Panic

It looked like Stark was reverting to plan B.

Leopold got to his feet and ran toward Christina, his path clear now that everyone was down on the grass, and grabbed his cell phone from the ground as he passed. He reached her and thrust the device into her hands.

“Keep this turned on and with you at all times,” he said hurriedly, “it will keep you safe.”

“Safe? Safe from what? What’s going on?” said Christina.

“Your injuries. Stark implanted explosives under your skin. This cell phone will jam the detonator. I have to go find him.”

Her eyes widened in horror as the consultant’s words hit home and she stared in revulsion at the raw scars on her exposed skin. Quickly, she pulled herself together.

 “He’s here? You can’t go after him alone. You know what he’s capable of.”

“There’s no time to explain to the Secret Service. Even if they don’t shoot me, by the time they realise I’m not a threat, Stark will be long gone.”

“But he’s got a rifle – you’ll be killed,” said Christina, eyes wide and imploring.

“He’s not going to stick around, not now the President is safe. He had his chance, and he blew it; retreat is the only option. By the time he shoots his way through the Secret Service, the police will be here.”

“This place is huge. How can you expect to find him?”

“There’s only one vantage point with a direct line of sight within range. The sound of the shot came less than a second after the bullet hit its target, which puts Stark not more than about a thousand feet away. If I were him, I’d be up there.”

He pointed at a white marble mausoleum standing atop a set of steps that ascended a small hill in the mid-distance. The mausoleum was sheltered by thick trees and bushes stretching out almost the entire width of the park on each side. It was the only possible place Stark could get a good view of the funeral procession anywhere within range. Before Christina could say anything to stop him, Leopold sprinted in the direction of the steps, hoping that Stark hadn’t decided to stick around and pick off anyone coming after him.

He reached the top of the steps in less than a minute and paused to catch his breath, sca

He heard a faint rustle to the right, coming from somewhere inside the long strip of trees that ran most of the width of the park. The cover was dense enough to hide anyone wanting to get in and out of the cemetery without being seen. Leopold ran into the trees, cursing himself for not bringing a gun and hoping that Jerome managed to convince the Secret Service he was on their side.

Fifty feet in, the cover of leaves blocked out most of the direct sunlight, except for the occasional ripple that made its way through to the dry ground. Other than this, the dense undergrowth was dark enough that Leopold couldn’t make out a clear path, and he had to slow his pace. He heard another rustle ahead of him, louder this time, and he crouched, ready to defend himself.

The cover of leaves burst open as a dark figure shot out and knocked him to the ground. Within a second he was back on his feet, just in time to see a large dog disappear around the corner, dragging its leash along behind. False alarm. Stark was probably long gone by now.

Leopold wheeled around as he heard twigs snapping behind him, expecting to get knocked to the ground by whatever animal had decided to make a quick exit in his direction. Instead, the consultant met the savage gaze of Jack Stark, his face set in frustration and fury. The colonel was dressed in full camouflage, with a rifle case strapped to his back and a handgun holstered to his belt. Leopold heard his pulse throb in his ears again and he tensed his muscles, ready to defend himself. He had to keep Stark occupied long enough for Jerome to convince the Secret Service to get up here and take him down. Leopold hoped he could last that long.

Stark crossed the distance between them in a single step and caught hold of Leopold, pulling him close. The consultant knew he was outclassed. This was a man who could hold his own against Jerome, and that was something he had never seen before. He didn’t stand a chance. But maybe, just maybe, he could hold him off long enough. Leopold’s brain was still spi

Chapter 47

Leopold felt his brain turn in his skull as the force of Stark’s punch wrenched his head to the side and blanked out his vision. He felt himself hit the ground just before his eyesight came back again, and the first thing he saw was his opponent’s heavy right boot fly toward him, slamming into his side. The impact knocked him on his back and he heard something snap. Probably another rib.

He gasped as he landed and tried to roll away, but Stark aimed another kick at his back. The blow landed hard to his shoulder and Leopold was on his front again. He managed to get up onto one knee and look up at his attacker, who was gri

The fight was over. Leopold knew it. But he just had to hold on a little longer, just enough to let Jerome find his tracks and get the Secret Service up here. He got to his feet, swaying slightly as he stood. He raised his fists. Stark laughed.

“I was going to make this quick,” said Stark. “But you’ve caused me enough grief that I think I might enjoy some sport. The idiots down there have no clue what’s going on, so we have a little bit of time to spare. I’ll give you one free shot. Hit me anywhere you like. If I go down, I’ll admit defeat.”

Leopold knew it was a genuine offer. Stark really didn’t think he could possibly lose. The consultant considered his opponent, tall and thickly built, and knew that his fists would be almost useless. He would need a better plan. The colonel holstered his weapon and beckoned him forward.

Leopold charged at Stark, trying to gain enough momentum in his body to lend extra weight to his attack. He clenched his right fist and threw it with as much force as he could manage at his opponent’s exposed throat. Leopold felt Stark choke as the blow landed and watched him stumble backward, gagging for air. The consultant attacked again, making the most of the advantage he had just won, and aimed a kick at the colonel’s groin, with the hope of putting him down. Before he could co

The camouflaged giant walked casually over and drew the handgun from his belt. He pulled the consultant to his feet with one hand and brought the butt of the gun across his skull with the other. Leopold felt like he’d been hit with a sledgehammer. Stark lashed out twice more, and the gun came away dripping with blood. Leopold felt hot liquid dripping down the side of his face and felt dizzy. His legs gave out underneath him, but his opponent’s impossibly strong grip kept him held up. He knew it wouldn’t be long now. There was only one more move to try.

He reached into his jacket pocket, fumbling awkwardly and trying to buy some time. Stark drew closer, his hot breath pounding against Leopold’s face, not noticing what the consultant was doing with his hands. He was staring directly into Leopold’s eyes. The huge assassin pushed his quarry up against the trunk of the tree and pulled out a large, curved knife from a sheath he had strapped to his shin, concealed underneath his clothes. From the many zip pockets Leopold could see, Stark could have any kind of arsenal hidden on his person. He held the knife to Leopold’s left eye, bringing the tip of the blade close enough so that the consultant saw double. Stark sneered.