The Persona Protocol - By Andy McDermott Page 0,158
than an electrical wire. ‘I’ve got it!’
‘Okay,’ said Adam. ‘Now put the scalpel blade under it, and pull outwards.’
She did so. There was resistance, the edges of the cut rising upwards as the wire pulled against them – then with an almost musical tink it broke. Bianca gasped. ‘It’s gone!’
Adam’s own relief was less vocal, but just as heartfelt. ‘Okay,’ he said, exhaling sharply. ‘There’s some gauze in the kit. Put a piece over the cut, then stick a bandage over it.’
‘What about cleaning it?’
‘No time. We need to get out of here.’ As she covered the wound, he rummaged in the bag, producing something the size of a smartphone.
‘What’s that?’ Bianca asked.
‘Something that would have every auto manufacturer in the world suing STS if they ever found out about it.’ He tapped at the buttons on the device’s face. A line of tiny LEDs along the top of the gadget flickered – then the garage echoed with the chirps of dozens of remote locking systems, indicators flashing.
Bianca looked up from her nursing work in amazement. ‘How did you do that?’
‘It’s an override – it’s got the lock and alarm codes for just about every car on the market.’ He pocketed the remote. ‘Are you done?’
She finished pressing the bandage into place. ‘Yes. Does it hurt?’
‘Yeah, but there isn’t time to worry about it. Get the gear, we need to find a car.’ He stood, pulling his clothing back into place as he turned to survey the garage. ‘Something fast, but not too showy . . .’ He managed a smile. ‘There we go.’
Bianca collected the PERSONA, then turned to see what he was looking at. Not knowing anything about American automobiles, all she could tell was that the vehicle in question was some sort of glossy black muscle car. ‘Is that good?’
‘Hell yes, it’s good,’ Adam replied. ‘And I guess I just found out something else about myself.’
‘What’s that?’
‘I’m a Ford man.’ Suppressing a wince at the pain in his lower back, he picked up the other case and the bag and hurried down the row to the waiting Mustang.
Bianca followed. ‘I used to have a Ford Ka. One-point-two litre. I’m guessing this is a bit more powerful.’
‘Just a bit. Get in.’ He opened the driver’s door, dropping the case on to the back seat, then took out the override and climbed inside.
She saw his face twist with pain as he sat, putting pressure on the wound. ‘Are you sure you’re all right?’
‘I’ll live. Assuming we actually get out of this alive.’ He flipped the remote around in his hand, thumbing open a panel in its base. ‘Okay, let’s see. Ford, Ford . . .’ He turned a small knurled wheel, then pushed it. A sliver of metal sprang out of the remote with a click. He slid it into the ignition slot and turned it. The Mustang’s five-litre V8 started up with a rumble that echoed through the garage. ‘All right!’
‘That’s the happiest I’ve seen you since we ran out of that pub,’ Bianca said, almost teasing.
‘Apparently I like my wheels. You ready?’ She nodded, and he pulled out of the space, turning back towards the ramp. He accelerated up it, the exhaust note booming in his wake.
‘There!’ said Morgan, pointing at the screens. A dark shape emerged from the bowels of the office building the drone was observing. ‘Someone’s leaving. Kyle, follow it.’
‘We don’t have his tracker,’ said Kyle. ‘It could just be some dude going home early.’
‘He went in there to disable the tracker. We can’t risk losing them.’ He glanced at the map. Baxter and his men had been released, the three STS Suburbans now racing with the police vehicles towards Adam’s last known location – but they were still two blocks distant.
‘It could be a decoy,’ Tony cautioned. ‘They might be splitting up.’
Morgan shook his head. ‘Adam somehow persuaded Dr Childs to help him do this, even though she must have known the consequences. They’ll stick together.’ He looked back at the view from the UAV’s camera. ‘Kyle, why isn’t the auto-tracking on that car yet? And zoom in closer – we can’t even tell the model from this height!’
‘There’s, uh, some sort of glitch in the system,’ Kyle replied unconvincingly. ‘I can’t get a lock on it – uh-oh.’ The image rocked as the drone slewed around. The black car swept off the edge of the screen. ‘Must be turbulence or something! A jetstream, maybe.’