The Persona Protocol - By Andy McDermott Page 0,155
fire. Bullets clanked against the Hyundai’s nose, shattering a headlight. More chewed into the hood before the stream of automatic fire punched holes through the windscreen. One round smacked into the headrest mere inches above Adam’s skull.
His view was obscured by spiderweb cracks in the glass, but he could still see enough to make out the Suburban still charging towards him. He swerved sharply to avoid it, riding the car up hard on to the sidewalk.
Plastic recycling bins lined up outside a brownstone apartment building scattered like tenpins as the Hyundai ploughed into them. The SUV whipped past, tyres shrieking as its driver hurled it into a skidding U-turn.
Baxter’s vehicle was not alone. Another two Suburbans charged around the corner, strobes flaring. One tried to block the Hyundai’s path – but the hulking vehicle couldn’t turn fast enough. The Elantra shot past and swung back on to the tarmac as the SUV spun out.
Baxter fired again, more bullets searing down the street—
They hit the Hyundai’s tail as Adam flung the car around the corner, cutting off his line of fire. It would take the Suburbans several seconds to come about and rejoin the pursuit – but the government-issue SUVs were equipped with upgraded suspensions and more powerful engines than the standard civilian models. The station wagon stood no chance of outrunning them. And unlike the police, the STS pursuit team had direct access to his tracker, pinpointing his position.
No escape. And Baxter had fired not at the car, but its occupants. He had been given clear instructions.
Kill the fugitives.
42
Field Surgery
A section of the video wall had been switched to the live feed from the UAV’s camera. The drone was still several blocks from its target, the view partially obscured by buildings – but enough of the street was visible to show flashes of fire coming from one of the Suburbans. ‘Whoa!’ exclaimed Kyle. ‘Are Baxter’s guys shooting at them?’
Tony rounded on Morgan. ‘Martin, what’s John doing?’ he demanded. ‘If he kills Adam and Bianca, we’ll never find out what the hell all this is about!’
Morgan hesitated uncomfortably before replying. ‘Orders from Harper. Use whatever force is necessary to take Adam down.’
‘Take him down – or take him out?’ Tony turned to Kiddrick. ‘What’s on that disk that’s worth killing him for?’
‘The contents of the disk are classified,’ Kiddrick said stiffly.
‘Even from Adam? How the hell can somebody’s own memories be kept a secret from them?’
‘We have our orders,’ said Morgan, face grim. ‘If Adam had surrendered immediately, it wouldn’t be necessary.’ He sounded as if he were trying to convince himself as much as anyone else.
Tony made a disgusted sound and looked back at the screens. All three Suburbans had rejoined the pursuit, panthers bearing down upon their smaller and weaker prey.
Bianca risked lifting her head enough to peer into the wing mirror. ‘Oh God! They’re catching up!’
‘Stay down,’ Adam warned her. But he couldn’t follow his own advice, needing to see the street ahead through the damaged windshield.
And that was not the only part of the Elantra that had suffered injury. He heard a piercing hiss from the engine compartment – steam escaping from the bullet-punctured radiator. The Hyundai was dying.
But he couldn’t stop. That would spell death for more than just the car.
Sirens ahead – several of them. Getting closer.
He looked in the mirror. The Suburbans were about two hundred yards behind, but quickly gaining. Without Holly Jo’s guidance he no longer knew which way to turn to evade the approaching cops – although if they beat him to the next intersection it wouldn’t make any difference.
He willed the car to go faster, but the stench of boiling coolant and oil told him that the hope was futile. The speedometer needle, which had been pinned at seventy, started to fall.
Wisps of steam blew back along the hood. The engine was overheating, strained beyond its limits.
Sixty-five. Sixty. The chase was almost over . . .
The Elantra shot through the intersection just ahead of three charging police vehicles off to the right.
Adam checked the mirror. The lead cruiser appeared—
But it didn’t follow him. Instead it screeched to a stop, the two other cars following suit to form a ragged barricade across the junction. Cops jumped out, raising weapons – but not at the Hyundai.
They were aiming at Baxter’s team.
‘What the fuck?’ yelled Baxter as the MPD vehicles blocked his path. Cops took up position behind them, aiming pistols and shotguns over the hoods and trunks. ‘What are these assholes doing?’