The Gilgamesh Conspiracy (36 page)

‘Do you need a hand there?’ a female voice called out in a clearly enunciated English accent. Dan whirled round with consternation and a happy smile fighting for control of his expression. There was Gerry standing there alone with one hand on her hip and the other clutching a set of car keys. He could not hear the sound of voices calling out orders; the clicking of weapons being armed and there was no sign of a SWAT team encircling his position. Just Gerry, standing straight and tall with a half-smile playing on her lovely sun-tanned face.

‘It’s good to see you Gerry,’ he said, dropping his guard but then looking warily around. ‘But how the hell did you find me?’ Instantly she looked alert and gazed around.

‘You told Richard Cornwall where you were. He told me I would find you here.’

‘Richard Cornwall...Who’s he?’

They stared at one another; both astonished and instantly worried.

Then they heard a helicopter approaching overhead. It was no more than two hundred feet up and they could feel the downdraught from the rotor as it drew to a hover overhead. The two of them stared up at it and saw the word police written large on the underside.

‘Shit!’ Gerry shouted above the noise, ‘I suspect that someone else has picked up the trail.’

‘I think it’s time to leave.’

‘That helicopter will trail us!’

‘Then let’s get rid of it.’ He opened the door to the RV and disappeared inside. Ten seconds later he emerged carrying an M79 grenade launcher. He held it high for a moment and then crouched down and aimed it towards the police helicopter.

‘Jesus H Christ he’s got a thump gun!’ Vince Parker shouted at the helicopter pilot. ‘Get us the hell out of here!’

The young pilot pulled the chopper into a high climbing turn and waited twenty seconds before asking his question. ‘What’s a thump gun?’

‘A grenade launcher; it can blow this helicopter apart,’ Parker replied.

‘So we’re not going back there, right?’

‘No. Just give me a minute…let’s see; can you put me down in the roadway at the park entrance?’

‘Well the road’s not very wide…but yeah, that should be ok.’

‘Then let’s take a wide circuit behind that hill and then bring it down below tree level,’ Parker suggested.

‘Hey! Like in the movies!’ the pilot agreed with enthusiasm.

‘If you like,’ said Parker, ‘but we’re the good guys so let’s be careful, alright.’

‘Ok, it’s your call.’

He lifted the chopper up and flew close to the ground until the camp site had disappeared from view and then picked up the trail around.

‘Are you sure they won’t hear us?’ the pilot called.

‘They might,’ Parker admitted, ‘but I don’t think they’ll be able to tell we’re we are. Is that the road back to their van?’

‘That’s it.’

‘Ok, put me down and then fly back and find the other guys; tell them to drive here.’

‘What are you going to do?’

Parker grinned and patted his M40 sniper rifle. ‘I’m going to herd them.’

Parker watched the helicopter disappear back behind the hill and then jogged along as quickly as he could while encumbered with the rifle until the camp site came into view. He crouched behind a tree and then took careful aim at the RV’s front wheel. The tyre deflated with a bang and the vehicle lurched over. Hall and Tate jerked round towards the sound of his rifle.

‘Ok I’ve got the two of you covered,’ he began to say, but Gerry Tate sprinted towards the woods beyond the Winnebago. He cursed and squeezed off two shots in quick succession. Oh hell, this was not going according to plan. A movement caught his eye and he saw a flash of blue amongst the trees. It was Tate running quickly through the trees. Towards him. He swung the rifle round and fired a shot. He cursed and suddenly realised that the bolt action rifle was a poor weapon against a quickly moving target, but soon she would slow down and try and stay under cover as she approached him. Then he realised she wasn’t slowing down; she was running towards him at full speed, leaping over tree roots and low scrub and ignoring the branches that whipped across her body. He aimed, fired and missed. He worked the clumsy bolt action as fast he could and fired again. Now she was too close and he could see the blood on her face where she had been cut by a tree branch and he could also see her face was contorted by hate and anger and she was nearly upon him and he worked the bolt action then tried to club her with the rifle just as she launched herself at him in a full on football tackle that knocked him flying. She rolled off him and he scrambled to his feet but not as quickly as she did. She backed off and checked that the rifle was out of his reach. He watched her clench her fists and rub her thumbs over her knuckles.

She was the same height as he was, or maybe slightly taller, but still she was a woman and however physically well developed, she was  thirty pounds lighter than he was and not as strong.

‘So what are you going to do now Gerry?’ he grinned.

‘I’m going to beat the living crap out of you, you bastard.’

He watched her carefully, expecting her to run and try to drop kick him or trip him so as not to trade blows with him at close range, but she just walked quickly toward him and threw a punch at his face which he parried easily, but then her other hand jabbed towards him and he just managed to fend off a blow to his abdomen. He aimed his own fist towards her face but she fended it off and then connected a blow to his head that knocked him off balance swung round and kicked him in the back and he grunted in pain and fell to one knee. He suddenly realised that her speed and quickness of movement were entirely beyond his measure. He pushed himself upright and tried to close and wrestle her down to the ground but she quickly moved back but then she caught her heel on a tree root and tumbled over. He fell on top of her with the full weight of his body and prepared to drive his fist into her face but he felt an excruciating flash of pain to the back of his head.

Parker woke up face down with his arms bound behind his back and his legs tied to the back of the pick-up truck. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to overcome the throbbing pain in his head. Shit, what a bloody mess he was in, but surely Samms would be here soon. They hadn’t killed him yet, so maybe he would survive long enough to be rescued.

‘He’s awake,’ he heard someone say. Standing with Dan Hall and Gerry Tate was an old man with tanned face and full beard and mirrored sunglasses. ‘Seems I didn’t hit him hard enough, this friend of yours.’

‘Ok, let’s find out if he’s acting alone or expecting back-up,’ said Gerry. She pointed to the hunting knife in Dan Hall’s belt. ‘Lend me that, would you?’

Shit, what was she going to do with that? Hall handed it over without a word and then she knelt on his back and wrenched his arms up until he gasped from the pain.

‘Ok Vince, tell us how you came to be here or else I’ll have to start cutting off your fingers. Here’s the first one, just so you know I’m serious.’ She scored the side of his little finger with the serrated top of the knife blade. He screamed. ‘Ok, now you’re going to eat it!’ She prodded the side of his mouth with her own little finger. He gagged and turned his face away.

‘Come on Vince! Open your mouth!’ He pressed his face against the ground. ‘Ok so you don’t like that one. Let’s try another finger.’ She caught hold of his ring finger and scored it with the blade.

‘No I’ll talk! I’ll talk!’

‘Yeah I know you will you bastard,’ she snarled into his ear, ‘but one more finger first!’

‘No!’ he screamed as she jabbed his middle finger with the blade.

‘Ok tell us what back up you have and you won’t have to lose this one,’ she said.

‘Neil Samms is coming in a few minutes. He’s got the local police with him. You won’t get past.’

‘Oh…right. You mean they’re going to set up a road block? Where? Where the camp trail join’s the main road?’

‘Yeah, that’s it.’

‘Are you sure? I’ll cut your dick off if you’re lying to me.’

‘No I’m not lying!’

‘Alright then. I’m going to cut the rope from your hands.’

He felt the vibration as the ropes as she sawed through the rope and reluctantly he inspected his hand. He was amazed to discover that although his fingers had deep gashes and were dripping blood his hand remained intact. Relief was mixed up with fury. ‘You fucking bitch! I’ll kill you!’

She took out her gun and aimed between his eyes. ‘That sounded like a serious threat,’ she said.

‘Hey, wait Gerry!’ Hall called out urgently. ‘Don’t do it…you’re better than he is.’

She glanced towards him, back at Parker and then she replaced the gun in her pocket. She turned towards the old hippy. ‘Can we buy your motorbike off you?’

‘Hey, it’s not worth that much. Say I’ll trade it for that white Chevy of yours if you like.’

‘That’s not mine. It’s a rental,’ Gerry explained.

‘Aw they won’t miss it for a while. I’ll trade it for another bike.’

‘That’s illegal.’

The old man stared at her. ‘That coming from you, you’ve gotta be kidding me right. Hey, can I keep the guy’s rifle?’

‘Be my guest,’ she replied.

Neil Samms nodded in approval at the senior Police officer. The cars were arranged so that the Winnebago would be unable to drive out the camp site and all the patrolmen were armed with rifles and clearly knew how to use them. Where was the Englishman? He said he would meet them here. He took out his cell phone. ‘Vince, hi. Sorry it’s taken a while but we’re in position. Where are you now?’

‘He’s tied to the RV,’ said a female voice from the phone with a distinctive English accent. ‘When you cut the ropes, or open the doors, the bomb explodes.’

‘What in tarnation…?’ said the sergeant standing beside Samms, nudging his elbow and offering him a pair of binoculars. Samms peered through them and in the distance saw a Winnebago with a man spread-eagled across the front. He was standing precariously on the front fender to which his legs were tied and his arms were secured by ropes that lead through the front cab windows. He recognised the anguished face of Vince Parker.

‘Godammit, there’s no bomb, they haven’t had time!’ Samms insisted.

‘Whoa there,’ said the police officer, grabbing his arm. ‘We’re not taking any chances, after the way you described those fugitives. We’ll wait for a bomb disposal team before we go forwards.’

‘Fuck, fuck, fuck!’ bellowed Samms.

Despite any number of dangerous activities she had undertaken in her professional life, Gerry considered riding pillion to Dan Hall on the Harley Davidson at high speed through the forest trails as one of her riskier moves. At her insistence Dan was wearing the old man’s crash helmet to protect his face from the branches while she clung on to his back and kept her head down as best she could. Eventually they found the main road which lead from Grand Teton into Yellowstone Park, but as they headed up the road Gerry heard a helicopter.

‘They could be looking for us; maybe we should turn off the road until it gets dark,’ Dan shouted.

The helicopter pulled up and disappeared over the tree tops. ‘Maybe just a routine patrol…oh shit!’

Nearly at ground level the helicopter came round a bend in the road and they saw bright flashes and heard the noise of a machine gun through the roar of the engine and the beat of the rotor. Dan turned the bike off the road and headed for a gap in the trees. A small ditch caught the front wheel but he managed to wrestle the heavy bike upright. The ground under the tall pine trees was uneven and laced with roots but he managed to keep up a speed of about twenty miles per hour as he zigzagged between the trees. Gerry glanced back and saw two men climb out of the helicopter armed with hunting rifles. A few moments later she heard four shots fired in quick succession but heard no sound of the bullets’ passage. They crested the top of a rise and Dan guided the bike down the slope. Gerry heard the sound of the helicopter now passing overhead and wondered if they had infra-red scanners on board. ‘Stop a minute!’ she yelled to Dan.

He brought the bike to a halt under a tree and turned off the engine. ‘Why what’s wrong?’

‘They’ve much less chance of seeing us if we keep still,’ she explained. Then he too heard the chopper and they stared up as it flew aimlessly back and forth for a few minutes before finally banking away and disappearing from sight, the noise of its rotors fading away.

‘We’d better stick to the woods until nightfall,’ Dan suggested. He started the bike and they rode down the hill. ‘Do you know which way we’re heading?’ Gerry asked.

‘I’m keeping the sun behind my left shoulder as much as possible,’ he said, ‘then…’. The bike suddenly lurched down into a hole and slewed sideways. Gerry tumbled clear and rolled over until her back thudded against a tree trunk driving the air from her lungs and for a moment she struggled to catch her breath. She turned round when she heard Dan gasping with pain and saw him struggling to lift the motor bike from on top of his trapped leg. She jumped to her feet and managed to tug it upright for long enough for him to scramble clear.

‘Ok how bad is it?’ she asked kneeling beside him.

Slowly and carefully he twisted his foot around, gasped and lay back on the ground breathing deeply. ‘Not broken, I don’t think. I’ll take my boot off and take a peek.’

‘Better not,’ said Gerry. ‘If it swells up you might not get it back on. Here, let me have a look.’ She carefully moved his ankle joint through a full range of movement and then pressed against the ligaments. He gasped a little as she pressed on his outer ankle bone.

‘It’s definitely not broken, nor even badly sprained. I think you’ve just bruised the outside of the joint badly. You might even have cracked the bone a little. I’ll ride the bike now.’

‘No chance; look at the front.’ The front tyre had burst and slewed off the wheel.

‘Oh crap,’ said Gerry. ‘Well to coin a phrase, on your feet soldier!’ She smiled and held out a hand and he carefully stood up and took a few careful paces. ‘Hey that’s not too bad. How are you though?’

‘My back hurts where I hit the tree. The rucksack absorbed most of the impact.’

‘The bottles did anyway. Water’s dripping out.’

She took off the pack and extracted two split plastic bottles. She suddenly shivered at the memory of being trapped on the life raft with nothing but a couple of water bottles and she began to tremble violently and she suddenly grabbed hold of Dan and clung on to him in desperate fear. Then to her intense embarrassment she suddenly started to weep uncontrollably.

‘Hey, we’re alright,’ he said soothingly and gave her a hug, inadvertently pressing on her bruised back.

‘Ow, you clumsy ox!’ She writhed and pushed him away. He looked at her with an expression of bewilderment, which quickly gave way to resentment. Damn it! Time to soothe his bruised male ego.