He was slowly tiring. His inner clock estimated they’d been chasing him for at least twenty minutes. He’d led them along footpaths, up and down stairways, in and out of shopping malls, through the train station under Sydney’s streets – everywhere and anywhere. He’d retained a resolute lead, refusing to give in, refusing to surrender to their lethal hunt. 

The two men followed like hounds after a fox, primed to run him into the ground before the slaughter – two headstrong hunters with no intention of letting him go. He’d hoped to lose them in the crowds but peak hour had passed. The streets and platforms had thinned considerably. Most commuters had caught their train or their bus. Denied the security of people, it left fewer havens for him to hide in, and fewer allies to help him. It also lessened his chances of slowing the men behind him, particularly when they paced themselves as strictly as he did. 

In his late fifties, twice the age of his pursuers, the dark-haired man was grateful for the time and effort he’d put into staying fit over the years. True his foe kept up with him, but they’d failed to gain any headway, even after such an extended run. 

Charging up onto the footpath out of Central railway station, he turned towards the city centre. One comforting thought crossed his mind; if these men broke their code of silence and shot him in the open, he’d have witnesses, witnesses who’d hopefully identify them to the police and track down the people responsible for the predicament he was in. 

The diminishing number of people he passed offered no assistance. It came as no surprise. In this day and age, no one made any effort to help, particularly if their life was threatened. Even now, people stepped out of his way with startled and ‘I don’t want to know about it’ looks, allowing him passage, just as they would do for the two men in pursuit. Yes, he was on his own, to the end, however it may conclude. His chest was tightening, his breaths shortening, his legs burning. It was going on for too long. His reserves were beginning to let him down. He needed to end this – quickly.

Racing around a street corner, the man skidded to a halt, but not because of the lack of his physical attributes. Puffing hard, his attention was fixed ahead. Two burly men raced towards him across the busy road in front of him. He couldn’t believe it. They brazenly dodged traffic in their eagerness to reach him. With their cold stares focused on him, they looked exactly like the two behind – thugs, robots, paid heavies. Despite being dressed in casual attire, their hard and callous features isolated them from the ordinary city dweller. Terrific, just what he needed. Fresh recruits. 

Again he ran, heading in a diagonal direction across the very same street his new foe had almost finished crossing. Forced to turn back into the annoyed traffic and blaring horns, the men altered their route and followed. 

The other two appeared at the corner, taking in the scene between raspy breaths. With no hesitation, they charged onto the road after their comrades and fleeing target.

Safely crossing the street, the older man ran blindly. The four pursuers gained on him, particularly the two new contenders. Gritting his teeth, he pushed his body on. Jumping the low railing bordering a car park, he fell into the closest car and yanked the door handle up. The door didn’t budge. It came as no surprise. No one left their cars unlocked. He raced to another on the off chance it was open, praying for it to be open. It was locked tight. He tried two more cars. No luck. He couldn’t afford any more wasted time. He’d taken a punt and it hadn’t paid off. Time was precious. He had to keep moving. 

A quick glance over his shoulder confirmed his thoughts. The men were close – too close. Not only had he lost time, he’d lost out on witnesses. He’d led them into a quieter area, with people far and few between. The men had already acted on it and drawn their pistols. In the short glimpse the hunted man had of the weapons, the long barrels indicated they were mounted with silencers. Added with the hard-set faces, the sight boosted his adrenaline. The equation had just changed, raising the stakes well into their favour. A growl slipped through his lips, surging him with incentive. He bounded into full flight once again. He couldn’t give it up yet. He couldn’t.

Ahead of him, he caught sight of a young woman walking to her car carrying a couple of shopping bags. In a quick appraisal, he couldn’t help admire her beauty. Her blonde hair fell below her shoulders, complimenting her attractive features and slim athletic build. Would she help him? Hating the thought of involving her in such a dangerous ordeal, he felt he had no choice. If he continued to run without any outside help, he’d surely die. Yet, calling on this stranger for help could still see him die, and possibly her as well. No way would these mercenaries leave witnesses. But what choice did he have? Without help, his plight for survival had been for nothing and would see him meet his maker here in this car park under the cruel hands of these merciless soldiers of fortune – or perhaps he could slip through their clutches in a lucky break. One thing he knew; he couldn’t escape on his own. 

 

Detective Billie McCoy pressed the remote two metres out from her BMW. The indicator lights flashed as the door locks disengaged. Another press automatically opened the boot. The tailgate slowly lifted. Billie placed her loaded shopping bags inside and pushed the tailgate closed. She turned to step off. A thud sounded beside her. She gave a start. Capturing her instant attention, she checked her surprise. A man leant against the boot, red-faced and struggling to control his raspy breathing. It wasn’t hard to see he’d been running for some time.

“Please–help me,” he gasped in a strong Swedish accent. He clasped her arm and pulled her closer to him, staring into her eyes with beseeching desperation. “They–are going–to kill me.” 

Billie quickly took control of her astonishment while watching the guy stand up off the BMW. Sweat covered his face. He looked fatigued, overawed, fearful, yet behind the panic in his eyes, she sensed a fortified determination. 

“Who is?” 

A compressed splat sounded. The man gave a cry and fell into her. Staggering under his weight, Billie looked across the car park behind him. Four men ran towards them, all armed with handguns boldly in view. The extended length of the silencers attached to them explained this guy’s sudden collapse. They’d shot him. It also explained why she hadn’t heard the gunshot. She pulled the guy down out of the line of fire, and not a moment too soon. A bullet buried into the car where he’d been standing. Shit. Whoever these people were, they were serious about taking him out, and it was quite obvious they held no boundaries when it came to firing in public. They meant to kill him, and no doubt her for falling into the unfortunate doomed fate of being with him. Under no fault of her own, she’d seen too much, so how could they let her go? 

Dropping onto his knees, the stranger knelt up, lifting his weight off her. Gasping, he fell against the car in pain. Billie gave him no more than a fleeting glance. Reacting to a feeling of trust towards him, or maybe sympathy, she reached into her handbag hanging off her shoulder and pulled out a Glock pistol. Releasing the guy, she stood and fired two quick shots above the approaching men’s heads. Caught unawares, the four jumped and ducked for cover behind the nearest cars. It wasn’t much but it bought her a little time. She focused back on the guy beside her.

“Can you walk?”

“Yes,” he gasped. Billie hauled him to his feet and supported him alongside the car to the passenger door. She yanked it open.

“Get in.” She helped the wounded stranger onto the seat. He sank heavily against it, sucking in breathless gasps. Closing the door, and keeping her head down, Billie raced around the front of the BMW, all the while maintaining a wary eye in the direction of the four armed men. One stood up out from the car he was sheltering behind and lifted his pistol to target her. She fired off a shot before he could use it, sending him ducking back into cover. Aware she’d caught them out by firing on them, it was only a matter of time before they rushed her. They wouldn’t give this guy up without a fight, and four against one wouldn’t be healthy for her. She needed to get out of here in a hurry, a big hurry. Dropping into the driver’s seat, she slammed closed her door. A bullet hit the roof with a loud crack. She jumped. Already her borrowed time was up. She started the BMW and reversed out of the park. She glimpsed the men across the roofs of the parked cars as they weaved through them. Desperate to stop her, they’d left the security of their shelter to come after her. Two more bullets slammed into the car. 

“Shit.” Billie planted her foot. The BMW shot forward, racing for the exit on the opposite street away from the men. Another bullet buried into the fleeing car but failed to slow it down. Charging out onto the road with screeching tyres, Billie sped off. The neighbouring buildings sheltered her from any further gunshots. 

“Thank you, thank you,” Billie’s passenger gasped. She glanced at him, watching him struggle to sit taller in the seat. His arm was bleeding quite heavily, seeping through his fingers where he clasped the wound. His head fell against the headrest. His eyes closed. He sat panting hard. 

Billie looked to the road, struggling to come to terms with what had just happened. It had landed in her lap so fast, there’d been no time for compromise. She’d merely acted on instinct, going with her gut feeling to help this guy. It was either that or take a bullet for her trouble. Who the hell was he and why did those guys want to bury him? She cast him another glance. For now the questions would have to wait. He was in a lot of distress. She leant across to the glove box and flipped it open. On one side was a small stack of serviettes. She grabbed a few, snapped the compartment closed and slipped the thick wads of soft paper under his fingers. 

“Here, use these. Try to keep pressure on your wound.”

His eyes opened, looking her way. When he saw what she had, he took hold of the serviettes and held them firmly on the wound. “Thank you.” He rested his head on the seat.

“You need a doctor.”

“No. No doctor. Please,” he said, glancing at her before his eyes closed again.

“Are you crazy? You’ve been shot. If you don’t plug that up properly, you’ll bleed to death.”

“Please, they will find me in a hospital.”

“You can’t—”

“No doctor. Please,” he begged in a firm but controlled tone, opening his eyes to look at her. “Please. No doctor.”

Billie studied him while considering his request. She blew out a breath, struggling to deal with what was happening. Hell, who was this guy? Watching him close his eyes, something about him made her heart skip a beat. Was it his soft gentle voice offering gratitude and concern, or maybe his pleading eyes calling on her to trust him? Or was it because he emitted a strong fatherly image, so strong it reached out to touch her, reminding her of the father she’d been cheated of since she was a young girl after he and her mother had been cruelly shot down in front of her. Here was a guy, a complete stranger, roughly her father’s age, had he still been alive, shot – thankfully not fatally, affecting her emotions without any control. What was going on? Were her feelings playing tricks on her, struggling to make amends for her loss? Or was it an empty craving yearning to be filled, searching to take back some of what she’d lost? Whatever, something about him drew out her trust towards him.

“That bullet has to come out.” 

“It already has,” he gasped. “It went straight through.”

“You still need medical attention. Who knows what damage it could have done.”

“Please. All it needs is cleaning and bandaging.” He rolled his head and looked at her. “That’s all I’m asking. I can’t go to a hospital. Please, you must trust me.” 

“What about the cops? I can—”

“No. I can’t go to the police. Not yet. Please. There is something I need to do first.”

“Something like what?”

“Something important. I wish I could tell you but I can’t. Please, you must trust me.”

“Trust you? I don’t even know you. I—”

“Please, it is too dangerous for you to know anything. I’ve already put you at risk enough. I won’t ask anything else of you that will threaten your life. You have my word on that.”

Billie’s reply choked in her throat. His sudden concern for her caught her out. Again she was torn between her feelings and her job. As a cop, she knew she should report this, regardless of his misgivings—yet as a civilian, something was holding her back. She turned away from his pleading eyes to think. 

“They mustn’t find me.” His voice was weakening. “I must hide. Please, I won’t impose on your privacy any longer than I have to. If you could spare some water and a bandage, I’ll leave you in peace.” 

The detective’s gaze was drawn to him. Carefully she thought over his request. It wasn’t that much to ask – a place to rest before he moved on. Simple. And it wouldn’t be the first time she’d bent the rules to help someone. Almost convinced she was doing the right thing, the cop instinct remained on guard. 

“Who are you?”

“My name is Alexander Myers, Alex. I’m a scientist. I have stumbled across something very unique. Unfortunately, it is in the hands of criminals who intend to exploit it in the worst possible way by capitalising on it through all the wrong people. That is why I must prevent it from happening. I need to find a place where they can’t find me, somewhere a long way from here, to give me time to sort it out. I need to stop them from continuing with this.”

“And how do you plan on doing that on your own? It sounds way too big for—”

“I am the only one who can do it. I was the one who created it, so it’s up to me to shut it down, which I have already started. Please, I know what I’m doing.”

“Ah huh. Great.” Billie breathed a tense breath. Suspicion tainted her thoughts. So much for the fatherly figure. His explanation now opened a lot of avenues, both good and bad, maybe more bad than good. The fact he was a foreigner didn’t sit well with her after this news. “Are you an illegal immigrant?” 

He sat up off the seat and stared her in the eye with a hard set look. “No. I have lived here for thirty-seven years. I have all the legal documents. I have worked in research for most of them. You must believe me.”

“Okay, take it easy. I’m sorry for being suspicious. It’s just that it’s not every day I rescue a stranger from pursuing gunmen who has created some dangerous…” She shook her head with a shrug of her shoulders. “Whatever it is you’ve created.”

He held her gaze a moment longer before falling back against the seat. He looked out the window and exhaled a heavy sigh. “You are so right, and I apologise from the bottom of my heart.” Again he sighed. “Unfortunately, things went wrong after I took up this job some months back. They poached me and offered a lifetime opportunity to work on a project they’d started but couldn’t finish, along with a hefty pay packet. It was an exceptional experiment they’d created, something I’d never seen before so of course I was excited to see it work, which, after many long hours, I did. The problem was, as soon as I produced what they wanted, everything went bad, very bad.” 

Billie’s mind flew into overdrive. When it came to scientists, any invention could lead to bad, particularly when dealing with guys like they’d left behind. 

“If it was such an exceptional experiment, and one you finished, why would they want to eliminate you if you did what they asked?”

He glanced at her. “Besides the fact they are ruthless and very dangerous, they didn’t want me telling anyone what their plans were. They need their secret kept as a secret.” He sighed heavily. “Unfortunately, it wasn’t until I’d finished my work that I found out exactly how ruthless they were. The boss guy was so excited, he was happy to explain to me what they planned to do with it. I think it was more to see if I supported it or not, a test, so to speak.” He shook his head and looked ahead to the road. “Not only did I want no part in it, I felt responsible for creating it, which made me want to destroy it. Without letting on to them, I adjusted the formula to stop them reproducing it. It won’t work now, not after sabotaging it. It was the only loophole I could think of to stop their plans, in case I don’t stay alive long enough. I’m assuming they don’t know about that yet. They wouldn’t be so keen to eliminate me if they did. Anyway, I got out as soon as possible and tried to hide. They found me three days later and I have been running ever since. They seem to have contacts everywhere.” He exhaled a heavy sigh and turned to her. “As you can see, it’s not a good outcome.” He flashed a shallow smile before facing the street. Billie couldn’t argue with that. It only intrigued her more so. 

“So what was it you created that has caused such a threat to your life?” 

He looked at her. “It doesn’t matter. It’s not important, not anymore. I made sure they can’t use it, and that isimportant.” A sigh slipped through his lips. “No way can they reproduce it or continue to use it to its full potential, not without the complete formula.” He shook his head. “I was so stupid to take up their offer. They are monsters and can’t be trusted.”

“So you’re saying only you have the complete formula, right?” Billie said.

“Yes.” His gaze swung out the window. The detective turned to the road. Her mind crowded with thoughts. Shit, this was getting crazier and crazier. The thing was, what should she do with this guy? Was he on the level? Was he telling her the truth, and more to the point, was he really one of the good guys, or the bad guys? The four gunmen she tagged as hitmen. She had no doubts about that. They were there only to eliminate this guy regardless of who got in the way. They had no issues targeting her despite her being an innocent bystander. The question was, should she get involved any deeper? Would they consider her as a witness and want to silence her? More importantly, would they track her down if she took Alex home? Thinking back, they did have a clear look at her, if only briefly. Had it been enough to ID her? Maybe. Thankfully there was no way they could have seen her number plate to pin it to her address, not from their position behind the parked cars, so it ruled that out. Maybe they could track down her BMW. They would have recognised its make, and possibly model. It was a long shot, and unless they had the equipment to do so, it would take time. Was it worth the risk? All she needed was a little time to get Alex back on his feet and on his way. He was the one they were after, not her. Besides, she’d come this far. How could she not follow through and help him? Going with her instincts, she came to a decision.

“Okay, Mr Myers, I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt and patch you up.” 

His attention shot to her. A faint smile lifted the corners of his lips. “Thank you. You are too kind, and please, call me Alex.” Exhaling an exhausted sigh, he rested his head back and closed his eyes. He looked worn out. Who knows how long he’d been running. It would have drained him, and that was without the bullet wound. Billie let him rest. She turned to the street and shook her head. Shit, why me? Of all the car parks in Sydney, he had to find the one she was in. Terrific. 

Ten minutes later, the detective drove into her garage. Turning off the car, she looked at her sleeping passenger. He was quite handsome and held his age well. Above the short-cropped beard, his skin was smooth and unblemished. Close-set eyes sat over a flat nose. The short dark hair exposed a few greys. His slim, wiry build was built for running, luckily for him. Sighing, she opened her door and climbed out. Pushing it quietly closed so as not to disturb Alex, her attention was drawn to the bullet scarred roof. 

“Great.” Damaged as it was, she’d deal with it later. Leaving Alex resting, she collected her groceries out of the boot and ducked inside. Dumping the bags on the kitchen table, she prepared the spare bedroom for him. Returning to the car after five minutes, she gave her guest a gentle shake. “Come on, Alex, let’s get you inside.” 

He woke to her touch. “Thank you, you are so kind.” 

Billie slipped an arm around behind him and pulled him forward. He had enough strength to climb out without putting too much strain on her. Billie held him firmly, lugging him along with little effort. Entering through the door adjoining the kitchen, she guided him to the right along a tiled path beside the dining room and sunken lounge. She led him up a set of four steps halfway along a raised polished timber verandah a metre wide. It offered entry to two bedrooms and a bathroom. On the kitchen end, a staircase hugged the wall up to a loft atop the three rooms – her bedroom and ensuite. 

She supported Alex through the door at the top of the four steps into a bedroom and lowered him onto the turned back single bed. He collapsed with a moan. Without opening his eyes, he strived to settle his breathing. The detective stood looking at him. He seemed to be getting weaker. His wound must be worse than he’d let on. Maybe his strenuous ordeal was all catching up with him. Billie lifted his legs onto the bed, making him comfortable. He made a feeble effort to help her. Once settled, his breathing steadied. She checked his temperature. Satisfied he was okay, she walked out and entered the bathroom next door, gathering what she needed. 

Returning, Billie sank down on the edge of his bed. Alex had slipped into a deeper sleep. She cut off his sleeve and studied the wound. He was right. The bullet had passed through the muscle, missing the bone. It could have been a lot worse. She cleaned and bandaged the wound. For now there was nothing more she could do. He really needed medical help but she knew that wasn’t going to happen. Rest was important to refuel his sapped strength. For a while she sat watching him, thinking things through. She couldn’t believe the turn of events. From the exhausted state Alex was in, she guessed he must have been running for a long while before he found her. He was lucky to have made it as far as he had. She couldn’t shake the niggling concern that the men chasing him might somehow track him down again. Maybe not here, but somewhere in the near future. Could she do anything to stop them, do something to help Alex hide from them? Could she try and track them down before they found him? If she could convince Alex to tell her who they worked for, it would be a good start to stop this once and for all. Maybe they were on police files. Hell, she had the whole police force to back her if she wanted it. If only she knew who she was looking for. It would make it a lot easier. The thing was, until Alex told her, she had no chance of finding them. Maybe she’d put it to her guest later. Together they might be able to work something out. Leaving him to sleep, she walked out and pulled the door closed behind her.

An hour passed before Billie returned to Alex’s moans. He was restless, tossing in his sleep. She sat beside him on the edge of the bed and felt his brow. He had no temperature. He jumped at her touch, waking instantly. He stared around him with a fearful look in his eye, and then relaxed, registering where he was. Billie flashed a smile.

“Hi. Bad dream?”

He blew out a tense breath. “Yeah. I think I was reliving the chase again.”

“I’m not surprised. How do you feel?”

His eyes were clear and responsive. “Better, thank you.”

She nodded. “Good.”

“Thank you for helping me. I owe you my life.”

“Sure.”

He smiled and closed his eyes. She watched him thoughtfully. 

“Alex, why were those guys so intent on killing you? I mean, you are the reason they have what they wanted in the first place, and sure, I know you said you didn’t like what they had planned for it. I’m guessing it must be bad. The thing is, murder seems such a stretch from offering you a profitable job. Why would they go that far? Obviously they mustn’t know you altered the formula or they wouldn’t be so eager to silence you.” His eyes opened, meeting her curious gaze. She didn’t stop. “It doesn’t make sense to—” 

He was quick to cut her off. “Please, let it go. It’s too dangerous for you to know anything. I’ve probably told you too much now.”

“What? You’ve hardly told me anything.” 

He clasped her arm. “Promise me you won’t tell anyone about this. Promise me.” Anxiety strained his tone. “You mustn’t tell a soul.” The concern was back in his eyes.

“Okay, okay. I won’t. Take it easy. Come on, you need to stay calm.” 

He stared at her, locked in her unwavering gaze. He nodded. “Good. Thank you,” he whispered, fighting to keep his eyes open. His hand slipped from hers as the listlessness engulfed him. The detective sighed. It was too early for questions. He needed more rest.

“Listen, how about you get some sleep. We can talk about this later.”

“I’m so–sorry.” 

“Is there anything I can get you? Water, something to eat?”

“No, I’m fine, thank you.”

“Okay, well let me know if you want anything.”

“I will.” His breathing deepened. He made no further effort to talk. Billie sat watching him. She felt uneasy. What was he hiding? He was scared, not so much by the men after him but more so for what, or rather who, they represented, whoever that might be. Sighing, she stood off the bed and pulled the sheet up over him. Casting him a final glance, she walked out, switching off the light.