Ghost of Christmas Past (4 page)

He heard
Luke’s grunts and turned to watch two assailants ambush his
colleague in the corridor. He moved forward to lend a hand but was
immediately accosted himself by the two thugs who burst out of his
room behind him and lunged at him with big, beefy fists.

He
ducked his head to avoid a wildly swinging fist and grunted under
the weight of the unseen second man who threw one beefy arm around
his shoulders. The heavy pressure on his back was impossible to
fight and there was little Rupert could do except claw at the arm
across his throat in an attempt to get the man to loosen his hold
so that he could breathe. As the seconds ticked by he struggled to
draw breath and the outer edges of his vision began to blur, but
not enough so that he was rendered blind to his assailant’s
accomplice.

As soon
as the man drew close, Rupert used the weight of the thug behind
him as leverage and lifted both boots off the ground. He landed a
well-placed kick squarely in his middle of the charging man’s
forehead and watched as his head snapped back with a dull crunch
and he fell to the floor without a murmur.

Pleased
that at least one man was down, Rupert turned his attention to the
attacker whose hold he couldn’t break. Rupert was tall, heavily
built and strong, but even he was no match for the oaf behind him
who was simply huge. He attempted to use the man’s weight against
him, and pushed his feet against the wall with all of his might in
a desperate attempt to try to get the man to stagger backward. He
cursed fluidly when the oaf didn’t budge, or even grunt. Instead,
his attacker’s warm, fetid breath brushed across Rupert’s cheek as
he panted with the exertion of keeping himself upright while
holding his quarry. Stars began to appear behind his eyes and
Rupert knew that he didn’t have long. In a macabre dance for life,
he stomped down on the booted foot so close to his own and was
rewarded with a satisfying crunch. The man’s hold immediately
loosened and it was enough for Rupert, who was taller, fitter and
considerably more agile to take advantage of the momentary
distraction.

Although
the man’s arm had loosened enough for Rupert to move, it hadn’t
disappeared completely. He ducked his head and sank his teeth into
the beefy flesh beneath his chin at the same time that he drew the
man’s arm away from his chest. Rupert twisted around as he stepped
to one side and kept a firm hold on the man’s arm so that he could
propel his attacker’s heavy girth forward. As he passed, Rupert
placed his boot on the man’s backside to increase his speed, and
watched the heavy man land face down on the bed with a bone jarring
thud.

The loud
retort of a gun out in the hallway broke Rupert’s concentration,
but he knew better than to take his eyes of the winded man before
him.

“
Luke!”

“
Here,” his colleague mumbled. Whatever he was doing outside
was taking considerable effort because his friend’s usually calm
and unflappable demeanour was charged with a deep disgust. “One
down,” he growled. His report was enough to encourage Rupert to
redouble his own efforts to end his confrontation with the big man
on the bed.

He was
fairly certain that his attackers were Dubois, and the second, now
unconscious, assailant at his feet was Laurent because of the
language the man before him was gasping. That being the case, where
were his colleagues? Was Guerin still in the cottage across the
square? If he was, that meant that the coachman was Jacques
Fornier. If so, who was attacking Luke in the corridor?

The big
man on the bed suddenly rolled over. The feral grin on his bilious
face was partially blocked by the barrel of the gun that was
pointed straight at Rupert’s head. He ducked the bullet that
whizzed past his ear and felt the fine shower of plaster explode
around him as he threw himself onto the floor. He immediately
lunged to his feet again and, rather than risk fighting the heavy
weight of the much bigger man, Rupert drew his own gun.

“
Put it down,” he growled and motioned silently for the man to
drop his weapon over the end of the bed, far away from his
unconscious accomplice on the floor.

“
Here, what’s going on?” A loud voice called from somewhere
down the corridor.

“
Shut up and get back into your room man,” Luke growled amid
thumps and grunts. His battle continued to rage with determined
ferocity, but was fuelled by the anger that swept through him as he
realised just how close he had come to getting his head blown off.
He glared balefully at the inn keeper who watched the fight in his
hallway for several moments. “Wait!” Luke grunted as he dodged a
fist. “Go and get help. These are French spies and have to be
arrested.”

He knew
that his assailant, Laurent, had understood every word and watched
a sinister snarl fall over his opponent’s angular face. Luke didn’t
bother to look to see if the inn keeper had left to carry out his
orders. He knew from the sound of the heavy footsteps on the stairs
that the owner of the tavern had rushed off to find help.
Unfortunately, Luke knew that there was very little assistance to
be found in the inn. The regular drinkers had gone home hours ago,
and there was nobody else on the upper floor of the tavern because
Rupert had secured the entire floor for the men from the Star
Elite. It was going to take the inn keeper several minutes to run
to the nearby houses and find someone who would be of any use; even
if he could wake them up.

“
You may as well give up, Laurent, there is nowhere you can go
now,” Luke growled. He knew that Rupert was engaged in his own
fight for survival inside his room, but Luke was at a distinct
disadvantage because he was out in the open hallway. Anyone could
creep up the stairs and take him out without Luke even being aware
of their arrival. He daren’t take his attention off Laurent, not
even for a second. Although the man’s gun had been discharged, Luke
was aware of the wicked looking blade that Laurent had tucked in
his boot. He cursed and dodged the charging Frenchman, and listened
to the loud bangs that came from inside Rupert’s room.

Rupert
heard Luke order someone to get help but knew that it was a futile
request. Even if someone did wade into the fray, they would be in
incredible danger. Dubois may be fat, but he was ruthless and knew
how to use his weight to overpower his victims. He also knew that
his gun was now useless and so dutifully dropped it over the side
of the bed as Rupert instructed. The clatter of the metal barrel
against the wooden floor was loud within the square room but its
presence on the floor did little to assure Rupert that he was
winning the fight. Dubois had a knife secreted on him somewhere, of
that there could be no doubt.

“
Stand up.” He motioned with his gun for Dubois to get to his
feet. “Turn around.”

Dubois
merely smiled and revealed a blackened row of almost non-existent
teeth that was the reason for the man’s fetid breath.

Rupert
heaved a sigh when the Frenchman made no attempt to comply with the
last instruction. “I know you can understand me. Your English has
been taught well.”

“
You cannot stop us,” Dubois smirked arrogantly in perfect
English. His heavy jowls wobbled as he spoke in a thick French
accent. “There are more of us than you think.”

“
Dubois, you and I both know that your chain of command has
collapsed. That is why you are here in this nondescript little
place. Beaulieu, Petit, Moureau and Legrand are all now dead.
Rousseau is languishing in jail and as for your associate here,
well, let’s just say that if this is the best the French have to
offer there can be little wonder why we have closed you down as
easily as we have. The game is over, Dubois. The sooner you accept
that, the better it will be for your future chances of survival.”
He sighed as though he was bored, but it was a theatrical gesture
that was completely at odds with the tension that really thrummed
through him. “Now, I am tired, hungry and want to go to bed. I am
sure that even you will understand when I tell you to hurry up and
make your choice whether I shoot you here and now, or cart you off
to jail. Either way, if you don’t decide soon, I will be left with
no choice but to make the decision for you.”

“
You know nothing about my chain of command.”

“
We know about your safe houses; they are now owned by the
king. We know that your boss recently failed to secure the beach at
Cragdale Manor that you planned to use to get out of the country.
You have very little in the way of funds, and the contacts you have
tried to request assistance from have failed to reply to your
demands. It’s mainly because they are all either dead or in prison
awaiting trial, but it has left you in a rather precarious
position.”

Rupert
knew that he had struck too close to home when the glare Dubois was
giving him turned hateful. Undeterred, Rupert continued. “I am
afraid that whatever happens, you won’t return home to your mother
country.” As he spoke, he wondered what was taking Luke so long to
bring his opponent down and hoped that his colleague hadn’t been
injured. Nevertheless, he kept his attention firmly focused on the
man before him. “We also know that Fornier is around here
someplace.”

“
Fornier is too smart for the likes of you English,” Dubois
boasted. “You are too busy with your bowing and scraping to keep up
with us. We have done what we need to do, all under your very
noses, and you stupid English have not been able to stop
us.”

“
We have been following your trail, Dubois, and have been
gathering information on your network of people from the very day
you stepped onto English soil.” He glanced up and down at the
Frenchman dismissively. “We have done our work well and will not
stop until each one of you is behind bars, or dead, whichever comes
first.”

Although
he kept his voice conversational, he mentally plotted whether to
bring the man down with one shot to the head or disarm him. He
couldn’t lose sight of the knife tucked into the man’s boot but had
to ensure that his shot was an accurate one or he would be left at
a distinct disadvantage if it came to an all-out fight. He didn’t
need to make the decision though because the Frenchman suddenly
lunged forward.

Rupert
instinctively lifted his gun and pulled the trigger. A large red
stain suddenly appeared in the middle of the Frenchman’s chest and
rapidly grew bigger. In slow motion the man looked down at the
gaping hole and topped forward to land on the floor with a heavy
thud.

“
Rupert!”

“
Here,” he called as he carefully stepped over the bodies on
the floor.

In the
corridor, Luke was trading blows with his assailant, Guerin. The
distracted Frenchman didn’t hear Rupert walk up behind him. Rupert
hit him hard on the back of his head with the butt of his now empty
gun and stood back as the man went down without a
murmur.

Luke
immediately dropped to his knees as he battled for air. He hated to
admit it but the fight had been equally matched and could have gone
on for hours if it hadn’t been for Rupert.

“
Thanks,” he muttered and grabbed hold of the hand Rupert held
out to haul him to his feet.

Assured
that his colleague was now safe, Rupert collected his meagre
belongings from his room and closed the door on the two dead
bodies. In the hallway, he stood beside Luke and studied the two
men at their feet. Guerin, and the unknown accomplice, were going
to have very sore heads when they woke up, but at least they were
still alive and had useful information Sir Hugo would be able to
prise out of them.

CHAPTER
THREE

They were
deciding how to bind the men when the inn keeper returned with half
a dozen men. They charged up the stairs with as much stealth as a
herd of cattle, brandishing everything from rakes to hunting
rifles. They slammed to a halt at the top of the stairs and looked
a little deflated that they had been denied their moment to shine
as they took in the scene in the hallway.

“
We need your upmost discretion on this,” Rupert warned and
issued each man with a look that warned them they were expected to
comply. Not one of them appeared to be a day younger than fifty,
but they were old enough and wise enough to understand the gravity
of the situation and seemed willing to allow Rupert and Luke to
issue the orders.

“
There are two bodies in there,” Luke warned with a nod toward
Rupert’s room.

“
Who are you?” The inn keeper demanded as he held his gun at
the ready.

“
We work for his majesty’s government,” Rupert replied. “These
men are Frenchmen who are here to spy on us.”

As if on
cue, Guerin chose that moment to start to wake up. His mumbles were
distinctly French, and supported Rupert’s attempts to gain the
co-operation of the disgruntled villagers.

“
We need to get these two bound and downstairs,” Rupert
informed the group. He nudged the unknown accomplice with his
booted foot. “This one is injured and needs his head binding. There
is a fourth one around here somewhere so watch your backs.” He
turned to the inn keeper. “I am sorry for the mess in the room back
there but there was little we could do. We will of course help tidy
it up if you have somewhere to store the bodies.”