Revenge (10 page)

Sitting in the front seat of the car, wearing nothing but swimming shorts, Jason began shaking uncontrollably. His young body was cut, bruised, and burned from the sun—and it was taking its toll on him. He was exhausted.

As Jean started to drive off, Jason thought about his father. His eyes stung as tears ran down his cheeks. He turned his head away and looked out the window, trying to conceal his tears. For their sake, he acted tough, but inside, he was in pain and wanted nothing more than to burst out in sobs.

She drove to Malaga Hospital, where Martin was taken into the emergency ward. Jason called Interpol and then was given some basic medical treatment for his cuts. His neck and chest were badly bruised, but nothing was broken when he was given an X-ray.

Jean sat in the waiting room with Joanne. They looked up at Jason as he entered.

“I called Interpol. George had given me the number just in case,” he said. “The local police will be here any second and will take me and Jo to a safe house. Jo, your father has already sent an agent from China. He will take care of you.”

“What about you, Jason?” she asked.

“I will probably stay at the safe house until you are safe and they catch Boudica.”

They didn't have time to say good-bye to Jean and Martin. A police car arrived, and two Spanish police officers came to collect Jason and Joanne and move them to safety.

• • •

Jason remained silent for the journey to the safe house. He didn't speak to Joanne, even when she asked if his feet felt better in his new socks and shoes. He ignored the remark and wished he was someplace else. He gently touched his neck. It was swollen and badly bruised from Kotang's attempt to kill him.

“Jason, I asked you a question. What's wrong with you? You've been like this since we left the farm,” she asked.

“You mean, since you and Jean left me to fend off a car full of armed Triads that resulted in getting run over and nearly burned to death,” he snapped back.

“You told her to drive off and wait.”

He knew she was right, but he did not want to talk about it. He shook his head and looked away. The number of dead bodies and the constant pressure were getting to him. Even though he had washed up at the hospital, he could still smell the burning flesh of the Triads who never made it out of the car.

A message came over the radio in Spanish. The two officers looked at each other and shook their heads. One grabbed the car's radio, replied, and then turned the car around. Jason did not translate much of the conversation—something about taking them somewhere to be picked up.

As the last few houses past them and they once again came into open countryside, Jason finally started to question what was happening.

“We should be going to a police station,” he said in Spanish.

“
Sí
, but now we have orders to take you to the main highway and wait. Spanish Special Forces will take care of you.”

It made sense to Jason. The local police may not have been able to protect Joanne, but he had a bad feeling in his gut. He sat back heavily in his seat and tried to relax, but something was still bothering him. An uneasy feeling snaked around his insides and gave him a tight knot in his stomach.

“Sorry,” he said quietly to Joanne without looking at her.

She looked at him sympathetically and smiled. “What for? You're right, Jason. We expect too much of you.”

“It's not your fault. None of this is. You can't help having an important father.” He smiled back and gestured his hand to shake in friendship. Joanne took his hand and held it with both of her hands. He gave her a tight-lipped smile.

They stopped at a large service station on the main highway. A few cars were filling up with gas. Some drivers were eating inside at the café. The police car waited at the end of the parking lot.

Jason noticed a black Mercedes parked to his left. Maybe he was being paranoid. Not every driver of a black Mercedes wanted to kill him. But when a second black Mercedes stopped just a few parking places away to his right, he started to get nervous.

He noticed several Asian men dressed in the same black clothing as the hit men getting out of the car at the same time.

Move! They're Triads. It's a trap,” Jason shouted.

The windscreen shattered as two bullets broke through and planted themselves in the head of the driver. The other police officer took out his gun and fired back. Joanne screamed, her hands over her head. Jason took the gun from the dead driver's holster and shot back at them. The two Triads to his left both fell. With the police officer shooting at the gunmen on the other side, Jason kicked opened his door and pulled Joanne with him, keeping low to the ground.

Another black Mercedes screeched to a halt. The doors opened, and three men with automatic weapons got out. Jason ran with Joanne down a small embankment that dropped down to a field with a few grazing cows. As he helped her over the wire fence, the sound of automatic gunfire and shattering glass came from above. The police car was riddled with 9mm bullets. The policeman was hit, his body slumped over his dead colleague.

“Run and don't stop,” Jason shouted at Joanne. She did as she was told and ran off across the field.

Jason ducked down with nothing other than a small fence post to protect him. He looked at the gun he was holding—an Italian-made Beretta 92S. He took out the clip and counted five bullets.

Five
bullets
against
all
those
automatic
guns. I'm a goner.

He picked himself up and ran after Joanne. They may not shoot at him if she were with him. To stay and try to fight would be foolish.

A few shots pounded the ground around him, giving him a burst of speed. He didn't stop to return fire. He figured the farther away he could get and the closer to Joanne, the safer he would be.

One of the Mercedes attempted to drive down the embankment; however, the bank proved too steep and the car slid down and became wedged under the wire fence. One got out and ran after Jason on foot. Joanne stopped and looked back. She was relieved when she saw that Jason was coming after her, but she screamed when she saw that they were being chased by one of the men.

“Jason, behind you!”

Jason glanced back and cursed. He dove to the ground and aimed his gun at the man who was getting closer.

The man wrongly assumed the boy he was chasing stumbled and fell. By the time the man saw the glint of light shining off the revolver Jason was holding, it was too late—too late to stop and too late to pull his own gun. He felt the thud against his chest before he heard the first shot. He was dead before the second shot. It sickened Jason to have to kill again.

Why
do
they
keep
coming?

He picked himself up and caught up with Joanne. In tears, she flung her arms around him when he finally reached her. For a few moments, he closed his eyes and enjoyed the luxury of a friendly hug. He looked back to see if they were being followed. The area was clear. He held her hand and continued running through the field farther away from the road and into the countryside.

The field ended with a taller wire fence that was almost six feet tall with heavy-duty wire. Without stopping to think, they climbed over it and dropped down the other side. The grass was greener, and it gave off a lush, fresh smell as they walked across the field, hand in hand.

Once again, the sun was burning into Jason's neck. He wished now he had chosen a shirt with a collar when he had been given clothing at the hospital.

“Jason, we're being watched,” Joanne said and grinned.

Jason's head spun around in all directions. “Where? Who?” he gasped.

“Not who, silly. Look…a cow. She's chewing her cud and watching us.”

“Chewing her what?” he asked.

“It's cud. They eat grass and then regurgitate it and chew it all over again. They have three stomachs.”

“Eeew, that's gross. Remind me never to eat beef again,” he said and laughed, screwing up his face.

“You drink loads of milk.” She laughed back and mimicked the face he was pulling.

They carried on walking through the field. Jason kept checking to see if the Triads were still following and glanced at the cow watching them. Jason stopped in his tracks.

“That's not a cow. It's a bull,” he said.

“Are you sure? Even cows can have horns.”

“I may not be as smart as you, but I can tell the difference between male and female.
That
is a bull. Keep walking but faster.”

“Don't be silly. It won't hurt us.”

“Now we know why there's a huge wire fence. It's coming. Come on.” He started jogging. Joanne was tugged along.

“Jason, it won't hurt us. Although,” she said and then paused, “come to think of it, we are in Spain. You don't think they're training it for bullfighting, do you?
It's coming!
” she screamed.

The bull lowered its head and charged.

The ground shook beneath the bull's feet as his hooves pounded the ground. Its huge, sweat-flecked body came closer and closer.

Jason pulled Joanne along. They were too far away from the fence to get out of harm's way. The bull was gaining ground and fast. The thud, thud, thud from his hooves became louder. Jason stopped, pulled the gun from his shorts, and shot at it three times. The bull's front legs gave way. Its massive head ploughed into the ground, and it came to an abrupt halt just a few feet away, steam slowly rising from its body.

“What did you do that for? The poor thing,” Joanne whined.

“Are you for
real
?” he asked in disbelief. “It was gonna crush us.”

“It's not the bull's fault. They train it to do that and stick him in a ring with thousands of people watching. Then they stick spears in it and tease it to make it chase people.”

“You don't need to tease it. It knew what to do. Come on. We'd better keep moving,” he said, throwing the empty gun away.

Girls
are
crazy. “What did you do that for?”
he mimicked to himself, shaking his head.

After two hours of walking north through the Spanish countryside, they stopped and took shelter from the sun under a tree. He watched her as she closed her eyes and relaxed. The sun filtered through the branches and leaves. Her lightly tanned Asian face glistened with a thin layer of sweat. Her black hair fell delicately down her back as she tilted her head back to rest against the trunk. Her stomach started to rumble loudly.

“Oops, excuse me,” she said in Chinese with half a smile. Jason smiled back at her and looked into her brown eyes. Joanne smiled and looked deep into Jason's sapphire blue eyes. His perfect white teeth stood out in the shade. His face was tanned. His blond hair was stuck up in all directions. She put her hand through his blond hair and laughed. “You need to comb this. Look, you have still got a piece of straw in it.” She grinned and spoke in Chinese. Her hand plucked the straw out. Then she gently held his shoulder.

“Thanks.” He paused and looked at her. For a few brief moments, the world stopped revolving and the birds stopped singing. It almost felt as if the clouds stopped drifting overhead. They said nothing. Their gaze was intense—their faces just a few inches apart. It felt so natural, but it felt forbidden too. She was a school friend of Catherine's. He was Catherine's boyfriend and a Westerner. Her father would never approve of someone like him. She broke the gaze, removed her hand, and tried to break the silence. “Your Chinese is good, although you speak it with an English accent,” she joked.

“Your English is good, although you speak it with a Chinese accent,” he said and grinned.

“Why couldn't we stay with Jean and Martin or now go direct to a police station?”

“We can't trust them. They knew we were at the villa, so they must have inside information. Someone working for SYUI has betrayed us. We now know they have connections here, as they gave the orders to those poor policemen,” he said and sighed. “Come on. We'd better get moving. I want to get far away from here.” He forced himself up onto his tired legs—his muscles complaining as he did. He pulled Joanne up. As they walked, she held his hand. He looked at her and she was crying again.

“What did I say?”

She stopped and burst out in tears and hugged Jason. “Martin…he might die because of me,” she cried.

Jason held her tightly, trying to think of something to say but nothing he could think of would be appropriate. “No, I think he will be okay, but if he dies, it's because of Boudica.”

• • •

Back in London, Raymond Steed arrived at SYUI with Scott in tow to find out where exactly they had taken his son. Ray was surprised how many police and SYUI officers knew Scott on a first-name basis.

“How much time have you spent here?” Ray asked as they climbed a flight of stairs.

“I was here every day when Jase was in juvie. I wanted to know everything that was happening. I want a job here when I grow up. This place is amazing.”

“How did Jason cope with juvie?”

“He hated it. He had to fight his way through it. Every time I saw him, his knuckles were cut and split. But that wasn't the worst part. Every time I visited him and it was time for me to leave, he got upset. You could see it in his eyes. They welled up. He hated staying there.”

Inside the SYUI department, they bumped into George, who was coming out of the men's room and wiping his hands on his pants. He immediately noticed Scott and smiled.

“All right, mate. How's it going?” he asked. Then he stuttered when he noticed Raymond Steed. “Mr. Steed, I, um…did not know you were back. Nice to see ya again.” George gulped, holding his hand out for Ray.

“Where is Jason?” Ray said, coming straight to the point.

“Let's have a chat. Fancy a brew?” George asked, gesturing to the coffeepot.

“No thanks.” They followed George into his office. He tipped some files off a chair facing his desk so Ray could sit. Slowly, he walked around to his desk and sat looking at Ray.

“Jason's with my wife and son in my villa in Spain. We also have the daughter of the Chinese commissioner there. I did it for their safety. Yeah, and I know before you say it. It's my fault he had to leave the country, I know. My own family is at risk. The Triads want revenge for bringing Boudica's empire down. It's cost them millions. We have temporarily lost contact with me misses. They've probably gone fishing or shopping,” he said, slightly concerned.

“When did you last talk to them?” Scott asked.

“Two days ago, but you know what women are like—”

“They were supposed to call every day,” Scott snapped back. Ray looked shocked, looked back at George, raised his eyebrows, and asked for an explanation.

“All right, keep your hat on. We called the local police, who said they would drop in and say hello. They should be reporting back any second. I'll get that brew I promised and see if they've heard anything. Scott, show Mr. Steed around,” George said, climbing out from behind his desk.

When George came back, he was as white as a sheet and sat heavily into a chair, looking straight ahead but not focusing on anything.

“You had better start telling me what's going on, George,” Ray shouted.

George got up, loosened his tie, and ran his hand through his greasy hair. He looked at Ray. “They found three dead bodies at my villa—Boudica's men. They also found the neighbor, a French woman, shot dead. My wife and the kids are gone. They are still looking at the scene, but there may be some good news. Two of the dead men had been shot, but the third had no marks on him. They are going to examine his body,” George said. He was now sweating more than usual.

“Why is that good news?” Ray snapped back.

“I can only think of one person who can kill with his bare hands. We both know who that is,” George said, forcing a smile.

“Jason Steed strikes again,” Scott said and punched the air in triumph so hard he could have left a bruise. The adults around him looked down at him. His remark was in bad taste, but that was typical Scott.

“When will we know more?” Ray asked.

“The Spanish Police are searching the whole area now. They will find them. Mrs. Young has probably just moved to a safer place. It's now a full-scale murder investigation,” he said.

• • •

By late afternoon, Jason and Joanne stumbled across a railway track and followed it north. Whenever they heard a train approaching, they would hide behind shrubs and vegetation so they could keep out of sight. They had no idea who they were hiding from, but they felt safer being out of sight. The sun was hotter today, and the jagged terrain all seemed the same.

They eventually came upon a tiny railroad station. Tired, they decided it would be safe enough to board.

“If this is correct, the train will be here in half an hour. I'll get two tickets,” Jason said, digging in his pocket for the money Interpol had given him for snacks. His voice was slightly hoarse, and he rubbed his throat, which was severely bruised from the stranglehold Kotang had had him in yesterday.

Jason smiled as he helped Joanne up into the carriage. He looked over her shoulder and noticed a figure duck behind a wall. Jason looked up and down the platform but could not see the man again. Joanne left Jason looking out the window and went to find a seat. Slowly, the train started to pull out. Jason noticed that four men ran for the train. They opened the door much to the objection of the guard and jumped on.