Dead Edge: the gripping political thriller for fans of Lee Child. Jack Ford

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СКАЧАТЬ his friend was.

      Earl caught up with a heavy pant. Holding onto Cooper as they stood under the glass dome of the Jeffco court house.

      ‘Coop, what’s going on? What the hell are you doing? Where are you going?’

      Cooper couldn’t see for the sweat which ran down his face in rivulets. ‘Let go of me, Earl. I gotta go.’

      ‘Is this something to do with the President?’

      ‘I’ll call you. I swear.’

      Earl’s words followed Cooper. Landing on nothing but the still, dry heat of the afternoon.

      ‘Don’t bother… You hear me, Coop…? Don’t you bother!’

6

      Be2 e5

      The hard concrete of Jefferson County Parkway pounded through Cooper’s sneakers. Pounding through his head as he sprinted along the tree-lined sidewalk. Pulled down heavy from the drugs whilst the Colorado sun scorched a pattern of fire on his back. Parked car after parked car. Empty vehicle after empty vehicle fuelling his alarm.

      He stumbled as he ran, looking for a cab in the deserted streets and not realizing the loud cry for help he’d heard had come from him, until the call of panic cut at the back of his throat. The only thought making sense to Cooper was somehow he had to make the twelve mile trip to Denver.

      The sound of a car, an engine, had Cooper spinning round. He squinted. Shielded his eyes from the sun. And there on the other side of the road, driving down the public highway, like water to a thirsty coyote, was a rusting grey Honda.

      Cooper exhaled. Long. Hard. Tasting every second of the relief because although the driver didn’t know it yet, Cooper knew that car was going to be his one-way ticket to Denver.

      Quickly he darted across the middle section. Scrabbling up and along as the Honda began to drive past him. Briefly Cooper thought about hailing, waving the guy down like he was summoning a yellow Checker taxi in NYC. But for once, sense kept his mouth shut and his hand firmly by his side. His mind was messed up, but even he wasn’t going to bet on the driver stopping for a sweat drenched, wild-eyed guy.

      Cooper dug for an energy he wasn’t sure he had, trying to push himself forward, feeling the burn of his legs as he ran to get in front of the station wagon.

      He dived.

      Threw himself round in a one eighty.

      Closed his eyes.

      Heard the slamming of brakes accompanied by the noise of the horn which told him he was still alive.

      He peeled his fingers off the burning hot metal of the hood, thumping his fist on top of the roof to counteract the pain, then watched as the driver’s eyes welled with terror. Three hundred and twenty pounds of fear. His stunned deliberation – as to whether to risk driving off or not – costing him, giving Cooper the chance to fling open the door.

      ‘Hey, sir, how’s it goin’?’

      The gaping mouth full of nachos and the remains of a cheese dip on his lap made Cooper feel bad for the guy.

      ‘Here’s the thing, sir. I need your help. I’m not going to hurt you but I need to borrow your car.’

      The guy started choking. Real hard. Guacamole-colored saliva dripped from his mouth and onto his chin. He gave no words to Cooper, just nodded like a marionette on a string, his jowls wet with drool as he cowered from the hard pat on his back from Cooper.

      ‘Look, it’ll be okay… My name’s Thomas J. Cooper. If you go inside the court, ask for an Earl Edwards. He’s my attorney. He’ll vouch for me… I will return your car, sir. But hey, you can always ride along with me if you’re concerned that I won’t bring it back. Or if you prefer, you can always get out here.’

      Cooper didn’t blame the guy. Heck, he didn’t blame him at all, though he reckoned it was the fastest the Guacamole guy had run since high school.

7

      O-O Nc6

      Cooper put his foot down and drove. Over the mid-section of Weimer Street. Over the sidewalk of Johnson Road. Over anything that got in his path. Swerving. Weaving through traffic. Keeping his eyes out for the cops as he sped down the freeway towards Denver.

      Sign read, 60.

      Speedometer read, eighty-five.

      Sign read, Do Not Pass.

      Cooper undertook using the shoulder.

      Whatever it took to get there.

      Trickles of sweat bled between his fingers, causing his hand to slip as he jabbed at the radio buttons trying to listen to the news of the unfolding events. To anything which would tell him where. How. But as for why, he needed to leave that one for another day.

       *

      Fifteen minutes in and Cooper was gripping onto the Honda’s steering wheel as if he had it in some kind of neck lock. Keeping it from running right out from under him. He was wired and if the drugs had worn off he couldn’t tell. The adrenalin hitting him harder than any handful of OxyContin ever could.

      A couple of hundred yards past the Denver health center at the top of Bannock street, the crowd worked better than any satnav could, showing Cooper he’d arrived at his destination. A phalanx of the bewildered, of the traumatized, of cops, of news anchors, formed and filled the street.

      Not bothering for the car to stop fully, nor waiting to turn off the engine, Cooper opened the door. Jumped out and raced into the crowds, pushing through, ramming and wedging himself towards the front.

      ‘Move it…! Move it…! Get the hell out of my way!’

      He gave loan of his emotions to a stranger, turning and yelling in his face as if somehow it was he who’d caused this pain… Panic. Terror inside him.

      ‘Did the bomb go off here…? Where’s the President…? Is he still in the school…? Answer me, dammit.’

      The dark-haired stranger’s head lolled back and forth as Cooper held his shoulders. Tight. Shaking. Hell, he just wanted answers and he didn’t care how he was going to get them.

      ‘No…’

      That was all he needed. Didn’t need more. More would’ve cost time.

      Frantically, Cooper ran back to the car, and without looking to see if anyone was in his way the Honda burnt up rubber as he reversed the car, taking it into a J-turn.

      Clutch in.

      Clutch out.

      Shift to first.

      Up and along the side walk, over the mound, banging the gears full throttle. Didn’t know where he was going СКАЧАТЬ