Private Oz (Private 7)

Sung whirled round, reached the Mercedes. Dai and the driver were crouching behind the car. The driver had pulled a gun, the kid looked like a puppet, cartoon eyes, limbs limp. Sung reached cover, pulled out his own weapon, a semi-automatic, Bulgarian-made Arcus 94.

Lin grabbed Dai and we all heard the gangster yell out.

“Hold your fire,” Yender’s voice boomed through the speakers.

On the screen, I could see the fragmented image of Lin Sung rising slowly from a crouching position. He had the semi-automatic at Dai’s temple. The driver shuffled away, slipping behind a hulking lump of rusting plant machinery. Then Ho Meng stood up slowly, apparently unharmed. He started to walk toward his son.

“Let the boy go,” he yelled.

Lin Sung ignored him, took a step forward, opened the driver’s door with one hand and simultaneously shoved Dai inside the Merc as he slid in beside him. They disappeared from view behind the tinted windows.

Ho reached the car but was forced back as it roared away. The cops had their machine guns raised, jumping aside as Lin accelerated toward them. The car skidded on the uneven floor, drifted for a second, tires screaming. Lin got it under control and slammed his foot to the floor.

I didn’t wait another second, slid open the door of the surveillance vehicle and ran across the gravel to my Ferrari, hitting the remote as I went.

Chapter 91

I SPUN THE car backwards on the gravel, turned into a pitted lane beside the warehouse and shot away.

I couldn’t see the Merc, but I knew Lin had gone this way, it was the only route to the perimeter fence. Careering round a bend-topping sixty, I hit a yard-wide hole in the tarmac, bounced out, the suspension stretched to breaking point. I almost lost grip on the road as the rear end came out, just pulled it back.

The entrance to the freeway lay fifty yards ahead and I caught a glimpse of Lin’s car as it shot through the gates and accelerated up a slip road. I dodged another pothole, swung left, then a hard right, opened up the engine and tore onto the M5, headed west.

The Merc was quick but my Spider was quicker, and driven by someone in my state of mind it was fantastically fast. If Lin wasn’t aware of the stats, they were impressed upon him when I started to gain on his car, halving the distance between us in less than thirty seconds. The M5 freeway was almost deserted and I had the Merc in my sights only twenty-five yards ahead. The speedometer read a hundred and twenty.

Lin took the next junction, screaming onto Rocky Point Road toward Rockdale. It was a smart move, a slower road, more chance of urban traffic, plenty of turn-offs. It leveled the playing field … some.

At 1.15 am the street was pretty much empty of traffic. Lin pulled the Merc off the dual carriageway into a side street, took it wide and almost hit an oncoming car. I screeched after him, missing the other car by an inch.

It was a narrow suburban street, rows of modest houses, parked cars to the left. Lin jumped the lights. I slowed and checked, followed him over the junction. He took a right, a left. More residential roads, a church, a grocery store. I caught a sign for a sports field and glimpsed a line of trees.

Lin left it to the last second, roared into a narrow lane just before the park. I braked and flew round the corner.

The Mercedes had disappeared from view. Then I realized I’d shot straight past it. Lin had taken a hard right off the road and pulled up onto a rutted track at the edge of the field.

I reversed and caught movement in the rear-view mirror. The gangster was out of his car, gun in hand and rushing round to the passenger door. He yanked it open, dragging Dai to the ground.

I stopped, slipped out, kept low. The Merc was ten yards away. Lin was pulling Dai up, the barrel of his gun at the kid’s temple.

I was in the shadows, but Lin knew exactly where. He could have taken a pop at me, but then he risked losing Dai. “Stop,” he shouted into the night, “or I’ll kill him.”

I pulled back and crept behind a line of bushes. I knew he wasn’t sure where I was now. I moved fast. Lin and the boy dropped out of view for a few seconds, then I found an opening in the bushes and saw they hadn’t moved.

I picked up a stone, tossed it to my left. Lin whirled round. He had his free arm around Dai’s throat.

“Stop the stupid games,” Lin said, an edge to his voice now. I was getting to him.

I moved hard round to his right and could see the back of his neck wet with perspiration. Leveled my gun to his head.

“Let him go.”

Lin spun round.

“Let. Him. Go.”

“No!”

Some instinct told me I’d pushed him too far. I fired and his gun went off simultaneously. Lin flew backwards, the hood of his car breaking his fall, a cloud of red exploding from his head. Dai jolted, screamed and collapsed to the ground.