Hooded Man (67 page)

While he was doing this, his attention divided, Mark felt someone at the side of him. When he turned, a fist glanced across his chin. He stumbled, shocked, snapping out of it just in time to see a bayonet about to be rammed into his chest.

Then the attacking soldier was being struck, with almost as much force as the blow which had taken Mark by surprise. When the soldier looked to see who’d done this, he got a kick in the groin as well. Sophie nodded in satisfaction. Mark smiled at her, and she smiled back.

“We’ve got to get out of here,” he called over to Tate. “Before the castle’s riddled with them. Jack said he would follow. Reverend? Reverend, we need you!”

Tate still looked like he was going to disagree, then at last relented, and the trio made their way towards the path that seemed to have the least amount of troops flooding it.

CHAPTER TWENTY

H
IS PLACE WAS
with the men.

But his mind was also on the women in danger: Mary (who wasn’t dead, no matter what Sophie and Mark had seen), Gwen and Adele.

Her especially.

Since she’d come to the castle, Jack had felt a certain connection with Adele. They’d talked and spent time together. She’d reminded him what it was like to be in the company of an attractive woman. Reminded him there were more things in this world than fighting the bad guys. Just as Mark was protecting Sophie, and Gwen was in Tate’s thoughts, Adele was all he could think about. Where she was, if she was all right, how he could get her out of here. She’d said that she’d at last found a home after all that travelling, and now it was being torn down around her. Jesus, she must be terrified.

Jack paused to dispatch a couple of Russians, dropping and rolling along the floor so that he knocked the feet out from under them; one of his favourite wrestling moves back when he’d been on the circuit. This was usually the place where he’d say, “You’ve just been Jack-Hammered, pal!” but it wasn’t the time for glib remarks. His newfound family was being attacked, being threatened. Being destroyed.

Suddenly, there she was. Adele. Down on the Middle Bailey, soldiers crowding in on her. It looked like she was trying to surrender, but they kept on coming. Jack made to get down there as quickly as possible, but in the end he didn’t need to. Somehow, from somewhere, Adele had acquired a rifle of her own. She swung it around, shooting the Russians dead.

As Jack watched, he saw two of his men come to her aid – he recognised Wilkes and Ferguson – and she spun fast, about to blow them away as well. “Adele, no!” he shouted. “Friendlies!”

She turned to see who was calling, saw it was Jack, then saw the men were there to help. As he hurried to join her, however, his attention shifted to an armoured vehicle that had crested the incline and was now on the bailey itself.

As Jack stood there, he saw the hatch on top open, and a very familiar figure clamber out. If his size hadn’t given him away, then his olive skin certainly did. They’d met once before, over a year ago now. Back then the man had been shot by Bill after Jack had taken a beating from him. He’d often wondered what would have happened in a rematch, and it looked like he was about to find out. Tanek was staring straight at him, and for a second or two it seemed like he’d only ventured out because of Jack. Then Tanek produced his crossbow and shot a couple of Rangers for sheer sport.

Grinding his teeth, Jack made it the rest of the way to the Bailey, hollering as he went: “Come on down, you big ape. We got unfinished business!”

Tanek grinned, aiming the crossbow at Jack. Then he placed it on top of the AFV and reached inside the vehicle. He pulled out what looked like a large metal spear, about the same size as Jack’s staff.

The olive-skinned man hopped down, and swatted away another one of the castle’s fighters with the pike. Jack spun his own staff. There was no way this sadistic sonofabitch was going to get his hands on Adele or the others – he’d personally see to that.

“Come on, then. Let’s see what you got.”

“You. Talk. Too. Much,” was Tanek’s staggered reply, and he rushed Jack, hefting the metal lance high.

Jack blocked the move, his arms juddering with the vibrations of the blow. Christ, the man was strong; his ‘death’ had done little to change that. He was also as quick as ever, in spite of the limp – given to him, Jack remembered, by Mark.

Nevertheless, Jack pushed him backwards, getting in a strike to the stomach with the end of his heavy staff. He might as well have been hitting concrete, because Tanek hardly even flinched.

Okay,
thought Jack,
try this.

He cut to the left and brought the staff up to strike the back of Tanek’s neck: the same spot he’d punched Jack the last time they met – signalling the end of the fight. Tanek’s pike was up in a flash, catching Jack’s blow and retaliating with one of his own – which caused Jack to roll forward. He came up poised to fight, narrowly avoiding the sharp end of the spear.

Tanek tried again to impale Jack. As he shifted sideways, Jack noticed more people emerging from the armoured vehicle. First up were two oriental women in skin-tight black leather outfits, carrying lethal-looking swords. They climbed down like spiders navigating a wall. A couple of Jack’s men had a go at them with their own swords and soon found out how outclassed they were, the women spinning and twisting as they slashed open necks, arms and thighs. One move from the girl on the right practically sliced some poor fighter’s head – a young Ranger called Mundy – clean off.

The women stood ready to protect the next person getting out of the AFV, whopulled on a peaked cap before dropping down. In his long coat and maroon military outfit, it could only be the Tsar himself. Here to oversee the fall of the castle, of the Hooded Man’s empire.

If Jack could take him out, then –

But he had more pressing issues to deal will. Literally, as Tanek and he clashed weapons, each pushing against the other, neither willing to give ground. Jack’s feet slipped a little on the slushy grass, but he dug his heels in, unwilling to let Tanek take an inch.

Although his identical bodyguards were there to protect him, the Tsar was not averse to getting his hands dirty, it seemed. Jack saw him take out his own long, curved sword: Jack had seen its like in movies, but had never seen one being used for real.

The Tsar ran one of the wounded soldiers through, pulling out the blade and admiring the blood dripping from it.

He’s just as sadistic as De Falaise... as Tanek,
Jack thought.
Possibly a fighter in the past, but now prefers the sure-fire kill. I might be able to use that, if I can get close enough.

Then the Tsar’s attention was drawn to Adele and the men flanking her: Jack’s men. With the oriental sisters – twins? – in tow, the Tsar glided forward across the Bailey towards them.

Jack had to finish this right now. Had to get across to Adele before she ended up like Mundy.

That was easier said than done; Tanek wasn’t in the mood for quitting. The olive-skinned man flashed his teeth and gave one last shove, but Jack realised what he was doing and decided to give him the inch he wanted. In fact, he could take the whole middle bailey if he liked. Without warning, Jack took the pressure off his staff and stepped aside, causing Tanek to lunge forward, struggling to keep upright. As he passed by, Jack gave him a whack across the shoulder blades to help him on his way. Pitching him almost into the side of the steps.

He wasn’t completely out of the game, but it would do for now.

Jack sprinted across the field, holding the staff horizontally to take out two more Russian soldiers, each end smacking into a face. He was going to be too late to reach Adele; the twins were already closing in, and although she had a rifle, they’d still make mincemeat of her. Wilkes and Ferguson lunged forward, their intention to stop the women, but in reality all they could really do was try not to get themselves killed.

To begin with they did pretty well, holding their own against the two bodyguards, as fast as they were. And Jack was almost there when Wilkes received a savage slash to the side, biting into him to a depth of about four or five inches. He looked over at Jack, his eyes pleading as blood poured from the wound.

“You bitches are gonna to pay for that,” Jack promised, holding his staff by the end and swinging it so that it caught one of the bodyguards across the forearm. The shock bought him enough time to kick her over onto the ground.

Her sister looked across, and paid the price – as Ferguson got close enough to aim a punch at her head. The Tsar, instead of coming to their aid, pulled back slightly, raising his sword in a defensive stance.

The sister closest to Jack was recovering quickly, getting to her feet and taking a swing at him with her sword, then skirting past and making for Adele. “Where do you think you’re goin’, huh?” shouted Jack, grabbing her hair and yanking her back.

Ferguson had the drop on the second, raising his sword to bring it down on her. But she’d only been feigning weakness from his punch, and lifted her sword up to meet his, before kicking high and knocking him out of the way. Her path to Adele was now clear. Adele held the rifle up, then cast it to the side, attempting to surrender once more.

Dropping his staff, Jack dragged the first sister back and wrapped his free arm around her neck in a wrestler’s chin lock, forcing her to her knees. “Back away from the little lady, sweetheart, or I’ll crush your sister’s windpipe.” He hoped she could tell from the look on his face that he meant business.

The other bodyguard did as he asked, slowly backing away from the defenceless Adele. “Th-thank you, Jack,” the woman called over to him. The look of sheer relief on her face was thanks enough. They weren’t out of this yet, though. He glanced over and saw Adele take a handgun out of her coat.

Attagirl,
thought Jack.

She pointed it at the other oriental woman, covering her. Then a weird expression passed over Adele’s face, a sort of calmness... as she pulled the trigger. Jack was stunned; he didn’t think she had it in her. Then again, life on the streets post-virus could do a lot to a person. He expected to see the bodyguard fold up and hit the ground. Instead, she stood there – apparently as surprised as everyone else that she was still alive.

Then he saw it. Behind the woman, just to the left of her, was Ferguson, who’d been coming up behind to restrain her. Adele’s bullet had put paid to that. Jack’s head was spinning. She’d missed and shot Ferguson by accident, clearly not as used to a gun as she appeared. But the wound was slap-bang in the centre of Ferguson’s forehead, a million-to-one shot for a mistake. She’d been aiming for him, and she’d hit her target.

Adele turned the gun on Jack. “Now let her go,” she told him.

He couldn’t take any of this in. “What are you doing, you can’t –”

“I said let her go, Jack. Don’t make this any more difficult.”

Difficult? What was she talking about? Jack looked at the other twin, then at the Tsar. If they hadn’t appeared as puzzled as him, he might – just might – have leapt to the conclusion that she was working for their side. An infiltrator. No, that was impossible. Not Adele. She’d just seen the way the wind was blowing, that was all. Had chosen to try and switch sides to save her life. All that time surviving out there alone, you put yourself first. But it didn’t have to be that way, he’d show her.

“We can still get out of here, you and me. Don’t –”

“Shut up,” Adele snapped. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

“You’re scared, I understand that, but –”

“You understand nothing!” she screamed, and this time it wasn’t her voice. Not the one she’d spoken with before, anyway. Not the voice of the Adele who’d toured the castle with him, eaten with him as they’d gotten to know each other. This was the voice of a ghost. A voice he knew all too well. “I say again, Jack. Let her go.”

For a second he almost did it, purely because he was so astonished. But Jack instinctively held on to his hostage. If he was walking out of here, it was with the Chinese woman as his captive. Not with Adele – or whoever she was – arm in arm, like in some stupid chick flick. Jack should have known better, he’d never had the greatest luck with women. But for her to turn out to be...

There was a sudden pain in his back. He was forced to let go of the woman then, to reach round to his back to understand...

The Chinese bodyguard stumbled forward out of his grasp, towards her twin, rubbing her throat. Jack looked over his shoulder and saw Tanek standing there, pike held like a very long club, having just returned the favour for Jack knocking him on his ass.

Another blow and Jack was on his knees, his staff on the floor, kicked out of reach. Adele still had the gun trained on him and he couldn’t decide which way would be better to go, a shot to the head – like Ferguson – or having Tanek ram that pointed piece of metal through him.

Through his broken heart.

The twins were edging their way towards Adele, and she was watching them out of the corner of her eye. Jack had no doubt that she’d turn the gun on them in a heartbeat if she thought she was in danger.