’ He grabbed the fresh water Ringo brought him. He downed two Paracetamol, swallowing hard before the tablets had a chance to dissolve in his mouth. ‘Ahmad, we don’t need any problems tomorrow, got it? If you do anything stupid, you'll regret it.’
Speechless, and with his breathing deepening, Ahmad got up and stormed out of the room, slamming the bedroom door so hard it sent the wall clock crashing to the ground.
Ringo looked at Michael. ‘I think we should leave him here, he’s a loose cannon.’
‘I know.’ Michael sighed, lying back down on his bed, noticing the soundless TV mounted on the wall above an oak effect dressing table. The programme was talking about this exciting new discovery – a rock with more reactive energy the world has ever seen. The news report was interviewing local Spanish residents: men and women, old and young who were excited about what it was. They thought the president would be right in investing in research of this fragment to find out where it came from and if there'd be more. Michael laughed sarcastically. ‘Yeah, a fragment that’s going to kill us all. This is quite a task we have, Ringo.’
‘I know, pal. It’s hard to get your head around it,’ Ringo said, ‘but look on the bright side: you could all be attending lectures right now back in Little Camberly. Instead you're all flying around the world, secretly trying to get the politicians out of the mess they’re in.’
‘Guess you're right.’ Michael agreed. ‘But the sad thing is: nobody will ever know it's us who's doing it!’
‘It's better that way. You’re all wanted, if we get caught now, we're all fucked.’ Ringo chucked a pillow at Michael. ‘So, don’t be getting caught!’
‘Screw getting caught,’ Eduardo said, as he and Ajit walked in again. ‘Being held captive in the jungle was enough prison for me.’ He stumbled on his words, sounding like he wished he could have pulled them back into his mouth.
‘If anyone gets us caught it'll be Mohammad,’ Ajit joked, as he sat down beside Ringo.
Michael laughed. Then suddenly he felt something in the pit of his stomach. He felt guilty about laughing at Ajit's remark. He shrugged off the feeling and thought it must be the medication. He thought to himself that if any of them were going to jeopardise the mission, it would be Ahmad.
‘We got a problem,’ Ringo said, jumping up from his seat looking at his phone. ‘We gotta go, now!’ He ran out the room. ‘I’ll start the car. Mancini agents are following them.’
‘Fuck!’ Michael jumped up from the bed, feeling dizzy and weak. He grabbed his phone, six missed calls from Mohammad. He played the voicemail. Mohammad was in a panic, telling them to come help them. ‘Let’s move.’ He ran after Ringo, followed by Eduardo and Ajit.
Chapter Twenty
‘YOU THREE GO TO THE car, I'll grab Ahmad. We're going to need everyone!’ Michael sprinted down the stairs into the sitting room. No sign of Ahmad. He ran to the kitchen, shouting his name. Nothing. He ran through the kitchen and out into the back garden. Still nothing. ‘Ahmad, we’ve got trouble. Let’s go!’ he shouted into the air, as he pulled his phone from his pocket. Before he could call Ahmad, his phone rang. ‘Mohammad are you all right? We’re on our way!’
‘Michael, we're driving in circles. They're following us, they’re everywhere.’
Michael turned and sprinted back through the house. Running out the front door, he heard the roar of the Rolls Royce, Ringo revving the 6.6 litre engine. Michael jumped into the back seat. ‘Mohammad, you need to keep your distance from them, got it?’
‘The Rolls Royce they're in will get away from them no problem,’ Ringo shouted. ‘What car are Mancini agents in?’
‘Mohammad said they're being followed by an old heap of shit, but Alban says it’s a 1970 Dodge Charger,’ Michael said, knowing the ghost wouldn't outrun the Charger.
Ringo just laughed in disbelief. ‘Okay, tell them to just keep moving.’
‘We're tracking them,’ Eduardo shouted, glaring at his laptop screen.
Michael was not happy leaving with one man down. ‘Where the hell is Ahmad? He’s one pain in the ass!’ He punched the back of the front passenger seat, making Ajit jump. ‘We should tie him up and leave him somewhere until this is all done.’
The Rolls raced down the driveway. The dry dirt was whipped into a cloud as the car roared towards the gate. ‘Michael don't lose your cool, that’s something a leader can’t do,’ Ringo said.
‘Okay, then you kick his ass when we get him then!’
Ringo just laughed. ‘Well, there is that.’
‘I told him not to do anything that could be dangerous for us or jeopardise the mission.’ Michael looked out the window, trying to piece together a way to shake off the Mancini agents. Still feeling dizzy, he caressed his head, hoping it would leave. ‘Have any of you got any idea what we’re going to do when we reach them?’
‘We'll figure it out, amigo,’ Eduardo said, pulling his phone from his pocket. ‘I’m calling Mohammad back.’
Michael tried to contain
his rage at Ahmad; whatever he was doing, he was causing unnecessary stress to the rest of the group.
As the car raced past the sporadically located farmhouses, Michael had a brainwave. ‘Ringo, can you drive anything else?’
They all looked at him, not a clue where he was going with it.
‘We’ll grab another car somewhere,’ Michael said, as they approached a house next to a warehouse. A lorry was parked outside the building. Michael’s eyes lit up. ‘Pull over here, Ringo. Now!’
‘Mohammad, it's Eduardo. I’m putting you on loudspeaker.’
‘Where are you?’ Mohammad's usual laid-back attitude had taken a more serious turn.
Ringo pulled over on the side of the road.
‘Mohammad, it's Michael. I’ve got an idea.’ Michael jumped out of the car, still feeling dizzy and sick. He ran towards a white Volvo FH500 lorry. The vehicle was equipped with a sixty foot long trailer that had Spanish Logistics written across the side in bright yellow markings. As he got to the driver side, he stepped up and grabbed the door handle to balance himself. The dizziness was fading in and out. ‘Screw this!’ Closing his eyes, he shook his head. He felt he was going to collapse.
‘Michael, what are you thinking?’ Ringo said, arriving behind him. ‘You need to relax, pal. You're not yourself.’ Ringo began to whisper; afraid the lorry’s owner would hear them. ‘Remember what I said earlier about us not getting caught. It's reckless stuff like this that will get us caught.’ Michael began to retch, but nothing came up. ‘Michael, you're not thinking what I know you’re thinking, are you?’ Ringo started to laugh. ‘This is some ballsy stuff!’
‘What if you drove this at the Mancini agents, ram them. We've got to stop them from catching the others. We’ve nothing else to go on!’ Michael put his elbow through the window. He pulled his phone from his pocket.
‘Hurry up you guys,’ Ajit shouted from the Rolls.
‘What are you doing now?’ Ringo hissed.
‘I’m checking the internet how to hotwire an engine without a key.’
‘Amateur, get in and let me behind the wheel, I’ll do it.’ Ringo pushed Michael into the cabin, over onto the passenger's side and took the driver's seat. He pulled his keys out of his pocket. A screwdriver and knife were on the key chain. He removed the tiny screws and ripped the casing from beneath the steering wheel; pulled out some exposed wires, and within thirty seconds he had the lorry's engine running.
‘Can you drive this thing, and we'll figure out how to drive the Rolls?’ Michael had a look of mischief on his face. Ringo threw the keys to the Rolls at Michael. ‘Right, we passed a single-track lane about three hundred yards back. I saw a sign saying newly built homes coming soon. If we can get the Mancini agents to follow Alban down that lane, we can use this to block their car in.’ Michael called Ajit who was in the other car still. ‘Ajit, how far away are they now?’
‘Twenty minutes.’ Ajit sounded, sounding agitated. ‘Whatever we're doing, it’s got to be now, Michael. So, get a move on!’
As Michael jumped out of the lorry, Eduardo ran right into him, his nerves a wreck as usual. Eduardo and Ajit were computer geniuses, but when it came to this side of the mission, they were out of their element. ‘What's going on? We've got to go.’ He looked up into the cabin. ‘We’re not taking this thing, are we?’
Michael smiled. ‘Do you want to travel with Ringo in this? I'll drive the Rolls.’
‘Don’t mess this up, Michael!’ Ringo shouted. ‘That's a powerful car!’
Eduardo jumped into the lorry, swearing repeatedly under his breath. Michael ran back to the Rolls.
‘Michael!’ Ajit shouted, sounding increasingly pissed off. ‘You need to see Dr Rizzo again. Look at you, you’re bleeding again from the head.’ He pulled a piece of tissue from his jacket pocket and touched the back of Michael's head.
‘What the hell are you doing?’ Michael flinched, as Ajit touched his head. But when Ajit held the tissue up, he realised how deep the cut was.
‘Well done, Michael! Dumbass! Stitches must have come out.’ Michael muttered.
‘You need to take it easy!’ Ajit said. He looked at the car keys in Michael’s hand. ‘You definitely can’t drive this car.’
‘Okay, you drive then.’ Michael chucked the keys at Ajit. ‘Don’t worry. It’s just back down the road, a couple of hundred yards.’
‘I’m sorry. Impossible to drive this.’ Ajit's eyes darted everywhere but in Michael's direction. ‘I’ve never driven before, Michael!’ His voice spewed out a strange high pitch tone.
‘I’ve never driven before either. But I have an idea how to. Don't ask me how. I'm still trying to figure it out myself.’ He looked at Ajit, who was shaking his head. Michael paused and sighed. ‘Look, it’s either you or me. Ringo’s taking the lorry.’ Eduardo shouted from the lorry for them to hurry up. ‘Okay, give me the keys then, I’ll drive.’
‘Shit shit shit shit!’ Ajit dropped his head into his hands.
Michael burst out laughing at how crazy the situation was getting. ‘Look, we're outta time.’
Ringo put the full beam headlights on, blinding the two of them.
‘Give me the keys, Now! I'll drive then!’ Michael shouted.
‘I'll drive!’ Ajit shouted. ‘Your dumbass can’t drive, you dick!’
‘Great.’ Michael jumped out of the driver seat and ran around to the passenger side, signalling a thumbs up to Ringo. He jumped in. Ajit was sitting behind the steering wheel. He started the engine. He looked at Michael as he gently pressed the accelerator, sending the revs through the roof. ‘Okay, what do I do?’
Ringo honked the horn. Michael stuck his arm out the window to signal that they were preparing to go. ‘I’m not completely sure, with this car,’ Michael said as he called Carolina, connecting the call through the sound system.
‘Not sure? What do you mean not sure? You asshole, you said you knew how to!’ Ajit screamed. ‘Mr Know-it-all, we're going to crash!’
Michael felt himself becoming dizzy again. Ajit's screams felt like they were cutting a hole in his eardrums. ‘Okay, you feel three pedals at your feet. Think ABC backwards. So, ABC from right to left. Accelerator, break and clutch.’ He pointed down at the pedals. ‘You need to press down the pedal on the left before you put it in gear.’
‘I press the clutch, then choose a gear?’
‘Yes, and keep the clutch pressed to the floor until I tell you to release it.’
Ajit pressed the clutch, and grabbed the gear stick, moving it into first. ‘What do I do now?’
‘Okay, slowly release the clutch and at the same time press down on the accelerator.’
‘That’s it?’ Ajit screamed with excitement. ‘Okay, buckle up, man!’ The car revved like they were on the starting grid of a Formula One track. Michael released the handbrake and the car moved forward, stalling instantly. ‘Stupid bastard car!’ Ajit punched the steering wheel, hurting his hand in the process.
‘Not so fast. You have to release the clutch extremely slow.’
Ajit started the engine again. Ringo flashed the lights and honked the horn again. Ajit was good at remembering what to do. This time, he released the clutch and pressed the accelerator, moving the car slowly. ‘Okay, you piece of luxurious crap, get us out of here.’ He coached the car. ‘Grab my jacket and pass me the tissue inside.’ Michael pulled a packet of tissue from the inside pocket and pulled a tissue out, handing it to Ajit.
Ajit dabbed his forehead, as the car continued to build up speed, merging onto the country road. ‘Shit shit shit shit! Ajit, what the hell are you doing,’ he chanted to himself, his glasses resting on the edge of his nose.
‘You're doing great.’ Michael reassured him. ‘Now, when the speedo reaches ten mph, change up into second gear, then keep changing up when you hear the car revs going too high.’ The car sped up. They were finally on the move, with the lorry right behind them.
Michael received a call from Carolina. ‘Where are you?’
/> ‘We're about fifteen minutes from your location. But, how are you feeling?’
‘I’m fine, stop worrying!’
‘You’re not fine, Michael. If you hurt yourself even more, I’ll kick your ass!’
‘I’ll be okay when we get you guys away from them! Are you sure it’s only one car that’s following you?’ Michael looked across at Ajit focussing intently on the road, his fingers wrapped tightly around the steering wheel, his knuckles white.
‘Yes, there's only one car, but Maria seems to think they could be using a chopper too.’
‘Great,’ Michael said, as they approached the private lane to their right. ‘Okay, Carolina we've arrived at the location where we'll meet you. We're going to trap them in a derelict looking piece of land, a building site. Look out for a discreet looking single-track lane. There will be a lorry with Spanish Logistics written on the side. We need you guys to drive up the path into the building site. Hopefully they’ll follow you in. We're going to use the lorry to block them in.’
‘A lorry?’ Carolina asked. ‘Where the hell did you get your hands on a lorry?’
‘That’ll be a story for another time, just be careful, okay? We’re waiting for you.’ Michael stepped out of the car and walked in a circle familiarizing himself with his surroundings.
‘Oh yeah, by the way, we saw a Rolls Royce destroying the speed limit past us about ten minutes ago, we’re guessing Ahmad has cracked again!’
Michael looked at Ringo and Eduardo who'd joined him. ‘He disappeared earlier, so I’d say that's Ahmad, yes.’
‘We’ll see you in a few minutes.’ Carolina hung up.
Ajit joined the three. Michael put his phone in his pocket looking at the others – Ringo, Ajit and Eduardo all looking at Michael with concerned expressions.
‘Amigo, you need to take it easy, you look like you're ready to drop. Just take it easy, we’ve got this,’ Eduardo said.
For a moment Michael felt relieved. Eduardo’s words were like the fastest working headache tablet he could have taken. He felt he wasn't going to be thought of as incapable of leading the team. As it stood, they were literally running and flying from country to country with the world and the Otherworld on their backs. The job couldn’t have been any more pressurised. And for some reason Michael was being pulled from one direction to the other.