Free Combustion by Steve Worland

conscious. He thumps the Corolla into reverse and hits the accelerator. The car jerks backwards and he points it towards the main gate. He clunks the transmission into drive, floors it and presses the button on his gate remote.
     
    Thud, thud, thud. Bullets thunk into the Corolla. Alvy instinctively ducks but has no idea where the fire is coming from so doesn’t know if it will do any good.
     
    Smash. The back window explodes, showers the interior with glass. Alvy looks in the rear-view mirror. Kilroy sit up from his position on the ground, shirt open to reveal the bulletproof vest he wears. He turns and aims his pistol at the Corolla again.
     
    Thud, thud, thud. Three more bullets pepper the car’s boot as it speeds through the gate. Alvy steers onto the empty street and accelerates away, tyres screeching as they scramble for grip.
     
    ‘Christ almighty.’ He takes a breath, tries to process what just happened. It’s inconceivable and yet here he is, on the run with two gunshot wounds. He needs medical attention but first he must tell a cop, or someone in authority, about the Swarm and what is planned for today.
     
    He wonders if anyone will believe him.
     
    ~ * ~
     
     
    9
     
     
     
     
    Bunsen paces the heliport, iPhone in hand. He doesn’t feel good about ending Alvy’s life, but there was no choice. Alvy is one of maybe three people on the planet who understands this nanotechnology well enough to create the Swarm, and is the only man who can disable it.
     
    Bunsen’s iPhone rings.
     
    He sees it’s Kilroy calling and knows it can’t be good news. If everything had gone to plan he would have received a short text from the old man such as: ‘it’s done’ or ‘it’s over’ or something equally pithy. But Bunsen just heard gunshots from the opposite side of the compound and now the phone is ringing. He fears the worst.
     
    He answers with a short ‘Yes?’ then listens. The update from his 2IC takes less than thirty seconds and is worse than Bunsen could have imagined. Jacob is dead and Alvy has escaped. It’s a screw-up of epic proportions.
     
    Bunsen keeps it simple. ‘We continue Phase Two as planned. Find him. Deal with it. If he talks to anyone, deal with them too. Call me when it’s done. Be quick.’ He waits for a ‘yes’ then hangs up. This is not the time for recriminations or Monday morning quarterbacking, and it’s not like there’s anything else that can be done. Bunsen can’t replace either Jacob or Kilroy. His crew is small for a good reason - it’s extremely difficult to find people who are dedicated to such a cause, have the correct skill set and are trustworthy.
     
    This is the first time Bunsen can remember Kilroy screwing up. The old man has been completely reliable over the years, not only for Bunsen but before that, as his father’s general ‘fixer’, doing everything that needed to be done to keep his myriad productions running smoothly. Kilroy persuaded whoever needed to be persuaded, made sure the actors and directors were on time and in good health (that is, not high), and quietly and efficiently cleaned up any mess they made along the way. Though Bunsen’s father wrote and produced light and fluffy sitcoms for a living, it took a surprising amount of strong-arming, bribery, wire-tapping and, yes, even the occasional ‘accidental’ death, to keep the shows on track and profitable. It never occurred to Bunsen that Kilroy would have trouble dealing with Alvy. Granted, he is getting older but, still, he’s only sixty-four and he’s been dealing with these kinds of issues since his twenties.
     
    He can’t dwell on it. Whatever the reason for Kilroy’s slip-up it doesn’t change what Bunsen does next. He gestures for Enrico to follow him and they enter the main building through the locked heavy steel door, move along the well-lit walkway and enter the laboratory. Bunsen directs his pilot to use the large trolley to move the black rhino drums containing