Charles Brokaw - The Lucifer Code

The sudden lack of movement seemed almost inconceivable after the last few seconds, but the terrible sounds of screeching metal and human screams continued echoing inside Lourds’ head.

We’re alive! he thought.

Then he looked at the ground-up corpse and the driver with part of his head missing.

Well, some of us are still alive.

‘Get up,’ Kristine ordered.

Lourds didn’t move. ‘You’ve got your pistol in my crotch.’

Kristine moved the pistol. ‘Get up.’

Lourds tried, but the strap was too tight with his weight against it. He couldn’t pull free. ‘I can’t. The strap’s-’

A short combat knife flashed in the young woman’s hand. The strap parted like butter under its keen edge.

She has a knife, Lourdes thought. A very sharp knife…

It terrified him even more than the gun.

The strap’s release caught Lourds off-guard. He fell onto the hulking man’s bleeding body. Before he could recoil, Kristine fell on top of him, then swung round, kicking him in the head in her haste, and stood. She pocketed the knife, shoved the pistol into the back of her waistband, and turned her attention to the broken door, currently above her head.

A familiar sickly sweet odour tickled his nostrils.

‘Do you smell gasoline?’ he asked.

‘Yes.’

Wetness slid under the hulking man’s corpse. Lourds hesitantly touched it and sniffed his finger. It was definitely gasoline. The smell overpowered even the stench of blood and death.

‘There’s gasoline under us,’ he said.

‘The impact must have ruptured the gas tank. Give me a hand with this door.’

‘No! All we need is a spark, possibly from messing with that jammed door, and we could be burned alive.’

‘Do you really think just sitting here is our best option, Professor? Haven’t you realized there’s worse out there than fire?’

Lourds didn’t say so to his weapon-toting keeper, but he thought waiting for help was an incredibly intelligent idea.

‘Get up and help me,’ Kristine said, ‘Even if the police arrive to rescue us, I’m not sure I want to answer any of their questions. Turkish jails aren’t comfortable. And that’s only if the police get here before more of those men from the airport arrive.’

‘You don’t know that there are any more.’ But she had a point. Even as he said it, Lourds liked his plan less and less.

‘They tried to shoot us in public. They mowed down civilians everywhere. Do you really think they would have only sent one team?’

‘I defer to your experience.’ Lourds scrambled out from under her and crouched on top of the corpse. His footing atop the dead man was treacherous.

Several people approached the SUV. Lourds saw them through the smashed front windshield. A few onlookers asked them if help was needed, but others pointed out the dead man and all the blood in the vehicle’s interior. It was a nightmare image. They kept their distance.

Kristine pulled her pistol and brandished it through the broken window. A few of the onlookers gave ground, but that did not apparently satisfy his kidnapper. She fired two quick rounds into the air. One of the brass casings flipped down the back of Lourds’ shirt and burned him until he was able to shake it free. He prayed the gasoline vapour wouldn’t explode and kill him.

It didn’t.

A mass exodus of spectators began at that point.

‘Why did you do that?’ Lourds said. ‘They were only trying to help.’

‘Because one of those good Samaritans might be standing out there with a pistol or a knife,’ Kristine answered. ‘You’re a hot item, Professor Lourds. I don’t know why those men at the airport wanted you, but I do know some other people paid me a lot of money to bring you to them.’

‘You were bait?’

‘I was told you have a weakness for young women. Judging from the way you threw yourself at me, it appears to be true.’

Lourds couldn’t believe it. ‘The way I threw myself at you? I did not throw myself at you, young lady.’

‘Now you’re noticing the differences in our ages? You didn’t seem too worried about it earlier, did you?’

Lourds tried to think of something to say, but he couldn’t even believe they’d got into the argument in the first place. They had more pressing concerns.

‘You’re standing in gasoline, Professor,’ the young woman taunted him.

‘That’s right! You could have killed us both by shooting that gun!’ Lourds said.

‘Both of you, shut up,’ snarled the man in the passenger seat; he was conscious again. He pointed a big pistol at them. ‘Or I will kill you both.’

Kristine turned her cold gaze on the man. For one tense second, Lourds felt certain she was going to kill the driver for threatening her.

‘You’re lucky your boss still owes me money,’ she said.

The man hesitated, then lowered his pistol and wiped at a cut on his face. ‘We need to get out of here.’

‘Agreed.’

Kristine turned her attention back to the jammed door. The gasoline stink was stronger now. Not relishing the idea of burning to death, Lourds helped her. This time the door gave way with a heart-stopping shriek of metal against metal. Fortunately they didn’t go up in flames.

The young woman grabbed the edges of the door and hauled herself out. Lourds jumped after her. They stood on the SUV looking down at the crowd, now hovering a safe distance away. His shirt hung in shreds and his whole body ached. He figured he looked like an extra in a zombie film. His hat was still on his head. He wondered what it looked like after all this.

Several onlookers had cameras, camcorders and camera phones pointed in their direction.

‘Come on.’ The man who had been sitting in the passenger seat stood in front of the SUV. He’d crawled through the broken windshield. Blood soaked his clothing and streaked his hands and face. He held a phone to his ear.

‘Where?’ Kristine asked.

‘There.’ The man pointed to a nearby alley. ‘There’s a car in the next street.’

At that moment, Lourds realized he should have been trying to escape his captors instead of looking round in a daze. He shifted his weight and leaped from the SUV, hoping to vanish into the crowd before Kristine or the man could catch him. Sadly, that wouldn’t keep them from shooting him in the back. But maybe they still wanted him alive.

But even as he moved, Kristine shot a hand out and caught his ankle. Rather than landing gracefully, prepared to flee for his life, he crashed inelegantly to the ground onto his already bruised face. His breath left him in a rush, but he struggled to get to his feet again. The crowd was only a few yards away. He could…

Kristine landed in front of him with the grace of an Olympic gymnast. She reached down and caught his hand in that excruciating grip again.

‘No,’ she said, addressing him like a dog about to chew on the furniture.

Reluctantly, Lourds got up and followed her like a well-trained canine.

The young woman and the man waved their weapons again and the crowd parted before them. Lourds struggled to keep pace with his captors. Running was awkward with his bruised body and his hand held in a death grip. Kristine seemed to be untouched by their adventures; she still moved like a dancer. Not Lourds. Every bone in his body ached and his face throbbed fiercely. They ran down the dirty alley. Shop doors thudded closed when the people inside saw them covered in blood and waving firearms.

By the time they’d reached the midpoint of the alley helicopter rotors were screaming overhead. Kristine threw her body into Lourds’. He smashed against the wall just as the helicopter floated into view.

‘Get out of sight!’ Kristine yelled at the other man. She pressed her body against Lourds’ and held him against the wall. The experience wasn’t altogether unpleasant. His body reacted instantly to hers. He prayed she wouldn’t notice.