Firestorm: Book III of the Wildfire Saga (56 page)

BOOK: Firestorm: Book III of the Wildfire Saga
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"SAS," Reginald said.
 
"Bloody hell."

Automatic gunfire and another explosion echoed through the window.
 
Reginald had seen enough.
 
He pulled Anna-Maria through the doorway and shouted over his shoulder, "Lock down the keep!
 
Call up the reserves—and send word to our forces in town!"

Reginald did not wait to hear confirmation of his orders as he led Anna-Maria down a side hallway.
 
Another explosion echoed through the keep's thick walls. The floor trembled and the lights flickered.
 
Reginald glanced nervously above him at the stone ceiling as bits of dust and stone dropped onto his head.
 

"My dear, you may wish to remove your shoes—you'll be able to run faster in bare feet."

Anna-Maria kicked off one Le Bouton and reached down to unstrap the other.
 
"Where are we going?"

Reginald turned at the sound of shouted voices and tensed, his hand on the grip of the pistol at his back before he recognized his own security forces barrel around the corner to take up positions at exterior doors.
 
"There are certain delicate files that need to go with us.
 
We need to meet Jayne."

Anna-Maria adjusted the voluminous dress draped over her.
 
"Files?
 
We need to get out of here before this whole castle falls on top of our heads!"

Reginald grimaced, pulling her further down the hallway.
 
"This place is stronger than it looks."
 
He glanced over his shoulder.
 
"Despite not having a woman's touch where the interior decorating is concerned, I assure you, my ancestors built this place to withstand anything."

Another explosion rocked the ancient building and brought them both stumbling to their knees.
 
Anna-Maria glared at him as she flipped dusty hair off her face.
 
"I rather doubt your ancestors had modern explosives in mind when they designed the walls."

"Would you care to take your chances back there?" asked Reginald, sweeping his arm back down the hallway.
 
Gunfire erupted toward his study.
 
He looked down at her impatiently and extended his hand.
 
"I don't know about you, but I'd prefer to leave.
 
Now."

He smiled as her grimy hand tilted itself into his and he pulled her up.
 
Before he could say anything further, she reached up, grabbed the back of his head and kissed him passionately on the lips.

As they broke for air, the castle shuddering around them, she whispered, "Get me out of this alive, and I'll make it worth your while."

Reginald turned to leave.
 
"I take it your answer is yes?"

She grabbed her shoes and ran beside him, her bare feet slapping at the smooth stone floor.
 
"Get me out of here first!" she said with a smile.

"We shall honeymoon in Fiji!" he called, hopping over rubble from a partially collapsed side wall.
 
"Away from all this—"

Out of the smoke that partially obscured the end of the hallway, a figure clad all in black emerged like a shade escaped from Hell itself.
 
At a glance, Reginald saw he carried a varied assortment of weapons: a pistol on the hip, a bandoleer of ammunition pouches and grenades, a backpack full of God knows what, and goggles—six tubes of black eyes—strapped to the fellow's face.
 
A nightmare come to life.
 

"Well, I'm glad to see I can still make people smile," said a deep voice with a Texas drawl.

"Who are you?" Anna-Maria snapped imperiously.

"U.S. Navy SEALs—drop your weapon.
 
You two are coming with me."

God damn bloody SEALs.
 
I knew I shouldn't have trusted the bloody Koreans.
 
Incompetent fools certainly bollocksed things in San Diego.
 
"You're supposed to be dead."

The man laughed.
 
"Too stubborn to die, I guess.
 
Now drop the weapon before I drop you."
 

Reginald clenched his jaw as the figure moved closer.
 
No chance of successfully drawing his pistol and getting off a shot before the wraith in front of him pulled his own trigger.
 
He clenched his fists in frustration.
 

In my own home, no less.
 
The indignity of it all.

Someone screamed down the corridor behind him and a tremendous explosion shook the entire castle.
 
Reginald had time to see fire brightening the world before his face rushed forward to kiss the harsh stone wall to his left.
 
Everything descended into a queasy mix of fire and darkness, with
 
woman screaming over distant gunfire.

C
HAPTER
44

Skye, Scotland.

Dunkeith Castle.

C
OOPER
BLINKED
BEFORE
BRUSHING
the dust off his face.
 
He blindly reached through the dense smoke, his hands stumbling over rocks and bits of gear.
 
A sharp, stabbing pain from his right thigh brought his fuzzy senses back into sharp focus.
 
Cooper groaned as he rolled on his side, gritting his teeth as the fire spread up his leg.

Bits of rubble fall from his back.
 
"Check in…" he grunted.

Charlie coughed.
 
"The fuck was that?"

"Jax?" asked Cooper as he struggled to his feet, grimacing in pain.
 
He blinked again and looked around, but saw no sign of the Texan.
 
Cooper looked back down the hallway.
 
Deserted.
 
The hallway ended in a cavernous blackness.
 
He, Charlie, and Jax had breached the rear of the keep and emerged into what looked like ruins.
 
They followed a long corridor lit with sputtering torches before suddenly emerging into a section of the castle that had seen at least something of a restoration.
 
They'd only had to neutralize three guards along the way.

Before long, they'd passed locked storerooms leading to a fully lit corridor, complete with paintings on the plastered walls.
 
A dense, red carpet runner lined the floor, trimmed with gold thread.
 
The doors along this hallway had little brass nameplates nailed to them.

"Jax!" Cooper hissed.
 
The hallway before him ended in a pile of rubble and crushed rock.
 
He squinted into the dust and saw the ceiling had caved in at the junction where Jax had disappeared just after spotting the HVT.

Reginald.
 
He was right there!

Charlie forged ahead climbing through the knee-deep pile of rocks, bricks, and mortar.
 
"Jax!
 
Come in!"
 
He scrambled up the pile and pulled down bits of debris from the top.

Cooper turned and aimed his rifle down the hallway into the darkness.
 
"Anything?" he asked over his shoulder.

"Negative," said Charlie's clipped voice.
 
"There's too much debris—I can't get through.
 
Jax!"
 
Charlie yelled.
 
"I can't see anything!
 
Are you there?
 
Jax!
"

Cooper heard the rubble shift behind him and Charlie scampered down as more debris tumbled down out of the ceiling.
 
"You got anything?" he asked.

Cooper scanned his wrist pad.
 
"Damn thing's busted."
 
Cooper checked his radio.
 
"Overwatch, how copy?"

After a moment of crackling static, the sniper's voice emerged in Cooper's ear.
 
"
I got you, Hoss.
 
What the hell is going on down there?
"

"Might ask you the same thing.
 
What was that?"

"One of the drones was just shot down.
 
It crashed into the base of the keep."

"Well, that explains that…" muttered Charlie.

"Our friends are pressing the home team hard.
 
Outer walls breached, but the defenders are putting up a fight.
 
I'm picking off any that step out, but it looks like things are settling into a stalemate for now."

"Roger that," muttered Cooper.
 
He glanced at Charlie.
 
"It'll only be a matter of time before the son of a bitch gets more reinforcements.
 
We're on his turf—we gotta move."

"We can't leave Jax.
 
Not without knowing."

Cooper cursed and kicked a rock at his feet.
 
"You know the layout of this place as well as I do.
 
You go through that door and I'll go through this door.
 
If 13's maps are accurate, we should meet in the hallway on the other side of this blockage.
 
Ready?"

Charlie frowned.
 
"I don't like splitting up."

"I don't either, but we don't have much of a choice.
 
The clock's ticking."
 
Cooper checked his rifle and dropped in a fresh magazine.
 
He yanked back on the charging bolt and slipped the half-empty magazine into a pouch on his chest rig.
 
"If his history is any indicator, Reginald's gonna be slipping out of here any minute.
 
I can't let this son of a bitch get away again."

Charlie nodded, his face a ghostly gray under a thin layer of dust.
 
"Roger that—let's move."

Cooper clapped Charlie on the shoulder, sending up a cloud of dust, then turned him toward the door to the right.
 
Cooper turned to the left.
 
"On three.
 
One, two, three!"

They kicked the doors open at the same time. Cooper charged into a blackened room.
 
"Going green," he muttered as he snapped down his night vision goggles.
 
The world flickered and came to life in greens and blacks.
 
He knew he would lose his depth perception, but with power in the castle unreliable, he hoped it would give him enough of an advantage to find Reginald.

Cooper crept through another empty storeroom, glancing over boxes and crates with labels such as 'Green Room', 'Grand Hall', and 'Study'.
 
It looked like nothing had been touched in there for a generation.
 
He crept closer to the far exit and froze when a light appeared on the other side of the heavy wooden door.
 

A shadow rushed past, and the light winked off again.
 
Cooper's hand gripped the doorknob, and he turned it as slow as possible.
 
When he was sure the bolt had passed the striker plate, he pulled the door open and quickly stepped through, cornering the room beyond.

Cooper found himself in one of the unmarked rooms on 13's map.
 
She knew they existed, but not what they contained.
 
He glanced around, his night vision picking up flickers of light flashing off metal all around him.
 
He let out a low, quiet whistle.
 

"Found some sort of antique arms storeroom.
 
You wouldn't believe the number of swords and shit they got in here…" he muttered.

"I'm in a storeroom—this guy's stocked up for years.
 
Approaching the door to the hallway."

Cooper looked left and found an open door leading down the dark hallway.
 
A light flickered at the end of the hallway, causing a flare to spike in Cooper's vision.
 

Where did you go?

The hallway ended in a single door, partially blocked by another cave in.
 
No threat from that quarter.
 

He turned and brought his rifle to bear on the door to the right, slightly ajar.
 
Whoever the hell had been in here had gone through that door.
 
He approached the door and half-crouched, clenching his teeth at the throb of pain shooting up his leg with every step.
 
The dive suit was undamaged, but he was afraid to think what his leg must look like underneath.
 
For the first time, he noticed he was sweating.

Not good.
 
We gotta get Jax, get the HVT, and get the fuck outta here before I pass out and bleed to death.

Cooper opened the door with his left hand and stepped sideways into a long hallway.
 
The lights flickered again at the far end.
 
When the light was out, he saw movement—someone poked a head around the corner down there.

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