The Persona Protocol

  ‘They don’t have a live tracker feed,’ Tony reminded him.

  ‘It’s still not good enough.’ He glanced down the map. Unlike the police, the three STS vehicles did have real-time tracking of Adam’s position – and were closing on him remorselessly.

  ‘Take the next left,’ Baxter ordered from the passenger seat of the lead SUV. A map on his open laptop showed him exactly what those in the Bullpen were seeing. ‘He’s six blocks from us, going north. We should be able to intercept—’

  He broke off as his phone rang. He had assigned a specific tone to this particular caller, and knew that no delay in answering would be tolerated. ‘Baxter.’

  ‘Situation?’ Harper demanded.

  ‘We’re closing on him, sir,’ he replied.

  ‘You know that you’re authorised to use deadly force?’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  When Harper spoke again, his voice was unnaturally clipped and precise. ‘Let me restate that, in the strongest possible terms. You are authorised to use deadly force to stop Gray. He cannot be allowed to learn what is on that disk. You know why. Confirm that you understand.’

  Baxter responded without hesitation. ‘Yes, sir. I confirm.’

  ‘Good. Clear this up quickly, Baxter.’ The line went silent.

  Baxter lowered the phone and turned in his seat to address Fallon and Spence behind. ‘I’ve just received new orders. Gray is now considered an imminent threat to the security of the United States. We do whatever’s necessary to take him down.’

  Neither man could quite suppress a brief expression of satisfaction. ‘Understood, sir,’ said Spence, readying his gun.

  Morgan’s frustration grew as he watched the chase play out on the screens. Every time the police started to close in, the Hyundai turned to evade them, widening the gap.

  Kiddrick was even more agitated than the STS director. ‘This is ridiculous! How does he keep avoiding them? It’s like he’s psychic!’

  ‘It’s just luck,’ said Tony firmly. ‘There’s no way he can know where the Metro PD cars are.’

  ‘What if he’s got access to our system? Baxter and his team are using laptops to track what’s going on – maybe he’s got one too.’

  ‘If he were logged in, we’d know,’ said Morgan, shaking his head. But an idea had been planted. He frowned, turning his gaze back to the map. One of the police vehicles turned on to an east–west street . . . and just a few seconds later, the Hyundai changed direction as if in response, moving on to a new course to take it further away. ‘Kyle, how long before the drone will be able to spot him?’

  ‘Couple of minutes,’ Kyle reported.

  ‘That’s too long,’ complained Kiddrick.

  ‘It’s going as fast as it can, brah. It’s not a jet.’

  Morgan waved a hand impatiently to silence them. ‘Tell the cops going west along R Street to make the next turn south.’

  The instruction was passed on. After a short delay, the vehicle’s icon altered course . . . and soon after that, the Hyundai turned away once again. ‘He knows,’ he muttered. ‘He knows what route to take to avoid the other cars.’

  Tony tried to hide his concern. ‘Martin, that’s not possible. Like you said, if he had access to our system, we’d know.’

  ‘He wouldn’t need direct access if someone was helping him.’ Morgan slowly turned, his eyes locking on to one particular workstation. ‘Miss Voss.’

  Holly Jo looked up in alarm, hurriedly jerking her finger away from the beeper. ‘Uh, sir?’

  ‘Why are you using the emergency signal?’

  ‘I’m, ah . . . trying to distract him?’ she said, flustered. ‘I thought that if he had a constant beeping in his ear that he couldn’t shut off, it might drive him nuts enough to make a mistake.’

  Morgan was unimpressed. ‘You’re relieved, Miss Voss. I want you to— Miss Voss!’ he barked as Holly Jo tapped a frantic tattoo on the button. ‘Security! Get her out of here!’

  A pair of security protective officers had taken up station by one of the Bullpen’s entrances when the building was placed on alert; they hurried across the room and pulled Holly Jo from her seat. She gave Tony a despairing look as she was hustled away.

  ‘Take her to holding,’ Morgan snapped. ‘Someone take over her station. Maybe now we’ll have a chance of catching them!’

  Behind him, both Levon and Kyle swapped nervous glances with Tony.

  ‘I think we just lost our guide,’ Adam told Bianca. ‘Holly Jo sent me an SOS.’

  ‘So now what do we do?’ she replied, worried.

  ‘STS will be able to direct the cops right to us. We need to disable the tracker.’

  ‘By “we”, you mean me, yes?’

  ‘Afraid so. Hold on.’ He threw the battered Hyundai into a sharp left turn.

  Bianca clung to the cases as she was thrown sideways. ‘Where are we going?’

  ‘I think there’s a building with an underground parking garage a few blocks from here, near a subway station. It should be—’

  He saw rapidly pulsing blue lights reflecting off the flank of a car ahead – a moment before a black Chevrolet Suburban SUV roared out of an intersecting street and powered towards the Elantra.

  Baxter leaned out of the passenger-side window, aiming an MP5 sub-machine gun—

  ‘Down!’ Adam shouted. He hunched lower in his seat, reaching across to shove Bianca’s head down as Baxter opened fire. Bullets clanked against the Hyundai’s nose, shattering a headlight. More chewed into the hood before the stream of automatic fire punched holes through the windscreen. One round smacked into the headrest mere inches above Adam’s skull.

  His view was obscured by spiderweb cracks in the glass, but he could still see enough to make out the Suburban still charging towards him. He swerved sharply to avoid it, riding the car up hard on to the sidewalk.

  Plastic recycling bins lined up outside a brownstone apartment building scattered like tenpins as the Hyundai ploughed into them. The SUV whipped past, tyres shrieking as its driver hurled it into a skidding U-turn.

  Baxter’s vehicle was not alone. Another two Suburbans charged around the corner, strobes flaring. One tried to block the Hyundai’s path – but the hulking vehicle couldn’t turn fast enough. The Elantra shot past and swung back on to the tarmac as the SUV spun out.

  Baxter fired again, more bullets searing down the street—

  They hit the Hyundai’s tail as Adam flung the car around the corner, cutting off his line of fire. It would take the Suburbans several seconds to come about and rejoin the pursuit – but the government-issue SUVs were equipped with upgraded suspensions and more powerful engines than the standard civilian models. The station wagon stood no chance of outrunning them. And unlike the police, the STS pursuit team had direct access to his tracker, pinpointing his position.

  No escape. And Baxter had fired not at the car, but its occupants. He had been given clear instructions.

  Kill the fugitives.

  42

  Field Surgery

  A section of the video wall had been switched to the live feed from the UAV’s camera. The drone was still several blocks from its target, the view partially obscured by buildings – but enough of the street was visible to show flashes of fire coming from one of the Suburbans. ‘Whoa!’ exclaimed Kyle. ‘Are Baxter’s guys shooting at them?’

  Tony rounded on Morgan. ‘Martin, what’s John doing?’ he demanded. ‘If he kills Adam and Bianca, we’ll never find out what the hell all this is about!’

  Morgan hesitated uncomfortably before replying. ‘Orders from Harper. Use whatever force is necessary to take Adam down.’

  ‘Take him down – or take him out?’ Tony turned to Kiddrick. ‘What’s on that disk that’s worth killing him for?’

  ‘The contents of the disk are classified,’ Kiddrick said stiffly.

  ‘Even from Adam? How the hell can somebody’s own memories be kept a secret from them?’

  ‘We have our orders,’ said M
organ, face grim. ‘If Adam had surrendered immediately, it wouldn’t be necessary.’ He sounded as if he were trying to convince himself as much as anyone else.

  Tony made a disgusted sound and looked back at the screens. All three Suburbans had rejoined the pursuit, panthers bearing down upon their smaller and weaker prey.

  Bianca risked lifting her head enough to peer into the wing mirror. ‘Oh God! They’re catching up!’

  ‘Stay down,’ Adam warned her. But he couldn’t follow his own advice, needing to see the street ahead through the damaged windshield.

  And that was not the only part of the Elantra that had suffered injury. He heard a piercing hiss from the engine compartment – steam escaping from the bullet-punctured radiator. The Hyundai was dying.

  But he couldn’t stop. That would spell death for more than just the car.

  Sirens ahead – several of them. Getting closer.

  He looked in the mirror. The Suburbans were about two hundred yards behind, but quickly gaining. Without Holly Jo’s guidance he no longer knew which way to turn to evade the approaching cops – although if they beat him to the next intersection it wouldn’t make any difference.

  He willed the car to go faster, but the stench of boiling coolant and oil told him that the hope was futile. The speedometer needle, which had been pinned at seventy, started to fall.

  Wisps of steam blew back along the hood. The engine was overheating, strained beyond its limits.

  Sixty-five. Sixty. The chase was almost over . . .

  The Elantra shot through the intersection just ahead of three charging police vehicles off to the right.

  Adam checked the mirror. The lead cruiser appeared—

  But it didn’t follow him. Instead it screeched to a stop, the two other cars following suit to form a ragged barricade across the junction. Cops jumped out, raising weapons – but not at the Hyundai.

  They were aiming at Baxter’s team.

  ‘What the fuck?’ yelled Baxter as the MPD vehicles blocked his path. Cops took up position behind them, aiming pistols and shotguns over the hoods and trunks. ‘What are these assholes doing?’

  ‘Stop your vehicles!’ boomed an amplified voice. ‘Stop or we open fire!’

  The driver looked at Baxter in alarm. ‘What do I do?’

  There was not enough room to get past without ramming the cars aside – injuring or killing the cops behind them. ‘Stop,’ Baxter reluctantly ordered, the cold thrill of the pursuit replaced by anger. The driver braked hard, the Suburban halting ten yards short of the roadblock. The other two SUVs pulled up behind it. ‘I’m gonna rip someone a new one for this . . .’

  Morgan blinked in surprise as he watched the aerial view of unfolding events. The cops advanced on the stationary Suburbans, weapons drawn. ‘What the— What are they doing? Why are they stopping Baxter’s team? Get me the Metro commander, now!’ he barked at Holly Jo’s replacement. ‘And keep track of Adam!’

  Kyle zoomed out, catching the Hyundai just before it made a turn and was lost to view behind buildings. ‘Get him back in sight!’ Kiddrick demanded.

  ‘Let me just switch to X-ray mode,’ Kyle said sarcastically. ‘Patience, brah. Another thirty seconds and the drone’ll catch up.’

  Morgan was connected to the police commander. ‘What the hell’s going on? Your guys just stopped my pursuit team!’

  ‘The hell are you talkin’ about?’ was the truculent response. ‘We’re doin’ what you told us to do!’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I got your APB right here! “Highest national security priority, stop and detain armed and dangerous suspects in three stolen black US government Suburbans.” That’s what you asked for, and that’s what we’re doin’, right now!’

  ‘That’s not what we told you!’ Morgan said, bewildered. On the screen, the cops were making the SUVs’ occupants get out at gunpoint. ‘Our suspects are in a Hyundai station wagon – you’re arresting the agents who were chasing them!’

  ‘Look, I’m just goin’ by what you gave us,’ the commander complained. ‘First you told us it was the Hyundai, then you sent an update about the Suburbans.’

  ‘We didn’t send—’ Morgan broke off, casting an accusing glare over the Bullpen’s occupants. ‘All right. I guess Holly Jo isn’t the only person trying to help Adam. So who else has a good reason to feel loyal to him?’ His gaze fell upon Kyle. ‘Someone he saved from being shot down by a Russian jet, maybe?’

  ‘I’m just flying the UAV!’ the young man protested. ‘I don’t even have access to that kind of stuff.’

  Kiddrick moved to Morgan’s side, sour-faced. ‘But I can think of someone who does.’

  ‘So can I,’ said Morgan. ‘Levon? Did you change the APB?’

  Levon looked up at him with a guilty expression. ‘If I say yes, do I get some leniency?’

  Exasperated, Morgan waved to another pair of guards. ‘Put him in with Voss.’ Levon held up his hands in surrender and stood as they approached.

  ‘We’re gonna need more security guys in here,’ said Kyle as the two men took Levon away.

  ‘We’d better not,’ Morgan rumbled. He turned back to the screens. ‘Where’s Adam now?’

  ‘I’m on him,’ Kyle assured him. ‘Okay, got a fix with the auto-tracking.’ A blue outline was overlaid on one particular vehicle as it reached an intersection. ‘He’s going west – no, wait, he’s turning again.’

  The Hyundai pulled on to an access road running behind a large office building of dull red brick. It headed down a ramp beneath the structure. ‘We’ve got him,’ said Kiddrick. ‘If he tries to hide, the police can just sweep the place floor by floor until they find him.’

  ‘That’s not why he’s gone in there,’ said Tony. As if in response, the green square began to jitter, before vanishing entirely. ‘He’s blocking the tracker!’

  ‘Will this work?’ asked Bianca as Adam brought the car into the underground garage.

  ‘Hopefully. They’ll know we’re in here, but they won’t be able to pinpoint exactly where,’ he replied.

  ‘Our car’s fairly easy to spot, though.’ With its mangled back end and bullet-pocked nose and windscreen, the Elantra was no longer anonymous.

  ‘That’s why we’re not staying with it.’

  ‘Oh, so we’re going to steal some other poor sod’s car?’

  ‘I’ll pick something that looks like the owner can afford theft insurance.’ He drove along the garage until he spotted a space and slewed the steaming vehicle into it. ‘Follow me.’

  ‘Like I have much of a choice,’ she said as she got out, fumbling with her baggage.

  Adam pulled the other case from the back seat, then hurried along the row of cars until he reached the end wall. ‘This’ll have to do,’ he said, crouching behind the last parked vehicle. ‘Give me the bag.’

  Bianca handed it to him, looking fearfully back towards the ramp. ‘How long do you think we’ll have before they get here?’

  ‘Not long. You’ll have to work fast.’ He opened the holdall, extracting an emergency surgical kit he had taken from STS. ‘Okay, here’s what I need you to do,’ he said, handing it to her and then untucking his clothing to expose his lower back. ‘Just above the base of my spine there’s a thing like a large coin under my skin. That’s the kinetic power pack. You’ll have to find it by feel.’

  ‘So – so you actually want me to do this?’ she said. ‘You want me to cut you open?’

  ‘It’s the only way. Find the power pack.’

  Bianca hesitantly touched him, fingertips moving down his backbone. She felt something under the skin, hard and unnatural, a circular object about four centimetres in diameter. ‘Okay, got it. What now?’

  ‘You’re going to cut through the skin just above it. Use a sterile wipe to clean it.’ She found one in the surgical kit and did so. ‘Now take the scalpel and make a horizontal incision across the top.’

  There was a scalpel inside a plastic tube. She took the instrume
nt out. Even in the gloomy half-light of the parking garage, the razor edge of the stainless-steel blade still glinted. ‘Oh God, I can’t stop my hands from shaking,’ she warned him.

  ‘You’ll be okay,’ Adam replied. He knelt down, leaning forward. ‘Find the pack again – use your left hand.’

  She tried to control her breathing as she relocated the disc beneath his skin. ‘Okay.’

  ‘Now, put the tip of the scalpel just above it, about half an inch to the left of its top.’

  Bianca brought the blade into position, but hesitated before the metal touched him, her hand trembling more than ever. ‘Adam, I’m scared. If I do something wrong . . .’

  ‘You won’t. I know you can do it. I trust you, Doctor Childs.’

  That didn’t stop her from shaking, but at least it gave her the courage to press the scalpel’s tip against his flesh. ‘What about anaesthetic?’

  ‘There isn’t time.’ He tensed, taking a deep breath. ‘Make the incision.’

  Another hesitation – then, wincing, she pressed the blade down.

  Adam flinched at the pain, drawing in air sharply through his nostrils. Blood swelled from the cut, rising like a tar bubble before trickling down his back in a crimson stream.

  Bianca gasped. It was not so much the sight itself that caused her alarm, rather that she was responsible for it. ‘Oh God. The blood’s coming out really fast!’

  ‘You’ll have to be fast too,’ said Adam through gritted teeth. ‘Make the cut – left to right, about an inch.’

  She tried to slide the scalpel sideways, but the blade refused to move. ‘I can’t, it’s stuck!’

  ‘You have to – push harder. Like cutting a steak.’

  ‘Is this a bad time to tell you I’m a vegetarian?’ But she applied more pressure – and the scalpel shifted, slicing through the skin and the thin layer of fat beneath. A sudden gush of blood made her jerk in shock. ‘It’s bleeding, a lot!’

  ‘Keep cutting,’ Adam told her, voice strained. ‘You’re almost done.’

  Wincing, Bianca edged the scalpel across until the incision was the size he had demanded. ‘Okay, okay! Now what do I do?’