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.He took the necessary three steps and lashed his foot out, smashing one of the young men in the side of the head.'Get the hell out of here!' he roared as the teenager fell back, blood matted instantly along his blond hairline.'McAuliff!' yelled Holcroft, racing around the car towards the opposite front door.'Get in and drive, for God's sake!'As Alex climbed into the seat, he saw what he knew instantly was the worst sight he could see at that moment.A block away, from out of the milling crowds on the street, a tan Mercedes Benz had suddenly accelerated, its powerful, deep-throated engine signifying its anticipated burst of speed.McAuliff pulled the gearshift into drive and pressed the pedal to the floor.The car responded, and Alex was grateful for the surge of the racing wheels.He steered into the middle of Queen's Drive, on what had to be Miranda Hill, and immediately passed two cars… dangerously close, nearly colliding.'The Mercedes was coming down the street,' he said to Holcroft.'I don't know if they spotted us.'The Britisher whipped around in the seat, simultaneously withdrawing the Rycee automatic and the transistorized radio from both pockets.He snapped on the radio; the static was interspersed with agitated voices issuing commands and answering excitedly phrased questions.The language, however, was not English.Holcroft supplied the reason.'Dunstone has half the Unio Corso in Jamaica.''Can you understand?''Sufficiently… They're at the corner of Queen's Drive and Essex.In the Miranda Hill district.They've ascertained that the secondary commotion was us.''Translated: They've spotted us.''Can this car get a full throttle?''It's not bad; no match for a Mercedes, though.'Holcroft kept the radio at full volume, his eyes still on the rear window.There was a burst of chatter from the tiny speaker, and at the same instant McAuliff saw a speeding black Pontiac come over the incline in front of him, on the right, its brakes screeching, the driver spinning the wheel.'Jesus!' he yelled.'It's theirs!' cried Holcroft.'Their west patrol just reported seeing us.Turn! The first chance you get.'Alex sped to the top of the hill.'What's he doing?' He yelled again, his concentration on the road in front, on whatever automobiles might lie over the crest.'He's turning… side-slipped halfway down.He's righting it now.'At the top of the incline, McAuliff spun the wheel to the right, pressed the accelerator to the floor, and raced past three automobiles on the steep descent, forcing a single approaching car to crowd the kerb.'There's some kind of park about a half a mile down.' He couldn't be sure of the distance; the blinding sun was careening off a thousand metal objects… or so it seemed.But he couldn't think of that; he could only squint.His mind was furiously abstracting flashes of recent memory.Flashes of another park… in Kingston: St George's.And another driver… a versatile Jamaican named Rodney.'So?' Holcroft was bracing himself now, his right hand, pistol firmly gripped, against the dashboard, the radio, at full volume, against the seat.'There's not much traffic.Not too many people either…' Alex swerved the car once again to pass another automobile.He looked in the rear-view mirror.The black Pontiac was at the top of the hill behind them; there were now four cars between them.'The Mercedes is heading west on Gloucester,' said Holcroft, breaking in on Alex's thoughts.'They said Gloucester… Another car is to proceed along… Sewell…' Holcroft translated rapidly as the voices spoke, overlapping each other.'Sewell's on the other side of the district,' said McAuliff, as much to himself as to the agent.'Gloucester's the shore road.''They've alerted two vehicles.One at North and Fort streets, the other at Union.''That's Montego proper.The business area.They're trying to cut off at all points… For Christ's sake, there is nothing else left!''What are you talking about?' Holcroft had to shout; the screaming tyres, the wind, the roaring engine did not permit less.Explanations took time, if only seconds - there were no seconds left.There would be no explanations, only commands… as there had been commands years ago.Issued in the frozen hills with no more confidence than McAuliff felt now.'Get in the back seat,' he ordered, firmly but not tensely.'Smash the rear window; get yourself a clear area… When I swing into the park, he'll follow.As soon as I'm inside.I'm going to swerve right and stop.Hard.Start firing the second you see the Pontiac behind us.Do you have extra clips?''Yes.''Put in a full one.You've used two shells.Forget that goddamn silencer, it'll throw you off.Try to get clean shots.Through the front and side windows.Stay away from the gas tank and the tyres.'The stone gates to the park were less than a hundred yards away, seconds away.Holcroft stared at Alex - for but an instant - and began climbing over the seat to the rear of the automobile.'You think we can switch cars—'Perhaps it was a question; McAuliff did not care.He interrupted.'I don't know.I just know we can't use this one any longer and we have to get to the other side of Montego.''They'll surely spot their own vehicle…''They won't be looking for it.Not for the next ten minutes… if you can aim straight.'The gates were on the left now.Alex whipped the steering wheel around; the car skidded violently as Holcroft began smashing the glass in the rear window [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]