Deja vu. Or so it seemed for Jay. Another psychopath using his father to get to him. Or, this time, was it using Jay to get to his father? He closed his eyes for a moment and shook his head. Not possible. His father, as the head of Australia’s secret intelligence agency, would already be all over Carter. Tracking him with the help of the CIA and all of the nation’s policing authorities. But they should have been tracking him after the meeting at the farm. That was their intent. Yet Carter was confident enough to cruise the streets with armed guards and even pop into the opera, maintaining a public profile.
Carter must have sensed what Jay was thinking and he said, ‘Wondering why your father has eliminated me as a suspect?’
Jay didn’t respond and kept his eyes shut. Carter would tell him. His ego couldn’t help it.
‘Seems your father’s focus shifted towards the dearly departed Major Sergeant as the real brains behind this whole anthrax thing. A few soldiers from the scientist’s rogue element broke ranks and came forward with the story of the real mastermind. Also turns out that Sergeant originally purchased all three of those patents we’ve been talking about. It wasn’t until recently that I purchased one from him – just after the first outbreak, like all good entrepreneurs would.’
Jay did all he could to stay calm. His pulse had increased and his breathing had become heavier.
Carter continued. ‘Why, just this afternoon I opened my home to a truckload of federal agents, who combed through it top to bottom. Of course, there was nothing out of the ordinary to be found. I even volunteered to an interview tomorrow morning.’
Jay opened his eyes and said, ‘You honestly think they’re stupid enough not to keep track of your whereabouts anyway?’
‘If so, why weren’t you rescued while I was enjoying the wonderful production of Rigoletto?’
Good point, Jay thought, but didn’t say.
Carter continued. ‘Well ... to be honest, I was being followed for a short time this afternoon. That was until those rogue soldiers indicated that a considerable number of their colleagues were hunting you. Seems your father pulled out all stops when he heard the news. Police, military and spy agency personnel have descended on Byron Bay in the race to get to you first. Plus, I’m certain your father will lead the charge in hunting the head of this elaborate evil plot.’
‘Sergeant?’
A nod. ‘When they get to his apartment, they’ll no doubt find detailed plans, maps, receipts, photos, even traces of anthrax, and all of the right evidence required to implicate him.’
‘Planted, you mean.’
‘Maybe so. But that’s the beauty of our incompetent policing and intelligence agencies; they’ll accept the evidence as they see it and pass on all of the glory to their masters for a very public showing.’
Jay shook his head. ‘Too many loose ends, Carter. It’s too big, and far too complicated, to go on unnoticed. Sooner or later it’ll all catch up with you.’
‘I doubt it. By this time tomorrow the public will be buying my products by the truck load.’
We’ll see, Jay thought. He peered back out of the window and noted the distance between houses growing as they hit the outer suburbs. A road sign indicated they were approaching Samford, an outer northern suburb. An area known for peace and tranquillity with a price tag to accommodate the privacy of one with plenty of cash.
The vehicle meandered over undulating tree-lined roads and through the semi-rural suburb. Jay started putting some serious thought into an escape. He pulled at the plastic ties; testing how far his hands could reach towards the razor in his pocket. Belt loop was about as far as he was willing to test with the Maori looking on. Didn’t seem he had much more reach anyway.
‘I’m looking forward to using my interrogation skills up against your resistance to interrogation skills,’ Carter said.
‘You don’t have any interrogation skills. You use torture as a means to get unreliable information. Totally different skillsets. Anyone can torture.’
‘So, in your opinion then, not everyone can interrogate using your outdated methods.’
‘Proven methods.’
‘Torture’s been proven over time.’
‘No it hasn’t. At least you’re admitting that’s what you do.’
‘How long do you think you’re good for against a pair of pliers, crowbar and a hunting knife?’
‘Depends which one I get. If it’s just you, I’ll take the pliers. I doubt you’re any good with a knife and the crowbar’s probably a little heavy for those wafer-arms.’
Carter seemed dumbstruck that Jay would answer in such a way considering the predicament. He took a moment before giving a snort and saying, ‘I’m going to use the pliers to hold your eyelids up while I slice them off. Then you’ll be able to watch every swing of the crowbar as I start with the lower half of your body and smash every bone. I’ll keep you conscious long enough to witness me starting to peel layer upon layer of flesh from your bones.’
‘Never were that imaginative or original, were you, Carter?’
‘What?’
‘All you need now is a couple of AK-47s and a video camera and a shitload of troops will stop checking caves in Afghanistan for you once they know you’re here.’
Carter took the comparison to Bin Laden well, or maybe he didn’t know how to respond to such a comment. Jay half-expected another lunge from the Maori. Thankfully, it didn’t happen. Jay figured Carter was imagining the interrogation process. Maybe rethinking how he would kill Jay.
Jay turned his attention back to the window. As they descended down a gentle incline, the large iron-barks on Jay’s side seemed to come alive as a vehicle to the rear shone its headlights over them, causing eerie shadows to dance amongst the trees. The dance continued and jumped ahead as the car approached to overtake. Although there was nothing illegal about the manoeuvre, Jay had an uneasy feeling forming in his stomach. He gave a quick glance to the Maori, who had been staring at the headlights before quickly bringing his attention back to Jay.
The make of the overtaking vehicle was difficult to gauge as it crept up alongside. A dark sedan perhaps. Jay couldn’t see beyond the windows, until the rear window wound down and the barrel of a shotgun poked out.
Jay threw himself to the floor between the seats as a blast ripped into the interior of the car. They didn’t come to a screeching halt. Only decelerated. Meaning the driver took the full brunt of the shotgun blast before he had a chance to react. The Maori with the weapon had taken a hit, judging from the moaning coming from the front seat. Carter finally reacted by thumping down on top of Jay.
Even though they were slowing, with the thick terrain they were travelling through, Jay knew the only thing that would stop them would be the trunk of an iron-bark – if they were lucky. Should they miss one of the thick trees, the journey over the edge of the steep risers was one he didn’t want to contemplate.
The screams of metal on metal accompanied a jolt that bounced Carter and took the wind from Jay. The overtaking vehicle hadn’t finished with them yet. Jay struggled for breath as the silence of bitumen gave way to the sound of rubber on gravel. He tucked his chin to his chest. The passenger side of the car crinkled as it slid along a tree. Shit! They’d missed the iron bark.
Foliage ripped at the undercarriage. Carter continued to bounce on Jay, who hadn’t got the chance to get his breath back. Probably didn’t matter as he would have held onto it anyway.
The engine revved hard when they became airborne. Although his life didn’t flash before his eyes, Jay couldn’t help but think of the irony. At least with a car crash and the possibility of two dead Maoris, he had a chance of escape. Assuming he survived the crash.