The
Sicilian Dragon
JACK
BISHOP - BOOK ONE
Chapter
One
Somewhere
between Munich and Zurich Jack started to believe they might just
pull it off. He had evaded his pursuers in the narrow streets
approaching the coach terminus as marked police cars and vans swarmed
the area. Taking the worn baseball cap from his bag he had slipped
it on along with a padded coat to disguise his size. He had then
casually walked up to the bus that would take him out of the city.
The driver had scanned the code on Jack's phone and Jack had made
his way to the rear of the bus where he was less likely to be
disturbed. Or noticed. Stashing his rucksack, and its precious
contents, Jack had settled down for the journey.
The
bus was new but already showed signs of wear.
The
seats were frayed and graffiti in a mixture of languages was etched
into the windows. Despite the time of night it was three quarters
full. Many of the passengers had closed their eyes as they had left
Munich and there was little talk amongst those passengers who
remained awake.
Jack
checked the time on his watch.
It
was two hours since they had pulled out of Munich station.
Soon
he would be crossing the border and he would be able to breathe a
little easier. The delivery of the first half of the package,
currently stashed in his battered backpack under his seat, would be
completed and he the team could regroup.
Jack
keyed in a code on his
phone and the screen lit up revealing a secondary security screen.
Entering
the second passcode fully unlocked the phone.
Ensuring
the Wi-Fi access was turned off Jack opened the mapping App to check
his progress.
The
blue dot which indicated his location showed the border just a few
miles away. Jack switched to his contacts.
The
contact list contained just seven entries.
None
had names present, just a list of letters with corresponding phone
numbers.
Jack
moved his thumb to select the contact marked 'F'. It was time to
check in and find out the progress of the second part of the package.
As the encrypted message box opened the bus started to slow.
Instinctively
he locked the phone.
Sitting
up in his chair he noticed other passengers starting to stir and
mutter.
The
vibration of the engine further reduced as the driver activated the
air brakes.
The
fact that there was no scheduled stop and the time of departure were
the reasons Jack had specifically chosen this bus so this was
worrying.
Blue
flashing lights reflected through the windows and the reason for the
unexpected stop became clear.
Glancing
over the seats Jack saw that the motorway ahead was reduced to one
lane, which was funnelled between two German police cars.
Beside each, uniformed and heavily armed, stood too many officers
for a normal inspection.
Illuminated
by the roof lights of the vehicles, they watched two of their number
indicate to the driver to open the front door.
Jack
grabbed his bag and quickly checked the contents, making sure they
were still protected.
Sliding
from his seat and ducking low he moved to the small stairs at the
rear of that led to the toilet, and next to the toilet the emergency
exit.
Grabbing
the lever, he pushed it down.
The
door remained closed fast, the safety mechanism, still in place until
the driver released it.
At
the front entrance Jack was glimpsed the two officers climb aboard
and speak briefly to the driver.
The
one who spoke was wearing the badges of a captain in the German
police.
He
towered over the driver in his seat, hooked nose protruded over a
thick moustache.
The
second officer was clearly the muscle.
Even
taller than the captain he filled the aisle, head only inches from
the ceiling.
Both,
Jack noticed, were carrying sidearms.
Muscles
was already playing with the holster cover of his, obviously keen to
show it to the passengers.
His
exit blocked; Jack slipped back into an unoccupied seat opposite the
steps.
Pulling
his cap further down over his eyes he watched as to Moustache slowly
walked up the central aisle, followed by Muscles, checking each
person's passport and compared the passengers faces to a sheet of
paper that Jack would bet contained an image of his own portrait.
Moustache
and Muscles slowly approached his location.
Jack
could now hear their discussions with the passengers. As they
questioned a blonde female passenger in her early twenties, she
turned and pointed at him.
Moustache
turned towards Jack and their eyes met. Jack smiled and shrugged as
Moustache began to walk towards him.
Muscles
now had the excuse he wanted and uncoupled the holster cover, his
hand starting to ease the pistol from its case.
Moustache
raised his hand and told Jack to stay seated.
Jack
stood, pretending he didn't understand, he had to make the most of
the small advantage he had while the officers were restricted by the
narrow aisle and the police outside remained unaware of what was
developing on the bus.
"No
spechen German", Jack said as walked towards his would-be captors.
Moustache
replied, shouting at Jack to remain where he was.
Muscles
was close behind his boss, obviously keen to resort to the next level
of control, putting hands on Jack, or worse.
By
this time Jack had closed the distance between himself and the lead
officer.
He
exploded forwards pushing Moustache backwards, tangling him up with
Muscles.
They
fell to the floor, Moustache pinning Muscles down as their bulky
overcoats hindered
them further. Jack grabbed for the bright red hammer he had seen
located next to a double sized window.
Swinging
it hard the sharp point on the emergency hammer shattered the window
upon impact, the glass fragmenting into a thousand pieces.
The
wind immediately howled in, bringing a flurry of snow.
Glancing
at the officers Jack saw they were still struggling to untangle
themselves, although Moustache was in the process of pulling himself
to his feet.
Jack
noticed that the handgun Muscles had been keen to bring to bear had
become dislodged and slid back down the aisle towards where the
driver sat, open mouthed.
The
passengers nearby also remained frozen as the events unfurled before
them.
Seeing
his chance Jack grabbed his rucksack and dived through the window,
landing heavily on a snow-covered bank, rolling to reduce the
impact.
Shaking
his head to clear it, Jack grabbed his cap that had been knocked free
as he landed.
Replacing
it he kept the bus between him and the police vehicles.
He
needed to make use of the few seconds he had before the police on
board raised the alarm and those stood at the front became aware.
Moving
quickly towards the rear Jack broke into a run.
Jumping
the waist high crash barrier, he landed in the overgrown bushes that
ran alongside the road.
Risking
a look, he lifted his head and saw the two police officers looking
through the broken window, barking into their radios.
The
area was lit up with their powerful Maglite torches.
The
police who had remained outside reacted to the radio calls, making
their way quickly but in a professional manner up each side of the
bus.
Ducking,
Jack rolled down the embankment, clutching his bag to his chest.
Reaching
the bottom, he set off at a run, the shouts and lights fading behind
him.
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