‘ALICIA?’ he shouted, looking left and right between the countless faces of the passing people.
A head turned in his direction. Connor immediately recognized the dark flowing curls and oversized sunglasses.
‘Alicia!’ he cried in relief as he bounded up the steps two at a time.
‘What are you doing here?’ she demanded, both baffled and upset by his unexpected appearance.
‘My job,’ he replied, grabbing her hand and pulling her down the steps.
But Alicia resisted. She tugged her hand free from his grasp. ‘Connor, you’re not my bodyguard.’
‘But I am your friend and we have to leave now!’ he insisted.
‘I’ve already alerted Secret Service,’ she explained, taking off her sunglasses and giving him a defiant stare. ‘I don’t need your help.’
‘They’ll be too late.’ Connor’s gaze swept the Memorial for approaching threats, his alert level firmly at Code Orange. There were fewer tourists now and only a couple of park rangers. The speeding car he’d seen must have pulled up behind the building.
‘What do you mean?’ asked Alicia, hearing the tension in his voice.
‘Your phone, it’s bugged. Someone is intercepting your calls and tracking you now. And it’s not Secret Service.’
A flicker of shock passed across Alicia’s face, then she snorted in disbelief. ‘Listen, if this is some trick to prove yourself –’
‘Far from it,’ Connor cut in. He pointed to the skyline. ‘See for yourself. Washington is under attack. I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you I was your buddyguard before. That wasn’t my choice. But my friendship is real. You have to trust me.’
He offered his hand again.
Alicia looked him in the eyes, trying to judge his sincerity. Under his gaze, her resistance soon crumbled. ‘I do, I do,’ she replied, taking his hand.
‘Then let’s go,’ said Connor.
The two of them turned to run, but blocking their path were four men armed with sub-machine guns.
‘Alicia Mendez, come with us,’ said the lead man.
They all wore matching black jackets and mirrored sunglasses. Each carried an FN P90 sub-machine gun and a holstered SIG Sauer P229. Pinned to their jacket collars were identical red badges with the gold five-pointed star of the Secret Service.
‘You got here quickly,’ remarked Alicia.
‘We were in the vicinity,’ he explained.
‘And who exactly are you?’ asked Connor, not willing to let his guard down.
‘Agent John Walker,’ the man replied, flicking open his credentials. ‘And you?’
Satisfied with the agent’s ID, he replied, ‘Connor Reeves.’
The agent arched an eyebrow. ‘We’d been informed you’d left.’ He glanced at the ominous smoke-filled skyline. ‘Well, you’d best come with us too.’
He signalled to his men who’d been keeping a close watch on their surroundings.
‘Let’s move out.’
The four agents swiftly escorted Alicia and Connor down the steps and round the memorial. They followed a treelined path to the car park. The blacked-out 4×4 was waiting by the kerbside, its engine running. As they approached, Agent Walker keyed his palm mic.
‘Delta Four to Control. Nomad recovered. Destination update requested. Over.’
The agent listened a moment, then keyed his mic again.
‘Received and understood, Control. En route to Blue One. Delta Four out.’ He turned to Alicia. ‘We’re taking you to a safe house,’ he explained.
As he opened the rear passenger door to the 4×4, its engine died. The driver looked over at his team leader with a bewildered expression.
‘It won’t start. All the electrics have shorted out –’
Suddenly the ground erupted with a spray of bullets and the 4×4’s bodywork rattled as if caught in a hailstorm. One of the agents screamed as he was cut down by the gunfire.
‘GET IN!’ yelled Agent Walker, shoving Alicia into the back passenger seat.
Connor dived in after her, pushing her down into the footwell to shield her from the deadly shots.
‘Stay there,’ Agent Walker ordered. He went to slam the door shut, but another blast of bullets ripped across the 4×4’s bodywork. The agent grunted in pain and blood splattered the interior. He slumped forward on to the seat, jamming open the door.
Connor turned to Alicia and saw blood on her too. ‘Are you hit?’ he asked.
She mutely shook her head, unable to take her eyes off the murdered agent. Connor couldn’t allow himself to think about the man’s sudden and violent death. This was a Code Red situation. He had to focus all his attention on getting Alicia out of the ambush alive.
The gun battle raged on. The driver jumped from the immobilized 4×4 and joined the last of his team in returning fire. Connor risked a glance through the tinted windscreen. The enemy had secured good cover, firing from behind the car park’s concrete barriers. The two agents, on the other hand, were in the open, the immobilized bulletproof vehicle their only protection.
Connor ducked as the windscreen thudded under the impact of more rounds. But the bullet-resistant glass held. Then there was an agonized cry as a third agent was downed.
‘Radio for back-up!’ Connor shouted to the driver.
‘Radio’s dead,’ he replied grimly, firing off another shot. ‘And I’m fast running out of ammo.’
‘Then we’ll have to make a break for it,’ said Connor, realizing their chances of survival were dwindling. He didn’t know what the enemies’ intentions were – kill or kidnap – but he couldn’t allow either to happen to Alicia. Peering through the window again, he hunted for a possible escape route. Their only option lay in heading back the way they’d come. But the path was totally exposed for about twenty metres until it reached the treeline. Any escape attempt would be little more than a suicidal dash.
Then Connor remembered his backpack.
‘What are you doing?’ asked Alicia as he hurriedly removed his pack.
‘Making a shield,’ Connor explained, unzipping the panel to double its length. ‘It’s bulletproof.’
‘I’ll give you covering fire,’ said the driver, acknowledging Connor’s intention.
‘What about you?’ asked Connor.
‘Just get Nomad to safety.’
Connor gave him a single grave nod in acknowledgement, conscious of the sacrifice this unknown agent was about to make for them. ‘We’ll head for the trees. Are you ready, Alicia?’
She glanced out of the door. ‘We’ll never make it,’ she said.
‘Imagine you’re racing to the finish line in the four hundred metres,’ said Connor.
Alicia managed a strained smile. ‘OK, but I’m never usually shot at!’
She took a deep breath and steeled herself for the perilous sprint.
‘On my mark,’ said the driver. ‘Three … two …’
Gripping the handle of his backpack, Connor prayed the liquid body armour would do its job.
‘… one … GO!’
The driver blasted the enemy with a storm of bullets from his sub-machine gun. Clambering over Agent Walker’s body, Connor bolted out of the car with Alicia. He kept the backpack shield high to protect them as they ran. With his other arm he held Alicia close by his side so she was always in his cover. Their feet pounded in unison across the gravel path.
‘Whatever happens, don’t stop!’ ordered Connor.
They were halfway when they heard the driver’s gun give out. There was a rapid return of fire and a pained cry.
But Connor daren’t look back.
‘STOP OR WE’LL SHOOT!’ shouted one of the gunmen.
They had just 10 metres to the treeline – 8 … 5… The ground beneath their feet spat dirt as a spray of warning fire cut across their path.
Alicia screamed but Connor urged her onwards. They were almost there when a barrage of bullets struck the backpack. The brutal impact knocked Connor off his feet. They stumbled the last few metres before collapsing together behind the trunk of an elm tree.
‘Are you all right?’ Alicia gasped, realizing he’d taken the full force of the hits.
‘Yes …’ Connor managed to reply. His shoulder felt bruised, but the liquid body armour had stopped the rounds from doing any lethal damage.