DELIVERANCE: a gripping action thriller full of suspense by Jackson Cole Page A

to her at the earliest opportunity when they aren’t in imminent danger. Suddenly, as if to rip him from his current train of thought and defy the idea of being out of danger, the missile alarm sounds.
     
    Quinn simply cannot believe her luck.
    She followed the four-by-four’s tracks for one and a half kilometres and now here it is, right in front of her. The engine is still running even. She is immediately suspicious of a trap, but how elaborate would it have to be? They could not even know she is alive, let alone that she would follow their route, surely? So she proceeds with extreme caution, and as she steps closer to the jeep she notices the swirling patterns in the dust.
    Helicopter landing.
    This has been a pick-up point of some kind. Potentially an ambush if the engine of the vehicle was left running.
    A fast take-down.
    She smiles, hoping the kill was made; but she cannot depend on it. She jumps into the four-by-four’s still warm driver’s seat and eases the vehicle forward.
    As the sun continues to rise, Quinn heads towards Fort Baldwin.

Chapter Thirteen
    Marshall’s first thought is that they are completely fucked. Flying a helicopter and outmanoeuvring a supersonic missile are two completely different things.
    Sarah will not be able to do it.
    I’m sorry , Sarah announces through his headset as the wailing klaxon relentlessly blares on. But Marshall barely hears her. He is running through every possible action, and each possible outcome, and none of them are very good. He feels his hand reach out for some body armour to sit on, but of course there is none there.
    Then the missile alarm suddenly cuts off.
    Marshall wonders what has changed. A miss? Unlikely.
    A faulty missile? Even more unlikely in the current technological world. He cannot see a possible reason why they aren’t dead.
    I got big red button syndrome , Sarah says in his ear.
    Marshall feels he is missing something big.
    ‘What do you mean Sarah?’ he asks, as calmly as he can in the situation. ‘What just happened?’
    I have been looking at an instrument switch since we took off , Sarah explains. It’s an irregular switch that I’ve never seen before , so in the end I had to see what it did .
    ‘And what did it do?’ Marshall enquires sharply.
    You heard what it did , Sarah exclaims. It set off a fucking alarm!
    Marshall is suddenly gripped by panic. She has disabled the missile alarm somehow. Except that that doesn’t sound quite right from what she has just told him.
    ‘Hit it again!’ he orders.
    What? Sarah asks, shocked.
    ‘Hit the switch again, now!’
    She does so, and the missile alarm sounds again, thrusting Marshall back in his mind to the first time he ever heard it.
    Where are the lights ?
    The realisation dawns on him once he sets the two memories side by side. The first time he ever heard the missile alarm on a helicopter was in western Africa during his SAS days. He remembers that back then, there was a flashing light to alert anyone on-board who may not hear the klaxon, but there is no light accompanying the klaxon now. Neither was there one previously before he exited the Puma to save the pilots lives.
    Perhaps the alarm is fake?
    It was faked before.
    Marshall moves to the side door, opens it, and looks downwards. Below him, on the undercarriage of the Puma, he can see a scorch mark: it’s the mark he left with the flare as he exited the helicopter previously.
    It is the same helicopter.
    ‘Fuck,’ he says under his breath.
    Whatever faction is following them and trying to kill them has infiltrated Fort Baldwin. They knew his position from the second he left London. Shit, they were his position when he left London. He has been so blind, and it cost Mason his life. Whatever is going on, it runs a lot deeper than he first assumed. He begins to wonder if visiting Jefferson is such a good idea after all, but what choice does he have?
    None.
    They are out of options. At least distancing themselves from the enemy