The Outsider (James Bishop 4) (47 page)

Bishop had no choice now. It was on. And Barney was still too far away. Tossing the scope, Bishop grabbed the Glock in his waistband and shouted, ‘
Run, Barney!
Fast as you can. Don’t think. Run!
’

The boy didn’t even hesitate. He simply lowered his head and began running towards Bishop, arms and legs pumping away in unison. In his peripheral vision, Bishop could see Callaway already had an arm round the struggling Strickland’s neck and was using him as a shield as he dragged him back towards the SUV.

Bishop heard the crack of a rifle shot, the one sound he didn’t want to hear. And it sounded close. Nelson? Possibly. He didn’t know. All his attention was on Barney, who’d already halved the distance and was still running full pelt towards him. He could actually hear the boy’s rapid breathing as he got closer.

‘
Keep going
,’ Bishop shouted. ‘
You’re almost home
.’

Barney was still only ten feet away when there was another shot, and the boy arched his back and his face went slack, all power in his legs suddenly gone.

Bishop watched in horror as the boy quickly sagged to his knees. The boy had enough time to give Bishop a look of complete astonishment, and then with his arms outstretched he pitched forward, face down, onto the ground.

Unmoving.

As Bishop raced towards the fallen boy the sounds of distant gunfire started up all around him, but he was barely conscious of it. All that mattered was reaching the boy. Nothing else.

He covered the distance in no time at all and crouched down and grabbed the collar of the boy’s flight jacket. He noticed the large ragged bullet-hole in the boy’s back, around the lower spine area, but paid it no mind. Get the boy out of the crossfire first, worry about the rest later. Keeping as low as possible, Bishop began dragging the boy along the ground, back to the safety of the building behind them.

Something ricocheted on the ground a few feet to his right. Bishop ignored it. Then came another to his left, inches from his foot. And another. Stray bullets were whizzing all around them like mosquitoes, but none of them hit Barney. Or Bishop. He wasn’t worried too much about small arms fire, not from two hundred feet away. It was practically impossible to get any kind of accuracy from that distance. Even the sub-machine guns would be useless at that range. The real danger came from the two snipers still left. He was sure it was one of them who’d got Barney.

Without slowing his pace, Bishop raised the Glock, aimed in the direction of the two vehicles in the distance and fired off a dozen shots. Purely as a distraction. He had no idea if he hit anything.

Sounds of rifle shots were also coming from above. Nelson was doing his thing up there, laying down what little cover he could. Knocking the enemy down whenever he could. Nelson was a good man. One of the best.

Bishop kept backing up, dragging the boy with him. Then, before he knew it, he felt the wall of the office building at his back. He turned and saw that beautiful triangular gap was just to his right. Reaching down, he quickly hefted Barney up into his arms and jumped with him through the gap and into the safety of the shadows. He moved a few feet to the left, away from the light, then dropped to his knees and laid Barney gently down onto the ground.

The boy’s eyes were closed. Bishop unzipped the heavy flight jacket and quickly reached round the boy’s waist and carefully moved his fingers along his lower back. He felt no wetness. No blood. Removing his hand, he turned the boy over and inspected the bullet hole in the jacket. He saw the glint of something metallic and inserted a finger and enlarged the hole.

Bishop breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of the .223 slug embedded in the thick body armour.

The bulletproof jacket had done its job perfectly. Nelson had assured him the thirty layers of Gold Flex ballistic fibre sewn into the lining would be enough to stop most high-calibre rounds, and he’d been right as usual. The man knew his equipment.

Barney was all right. The poor kid would have some lower back pain for a while, but that would pass. He was alive, and that’s what counted.

He turned the boy onto his back again and patted his cheek in an effort to bring him round. Outside, the sounds of gunfire had already died down to almost nothing. Bishop kept on patting the boy’s cheeks until Barney’s eyelids started flickering.

From upstairs, Nelson shouted, ‘
Bishop, give me a sit-rep.
’

‘
We’re both okay
,’ he shouted back. ‘
What’s happening out there?
’

Barney’s eyes opened at that point, and he looked up at Bishop, blinking rapidly.

‘
They’re getting ready to take off
,’ Nelson shouted back. There was the sharp crack of a rifle shot from upstairs. Then another. ‘
Managed to drop some of ’em and I killed the car, but Callaway’s just gotten in the SUV with Strickland. I shot out two tyres on the sucker
,
but that won’t stop ’em
.’

Bishop turned back to Barney, who was blinking as he took in his surroundings.

‘You’re in the old office building,’ Bishop said.

‘Yeah, I recognize it,’ Barney said, staring up at the ceiling, or what was left of it. ‘What happened? Something hit me in the back, but I don’t—’

‘You got shot,’ Bishop said. ‘The jacket stopped the bullet, though. You’re all right now. You’re safe.’

Barney just stared at him for a moment, and then his eyes got wide. He shouted, ‘
Dad!
’ and struggled to get up, wincing at the sudden pain in his back. Bishop quickly got to his own feet and pulled Barney up with him. But before Bishop could stop him, Barney slipped from his grip and ran over to the gap in the wall and looked out. Bishop ran over and grabbed his arm, ready to pull him back out of harm’s way, but paused when he realized nobody was shooting at them.

Standing next to the boy, Bishop studied the distant scene. There was a small column of smoke rising from the hood of the sedan, so Nelson had clearly made a mess of something in there. He saw three bodies lying on the ground around the car. They weren’t moving. The SUV was, though. Lop-sided from the two flat tyres on the driver’s side, it had just completed a U-turn and was now pointing away from them. Then the vehicle began to slowly move off, making jerky movements each time the wheel rims hit a bump. Further back, the two remaining vehicles were already facing the other way, apparently waiting for the SUV to reach them before taking off.

‘Dad,’ Barney said in a forlorn voice, with one hand pressed to his lower back. He turned to Bishop. ‘Where is he? Did you see?’

‘He’s in the SUV,’ Bishop said, then swivelled his body at the sound of movement behind him. He raised the Glock, finger already on the trigger.

But it was just Nelson. He was carrying his M24 rifle in one hand and a small canvas ammo pouch in the other. He nodded at Bishop, who lowered the gun and turned back to the departing SUV. It was already about two hundred and fifty feet away. The other two vehicles were also in motion just ahead of it.

Nelson stood behind them, watching the vehicles recede. ‘I don’t know,’ he said in a musing tone. ‘Maybe Callaway cuffed him before he could get to his pocket. Or maybe he just knocked the guy out and then searched him.’

‘Maybe,’ Bishop agreed.

Barney turned to Bishop, looking as confused as ever. ‘What? I don’t understand. Search for what?’

Bishop was just opening his mouth to say, ‘
The detonator
,’ when there was a brilliant flash of light, accompanied by a thunderous roar, as the SUV exploded in a huge ball of flame.

Barney jumped at the sudden noise of the blast. They all did. It was that loud. Even from two hundred and fifty feet away it sounded like the end of the world. Bishop watched as the flames coming from the vehicle were immediately engulfed by an enormous ball of black smoke, which in turn blossomed out even further before rising into the sky.

The SUV was gone. All that was left was an undefined shape that could have been anything. Bishop saw the other two vehicles had caught a good part of the blast too. One was lying on its roof about twenty feet away. The other car was still upright, but the roof and window frames were now completely missing, as though somebody had sheared through it with a large horizontal scythe.

‘
Dad!
’ Barney screamed. He tried to jump through the gap in the wall, but Bishop grabbed hold of his arm and pulled him back in.

‘
You blew him up
,
you blew him up
,’ Barney cried, struggling to free himself and punching Bishop in the chest, in the stomach, in the neck. ‘
You killed my dad, you shithead
.’

Bishop took the punches for a while, letting the boy work off his anger and grief. He understood the kid needed to lash out at something. It was only natural. But when Barney got a good one in that almost flattened his windpipe, he grabbed the boy’s fist and said calmly, ‘Stop, Barney. I didn’t do anything. It was your dad’s choice.’

The punches stopped as suddenly as they started. Barney dropped his hands and looked up at him, his eyes full of tears. ‘What are you talking about?’

‘Your dad was many things, Barney, but he wasn’t stupid. He knew what would happen once Hartnell got his hands on him, and that it wouldn’t be pretty. You understand what I’m saying?’

The boy swallowed. ‘You … you mean they’d torture him?’

‘Maybe not torture, but they would have certainly drawn things out to maximize the pain. See, your dad had already come to terms with the fact that he wouldn’t survive this, but what he was most concerned about – other than making sure you were safe – was the manner in which he went. He told me that when his time came he wanted it to be on his terms, and that’s exactly what he did.’

‘What happened?’

‘You saw what happened. You don’t need to hear the grisly details.’

The boy sniffed. ‘I want to know everything. Tell me.’

Bishop studied the boy for a beat, then shrugged. He had the right to hear the truth, if that’s what he wanted. ‘Nelson here brought along a lot of extra stuff in that bag of his, including five pounds of C4. As soon as your dad saw the two blocks of plastic explosive he came up with the idea of strapping them to his stomach and setting them off once he was alone with Callaway. I agreed, and reshaped the plastique and taped it to his body, then ran the detonator leads through his jacket pocket. That’s why he pulled your arms away when you hugged him round the waist. He must have been afraid the stuff might go off by accident, but plastique only ignites when you send a high energy shockwave into the blasting caps.’

Bishop looked out at the still-smoking wreck of the vehicle, imagining Strickland’s last few seconds on this earth. With what he now knew of the man, he had no doubt that Strickland had been thinking of Barney at the very last moment as he pressed down on that button. He said, ‘I also think your dad purposely waited for the SUV to catch up with the other two vehicles before pressing the button. He told me he wanted to take as many of the enemy with him as he possibly could. No doubt about it, your dad had real guts.’

Barney was silent for a moment. Then he said, ‘Did it … did it hurt at all?’

‘No, it would have been instantaneous, like a light being switched on. Believe me, he wouldn’t have felt anything at all. And he went out a winner too, remember that.’

Sniffing back more tears, Barney said, ‘A winner?’

‘I’d say so. Wouldn’t you?’

‘I know
I
would,’ Nelson said. He was crouched down in front of the gym bag as he carefully placed his rifle inside. He zipped the bag closed and added, ‘Your old man had class, kid. When my turn comes I want to go out like that. Not that I will, of course.’

Bishop pulled out his cell phone and checked the display. It was still only 06.23. Astonishing. He’d thought it much later.

‘So what happens now?’ Nelson asked, rising to his feet.

‘Now I call the feds to come bring the two of us in,’ Bishop said. ‘But there’s no reason for anybody else to know of your involvement here, so you’d better take off.’

‘You sure, man? I don’t mind sticking around. Maybe I can help.’

‘You already have, Nels. I won’t forget what you did here today.’

Nelson offered Bishop a clenched fist. ‘What buddies are for, right?’

‘Right,’ Bishop said. He bumped fists with his old comrade, and said, ‘Now get lost. And take your crap with you.’

‘I’m gone.’ With a grin, Nelson hefted the gym bag over his shoulder and stepped through the gap in the wall. Then he gave Barney a salute, turned right and immediately disappeared from view.

Barney stared mutely out at the wreckage, which was still sending huge black smoke signals up into the sky, and wiped an arm across his eyes.

Bishop raised the cell phone and keyed in the number he’d memorized while he and Strickland had been waiting in this very spot before. After five rings, the phone was picked up and a male voice said, ‘US Marshals Service, Columbus Office.’

‘My name’s Bishop. I’m here with the son of a missing witness of yours. I understand you’ve been looking for us …’

They were both sitting on the ground in front of the main building, waiting for the marshals to arrive, when Barney finally raised his head from between his knees to stare at the wreckage before them. Bishop saw his eyes were red-rimmed, but dry. He wondered if the boy had simply cried himself out, just as Bishop had done all those years ago.

After thirty minutes of silence he was still waiting for Barney to speak, but he figured he’d talk when he was good and ready. That’s how Bishop had been after his own personal apocalypse. And after everything he’d been through, the boy deserved his own space and to be able to proceed in his own time.