Sharp Shot

“Ardman might help,” said Rich.

“Dad’s boss,” said Jade quickly, glaring at Rich. “He has connections too.”

They turned out on to the lane, heading the same way as they had the night before.

“Best not go back to your cottage. They might be watching it.”

“I’ll call Ardman,” said Rich. “As soon as I can get a signal. Hey—have you got a mobile?” If McCain’s was with a different operator he might have a signal.

But McCain shook his head. “I left home in a bit of a hurry. Didn’t have time to pick it up.”

“Tell me about it,” said Jade.

Rich checked his mobile again. His text message was no longer in the outbox, so he hoped that meant it had been sent. But he didn’t say anything. Best not to raise their hopes until he was sure there was a good reason.

They drove for over half an hour before they saw another vehicle. It was still very early in the morning and the country lanes were empty. A silver Mercedes pulled out of a side road behind them. It kept its distance. The car was still with them as they reached the outskirts of a village.

“We should stop and borrow a phone or something,” said Jade.

McCain checked the rearview mirror. “I’d rather keep going,” he said. “I think that car’s following us.”

Rich twisted round to see. The car was still keeping its distance. “How can you tell?”

“Let’s find out.”

McCain slowed as they entered a 30mph limit. Another sign said: Welcome to Boscombe. The Mercedes drew closer. Rich could see the driver clearly now, but he looked very ordinary. Just a man on his way to work.

“I think I recognise the driver,” McCain confirmed. “His colleagues call him ‘Nail’, because he’s such a hardcase.”

He put his foot down, and sure enough, the car behind began to speed up too. At the same moment, Rich’s phone rang.

It was voicemail. He struggled to hear the message as the Range Rover tore through the village. A second car had pulled out behind the Mercedes. Its lights were flashing, and after a moment the Merc pulled over to let the car past. It was a dark BMW. The driver was wearing sunglasses, and so was the passenger.

The voice in Rich’s ear was hard to hear. Jade was hissing at him, asking who it was.

“Voicemail. From Dex Halford,” Rich told her. “He must have got my text.”

“You sent him a text?”

“Don’t call him back,” said McCain. “They may be homing in on your phone. Maybe that’s how they found us.”

“Can they do that?” asked Jade.

“Oy!” Rich shouted. He’d listened to the whole message and heard almost none of it. He played it through again. The signal was bad, it kept breaking up. His battery bleeped a warning.

“It’s Dex, I got your text, but…except to voicemail. So I hope you get this. McCain’s a good guy; you’ll be OK with him. Different story…Darrow, but never mind that. I’ll get on to Ardman, send…Leave your phone on and we can…Got to go—that’s my other phone ringing. Good luck!”

“He’s getting on to Ardman to send help,” Rich told them.

“How will Ardman find us?” asked Jade.

The BMW roared up close, and McCain weaved the Range Rover across the narrow village street. He took a corner too fast, clipping a parked car. The BMW slowed, allowing them to draw clear again.

“He said to leave my phone on. I guess they can trace it too,” said Rich.

They were leaving the village. There were two dark BMWs behind them now, but no sign of the Mercedes.

“Can we keep ahead of them, at least till help arrives?” Jade asked.

“How long will that be?” asked McCain. “We don’t have a lot of fuel.”

“And my phone doesn’t have a lot of…” Rich’s phone beeped again. The display faded and died.

“Oh great,” said Jade. “Now they’ll never find us.”

“So we have to get away from these jokers on our own,” said McCain. “Let’s see if we can shake them off.”

The road ahead turned in a tight bend. McCain dropped down a gear and took the bend fast. Then he stamped hard on the brake.

Hovering above the road in front of them, just a few feet off the ground and almost blocking the width of the lane, was a black helicopter. The side door was open, and a woman dressed in a dark trouser suit and wearing sunglasses leaned out. Her long, dark hair was blowing round her face, but she was utterly focused on what she was doing.

She was holding a rifle, and she was aiming it at the Range Rover skidding towards her, smoke rising from the protesting tyres.

4 (#ulink_dcab67b1-5699-5bd6-942f-aadfbe563a18)

Just as it seemed the Range Rover was screeching to a halt, McCain took his foot off the brake and floored the accelerator. The tyres spun on the roadway before starting to grip and the vehicle shot forwards— straight at the helicopter.

The woman with the rifle fired. Jade saw the flash from the muzzle. From the angle it looked like she’d been aiming for the tyres, hoping to disable the Range Rover so the men in the cars behind could catch them.

But the Range Rover’s change of speed had thrown out her aim and the bullet thumped harmlessly into the asphalt. The woman had no time for a second shot. The helicopter was so low over the road that the Range Rover was heading straight for it…

The pilot reacted quickly. The nose of the helicopter moved upwards. Grit and dirt was blown across the road by the updraft as the helicopter started to rise.

“Hold on!” shouted McCain, as the Range Rover continue to accelerate.

“We’re going to hit!” yelled Rich.

The windscreen exploded as the Range Rover slammed into one of the helicopter’s skids. McCain pushed the crazed glass out of the way and kept going. The Range Rover zig-zagged down the narrow lane, grazing a hedge and bumping over the verge before McCain got it under control again.

Jade turned to look out the back window. The helicopter was still trying to climb. But it was twisting awkwardly in the air, thrown off balance by the impact. It tilted too far to one side and the end of a rotor blade touched the surface of the road.

With a wrenching of metal, the blade was torn off and went spinning away. The helicopter fell like a stone, blocking the road. The woman in the dark suit and sunglasses struggled out of the side door, which was now at the top of the helicopter.

There was a distant squeal of brakes. Jade saw the woman knocked clear as the helicopter jolted with the impact of the BMW.

“Way to go!” yelled Rich as they took the next bend and the wreckage of the helicopter disappeared from sight.

“But where do we go?” asked Jade. “What if they’ve got another helicopter? These people are serious.”