The Persona Protocol - By Andy McDermott Page 0,179

A vehicle was approaching. She hurriedly tried to shield the gun from the driver’s sight with her body.

‘You really don’t have a clue what you’re doing, do you?’ said Harper, voice oozing condescension. ‘You don’t even know how to hold a gun properly.’

‘I know which end the bullets come out of,’ she countered.

Another flick of his gaze, then he looked back at the gun. ‘But you don’t know how to take off the safety catch.’

She almost turned the automatic away from him to check it – but stopped herself. ‘Nice try. But Adam wouldn’t have given me a gun that I couldn’t use.’

‘Well done, Dr Childs,’ he said, with a faint shrug. ‘You’re not quite as gullible as I thought. It doesn’t matter, though, because that gave Baxter time to get you in his sights.’

‘And I thought I wasn’t gullible,’ Bianca scoffed. But then she saw an expectancy in his expression as he glanced behind her once more – and realised that the oncoming car still hadn’t passed.

Keeping the gun aimed at him, she looked back . . .

And saw a black Suburban cruising slowly towards them. Baxter leaned from the passenger window, the needle-thin red line of his MP5’s laser sight fixed upon her.

‘Drop the gun!’ he shouted. ‘Do it or I shoot!’

Fear froze her, her hand refusing to obey Baxter’s order even to save her life. She stared helplessly back along the laser beam as it moved up to her head—

Thudding footsteps – and she was slammed painfully to the ground as Harper charged at her like a bull. He tore the gun from her grasp, twisting her arm up behind her back with such force that her shoulder joint crackled. She screamed. ‘Limey bitch,’ he growled. ‘Baxter! Get over here!’

The Suburban pulled up, Baxter jumping out. Two more SUVs came speeding in from the other direction. ‘Are you okay, sir?’ Baxter called.

‘I’m fine. How did you find me?’

He nodded towards the Cadillac. ‘All government vehicles have trackers. When you didn’t answer the phone, I realised that Gray must have got you, so we hauled ass to catch up.’ He surveyed the area. ‘Where is Gray?’

‘On his way to DC – with the disk,’ said Harper, standing. Bianca tried to move, but he shoved her back down with his foot. ‘He’s in a black Mustang – Maryland plates, registration BAR 643. He went west, towards the Parkway.’

‘We’ll get him.’ Baxter looked down at Bianca. ‘What about her?’

‘Leave her with me – you need to take out Gray.’

Baxter nodded to his men. ‘Okay, you heard him! We catch that son of a bitch and take him down. Let’s go!’ He hurried back to his vehicle. With a triple roar of big V8s, the Suburbans lunged away.

Bianca looked up at Harper. ‘What are you going to do with me?’

He sneered. ‘You’re going to be my chauffeuse.’ He stepped back, keeping the gun on her. ‘Get in and drive.’

Adam made a call as the Mustang raced along the Suitland Parkway, entering one of the numbers he had memorised earlier: the office of the National Security Adviser. ‘This is Admiral Gordon Harper,’ he said, his voice taking on his borrowed persona’s bulldog growl. ‘I need to speak to Alan Sternberg immediately.’

He knew that calling from a number not on the list of secure lines would invoke extra security precautions, but he was ready for them. ‘Please stand by, Admiral,’ said the operator. ‘Can you give me your G-2 code, please?’

‘Four-zero-two-five-baker-delta-seven,’ he replied, rattling out the sequence with machine-gun speed.

‘And your daily password?’

‘Anthracite.’

A short pause while the codes were checked, then: ‘Thank you, Admiral. Connecting you to Mr Sternberg.’

Adam waited, guiding the Mustang past slower traffic on the two-lane highway. Finally, he heard a voice. ‘Gordon,’ said Sternberg, dislike contained beneath a veneer of professional politeness. ‘What can I do for you?’

‘Sir, this is Adam Gray from the Persona Project at STS,’ Adam said, speaking quickly to prevent Sternberg from interrupting. ‘I apologise for the deception, but it’s of vital importance that I speak to you.’ The other man tried to cut in, but he kept talking. ‘I have proof that Secretary of State Sandra Easton was killed in Pakistan because a senior US official leaked her route to al-Qaeda.’

It took the startled Sternberg a couple of seconds to reply. ‘Agent Gray, as I understand it you’re currently on the run after stealing classified data from STS. Why should I believe you?’

‘Because I used the PERSONA device to take the memories of the