On the Run

He stripped in the cubicle in the restaurant to his briefs, then began to put on the tracksuit which was in the shopping bag. It was important to do this quickly – he didn’t know how much time he had. He also had bought some dark hair dye earlier, and did a roughshod job as quickly as he could manage. It didn’t matter if there were stains left on the tiles. Towelling himself as dry as he could get in such a limited time, and snapping on his belt bag, he was ready to leave.

It was now or never. Quickly he swung the bathroom door open in front of him and began to make his way out of the establishment. But where was the tail? As he made his way to the door, he recognized a car lumbering near the front of the restaurant, holding up traffic. He kept his head down and walked briskly past it.

Deciding to get out of the business area of the suburb, and head to the residential areas, he turned a corner and began to continue at a fast pace. How much more time did he have? He couldn’t be sure. It was for the best that he had opted not to go to the train station – it was likely there were more people waiting for him there.

To his left was a bridge over which the train tracks went, and on the right were houses. It was night, and through the windows slipped out shafts of warm light.  People were relaxing in their homes after a day’s work, while he was alone out in the thick of it. He began to walk towards the bridge.

Perhaps he had lost them completely? The streets were empty, and the murk of night was suffused by the light of the streetlamps. He had seen some steel rungs behind a steel security fence near the bridge, and he managed to climb over it without tearing his clothes too much. Soon he was climbing the makeshift ladder.

Once on top of the bridge, he began to walk along the train tracks. If he could just follow them out of the suburb, it would be much likelier that he could escape his pursuers. They might be waiting at the train station for him, but it was unlikely they would be on any of the trains.

The rumble of a train began to increase, louder and louder. He saw one of the boxes that contained wiring near the side of the tracks, and wanting to avoid any commotion, he threw himself behind it before the train’s lights illuminated him. He was wearing a black tracksuit, so the chances were if the lights didn’t hit him, then the train driver didn’t see him. The train roared past. Once more he began to walk the tracks.

So where should he go? Inside his belt bag was his wallet and some cash – he had thrown away his mobile phone when it became clear he was being tracked by GPS. How had they managed to target the identity linked to that phone? How many other agents were compromised? He didn’t have any answers, but right now the problem was survival.

He had been involved in an operation to hunt down Chinese spies in Sydney and had been in an undercover operation from ASIO to infiltrate their networks. These spies were working in crime syndicates, but their influence was more far reaching. His job had been to infiltrate the syndicates as a drug dealer, all the while passing on as much relevant information as possible. Normally he would meet someone every 2 months to debrief and share as much as he had learned, but things had begun to unravel after his handler had not shown up at their meeting spot.

He had walked to the shopping centre, puzzled that the meeting had not taken place, when he realized that he was being followed. A reflection on a window he was looking in had given it away, he knew hired killers when he saw them, their stares unhidden behind their black sunglasses.

Up ahead he could see the light of Lidcombe train station – he would have to leave the train tracks; it wouldn’t do to make a fuss clambering up on to the platform in full view of the commuters and CityRail staff. Heading away from the tracks, he climbed over the fence. In hindsight, maybe it hadn’t been the best idea to walk on the train tracks, but the idea of stalking around the suburbs with a car cruising around for him, had caused him to panic. As luck would have it, there was no one on the other side of the fence, and he soon after climbing over he found himself next to the side of an apartment block.

He finally had some time to think. He was fairly certain he had managed to escape his pursuers for the time being, but what would be the best way to get in contact with the organization? Then he remembered his training, there was an emergency number which he could call, written on a card in his wallet. All he had to do was call it in a public telephone.

A public telephone – one of the few survivors of a time long gone – was standing just on the corner of the road near the station. Once inside, he dialled the number and waited. A woman picked up the call. “Hello?”

“Its Agent Douglas Jones, code 458723. I need to report that something’s gone wrong with our operation. My handler didn’t show up, and then I was tailed by some hitmen from the syndicate. I’ve got no contact besides this number. I need to get through to somebody.”

There was a moment of silence.

“Please hold.”

He watched as cars went past on the street, until eventually a synthesized voice came through in deep tones.

“Douglas, something has gone wrong with our operation. We don’t know how, but it seems like they received intelligence of all the agents working undercover, as well as numerous others connected to the operation. But it gets worse. We don’t know how, but they seem to have access to a wide range of networks in Australia. This call is not safe, they will know the location of the call and have people on the way, your best option is just to walk into a police station and contact us from there. Since you’re a deep cover operative, you’ll likely get arrested from the criminal record you’ve managed to rack up, but we’ll be able to come and clear things up. Remember this call is not safe, they know where you are.”

He hung up. He had a rough idea of where the police station was and began to walk quickly towards it.

That was when he saw the car. It was an old Honda Civic, dark navy blue in colour, and it was accelerating fast towards him. The police station was just a few blocks away, so he broke out into a run. He heard the car skid to a halt behind him, and one of the doors open. A thickset Asian man was running towards him with a knife. Straining, he ran as fast as he could. The doors to the police station were not far now. He heard the man running after him turn and run away, getting back into the car which turned and drove away quickly, just as he made it to the doors.