Free Origin by J.T. Brannan Page A

them, until it stopped directly facing them, or the sound of screams coming from behind them, the screams one might well imagine coming from people seeing men with guns.
    But in an instant he knew they were not hidden – they were trapped. Even now, the exits to the square might be being blocked off, creating a kill zone in the plaza. He knew that whoever was behind what was going on wanted them alive, but he also realized that this might well be
preferential
, not necessarily
essential
. He certainly wasn’t going to take any risks with the situation.
    Frantically, he scanned the plaza, the crowds, the bands, the dancers, the exhibits, the displays, the—
    He stopped dead and, despite himself, a smile broke out across his face.
    There was a commotion up ahead, that much Eldridge didn’t have to be told, he could see it with his own eyes, something happening in the crowd, a ripple of people, roaring, laughter, shouts.
    The voice coming through his earpiece told him that the two targets had left the crowd, heading further south-east, towards what appeared to be an animal display area. They were pushing past the crowds there, approaching the animals, and then – Eldridge shut himself off, not believing what he was hearing.
    Then he was there himself, pushing past people so that he could see, and he knew that the voice had been right.
    He pulled back, yelling into his microphone to his teammates. ‘Get to the van! Now! They’re on the back of a damn horse!’

10
    A DAMS FELT L YNN’S grip tighten around his waist as he manoeuvred the horse through the rapidly parting crowd.
    He knew that the two of them on the back of a horse would only draw attention, their elevated position making them momentarily more of a target, but he hoped that the extra speed they would now have would more than compensate for it. He also didn’t expect shots to be fired wildly in such a packed public place, but there were no guarantees of that, and so he dug his heels into the horse’s flanks and drove onwards towards the west exit.
    From their higher position, they could both see more of what was going on. None of it was good. Lynn had twisted round to scope out what was going on behind, then turned and whispered in his ear, ‘Two armed men right behind us.’ He was amazed at the control of her voice, damping down any of the horrendous emotions that she must have been going through. At the same time, he had himself identified four policemen at work in the plaza, their attention shifting to the commotion around the animal enclosure.
    Adams and Lynn had raced in quickly, Adams jumping lithely on to the back of the unsaddled horse, arm down to pull Lynn up after him. The children who had been feeding the animal hay backed away quickly, and the keeper had tried to grab Adams’ leg to pull him off, but Adams had managed to kick him away, controlling the horse through the pressure of his thighs to steer her towards the far exit.
    Riding bareback was a difficult skill but it was one that Adams had mastered long ago, and one which he still often demonstrated during his tours. It was made more difficult by having Lynn behind him of course, but not impossible.
    He encouraged the horse – a fine chestnut mare – forwards, and she lightly skipped the barrier of the enclosure, starting to pick up pace. The crowd behind were calling for the police, and Adams knew they didn’t have long to get out of the plaza.
    Tim Renfrew sat watching the plaza exit in his van, submachine gun aimed out of the side window.
    He was still under orders to bring them in alive if possible, so he was planning on shooting the horse instead. If the horse went down, the targets would be momentarily helpless, hopefully for as long as it took for Renfrew to get close up and taser them.
    He could see the large crowd parting, pandemonium seeming to break out visibly, some people running screaming from the plaza, and then there they were. Charlie One, Charlie Two, and the horse –