The Curse of Medusa

“Bastards ain’t getting a Range Rover through there, are they now?” Mikey said, swinging the wheel to the right and skidding onto the public walkway that stretched deep into the large park. He struck a trash can with the front left wing and sent it flying into the air behind them. It landed with a metallic smack in their wake as they powered forward into the park.

The Range Rover skidded violently to the right at the last minute to avoid the arch and roared south along St. Stephen’s Green.

Lea checked her mirror and saw the gunmen swerve dangerously around a few drunken students meandering along the street. “That was close!” she said. “They don’t care who they kill, it seems.”

“I’ll say,” Mikey said with conviction. “They showed that when they shot at my Ciara.”

A moment later they had no choice but to leave the park and rejoin the street.

Lea wound down the window and pulled a Glock from her holster. She clicked the seat-belt release and twisted around in her seat, a look of focussed determination on her face.

“What the hell are you doing, woman?” Mikey said, eyeing the Glock.

“Gonna take out those dirty little poxes, if that’s okay with you.”

“But we’re in the middle of Dublin! Not even I would start a shooting war here. There’s a Starbucks right there for God’s sake!”

“So?”

Mikey shook his head and sighed. “It just doesn’t feel right, that’s all.”

“Too bad — they have a bloody machine gun!”

She leaned out of the window and fired at the pursuing Range Rover, striking the front left headlight and smashing the glass out of the housing. It swerved in response but powered up, not down. Drawing closer, the man in the passenger seat stood up until his upper body was outside the sunroof.

“Uh-oh,” Lea said.

Devlin turned in his seat. “What does uh-oh mean?”

“Maybe we should get a move on, Mikey?” she said.

“What’s up?”

“I think he’s going to have another go with the MAT!”

Mikey sighed. “You hang out with some pretty crazy people, Danny — you know that?”

“Hey!” Lea said. “I am not crazy!”

“Tell that to the guys with the bloody machine gun aimed at my Ciara!”

Before she could respond, the man opened fire and peppered the back of the Quattro with the submachine gun. A line of bullets punctured the top of the boot and one hit the release mechanism, sending the boot-hatch into the air and blocking Mikey’s rear-view. “That’s just bloody fantastic — now I’ve not got any bloody mirrors to see what they’re up to!”

Another burst of submachine gunfire tore through the open car and blasted the windshield into a thousand pieces. Lea screamed and covered her face to protect herself from the flying glass.

“Get these arseholes off our backs, Lea!” Mikey shouted.

“I’ll handle it,” Lea said, and leaned out the window once again.

“The woman’s totally insane, Danny!”

Lea squinted through the sites. “Can’t you go any steadier?”

She heard Mikey sigh and then the car slowed.

The sights lined up with the Range Rover and she opened fire — a rapid burst of six shots. They started at the grille and worked up the hood to the windshield, which exploded into shards. She fired again, merciless, and this time struck the driver in his chest and throat.

Inside the large vehicle, panic ensued, but nothing could be done as they left the road at speed and smashed head-on into the side of a department store, clipping a support pillar and spinning around ninety degrees. The Range Rover tipped on its side as it piled through the front display, smashing mannequins and sales bunting as it tore through the front of the store.

Lea climbed back in the Audi and holstered her gun. “Sorted.”

“My poor Ciara…” Mikey said in a resigned tone.

“Sorry, Mikey!”

“You had to shoot at them, didn’t you? We could have had a nice, simple car chase though the city, lost them in the estates somewhere, and then had our picnic on the coast, but no.”

“They started it. Anyway, like I said…”

“I know, you’re sorry — but I can’t help feeling this is just the beginning.”

Lea sunk into her seat as Mikey weaved the Quattro out of the city and headed west. She didn’t say it, but she had the same feeling too.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Kiefel watched Alan Pauling as he counted him down to the next live broadcast and gave him the silent signal to speak to the world once again. For Kiefel, holding the American population in thrall like this brought him joy beyond measure.

“People of America! The time has come for me to deliver on the promise I made to you in my previous statement. You will now behold the greatest weapon on earth, a power so mighty it will reduce a living man to solid stone right before your eyes. Never forget that it is I, Klaus Kiefel who controls this weapon.”

On cue, Pauling increased the sound of the background music until Wagner’s Ride of the Valkyries filled the room. Kiefel closed his eyes and smiled smugly for a moment before moving his hand in time with the string section as the French horns blared and boomed. “Ah, das ist viel besser, nicht wahr?”