What next was a click in the quiet night and a bank of floodlights lit up the circle. So! She had not imagined the lights earlier and now she was as exposed as a bird on a wire.
No time for delay. Looking around, she leaped onto the nearest stone, and jumped over to the next, and then one on the outer ring. Graceless and undignified, but who cared? She leaped up and grabbed the wire, just as she heard the baying of dogs.
She almost screamed as the wire sliced her hand, but she vaulted over and landed in a crouch. She was up in less time than it took a mortal to blink, and ran blindly towards the fields, and beyond the glare of the floodlights. The dogs might get her scent, perhaps, but she could outrun any dog in creation.
Nur crossed a small stream before she slowed and looked around. The stones were now in darkness. Great Havering was on the other side of the woods from the stones. There was nothing around but winter fields and trees, and nothing between here and the distant lights by the coast. It was a great spot for nefarious goings on, and a good spot to bleed.
Her hand was a mess and hurt like hell, but it would heal. She pulled down her sleeve, hoping the cotton fabric would soak up the blood. The last thing she wanted was to leave a trail. No! The last thing she really wanted was to leave now, just when things were getting interesting, but she’d be back.
Trying to block out the pain she jogged across the field, intending to circle round to the town, when she noticed the other stone, just a hundred meters or so away. Was it part of Hollrigg too? Maybe. She paused in the moonlight and looked back at the circle. Seemed this stone was in direct line with the group inside the ring. Not that surprising. Weren’t circles often built with an outlier? Maybe Rudicorp didn’t own these, presumably they belonged to whoever grew winter cabbages.
She hurt too much to think any more, standing back, she looked around, and noticed the winking off in the distance towards the sea. A TV transmitter perhaps? Something for communications?
She shook her head. Her blood was feeling cold through her sweatshirt. She needed to take care of her injury very soon.
Not wanting to take the long route across country, she headed back for the woods, and once in the shelter slowed a bit. She was hurting worse, and wished she had Sam and his car handy right now. Running faster, she tripped, and as she pulled herself back to her feet with a muttered curse, she felt warmth by her hand. On a December night with the temperature below freezing? Was she hallucinating from pain?
No! She ran her good hand over the ground again, feeling another gust of warmth. An air vent? Ventilating what? An underground chamber? She’d been watching too many James Bond movies. But darn it! She was not imagining this. First motion sensitive lights, now this. But even her vampire sight couldn’t make out any more.
Standing, she pulled out her knife with her good hand, and cut a flash in the nearest tree. A bit crude but she cut it low, so it wouldn’t be too apparent, and she’d be back at first light to check it out.
Chapter Eight
She jogged the rest of the way to the road, and ran at full speed, climbing the back wall of the hotel with difficulty. Pain ripped through her arms as she grabbed for finger holds on the old wall. She reached up, balancing a foot on a sill, then on the lintel, and pulling herself up. She thanked creation her window was still cracked open. With immense difficulty, she eased it up and hauled herself over the sill, landing with a thud in an ungainly heap on the floor.
“Who’s that?” Mike’s voice asked. As Nur pulled herself to her feet, the bedside light came on. She had the presence of mind to pull the curtains closed, with her good hand. “Where have you been?” he demanded.
He sounded just like her mother used to. “I’ve been out, Mike,” Nur said and walked into the bathroom and turned on the light.
That was a tactical error. He followed her, and the light here was far brighter than the bedside one. “What happened?”
As he reached out for her hand, she looked down. Both hands were covered with dried and fresh blood. “Mike, do what I ask and I’ll explain, but I have to take care of this.” She undid her shoes with her good hand, and toed them off before stepping into the tub. She could bleed here and it would wash away. “Help me get this turtleneck off.”
“Okay, but only if you tell me what the hell is going on, and where you’ve been.” As he eased her arms out it hit him. “You’ve been back to the stones haven’t you? Dammit! You’re worse then Todd!”
For that he deserved a thump where it hurt the most, but she hadn’t the heart—not considering she hoped for a repeat performance before they were through. “Just hold it a few minutes, okay? I’ll explain, but let me clean up, first.”
As he pulled the shirt over her head, he saw the blood. “Good God, Yildiz!” Then the Kevlar vest. “What the hell is going on?” She decided to leave her slacks on—at least for now. The sight of the knife strapped to her ankle might just finish him off. “You were up there, weren’t you! Sheesh left me in bed and sneaked out.”
“Mike, give me a break will you?” She unzipped the vest, and looked it over. The cover looked fine. The blood all seemed to be on her.
She sat on the edge of the bath and turned on the cold tap, holding her hand under the water to test the temperature. She needed to wash out her clothes—all of them really—but first she’d patch up her hand. The cut wasn’t too bad, considering, but Mike stared at it, his eyes big as oysters. Before he started on again, she asked, “In the toilet bag over the sink, is a roll of tape, please pass it.” With another odd look in her direction, he fumbled in her bag, and found the roll of crepe wrapping. “Thanks,” she said, taking it from Mike, and unrolling it on the edge of the tub. Darn it, she’d need that knife now. Oh well! What was one more shock after the past few minutes? Using her good hand, she pulled up her pants leg, and withdrew the knife, and cut off a length of crepe skin.
“What is that stuff?” Mike asked, obviously choosing to ignore the knife.
“A sort of synthetic skin. Farmers use it for sore udders on cows.” And it worked great for sealing wounds on alternative humans with special healing traits.
She wrapped the crepe around her cut, the edges self-sealing as she pulled them tight. A few hours and she’d heal, but now was not the time to explain all that.
Better stick to activity at Hollrigg. “Mike, I’m taking a shower. Want to join me?”
He shook his head. “I’ll make you a cup of tea.”
Just as well really, now she could hide the second knife. Both went into her toilet bag, and then she stripped off and hid the holsters too. The shower was a complimentary extra, cold water first to rinse the blood out of her clothes. As she wrung then out and dumped them on the floor, she thought, for the nth time, how being female was an advantage. Stray blood left on towels and wash cloths could be explained away.
She adjusted the water, stood under the warm cascade, and soaped the last of the blood off her hands and arms, but after toweling off with one of the Four in Hand’s generous bath sheets, realized all her clean clothes were on the other side of the door. Too bad! It was a bit late for coyness.
She wrung out her clothes and hung them on the heated towel rail—UK hotels were so civilized in this respect, and walked out to the bedroom.
Mike stared, but warily. She much preferred his earlier, blatant appreciation. She’d put the kibosh in that! She crossed to the chest of drawers, and pulled out fresh underwear, and her last, clean sweatshirt and pants, and pulled them on.
Mike had a cup and saucer in his hand. And he’d dressed. Pity, she rather liked him naked. “I put sugar in. It’s supposed to be good for shock.”
In that case he needed most of the contents of the bowl. “Thanks.” She took the cup. He’d also, she noticed, put in milk. Oh well, it wouldn’t hurt her. She sipped the warm, sweet liquid, and sat down on the end of the bed. “I owe you a bit of an explanation.”
He nodded. “Yup.” And sat down on the chair by the window. “Do you normally nip o
ut of the window right after sex?”
“Only when I have to!”
He quirked an eyebrow. “You had to this time?”
“I thought it necessary. I did leave you a note.”
“I found it while you were in the shower.”
If only, he’d not woken, but… “Okay, ask your first question.”
“What happened to your hand?”
“I cut it.” Majorly inadequate that. “On razor wire.”
He digested that—for about a second. “So you did go back to the stones.” She nodded. “Why?”
“To find out what was going on.”
“So, you are a reporter? Why didn’t you say so? We could have given you all the facts, without you half-severing your hand.”
Her ‘half-severed’ hand was already healing, but now was not the moment to share that. “I’m not a journalist. I’m an investigator.”
“Not a teacher, then!”
“Afraid not, that was my cover, and I’d be immensely grateful if you would let that stay in place as far as everyone else is concerned.” If he didn’t, she’d have to get forceful and couldn’t bear the thought. My! She was getting soft!
“Okay,” he conceded, “I’ll let you stand by the lie, but in return I want to know what exactly you’re investigating? Why? And for whom?”
She took a couple of sips of tea while she thought fast. At least he hadn’t asked how she climbed into second floor windows one-handed. “I’m investigating Rudicorp, the current owners of the Hollrigg. My employers suspect they are not all they appear to be, and what I’ve seen the past few hours pretty much confirms that.”
“And who do you work for?”
She’d hoped he’d not notice she avoided answering that. “An international investigation agency.”
“Like…spies?”
“Not exactly.” Spies tended to be nationalistic.
He shrugged. “Dammit, Yildiz! You scared the living daylights out of me, climbing in covered with blood.”
“I wasn’t ‘covered with blood’. I cut my hand.”
“On razor wire! You tried to climb that fence! Even my lunatic brother and his friends had more sense than that!”
She’d skip telling him it was getting back out that caused the problem. “Mike, I had a job to do. It’s what I’m paid for.”
“I hope to hell they pay you millions! Who in their right mind takes on a job like that?” Good question. She’d ask Paul the next time she saw him. So much for the ‘nice easy job’. “I don’t get it Yildiz. You didn’t come all this distance over a closed right of way. What are you really looking for?”
“I’m not sure, but why keep guard dogs if it’s just a Neolithic monument?”
“I wondered that. And where did they come from?”
“Underground, I think.” He stared and she went on. “I found an air vent in the woods. I suspect they have an underground bunker and the dogs came from there. I want to go back and check in daylight.” She was moon-addled, why tell a civilian all that?
“Not on your own you’re not!”
“Mike.” She stood and walked over to him. “I’m trained for this sort of thing, you’re not.”
It was the wrong thing to say. He stood, frowning. They were almost toe to toe. “Yildiz, get this straight. This is my town. My home. If there is something going on, I have more right to dig into it that you, coming from…Istanbul!”
Maybe she could salvage this. “I need your help.”
“Really.” His eyebrows rose like golden crescents.
“Yes. That cousin of yours, Sam…” Mike nodded. “He mentioned Druids at the meeting last night.” Was it only a few hours ago? Seemed like weeks!
“His father is a bard, and his family are active in the local grove.” He sounded a bit disapproving.
“I need to talk to him.”
“What about?”
“I want confirmation about local ley lines.”
Mike rolled his eyes. “Come off it, you’re not into that mumbo jumbo are you?”
“I’m investigating! And another thing: those towers and lights in the distance towards the sea, are they a TV station?”
“You mean Horrodales?”
Maybe. “What’s Horrodales?”
“Part of the defense system, put up during the cold war, supposed to be a link in the early warning system.”
Far-fetched, but wasn’t most of the stuff she investigated? “I see,” she paused. ‘How about another cup of tea?”
“I’ll make you another.” He stepped sideways and reached for the kettle. “Then I’m leaving.”
“Why?” Help her! She sounded like a lovelorn virgin.
“Because, Yildiz. I don’t think you’re telling all the truth. I want my own bed and I need to think.”
Fair enough, she supposed. “I would like to see you again, and I do need to talk to Sam. If you could give me his phone number.”
“I’ll talk to him. He’ll come and see you—would love to in fact.” Mike sounded a bit put out at that.
“Want to meet for breakfast?”
He shook his head. “Yildiz, I plan on getting some sleep, and Sam is never up early on a Saturday. Meet you for lunch.”
“Here?”
“I’ll pick you up.”
That didn’t exactly answer her questions, but it gave her plenty of time to nip back to the stones. “Okay. Bye.”
He reached for his jacket, and would, she swore, have walked away just like that. Not while she lived and breathed! She grabbed his hand as he turned. “You might at least say ‘goodbye’.”
He did.
Slow and hot and rhythmical, his mouth closed over hers. One hand circled her shoulders and drew her close. The other cupped the back of her head. Their tongues met and she knew, they were not over yet. Whatever his misgivings, he wanted her as much as ever, and she gave all she had. Lips, tongues, heads and bodies were close as two people could be and stay clothed. She leaned into him, letting her body recapture the sweet loving of a few hours past, an experience she was determined to repeat.
He broke the kiss, at long last. “Bye Yildiz,” he said, his voice tight and raw, as he looked down at her. “I’ll pick you up at noon.”
That gave her all morning to return to Hollrigg.
Chapter Nine
She let herself sleep a couple of hours—enough to heal her cut. Waking, she peeled off the crepe bandage, and flexed her hand. It was still a bit stiff, where the scar was fading, but was perfectly usable, and in a few hours more would be as good as ever. She pulled on the same clothes she’d worn during the night, and made a mental note to shop for more soon. Heck, Paul had given her that emergency credit card hadn’t he? Running out of underwear was an emergency.
She went over to the window. Five o’clock in the morning and still pitch-dark, and would be for several hours yet. She could do a fair bit under cover of darkness.
She pulled out the detailed maps, and yes, right there on the coast was Horrodales. But the thought of shooting at it with missiles from Hollrigg was ridiculous. First where were they? In the mysterious, underground bunker/kennel? And if they did have an arsenal, attacking an early warning detection center with missiles seemed counter-productive.
She was back to megaliths and ley lines, and much as Mike pooh-poohed it, what else did she have to go on? She bet Mike didn’t believe in the walking dead either.
She pondered exiting the front door this time, but decided on the window again. No point in advertising the odd hours she kept. She debated driving, but decided against, she could run almost as fast as she could drive on the country roads, and wanted to be as unobtrusive as possible. Engines made noise. She didn’t.
She jogged out along the road at a steady pace, before cutting into the fields a mile or so from the stones. Remembering the direction she’d found the air vent, she soon found her mark, low on the tree trunk, and yes, just a couple of feet away, the air vent, still blowing out warmed air.
&n
bsp; Where there was one vent, wasn’t it likely there were more? She was, she judged, about twenty or thirty meters from the cluster of stones with the apparent door. So, they had an underground chamber. Though how they had constructed it, without anyone noticing the trucks, the dirt excavated, and the arrival of necessary materials and work crew, was beyond her.
She wasn’t here to worry how they built the darn thing, just if it existed.
With careful search, Nur found two more vents, between the first one and the stones. Seemed as if her hunch was right.
If this were a movie, she’d accidentally find the entrance, sneak in and overhear the bad guys planning Armageddon. Unfortunately she lived in the real world. But she had something—quite a bit in fact—to go on. Now to test her other idea.
She jogged towards the outlier stone. It clearly sat in a direct line between the cluster inside the ring, and the towers and antenna of the defense station that appeared in the thinning light. If there was a connection, what was it? Sabotaging or destroying the defense station would be attention-getting, but how? She was back on her ley lines supposition, and on that, she was inclined to think Mike had the right idea. But what else was here? An underground silo of missiles? Bomb-carrying pigeons? She leaned against the tallest stone and watched the first streaks of light brighten the sky. Torn between investigating more, and staying put, she sat tight and watched the sunrise. Aunt Zenip used to claim inspiration came with the dawn.
There were a heck of a lot of birds caroling their little hearts out, but inspiration seemed thin on the ground. Pity really, she’d like to go back with the solution, have lunch with Mike and spend the afternoon having heady sex, instead it seemed she was stuck in the cabbage field.
Just as she decided, she might as well retrace her steps, and see what the Four in Hand offered for breakfast, the droning of an airplane came from the south. Minutes later, a small plane approached, flying low. It flew overhead, circled, and landed, half a mile or so away near a stone farmhouse.
It was the wrong time of year for spraying crops, and an odd time of day for flying. It couldn’t have come far, could it?
Winter Warriors Page 31
