Flamingo Podnyalsya Ch 10b

Flamingo Podnyalsya Ch 10b

By Phil Miller

Chapter 10b

KC was observing her screens. “You might not want to see this.”

Cody covered her broken nose, trying to stem the blood, the thumb on her right hand was throbbing. Her ears had popped but the ringing was still there. They watched the footage unfolding above them as Tom lead the Elite killing machine to the door to prime the explosives. Cody was shocked. How could he? “Bastard!” she screamed.

The CCTV screens went blank, the dull thud of the blast just audible to them.

KC began punching away feverishly at her keyboards and then turned to Cody and Craig.

“You only have about two minutes then you’ve got to make a break for it. The guns will take care of most of them. The air vent is the only way. Over there,” she shouted, pointing to a small silver panel.

“It goes up to the roof. You’ll have to move, now,” she smiled at Craig as he and Cody eased the panel away. Cody was bearing up the best she could with the pain from her broken thumb, as she forced her way into the square ducting. Craig turned before joining her; he knew it would probably be the end for KC.

“You don’t have to say anything,” sighed the Hackney hacker, as she sat back in her chair and pulled a large packet of Turkish delight from her drawer. Craig blinked back a tear as he bent down to squeeze in behind Cody.

 “Hey! Craig!? What’s it like being a billion-dollar bug?” was the last question that echoed through the shaft.

The machine guns fired 120 rounds a minute. Most of the squad were cut to pieces in the blink of an eye; It didn’t matter; all were expendable.  

Donyevsky sat in his jeep, observing the carnage, before ordering in the second wave. “Get the dead out of there and send in E2. I want Kayse Matrix in one piece.”

Cody and Craig emerged from the air con shaft above the Archway, both supporting each other as they made their way along the gritted flat felt roof. From their vantage point they could see Donyevsky orchestrating his minion.  They made their way along three adjoining buildings, eventually arriving at a small plant room, the door unlocked. They dashed inside and carefully made their way down an old metal spiral staircase, at the bottom of which, was a long narrow passage. Cody was feeling the strain. Craig was aching and his head was thumping. The door at the end of the passageway was locked and they could hear what sounded like machines in operation. Cody booted the door open and was immediately confronted by around fifty Asian machinists who all stopped work almost simultaneously. No-one moved until a short puffed up woman started to scream at them. Then they all joined in. Cody and Craig ran the gauntlet of abuse till they reached another door, the angry mob following, launching coat-hangers, and the odd chair. A large overweight man stepped out of an office in front of them and grabbed Craig in a bear hug. He was squeezing the life out of him, and Cody was trying to defend herself against the mob of angry women. She quickly picked up a small lighter on one of the tables and made a dash for it, grabbing the odd bit of cloth here and there on the way. The gang had gained ground and were about to grab her when Cody lit the cloth and launched it into a large linen container, which burst into flames almost instantly. There was pandemonium. Craig was almost losing consciousness, but as soon as the fire took hold, he was dropped like a rag doll. The floor caught fire very quickly. Chaos ensued as Craig and Cody leapt down another flight of stairs and out through the front door, followed by panicked, screaming women. Donyevsky turned his head towards the commotion, signalling his men. He ran towards Cody and Craig, his PSS-2 held low. He opened fire, hitting two of the factory workers. Cody and Craig ran for their live’s but they were not in a good state. Peter Donyevsky and two of his men were closing in fast. Cody spotted a biker dismounting from his BMW 650. She tugged at Craig to follow her as she made a dash for the urban street bike, still ticking over. The rider lifted his helmet off and as he lowered it, Cody caught him with a reverse turning kick to the solar plexus, then axe kick to the back of the neck. He was out like a light. Cody grabbed the helmet and mounted the bike.

“Get on.”

“Your joking, you can’t ride.”

“Yes, I can.”

“Fucking hell!” he shouted as he hopped on behind her. She revved it a few times then shot away like shit off a shovel,  just as Donyevsky and his men emerged through the smoke and chaos they had left behind.

“Get onto E force. All units, they will not get far. We need them alive. I will re-phrase that; we need him alive and well. Kill her if need be,” he waved his men away and took out a cigarette, calmly lighting it as he watched the building burning before his eyes while sirens sounded in the distance.

Copyright Phil Miller