Dominic Conlon - Silent Warpath

She had taken no more than ten steps when she stopped dead in her tracks. In the narrow alley the noise of the engine was overpowering. Silhouetted in a street light was a massive motorbike. She didn’t recognise Sean until she heard his voice.

‘Hop on, Nat. Let’s get the hell out of here.’

They put DD in a windowless and featureless room where he was kept waiting for two hours. Eventually a tall man wearing a fawn coloured overcoat came in. DD saw drops of rain on the coat. He wondered why there was only one man. Maybe he was their star performer, he thought — or maybe he was the warm-up before the main act.

The man sat down on the opposite side of the metal table and opened the jacket of his suit. Carefully he rested one leg over the other. ‘Evening DD. I hope you’re comfortable?’

DD could not hide his astonishment. How did they know his name? ‘Never felt better’ he said sourly.

‘I expect you thought you’d escaped our police cordon. Perhaps you were beginning to feel pleased with yourself?’

DD’s lips formed a thin line.

‘You must know how we do things in this country. Especially when we’re chasing criminals.’

DD’s expression hardened.

‘We laid on more cars than you thought. Surely you know how we work — after all, haven’t you been studying in one of our finest Universities for the last year?’

DD remained silent.

‘I expect if you don’t check back soon, there’ll be asking for you.’

How in hell did they know about his connection with the Security Services? DD managed a shrug of the shoulders. ‘You know how it is’ he said nonchalantly.

‘Indeed I do’ said his interrogator magnanimously. ‘I imagine you’ll want to know how your friend is making out at the hospital.’

DD thought rapidly. At least they didn’t know Lomax’s name. That was something.

‘No?’ asked the man. ‘I thought you and Lomax were a team — a great team. Surely you want to know how he is?’

DD bit his lip.

‘I’m afraid he’s not doing very well. I rang them just before I came in. The surgeon says it’s unlikely he will survive the night.’ The man glanced at DD. ‘I’m sorry.’

DD rested his forehead in both his hands. For the first time in years he felt truly alone.

Flakes of snow whipped past and the wind chilled her to the bone. They had turned away from the burning garage and were making steady progress to the outskirts of the town when the shock hit her system. She began to shake uncontrollably on the back of the bike. At the conscious level Natasha knew this was only the reaction to the extreme circumstances of her narrow escape. Her teeth chattered and she circled her arms around Sean even tighter. She laid her head against his back as she started to feel light headed. She held onto Sean like a rock at high tide. Strangely she had never felt so free in her life. Snowflakes swirled around her and one melted on her forehead.

A few moments passed before she heard the sound of the helicopter. At first she couldn’t see where it was coming from. When she glanced up she saw a powerful beam, snowflakes blowing in the downdraft. The helicopter quartered the ground behind them. She began to feel the chill of fear, colder than the freezing wind.

The beam of light seemed to be gaining on them and it would only take a minute before it caught up. She tapped Sean on the shoulder and pointed upwards. She heard a click and the lights on the motorbike cut out. Suddenly darkness surrounded her.

They were travelling along an unlit side road. She wondered how Sean could drive at this speed in the dark, with only the faint reflection of the snow on the road to guide them. The bike bucked a few times as it went over several ruts at speed. She felt Sean yank the handlebars to try and keep the bike steady. He was as blind as she was in the darkness.

Natasha looked back at the helicopter and its powerful light beam. It was gaining ground quickly now, following the contours of the track. At that moment she almost lost her balance and she felt the bike swerve around a sharp bend before heading onto a tarmac road. As she watched the bright beam from the helicopter faded into the distance, still following the curve of the farm track. Soon she lost it altogether.

For the second time in ten minutes she heaved a sigh of relief and offered up a prayer — until she realised the helicopter had turned back and was following the road towards them. She almost wept with despair. It was as if the men in the helicopter knew where they were headed before they did. How had they followed the bike?

There was nowhere else to run. On either side of the tarmac stretched open fields. She tapped Sean on the shoulder again, but he knew the helicopter was catching up.

‘Hang on’ he shouted above the roar of the bike. She gripped him as tightly as she could. They went off the road, bouncing and flying, hitting the ground hard and then jolting up again, wheels spinning in the snow. Natasha glimpsed trees in the distance, the branches picked out in white. The engine revved and the bike bucked again.

As soon as they entered the tree-line, Sean braked and stopped the bike. He made her get off quickly and without losing a second he led the bike by the handlebars into a dip in the earth, laying it on its side. He pulled his rucksack from the bike, undid the top straps quickly and started to shake out the contents.

‘Down!’ he ordered sharply. Natasha complied quickly, sitting down beside the bike.

‘Flat!’ he ordered, shaking out a silver blanket. He laid the blanket over the bike, holding the edges down with some nearby stones. Then he pulled it over her and quickly got under himself, tucking the edges in.

Natasha felt the air whip up around the blanket. If this was his idea of keeping warm, it just wasn’t going to work.

She heard the sound of the helicopter as it hovered overhead.

‘Grab a hold of the edge!’ commanded Sean.

Natasha was not sure what he meant, until he demonstrated. Underneath the thin blanket Sean used his hands and feet to trap the edges. The motorbike lay between them, like a third unwanted guest. She just couldn’t understand why Sean wanted it covered it as well. Nevertheless she grabbed the edges of the blanket on her side and copied him, using her body to wedge a further length of the blanket down the side.

The wind howled underneath, blowing in particles of snow which melted quickly over the hot engine. The blanket billowed up, threatening to blow away altogether. Natasha gripped it tighter, feeling its thin crinkly consistency. The texture reminded her of plastic kitchen foil.

Then the sound of the helicopter blew all thoughts away. Like a thousand washing machines on spin cycle, it descended over them. She glanced over at Sean who appeared to be lying back calmly, still holding his side of the blanket in place.

As the helicopter moved away the sound gradually diminished. Natasha waited, taking her lead from Sean. He continued to hold the blanket in place for several minutes after the helicopter had gone. In the relative peace she could hear the ticking of the motorbike engine as it cooled in the freezing air. She felt ridiculous, hiding under a blanket that gave no warmth. Her teeth chattered so violently she could hardly trust herself to speak.

‘Why are we doing this?’ she managed to say.

‘The helicopter is using thermal imagining to track us. The blanket is a thermal barrier to our heat sources — you, me and the bike.’

‘Sounds like the name of a film — you me and the bike’ she quipped. ‘Can we go — I’m freezing.’

‘Not just yet’ replied Sean. ‘They’ll be quartering the area for every heat signature. Our bike would show up as a big red blob, even at this distance. Let’s give them a minute.’