Death Run (9 page)

“So what do we call you?” Jade asked the Banker. “I mean ‘sir' sounds a bit formal given what's going on. And I guess you're not really Mr Argent.”

Rich had returned to the storeroom. He was holding a stapler. “Maybe we need a code name,” he suggested.

“Oh right,” Jade said, unimpressed. “What are you going to do with that?” She pointed to the stapler. “Give them a clip round the ear?”

“Why not call me Dom?” the Banker suggested.

“Is that a code name?” Rich asked. “The initials stand for something, maybe?”

“It's short for Dominic. That's my real name.”

“Oh.”

“Right, well, you and Dom…” Jade hesitated over
the name. It didn't really seem to suit the man and she wondered if it really was his name. Not that it mattered. Not that she cared, not really. “Tell you what, why don't we just call you Mr Argent so we don't get confused? You get on with your distraction tactics and I'll get the phone.”

“I'm not sure why it has to be me that does it,” Mr Argent said nervously.

“Because it's you they're after,” Rich said. “One of us pokes their nose round the door and they don't give a monkey's. Might even shoot us. But they want you, and they want you alive.”

“And because I'll be quicker than you getting the phone,” Jade said. She glanced down at her flat school shoes. At least she didn't wear heels like some of the girls. But she'd rather be in her trainers.

“All right then,” the Banker agreed. “Let's get it over with.”

“That's the spirit.” Rich patted him on the back. “Come on, we'll be fine. Soon be over.” He turned to Jade. “You be OK?”

“Course I will.” She tried to sound confident. But her stomach was churning with anxiety – for herself and for Rich. “Look after yourself.”

“Don't worry about me.”

“Of course I worry about you,” Jade murmured as Rich and the Banker disappeared down the stairs.

The reception foyer was empty. Rich waited for several seconds at the end of the corridor, listening for any sounds that might suggest one of the gunmen was coming. But there was nothing.

“OK,” he said to Mr Argent. “You're on. I'm all set.” He brandished his stapler.

The Banker nodded and swallowed. “Right. Here we go.”

He walked briskly across to the double doors that led into the school hall, and reached out for the handles. He took a deep breath, turned to smile nervously at Rich, then heaved the door open.

Rich held the stapler ready as the Banker stepped into the hall. Over the man's shoulder he could see the gunman turning. The man's face was a mask of surprise.

Then the doors were closing again as the Banker turned and ran. He skidded past Rich and pressed himself hard against the wall of the corridor behind him.

Moments later, the halls doors sprang open again. The gunman stood there, looking round, searching
for any clue as to which way the Banker had gone.

“Bannock!” he yelled. “Here – he's here!”

Rich hurled the stapler. Not at the gunman, but at the glass cabinet full of trophies. It stood close to where another corridor came into the reception foyer. The stapler smashed into the front of the cabinet, shattering the glass with a tremendous noise. A large silver cup fell from its little plinth and bounced to the floor.

The gunman swung round in an arc, bullets spraying. The sides and top of the cabinet disintegrated. The gunman ran, heading for the corridor – away from where Rich and the Banker were hiding. Rich gave the Banker a thumbs-up and they crept slowly away.

Rich kept watching the gunman as they silently retreated. He looked round, torn between following his quarry and staying with his prisoners. “Bannock!” he yelled again.

There was the sound of running feet now. But it was coming from behind them – from further down the corridor where Rich and the Banker were hiding.

“In here!” the Banker whispered. He had a door open and he and Rich pressed inside the small store cupboard.

Rich's feet caught on something on the floor and he almost fell. The Banker grabbed his arm, saving him. “Sorry – should have warned you about that.”

Booted feet tramped past outside. The cupboard was pitch black.

“Why? What is it?” Rich whispered.

“One of the gunmen.”

“What?”

“He had a bit of an argument with your sister.”

Bannock and two other gunmen ran into the main reception foyer. The area was covered in glass and the guard from the hall was standing in the middle of it.

“He was here. The Banker. Went down that corridor.”

“You sure?”

“Absolutely.”

Bannock did not need to give the order. The two gunmen were already running down the corridor in pursuit. “Get back to the hostages,” Bannock said.

The guard returned to the hall and pulled open the doors. He stopped in the doorway, staring in disbelief. “What the hell..?”

“What is it? What's wrong?” Bannock ran to see.

The hall was empty. The children and their teacher – even the unconscious woman who had led Bannock and his men here – had all disappeared.

From the next classroom to Mr Argent's, Jade could see enough of the corridor outside to know when the gunman left. She heard the shouts and the gunfire from below, and hoped that Rich and the Banker were all right.

The gunman stepped into the corridor, looking in the direction of the storeroom – where the sound seemed to have come from. He hesitated a few moments, but then he went back into the classroom.

“Oh, great,” Jade breathed. “A clever, sensible henchman. Just my luck.”

In the darkness beneath the stage, Gemma had her arm round one of the younger girls to comfort her. Miss Whitfield was trying to make the injured woman comfortable. It had been a struggle to get her through the trapdoor, afraid that at any moment the guard might return.

But they had managed. Just. Now they were all huddled together, frightened and desperately trying to keep quiet. The girl Gemma was comforting
suppressed a sob, her whole body shaking with the effort. The unconscious woman stirred and moaned in pain, as Miss Whitfield did her best to soothe her.

The muffled sounds of angry men filtered through from the outside world. The furious Scotsman had found the open fire door in the wings, but another gunman outside the school seemed to be telling him that no one had come out.

They turned their attention to the balcony, but the Scotsman dismissed it at once.

“No way they could get that wounded woman up there in a few seconds.”

“So where did they go?” the guard asked. He sounded even more nervous than Gemma felt.

“I don't know and I don't care.
He
was here. The Banker was here.”

“Yes.”

“Then the time for subtlety is over. I want each and every room cleared. Start again from here. Tell the others. A clean sweep, and this time we'll make sure no one slips through the net.”

“We don't have much time left,” the guard warned. “It can't be long now before someone realises there is a problem.”

“I know,” the Scotsman growled. “That's why we clear each room with stun grenades.”

Another gunman came jogging along the corridor towards where Jade was hiding. She pulled back into the classroom and hoped he hadn't seen her looking out.

He went into Mr Argent's room next door, and Jade could hear him talking to the man in there.

“At last,” she breathed, as both men came out into the corridor and headed towards the storeroom at the far end.

“We'll start at this end,” the newcomer said. “Bannock wants every room cleared. Start with this storeroom, eh?”

Jade crept to the door and looked out to see where they were. Sure enough, the two black-clad men were at the storeroom that led through to the gallery above the hall. They didn't go inside. One of them pulled something from inside his black combat jacket and threw it into the room. Both men immediately moved to the sides of the doorway.

“Oh, God – grenades,” Jade thought. Just a split second before the sound and heat of the explosion almost knocked her off her feet.

She ducked into Mr Argent's room and ran to the
desk. The pile of exercise books he had been marking had toppled over so that the books were strewn across the desk. There was no sign of his phone.

From outside came the
crump
of another explosion. Jade checked under the desk, pulled open the drawers. She looked round hopeless – a low cupboard she knew held textbooks and old exam papers, a tall filing cabinet, tables and chairs. Her own detention work abandoned on one of the tables. No phone.

Another explosion – even closer. Followed by laughter and a burst of gunfire. How many classrooms before they got back to this one? Another three? Or was it two?

With an angry gesture, Jade swept the exercise books off the desk. To reveal the mobile phone lying beneath them. She almost laughed out loud. Scooping up the phone she ran for the door.

A quick glance told her the men were preoccupied with grenade-bombing the next classroom. If she was quick, maybe she could get down the corridor to the main stairs at the far end without them seeing. She ran.

“Oy – you!”

Jade was only halfway there.

“Stop! Stop or I shoot!”

Three-quarters of the way. She hurled herself onwards and sideways as a line of bullets drilled through the wall close to her.

At the top of the stairs she paused only long enough to look at the buttons on the phone before she pressed them – star five five star. She held the phone to her ear and took the steps two at a time. A dial tone – then the bleep of the numbers going through. A ringing at the other end, thank God.

Gunfire from above – dust and fragments kicked up from the steps round Jade as they exploded.

“Answer, won't you?!” she yelled into the phone.

She reached the bottom of the stairs. Just as a dark brown hand grenade bounced down after her.

The black 5-Series BMW took the bends of the winding country road easily and swiftly. Inside, John Chance hummed along to the Bach that blasted from the speakers. The car had a large display screen showing on one side which CD track he was listening to. On the other was a map of the area showing his position. It was angled into a perspective view with little clouds above the skyline, despite the fact it was dark outside. It gave the estimated time to his destination as twenty-one minutes.

On the windscreen, just above where the bonnet ended, a heads-up display told Chance how fast he was going. It refrained from pointing out that the speed wasn't actually legal.

The main display changed and the music cut out to be replaced by the sound of a phone ringing. Chance's mobile was attached to the car's speakers and a microphone by Bluetooth – automatically linking up as soon as he got into the car.

“Answer call” was the highlighted option on the display screen. Chance pressed a button on the steering wheel to take the call. He didn't recognise the incoming number.

At once the car was filled with the sound of gunfire, followed by a colossal explosion. Chance swerved, criss-crossing the road out of instinct to avoid the fire. But then he realised it was coming from the speakers in the car doors –from the other end of the phone.

There was another loud explosion. Then, above it, a voice shouting. A female voice.

A voice that John Chance recognised immediately.

“I don't know who this is or what the hell's going on,” Jade yelled from the car speakers. “But we need help and we need it fast!”

The sound cut out suddenly. The perspective map display gave the car's time to destination as twenty minutes. The heads-up gave the speed as 65mph as the car took another tight bend in the narrow lane.

John Chance's expression was grim and determined as he selected a speed-dial number from the phone list and pressed his foot hard down on the accelerator.

The grenade bounced at Jade's feet. She stared at it for a second, her mind and body frozen. Then, without thinking, she kicked it. It hurt her foot, but the grenade skidded off across the floor and Jade dived into the space behind the staircase, landing heavily. She could hear the booted feet running down. Then the ear-punching
thump
of the explosion on the other side of the stairs.

The phone was still in her hand, but it was dead – the screen cracked and broken where it had hit the floor as she dived for cover. Well, whoever it was had got the message.

Now she had to find Rich and Mr Argent and tell them help was on its way. But where were they?
Jade could head back up the stairs to the Maths rooms, or she could make her way back through the ground floor to the main reception and the school hall. She summoned the courage to head back up the stairs. It was the quickest way back and she was desperate to see that Rich was OK. But no sooner had she stepped out from behind the staircase than she heard the sound of running feet coming back towards her.

“It's all locked up – she can't have gone that way.”

“Must have doubled back,” the other gunman agreed.

Jade pressed back into the space under the stairs.

“Could have gone either way,” the first gunman said. They had stopped almost within sight of Jade. “You try up there again, I'll head this way.”

“And if we find her? It's not some girl we're really after.”

“She shouldn't be running round causing trouble,” the first gunman said. “She was in his room, so she might know something. Shoot her.”

The corridor was empty. There was dust and debris everywhere. Each of the maths rooms they passed was devastated by the grenades hurled in by the gunmen.

“Pointless,” Rich said. “Completely pointless.”

“They're getting frustrated,” the Banker told him.

Only Argent's classroom was still intact.

“They knew you weren't hiding in here because one of them was guarding it all the time.”

“Let's hope they still think I can't be in here.”

“Let's hope Jade gets back here safely.” Rich was disappointed to see she wasn't there already. He had half expected – and hoped – to find her sitting at the table finishing her detention work having sent out their call for help. But the room was empty.

From outside came the faint sound of someone running up the main stairs at the end of the corridor.

“Maybe that's her,” the Banker said.

But Rich wasn't so sure. “That sounds like boots, not Jade.” He looked out from the door. There was no sign of anyone yet, but he was more sure than ever that whoever was coming wasn't Jade. Then he heard a similar sound from the hall end of the corridor – more booted feet.

“They're coming at us from both directions,” he told the Banker urgently. “We need to hide and quick. With luck, they won't search properly in here again.”

The Banker was pale with fear. “Hide? Where?!”

“I don't know.” Rich was looking round desperately. Outside, the two approaching gunmen were greeting each other – shouting down the corridor. The Banker was pressing himself into the narrow space behind the tall upright filing cabinet. He'd be fine so long as no one looked there. Or chucked a grenade into the room.

Rich could see only one possible hiding place, if there was time. But if the gunmen found him, he'd be trapped with absolutely no way of escape.

Whether the man was a real policeman or not didn't matter. Either way, he'd have to move. There was a small group of concerned-looking parents caught in the lights of Chance's car as it sped along the narrow lane. The policeman stood in front of the closed school gates, the dark driveway snaking its way up to the old manor house behind them.

Chance put the lights on full-beam and hammered at the horn.

It was not until the car began to turn that the man in front of the gates actually moved. Then he realised the car was sliding in a handbrake turn, the back wheels biting into the roadway as it struggled to
speed forwards again. The man leaped aside as the wheels spun, caught, propelled the car forwards – straight at the gates.

Chance gripped the wheel tight in both hands and braced himself as the car slammed into the metal gates. There was a tortured shriek of twisting metal as the hinges gave way. One gate slammed open; the other fell away from the gatepost. The car bumped over them, already doing 25mph, and powered up the driveway.

Through the cracked spider's web of the windscreen, Chance could see the school. He could see its dark outline against the night sky. The figures forming a cordon round the outside. Dogs. And the orange-yellow of explosions within the main buildings.

A black-clad man stepped out at the side of the driveway and raised a machine pistol. He was all but invisible, but the infrared image on the car's main display showed him clearly in shades of green. The car swerved towards him as bullets spattered across the windshield, pinging off the bullet-proof glass, leaving snow-star impressions where they hit.

Chance dropped down a gear and the car accelerated into the figure. There was a bump from above as the man was thrown over the car, bouncing
on the roof. Then he was a dark motionless shape in the rear view mirror.

High above, Chance could hear the sound of helicopters. Too early for Ardman to have responded to his call, he decided. No, these were waiting to extract the raiders when their job was done. Or when they decided they'd run out of time – if they'd been tipped off somehow that Ardman was sending in the troops. But there would be time to worry about that later. For now, Chance's entire focus was on Jade and Rich, then – and only then – on the Banker.

The car turned off the driveway and on to the lawn at the front of the school. The roar of the engine mixed with the sound of the incoming helicopters as Chance headed straight for the main reception area.

She was just congratulating herself on having made it back up the narrow flight of steps to the maths corridor, when Jade saw the gunman. He was standing outside Mr Argent's classroom. He turned just as Jade emerged into the corridor. It was the man who had been on guard in the room earlier – and he had seen and recognised her.

Swearing under her breath, Jade turned and ran back
down the stairs. She could hear the thudding of his boots as he came after her, shouting over his shoulder to a second gunman to stay put and search the room.

Bottom of the stairs and Jade was out of breath. Too much running. She had to find somewhere to hide. Out into the corridor, past the English rooms. Maybe she could get to a science lab and find some acid or something? No – too late, she realised. She wouldn't have time.

She dived into the next room and hoped the gunman hadn't seen. But almost at once, the lights snapped on. He was standing in the doorway, looking straight at her. There was the ferocious sound of engines from outside. Through the large window that dominated one side of the room, Jade could see helicopters with searchlights. A car was bumping across the main lawn, headlights flashing across the glass. Choice of that, or the gun now coming up and pointing at her.

Jade grabbed a chair. She held it out in front of her body and braced herself. Then she put her head down and ran straight at the window.

Chance was wondering where to start looking for his children when one of them exploded out of a window
in front of him. The glass shattered and Jade was rolling across the gravel path, a school chair spinning away. A dark figure leaped after her, through the broken window. Gun poised.

The car swerved again as Chance heaved on the wheel. He pressed down hard on the horn and the accelerator. The car skidded off the lawn and crunched on the gravel. Bullets went wide and high, and then the gunman was flying back through the window he'd come out of.

Chance leaned across and pushed the passenger door open. The metal was twisted and it screeched as it opened.

“In – get in!”

Jade clambered inside. “Dad – they're after—”

“I know. I got your call. Put your seatbelt on, this could be bumpy.”

The car reversed rapidly backwards, fishtailing on the slick grass.

“
You
got my call?”

“Ardman's on his way. I hope.”

“Those helicopters aren't his then?”

“Don't think so. They were here too quick.”

“Where are we going?” Jade asked as the car moved
back on to the drive at the front of the school and accelerated.

“To find Rich.”

“Yeah, I guessed that,” Jade said. “Only there's a one way system, you know.”

Chance gritted his teeth. “I'll assume that was a joke. Now, where is he?”

“Not sure,” Jade admitted. “Best bet is to ask at reception.”

Behind them, the first of the helicopters was coming in to land on the lawn. Ahead of them, main reception was getting closer and larger. The car bumped painfully on the steps leading up to the doors. Then it smashed through the front of the building and slewed to a halt on the polished wooden floor.

A man holding a machine pistol was staring in disbelief at the battered black BMW in the foyer. He recovered, raising the gun. But before he could use it, Chance leaned out of the broken side window of the car, whipped out a pistol and shot him.

“Pity about your car,” Jade said as she climbed out and joined her dad by the gunman's body.

The gunman was clutching his leg where the bullet
had hit him and moaning with pain. Chance kicked his gun out of reach and turned away.

“Oh, it's not mine,” he told Jade. “Company car. Anyway, the ashtrays needed emptying.”

Bannock was in radio contact with the choppers, on the only micro-frequency they weren't jamming.

“The Tiger's got word that the security forces are on their way,” he told the gunman standing outside the maths classroom. “The others are on their way up here now. And the choppers are coming in.”

As he spoke, the first helicopter dropped slowly past the window to land on the lawn outside.

“Have we found him?” the gunman asked.

“No,” Bannock snarled. “So we take everything from this room – all his books papers, everything. Even if it looks like schoolwork. And pray we find some clue to where he is or where we can find the account numbers and codes before the Tiger has us all shot.”

Bannock strode across the room. “That cupboard goes, and the books on the tables, and this filing cabinet.” To make the point he dragged the cabinet into the centre of the room.

His grimace of anger turned slowly to a broad grin
as he saw the small frightened man who had been hiding behind it.

Jade led her dad into the school hall. “I want to check that Gemma and Mike and the others are OK,” she said. “There's Eleri too – the Banker's daughter.”

Chance looked round the empty hall. “His daughter?”

“She knows half the codes. Or something.” Jade walked over to the stage and thumped the palm of her hand down on it. “You all right in there?” she called. “Miss Whitfield – everything OK?”

“We're fine,” came a muffled reply.

Then another voice asked nervously, “Can we come out yet?”

“Best not,” Chance called back. “Give us a few minutes, but everything's under control. Have you out of there soon, don't worry.”

“Thank goodness for that,” Miss Whitfield's voice replied. “This young lady has lost a lot of blood. And Lance is rather desperate for the loo.”

“Oh, miss,” a tiny voice squeaked. “You didn't have to tell them that!”

From the foyer outside came the sound of running
feet and a bump like heavy furniture being knocked into a doorframe.

“They evacuating?” Jade asked.

Dad gestured to her to stay quiet. “They've got us outnumbered, we have to be careful.”

“We'll never find Rich. He'll be hiding.”

“You're right. Our best bet is to stop the helicopters taking off again. Or at least delay them till Ardman's team arrives.” Dad had opened one of the double doors a crack and was peering out.

“They've got a filing cabinet and a cupboard. Taking all the Banker's papers and stuff I guess.”

“And Rich?”

He shook his head. “No sign. I expect he's holed up tight somewhere safe.” He pulled the door fully open. “Right – all clear. They're on their way out.”

Chance walked out of the shattered remains of the school front entrance, surveying the scene outside. Jade ran to join him. A second helicopter had landed close to the first. He was in time to see the man with the red beard from the casino – Bannock – climbing in. The filing cabinet and cupboard were loaded after him. So that was the one to go for. “Bullet in the fuel tank ought to do the trick,” Chance murmured.

As he stood there, taking careful aim with his pistol, more lights appeared. Two pairs of bright headlights bouncing rapidly towards the helicopters as cars raced across the lawn. The first helicopter was already rising, the massive rotors lifting the machine noisily into the air. He braced himself, feet apart, and took careful aim at the second one.

The two police cars swerved round the second helicopter. One of them slammed to a halt, blocking Chance's line of fire. The second accelerated towards the school and skidded to a halt on the driveway, sending gravel flying.

The second helicopter was lifting now. Soon, Chance would have a clear shot at it. But before he could take aim again, uniformed policemen leaped out of the car on the drive. They took cover behind the open car doors, aiming their handguns – at Jade and her father.

“Armed police officers! Put down your weapon and keep your hands where we can see them. You have five seconds to comply or we will fire. That was your only warning.”

“But the helicopter's getting away!” Jade yelled back at them.