Simon Hawke - The Zenda Vendetta

She examined the pipe to see how it was fastened over the window. She could not tell. She tried a gentle shove at it, then she tried again, more firmly. It would not move. It had to be attached somehow from inside. It would be a simple matter to cut through it with her laser. The grate across the window could be taken care of in the same way. She licked her lips anxiously. The thought of that poor man sobbing in the darkness made her want to do it at once, but she steeled herself against the temptation. Now was not the time and she was not the one to do it. Besides, getting the king out of the castle would be the very least of their problems. At any rate, now Finn would know where Rudolf was being held.

She looked all around her carefully, noting every detail of her surroundings. Immediately on the other side of the pipe, there was a section of protruding stone wall. Beyond it, an expanse of moat and the drawbridge. There was a lighted window some fifteen to twenty feet above her. She looked still higher. The wall was straight and smooth all the way up to the tower until, near the top, a small turret stuck out from it. No, not a turret, but a balcony of sorts, shaped like a turret, but open on the front and sides. She breathed in sharply as she saw that someone was standing on the balcony, looking down at her.

She heard a soft, coughing sound and in the next instant, felt a tremendous blow to her left shoulder. It knocked her to her knees and almost over the side of the small boat. She dropped the oar. She clapped a hand to her shoulder and felt the flow of blood. She also felt the blunt end of a nysteel dart, the tip of which had penetrated through her skin and deep into the bone. There was a line attached to it.

She cried out as she was yanked out of the boat to rise quickly through the air as the nysteel line retracted with a soft whirring sound. She was being reeled in like a fish. The moat seemed to drop away beneath her and in the next moment, she felt a strong arm encircling her neck, dragging her over the side of the balcony. She lost consciousness.

Forrester shook Lucas hard. “Take it easy! Lucas, damn it, relax!”

“I can’t believe it! I just can’t fucking believe it! They got her and I just stood here and watched!”

“I was here, too, remember? There was nothing we could do. We didn’t even have a shot. She went up so fast that if we tried to burn the line, we might’ve burned her, instead.”

Lucas gritted his teeth. “Christ! They just harpooned her! What if she’s dead? What if that rappelling dart severed an artery?”

“Then she’s dead,” said Forrester. “Stop blaming yourself. There was nothing you could do.”

Lucas clenched his fists. “She must have broken a beam or something. I was a fool not to consider that. Dammit! Now what do we do?”

“We wait. If she isn’t dead, it’ll be in their interest to keep her alive. They’ll want to question her. And they’ll want to keep her alive to make sure we try to get her back. If we’re lucky, she’ll have a chance to drop the remote somewhere before they discover it on her.”

“And if we’re not lucky, then they’ll be smart enough to search her first and then we’ll be clocking right into a trap.”

“So we take the chance,” said Forrester. “That’s what we’re paid for.”

Lucas shook his head, calming himself down with an effort. “No.”

“What do you mean, no?” said Forrester. “Damn it, Lucas-”

“Are you taking over command of the adjustment?” Lucas said, in a level tone.

Forrester stared at him fixedly. “No, Major. It’s your play. You’re in command.”

“Right. Then we split up. That way, if it’s a trap, they won’t get both of us. One of us homes in on the remote and clocks in blind. The other goes in from outside, the hard way.”

“You sure that’s the hard way?”

“You have any preference?” Lucas said.

Forrester’s lips were tight. “It’s my son we’re up against,” he said grimly. “If there are any chances to be taken, I’m the one to take them. I’ll clock in blind. What the hell, I’m technically A.W.O.L. anyway. If I survive, I’ll probably be facing a court martial when I get back. No point to risking my second-in-command, as well.”

“Moses-”

“What?”

Lucas took Forrester by the upper arms in a strong grip. “Friend to friend,” he said. “Don’t allow yourself to feel guilty. That’s what she wants.”

“I know,” said Forrester.

“You hesitated once and a man died,” said Lucas.

“Damn you.”

“Drakov made his own choices,” Lucas said. “Would Vanna have approved of them?”

“Back off, Major,” Forrester said, tensely. “I know what I have to do.”

“I wouldn’t have thought you to be the sentimental type,” said Lucas harshly, “but you’ve shown me a side of you I hadn’t seen before. You knew what you had to do when S amp; R found you and you didn’t do it. If your little playmate had been given an abortion, none of us might be in this mess.”

Forrester grabbed Lucas by the shirt front with one hand and drew back his fist. He hesitated.

“See what I mean?” said Lucas. “Go on, Moses. Hit me. Think it’ll help?”

Forrester let him go and turned away, fighting to get himself under control. Finally, with a note of forced calm in his voice, he said, “I know what you’re trying to do, Priest. I can even appreciate it. Just the same, when we get back from this, I’m going to take you apart.”

“Just hold onto that thought,” said Lucas.

Forrester turned to face him, his face expressionless. “Count on it, Major.”

“I have never seen anything like it,” Hentzau told Bersonin. “I tell you, Karl, he was beaten senseless!”

The lanky mercenary gave Hentzau a highly dubious look. “And you think the countess did it?”

“She did it, for a fact,” said Hentzau. “Go and see for yourself if you do not believe me. Look at her hands. Her knuckles are cut from knocking out his teeth. Evidently, Michael had the temerity to strike her. She took her pound of flesh, I can tell you. The coach is spattered with his blood.”

“Really, Rupert,” said Bersonin, smiling as if his leg was being pulled, “you expect me to believe that a mere woman-”

“A mere woman who can handle a sabre better than many men I’ve met,” said Hentzau. “I tell you, she’s an animal! God, she’s absolutely magnificent!”

“You must be mad.”

“Mad, am I? Well, we shall see who’s mad. We shall see who calls the tune from now on, Michael or Sophia. You wouldn’t care to place a little wager?”

“I think-”

He was interrupted by Falcon entering the hall. She had changed from her evening gown to a riding costume that lacked only the jacket. She wore a white lace shirt and waistcoat of black leather, tight black breeches and high black boots. She was pulling on her gloves as she came in. Her ash-blonde hair was pulled back, and she had removed all of her makeup.

“Where is Albert Lauengram?” she asked Bersonin, crisply.

“Just one moment, Countess,” said Bersonin, somewhat patronizingly. “First, there are a few questions which-”

“I shall ask the questions, Karl, and you shall provide the answers. Now, where is Lauengram?”

“I think you presume a bit too much, Madame,” Bersonin said, in a tone of rebuke. Hentzau watched this interplay with a faint smile upon his face. “I take no orders from you.”

“And I will take no insolence from you, Karl. Now, I shall ask you only one more time. Where is Lauengram?”

Bersonin glanced at Hentzau and smirked. “I follow Michael Elphberg,” he said, “not his concubine.”

Her eyes seemed to flare. “Really? In that case, you are no more use to me than Michael is. Your sword, Rupert.”