His thoughts were only for Lauren. “I just hope the antidote wasn’t in that car,” he said as the first licks of flame surrounded it.
Lauren Fox reached out a shaking hand to comfort him. “Don’t… worry. Don’t. Thank you for trying.” A breath rattled through her frame. It sounded like her last.
Smyth had to turn away. As he did he felt the covered syringe move in one of his pockets. The drug that would slow her metabolic rate! Heart surging with hope he withdrew the hard plastic tube and prepped the liquid.
Please. Please work.
Quickly, he uncovered Lauren’s arm and injected the fluid. Now they were working on hope and luck and good will. He smiled as her eyes fluttered open.
Collins nodded, grim-faced, at the lead Jag.
“Now we end this. And them.”
Hayden ordered Kinimaka to plant his foot through the floor. Their Alfa spurted forward just as the Lexus sped up. If these Jaguars had initially been heading for the Pythian HQ, delivering an antidote that the second facility had just formulated, then they were now fleeing for their freedom, their lives. It wouldn’t have surprised Hayden to find that the Pythians had ordered the second driver to smash into the gas station. Hopefully, the lead driver wouldn’t do anything quite so foolish.
As their cars swept up to the side of the last remaining Jaguar, the men inside started shooting. The Lexus took a peppering to the front fender, the Alfa a stippling around the front wheel arch. Still, nobody backed down. Engines roared in protest, shuddering the very air they dispersed. Ahead now, the two-lane carriageway was about to run out, the road curving into a built-up area. Hayden realized they had seconds to act.
“Again!”
She flung her door wide, but it was already too late. The Jag roared ahead as its driver decided to utilize its own firepower rather than its occupants’. At the last moment Komodo, driving the Lexus, tried to swing over into its slipstream but turned an instant too soon.
The Lexus impacted against the rear of the Jag hard enough to make the driver lose control. The results were terrifying, sending the huge black car into an eighty-miles-per-hour spin and its occupants into a fortunate oblivion. At first the Jaguar swerved within the limits of the road but then it hit the high curb and flipped, spinning slowly lengthways as all its wheels left the ground. Rolling helplessly, it smashed into a wide glass restaurant frontage, destroying the window, its frames and the brick wall above it. Wreckage exploded inside and outside the restaurant. Tables scattered.
Hayden leaped out the moment Kinimaka squealed to a halt but she was a step behind Smyth. Like a bulldozer the soldier smashed aside hanging clumps of brick and mortar and reinforcement bars. Like a maniac he tore open the front driver’s door and took hold of the merc positioned there.
Smyth shook him wildly. “Antidote!”
Then, beyond him, clasped in the trembling hands of the passenger, Smyth saw a clear transparent cylinder, about the size of a tin can, jammed full with small phials.
“Is that it?”
“Save me,” the mercenary whispered. “I don’t want to die like this.”
Smyth reached out and took hold of the cylinder. The moment he did so his heart began to quake, his pulse raced like never before. Are we too late? Is Lauren already too far gone?
Gritting his teeth, he ran like hell.
CHAPTER FORTY THREE
Holding the cylinder as carefully as if it held his own soul, Smyth jumped into the Lexus’ back seat. Within moments he sensed everyone gathering around him. Hayden, at his shoulder, whispered, “This is for all of us.”
He quickly detached the accompanying bags of syringes and upended a phial, drawing clear liquid inside. A squirt to dispel air bubbles and he leaned toward the motionless, white-faced woman that had been robbed of her great vitality, so unbelievably depleted.
“This is from me,” he said and jabbed the needle through her skin.
“How long?” he heard somebody ask. Karin’s voice.
“How is she? Has anything happened?” Collins’ voice.
Smyth discarded the empty syringe, leaning over Lauren’s mouth. He didn’t care that he might contract or have already contracted the disease. A serious, more aloof head might have, but Smyth was incautious and fiery and, above all, a soldier. He would see this through to the bitter end, for good or bad, and he would not leave any person down.
No breath came from Lauren’s mouth, no life crossed her lips.
Drake’s voice came through the comms. “We’re following a chopper to what we believe is the Pythian HQ. They seem to be panicking and on the run. Or it could be some other kind of misdirection. Anyhow, we have both aerosols and the last sample now. How’s Lauren? Did you get the antidote?”
Smyth hung his head, unable to speak.
Hayden’s voice was less than whisper. “We’re waiting.”
Kinimaka added, “Smyth administered it. But it may be too…”
Smyth placed a hand on Lauren’s cheek, as gentle as a feather landing. “Please,” he whispered. “Don’t die on us.”
Hayden took a deep, juddering breath. Though intense noise and activity surrounded them not an iota penetrated their team’s cocoon. It was only when Lauren’s face twitched under Smyth’s touch that anyone thought to take a breath.
“Lauren?”
Her eyes fluttered, her body gasped air. Her whole frame shuddered. Far too weak to move she nonetheless forced breath through her lungs and opened her eyes.
Smyth leaned in so close he couldn’t focus. Relief flooded him, a liberating fountain. For the first time he could remember, he didn’t feel anger in his heart.
The others crowded around, congratulating and rejoicing.
Smyth stayed put. No way was he going to let them see the tears in his eyes.
Drake joined Alicia, Dahl, Mai and Trent in the race to catch up to Crouch’s choppers. The Augusta had developed a fault after his mistreatment back at the warehouse so they were now crammed into a military Humvee, following Crouch’s directions. The roads of Niagara Falls were filled with the noise of wailing sirens, K-rail barriers and rows of police. Drake already knew the Canadian authorities were cooperating fully with the international effort, and was grateful for it; no way would they want to be the ones that dropped the ball on something of this magnitude.
“There!” Drake pointed at the skies. “Two o’clock!”
Dahl approximated their position on a map. “They’re following the Niagara River. Can you make this thing go any faster?”
“We’re trying, sir. We’re trying.”
The vehicle roared onto the Niagara Parkway and then River Road, racing past a colorful place called Daredevil’s that promised ice cream, pizza, popcorn and fries. Alicia moaned as she went past.
“God, I’m hungry.”
“Here.” Drake broke out a Mars bar. “You remember? The SAS used to swear by them. A sugar rush before battle. Trouble is, nowadays they’re so small you need two.”
Alicia sat back in fond memory. “I do remember, Drakey. I remember much more than you think.”
The Humvee blasted on, following the curve of the river, a low stone wall to their right and thick clumps of trees hiding real estate to their left. River Road was a prime location, its properties large and mostly hidden by the treeline. Crouch’s voice crackled across the comms.
“We’re hanging back now. Yes, I know they’ve already seen us but we’re not going to fly right into a trap. The Pythian chopper is slowing, banking, going down! It appears to be a house right here on River Road. We’re kind of level with Oakes Park, can you see it?”
Dahl drew a line with his finger across from Oakes Park to River Road. “Got it. We’re ten minutes out.”