Sharp Shot

Rich stared open mouthed. He knew the man. He’d been looking at his picture just now. He might be twenty years older, his sandy hair going grey, but it was obviously one of the men from the photograph taken in Iraq.

“Chance!” the man gasped. “Looking for John Chance. He’s the only person who can help me now.” The man collapsed to his knees, then toppled forwards to fall motionless at Rich’s feet.

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“He’s still breathing,” said Jade, kneeling to examine the man. She felt his pulse, and it was strong if a bit fast. Then again, Jade wasn’t really sure what was normal.

“He’s in that picture,” said Rich. “One of Dad’s friends from the army. The SAS.” He turned out the lights.

“Hey, what did you do that for?” Jade demanded.

“If there’s someone else out there with a gun, we don’t want them finding us too easily.”

The man was coming round. He blinked and shook his head, pulling himself into a sitting position.

“Hey, steady,” said Jade. “Rich—get him some water.”

Rich hurried to the kitchen and was straight back with a tumbler of tap water. The man accepted it gratefully, though he spilled quite a bit down his muddy shirt. He was shivering despite the fact it was a mild evening, and he was wearing a heavy leather jacket.

“John Chance,” he gasped again. “Got to get to John Chance.”

Jade nodded. “He’s not here. He’s away.” She glanced at Rich, before adding: “Can we help? I’m Jade and this is Rich— John’s our dad.”

“Away?” The man looked annoyed as much as frightened. “Why didn’t I know?”

“Probably because he’s on a secret mission,” Rich muttered. “No one is supposed to know.”

Jade glared at him. This wasn’t the time for criticism. “Can we help?” she asked the man again. “What’s the matter? We heard shooting—is someone after you?”

“They’ll kill me,” the man said. He looked nervously over to the doors. The patio was still lit up by the security light; the door was swinging back and forth in the breeze, its catch broken. “If they find me, they’ll kill me. I thought Chance would help. I have to get away from them.” He grabbed the sleeve of Jade’s sweatshirt. “You have to help me. Get me away from here.”

There was a rattle of machine gun fire from somewhere outside— closer than before. Rich hurried to the windows and looked out.

“Can’t see anyone, but we have to assume they’ll find us. Were they close behind you?”

The man shook his head. “But they’ll be here. We have to go. Now!”

Rich nodded. But to Jade’s surprise he opened the desk, and hunted through for a photograph.

“This isn’t a Kodak moment,” she told him. “It’s a get the hell out of here moment.”

Rich had found what he was looking for. It was a faded photo of four men standing by a wall in the desert. He pointed to one of the men.

“That’s Dad. And that’s Dex Halford…And that…” He tapped the man standing beside their dad, then pointed to the man sitting on the floor.

Jade took the photo and held it so the man could see. “So, are you Mark or Ferdy?”

The man blinked. “McCain—Ferdy McCain. That was in Iraq, back in 1990 with the Regiment. We took out a secret nuclear facility.”

“Hey, cool,” said Rich.

“Yeah, OK—in that case you really are a friend of Dad’s,” said Jade. She gave the photo back to Rich who stuffed it in his pocket. The she helped Ferdy McCain to his feet. “Now, let’s get you out of here and call for help.”

“Got my phone,” said Rich. “We’ll do it on the way.”

Outside, the security light had gone out. With the lights in the room turned out too, they could see out into the gloom of the garden. Jade was sure she could see movement, down by the fence. “Time to go,” she said urgently.

“I’ll be all right,” McCain assured them. “I’ve been through worse. Just tired.”

Rich led the way out of the dining room and into the hall. The front door had a frosted window set high in it. Through the glass they could see the silhouette of a man’s head and shoulders.

The sound of the doorbell was deafeningly loud, and made Jade flinch.

“Gunmen,” Rich hissed.

“Who ring the bell?” said Jade. “Yeah, right.”

“You’re not going to answer it?”

Jade didn’t reply. She marched down the hallway and opened the front door. Outside was a man in uniform. He turned towards them and smiled.

“Supermarket delivery. From our shop to your step, guaranteed.” His uniform was bright green and he was holding a clipboard. “We didn’t have any concentrated vita-mineral supplement drink, I’m afraid.”

From the dining room came the sound of breaking glass followed by a shout.

“Don’t think we’ll be needing it,” Jade told the man, and pushed him out of the way.

“Healthy exercise coming up,” Rich agreed, as he and McCain ran past.

The supermarket lorry was almost blocking the narrow lane. The delivery man wouldn’t be so happy, Jade thought, when he found out he had to back nearly a quarter of a mile before he could turn it round. Quarter of a mile to the main road through the village.

A quarter of a mile they were never going to make. A car was coming. Its lights raked across the hedges either side of the lane as it slewed along having taken the corner too fast. The roar of its engine was louder than the idling of the lorry.

“Not going that way,” said Jade.

“What’s going on?” the delivery man called. His voice was drowned out by the sound of gunfire from inside the cottage. The dining room window overlooking the lane exploded. Bullets ripped into the tarmac close to where Jade and Rich were standing.

McCain was already running. “Come on!” he yelled, hauling himself up into the cab of the lorry.

“Hey!” the delivery man yelled, running after them.

Jade and Rich were round the other side of the lorry, pulling themselves up into the cab as it started to move off.

“You driven one of these before?” Rich asked as he sat in the middle of the wide bench seat. Next to him, Jade heaved the door shut.

“Not with a freezer compartment stuck on the back,” McCain told him. The lorry was picking up speed. The lights from the car behind were approaching rapidly, dazzling in the mirror.

There was a loud bump from the back of the lorry. Jade could see in the wing mirror that plastic crates were falling out of the back, scattering across the road.