Colour Coded: The Silver Sparrow

By Katy Jordan

Sparrow’s stress and anxiety is close to boiling point after Neon’s latest move, and it is beginning to take its toll on the rest of Colour-Coded.

Somehow, they must get one step ahead of Neon.

While Sparrow not only deals with troubles of the mind but of the heart as well, tempers are flaring, relationships are faltering, and Neon continuing to elude them all sets their teeth on edge.

Will Sparrow’s aggravating behaviour drive them to fight harder? Or will it merely make him the weaker link and the easier target with Colour-Coded?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Austin Macauley Publishers
• Release date: Oct 31, 2022
• ISBN: 9781398400504

Katy Jordan

Katy Jordan was born and raised in Stirling, Scotland. From an early age she dreamed of becoming a writer and/or actress and for the last eight years she has been pursuing both. Official website: www.katy-jordan.co.uk [http://www.katy-jordan.co.uk/]

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About the Author

Katy Jordan was born and raised in Stirling, Scotland. From an early age she dreamed of becoming a writer and/or actress and for the last eight years she has been pursuing both.

Official website: www.katy-jordan.co.uk

Dedication

P.D.

You make me feel legitimately understood and give me the confidence to be unapologetically and authentically myself.

It is truly the best gift one human being can give to another.

You are forever my non-biological sister (whether you like it or not).

K.T.

My surrogate mother.

You have been my friend, my conscience, and my safe haven since the day we first said ‘hello’.

It is a gift I will never take for granted.

Copyright Information ©

Katy Jordan 2022

The right of Katy Jordan to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by the author in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.

Any person who commits any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.

ISBN 9781398400498 (Paperback)

ISBN 9781398400504 (ePub e-book)

www.austinmacauley.com

First Published 2022

Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd®

1 Canada Square

Canary Wharf

London

E14 5AA

Acknowledgement

To my readers,

Thank you for your infinite support before, during, and after the release of the first book in the Colour Coded series.

Because of that, the publishing of this book was possible. Because of that, you have made my dreams come true.

That alone, is a debt I can only repay by continuing to invite you to join me in the adventures of Colour Coded and by remaining hopeful that I continue to serve you well.

Thank you.

Prologue

Frantic Flight

There were no clouds in sight. None whatsoever. The sky was a bright shade of blue that Marks had never seen before, and the sun scorching the earth was unbearable.

Cpl Michael Marks was at the controls of the helicopter as they darted across the skies of Middle Eastern Europe. His commanding officer was sitting beside him, flipping through papers attached to his clip board, while six men sat behind them silently. This was war. And they were right in the middle of it.

Target in sight, sir! Marks shouted over the noise and began to bring the helicopter lower without reducing his speed.

Right gentlemen, gear up! Sgt Price yelled to the men sitting at the back. You’ll be descending in two minutes!

The men unclipped themselves from their seats and made their way to the back of the helicopter, harnesses being strapped to them and rucksacks being thrown on hurriedly, but in a co-ordinated, well-rehearsed manner. Marks continued to fly towards a small town that seemed to be situated in the middle of a desert. In the middle of nowhere.

Surely, these people would know they were coming.

Price threw his clipboard down, wiping the profuse sweat away from his brow as he held his hand on a dial.

Control, this is Charlie-141, mission is go in two minutes, do you copy? His thick London accent penetrated the confined space of the cockpit. Nothing but static sounds came back that sounded like someone trying to speak. Price looked both worried and angry at the same time.

He fiddled with the dial again.

Control, this is Charlie-141, do you copy? This time, nothing.

Have we lost signal? Marks pried.

Looks like it, dunnit? Barked Price. Right, lads! We’re going in blind, so keep your wits about you!

The men merely gave a nod, unfazed by the news they had just received.

Marks spotted the building in the centre of the town they had been researching for months and hovered over it. No sooner had the doors to the helicopter opened, for the men to commence their mission when gunfire began. Four men managed to take cover while the two at the front were shot, one falling from the aircraft.

Marks, GET US OUT OF HERE! Price bellowed.

Without thinking, Marks swung the helicopter around ready to fly everyone back to base when something whizzed past the window. Amidst the gunfire, someone down there had a rocket launcher.

They really were not welcome.

Marks veered the craft to the left and began swooping and swerving to try and avoid damage from the bullets hitting the chopper, the men clinging on for dear life as they were thrown around in the back nearby two open doors. Suddenly, Price whipped off his headphones and barged out of his chair, staggering to the back.

I’LL FIGHT THEM, SHALL I? he yelled, taking a rifle from one of the boxes and, positioning himself by the door, began firing back.

Following his lead, another soldier did the same, and soon, all four men had joined in. Marks was still trying to navigate his way out of the war zone they had made their way into, dodging rockets and bullets. The occasional dinging sound of ammo hitting the helicopter unnerved him. But nothing unnerved him as much as the sight in front of him did. The sight of an unmarked, enemy chopper coming straight towards them.

Focus.

He took a breath.

With no warning to the others, he gunned towards their visitors at top speed. Marks!

The men were now sliding around on the floor of the chopper flailing around, trying to grab something to steady themselves, while Marks merely pushed forward on the throttle. The chopper wasn’t moving. It spun around and he was now bursting towards the side of it. The door opened, and a man positioned his leg out on to the bar below, aiming his weapon directly at Marks. But he was playing chicken.

One of them had to move.

And it wasn’t going to be him.

His breathing intensified, his face glistened with sweat, his hand gripped the accelerator with a powerful hold, his brow got lower and lower.

As Marks let out a furious roar, the man facing him began to fire, bullets piercing the glass that shielded him, and at the last second, the chopper dropped.

They grazed over the top of them with the enemy propeller catching the underside of their craft, a shudder that jostled the whole crew, and they began to spiral. The enemy chopper too had taken a hit, and was flailing around in the sky.

Marks didn’t know where he was. From the sky to the ground, with a streak of the sun, he saw ground again before the sky returned. Like a whirlwind, they were all thrown around while he tried to gain control of the bird.

It was happening. They were levelling out. He was gaining control.

The other chopper wasn’t.

Its tail crashed into the side of their main carriage and sent them reeling again. This time, Marks let go of everything. The impact was so forceful that his seatbelt almost snapped as he was flung around in his chair. The G-force was unbearable.

Which meant the ground was imminent.

Red lights flashed and an alarm was blaring at him, dials spinning furiously as he fumbled to get his hands on the controls. MAY DAY! MAY DAY!

Marks! Price’s hoarse cockney accent carried through the aircraft.

YES SIR?

IF WE’RE GOING DOWN, WE’RE TAKING THEM WITH US! AIM FOR THAT BUILDING!

BUT SIR…

DO IT! NOW!

Marks closed his eyes. This was it.

He had always told his mother never to worry. He just flew the helicopters. He had the safe bit. It was everyone else who was always in danger. Her Mikey would always come home.

He looked on as the large building came closer and closer.

It felt more like it was hurtling towards them rather than the other way around.

I’m sorry, Marks said to himself, although he was saying it to the men whom he was on board with. The roof was face to face with him. Men had thrown themselves out of the way. Some had been brave enough to stay put.

Everything went black.

All was quiet.

Cpl Michael Marks felt nothing.

Chapter One

A month had passed since Neon had made his move.

Sparrow sat on his grey chair in the conservatory looking outside to the pouring rain animating the dull, grey clouds that hung over their secluded world. Rocket and Kevin Watt were getting into the red Subaru, as they prepared for their journey back to Bearsden.

They all believed they had gotten everything they could out of Watt. But the nemesis of ‘The Lion’s Den’ still remained a mystery, as Watt had no idea who they were either.

He had never dealt with them personally.

It wis iy-wiz Andy an’ Davie, he had claimed, Ah hones’ly dinny huv a clue man.

They had stood with him while he made a phone call to the newly titled second in command to inform him of Neon’s scandal, and that the people he was pinning it on had nothing to do with any of it, so that part was dealt with.

At least, Sparrow hoped so.

A month had passed since Neon took a direct stab at Sparrow.

It was thirty-one days to be precise.

Sparrow had been counting. Working. Keeping himself busy. Worrying.

There was a lot to worry about; Bullet was now walking around but was on strict house arrest by Lab.

Everyone was just happy to see her up and about in all honesty.

As Rocket pulled out of the driveway, Sparrow turned his attention to a chair sitting at the end of the semi-circle. A new chair. A white chair.

Jack’s chair.

Although, Jack Burns was no longer Jack Burns, he was now The White Wire.

Sparrow was happy to have him in their family.

Jack…or Wire…was a huge asset to them, and seemed to genuinely care about all of them. Especially Bullet.

Sparrow wasn’t too sure how he felt about that. He didn’t approve of Rocket and Tide either.

It was work. Work was work. Trusting your team was one thing, but personal connections could put a lot of things in jeopardy. Bullet now knew that all too well, what with Jack and everything they went through. But what bugged him more than anything was the thought of them telling each other about their pasts, and then a break-up occurs.

What then?

Do they just keep it to themselves or do they announce it to get back at the other? Suddenly, out of nowhere, it occurred to him that, in his whole life…he had never had a proper girlfriend.

Maybe that’s what his problem was. Maybe, he was jealous.

No.

He was just being logical; emotional attachments cause problems.

Problems are things they should all be trying to avoid.

Sparrow trailed off on his train of thought, which was abruptly halted at the next stop.

You seem weighed down, boy.

The Spectrum stood directly behind him. Sparrow didn’t need to turn around to know his hands were clasped behind his back.

Well, there’s a lot to carry, sir.

Indeed.

He eased himself on to the Fuschia Flare’s seat that was right next to Sparrow’s.

Can I help to carry some of the weight with you?

I don’t know.

Well, there’s only one way to find out, isn’t there? The Spectrum coaxed him playfully.

Sparrow slouched back in his chair; his already crooked shirt even more crooked now. He let out a long breath and stared at the tiles on the ceiling, with the lights that never seemed to turn off. He tried to make his brain slow down. His thoughts were running wild and he struggled to separate them from one another. When he really thought about it, talking to someone was impossible.

Sparrow didn’t know where to start.

The best he could do was go with the one that was at the forefront of everyone’s mind.

He knows.

Who knows what, boy?

Neon. He knows.

About your past?

Sparrow’s nod was filled with nothing but regret and fear in equal measure.

How much does he know?

Everything. From my earliest memory to the day I left him. He knows all of it.

And he will die as the only third party to yourself who does.

How? We never catch him. We go, we try, we fail. I think we’ve proved that, Sparrow snapped.

He walked over to the railing and leaned on it, anger filling him, frustration gnawing him, fear bursting at the seams of what made him a man.

We do not fail.

No, I guess that’s true, we don’t fail. He wins. Every single time.

He does not win.

He’s still alive, isn’t he?

Yes, he is.

So, then he won!

No.

Sparrow felt his grip tighten on the railing as The Spectrum’s riddles only added to his frustration and his anger. The metal pole within his grip could crumple out of shape at any minute.

So, tell me…what’s your logic for this one?

In silence, The Spectrum rose from the chair and slowly made his way towards him, carefully clasping his hands behind his back. He peered at Sparrow over the top of his small spectacles.

Yes, Neon is still alive. Yes, he has evaded our attempts to subdue him. But we have not failed, and he has not won.

It was like the world was on mute. The Spectrum merely held his gaze, while Sparrow waited for him to continue.

Did you just want to clarify what it was we were debating or…?

No, Sparrow, I want you to find the answer yourself. Preferably without attempting to patronise me in the process.

Another quiet spell ensued.

Except this one was extraordinarily awkward. Sparrow now felt put on the spot at The Spectrum’s words, while the man persistently bore through him with a simple stare.

Find the answer himself. Sparrow thought about his boss’s statement.

His mind was like an ugly kaleidoscope; everything was everywhere, it made no sense, and it certainly wasn’t pretty.

All he could do was repeat the man’s words over and over in his head.

He thought about their mission, the hours he and the girls spent in the cold night air, hunting through burnt rubble for the entrance to the bunker, so they could find Bullet. He remembered her limp body lying in the hospital wing along with Jack’s. He recalled the news report that Youth found, which has been playing on a loop since the day of its release.

Sparrow recollected the memory of everyone cheering Bullet on as Lab let her go and she walked unaided for the first time, how Lab cried with joy when she did, and how that set everyone else off, including The Spectrum. He remembered the party they had, when they unveiled Jack’s room on the second floor by Gecko’s, how the party relaxed everyone for a little while, how they were given a chance to unwind and accept a new member into their family.

How everyone was unwound, but him.

He was reeled in like a coil ready to burst. He wanted to work, to do more research, to make a plan of action. The game of chess that they had been playing was still in motion.

And then it hit him.

Everything was still in motion. It was still ongoing.

They still had a chance.

He hasn’t won and we haven’t failed because we’re still alive?

The Spectrum flashed him a smile, filled with immense pride.

Precisely.

But he is consistently one step ahead of us. He’s now in the wind, we have no idea where he is, who he’s with or what he’s planning next. How can we not have failed?

Oh, I admit this is a rather unfortunate setback.

Unfortunate setback? Sparrow scoffed. This is a fundamental flaw in everything we’ve been fighting for!

To a certain extent, yes, you’re right, The Spectrum agreed in an unusually calm manner, However, Neon must go somewhere. We know he was injured.

And to no one’s surprise, he never sought medical attention.

Right, and what does that tell you?

Sparrow was taken aback for a moment as he tried to construct an answer.

It could be that he wasn’t as injured as we thought he was.

He was injured, Bullet shot him; Gecko witnessed it with his own eyes and gave us a full account of the goings on in Neon’s second bunker, he corrected Sparrow, So, what does his not seeking medical attention tell you?

That he’s bleeding out? That he’s weak?

Ah, my dear boy, we already know that Neon’s weak. He could not accept the rejection that he received from Bullet, Flare, Rocket and yourself five and a half years ago, and he’s been on the war path ever since.

Yeah, and he’s been bloody good at it.

That fact I cannot deny. But do you really think, with everything he wants to accomplish, that he would let himself bleed to death from a bullet hole in his arm?

Sparrow considered what The Spectrum was asking.

Honestly, no. He didn’t think he would leave a bullet wound open. He believed fully that Neon would seek help. But no one with his description has been admitted to hospitals anywhere in the surrounding area, and he wouldn’t make it to one farther outward.

Do you think he has someone for him like Lab is for us? Sparrow pried.

I believe it is a possibility worth investigating, The Spectrum replied.

How…how do we do that?

Do what, boy?

How do we figure out who this person is?

No, The Spectrum announced, The question isn’t who the person is? It is, if there is such a person.

Okay…so, my question still stands, how do we do that?

Oh, that’s an easy one, boy. It’s a situation that needs Colour Coded, wouldn’t you agree?

Without waiting for an answer, The Spectrum turned his back and began to walk away.

Sparrow put his finger into his ear and then realised he didn’t have his ear piece in. He followed The Spectrum out of the conservatory past the spiral staircase and along the corridor. Youth’s door was edging closer and closer as he kept his speed up, his thoughts in line and his hunger for a plan at the forefront of his mind’s eye. As The Spectrum continued down the hall towards his office, Sparrow stopped and knocked frantically on Youth’s door.

Sparrow, The Spectrum called back to him without turning around, although he had stopped dead in the middle of the corridor.

Yes, sir?

The point I was making earlier was this: we have not failed and he has not won because we are alive. As much as I hate to merely imagine this but, even if one of us was removed from the equation by his actions, we will still not have failed and he will still not have won.

And how can you back that one up?

Because, Sparrow…so long as Colour Coded is around, no matter in what shape or form…Neon will always be in grave danger.

Chapter Two

Upon entering Youth’s quarters, Sparrow’s entire body had suddenly found a burst of energy.

He was ready to work.

The Spectrum’s words lingered with him for a while; they were still alive. Neon was always going to be at risk if they just kept going, and stayed strong and vigilant for as long as possible.

Sparrow…how do you want me to do that? Youth quizzed, I can tell you right now that there’s hundreds, if not thousands of people that could help Neon without him having to visit a hospital.

Yeah, but was there anyone that worked for Prismatic that could’ve done it?

Well, I’d need the name of every single person he had under his command…and from our surveillance of his warehouse, that’s a pretty big list.

Neon had a computer, Gecko announced from the doorway making them both jump as he wandered into Youth’s room, It was in his bunker, Jack and I both saw it.

Yeah, it was on a table that covered the trap door to the second room, Sparrow confirmed.

Yeah, but…maybe it wasn’t a prop. He’d have to keep some kind of records. There were only two drawers in that desk and he had over three hundred people working for him easily. He had to have used the computer.

True, Youth agreed, But even if he did, I’d need to hack the computer itself, and after that fire, I don’t think it’d be poss­­–

Couldn’t we bring it to you? Sparrow interrupted.

What?

I’ll go back and get it. The bunker wasn’t affected by the flames, remember? That’s how Bullet’s still alive, Flare made sure the fire wouldn’t reach that far.

All of that to see if someone had a medical background? Surely, there’s another way to find him, Gecko offered.

If you have a plan, feel free to chime in, Sparrow pierced, knowing fully well Gecko wouldn’t have any idea on where to go from the position they found themselves in.

Gecko eyed him curiously; he was acting very strange.

Are you okay?

No, I’m not okay, Sparrow burst suddenly, He’s out there, we have no idea where, he knows my identity, he’s now threatening me with it, and I’m trying to come up with suggestions on how we can make our next move but I’m getting shot down left, right and centre by the people who are supposed to be helping me!

Wow Sparrow, mate…calm down man, Youth tried to coax him into a seat nearby, We are trying to help you. He was just asking… you are being a bit more full on than usual.

Well, my identity wasn’t at stake before! Before all this, it was just the usual; him being a dick and us trying to get him to piss off.

He’s right, Gecko announced, Sparrow, I’m sorry. I should’ve considered what you were most likely going through…there’s been so much happening lately that I completely spaced. I won’t ever do that to you again.

Don’t push us away mate. Youth pleaded.

For some reason, Sparrow felt incredibly guilty.

They were just trying to help, and he had practically thrown it all back in their faces out of selfishness; because it made him feel better. It made him feel like he was doing something.

And doing something made him feel less lost.

I don’t have a… Sparrow trailed off, gesturing to his ear, Could someone call everyone? This needs Colour Coded.

I don’t have mines in either, Gecko admitted.

Ah, to hell with it, Youth said as he smacked the button for the alarm, which began to wail all around the building. It wasn’t until Lab walked in at the tail end of everyone, gathering in Youth’s room that he turned it off.

It’s funny how we all know to come here when that alarm goes off, Flare thought out loud.

Well, it’s Youth’s alarm. Gecko corrected.

What’s going on? Has he done something else? Tide asked.

No, Youth began, although, maybe him not doing something after a month is something? But aside from that, Sparrow was the one who wanted something Colour Coded.

Instantly, the onus was on him as everyone gave him their full attention.

Too much attention, Sparrow thought to himself.

I asked Youth to look up anyone working for Neon that had a history of medical practice, so that we could find a lead on where he went after the fire. To do this, Youth would need his computer…and I volunteered to go back to the ruins to get it for him.

Well, that would be a smashing plan…but emergency services were there, and I can tell you for a fact that everything in there will have been removed and destroyed by now, Flare informed him.

Sparrow looked almost heart broken.

Another shoot down. Just what he was looking for.

Youth clocked his expression with sympathy in his eyes.

Is there another way we could find this out? he asked.

Well, Wire started, We know Neon likes to have the upper-hand on people working for him, because that’s usually how he gets them to work for him in the first place…so, how would he get someone with a medical background?

A doctor accused of malpractice, Lab instantaneously replied.

Could you look that up, Youth? Sparrow’s eyes lit up.

Now, that I can do, my friend.

Youth rotated in his chair, turning his back to them all while he played his alphabetical keyboard.

Okay… he said has he loaded up a list to the big plasma screen, I’ve narrowed it down to between 2012 and 2017 and there’s still a crap ton of people. I’ll need something else to make this list a bit more manageable.

I hate to say this but, Neon might not necessarily have someone who’s been sacked for malpractice, Gecko jumped in, Loads of people study medicine at university and then go into research or something. It still gives them a background in first aid, yet it doesn’t necessarily mean they ever worked in a hospital…and he could have something completely different hanging over their head.

I was going to suggest that, Wire added as he looked at Bullet, What do you think?

Bullet took a moment to herself as she stared at the very intimidatingly long list dangling over everyone.

Sparrow eyed her closely. He felt like he could see into her mind as it was running through her thought process, one silent suggestion leading her into another.

She was always very practical.

Sparrow admired her immensely. There was a reason they always turned to her in moments like this.

I honestly have no idea, she said to sighs of disappointment, There’s too little to go on. We need to start somewhere else.

Well, where? Tide said, We don’t have any other leads.

Do we not? The Spectrum’s authoritative voice penetrated the air.

I don’t think so, Tide replied perplexedly.

There’s a few different routes we could take, Bullet announced, For instance, the news report.

Talk to the reporter? Flare asked.

No, better than that: talk to the woman she interviewed in her report, what was her name? Mitchell?

Angela Mitchell, yes, Lab suddenly cut in again.

She was the one that took the phone call to… Whatever organisation she works for, Gecko voiced, 101 maybe?

Watchdog, Youth declared as he finished typing on the keyboard, I just found her on Facebook, it says here: ‘phone attendant at Watchdog’. Sir, her page is public.

And can you explain to this old man what that means? There’s a reason you’re called Youth.

"It means that anything she posts I can see without her allowing me to be on her