Vivienne put her hands on her hips and faced Brett, who stood in the middle of the road. His countenance was truly one to behold. Vivienne thought his jaw was about to drop and hit the roadway, and his eyes bulged so much she thought they might pop out of his head, like the Mask character Jim Carey plays in the movie she giggled to herself.
Heaving a huge sigh, Vivienne flashed her husband an I told you so look, then as much as she disliked the nosy old fart, went around to the other side of the Corolla. Within seconds, it was back on its wheels in the driveway with only a few small dents and scratches to show for its short off road foray. Whats his name, Mister Nosy Old Fart Wallace, thats it! Come out now and complain you old barstard she thought.
Chapter Six. They Want You Down Under
The Buick was a nice enough car but being pushed the way it was, screeching tyres, screaming engine and smoking brakes was far beyond its design brief. He sawed at the wheel as an oncoming car appeared around the tight bend, missing by inches and testimony to luck not skill on the part of both drivers. He rounded the bend, ignoring the screeching tyres, more concerned about the temperature gauge. The little white needle had been stuck in the red zone for some minutes now, telltale wisps of steam whipped out around the edges of the bonnet.
Stop you son of a bitch he gritted out, and when the Buick began to hesitate, then slow, he pumped the accelerator and smacked the steering wheel with his open hands at the same time. No, no, not you you bitch of a thing Goddammit.
He nursed the now stalled vehicle into a lay-by and off the winding mountain road. Steam and smoke poured out from around the bonnet, the front wheel wells, and even through the grill. He smashed his fists into the steering wheel and jerked on the handbrake, hoping the sound of it snapping might alleviate some frustration. No luck there as it held solidly and condensation began to steam up the windscreen. He wrenched open the door, leapt out and slammed it shut, kicking at the dirt. As a final gesture, he slapped the suction mounted flashing strobe from its position on the roof, where hed managed to plant it only ten minutes earlier. It dangled down and swung lazily on its cord, the red light flashing along the side of the Buick. He placed his head slowly down onto his arms on the roof and rested as he heard the sound of sirens coming up the road behind him.
He went to the side of the road and waved past the first couple of black and whites, then a matching Buick to his own came screeching around the corner, only just managing a screeching halt when the driver saw him. His immediate thought was the cornering composure and speed of even a lowly black and white was far better than their environmentally friendly Buicks. Somebody saved a few Government dollars by purchasing compact sedans but just pushed this investigation into a financial loss amounting to a sum that would have bought ten bloody Buicks, he thought scornfully.
How far? the driver enquired.
Too far, unless we can get a chopper over him in the next minute or two. I reckon hed have disappeared down some little by road and lay low under some cover after that. Damn, damn it to hell, I could have had him, I was right on his tail, and he slapped the roof of the newly arrived Buick.
Cmon, well go for a cruise, see if we can catch the local yokels. You never know, one of them might have some brains and radioed ahead for a roadblock or something.
Yeah, yeah, alright, hang on.
He dawdled back to his now slowly steaming Buick, grabbed his bag from the back seat and popped it into the boot. He switched off the strobe and dropped it onto the dash and closed all the windows before finally using the key to activate the central locking. He kicked some more dirt at it, then went back to its twin and jumped into the passenger seat. The driver floored the accelerator that slammed his new passengers door closed and his back into the seat. He reached for his seatbelt as the driver activated the siren again.
Dont think we need to hurry. Told you, hes long gone. A regular Houdini this one.
How long you been chasing him now?
Off and on, about four years. Trouble is that hes smart, real smart. He only surfaces just before budget time. He knows we wont have the cash to make a serious effort at catching him. As soon as the budget is approved and the money comes in, he disappears.
This is close as you got?
Yeah, yeah it is. I saw him, I saw him face to face. Id dreamed of that day but in my dream I was slapping cuffs on him.
Witnesses back there say he drew a gun on you. They said you had every right to shoot. Why didnt you?
He knows, he knows I dont want to kill him, he knows that. And now I know too, I know he doesnt want to kill me. He likes me chasing him, thats his game. Its a new game now that weve been face to face.
You, you ever shot anyone, you know, had to shoot someone before?
He looked at the driver. He saw a young man, maybe mid-twenties, dark suit, black tie, light coloured shirt. A small bulge under his right armpit showed he was wearing a shoulder holster, and was left handed. Hed bet good money the kid also had a back up in an ankle holster. He didnt look down didnt need to. He was good with people. No, that was totally inaccurate. He was good about people, he wasnt good at all with them.
Son, even if I had, I wouldnt go bragging about it to anybody. Killing is not a trophy, its a travesty. I dont expect you to understand that but there is better ways than shooting someone.
The kid sneered. Yeah right, thats good coming from you.
He glanced again at the kid, okay, so he knew about Waco Texas, that didnt matter the whole world knew what a disaster Waco had been.
Well they probably taught you about that one at the Academy didnt they son? But Ill bet they taught you during the lessons about What Not To Do. And I never shot anyone there at Waco either, didnt have to.
Aint you Foster Barnes, the biggest baddest dude to come out of the FBI since the gangland days of the thirties? Aint you the active Agent with the most kills ever recorded since then? Aint you the one that shot all them..?
Thats enough kid.
He used the voice of authority, the one with a little tremor of menace he knew would get through. It worked perfectly, the kids mouth plopped closed as if hed reached over and whacked him under the chin. The kid even looked surprised at his own impulsive reaction, and was a little sheepish at letting his boyish enthusiasm override professional courtesy.
Son, lets try this again and I dont mind you tellin anybody that I told you this. Its in the official reports I never shot no one, what you heard was wrong. Ah, told you hed get away.
Theyd rounded another tight bend and were confronted with the black and whites parked diagonally across the road, one behind and one in front of the carefully parked Camaro in the centre of the road.
They got him, they got him! The kid yelled exuberantly as he braked to a halt but Barnes knew better as soon as he saw the scene.