Page 15

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

M ore footsteps follow behind me as I cross the floor. I turn and see dark clouds on the Emperor’s face, and the Mastermind’s quizzical eyebrow, cocked at my Warrior.

The Warrior scowls back. “She went for a scamper around the hillside.”

The Emperor is displeased. He says, “What?”

The Warrior shrugs. “We had a little chat about it. It’s all going to be fine from now.” Storms brew on his face.

The Emperor commands him, “Wait.”

Too late. He’s already turned to leave. He shuts the door firmly behind him.

The Mastermind lifts a hand. “Leave him. We’ll get to it in time.” His attention turns to me. “Right now, though, did anybody see you?”

I sigh. “It’s unlikely in that weather.” My lips purse. “Anyway, I’m sure you would know.”

“What are you talking about? How?

“Your little flying friend?”

He frowns. “What?”

“The tiny drone above the house?” He and the Emperor lean in. I tell them, “Don’t pretend you don’t know about it.”

The Emperor says, “The fuck.”

The Mastermind already has the door open. He calls out, “Go bags!”

As the Emperor heads for the door, I hold out my bound wrists. He nods.

“You’ll be locked in a trunk for the journey anyway.” He pauses to look in my eye. “After your stunt this morning, the cable tie is the minimum precaution.”

“Where are we going?”

His eyes narrow and he shakes his head as he leaves the room, shutting the door.

I don’t know what I should take. Apart from these clothes I’m wearing — what’s left of them, the gun and a toothbrush from the bathroom, what do I have?

After a quick look in a few of the cupboards, I find a sports bag. I shove in some underwear – none of which looks much more appealing than what I have already — along with some tops and some jeans. I’m not loving these boots but, judging by the hurry the Emperor was in, I doubt I have much time for trying on shoes.

I yank down a few silk scarves at random, and toss in a pair of red heels, though I can’t think of anything in the bag I could wear them with.

In the bathroom, I scoop up a toothbrush and some basic toiletries when I hear a series of loud crashes and bangs from outside. They’re coming closer, and fast.

I drop the bag and struggle to reach my bound wrists around to fish the Sig from my pocket. I’m still wrestling with the pants when the door to the bedroom outside crashes. Heavy boots and the muffled grunts of two men clomp into the room.

The bathroom door is not fully shut, but if I try to open it with my elbow, I’d be in an open doorway, a sitting duck. An easy target.

I grip the Sig with both hands and raise it, and slip behind the doorway.

The noise in the room outside sounds like an aggressive search and is distinctly hostile.

Before I have time to think, the bathroom door bangs open and a short, cut-off shotgun pokes in. I kick the door hard. The hands holding the gun are slammed in the frame. The man attached to them barges the door wide. He has heavy coverings, probably Kevlar, a helmet and a black scarf over his nose and mouth.

He raises the shotgun.

I squeeze the trigger. Nothing happens. I pull again. The Sig has a double-step release. I’m thrilled to remember and it’s as I expect, the recoil knocks the pistol up and right — it is my gun.

The shotgun falls away as the black hole drilled between the man’s eyebrows matches the startled shock in his eyes.

I step back, waiting for the other man.

He’s too smart. He’s ahead of me. He bobs in the doorway, crouched low with his weapon ready. I’m exposed, against the wall. An easy shot.

A gun cracks and the attacker crumples to the side.

My Warrior leans in. Looks at the one that I shot, then back up at me.

“You are coming back to us.”

He beckons for me to come out.

With my Sig Sauer pointed down and away and my hands still wrapped around the grip, I tell him, “Put the shotguns in my sports bag.”

When I’ve passed him, I lift the gun to shoulder height. Then, knees bent, I extend my arms as I go through the door, cover the hallway, check clearance. Moving from wall to wall, I head for the stairwell. When I’ve seen that it’s clear, I head down, covering possible areas of threat as quickly as I safely can.

The Emperor emerges, crouching, backing out of the kitchen with a gun in both hands, sweeping doorways and the corridor. He spins, holding the gun on me. I nod. Then I see a movement behind him.

A man, armed, dressed like the two intruders upstairs. The Emperor turns fast, but I already got two shots off. The attacker is down.

When the Mastermind meets us in the garage, he says, “Look at you, kitten. Three shots, three shots on target.” My Warrior and the Emperor both nod approvingly.

The Emperor says. “You saved my ass, for sure.”

“You haven’t forgotten everything,” my Warrior adds.

The Mastermind and the Emperor both look at him. Then, shake their heads with wry twists of their mouths as their eyes swing to each other.

“Do I still have to ride tied up in the trunk?” I direct the question to the Emperor, but the Mastermind says, “You’re boxed in so nobody sees you. That’s for your protection as well as ours.”

I hold up my wrists and cock an eyebrow.

He puckers. The other two watch him. He turns his head and says, “You made one escape attempt already.” Then, “Anyway, you already proved you can take care of yourself brilliantly just as you are..”

“I think you are all getting off on seeing me tied up.”

They all shrug as they look at each other, then back at me.

“It’s not a hardship,” The Emperor says. That’s about as light-hearted as I’ve heard him get.

“Anyway,” the Warrior says, “There are two vehicles outside. One seems to be empty, but the other could still have hostiles inside.”

The Emperor says, “Always the military guy. ‘Hostiles.’ I love it.” I shake my head. He never misses a chance. The Warrior gives me a look that I can’t read.

Ignoring the Emperor’s comment, he says, “We should take the Land Rover. I only wish it were faced the other way.”

The Mastermind says, “You want to ram them?”

As the Emperor nods, the Warrior says, “Seems the safest way.”

“We’d definitely better have our kitten under the seat, then. Shame there isn’t a box we could keep you safe in.”

“Where’s the vehicle you’re concerned about?”

“Off to the right. About two o’clock.”

“One of us could back the van out, fast and block them, then be running back while you reverse the Land Rover and turn it. The van driver jumps in and you ram the target, facing forward.”

They all look at me in silence.

The Emperor’s eyebrows lift. Mastermind tells him, “I’ll drive the van.”

I tell him, “You’ll be exposed when you jump out. I’ll wait in the doorway and distract them. Then, we’ll both jump in the Land Rover together.”

After he sarcastically narrows his eyes and tips his chin, the Emperor takes out a knife and beckons me to him. I hold out my wrists.

The shutter goes up. The invaders have two Yukons in the driveway. The one nearest is the worry.

As soon as the shutter is high enough to clear the top of the van, Mastermind reverses at speed. He jams the van in front of the Yukon. Before he jumps out, I step into the doorway.

The back door of the Yukon swings open as Mastermind is diving out of the van. I open up one shotgun barrel at the Yukon before anyone gets out. Then another.

Warrior has reversed the Land Rover and turned, so he faced forward and he’s ready to go. Mastermind is almost at the Land Rover. The Yukon’s driver’s door starts to swing open. I step forward as I let off both of the other shotgun’s two barrels at it, one straight after the other.

I dash for the Land Rover and drop the guns along the way. Both the side doors are open and Mastermind and I jump in at the same time. Neither of us have the door shut before my Warrior guns the Land Rover at the Yukon.

I’m ducking behind the seat — we all do, except for Warrior, who grips the wheel with a manic grin. The shock of the impact sends me into the back of the seat in front. Then I fall back into the bench seat.

The car lurches and bumps, it grinds and roars. From outside, the Yukon’s wheels screech and whine. Then we all rock again as Warrior brakes. There’s a moment’s silence, then a distant, wrenching crunch of metal, far below.

The Emperor relents and doesn’t bind my hands again. He still insists on making me travel under the seat, though.

I call out, “It’s not just so I don’t know where we’re going?”

They all chuckle at that.

“We’d use blindfolds,” Mastermind says.

“I wish I had some blankets or cushions down here. I’m bouncing around pretty hard.”

Mastermind asks me, “How did you decide they were hostile? How did you know that they weren’t your friends? They could have come to rescue you.”

I tell him, “I don’t think you’d usually rescue someone by pointing a shotgun in their face.”

“What I mean is, this morning you were trying to break out and get away. What made you suddenly ready to stay with our side?”

“I don’t know,” I say, “All I’ve got right now is instinct.”

I ask, “So what is the story here? If you’re just holding me for fun, to keep me as a plaything, you’re taking it all pretty seriously.”

“Hmm.” Mastermind says, “That is definitely the most tempting idea I heard all day.”

He and the Emperor laugh in a way that sends chills through me.