Hard Knocks (34 page)

My sternum, which had been keeping a low profile, was throbbing like crazy. Breathing hurt. Sitting hurt. Now the adrenaline was slowly bleeding from my system I felt thoroughly second-hand.

The Major poured himself a brandy and took it to the other side of his desk. I’d put the Uzi and the hand cannon down onto the surface and he moved them aside with a frown of disapproval, like he was worried about scratches. Then he sat and looked at me some more.

A sudden thought rocked me. I sat up so fast I nearly slopped the contents of my glass into my lap.

“Major, please tell me that you
do
have Ivan to trade, don’t you?”

“Of course,” he said, not seeming in the least surprised by the question.

The relief had me nearly sagging back into my chair. “Where is he?”

“Somewhere close. Somewhere safe,” Gilby said, short, sharp. “Even my own men don’t know his location.” To his credit, he didn’t point out that I was considerably further down the chain of command and I didn’t press him. There would have been little point.

“That wasn’t the first time you’ve been in this kind of situation was it, Miss Fox?” Gilby said then.

I took a slug of brandy, trying not to wince as it ripped down the inside of my throat like bleach. Whatever the Major siphoned into his decanters, it certainly wasn’t a five-star Cognac.

“Not exactly,” I agreed. “No.”

He nodded slowly. “I thought not,” he said. “Venko isn’t a man who would allow himself to be held captive by a woman unless he believed absolutely that she would kill him.” He paused. “You have that air about you.”

If only you knew . . .

“Yeah, well,” I muttered into my glass. “It’s a knack.”

“Yes,” the Major said. “Yes, I suppose you could say it is.”

I looked round a little then, tried to pull it together, and said, “Where’s Herr Krauss?”

“I’ve persuaded Dieter to let me handle things. It’s going to be difficult enough tomorrow without having to cope with an emotionally unstable civilian.”

“You can hardly blame him. The poor bloke’s obviously frantic.”

“Yes,” Gilby agreed, his voice giving away neither sympathy nor irritation. “But that makes him unpredictable. A liability.”

I took another gulp of brandy. It seemed to be improving as I got into it. Maybe it had just burned away all the more vulnerable taste buds.

“So what’s the connection between you and Krauss?” I asked.

For a moment I thought the Major was just going to tell me to mind my own damned business, then I saw his gaze skim over the weaponry on the desk top. If I
had
minded my own business. If I hadn’t interfered . . .

“He owns fifty per cent of this place,” he said at last, circling a hand to indicate the Manor as a whole. “He bought in about six months ago.” And having decided to be frank, he really pushed the boat out. “Got me out of a bit of a hole cash-wise, if you must know,” he added stiffly, burying his nose in his glass. “It’s only since then that I’ve been able to pay the staff decent wages.”

Talking about money was a subject the Major clearly found rather vulgar. It was probably how he’d managed to get himself into a financial mess in the first place.

Six months
. The words suddenly clicked. Six months ago was about the time that the money Madeleine uncovered had started arriving in the school’s accounts. Gilby had re-equipped, put in a new heating system, hired some decent cooks. And once he’d done that, he’d bought himself a flash car.

It fitted, I couldn’t deny. Better still, it had the ring of truth about it.

“So when Gregor Venko kidnapped Krauss’s daughter, you naturally offered to kidnap Venko’s son to get her back?”

“I didn’t offer, but Dieter was convinced that unless we had some kind of sword of Damocles hanging over Venko’s head, he would kill Heidi. He was probably right.” Gilby glanced at me. “But good God, woman, it was a ludicrous idea. Venko’s organisation across Eastern Europe makes the Mafia look like the Women’s Institute.”

“My mother’s in the Women’s Institute,” I said dryly. “They’re a pretty tough bunch.”

I was rewarded by another near-miss of a smile. “I didn’t know they had a SWAT team.”

“You be amazed,” I said, “what she can do with knitting needles.”

The smile broke out fully. He paused for a moment, then shook his head. “What the hell are you really doing here, Charlie?” he asked, and there was no anger, just a kind of tired amusement.

I hesitated for a moment, drained the last of the brandy, made my decision.

“I came,” I said bluntly, “to find out if you’d murdered Kirk Salter.”

That shook him. He sat up straight, the fatigue momentarily dropping away. “Good God,” he murmured. “We knew there was something about you.” His eyes slid away unfocused into thought, then flicked back to my face, turning shrewd. “And if I had?”

I shrugged and found that shrugging hurt, too. “Find some evidence and take it home,” I said. “I’m not here on a vengeance kick. Hell, I didn’t even like the bloke.”

“So why did you come?”

“I made a promise,” I said, thinking of Sean. And because the Major seemed to be waiting for more than that, I added, a little reluctantly, “Kirk saved my life once.”

“I see,” Gilby said. I noticed his eyes had shifted to my throat, where the scar lay hidden under a high-neck sweatshirt.

Sean had once made the mistaken assumption that the injury dated from the same time as Kirk’s opportune intervention. I hadn’t corrected him, either. Maybe it was just easier that way.

“So,” I said carefully, “are you going to tell me what happened to him?”

There was silence while the Major rose, walked over to the drinks cabinet and refilled his brandy glass. He turned and waved the decanter at me, but I shook my head. There was only so much of that stuff I could take and still hang on to the lining of my oesophagus.

When he was seated again he said, “I’d been following the kidnappings since they started, so when Heidi was snatched I already had a pretty good idea that Gregor Venko was the man behind the operation. I also knew that Heidi’s chances of survival were very poor.” He allowed his distaste to show through. “The man’s a monster.”

I watched him sample his drink. He saw me watching and set the glass aside, as though he’d had enough already. “Anyway, I had Dieter going ballistic for me to do something, so I pulled in a few favours with contacts in the security services. Getting anywhere near Venko himself was going to be impossible without months of preparation, but I did manage to find out the location of his son, Ivan.”

He scanned me for any sign that I considered the targeting of Gregor’s only child made him a monster, too. I kept my face neutral.

“Taking him seemed the logical thing to do at the time.” He gave a wry smile. “Perhaps if I’d had the chance to think things through more I would have hesitated, but I didn’t. We had less than a week to put a team together. Salter was here when Dieter arrived, overheard enough to know what was going on and volunteered immediately.”

There was a hint of something close to admiration in the Major’s voice as he reached for his drink again. “I was glad to have him,” he muttered fiercely. “Damned good soldier.”

“So what happened?”

“I’m not entirely sure,” Gilby admitted. “We had a plan of attack. Not a foolproof one, by any means, but a good plan nonetheless. Somewhere along the line somebody blew it. We were compromised. It was a miracle we made it out with so few casualties and still managed to achieve our objective.”

“And Kirk was one of those casualties?”

The Major lifted his head and looked straight through me, his eyes blank to everything but the recall. “He was last man out,” he agreed. “Told us he’d cover our withdrawal, but the field of fire they put down was incredible. They were using machine pistols and just emptying magazine after magazine at us. Made the Gulf look like a picnic.” He shook his head, grim-faced at the memory. “We got him into the truck, did everything we could, but our medic was injured too. Salter didn’t make it.”

Our medic? Ah, so
that
was the problem with O’Neill.

“So you dumped Kirk’s body in the forest,” I said. I didn’t think I had any feelings about that, one way or the other. I was mildly surprised therefore, to hear the contempt in my voice. “Nice way to treat a
damned good soldier.
”

Gilby ducked his head in acknowledgement of the jibe, but he didn’t flinch. “I agree,” he said. “Officially, we couldn’t explain to the authorities what we’d been up to, so we left him. It was a tactical decision, but not an easy one, I can assure you. Making choices like that is one of the burdens of command.” It should have sounded pompous, but somehow it didn’t.

I sat in silence for a while. So there it was. The gospel of Kirk’s death, according to Gilby. If I believed him then my work here was done. And if I had any sense I would report back to Sean and get the hell out of there before the shooting started.

I didn’t even have to explain my departure to the other students. They’d all heard Todd telling me I was finished. They were all fully expecting me just to pack up and leave . . .

But then there was just the small matter of my promise to Gregor Venko. A promise bound by blood, in all its forms.

“Who were the men in the Peugeot?” I said suddenly. “The ones who ambushed us in the forest. Were they Venko’s men?”

“Father, or son?”

“Either,” I returned, just as succinctly, “or both.”

“Son. His bodyguards, I believe. I rather think Venko sent them to try and intimidate or force us to give him back without having to use him to trade for Heidi. It’s only after their attempts failed that he’s come prepared to make a deal. It would explain why we haven’t come under significant fire until now.”

I remembered again Blakemore’s words to the Peugeot driver.
“Try this shit again and next time we send you the kid’s ears.”
It all made such perfect sense now. How would they have talked
that
one away to a man like Gregor Venko?

“And now Gregor’s decided to handle things personally,” I murmured.

Gilby inclined his head. “As you’ve seen.”

“So, if that’s the case,” I said slowly, “who was behind Blakemore’s death?”

“That was an accident,” Gilby said quickly. Much too quickly.

I met the Major’s gaze level, held it there. He had the grace to break away first. “You looked at the scene as much as I did – probably more. The fact he was hit before he went over isn’t in doubt,” I said. And because the need to know was deep and biting, I added with an edge dipped in acid, “And now you’ve lost another man. Your forces are being depleted, Major, at a faster rate than you can sustain.”

The hit was a direct one, but the response wasn’t quite what I expected. “Oh, Mr Rebanks isn’t lost,” he said tightly, a flush forming along his pale cheekbones. “Although in my opinion he more than deserves to be dead.” Shock kept me silent, and my silence pulled more out of the Major than questions would have done.

“Dealing weapons from
my
school,” Gilby gritted out with quiet vehemence, more to himself than to me. “Dealing them to the very men who would use them against us!” He sucked in a breath, fought for control. After a few moments his colour began to subside, calming as his temper ebbed.

Rebanks was still alive. Thank God for that!

“Oh yes,” he went on bitterly, “he deserves to be dead.” He looked up sharply then and I can’t have hidden the emotions that were rioting through my mind.

Astonishment and disbelief came and went across the Major’s own features. “Good God,” he said softly. “It was you.” As he said it another realisation came riding in on the back of the first. “You thought you’d killed him,” he said and I saw him take another mental step back.

“Yes,” I said. There wasn’t much else I could say. I could only hope to distract him. “What’s happened to Rebanks?”

Gilby gave a grunt. “This place was built to house an extensive wine cellar,” he said, briefly showing his teeth. “Mr Rebanks is languishing in new underground quarters until I’ve cooled down enough to decide exactly what to do with him. You probably did me a favour there.” His voice was mild. Only the expression on his face told me he might be lying.

“I wasn’t the only one at the armoury last night,” I said quickly. “Somebody else set that damned fire alarm off. You do know you’ve got the German security services on your tail, don’t you?”

“I couldn’t ignore the possibility,” he acknowledged, but his face darkened at this new infringement on his territory. “They indicated that they would allow me to act with autonomy in this matter until Heidi was released. I should have known they wouldn’t play by the rules.”

Startled, I asked, “They
know
you’ve kidnapped Ivan?”

The Major inclined his head reluctantly. “Not officially, of course, but yes, they know we’ve got him, all right. In the manner of governments the world over,” he added, his voice sour, “they’re more than happy to overlook it – providing I hand him over when the girl is safe.”