Jay took the ramp leading to the train station concourse, overtaking three kids who shared an obsession with black clothing and facial piercing.
He reached a newsstand at the end of the concourse and browsed through a selection of cheap thriller novels. The plots weren't far from his own life, he thought wryly. A scan over the area didn't register anything out of the ordinary; just the usual mix of partygoers, the homeless and emotionally charged teens roaming the area.
Still scanning, he edged his way along the front of the newsstand. As he pretended to browse a magazine, he found what he was looking for. Halfway along the concourse and across from the train ticketing office stood a dozen blue lockers stacked three high and four wide. He took another look around, placed the magazine down and made his way to the lockers. After more precautionary glances, he found locker G7, moved to the centre console and followed the prompts to open it.
As he moved toward the locker, a high-pitched scream burned his ears. He went down on his knees and spun his head toward the sound, ready to pounce. A teenage girl less than two metres from him ran toward another. The second girl shrieked back her hello and they hugged. He felt like a goose. Nerves shot again, he ran his hand through his hair and shook his head. The ache in his ribs reminded him of the Primrose beating as he stood. The screaming died down to a dull giggling and Jay turned his attention to the locker. He pressed a flashing button and the door clicked open.
When he peered inside, four smiling faces in bright skivvy shirts greeted him – a Wiggles backpack. It seemed the weapons dealer either had a sense of humour or was simply an arsehole. He removed the cash from his gift bag and placed it in the backpack, then he closed the locker and headed for the hotel. Several stares from commuters confirmed that he looked like a schoolyard bully who'd pinched another kid's backpack.
As he hit the ramp at the end of the concourse, the inevitable taunts came his way. 'Hey, dickhead. Don't you think you're a bit old for the Wiggles?' The question came from a group of five youths with battered clothes, shaved heads and facial rings. They laughed in chorus.
With the newfound confidence of having the weapons at hand, Jay couldn't resist flipping the youths a comment after he passed. 'Don't you think you lot are the wrong gender for facial jewellery? A little makeup wouldn't go astray though.'
A tirade of obscenities followed as Jay crossed the street. He allowed himself a wry smile.
The concierge tilted his head and gave a quizzical look as Jay climbed the steps to the Rendezvous Hotel and entered the lobby.
Jay felt an explanation was in order. 'My boy left his backpack on the train today. Lucky someone handed it in,' he said.
'Very fortunate, sir.' The comment was tinged with just the slightest hint of sarcasm.
Jay started to move off and had a thought. He turned back. 'Unfortunately, both my and my wife's mobile phones were in the backpack. My son likes to answer our phones so he carries them for us.' A reasonable excuse at short notice.
The concierge wasn't convinced. 'I assume that they were not with the backpack when you retrieved it, sir.'
Jay nodded, 'That's right.'
'And you would like to know where you can get replacements at this time of night?'
Bingo. Jay smiled.
The concierge glanced sideways. 'Two mobile phones, one hundred dollar limit will cost three hundred.'
'Nice little profit. If you have the phones delivered within the hour you can write up a four hundred dollar tip to yourself on my bill.'
'I'll bring up the phones and the bill authorisation personally, sir.'
The phones would come in handy and Jay wanted to avoid shops as much as possible now that his details had hit the media. He shouldered the backpack and made his way back to his room via the stairs.
Sarah greeted him with a grin and a hug. Then kissed him hard on the lips, clearly appreciating his safe return. He felt an unfamiliar comfort as he returned the kiss. Again he wished that they'd met in different circumstances.
'I was getting worried,' she said.
'Apart from a bruised ego from having to carry this backpack, I'm good.'
She screwed up her face. 'The Wiggles?'
'Present from the dealer. Mind you, he's now got one of our credit cards. Probably headed straight for McDonald's.'
'I knew it was too good to be true. Have you checked it?' she said, indicating the bag.
'Not yet.'
Sarah unzipped the backpack as they moved over to the bed. She took out the money and the two packages wrapped in cloth and placed them on the quilt cover. The backpack also contained two boxes of ammunition, which she handed to Jay. He placed the boxes on the bedside table and helped himself to one of Sarah's cigarettes.
As promised, the cloths contained a 9 mm Browning pistol and a Glock 19. He pulled apart the Browning with practised hands, as did Sarah with the Glock. They worked in silence, doing their best to clean the weapons with the cloths. Both were in surprisingly good condition.
Sarah finished assembling the Glock and studied it. 'I hope we got our money's worth.'
'Not our money to start with, but I know what you mean.' Jay had the Browning together, stuck his middle finger inside the magazine housing and pressed the trigger to release the trigger mechanism. 'Have to admit, I feel a hell of a lot better now that I have this.'
They loaded their magazines and positioned them on their weapons. Then they placed both pistols on the bedside tables.
Room service arrived with their late-night meals. Jay turned up the television in hope of hearing something about their plight, or rather in hope of not hearing about their plight. Halfway through their meals, Jay made the news headlines.
'Leading tonight's late news bulletin. A highly decorated army officer is tonight on the run from authorities. It is alleged that Sergeant Jay Ryan killed his superior officer by brutally stabbing him early this morning at a military intelligence facility on the Gold Coast. Sources state that Sergeant Ryan was arrested by military police but promptly escaped custody with the aid of two accomplices. The army has yet to release an official statement on the alleged murder or escape. Police have released a short statement advising the public not to approach Sergeant Ryan. In other news . . .'
Jay continued cutting his steak. 'I hate it when they refer to me as an officer.'
Sarah pushed her food aside. 'Doesn't that worry you at all?'
'Absolutely. Never wanted to be an officer.'
'Not what I meant.'
He finished a mouthful of food. 'About the allegations? Just means we gotta be more careful. Besides, did you see that picture of me? Looks nothing like I do now.'
'Very handsome in uniform.'
'That's why I joined. Women love a man in uniform.'
Sarah rolled her eyes. 'Seriously, why did you join? Because of your dad?'
'Yep. Dad was Military Intelligence. He met Mum after he got back from a tour of Vietnam. They fell in love and he promised her he wouldn't go back. That's when he joined the Agency. Suppose I wanted to experience what he had. The army has taken me to some amazing places. It has shown me the extremes of life. Birth and death. Right and wrong. Things against which I can measure my own thoughts and actions. It's helped me understand where I fit in, in the scheme of things.'
'Where do you fit in?'
'I thought I knew. Remember when I said I didn't want to follow in Dad's footsteps going to NSIS?'
'Yes.'
'I didn't want to follow in his footsteps until the time was right to join the Agency. When I got back from Iraq I didn't meet anyone. Like Dad met Mum. I suppose I was waiting to find that someone so I didn't have to go back. So I could join the Agency. Didn't happen like it was supposed to. The army thought I would be a good teacher and that's what I am.'
Sarah nodded.
Jay changed the subject. 'I think I'll be right with that picture. I've changed plenty since then.'
'True, but we have to be smarter from now on. Including ditching this room. People in this hotel have seen you. They could make the match.'
'Yes, they could. But those who have seen me are working at the moment – wouldn't have caught that bulletin. I figure we stay here for a couple of hours, move to the next objective and then find Primrose.'
'What, pray tell, is the next objective?' she asked.
'We have to make it look as if the contracts for our extinction have been fulfilled.'
Sarah raised her eyebrows. 'What's your plan?'
'I want to start by sending a message to Uncle Pat to see if he can track down Primrose.'
Jay had his confidence back. He felt a clarity and sharpness that he hadn't experienced since Iraq. He started to believe again in his abilities. Something he'd questioned since he had returned and been pushed into a teaching role. Once again he felt the adrenalin surge of living on the edge. Primrose would pay.
'And then?' she asked.
'Then we catch us an assassin,' he said.