The Will Of The People

  * * *

  Gun in one hand, shirt in the other, McDowell raced along the corridor and out through the fire exit. A single security light blazed out into the night, its beam carving out an area of brightness some thirty yards deep, and it took McDowell precious seconds to reorient his sleep-dulled brain. Abruptly, away to his right, he heard a shout then the muffled crack of a pistol.

  McDowell ran towards the sound. Up ahead a burly figure knelt on the grass halfway to the fence, gun raised, peering through the gloom towards the sea wall and the dark shadows dancing along its edge.

  “Fisher!” McDowell shouted. “What the fuck’s going on?”

  “Anderson’s buggered off,” Fisher replied angrily. “Bastard’s armed and there’s someone else with him.”

  As a breathless Rebane joined McDowell, the alarm was suddenly silenced. “Morton’s half-dead,” Rebane said without emotion. “It could be the girl with Anderson; she’s proving to be as big a problem as him.”

  “What do you want me to do?” McDowell asked, gaze moving along the top of the sea wall. “The phone signal out there is patchy but they’ll get through eventually. If she uses her usual phone we’ll get her position but it might be better for Carter to bar the phone’s SIM.”

  “Agreed,” said Rebane quickly. “I’ll handle the police; we just need to tidy up a bit and get Morton to a hospital.”

  “And Anderson?” McDowell prompted.

  “Take Fisher and go after them,” Rebane ordered quietly. “Kill them only if you have to. I’ll get us some backup.”