Fight Fire With Fire. Amy J. Fetzer
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“Base to Raven.”
Okay, Raven was a new one. Ellie came up with the names and changed them often. Safia could always tell when she was upset. The names got a little raunchy. She could care less, though she thought “maggot breath” for their last subject was inventive.
“Gotcha.”
“He’s on the phone again and changing directions.”
She glanced at the GPS tracker on the dash screen and slowed to take a residential street. “Can you intercept the call, let me hear?”
“That wouldn’t be authorized.”
“Screw waiting for Langley. They’re not here right now.”
A sigh came through the microphone. Safia even heard the rustle of papers while Ellie wrestled with her conscience. Langley would approve or she’d threaten something. It’d worked before and Safia wasn’t above sticking some pins in people to get what she needed. If they wanted her to fight the good fights, she had to have access to intelligence and quickly.
“ I’m on him.” A pause and then, “ Damn, he’s got a scrambler.”
“Ohh, he’s a nasty boy.” Scramblers weren’t easy to come by, no matter who you bribed. But one the CIA couldn’t extract?
“Let’s hope it’s a phone sex line.”
Safia smiled to herself.
“The longer he chats, the more time to track ,” Ellie said. “ Why aren’t you moving?”
“I want to wait to see what direction he takes and alter my route.” She couldn’t risk exposing her cover by tailing too close.
“I’d reconsider that. He’s either going to have a suit made or he’s headed to the heliport.”
Safia keyed in a search for the nearest helipad from her position. Just about every high rise had one, four were on the same street. But Ellie was right, he was in the garment district. She started to ask for satellite imaging when Ellie said, “He’s speeding. Okay he’s turning. You need to move.”
“I’ll get there. You keep tabs because if he takes off for the far reaches, I’m sunk.”
She couldn’t outrun a chopper. Leaning over the handlebars, she turned back onto the Central Expressway and toward the garment district. She rode a wide berth. No telling which direction he’d fly, but she stayed in the open for the best opportunities to get close, fast. Impatient for him to move and give her something to chase, she hailed Ellie.
“SAT has him on the roof. Must have taken the express lift.”
That always punched her stomach to her knees. Safia slowed, pulling off the road to a petrol station. She refilled the tank, then stretched, her gaze on the small screen showing the chopper lift off a mile away.
“The north channel, ” Ellie said, then sounded confused. “Where’s he going? There’s no place to land beyond Seletar airport.”
“What have I told you about bad guys?”
“They ignore all the laws, all the time.”
She said it like a kid reciting dry poetry. “Think twisted and depraved.”
“That’s easy for you.”
Safia laughed as she merged onto the highway. This wouldn’t be so hard. The chopper was air traffic and well, less up there to trace. She angled around cars, squeezed the motorcycle places she shouldn’t, then saw the black chopper. It was still gaining altitude. Who’s got you jumping through hoops again, nasty boy?
“They’re doing a pattern sweep. Looking for something,” Base said. “Their central area is Sungei Kadut.”
“Inland?”
“Negative, the water side.”
It would be, she thought, and shot off the Seletar Expressway to Sungei Kadut, beneath several confusing overpasses, then past the new high rises. The chopper hovered over land, then paralleled the river. Drug trafficking, she wondered, aware the local police had problems with small time players using the river, yet when the chopper banked hard toward the Johor Bahru bridge, she shot north to get ahead of it. Six blocks and she lost it as the land dipped. It forced her to higher ground on the east side. Singapore, she thought, was sinking under its own weight. She was never going to identify Barasa’s target if she didn’t locate the man.
Safia stopped the bike near the bridge walking path. Pedestrians ignored her, marching across. She unlatched the bike’s pack and grabbed her monocular. She sighted on the cars and trucks filing toward Malaysia, then saw a Land Rover ATV, stripped down and crowding a truck. Light bounced off weapons. Damn.
“Be my eyes, Base, get that dark green truck.”
Her gaze darted from the chopper to the truck to the Land Rover. The chopper hovered over the west bridge traffic, scaring drivers. Most drove faster to get away from the chaos, and when the Rover shot ahead, Safia understood the tactic. Use the bridge to box them in and shoot. She parked the bike and ran to the ladder of bars maintenance workers used for repairs and climbed. She reached the top as the Rover spun sideways and stopped traffic. Cars skidded, veering to the sides, several impacted, but Barasa’s desperation was clear. He wanted what was in that truck.
And Safia couldn’t let him have it.
Sungei Kadut
Singapore
Riley and Max leaned over the backseat, gathering ammo. Vaghn slumped sideways, still out. The ATV chased parallel, joining them on the expressway to the bridge.
“Get off this road!”
“I can’t. Traffic’s too heavy!” Sebastian pointed and like a swarm, little cars darted around them, blocking exits.
The bridge was wide, a walkway on either side, lanes feeding traffic to Johbar, Malaysia and Singapore, but it was nearly rush hour. The cars weren’t the worst. Rickshaws and overloaded cyclists clogged the highway, some stacked with so many goods it’s a wonder they didn’t topple over. Hoping for a turn signal was useless. The ATV sped up alongside and Riley aimed out the window as Max flattened over Vaghn to join him. The ATV pulled away, speeding ahead, then clipping a car. The sloped, white two-door spun, smashing into another lane and the pile-up began.
Sebastian swerved left, finding a hole.
A helicopter rose from sea level, hovering over the water on the left.
“Jaasus. Look at the size of that thing!” It was rigged for rescue.
Max shook the prisoner awake. “Who’s after you?”
Vaghn blinked, looked around at the smoking cars and smiled. “I told you not to fuck with me.”
Riley shoved Vaghn’s head down and removed the handcuffs, securing his hands in front. Vaghn frowned and Riley said, “I want you alive.” To stand trial for treason .
Vaghn smirked. “You don’t have orders to shoot me, do yah?”
“That’s never stopped me before.” Riley cinched the cuffs tight. “And laddie, I’m volunteering for your firing squad.”
Vaghn paled and Riley pushed him to the floor. The chopper rose and backed away, then its side door slid back. Men in Singapore rescue uniforms confused him. A chopper wasn’t necessary and where the hell were the police?
“Sebastian, get us off this bridge. And where the hell is the ATV?”
“In front. He wants to play chicken.”
The ATV was crowding again and Riley searched for a way off the bridge, then spotted a dark figure crouched on the walkway, hidden behind the slatted rails. He recognized the long slim barrel a second too late and saw a muzzle flash an instant before the right front tire exploded.