CHAPTER FIVE: THE MAN WITH THE RIFLE
529 Words
The hospital discharged Mira after four days.
She left with a scar, a cane, and a mission.
Find the courier.
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Brian Waverly-Donoghue (tech specialist) traced the dead man's switch to a woman.
Monica Radcliffe-Barrett. Paramedic. Worked at St. Mary's. The same hospital where Marcus lay dying.
"She was in the ambulance with you," Rafi said. "She could have killed you."
"She was supposed to keep me alive. Marcus needs me for his appeal."
"Where is she now?"
"Running."
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Heathrow Airport. Terminal 5.
Mira stood at the British Airways check-in, a black wig hiding her hair. Rafi beside her. DCI Blackwood-Reynolds behind them.
"Monica checked in online," DCI said. "Seat 14A. Flight to Dubai. Leaves in forty minutes."
Mira scanned the crowd.
Families. Businessmen. Tourists.
And then—Monica.
Blonde wig. Sunglasses. Limp.
"There."
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Monica saw them. Froze.
Then she ran.
The terminal exploded. Passengers screamed. Security shouted.
Monica bolted toward the emergency exit. Rafi tackled her ten feet from the door. They hit the ground. The wig flew off. Sunglasses shattered.
Monica was handcuffed within seconds.
Mira walked up to her. Looked down.
"The timer," Mira said. "How do we stop it?"
Monica laughed. "You can't. The files are already uploaded. The timer was a decoy."
Mira's blood went cold. "What?"
"By now, every journalist on Marcus's list has the password. The files are out."
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DCI Blackwood-Reynolds grabbed Monica's arm. "Where is the server?"
"Zurich. Good luck getting the Swiss to cooperate."
Monica was led away.
Mira stood in the middle of the terminal, surrounded by strangers, her world crumbling.
The files were out.
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Scotland Yard. Conference Room.
The list of recipients was devastating. Journalists. Politicians. Judges. Police officers. Criminals.
"The damage is extensive," Commander William Pemberton-Barrett said. "Dozens of public officials are implicated. Some have already resigned."
Mira stared at the screen. "Marcus didn't want to stay alive. He wanted to start a war."
"Then how do we stop it?"
"We find the server in Zurich. We find out who else has copies. And we remove his pacemaker."
"Removing the pacemaker could kill him."
"Not if we do it in a hospital. With a team of surgeons. We sedate him, remove the pacemaker, and restart his heart manually."
Rafi stared at her. "You want to operate on Marcus? Keep him alive?"
"I want to remove his weapon."
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St. Mary's Hospital. Marcus's Room.
Marcus Drake lay in a hospital bed, handcuffed to the rail. His skin was yellow. His eyes were sunken. Dying.
He smiled when Mira walked in.
"You came to watch me die."
"I came to ask you a question."
"Ask."
"Where are the other couriers? The other copies?"
"Why would I tell you?"
"Because I'm the only reason you're getting a transplant. Cooperate, or you die in this bed."
Marcus laughed. A wet, rattling sound.
"I'm dying anyway, Mira. But I'm taking you with me."
He closed his eyes.
Mira turned to Rafi. "Find them. Every courier. Every copy. Every trigger."
"We will."
"Day 7,311."
"What?"
"The day I decided to win."
She walked out.
Marcus's heart monitor beeped.
The war was far from over.
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END OF CHAPTER 5
- Writer
