Feeling dismayed about the future of her relationship with her now biological mother, Cat returned to the kitchen and went to the side driveway with Oliver. The armored car was an ordinary and inconspicuous black sedan. The driver, however, was a pile of muscle and had tattoos showing up above his collar and wrists. He wore sunglasses and a black suit and wouldn’t be out of place in a movie with Tommy Lee Jones and Will Smith.
Cat silently filed Catherine’s preference in men for later. It did explain why her body reacted to the sight of the muscular guy although the gender-bent girl didn’t feel interested in men.
“Catherine, this is Jack, our driver, and bodyguard for the day. He’s a former army ranger,” Oliver introduced them.
She smiled, “Jack, pleased to meet you.”
“Miss Wallenstein, it is my pleasure to work with you.”
“If you approve,” Oliver explained, “Jack will be your personal bodyguard. He served in Iraq during the Bush administration and went for a tour in Afghanistan before basically retiring with honors.”
Cat straightened up her back and almost saluted but ended up with just an awkward arm flail. Jack caught on to it and smiled.
“It’s an honor, Jack. And thank you for your service, prior and future. If Oliver recommends you, I have absolutely no objections.”
The army veteran sounded friendly but his voice had an undertone of sadness and anger as he spoke, “Miss Wallenstein, it will be my pleasure to work with you. I’m sorry for all you had to go through.”
“Thank you, Jack. I appreciate your sentiment,” She felt a bit bashful as she made eye contact. Catherine, on the other hand, was in full fangirl mode.
“We should get going. It seems that we have heavy traffic on the GW bridge,” Oliver ushered them to the car and opened the door to Catherine.
He made her sit behind the passenger seat, which was pulled all the way forward. “Now, if something happens, you will crouch in this space before you, and stay as flat to the floor as possible. There’s a helmet under the seat, put it on, then tuck your arms and legs in as close as possible.”
She sighed and felt a shiver, “Do you think something will happen?”
“One can never be too sure,” Oliver bitterly remarked. “I told you we had reports of strange visitors coming in and out of the defendant’s mansion. Something is going on and we must make sure you reach the courthouse in one piece. Jack wanted you to wear a bulletproof vest but the car has BR-6 protection.”
“Resists rifle shots,” Cat said as she examined the windows.
“Indeed,” Jack agreed from the front seat. “We are leaving. Please fasten your seat belts.”
The car took off but went northwest, away from Manhattan. “There are four cameras inside the vehicle and six outside,” Jack explained. “Their feed is recorded in a black box like those on airplanes. It records audio too, so be mindful of that.”
Cat was impressed. They spared no precautions and the warning regarding audio recording came in good time. She couldn’t talk to Catherine, as the interior of the car was deadly silent. They didn’t have even music to distract them and cover her mumbling, however silent she could do it after months of training. So she took her phone and indulged in Catherine’s social media addiction. Following the specter’s directions, she started by reading her feed and posting some nonsensical teenager stuff.
Jack did a few nonsensical turns then went across downtown Englewood, faking to take the I-95 access only to avoid it at the last moment and go under the highway and across the Overpeck Creek. They took the last I-95 to access the George Washington bridge. A lot of commuters fought to get to work on the other side of the Hudson.
“Are we being followed?” Cat asked. Differently from the airhead ghost airing in her head, she was worried.
“No, miss,” Jack answered. “Nobody is following us.”
“We have a second car with an armed escort trailing us a quarter of a mile behind,” Oliver explained. “Anyone trailing this vehicle would’ve been spotted by them.”
“Anyway, there’s no good spots for an ambush here in New Jersey. They know where you’re headed. We need to be on alert after we cross the bridge.”
They went at a snail’s pace and finally reached the bridge. Cat stayed with her eyes glued on the phone, skimming through Catherine’s Instagram feed for the ghost’s delight. A quarter of the way across the river, she noticed something very strange.
“Damn, my phone lost signal,” She mumbled to herself and lifted the device, trying to pick at least a bar. It was dead-dead.
This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.
“What?” Oliver asked, worried. “You lost connection to the cell tower? Here of all places?”
He took his phone and checked while Jack turned on the radio. They heard only static. “We’re being jammed,” the former ranger said. “Mr. McNamara, do as we trained.” He leaned to the side and took a ballistic helmet for himself. Oliver reached under the driver’s seat and nudged Cat to do as they told. She felt something heavy blanket over her.
“It’s the bulletproof vest you didn’t wear,” Oliver said. Cat looked up and saw the lawyer shimming into another vest for himself. At her puzzled look, he said, “The car can withstand some shots, truly but the enemy probably knows that too. If they open fire on us, it will be with heavier weapons.”
“Come over, Watchdog,” Jack spoke into the radio. “Watchdog, we are on orange alert. Damn, they’re jamming the whole bri--”
The windshield cracked in a spiderweb pattern and Cat screamed along with the ghostly girl in her head.
“No penetration. Stay down!” Jack warned.
“Sorry, Catherine,” Oliver said and pressed her down with his own body as he laid his chest over her shoulders. “Stay quiet and don’t make any sound.”
“It’s fine, Oliver. I trust you and Jack.”
She heard a gun being cocked. “We’re going to make it out of this, ma’am,” the Ranger reassured her. “They won’t be able to keep pressure on us for too long. Get your gun ready, McNamara.”
She flinched as the bullets started to rain on the car, joining the static from the radio and creating something that could be compared to rainfall on a tin roof. Outside, the people stuck in traffic started to shout and scream as they attempted to drive their vehicles out of the fire. Soon, the sound of metal crunching was added to the symphony of chaos as the panicked drivers crashed their cars on one another. One of them struck the back of their sedan, jerking them forward.
Catherine panicked.
Cat couldn’t help but scream briefly in surprise. People were abandoning their vehicles and screaming as they ran away back to New Jersey. Bullets still rained on them, finally punching through the windshield and letting more sunlight in.
“They’re sniping us from the bridge tower on the New York side,” Jack reported. “They’re out of our range.” She heard the radio buzz and whistle as he changed frequencies. “Watchdog, we’re under fire. Hostiles on the bridge tower, Over.” Jack slammed the panel. “Damn. I’m switching to open frequencies.
“This is Grendel Security 003 at the GW bridge. We’re under fire. Hostiles nested on the eastern tower of the bridge. Using heavy antivehicle ordnance. We require assistance.”
As if angered by the radio alert, the shower of lead intensified. Oliver whimpered. “I’m hit!” Cat whimpered. “It’s fine, Cathy. Just a flesh wound,” He soothed.
Cat struggled to even breathe. She smelled smoke but didn’t hear the fire crackle. People were still screaming and moaning in pain outside. Something exploded. They remained under fire. She heard a grunt and the sound of a pistol going off inside the car.
“Jack?” She asked.
“Stay down and keep silent, ma’am,” the ranger barked. “We got hostiles on foot seeking to finish us.”
He fired. The radio crackled and a broken message came through, “Watchdog to Princess Carriage, we’re closing on your location. Status.”
“FUBAR,” Jack said. “We got one casualty and the princess is dead. Repeat, the princess is dead. Took a shot to the neck.”
The radio went dead as Jack discharged his gun somewhere. Cat couldn’t see a thing crouched against the car floor.
“Keep silent, ma’am. Not a whisper. Let’s see if they believe our ruse.”
She felt a hand warm hand on her shoulder. “Let Jack do his job,” Oliver whispered to her.
Apparently, the attackers didn’t believe in Jack’s lies. The gunfire kept raining down on them. Cat felt something warm and gunky drip down on her neck. She smelled blood but couldn’t ask if Oliver was fine as she was ordered to remain silent.
She heard a helicopter nearby and an automatic gun firing. Outside, people still screamed for help and cried. Cat was shaking and even leaked a bit as she fought to remain in control. All she wanted was to run away from there but her mind told her that going out of the armored car was suicide. Sirens in the distance. The popping sound of bullets striking metal. Shouts. More gunfire being shot from closer to her.
Then she heard Jack reload his gun and empty a clip with breakneck speed. A man screamed in pain outside the car. A rifle went out at her side.
“Watchdog here!” Someone shouted from the outside. “Secure the area. Fire a flare.”
She heard the whoosh of a rocket and more gunfire. The helicopter came closer. Finally, whoever was attacking stopped shooting at her car.
“Dustoff Inbound!” Another man shouted. “Secure the perimeter!”
“We’re safe,” Jack reported from the front seat. “Miss Wallenstein, are you okay?”
Cat tried to stand up but couldn’t. Something was pressing down on her. Oliver. She ran a hand over her neck and it came bright red. “I’m hale, Jack. Oliver… Oliver is bleeding! Oliver! Oliver!” She shouted and tried to shake the lawyer awake. She got no response. Catherine was bawling in her head.
Jack threw the door open, “I got a wounded VIP here! Need medevac ASAP!”
The side doors of the sedan popped open. Cat felt Oliver being dragged off of her. A strong pair of hands picked her up as another pressed down on her helmet. She was carried like a bag out of the car and placed over one of the sedan’s floor mats which was dragged onto the pavement. She felt the wind from the helicopter blades.
“Secure the VIP to the gurney!” A man shouted. “Load him into the bird!”
“Blood!” Another man said. “How’s the princess?”
“Not my blood,” Cat shouted. Her voice broke. “I’m not injured.”
“Good. Stay down, ma’am,” the man who asked about her condition said. “Jack, she’s all yours.”
“Stay down, Miss Wallenstein,” Jack said. “And don’t look. Oliver is alive, the chopper is taking him to the hospital. I’ll shield you. Stay down.”
“Roger,” she whimpered.
She stayed crouched with her knees, forearms, and helmet touching the pavement. All she could see were glass shards and shrapnel everywhere. She could feel the mat was on a lot of broken debris and she was sure she’d get a lot of cuts without it.
The helicopter went away. Minutes later, she heard boots stomping and people thanking others as they were evacuated.
“NYPD,” a man stated. “What’s the situation here?”
“Grendel security, sir,” one of the watchdogs, Cat assumed, reported. “We were escorting a VIP when we came under fire.”
"Help the civilians," the police officer ordered.
"We need a medic here!" A woman screamed.
The chaos had just changed faces. People cried for help and everyone was shouting everywhere. She felt emotionally exhausted. Cat’s heart pumped like crazy and as the men talked around her, she felt like she would pass out.
“I’m getting sick, Jack,” she complained.
“Barf bag!” The ranger demanded.
Cat felt a hand on her stomach lifting her and a plastic bag pressed against her mouth. She stopped holding back and let her breakfast go to waste in the bag. It was the final dam. She started to cry her mind out, fearing for the life of the lawyer that was taking over as her father figure.