But things were different tonight. Somebody did know where they were, the proof the two Delta Force members locked away in their dungeon, a remnant of yesteryear.
Lacroix could see the rage overcome his master, a sight that was both terrifying, and wondrous.
“What?” he roared, dropping his fork on the table with a clatter. “Again?” He turned to the table. “We have more company.” He looked at the servant. “I’ve had enough of their interference. Kill them all! Now!”
Approaching Riquewihrweiler, France
“That must be where the party is,” said Red as all heads turned to see the well-lit structure towering at the top of a long drive. Guards were evident patrolling the front, two at the gate eyeballing their vehicle as they drove by, Dawson thankful they had blacked-out windows courtesy of their supplier. They were all armed now with Glocks thanks to a care package left in a storage compartment in the back, but they didn’t have enough for a sustained battle, merely an inglorious retreat they might survive.
If all went to plan, their supplier would have delivered their requested gear to the chalet.
But things didn’t appear to be going to plan.
They had been unable to reach Niner and Mickey, which could be explained as easily as bad reception due to the storm, or something equally as simple—they were captured or worse.
“Anybody notice anything odd?” asked Jimmy from the third row of seats in the back as they entered the village.
Dawson looked around from behind the wheel, noticing nothing but a quiet village in the middle of a mild snowstorm.
“What?”
“Everything’s in German, no French flags, and every time we drive by somebody, they stare at us then go inside.”
Dawson frowned, realizing Jimmy was right. He knew enough from history to know this area had traded hands too many times to count between the French and Germans, so perhaps it was as simple as that. But that didn’t explain the behavior.
“Maybe they just don’t like tourists,” he said.
They turned up the road leading to the chalet, Niner having sent instructions to Atlas when they first arrived. As they reached the top they saw two vehicles, one with its engine running.
“That’s odd,” said Red. “Henri maybe?”
Dawson nodded at the suggestion of their supplier.
“Has to be. No one else knows we’re here.”
Dawson pulled up and turned the vehicle around should they need to make a quick getaway down the hill, then parked. Everyone climbed out as the driver’s door opened on the idling SUV.
“It’s about time you arrived. I was about to give up,” said Henri in a thick French accent.
“Sorry we’re late, there was an accident at the bottom of the pass, held us up for over an hour.” Dawson pointed at the chalet. “Aren’t they in there?”
“There’s no answer if they are,” said Henri, who then pointed at the ground. “But look.”
Dawson looked at the snow, noticing it was covered in pockmarks, hundreds of them.
“Footprints?”
“Oui. They were much more obvious when I arrived two hours ago. They come from down there”—he pointed toward the village at the bottom of the road—“then go all around the cabin.” Henri paused, looking at Dawson. “I have a bad feeling.”
Dawson motioned for everyone to spread out as he and Red approached the door. Red tried the knob and shook his head.
Locked.
He knocked several times, but there was no answer.
Dawson nodded and Red kicked in the door, stepping back as Dawson rushed in with Jimmy. They quickly cleared the one room structure. Jimmy pointed at the fireplace.
“Fire’s still burning, but not much left of it. Judging by the amount of ash, and assuming it was relatively clean when they got here, I’d say they’ve been gone a few hours.”
Dawson agreed, stepping outside.
“They’re not here,” he said to his men. “Help Henri unload our gear, then let’s get ready. I have a funny feeling we’re being watched.” He looked at Henri. “And if I were you, I’d get my ass out of town as quickly as possible.”
“You don’t have to tell me twice, monsieur. I feel like a fool for having stayed as long as I did.”
“It’s appreciated,” said Dawson, shaking the man’s hand. “Did you receive our payment?”
Henri waved his hand, dismissing Dawson’s statement.
“You saved my ass in Algeria. How about we say I no longer owe you one?”
Dawson smiled, grabbing Henri’s shoulder.
“Despite everything I know about you, and what everybody says about you, you’re a good man.”
“Maybe my English isn’t very good, but I think I have just been insulted,” grinned Henri.
Dawson laughed, slapping Henri’s other shoulder.
“You’re English is perfect, my friend.”
Henri laughed and climbed in his vehicle, shutting the door. His window rolled down and he stuck his head out.
“You be careful. There’s something strange happening here.”
Dawson nodded.
“Don’t worry, we’ll be out of here before they know what hit them.”
Henri didn’t look convinced, the smile he gave half-hearted as he pulled away. Dawson watched him turn the corner at the bottom of the hill, noticing several villagers eyeballing the vehicle as it disappeared. Dawson pointed at Spock and Jimmy.
“You two take first watch.”
Everyone else entered the chalet and huddled around what remained of the fire, the stone at least still radiating a noticeable amount of heat.
“Get the fire going. They know we’re here, that’s for sure. We want them to think we’re planning on staying awhile. I want everyone geared up and ready to go in five minutes.” He turned to Red. “Comms?”
Red tossed him a unit.
“Finally got through to Atlas.”
Dawson fitted the unit on.
“Bravo Seven, Bravo One, how do you read, over?”
“Five by five, Bravo One. Before we get cut off, I have important intel for you, over.”
“Go ahead, over.”
“Two beacons have been activated and are located in the one-four corner of the structure, together. That must be our boys. It looks like they’ve been in the same location for hours, over.”
Dawson felt a chill run down his spine.
“No movement? So we don’t know if they’re alive?”
“Negative, no way to tell. Also, the professors and our Interpol guy just landed. They’ll be heading your way shortly, over.”
Shit! He had hoped to be done and out of here before they had a chance to arrive. While he understood their desire to see the job through, and commended them for it, he didn’t want to have to worry about three civilians, despite whatever experience they might have. But three extra sets of experienced hands might prove useful.
“Understood. If you can communicate with them, warn them we think the village might be compromised.”
“I’ll try, but cellphone reception is extremely poor.”
“Okay, we’re going in any minute now. Keep this line open, out.”
He turned to Red who was already geared up and at the window with a set of binoculars.
“Report.”
“I can’t see the front from here, but if what Niner relayed when he arrived is correct, we’ve got at least a dozen there. The rear has only four guards, all seem to be huddled around two heating ducts. They don’t seem to be too worried about an attack from the back. The rear number three wall is almost all glass with a small gathering going on inside. I’m guessing our Circle members and then some servants.”
“Good,” said Dawson as he finished putting his gear on. “Everyone ready?”
Everyone stepped forward, fully prepped. He pointed at Wings and Jagger.
“Switch off with Spock and Jimmy so they can get geared up.”
The two men nodded and stepped outside,
their two comrades entering moments later.
“Gear up. We leave as soon as you’re ready.”
Jimmy nodded.
“Good, that crowd at the bottom of the hill is getting bigger.”
“How many?”
“About a dozen now, nothing we can’t handle.”
Dawson frowned. “Seems clear that coming back here after the attack isn’t an option.” He turned to Red. “Any sign of vehicles there that we can commandeer?”
Red nodded. “Yup. There’s a bunch of SUV’s and cars parked along the four side.”
Dawson pointed at Spock as he pulled on the last of his gear.
“You and Wings secure one of those SUVs for us when we get down there. Did Henri bring us the kit for that?”
Spock nodded, patting one of his pockets.
“One car decoder, check. Should have a vehicle hot and ready for us within two minutes.”
“Good, once it’s ready, defend that side against anybody coming from the front.”
“Will do.”
Wings suddenly burst through the door.
“Crowd is getting big. If we’re getting out of here, I suggest we do it now.”
“Okay, get Jagger in here, barricade the door and windows; we’re going out the back.”
The men sprang into action, locking everything down, closing the curtains on all the windows and stacking the minimal furniture against the door and the one window large enough to enter by. At best it bought a few minutes.
“Rig the door, something gentle that will scare the shit out of them for a bit.”
Jimmy smiled and quickly set up a mercury switch trigger that would detonate a small block of C4, enough to make a large noise, but not kill anyone.
The back door was already open, the rest of the team outside when Dawson and Jimmy finally exited, closing the door. The men were snapped into their short stunt skis provided by Henri at Niner’s suggestion, poles in hands and goggles down. Dawson stepped into his, as did Jimmy, and within moments they were skiing down the hill toward the castle, the only light from the stars and a half moon.
Dawson took a glance over his shoulder and saw a large group, well lit by their lanterns and flashlights, begin to surround the chalet. Moments later Jimmy’s surprise activated, cries of fear but not pain echoing down the slope as they continued their silent approach.
“Report if you see the rear guard, over,” he said over the comm.
“I’ve got two left side in my sights,” replied Spock.
“I’ve got eyes on two on the right,” said Wings.
“Take them out when you both have the shot,” ordered Dawson.
Spock replied first. “Ready to engage.”
“Ready on the right,” replied Wings.
“Engaging.”
Two pops, followed by two more, sounded and Dawson, who had just got eyes on the targets on the left, saw both crumple. He couldn’t see those on the right.
“Two down on the left,” said Spock over the comm.
“And two down on the right,” added Wings.
“Okay, Spock, Wings, secure us a ride. Red and Jimmy take the right. Jagger you’re with me on the left.”
Spock and Wings blasted past the rear left of the castle and out of sight as Dawson came to a stop with Jagger to the left of the large well-lit window, the other side of which hosted the quarterly gathering.
“Begin setting charges, report when done,” he ordered.
Dawson began placing C4 charges with detonators along the rear wall from the three-four corner on his left toward the center of the rear number three wall, meeting up with Red who was doing the same from the other side. Within minutes three of the four sides were wired with enough explosives to bring down any good sized structure.
How a centuries old castle might react, Dawson had no idea. All he cared was that the explosion was big enough to delay anybody from following them.
Jimmy and Jagger reported successfully completing the laying of their charges, then joined Dawson and Red who were kneeling just below the bottom of the windows, the snow behind them lit a brilliant yellowish white.
Spock’s voice burst from the comm.
“Vehicle secured, second SUV closest to the rear number three wall. Taking up position to cover the four wall at the one-four corner now.”
“Roger that,” said Dawson as he peered over the lip and through the window with a small mirror. “I’m seeing seven guys in robes sitting at a table, several waiters moving about, no guards.”
“Confident,” said Red.
Dawson disagreed.
“Arrogant.” He frowned. “But where’s the eighth?” He looked across the entire room again, but couldn’t see any other robed figures. “Anybody have eyes on the eighth?”
“Negative,” said Red, “but the table is only set for seven.”
“Shit!” Dawson shook his head. “I was hoping we’d get them all.”
“Seven should stop them shouldn’t it?”
Dawson was about to reply when he shifted slightly, something catching his eye. He could see someone is street clothes running into the room, all eyes shifting to the man who appeared terrified to be there.
Suddenly several people at the table jumped up, looking out the large window and up toward the chalet.
“They know we’re here,” announced Dawson. “Shoot everything in sight that doesn’t look like Niner or Mickey in three…two…one…execute!”
Dawson jumped to his feet, raising his MP5K and emptying a magazine into the window and at the table as the others did the same around him. As the massive glass panes collapsed, it obscured the view, but he didn’t care. He kept firing, ejecting the first spent clip and loading the second in record time as his thoughts were consumed by images of Stucco and his family, of his own sister and niece, of Inspector Laviolette and his family, and the one little innocent girl who had started it all off by fighting back.
Maria Esposito.
Reading was behind the wheel, Acton in the passenger seat and Laura in the back. They had intentionally sped past the castle, not wanting to attract any attention.
“If anything is happening there tonight, it hasn’t started,” commented Reading as they entered the village. “Now where did they say the chalet was?”
“Through the village square then take a left. There’s a road that leads up to it,” said Acton, pointing toward a large open area with a fountain in the center. “This must be it.”
Reading slowed, the snow still coming down fairly heavy and their SUV already providing a little fun on some of the roads when trying to accelerate.
“There’s the—” began Acton, pointing to the left, when he stopped. “What the hell?”
Reading saw what his friend was talking about and hit the brakes, the SUV skidding to a halt.
“Bloody hell,” he muttered, then yelled, “make sure your doors are locked!” He slammed his elbow down on the lock beside him to make sure, then turned to Laura. “Break out those weapons!”
Laura flipped open one of the storage bins in the back and pulled out three Glocks, handing them out along with several clips each. Reading refused his as he put the vehicle in reverse, a crowd of at least fifty people approaching them at a run, shotguns and rifles at the ready. “Load mine, Jim.” He hit the gas as Acton loaded their weapons then stuffed the gun under Reading’s right leg.
“Loaded, safety is on, three clips sitting in the cup holder in the console.”
“Roger that,” said Reading as the vehicle reversed itself. He cursed again as his rearview mirror filled with more villagers, all armed. “We’re cut off!”
Suddenly gunfire erupted, their vehicle taking multiple hits. Reading put the vehicle in drive and hammered on the gas, deciding a moving target might be harder to hit. He raced toward the approaching crowd then cut to the left, rounding the fountain when he suddenly cried out, a sharp pain in his shoulder overwhelming him. His right hand darted to his left shoulder, the pain shooting through
him like repeated jabs of a spear as he desperately tried to hang on to the wheel, his left hand losing its strength.
He lifted his foot off the gas and tried to press the brake, his entire body becoming weak as he heard his friends yelling, neither yet realizing what was happening.
Suddenly they slammed into the side of a building, jarring them all as Acton shoved the gearshift into park, finally realizing something was wrong. Reading could feel hands on him now, shouts of concern, but everything was dim and distant, nothing even seeming real anymore as the white hot pain in his shoulder overwhelmed him, thoughts of his former partner flashing before his eyes as he prayed for God to take him rather than leave him comatose in some lonely hospital, a chunk of meat to be mourned, waiting for it to die, rather than a corpse to be mourned and buried, the pain slowly forgotten, the happy memories remaining to be enjoyed forever.
Niner looked at Mickey, shifting uncomfortably, his ass numb from the cold stone floor they were both sitting on.
“I really wish I hadn’t of worn these pants,” he muttered. “I can barely feel my ass anymore.”
Mickey looked over at him then the pants.
“Me too, those damned things are so tight I can see the pulse in your nuts.”
“It was part of the character.”
“Which once again you overplayed.”
“What are you saying, that it’s over? After all I’ve done for you?” cried Niner. “I’ve kept in shape, I take care of your every whim, and this is how you treat me?” He glared at Mickey. “It’s another man isn’t it? Who is it? Spock? I know you get turned on by his eyebrow. Or is it BD? I know you love taking orders from him!”
Mickey moved away slightly.
“Seek help.”
Gunfire erupted from somewhere in the structure and Niner pushed himself to his feet, as did Mickey.
“You hear that?”
“I think Atlas heard that.”
“About time those guys showed up. I was getting a little tired of our accommodations,” said Niner as he smacked his hands against his ass, popping the zip ties, Mickey doing the same.
The Circle of Eight (A James Acton Thriller, Book #7) (James Acton Thrillers) Page 25
