Quicker (an Ell Donsaii story) (18 page)

Phil gaped, “Why are you keeping it a secret? I’d think you’d be proud to have entered college at fifteen?”

“NO!” she emphatically shook her head. “Everyone will treat me like a child! Are they making a big deal about it on the net? Do you think
everyone
is going to know?”

Phil shook his head exasperatedly at her naiveté, “
Everyone
will know. But don’t worry; no one is going to treat someone with four gold medals like a little kid.”

The bus had stopped at a corner. Phil and Ell, deep in conversation, didn’t notice, though it was distinctly unusual. Even some argumentative voices near the front didn’t distract them. Suddenly there was a loud bang and the sound of shattering glass. Ell and Phil looked up in startlement toward the front of the bus where they saw six swarthy men in US Olympic sweats pushing down the aisle. They were holding guns! People were shouting and screaming. Ell realized they wore store bought “knock offs” rather than regulation Team USA sweats. One of them shouted, “Shut up!” He pointed the gun at the roof of the bus and pulled the trigger. Another loud bang and silence descended on the bus. “You are our prisoners! We will kill each and every one who resists.” He waved the gun slowly back and forth over the athletes as if daring anyone to say a word and be first to die.

Ell felt the zone crashing over her and she did nothing to stop it as she dropped her head behind the seat in front of her and whispered to her AI, “Allan, Call the police! This bus has been hijacked by terrorists!”

Allan said, “Sorry, something is blocking access to the net. I can’t even get through using military push. I suspect they’re carrying a jammer.”

Ell’s world had slowed. In a whispered tone, “Phil, they’re blocking the net!” She looked up and saw “Beretta” written on the gun in hand of the nearest terrorist.

“Crap!” he said, low out of the corner of his mouth, eyes focused on the gun.

“Somebody’s got to get out and call the cops! Can you bust out through a window?”

“I can bust a window, but I’m too big to get through the frame quickly. I’ll break, you jump.” With that, Phil stood, put his carry bag in front of the glass, and drove a back elbow into the bag. He looked on in startlement when the entire window popped out into the street.

To Phil and the terrorist next to him, Ell seemed to explode headfirst out through the window. She was in the bus one moment and
gone
out the window in the next. For Ell, deep in her zone, it seemed to take forever for the glass to move out of her way and for her to launch herself out the opening. She carefully applied spin so that she tumbled end over once, to land on her feet. She placed those feet carefully to land beside, and not on the window which was still skidding over the pavement as cracks crazed their way across the safety glass. Then she leaned to her right and accelerated back down the street the bus had come from, saying, “Allan, let me know when you have contact with the net again! Report to the police.” She felt like she was moving in slow motion despite her efforts to cover ground as rapidly as possible. At the sound of gunshots behind her she began jinking side to side. A few bullets struck in her vicinity, though none were at all close. She glanced back in hopes that someone else had made it out the window and in dread that they might have been hit by the bullets. No one else was on the street besides Ell and three non Olympic pedestrians who were actively diving for cover.

Phil watched Ell’s agile landing followed by an incredible burst of speed with awe. She ran back in the direction the bus had come from. Suddenly he realized that the terrorist who had leaned over him to look out the window Ell had just jumped through, had thrust an arm out the window and begun shooting wildly in Ell’s direction. Phil cast an arm up, across the terrorist’s chest and over his shoulder. Phil then ripped the terrorist out of the window frame, grabbing the wrist with the pistol as it came back into the bus and then tumbling them both to the floorboards. Moments later two other pistols were pointed at his head. He slowly let go of the terrorist he’d pulled out of the window, raising his hands. The man he’d pulled out of the window scrambled to his feet and began kicking Phil in the ribs while screaming in Arabic. Phil simply tensed his highly developed musculature so that the kicks bounced off relatively painlessly.

A terrorist with a deformed nose shouted and the kicking stopped. Then in English he screamed at Phil, “Get up! Was that Donsaii who escaped?!”

Phil shrugged and started to rise to his seat. This effort was handily stopped by the insertion of the business end of a pistol into his eye socket. “I said, ‘Was that Donsaii that escaped?’”

Phil looked into the fierce eyes behind the crooked nose and shrugged again, “Yep.”

More shouting in Arabic ensued but Phil was slowly allowed back into his seat.

About a hundred meters behind the bus Allan spoke in Ell’s ear, saying “I’ve now reached the net and reported the hijacking of the bus.”

Ell said, “Call me a taxi!” She saw a large black SUV coming down the street toward her. She stepped out into the street, waving for it to stop. It pulled over and she opened the passenger door, consciously slowing her speech to say, “That bus up there has been hijacked by terrorists! It’s full of Olympic athletes. Follow it so we can report its location to the police.” Ell swung into the passenger seat, assuming the driver would comply with her instructions. The driver’s swarthy Arabic appearance registered only as she saw his right hand swing toward her carrying another 9mm Beretta! She grasped the barrel before he could point it at her and twisted it to her right, his left. Just like her self defense course had taught, that direction loosened his fingers and the gun didn’t fire. She continued rotating it until it pointed back at him, mildly surprised that it didn’t fire through the entire evolution.

Jamal had been following about two blocks behind the bus. He had been wondering whether this was his opportunity to pull himself out of this mess. If he was just a little late when they went into the parking deck for their suicidal mission, and then didn’t go in himself, they would be unable to come back out after him in pursuit. Perhaps he could find a way to lose himself in America and maybe develop a new identity. As he followed the bus he was surprised to see something fall out of the side of the vehicle, two things actually. Ah, one was a window; the other was a person who landed on his feet without even stumbling, despite the fact that the bus must have been traveling 20 miles an hour! He started running down the street toward Jamal. That guy was fast!

The walkie talkie buzzed and Hamid said roughly in Arabic, “Donsaii has escaped! Catch or kill her!”

Jamal’s eyes widened as he realized that the person running toward him was actually the young girl gymnast. He recognized her reddish blond hair now. He could hardly believe her speed as she ran toward him and thought to himself that there would be no way that he could catch her. Then he realized, with some surprise, that he didn’t want to catch her. Just watching her on TV, Jamal had begun to admire her. He had been entranced by her beauty even before she broke so many gymnastic records the day before. He found her humility when she had been interviewed after winning so many awards to be inspiring. Now she streaked down the street toward him. He slowed the SUV considering the absurdity of the notion that it could even be possible for him to apprehend someone that fast.

Then, to Jamal’s amazement, Donsaii slowed and stepped out in front of his vehicle, waving her arms at him, obviously wanting him to stop for her! For a moment he considered warning her off. Surely it would be OK to spare this young girl he so admired? It would be hard to explain to Hamid though. Surely Hamid watched from the back of the bus?

Jamal decided to capture her and then find a way to avoid joining the others in the parking deck. He stopped and she pulled open the passenger door, getting in without being asked and rapidly saying something about following the bus! To be sure he had control of the situation Jamal lifted his Beretta out of the cup holder and turned it toward her. To his astonishment, before he had fully pointed it at her, she snatched the pistol out of his hand and pointed it back at him. It happened so quickly and
so violently
that at first he simply thought she had simply struck the back of his hand. She said, “Catch, up, to, the, bus.” Her tone was matter of fact, not demanding, simply telling him what to do. Her words were jerky as if she was trying hard to enunciate clearly. He stared into the muzzle of his own gun for a moment, then shrugged and pulled the SUV back out into the road to follow the bus. “Faster,” she said, and he complied.

When they had pulled within 40 meters of the bus she rolled down the passenger window and, with an impossibly quick movement, pushed her shoulders up and out, pointing the Beretta. Then, without firing a shot, she dropped back down into the seat. “It’s still on safe!” she said with a hint of amusement as she looked the gun over for the safety. Jamal felt his face flush with embarrassment. Then she was back up out the window. She fired a burst like a machine gun! He hadn’t even been aware that the gun had an automatic fire mode. He thought to himself that she was a terrible shot. She didn’t break even a single window at the back of the bus. He could see Hamid’s crooked nose in the back window of the bus, a startled look on his face.

“Drop back!” She said to him.

“Huh?” Jamal said, suddenly noticing that the bus was listing to the right. A large strip of rubber flew off of the right rear tire and the bus swayed drunkenly. Jamal saw Hamid kicking at one of the back windows and he hit the brakes.

“Drop back a hundred meters so we can get back on the net!” She demanded.

The bus swayed the other way as large fragments of rubber came off of the left rear tires as well.

Hamid succeeded in kicking out a back window and began shooting at them! As near as Jamal could tell, none of his shots even struck the SUV but Jamal braked to a complete stop just as the bus turned into the parking deck with sparks flying off the rear wheel rims. She said, “Follow them.”

Jamal said, “That’s as far as they are going.”

“What?”

“They have a hiding place in that parking deck.”

“What? Why? They can’t hope to escape once they’re holed up in there!”

“They don’t plan to escape. It’s a suicide mission.”

She blinked at him, “They’re going to kill them?”

Jamal nodded. “They will kill all the athletes, and then themselves in a ‘blaze of glory.’ First though, they will ‘negotiate deals,’ preach their philosophy on the net news and otherwise drag out the agony.”

Her eyes glanced up at her HUD and she said, “Allan, are you getting this out to the police?”

Jamal realized that she was speaking to her AI. His walkie talkie barked Arabic at him in Hamid’s voice. “Jamal! What are you doing? Get that bitch in control and bring her down here.”

Jamal picked up the radio, “Sorry, she took my gun. That’s what she’s been shooting at you with.”

“Fool!” After a pause, “The wild way she was shooting he can’t have any bullets left. I can’t believe she lucked out and hit our tires. Grab her and drag her down here. She’s just a girl!”

Jamal’s scalp prickled as he suddenly realized that blowing out all four of the tires in the back of that big bus didn’t happen by accident. Those tires were big and tough. She’d been intentionally shooting at the tires!
That
was why she hadn’t hit any windows. In English he said to her, “How many rounds did you fire?”

Abstractedly she replied, “Three for each tire, so twelve, plus one that missed high and right. How many in the clip?”

More hair standing up. She knew exactly how many shots she’d taken and exactly how many hit their targets!? How? She’d been firing on automatic hadn’t she? “Uh, Fifteen, plus one in the chamber.”

“So, I still have three bullets, don’t get any ideas.” She looked down from her HUD and over at him. “Are you with them or against them? You need to decide ASAP!”

It startled Jamal to realize that she recognized how conflicted he was. “I used to be one of them. I’ve wanted to get out for some time, but if I try to leave they’ll kill me.”

“Well, maybe if you help, you can get into witness protection or something. But you need to help big. Where is their ‘hideout’?”

Jamal paused, heard sirens in the distance, and decided she was his best chance. “In the back corner of the bottom level.”

“OK, get out, we’ll wait for the cops.”

Jamal hopped out. Ell opened her door at the same time and then stood on the inside of the door so that her head and shoulders stuck up out of the vehicle. Holding the Beretta in plain view she said, “Walk around to this side.” He did so and she then got the rest of the way out and closed the door. Moments later three police cars pulled up, lights flashing and screeched to a halt next to them. Doors burst open and police stepped out behind them, weapons drawn. One of them spoke over their loud hailer, “Drop that weapon! Now!”

Ell flicked on the safety and tossed the Berretta into the grass, putting up her hands and allowing herself to drop out of the zone. A moment later she and Jamal were surrounded by police with drawn weapons. One said, “Wait a minute, this is the Donsaii kid!”

“Who!”

“The girl that broke all the records in gymnastics yesterday!”

They all stared at her a moment then several voices at once said, “Naw,” and “She’s just a look alike?” and “Why would she be out here?” and “She’s just a kid!”

The first cop said, “No, that’s her all right. My daughter made me watch her over and over last night!” He turned to Ell, “What are you doing in this neighborhood? And carrying a weapon?”

Ell stared at him and said, “As I reported over the net, the Team USA bus to the sports arena was hijacked. I escaped. The bus has just been driven down to the lowest level of the parking deck behind me.”

The cops stared at her incredulously, then looked wildly about the area, exclaiming. Some seemed to believe her but others were doubtful in the extreme.