With no light, and under cover of the storm, he was invisible for a few seconds. He put his head down low and accelerated alongside the fleeing car. The bike had stable and powerful acceleration, and a second later he was almost past the Audi.
Then they saw him, as he knew they would, and immediately swerved their car into his path.
He knew what he had to do, and he knew he had to act fast. As the car’s front wing struck the Commando he leaped into the air and slammed down on the Audi’s hood. The Norton spun off out of control and careered to a stop at the side of the road.
Devlin clung to the air vent ridge at the top of the hood. The Audi began to swerve in an attempt to fling him off and share the same fate as the Norton Commando, but he held on for his life — a task made easier by the strength in his fingers he had built up over so many years of free-climbing.
He knew what had to happen next — and it did. A few seconds after he landed on the car the side window came down and Lefevre climbed halfway out with his USP, grinning at him.
He gave the Irishman a c’est la vie shrug and aimed the pistol at his face.
Devlin had anticipated the move, and using the forward momentum of the speeding car to keep him in place, he snatched the shotgun from his shoulder and fired twice at Lefevre.
The shot shredded through the Belgian’s chest and throat. The top of his dead body now slumped out of the car, his hands scraping along the road.
Devlin watched Devos through the windshield as he saw what had happened, his panicky face lit a ghostly blue by the A7’s dash. In desperation to get rid of the Irish devil now clinging to his car, he swerved more violently than ever.
As the car skidded over to the left, Lefevre’s body was rammed into a hedge and got snagged in the twisted branches, pulling him from the car. The corpse landed with a wet smack on the asphalt as the others raced forward.
Devlin had no time left. He knew Devos had only one play left and was about to do it. If he hit the brakes he would go flying like an Iceland Gull and hit the road at speed where he would stay for a few seconds with every bone in his body broken before Devos ran him down with the Audi.
Devlin raised the shotgun and fired it at the glass, shattering it totally. He then fired a second shot through the smashed glass at Devos, filling his chest full of lead and killing the man instantly. The Belgian killer convulsed for a few seconds and the car began to swerve uncontrollably.
Devlin crawled on to the roof and slipped down inside the vehicle through Lefevre’s open window. He immediately grabbed the wheel and kept the speeding Audi on the road while at the same time forcing his right leg down in between Devos’s legs and hitting the brakes.
The Audi came to a juddering halt in the middle of the lane.
The race was over.
Devlin breathed a sigh of relief and closed his eyes for a second. So this is what happens if you take a phone call from Lea Donovan, he thought.
Talking of whom, he looked around the car for her but saw nothing.
Then he heard a deep thumping from the trunk.
He flicked the release catch and it sprung gently open as he ran around to the rear and cut the cable-ties from her wrists and ankles. Finally he pulled the duct tape and oily rag from her mouth.
Lea looked at him and frowned. “Well, you took your fucking time, Danny Devlin — don’t tell me… we drove past a pub on the way and you nipped in for a swift half of the bloody black stuff!”
“You wouldn’t begrudge me that though — not a pint o’ plain, would ya?”
She rolled her eyes, pulled herself out of the boot and dusted herself down before giving the man a hug. “Thanks Danny, I owe you more than a pint of plain.”
“Don’t mention it.”
Lea leaned against the car and put her hands on her head in shock as she watched her childhood holiday home burning in the low light of the Irish summer morning. Around her, life continued as normal — a marsh harrier’s piercing shriek filled the air and she looked up to see it banking hard to the right and flying over the ocean, and the eternal sound of the Atlantic as it folded over in waves of surf all along the coast.
Her stretch of coast, where she had played as a child…
And now part of that childhood was ablaze and burning to cinders and ash right before her eyes. She wiped away a tear and opened the Audi’s rear door. She took back the box-file of research papers that Lefevre had taken from her and they began to walk slowly back along the road to the Norton Commando.
She picked it up with tremendous effort and sat on it.
“What’s going on here then?” Devlin said.
Lea gave him an innocent look. “What?”
“I’m driving the bike, not you!”
“Like hell you are Danny Devlin. This is my Dad’s bike and I’m getting it somewhere safe. You can come if you want, ya silly horse.”
Devlin pulled up the collars of his jacket and shivered. He looked out at sea for a long time and said nothing.
“You look very serious, Danny. You’re not going to start quoting Yeats or anything, are ya?”
“Me? Nah. I was just thinking — is it too early to get properly langered, young Lea?”
She looked at him expressionless for a few seconds and then smiled. “Get on the bike, Danny… pub’s this way.”
Devlin rubbed his hands together and climbed aboard, putting his arms around her waist to hang on as she turned the key in the ignition. “You know I could quote Yeats If you’d like me to.”
“Yeah… not so much,” she said. “And put this in your jacket.” She handed him the precious box-file. “I don’t know what it means, but I know it’s coming with me.”
“Sure thing.”
Devlin took the file and slid it inside his jacket before zipping it up.
Lea turned the accelerator and the old engine revved to life. She smiled when she heard it — the sound reminded her of her father and all the hours he spent working on it in the garage. The old man only ever rode the thing when he was here on the coast, and if she closed her eyes she could still hear him telling her all about how it worked…
“It’s different from today — back in my day the left side of a bike was about the brakes, Lea, look…” he showed her the brake on the left side of the handlebars. “The right side was all about speed and gears…” She watched as he tapped the right handlebar to show her the accelerator and then moved his hand down to the clutch pedal operated by the right foot. She smiled at the memory — memories were the only place her father lived now. At least there she could keep him safe.
“So are we getting a drink or not?” Devlin said. “I haven’t had a night like that since me honeymoon…”
“It’s sunrise, Danny,” she said. “Of course we bloody are!”
She’d ridden the bike enough times, with and without her father’s blessing, to know well enough where the clutch engaged so she let it out with confidence and the bike began to roll forward.
The Norton Commando shot away into the rising sun with a beautiful, old-fashioned roar.
EPILOGUE
The Isle of Elysium nestles in the bright, turquoise waters of the Caribbean Sea, an isolated utopia far from the rest of the world. It offers the perfect balance of white sandy beaches, dramatic waterfalls and gentle rolling hills of untouched rainforest. Previously owned by the French Government and used as a tropical naval training facility, the island was bought by a consortium led by Sir Richard Eden. Not long after that it all but dropped off the map.