First Strike. Justin Richards
the woman as she fell. She helped her get her balance and picked up her crutch.
“Thank you,” the old woman spluttered nervously.
“No problem,” Jade told her. “Got to dash.”
Through the main doors. Jade skidded to a halt in the glare of the floodlights that illuminated the front of the hospital. A car park stretched away into shadows. Two paramedics were lifting a wheeled stretcher out of the back of an ambulance; its blue lights still flashing. There was no sign of Colonel Shu.
Then the ambulance began to pull away, its back doors flapping. One caught a paramedic on the shoulder as the ambulance moved. He gave a startled yell.
“Who’s driving?” the other paramedic shouted in surprise.
Then both were leaping aside, pulling the stretcher out of the way as a car screeched up where the ambulance had just been. It was a silver-grey BMW. The passenger window was open. Through it, Jade could see her dad at the wheel.
Jade wrenched open the door and threw herself into the car.
“Which way?” Chance asked.
Jade pointed. “Follow that ambulance!”
Ralph seemed to be unconscious again. He’d given Rich the fright of his life when he sat up and grabbed Rich’s arm.
Then the nurses had arrived and sorted out the drips and equipment with an urgent efficiency. Rich left them to it, turning on his mobile phone and calling Chance to warn him about Colonel Shu and tell him Jade was in pursuit.
When he returned to the room, the nurses had finished and a doctor was checking Ralph’s vital signs.
“No serious harm done,” he assured Rich. “Lucky we weren’t a few minutes later, though.”
The plain-clothes policeman was slumped in a chair while a nurse dabbed at his bruised head.
Rich cleared up the flowers scattered across the bed, and a nurse gave him a dustpan so he could sweep up the glass. No one said anything, but he got the impression they were more annoyed with him and Jade for making a mess than the woman who had tried to murder their patient.
When he was done, and the policeman had staggered off to make his report, Rich sat down in the visitor’s chair beside the bed.
It took him several moments to realise that Ralph’s eyes were wide open, and he was looking straight at Rich.
“You’re awake,” said Rich, startled. “You’re OK. I’ll get someone.”
Ralph’s expression didn’t change. His eyes were wide and unfocused.
“You are OK?” said Rich. He waved his hand in front of Ralph’s face. There was no change. Nothing to indicate that Ralph even knew he was there. Until Ralph spoke.
“Flown…” His voice was hoarse and quiet. Rich leaned closer to hear. “Sorry? What do you mean?”
Ralph blinked. His face creased into a frown. Suddenly he was staring right at Rich—really staring at him, focused and alert.
“Tell your father. Tell Ardman.” Every word seemed forced out of him.
“Tell them what? That you’re awake?”
“If the birds have flown, they will try for the Football.” Ralph took a rasping breath of air. “That is what they are planning,” he gasped.
Then he slumped back, and his eyes closed.
The heart monitor bleeped forlornly as Ralph slept and Rich wondered what he could have meant.
With its back doors still banging and blue lights flashing as it raced through the evening traffic, the ambulance was easy to follow. Until Colonel Shu realised she was being chased and turned off the emergency lights.
Traffic was moving slowly through the busy town centre. As soon as the ambulance lights went off, Chance put his hand on the horn and his foot on the accelerator. He swung the powerful BMW on to the pavement, sending people scattering. Half on the road, half on the pavement, the car roared towards the ambulance making slow progress further ahead.
But before they reached it, the ambulance lights came on again. The siren cut through the evening, and traffic pulled over to let the ambulance through.
The BMW followed in its wake—cutting through the gaps in the traffic before the vehicles had time to move back into the middle of the road.
Jade closed her eyes as they sped through a red light. A car that had braked hard for the ambulance had to do so again. The car behind it slammed into the rear and both cars slewed across the junction. Chance swerved round them, and carried on as if nothing had happened. From behind came the sound of more breaking glass.
Then the sound of more sirens.
“Police,” said Chance, glancing in the rear-view mirror. “Just what we don’t need.”
He slammed the car down a gear to get more power as they raced uphill, along a narrow side street. In front of them the ambulance was spilling equipment and supplies out of its back doors. A car coming the other way caught a glancing blow and spun off on to the pavement, then scraped down the wall of an office block.
The ambulance turned out of the street on to another main road—a dual carriageway. Without hesitation, Chance followed.
“Wrong way!” Jade yelled as the traffic veered off in all directions like the current of a river flowing round a rock.
A huge container lorry was sounding its horn. The ambulance sirens were wailing. The lorry swung across into another lane as it headed towards the ambulance. But the ambulance moved the same way as Colonel Shu tried to avoid the lorry.
The two vehicles collided head-on. The front of the lorry shot up into the air, then crashed down. It landed half across the font of the ambulance. The back of the lorry tilted, the weight of the container dragging it over on to its side.
Chance grabbed the handbrake and the BMW slid sideways, skidding to a halt right in front of the lorry now sliding sideways towards it.
Jade threw her hands up in front of her face.
Chance rammed the car into gear. The tyres spun, then gripped.
The BMW shot across the road, out of the way of the sliding lorry.
Even before it had stopped, Chance had the door open and was out, running for the half-crushed ambulance. Vehicles skidded to a halt. A police car screeched up beside the ambulance. Uniformed men leaped out and ran to intercept Chance, but he shook them off, and kept running.
By the time Jade got to the ambulance, Chance was waving his identity card at the police and shouting at them to organise a search and close off the area.
The ambulance was empty. Colonel Shu had escaped.
“The local police are not terribly happy,” Ardman said.
John Chance and the twins were sitting in Ardman’s London office the next morning.
“What are they complaining about?” Rich asked.
Ardman raised an eyebrow. “Well, there’s the fact that someone was shot in a restaurant by a renegade Chinese war criminal.”
“Oh, right.”
“And one of their men was later knocked unconscious by the same renegade war criminal.”
“I get the point,” said Rich quickly.
But Ardman hadn’t finished. He checked a sheet of paper in front of him. “Fourteen cars damaged. A container lorry written off and its cargo destroyed. Television sets apparently. Out of 412 TVs, three survived the crash. Then there’s the ambulance. And the hospital equipment Colonel Shu sabotaged. Various driving offences we have told them to drop—including speeding, and going the wrong way down a major dual carriageway. Damage to crash barriers. An old lady who