“We know what you mean,” Dahl growled. “As if you care about these people one bit.”
The man shrugged indifferently. “I get more money if this whole thing goes under the radar, that’s all. Now, we have placed several…” he paused, “… preventative measures hidden around the town. Snipers. CCTV cameras. Mines.” He coughed.
“Mines?” Mai exploded. “Are you crazy?”
“Raving fuckin’ bonkers, lady. But that’s part of my charm, and part of the deal. Don’t try to leave or get a message out. We will know. Finish the goddamn tournament. That’s why you’re here. Now — on to the technical stuff.”
The man pushed several items across the table toward them.
“Basic Bluetooth-equipped burner phones so we can get in touch with you. Take only the one with your name on it. Look often for text messages as well as listening for calls. Yep, it could get you killed in an awkward moment, but that’s a risk I’m willing to take.” Yellow teeth grinned sickeningly from between thin, cracked lips.
“This is a chip that will monitor your vital signs,” the man went on. “Geoffrey here is going to implant you with it.”
Drake stared at the small injector gun and its tiny dart. He shook his head. Alicia and Mai protested more vociferously and even Dahl looked uncomfortable.
“I didn’t make the rules,” the man said. “I just enforce them.”
Alicia stalked around the desk. “Let me be clear, fuckhead. No prick’s going inside me that I don’t want there.”
“No prick,” the man said. “Just a jet of air.”
“Not interested,” Alicia said.
“All right.” The man pushed across a tangle of straps and metal boxes. “Tie them tightly to yourselves. The signal will transmit through Bluetooth. If they come off it thinks you’re dead, which means in relation to the tournament that you are dead. And you will be killed by any man — on sight. We can tell the difference between real death and the removal of the monitoring system.”
“Much better,” Alicia muttered.
“Guns?” The man sighed. “Let’s see them.”
Drake gave him an innocent look. “This is the UK. Guns are illegal.”
Wands were passed over their bodies. When nothing bleeped or shrieked the man eyed them with a kind of amazed confusion. “You haven’t brought any weapons?”
“Why?” Dahl rumbled. “You know who we are. Do you really think we need them?”
The man blinked hard. “Okay then. Onward. We’re almost done here. For information we have a real army of men surrounding this town, folks. I can’t warn you enough about trying to escape or get a message out. A late entrant, guy called Crouch who you know, might be a little late to the party. But he’s a lucrative takedown. Almost—” the man eyed Drake. “As lucrative as you. Be warned. Beauregard Alain will care only about the big money.” He indicated the final piece of equipment on the table, a chunky black box with a large screen. “Nope, it’s not an ancient iPad, it’s a location device.”
“Shouldn’t you be keeping that?” Alicia said in a droll tone.
“Not this one, love. It’s a—” he made a face, “cheap bit of crap to be honest. It shows the locations of you and your erstwhile competitors. Only thing, our resident genius tech engineer,” he nodded to a closed door, “has installed a very clever modification to the program. It refreshes not in real time but once every twelve minutes. You understand?”
Drake nodded. “Keeps it interesting.”
“Doesn’t it?” The man grinned. “Oh, and two final things.”
“Is it the location of the food tent?” Alicia asked quickly. “I’m bloody starving here.”
“The Coyote will enter the competition when ten hours have elapsed. She is the most lucrative target of all. Her choice. And an extra little challenge when she joins — she will reveal the locations of four special nano-vests attached to four citizens around the town. The vests will be wired to explode within a short time limit. The rest is up to you.”
Drake regarded the man with hatred. “When this is done we will come for you.”
“Well, at least somebody cares about the citizens,” the man said. “All the other competitors just laughed.”
“When do we start?”
“It’s almost eight.” The man referred to his watch. “Best get going.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Back outside, they were led beyond the dim cabin lights to another gate and showed through. Beyond that, dark fields led all the way to the outskirts of the carnival.
“Go through the carnival,” a faceless soldier said, “and back into Sunnyvale. It’s already eight o’clock. The game of assassins has already begun.”
Alicia scouted the route ahead, taking off fast and staying low. It didn’t take long to reach the carnival grounds and soon the four new contestants were walking along the wandering, muddy byways. Bright artificial light glared down at them from tall floodlights, and vivid neon splashes danced across their vision. Children ran without seeing, their small fists clutching bags of pink cotton candy and toffee apples. Queues formed around a huge bouncy slide and at a homemade curry stand.
Alicia eyed the slide. “Y’know, do we have time? I fancy a go on that.”
Drake laughed and marveled silently about his oldest living friend’s constitution. Inside, Alicia was a crumbling wreck. Outside, you would never know she’d seen a bad day in her life.
Dahl gave her an odd look. “I can never truly tell when you are serious.”
Alicia was already on her way. Drake saw her eyeing the queue, the people in it, and the men and women that hung around its fringes, and knew there was more to her request than she was letting on. He threw an arm around her shoulders.
“What do you see?”
“I hate these fucking perverts.” Alicia motioned toward more than one individual. “They stand around and they watch. It’s their eyes that give them away. Too hungry. Too calculating. Always observing instead of being lost in the moment with your child. If I had kids… God, I could never let them out of my sight.”
Drake hadn’t heard this from her before. “Oh. Were you and Lomas…?”
“Don’t be a dick. No. I’ve always looked out for these perverts. Everywhere I go. Even been known to quietly neuter a few in my time.” She smiled. “Literally.”
Drake winced involuntarily. “Good job.”
“It’s Santino,” Alicia said. “Right there.”
Drake almost gawped but caught himself at the last moment. Alicia had clocked one of the assassins whilst scanning for pervs. He likened the man to the picture he’d recently studied. Santino was staring at mothers and children coming down the slide and, as Alicia said — his eyes betrayed him.
Dahl said with a touch of irony. “But we haven’t even broken out the tracker yet.”
“Okay,” Drake snarled. “This is gonna be a real pleasure.”
As one, the team melted away to Santino’s blind side. Dahl checked behind the slide and gave Drake a thumbs up from pitch darkness. Mai moved to Santino’s left, Alicia to his right. As a unit they hemmed him in without showing a single sign of hostility.
When they were ready and the slide was at its busiest with mothers, fathers and kids changing around and grabbing happily at each other, Alicia walked in front of Santino and gave him a sideways glace. With his attention grabbed, Mai struck hard and fast, smashing blows into his voice box, eardrum and ribs with three rapid blows. Then both women took the gargling, unsteady man under the arms and dragged him to the side. Drake followed, concealing their actions as best he could.