Revenge (11 page)

Unaware, Joanne had already gone off down the corridor. Jason wanted to jump off, but she was gone. His face turned white as he ran down the corridor with a sense of dread and looked through the windows of the compartments. He got to the end of the carriage and went into the first-class section. He continued running down the corridor and looking through the windows. Then he saw her taking a seat in a sleeping compartment.

“Where did you go? Are you stupid or what? We have to get off. Come on,” he shouted as he grabbed her arm. He took her to the main doors and opened them. They had already left the platform and started moving a lot faster.

“I can't jump down there,” Joanne protested.

“Stay here,” he said. He opened the door, and before she could protest, he was gone. Rather than wait for the Triads to attack, he would go after them. He looked down the corridor, and he saw that it was still clear. He could not yet see them. They were still a few carriages back, working their way forward. Jason opened the sleeping compartments and searched for anything he could use as a weapon. In the first compartment, he found a lady sleeping. He looked at her belongings but could not see anything he could use, so he moved onto the next. A young couple lay on the bed, smoking.

“Get out. This is private,” they shouted in Spanish.

“Sorry,” Jason said and smirked. The next sleeping compartment he checked was empty. As he made his way to the end of the carriage, he could now see ahead. The four men dressed in black would soon be in his carriage. They slammed every door as they rapidly worked their way forward. Jason quickly ran back to the sleeping compartment with the lady. He opened the door and went through her belongings. He picked up a can of hair spray. He then ran to the next compartment with the young couple. Again, they protested and tried to cover up. Jason quickly ran and made a grab for the cigarette lighter. Then he ran back out.

Jason ducked into the empty compartment. He closed the door, pulled down the fold-up bed, jumped on it, and closed it with him hiding inside. The train slowed down a little when the track took a steep turn around a mountain. Above his racing heartbeat, he heard the door opening and voices. They were in the compartment with him. Not leaving anything to chance, they lowered the folding bed and were taken by surprise. Jason sprayed the hair spray at them and lit the cigarette lighter. A huge ball of flame burst out in their direction. Two men screamed out in pain. One ran out of the compartment, holding his face. The other fell back against the window. Jason jumped down and threw a roundhouse kick at the man, knocking the wind out of him. He dropped his gun and fell to his knees and held his eyes in pain. Jason grabbed the gun and turned. The other man was moaning and holding his eyes in pain.

The air was filled with the ghastly smell of burnt hair and singed flesh. Jason crawled on his elbows to the doorway, the gun in front of him. As he got to the door, he could see the leg of another man creeping slowly toward the door. The train entered a tunnel. The dim lights gave Jason the chance to see the man's reflection in the window. He was getting closer—a gun aimed at the doorway. The two blinded men continued moaning and asking for help. Jason lurched forward, took aim, and fired a single shot at the man. The bullet hit his chest, and the impact from the German P32 gun threw the man back down the corridor, where he now lay motionless. Jason jumped to his feet and looked for the fourth man, who was nowhere to be seen.

He grabbed one of the blinded men by the arm.

“I'll help you. We need to wash your eyes. Come with me to the bathroom,” Jason spat. He guided the man down the corridor and opened the main door to the carriage. Without a second thought, Jason shoved him off train. He went back and did the same to the second blinded man. Once both injured men were off the train, he decided to throw the dead Triad's body off the train too. He hated touching the dead man's hands, but he pulled the body back down the corridor. He was heavy, but slowly, Jason made progress. Once he got the body to the doorway, he started to push it out of the train.

He sensed something behind him. He turned and saw the fourth man kicking out at him. Jason blocked the kick, but the momentum pushed him back and almost out of the door. He held on with one hand, trying to crawl back over the body that was now almost fully out the door. The man kicked again at Jason and caught him in the face, knocking the boy back farther. Jason scrambled to stay on the train. The body that Jason was kneeling on fell out and rolled down the bank.

Jason pulled himself back in, but the man was kicking and punching him still. As more punches caught Jason's face, he made the extreme decision to jump and take the man with him. He couldn't risk leaving the man on the train to find Joanne. Jason grabbed the man's wrist, and with a judo technique, he pulled the man out of the train with him. Immediately, Jason let go and rolled up into a ball, covering his head with his arms and spinning through the air. For the smallest of moments, as he gained the highest point of his leap, Jason seemed to hover above the tracks, as if gravity itself had paused.

Crunch!
He landed on his back in gravel. He skidded along the ground and grazed the skin off his unprotected legs and back. Once he came to a stop, he sprang to his feet and got his bearings. He ran at the moving train as fast as he could. He didn't stop to see what had happened to the man he had pulled off. His heart pounded against his chest as he forced himself to sprint faster than he ever had before.

The last carriage was the mail carriage. Jason ran toward it but found nothing he could grab hold of. Then he saw it. Right at the very end of the approaching carriage, a metal handle stuck out. Jason dived. It smacked against the palms of his hand hard, and in lightning speed, he clasped his hands tightly around the handle. He was picked up and flapping like a kite in the wind. As he dangled, he was unsure how long he could hold on for. The wind pushed his body back and made him feel heavier. He could just see the very back of the carriage. There was a metal service ladder that led to the top of the carriage.

It was too far around to grab with his other hand. He was stuck. He yelled out in anger and frustration. He turned his back to the train and curled his legs back. The train had now started to speed up again, and the wind was fighting him.

As he felt the pain and knew he had reached the last reserves of his strength, Jason managed to hook his feet around the ladder. It took the weight off his hands, but he now had to let go with his hands and try to hold on to the ladder with just his feet. He was bent around the back corner of the carriage. He didn't stop to think. He was getting tired and had to act fast. If his feet slipped, he would fall and Joanne would be gone. And at the speed the train was moving now, he could get killed. He let go and pulled himself around the edge of the carriage by using his stomach muscles. His muscles screamed in pain, but he just managed to catch the ladder with his hands. Once he had his body supported by the ladder, he could finally rest a bit.

The mail carriage had no back doors. The only way Jason could rejoin the passenger carriages was to go up and over the roof. He climbed the ladder and made it to the top of the train. The wind was stronger than he had imagined. He had to keep low.

It's not like this in the films
, he said to himself as tiny pieces of dust and grit went into his eyes and blinded him.

Tears poured from his eyes. He tried wiping them, but the tears and his dirty, grease-covered hands just made them worse—his face even dirtier. Jason crawled on all fours along the roof of the mail carriage. He had to close his eyes to prevent more dust stinging them. The railcar seemed to go on forever. Eventually, he made it to the end and was pleased to find another metal ladder at the end. He climbed down between the mail carriage and the passenger carriage. He jumped across. The last passenger carriage was the dining car.

Jason opened the door and entered. It was full of people seated at tables with white tablecloths, drinking and eating. There was a hum of chatter and soft classical music in the background. As Jason started to walk through the car, the hum of chatter got quieter and quieter until there was silence. Jason noticed that everyone stopped what they were doing and stared at him. Why, he did not know.

“Where did you come from?” a waiter asked in Spanish, looking down his nose at Jason.

“Do you have a ticket?” a train guard asked as he walked toward Jason. Everyone in the carriage was now staring at Jason. He felt the pocket of his shorts, and to his relief, he found the two tickets he had bought. He passed one to the guard. As he did, he noticed his hands and forearms. They were black with dirt and grease from the ladder. He looked down and noticed that he had blood and dirt on his shirt. His legs were dirty and cut. His shorts were ripped open down one side. He could only imagine what his face was like.

“You are traveling alone?” the guard asked.

“No, of course not. You don't think my parents would let me go on a long trip on a train alone, do you?”

“Why do you look like that? What happened?”

“I fell over.”

“You can't be on the train like that.”

“I didn't see a dress code when I bought the ticket,” Jason protested, snatching his ticket back from the startled guard. “Sorry, but I was told not to talk to strangers.”

He walked out of the dining car, and everyone's eyes followed him. Once he was in the next carriage, he started to run from carriage to carriage until he came to the first-class carriage. The exit door was still open. Jason closed it and noticed a trail of blood where he had dragged the dead body. He went to the compartment to check on Joanne. His heart sank. It was empty.

Joanne!”

“Jason, in here,” came a muffled shout. She was hiding in the fold-up bed. He opened it. She had been crying again. Her eyes were red and puffy. She climbed down and hugged him so tightly he could not breathe.

“Don't you ever leave me again! I heard a gunshot. I thought you were dead,” she said and sobbed. After recent events, he welcomed the closeness of a hug. He held his cheek close to her neck and closed his eyes. Together, they felt safe. He noticed she was trembling, and it seemed to be getting worse.

“What's wrong?” he asked. She didn't reply. She just continued to shake. He stepped back to look at her. She looked away. Was she…smirking?

“What?” he asked, bewildered and annoyed. With that, she burst out laughing, shaking her head at the same time, trying to apologize.

“Sorry,” she said, trying to stop herself from laughing.

“What is it?” he asked again, perplexed.

“You,” she said and laughed. “Just look at yourself.” She took his hand and marched outside to find a restroom. She squeezed in and pulled Jason with her. Reluctantly he followed. He looked at the image in the mirror. He saw a boy with a black face. One ear was filthy. His body was covered in brown dirt, oil, blood, and grease, and his shorts were ripped at the side all the way to the elastic waist, revealing part of his buttock. His legs were dirty, scratched, and cut. One of his eyes was black where he had tried to wipe the grit out with dirty hands. Jason smiled at first and then he seemed annoyed; however, he soon burst out laughing too. They laughed and tried as much as they could to clean him up in the small sink.

Joanne helped wash Jason's ear. The restroom on the train was not really big enough for two people. Joanne laughed at him as he complained that she was scrubbing his ear too hard with a tiny green bar of soap. She managed to wash most of the grease off him, but his torn clothing was ruined. They continued the journey in the safety of the sleeper compartment. The train stopped at Madrid briefly and set off again, eventually stopping at Zaragoza in northern Spain.

As they stepped off the train, Jason noticed several local police standing at the end of each platform. Two police officers close to Jason spoke on a radio and looked at the two young children. Jason's filthy shirt and ripped shorts stood out. He took Joanne's hand and briskly walked up the platform. The taller policeman let out a deep sigh, his lips fluttering, and started to walk cautiously toward Jason.

“Excuse me. May I have a word?” the police officer asked in Spanish.

Jason turned and smiled at the man. “Hola,” he said.

“Can you children give me your names?”

“I am Pepe. This is my girlfriend, Wen. We can't stop. We have to meet our parents outside the station,” Jason said in his best Spanish, still walking and tugging on Joanne's hand. The police officer signaled two other officers over.

“Maybe we can escort you outside,” he said, getting closer.

Jason kept moving and tried to ignore him.

“Wen, you seem a little worried. Is everything all right?” he asked Joanne.

“She does not speak Spanish. We are not supposed to talk to strangers,” Jason replied.

The officer was now next to Jason and bearing down on them. “Please stop. I need to talk to you,” he said, placing a hand on Joanne's shoulder. Jason gripped Joanne's hand tighter. “Come with us. We have been looking for you. It seems you have left a trail of dead bodies behind you. My superiors wish to question you.”

Jason stopped and looked around. On the next platform, a busy local commuter train was unloading. The platform was full of people rushing in all directions, including a large group of schoolchildren in uniform complete with hats.

“Do you trust me, Jo?” Jason asked in Chinese so the police could not understand.

She looked at him and nodded.

Jason spun around on his right foot and kicked out with his left, knocking the police officer over. He ran, pulling Joanne with him, and then jumped down onto the tracks. They ran across the tracks and climbed up the other side onto the busy platform. The policemen started shouting and blowing their whistles. He kept running into the crowd. They sprinted down the platform hand in hand, dodging the other passengers, their small size hidden by the adults. They soon reached the end of the platform. This led out onto the main train station. It was rush hour and packed with commuters. Without giving any warning, Jason pulled Joanne into the men's bathroom.

“You nearly pulled my arm out of its socket,” Joanne panted.

“
Oi!
” a schoolboy protested at the sight of Joanne in the men's toilets. Jason grabbed the boy by the face and pushed him back into a cubicle and then squeezed the boy's cheeks with his thumb and fingers.

“Jo, come in and shut the door,” Jason ordered. The boy was terrified. He was a little bigger than Jason but could see the look in Jason's eyes.

“Okay, we can do this easy or hard. I'm taking your clothes. Get undressed.” The boy shook his head. Jason grabbed his nose and twisted it. “I will not ask again. Get undressed.” The boy slowly undid his tie. Jason helped undress the boy.

“Not my pants,” the boy protested. “She is in here.” Again, Jason pulled the boy's nose.

“I don't want to hurt you, but if I have to, I will. Take everything off. You can keep your underwear.” The boy passed his clothes to his attacker. He also took his shoes and socks. “The shoes fit. We're going outside now. You stay here for five minutes. If you come out any sooner, I'll thump you. Here, put these on.” He passed the boy his own torn shorts. Jason took Joanne by the hand once more and went back outside onto the platform.

“Look, a girl your size. We need her clothes. Come on,” he said, pulling Joanne through the crowd. He smashed the glass on the fire alarm and pressed it. The alarms sounded like air raid sirens. People started screaming and running in all directions. It was chaos. When he got close to the girl, he put his arm around her.

“Quick! There's a fire, but I know a way out.” Jason said in Spanish. The shocked girl had no time to protest. She was whisked away and taken into the ladies' bathroom. Jason marched the stunned girl into a cubicle with Joanne and said, “She needs your uniform. Take it off.”

“No, let me go,” she protested.

Jason looked at Joanne. “Do something,” he said, holding the girl.

“I can't hit her,” Joanne argued.

“Neither can I. I can't hit a girl.” The Spanish schoolgirl started to fight back and dug her fingernails into Jason's arm. He grabbed the side of her neck with his right hand, dug his fingers into her main artery, which carried the blood to the brain, and squeezed. She fought back and bit his forearm, but soon, she fainted. He caught her and sat her on the toilet. “Get her clothes on.”

“If you promise not to watch.” She soon undressed the girl and slipped the uniform on herself.

They emerged from the bathroom in school uniform. They mixed into the crowd of passengers and a large group of noisy schoolchildren all trying to exit the station in panic. Nobody gave them a second glance.

Jason looked at the train they should have caught to Santander, but it was crowded with police. He noticed a train that was headed to Bordeaux in France and chose that. Using money he found in the schoolboy's pocket, he bought two tickets and boarded the train.

“You look smart in uniform. Do you have to wear a uniform at the school you go to?” Joanne asked.

“Yeah.”

“How many different languages do you speak?”

“Chinese, Japanese, Spanish, French, and I'm learning German. Have you any idea where we're heading?”

“Not a clue. Everything was in Spanish.”

“We're going to France. Probably have a problem at the border. No passports.”

“Why did you run from the police? Surely they can contact my dad or your SYUI unit.”

“I don't trust anyone. I trust SYUI but no one else. The Triads seem to know where we are all the time. They are everywhere. The only way to stay alive is to keep moving.” Jason sat back in the seat. His stomach was screaming for food and he was tired.

“I feel bad about what I did to that boy. I hate bullies and that's what I just did.”

“But he was bigger than you.”

“I know. His pants are too big and keep falling down.” Jason laughed and pulled out some chewing gum from a pocket. “That was nice of him. He left us some gum. Want some, Wen?”

• • •

A few hours later, the chief commander of SYUI got a call from the prime minister, who had spoken to the Spanish secretary of state. It was not a pleasant call.

Commander Caldwell was informed that Jason and Joanne had been sighted at Zaragoza train station but had again managed to escape. Caldwell was a tall, gray-haired man in his late fifties. He had never personally taken a liking to George and his manner, but he had been impressed with the job Young was doing at SYUI—until now.

Caldwell marched into SYUI and headed straight for Young's office. “I will be brief, George. First, I am very sorry to hear about your son. I do hope he makes a full recovery. However, we now have an international mess that is of your creation! The
prime
minister
has just told me in no uncertain terms to finish this now and stop Steed's path of bloody destruction!”

“What? The bloody Triads are doing the bleeding killing,” George protested.

“Hardly, George. The Spanish police have just found more bodies alongside a rail track. Plus, at Zaragoza main train station,
your
inside man assaulted a police officer and two children!

“The prime minister is outraged that we are behind it. What can you tell me about the Spanish farmer and his family? Did Jason kill them too? The local people want answers—and to be quite frank, so do I.”

“Jason did
not
kill the farmer and his family. We found the body of Kotang, a Triad-hired killer. Plus, the bodies of more Triads just outside the farm. My wife says they were being followed. It's a miracle that Jason has managed to keep Joanne safe. He saved my family's life!”

“Then why did he attack the Spanish police officer?”

“He doesn't trust anyone, let alone the local police. Let's face it—last time they had him and Joanne ‘safe,' they were attacked. I thought for sure he had been captured, but it seems even I have underestimated the boy.”

“We need to rein him in before any more people are killed. Can you make contact?”

“No, he has our code number and will call when it's safe to do so.”

Caldwell shook his head in disgust. “George, sorry, but I'm taking you off the operation. It's got out of hand and now my job is on the line. I'm going to send Steed's picture and passport information to all the Spanish border stations and pray for both our sakes he's apprehended. I want you to go to a safe house. You're in no condition to run things here—and
that's
an order.”