Temple of the Gods - Andy McDermott [53]
‘Don’t worry, kiddo, we thought of that.’ She nodded to the man beside Eddie, who cautiously holstered his weapon – the other gunman pointedly raising his SD9 towards Eddie’s face to discourage him from trying anything – and took out a shiny metal tube with a nozzle on one end. ‘Gas injector,’ Scarber explained. ‘No needle marks, no noise, and you’ll be dead in twenty seconds. We get off at Nagoya, and by the time someone tries to wake you up at the end of the line we’ll be out of the country.’
‘Well, hoo-fucking-ray for Japanese politeness,’ said Eddie. Blocked in, with the man across the table covering him, he could neither fight nor run. ‘Do I at least get to finish my ciggy?’ He raised it to his mouth.
Scarber shook her head. ‘Those things’ll kill you.’ She gestured to the first goon, who turned in his seat to face the Englishman, bringing up the gas injector—
Eddie spat the cigarette into his eye.
Sparks flew, the blinded man screeching and clapping a hand to his face – and Eddie yanked him over the armrest. The startled agent opposite found his line of fire blocked by his partner.
The anguished operative was still clutching the injector. Eddie clamped a fist round his hand and twisted it to jam the nozzle up against the goon’s jaw. There was a sharp hiss. The man’s shrieks turned to pure horror as he realised his death was just seconds away.
But the same would be true for Eddie if he couldn’t get clear . . .
He bodily shoved the dying man across the table, then snatched at a lever on his chair. The first-class seat slammed into its reclined position as Eddie threw himself back against it. The other man stood to bring his gun above his spasming partner – only to have the Smith & Wesson kicked from his hand as his target rolled backwards.
Eddie crashed down in the next set of seats and scrambled to his feet. He had to get out of the carriage – the presence of witnesses would drastically limit Scarber and her men’s actions. He leapt into the aisle, about to sprint for the door at the end of the coach—
It opened. Another suited Asian man came through, gun raised.
Eddie dived across the aisle as he fired. A dull thump of lead against flesh and a choked scream came from behind him. The man beside Scarber had moved to retrieve his gun, only to take the bullet in his chest.
Another shot smacked into the seat back above Eddie. The new arrival was charging down the carriage for a clear shot. He needed a weapon. The dead goon’s gun had landed on the seats across from Scarber’s table. Eddie flung himself over the row of chairs. Another shot hissed overhead as he landed heavily.
The gun! Where was it?
He looked frantically about, hearing footsteps rapidly closing.
If it had fallen under the seats, he was doomed—
There, against an armrest. He snapped it up, firing blind over the seats. The running man ducked for cover.
Eddie jumped back into the aisle. Scarber was still in her seat, but had hooked her gun with one outstretched foot and was reaching under the table for it.
He pointed the SD9 at her and pulled the trigger—
It clicked. Empty.
Scarber nevertheless flinched as if she had received an electric shock. A brief exchange of hostile glares, then Eddie vaulted the dead man and ran for the rear of the carriage. ‘Get Jun and kill that bastard!’ Scarber shouted.
The door automatically slid open as he approached. He darted into the boarding compartment. Two sets of doors ahead marked the connecting passage between this coach and the next – and through the glass he saw another man hurrying towards him.
Nowhere to go. The outer doors were sealed, controlled by the shinkansen’s crew and only opening when the train was stationary.
But there was another door, a ‘no entry’ sign on it. He shoulder-barged it, but the lock held firm. The man was almost at the connecting passage.
Another slam—
The door burst open. Eddie fell into a cramped guard’s compartment, hip barking against a shelf-like desk on the