Tim Stevens - Severance Kill

He advanced the view, passing through an arched gateway. Roamed paved and cobbled paths, noted trees, manicured lawns, assorted sculptures and statues.

She stopped him. it pedoteHere. The Devil’s Stone. This is where the exchange is set to take place. Deep enough in the park to be away from the entrance. It’ll give my people an opportunity to cut off the exit points.’

‘How many are there?’

‘Two. Tabor Gate in the southeast corner, the Brick Gate in the north.’

‘I meant how many of your men are there?’

Again the pause, as if on principle the truth ought to be withheld.

‘Twelve.’

Calvary breathed out slowly. ‘You’ll be outnumbered. Count on it.’

‘We have the advantage when it comes to quality.’

He poked around the site, ranging through the park. Noting the perimeter.

‘What time is it?’

She indicated the screen. ‘That clock’s accurate.’

Nine twenty p.m. He’d been in the cellar for close on eleven hours, most of those spent unconscious. He wondered where Nikola was. Whether she’d made it out of the hospital.

‘When’s the exchange?’

‘One a.m., provisionally. I’m waiting for my men to scout the location and get in place. And for the item you requested to arrive. Once we’re there, you notify Blazek.’

He gazed back at the screen. On the western aspect of the castle complex, beyond the perimeter wall, lay the river.

*

The man emerged from the shadows without warning, as though part of the scenery had suddenly detached itself. He was short, whip-lean, his face all hard planes and angles. His left eye socket was covered with a patch. He extended a hand.

‘Voronin.’

Krupina had read the brief biography she’d been sent. He was former Spetsnaz , special forces. A captain. Distinguished service in Chechnya. He was in charge of the reinforcement detail.

His eyes took in Calvary. If he was doubtful about the Englishman’s ability to play his part in what was to come, doubtful of his ability even to stay conscious for long enough, he didn’t show it.

They stood on the cobblestones before the Tabor Gate, Krupina and Calvary and Arkady and Lev, and the new man. A couple out for a late-night stroll glanced over incuriously as they passed. Voronin moved so that his back was to the couple and brought his hand out of the pocket of his greatcoat. He handed the object to Calvary.

To Krupina he said, ‘He knows how to use it?’

‘Yes.’

ust said, ‘Lev remained with her. She watched the three of them pass through the gate, Calvary flanked by Voronin and Arkady. She didn’t know what Calvary had planned, but she doubted he’d make a run for it now. Not with a man on either side of him, not with the park crawling with concealed agents.

Krupina looked at her watch. Eleven fifty.

In ten minutes Calvary would make the call to Blazek, set up the rendezvous for one o’clock. He’d arrive early, of course, believing himself to be clever.

*

A light skein of rain hung from the sky. The path was lamplit and sodden with leaves. A jogger pounded past, not giving them a second look. Ahead loomed a second gate, a Gothic construction, and they passed beneath it.

His eyes roved, taking in the landscape, trying to match it to what he’d seen on the laptop. In the distance, lit up against the night sky, Calvary could see the twin spires of St Peter’s and St Paul’s Church. Looming to the right was St Martin’s Rotunda. They turned left and headed towards the western wall, beyond which the hill dropped steeply towards the river.

The two men on either side of him were silent, Arkady and the new one with the eye patch. Calvary recognised in him the bearing and physique of a special forces soldier. He recalled what Krupina had said, about the quality of her men being a match for Blazek’s superiority in numbers.

Krupina had given him a clean jacket, a little big for him. Into the pocket he’d put the object the soldier had handed him. It weighed heavily against his hip. Earlier Calvary had asked for a gun. The look Krupina gave him had been his answer. It was worth a try, anyway.

They drew nearer to the church. In the middle of a flat stretch of lawn dotted with trees sat an odd construction, three tubular rocks piled up against each other. The Devil’s Stone.

They stopped. Arkady handed him a phone.

‘Make the call.’

*

They came in from the other side, through the Brick Gate. Calvary was propped against the rock structure, bouncing a little on his toes, trying to keep his limbs from seizing up. More than once the burning in his forehead threatened to drop him to the ground and he had to clench his teeth against it, turn it into a tiny bead of agony to be filed away for later.

His watch told him it was forty minutes since he’d made the call. He was alone, and yet not alone: all around, in the darkness beyond the splashes of light from the lamps, he could feel the presence of men skilled in staying hidden for long periods.

There were six, approaching form the direction of the church. It was difficult to make out their features but none of them looked to Calvary like Blazek.

He stood and faced them. Theacey"›y stopped. He saw their heads moving as they glanced about. As though they didn’t believe it would be this easy, Calvary on his own.

He brought his right hand out of his pocket, held up what he had there.

‘You see this?’ he called out in Russian.

Even if they couldn’t quite see it, they would quickly work out what it was.

‘I want to see my friends.’

None of them moved. Slowly, very obviously, Calvary pulled the pin from the grenade and hooked his thumb over the safety lever. He took a few steps forward.

One of the men muttered something over his shoulder. Ten seconds later two stumbling figures were shoved forward. Their hands were fastened behind their backs, and from the sounds they were making Calvary realised they were gagged.

Max and Jakub.

Calvary put a finger to his ear and muttered quietly, nothing that made sense but he wanted to create the impression he was communicating on a hands-free mobile phone. He called, ‘Listen carefully. My friends are going to walk over here to me while you stay where you are. I’m going to untie them. Then they’re going to walk away. Once I get the signal they’re clear, I’ll put the pin back in this thing and you can have me. If you try to obstruct or harm them in any way, I’ll let go of the safety lever and you’ve lost me forever.’

Again a mutter, and a push at Max’s back. The two of them weaved towards Calvary. As they drew closer he could see they had both been roughed up hard.

Calvary walked the remaining distance to the two men. Keeping his eyes on the row of men ten yards behind them, keeping the grenade raised, Akoshe pulled off Jakub’s gag with his left hand. Jakub gasped, his mouth writhing and bloody. He turned and Calvary picked at the cord binding his hands. When the knot was loose enough he pulled his wrists free and immediately set to work releasing Max. Calvary said to them, quietly, ‘You know where you are?’

‘Vysehrad,’ said Jakub thickly.

‘Are you familiar with it?’

‘Yeah.’ Max this time. He was staring at the bandage around Calvary’s head. ‘What — ’

‘Shut up and listen. Lose yourselves in the park. There’s going to be a lot of shooting in a moment. There are Russian agents about, so try to steer clear of them. Get out however you can, but don’t use the exits. Use walls, trees, whatever.’

They stood there, staring at him. He said: ‘Get going, for God’s sake. There’s nothing more you can do here now. Find Nikola. I don’t know where she is’

AkosJakub grabbed Max’s arm. Max stood, undecided, then took off with him. Calvary watched them disappear into the trees.