Hard Knocks (38 page)

The question was, was she the intended target, or was I?

The rest of the students milled about, abruptly lost and directionless. Eventually it was Figgis who went round collecting up the SIGs for return to the armoury. It was only at this point that he realised we were one missing. Student plus firearm, that is.

“Has anyone seen Miss King?” Figgis asked, anxious.

No one answered. I cast back. Jan had been there on the terrace, listening unashamedly to my exchange with Elsa and she’d been behind me in the queue when the SIGs were handed out.

Then I’d seen her expertly manhandling Declan in the next but one lane to mine. The next lane but one to the
left
, I recalled. Mind you, Romundstad had been positioned on that side of me, too, as had Hofmann.

I allowed my gaze to skim over both men. Romundstad was still looking dazed, but Hofmann’s expression was harder to read. Grim, masked. If I’d had to put an emotion on him at that moment, I would have gone for a deep and abiding anger.

The Major finished his phone call and started organising us into search parties, claiming that Jan might have wandered off suffering from shock. It was clear he didn’t believe this supposition any more than we did, but none of us felt inclined to stand around and argue the point with him.

I started off with the others, but Gilby called me back.

“You were closest to Frau Schmitt,” he said. “Perhaps you have some idea what might have happened?”

But before I could answer Figgis came running from the direction of the armoury. He wasn’t a natural athlete, his anatomy more suited to being behind the wheel of a car than on his feet. The sight of his ungainly frame at full pelt was all the more alarming because of that.

“Sir,” he said breathlessly to Gilby as he reached us, his face ashen, “I think you’d better come quickly. There’s something you need to see.”

The Major shot Figgis a daggered glance and let out his breath in an annoyed spurt. “What is it man?” he snapped.

Figgis’s long face screwed into discomfort. His eyes flipped from Gilby, to Sean, to me, and back again. He all but shuffled his feet.

“Well sir—” He stopped, but decided there was no other way of saying it, regardless of who might be listening in. “It’s the boy, sir,” he blurted then. “He’s gone.”

This time the Major didn’t exclude me from his war cabinet. He would have had a fight on his hands if he’d tried.

So, I found myself back in the same chair in his study that I’d taken after Venko’s departure. Was it really only a few hours ago? At least, I realised, my body seemed to be aching less than it had done then. I was either working through the stiffness, or I was going numb.

“Well I still don’t like it,
sir
,” Todd said on a growl. “It seems a mite too convenient that
he
arrives, and the next moment the kid’s snatched from under our noses.” He glared, taking in both Sean and me in the same sweep. “How do we know we can trust either of them?”

“We don’t have a choice – not now,” Gilby said. He was slumped in his chair behind the desk. Defeat gave him a sulky air.

Figgis and O’Neill were sitting on the far side of the room, as though trying to put distance between us. Sean was standing leaning against the wall by the window. He’d never liked to sit when there was something going on. It was the only give-away to his inner restlessness, but anyone who didn’t know him would not have doubted his calm at this moment.

I studied the thoughtful set of his face, trying to read what was revolving behind those liquid dark eyes. It wasn’t easy.

Despite everything that had happened since, I couldn’t help myself going back to our last conversation. I sweated at the realisation that I’d thrown down an ultimatum, a take-it-or-leave-it flat choice, to a man who wouldn’t be bullied or cajoled into making any decision. Had I blown it?

I looked away, flushed with a sudden guilt that I could be wondering about my relationship with Sean amid all this chaos and bloodshed. The truth was, I couldn’t help it. I craved some small sign of his acceptance of my past, my failings, like an addict craves the reassuring twist of foil. Logic just didn’t come into it.

Sean had his arms folded again, those long fingers resting lightly against his own skin. He and I had washed Elsa’s blood off our hands, literally if not metaphorically. She’d been whisked off to the nearest hospital with brisk efficiency. Although the paramedics who’d attended the scene hadn’t seemed unduly worried by the severity of the wound, it could just have been part of their act. As yet, there was no word of her condition.

We’d searched the immediate area both for Jan and for Ivan Venko long after the light had gone and darkness had come down cold and hard. Just before eight o’clock, Gilby had called a halt and we’d stumbled back to the Manor for hot showers and hot food. We’d found nothing out there in any case. In reality, we hadn’t expected to.

It transpired that the Major had been keeping Ivan in a small room, almost a cell, behind the back wall of the indoor range. He seemed to have had no qualms about the effect our barrage of gunshots must have had on the boy’s psychological well-being every time we’d fired in there. Gilby appeared to think that obeying the basic Geneva Convention rules of food, water and no actual physical cruelty had been luxury enough for the son of Gregor Venko.

And now he was gone. I still couldn’t believe that Jan had done it. Not just that she seemed to have stolen Ivan away, but that she’d cold-bloodedly shot Elsa to provide enough of a distraction while she did it. I was convinced, as we all were, that it hadn’t been an accident.

The worst of it was that I’d never suspected her for a moment. After all, she’d been with Elsa in the dormitory the night I’d had my run-in with Rebanks at the armoury. Or had she? Why wouldn’t Elsa have told me if she’d been out of the room as well? And then I remembered her exact words. “
Both Charlie and Jan have been to the bathroom
,”she’d said.
Surely she couldn’t have failed to notice?

Now, Gilby’s men were discussing the possibility, which we couldn’t ignore, that Jan had been working for Gregor from the start. But if so, why wait until now to snatch the boy?

“Maybe she couldn’t find him before,” Figgis suggested, adding pointedly, “After all, sir, you only told
us
at lunchtime where you’d put him.”

“Yes,” Gilby said sharply, “and soon after I do, he disappears. What am I supposed to make of that?”

Figgis’s long face hardened, his limbs contracting as he made to rise from his chair. Sean moved across and put a placatory hand on his shoulder.

“There is always the chance that she’d known for a while where Ivan was,” he said. “Ever since Charlie discovered Rebanks’s little sideline and was ambushed doing so. That could be why Jan set the alarm off,” he added to me, “to stop you finding him, which is what she must have assumed you were after.”

“Wait a minute,” Todd snapped. He looked disgustedly from Sean, to Gilby, to me, and back again, as though someone was playing a joke on him, one that was not in the best taste. “You’re never telling me that
she
was the one who clouted Rebanks, but—”

“I’m afraid so,” Gilby said. He paused and gave me his own assessing stare, as though he couldn’t quite believe it, either. “She’s a tough little bitch,” he said then. His tone was dispassionate, as though I was a dog he was thinking of breeding from. Only the slightest smile spilled over. “You have to give her that.”

“I rather feel that a discussion of Charlie’s undoubted abilities is beside the point,” Sean said, managing to pass me half a smile of his own as he did so. “Finding out who Jan was working for is a bit more important right now.”

“Why?” Gilby demanded bitterly. “It’s obvious Miss King was working for Gregor Venko. He agrees the exchange, then breaks his word.” He reached for the generous glass of brandy he’d poured as soon as we’d all adjourned to the study. I eyed the rate he was knocking it back with no small measure of alarm. “I should have known I couldn’t trust the man,” he muttered. “Scum of the earth.”

“You’re overlooking another possibility, of course,” Sean said quietly. “That Jan could be working for the German security services.”

Gilby’s head came up, surprise dusting across his face. “But we had an agreement!” he said. “They gave me their word.” He fell silent, seeming to realise the similarities of what he’d just said with his comments on Gregor.

Sean saw his hesitation and went for it, moving in to the desk. “Major, I deal with security services around the world all the time and most of them would sell their own grandmothers if they thought it was to their advantage to do so. What makes you think this mob are going to stick to anything after the event? And anyway, what are you going to do about it if they don’t? You’re not even a German national.”

“No, but Dieter is,” Gilby said immediately. “One with influence. If this cock-up
does
turn out to be down to the security services and anything happens to Heidi, Dieter will make waves from here to Bonn. Of that you can be quite certain.”

Sean let his breath out hard and slammed his hands onto the desktop, making us all jump. It was a calculated display of temper rather than the real thing, just to get the Major’s attention. Sean leaned in to the other man’s face. “You’re talking about repercussions, Major,” he said tightly. “What we need now is a plan of action. You’re going to have to evacuate this place for a start. Get all the civilians out of here.”

Gilby almost snorted. “What does that leave me with?”

“Fewer hostages for a start,” Sean shot back.

“But what do I tell the students?” Gilby’s voice was almost plaintive. His authority seemed to have dulled to grey, like an old shirt one time too many through a mixed wash.

Sean stood up straight, stepped back as though he’d lose his temper for real if he didn’t put some distance between the two of them. “Tell them there’s going to be an investigation over the shooting,” he said. “Tell them what you like. What does it matter?”

“You could always tell them the truth,” I said.

Gilby threw me an acid glance. “And what does that gain me, precisely?”

I shrugged. “You’ve got a good bunch of people out there,” I said, undeterred. “They may not be quite up to the standard you’re used to,” I couldn’t resist a sideways look to the three instructors as I said it, “but they still have a lot of valuable experience between them. Tell them the truth and you never know, some of them might decide to stay.”

I stood, unable to sit and do nothing any longer, and looked down at the Major. “Let’s face it,” I said, “at this stage you need all the help you can get.”

Todd rose also, muscled his way into the Major’s line of sight. “What about Rebanks? He’s a useful man and he’s probably the best shot we’ve got.”

I caught the flicker of the Major’s eyes in my direction, and knew he was remembering that day on the CQB range, but he didn’t point that out to the stocky phys instructor.

“How can I rely on him when he was cheating me so flagrantly?” he said instead. He wouldn’t meet anyone’s gaze as he admitted, “Besides, he might also have been involved with Teddy Blakemore’s death.”

“There’s one way to find out,” Sean said, impatient now. “Ask him.”

From the other side of the room I heard O’Neill swear under his breath. “You’re serious aren’t you?” he said. “What makes you think for a moment that he’ll tell you the truth.”

The look Sean passed over the Irishman was cold and flat. “I don’t know,” he said. “Does he enjoy pain?”

***

Gilby led the way down to the cellars. There was a doorway under the curving staircase that I’d always assumed was a store cupboard. It turned out that it dropped straight down a set of stone steps that were rough almost to the point of being crude in their construction. The architects of the Manor had not wasted their talents on finesse for an area they only ever expected the servants to see.

Once we were down a level, the Major moved off confidently along a narrow corridor, snapping on unshielded light bulbs as he went. Most of the men had to duck to avoid sending them swinging, but I didn’t have that problem.

Several generations of wiring additions were clipped to the bare walls and our feet crunched on years of dust and grit on the stone floor. It was a grim place, full of foreboding. I couldn’t resist the urge to keep checking behind me, making sure I could recognise the way out when the time came.

Eventually the Major paused by a small heavy wooden door, secured by an iron bolt that was so decorated it was almost ornamental. He shot it back, pushed the door open, and stepped through.

Inside the cellar, Rebanks was sitting on an unmade camp bed wedged up against the back wall. He half came to his feet when Gilby walked in, but when he saw the other three instructors, then Sean and me, he dropped back again. His eyes had panic in them, but he put on a good show of being unconcerned.

He looked small and scruffy, unshaven so that he’d sprouted the beginnings of a ginger beard that didn’t suit his narrow face. There was a big livid bruise across his throat and when he spoke his voice was rusty with it.