Cliff Ryder - The Finish Line

"I think he took her behind the ticket counter, but we're going to be hip deep in National Police in thirty seconds! We need to get her and get out!" she replied.

"All right, cover me from the shooter at eight o'clock!"

Tara turned and quickly sent four shots at the balcony, making the gunman duck for cover behind some kind of sculpture. David used the distraction to crawl over to the ticket booth, which was already pocked with bullet holes. A row of advertisements mounted on Plexiglas panels meant to funnel people out of the station extended in a line back from the large booth, but David thought there was just enough room to squeeze between the first one and the cubicle wall. He peeked underneath to make sure no one was on the other side, then sucked in his breath and forced his way through the narrow gap. Behind him, he heard more shots, followed by the loud report of unsilenced pistols, which meant the French police had arrived.

David slid to the far corner of the booth and listened hard, trying to hear who was around the corner. He heard the rustle of movement, then a man's voice speaking. "Liam, evade and head out the back way. Carl, Gregor, cover us until we're out the main door, then follow. I'm moving out right now."

Without hesitation, David half stepped out from behind the corner, aiming his pistol at the voice. Scarcely a yard away, the woman crouched, the man behind her, his arm around her waist and his other hand holding a pistol pointed up. His head snapped around at her indrawn breath. "What the — ?"

David had him in his sights, about to squeeze the trigger, when the woman moved, blocking his shot. Throwing an elbow into her captor's chest that shoved him backward, she scrambled toward David, who wrenched his own firearm up so as not to shoot her. The man recovered fast, bringing his pistol down to aim at both of them even as he fell to the floor. David grabbed her and pulled her around the corner just as the other man shot.

The hiss of the passing bullet was overwhelmed by a sharp explosion in the middle of the train station that sent shrapnel whizzing by. David covered the woman with his body and ran a quick check on her with one arm while keeping his pistol trained on the corner, ready for their assailant to come at them again. "Are you all right?" he asked.

"I…I think so," she said.

"M-Team, M-Team, this is M-Two. I have the target. Repeat, I have the target. All members withdraw. Repeat, withdraw to extraction point." David heard the singsong wail of the French police cars in the distance, and got up on the balls of his feet. "I need you to get ready to run as fast as you can, following the line of ads to the main doors. Once outside, turn right and head for the hospital next door. Can you do that?" he said.

The woman nodded. "Who are you?"

"Don't worry, we're on your side. Okay, ready — go!" David propelled her toward the main doors, doing his best to keep himself between her and any gunmen who might be pursuing. They were almost there when a shot from above them and to the left scored across the top of David's shoulder, making him gasp in pain and stagger to the doors.

She skidded to a stop and looked back. Raising his right arm across his body, David shot several times at the figure. "Keep moving!" He almost shoved her into the door, and together they staggered out into the Paris street.

"Jesus, Louis, what the hell was that?" Kate watched in helpless horror as the Gare du Nord train station erupted in gunfire and what looked like small explosions. "Where are your operatives?"

Louis sounded agitated, which, along with the public gunfight playing out in front of her, was Kate's confirmation that things had really gone to hell. "We're trying to raise them — they made contact with the target, then something happened and we lost contact."

"Well, keep trying, damn it! Okay, it looks like one of our team has the target, and has exited the station, so at least she's in our hands now. The National Police will be swarming all over that place, so you'd better make sure your people are going to be all right."

"I'm sure they will be fine. I'm more concerned about the Midnight Team doing something rash as they leave the area," Louis replied.

Kate scowled at the insinuation. "Like recover the target, exactly as they were supposed to? Knock it off, Louis, they're professionals. They came in to do a job and get out, that's all."

Kate checked the log hanging in virtual reality in front of her. It told her the location of each member of the Midnight Team at that exact moment. When they joined the agency, every Room 59 operative had a small transmitter implanted in his or her body. It was used to monitor their location at all times. Instead of five small green dots, there were four, which meant they had lost a member during the op. Kate pushed the unpleasant thought from her mind and concentrated on the here and now, watching through the M-Two's camera as he hustled the woman through the hospital. He may be a cowboy, but he sure got her out of there in one piece, she thought.

"All right, the target and her escort have reached the roof. I see two others entering the hospital, but we have no line of sight on the hostiles." That was the one drawback with their system — she knew exactly where her people were, but the bad guys had never gotten the memo to wear radio transmitters, so she never knew exactly where they were.

Kate dialed in. "M-One, this is Primary. What's your sitrep?"

"Upon entry, the team ran into a pair of hostiles on the way out with the target. The standoff distracted them long enough so that a backup pair was able to ambush, terminating M-Four. We have recovered the target, and she is on her way up now with M-Two. M-Three and M-Five are also withdrawing, and I expect them to arrive shortly."

Kate checked the feeds for M-Three and M-Five, watching them walk to the hospital doors, one of them limping, from the herky-jerky picture she saw. "Okay, listen up." This was the part she hated. "When the target is aboard, you give your people ninety seconds to arrive, and if they're not there, you withdraw."

"Say again, Primary?"

"The rest of your team has ninety seconds from when the target arrives to get to the evacuation vehicle. If they don't make it, you leave them behind. Acknowledge." Kate couldn't risk giving the other team another chance to acquire the woman — they had gotten too close to her twice already.

There was silence, then the team leader replied. "Affirmative."

"If they are left behind, we'll arrange for the French division to pick them up. The target is the important thing right now."

"Understood, Primary. M-One out."

"Louis, you got that?" Kate asked.

"I heard the whole thing, Kate. Don't you worry, if anyone is left behind, we'll be sure to get them to ground safely."

"Thank you." That was the other problem with Room 59's standard operating procedure. Although the agency had the approval of practically every other intelligence agency in the world, they were expected to execute their operations as quietly as possible. If they were caught, they were often treated like any other criminal, or, in these times, a suspected terrorist. Of course, Kate thought, shaking her head, any civilized country would look askance on people waving a gun around in a public place. The National Police would have little mercy on whomever they caught, friend or foe.

Kate wanted to pull off the eyewear and go take a long, hot bath, but that was an impossibility now. Instead, she leaned forward in her chair, silently rooting for the rest of the Midnight Team members to make it to the roof in one piece and get out of there.

I'm gonna kill that flicking bastard!