by Mark Hayden
The cottage grounds stuck into the field like someone had taken a bite out of a piece of sliced green bread, and I could see smoke coming from the back as well as the front. The property was bounded by a six foot fence, and one of the panels was already down, presumably the work of Richmond. I gave thanks for the drought that had rendered the field firm and accelerated again.
Two figures ran out of the gap in the fence: Saffron and Richmond. Saffron’s chain swung loose, and Richmond had his dagger by his side as they both tried to deal with the effects of gas. I blew hard on the horn to let them know I was coming, and headed for the gap. Saff turned to look, and grabbed Richmond’s hand to pull him out of the way. With my right hand, I touched the Hammer and brought up my Ancile.
Two of the bodyguards, wearing respirators, emerged from the gap in the fence, then fell back when they saw me. I slammed on the brakes and pulled up with the nearside to the fence, loosening my seatbelt as I did so. ‘Scout! With me!’ I shouted. I pulled the door open and rolled out of the car, taking the Anvil from the passenger footwell.
Over the phone: ‘I’m gan’in round the back.’ Vicky.
‘Saffron, clear the smoke. I can’t see,’ said Richmond.
I stood up, using the car as cover, and braced my gun on the roof. Richmond had not only levelled the fence, he’d blown down some small trees, and I could see into the garden. There was no one there, and the forced air from Saffron’s blast was blowing the smoke back towards the cottage. ‘Scout. Stay,’ I said, then moved up to the fence.
I looked round the edge and saw the back of the building, with french windows standing open and no sign of life. I looked left and saw a gap leading round to the front. Vicky was coming that way, and she was now wildly outnumbered. I stuck to the fence rather than cross the open lawn and headed for the gap.
Which was mostly filled with the bulk of a Range Rover Sport. One of the big ones that you need two parking spaces for in the supermarket. Someone was chucking stuff into the open boot, and beyond the car, I could see Vicky facing off against two of the bodyguards.
The Range Rover’s engine fired. It had been driven in, and was facing me. I hadn’t noticed that there was a driver. The woman who’d been loading the boot threw two more tear gas grenades towards Vicky and opened both passenger doors. I moved forward, pointing my gun at where the driver would be sitting and again sticking to the fence.
The two bodyguards dropped their weapons and made a run for the car. The woman who’d been doing the loading appeared with two familiar bottles: Molotov cocktails. She didn’t bother lighting them, she just rolled them towards me so slowly they wouldn’t trigger my Ancile, then she used a blast to smash them and some simple pyromancy to set the petrol on fire. As the flames shot up, I saw her grab the Artefacts round her neck and wind up for something big. I flattened myself against the fence and started to inch away from the flames. The vegetation had been badly neglected and was just waiting for some petrol to turn itself into a merry forest fire.
The Mage jogged forward a few steps and aimed to my right. With a clap of thunder, a cherry tree and three fence panels blew away. The Range Rover started forwards. The woman mounted the running board and hauled herself inside. The momentum of the vehicle slammed her door closed, narrowly missing her fingers. The vehicle gathered speed and brushed the edge of the fire as it headed for the new gap.
There was nothing I could do except watch. When I got my firearms accreditation, the rules had been very clear: you only open fire on vehicles if there is an immediate threat to life. I lowered my gun and jogged to see where it was going.
In the field, Saffron had moved to put herself in the way of the Range Rover. Stupid Girl. Stupid, stupid girl. Richmond had realised this, and launched himself at her, just in time to push Saffron out of the way and have his leg sideswiped by the car. I’m sure they heard him scream at the Hare and Hounds.
The Range Rover bumped over the field, through the gate and on to the road.
Saffron had been sent sprawling, and crawled over to Richmond to check on him. He was giving her a great mouthful of abuse for what she’d done, and what she’d forced him to do. Impacts like the one he’d suffered can sometimes be deadly, sometimes you can get off lightly. I ran over to have a look. For the second time today, I saw a man who’d need an orthopaedic surgeon. Shit.
Vicky appeared through one of the gaps in the fence. She was carrying the two machetes that had been dropped by the bodyguards.
‘How’s Xavi?’ I shouted.
‘Bad. He got nearly a full grenade’s worth. We were lucky – these weapons have a toxic coating. No wonder they dropped them rather than risk cutting themselves in the car.’
‘Get out quick, Vicky, before the emergency services come. Are you okay to drive?’
‘I’ll manage. I didn’t go in the house, and I was able to blow most of the gas away from me.’
‘Take Xavi to Reading. It’s the nearest A&E. He must have treatment. Go!’
She ran back through the gap, skirting the now growing fire. And was that smoke coming from the house, too?
I turned my attention to Richmond and Saffron.
‘Who drove?’ I said.
‘Why the fuck does that matter,’ said Richmond.
‘I did,’ said Saffron.
‘Good. Where’s your car, Dom? And give me the keys.’
‘Are you going to leave me here?’
‘Don’t worry. I’m here to support, and that’s what I’m doing. Where’s the car?’
‘Hare and Hounds.’
‘Keys. We need them before we move you, or they might get trapped underneath you.’
He rolled a few inches and groaned. ‘Right hand coat pocket.’
‘Get them, Saff. You’ve got smaller fingers.’
‘Right.’ She unzipped the pocket and fished out the keys.
‘Good. We’re going to get you in my car in a second. I just need to check your pelvis.’
The last time I’d done this was for poor Diarmuid Driscoll. Vicky had driven the Volvo into him. Deliberately. I think Richmond had come off worse. I felt his pelvis and lifted his thigh a little. It moved as freely as you’d expect. If it hadn’t, then it really would be an ambulance job.
‘Saff, get him sitting up. I need to arrange the car.’
I went back to the Volvo, and found a terrified dog shivering underneath the driver’s side. ‘Out you come, boy. It’s safe now.’ I took two seconds to rub his coat and transfer a little Lux, then popped the boot open.
The back of a Volvo XC70 is big and long. Even longer when I pushed the rear passenger seat down. I moved Scout’s dog basket and shifted as much of the gear as I could to leave a narrow channel. I grabbed the picnic blanket and put it down for a pillow.
Leaving the boot door up, I reversed the car as close to Richmond as I could get and left the engine running. ‘Saffron, we’re going to lift under his shoulders. Dom, pull your left knee up and get ready to push with your left leg. This is going to hurt. On three…’
He couldn’t help but moan and hiss with the pain, but he was up. I took as much weight as I could under his right shoulder and Saffron did the same with his left. We turned and eased him back to the gaping boot of the car, then I eased him down into a sitting position, facing out and as far in as I could manage.
I went round to the door by his head and got my hands under his shoulders. I held him as tightly as I could. ‘This is going to hurt even more,’ I said. ‘On three, Saffron is going to lift your leg and I’m going to pull you in. It may take two heaves. You can rest then. OK?’
The reality was starting to bite on both their faces. The enormity of Dom’s injury was written in his dilated pupils and guilt was scrawled all over Saffron’s compressed lips. ‘One…’
His screams easily drowned out the sound of distant fire engines, but not the smoke alarms from inside Lilac Cottage. The overgrown bungalow was now well ablaze. I shut the door and went round to the boot, where Saffr
on was hovering, wondering what to do. ‘Go straight home, get someone you trust, and come back for Dom’s car. Take it back to Cherwell Roost.’ She nodded and ran off across the grass towards the churchyard.
I shut the boot, got Scout on to the front passenger seat and drove as slowly as I dared out of the field. At the smashed gate, I turned left and took the back way out of the village. One more turn, and we were just A.N.Other vehicle on the A4.
‘Where are we going?’ said Richmond.
‘On to the A34. I’m going to stop at the services. Just five minutes, that’s all. Then I can give you some morphine.’
‘I’d like that.’
It was closer to ten minutes before we got to the services. It was late enough that most of the car park was empty. I did not need any concerned citizen spotting my cargo. I got Richmond some water and a strong dose of Oxycontin. I stood next to his open door and lit a cigarette.
‘Get a bloody move on,’ he said.
‘In a second. I’m going to have to call the Boss in a minute, and you need to know what’s happening first. Also, a few minutes of peace will let the morphine kick in. That was one of the bravest things I’ve ever seen, Dom. Throwing yourself in front of that Range Rover was truly heroic. I mean that.’
‘Stupid bitch. Karma, I suppose, for getting into such a mess. You haven’t said I told you so. Get it over with.’
‘I didn’t tell you, did I? I didn’t get the chance. You did your best, and no one died. Focus on that while I drive us to the John Radcliffe.’
‘That’s miles away. You sent Xavi to Reading.’
‘You need to be in the same hospital as Morris Chandler. Besides, you live in Oxford. Someone might visit.’
‘Why are you bothering with Chandler?’
I crushed out my cigarette. ‘Because he’s our only hope of finding them before they disappear or attack some soft target. Make yourself comfy.’
The text message I’d sent from the Hare & Hounds before this debacle unfolded was to Hannah, telling her to alert Thames Valley Police to a potential operation on their patch. I dialled her number, knowing that she’d probably be dealing with the fallout from Lilac Cottage already.
‘Conrad! What’s happened? Is everyone okay?’
‘All alive. Dom’s got a broken leg and Xavi’s been teargassed. Haigh’s gang all escaped.’
‘Baruch Hashem. I’ve got the control room on hold. Where are you? I need to provide cover.’
‘Vicky’s going to Reading. We’re on our way to the John Radcliffe.’
‘Good. I’ll call you back.’
Richmond was somewhere between asleep and unconscious when we got to the hospital. An armed police officer was lurking in the background, and the counter-terrorism inspector from this morning was leaning against the ambulance entrance. A team of paramedics rushed out of the building to attend to Richmond, ignoring me completely because Hannah had given the control room all the details already.
I stepped away from the Volvo and nodded to the inspector.
He pointed to the back of the car. ‘You look better than he does, but there’s not a lot in it.’
‘It has been a long day.’
‘And they got away again?’
‘Yes. Last time, though. They’re running out of places to hide.’
‘It’ll be off my patch, at least.’
I turned to look at him. ‘Why do you say that?’
‘They have a base, right?’ I nodded. ‘This Lilac Cottage place will be somewhere between their base and whatever their target was. That puts their base outside Thames Valley.’
That was a very good thought. I mulled over it for a second and watched them doing something to Richmond’s leg before they moved him.
The inspector looked at his armed officer. ‘This guy is the night-shift personal protection officer for Chandler. Who needs guarding most?’
‘For tonight, Dom Richmond. I’ll take Chandler myself. How is he, by the way?’
‘Still deeply sedated. Ruptured spleen. They don’t want him moving for at least twenty-four hours.’
There was a lot of activity by the back of the car. They put some sort of collapsible stretcher under Richmond and were able to lift him on to the gurney with a lot less pain than I’d managed. He called out to me and waved his hand.
The paramedics ignored him and got ready to move the trolley. ‘Clarke,’ he said, ‘Tell me one thing you’d have done differently.’
Where to start? I gave him the one thing that would show up his lack of experience rather than his incompetence. ‘Attack at night. The police make dawn raids. The Army does it at 02:00.’
He nodded, and the gurney disappeared through the huge doors into the hospital. The armed officer detached himself from the shadows and followed at a discreet distance.
I went to say goodbye to the inspector. ‘I looked you up,’ he said. ‘Out of curiosity. I was amazed to find that you’re a Special up north, as well as the other stuff. There was a name I recognised on your firearms certificate.’
‘Smithy?’
‘One and the same.’
‘So naturally you gave him a call.’
‘I did. He said, “Good bloke. Knows his stuff. Whatever you do, steer well clear of his weird shit.” Did Richmond get too close?’
‘Dom? No. He’s in it up to his neck. Chandler was the one who got too close. You’re still at a safe distance.’
‘Goodnight, Clarke.’
21 — Friendly
‘Arrf! Woof! Arrf!’ said Scout. There was a Mage coming. Hopefully Saffron, and hopefully the nurse wasn’t passing outside the door. I limped over and took a defensive position (after scratching Scout’s ears).
Saffron slipped quietly into the room carrying two large Costa Coffee cups. ‘Good morning, sir. How are you?’
The last time Saffron had walked into the ward, she’d been radiant from a job well done. Not today. Then again, I very rarely look radiant at six o’clock in the morning.
‘Did you get any sleep?’ I said. ‘You’re going to be here for a long time.’
‘A bit.’
‘Let’s go into the corridor.’
I gave Scout the treat he’d earned, and we slipped out of the room. I accepted the coffee gratefully: my own little treat for being a good boy. I’d kept awake for the first few hours by moving around the building and going outside to check on Scout. At three o’clock, I’d smuggled him into the ward and made him a bed behind the door. Two nurses and one doctor had completely failed to spot him, which was bizarre. I’m beginning to suspect that Scout might have a lot more magick than I do.
‘How’s Dom?’ was her first question. It got her a bonus point with me, because she was itching to apologise and grovel, yet she’d forced herself to ask about Dom first.
‘Double fracture of the lower right leg. His knee’s bad, too, but the on-call surgeon was their best, according to the theatre sister. He did them both at the same time. He’ll be out of it until noon. After that, I’m hoping they’ll move him into a double room with Chandler, then he can take over guard duty.’
‘From his bed?’
‘Why not? All he has to do is sense them coming and alert the armed protection officer. Until then, it’s over to you.’
Her shoulders slumped. ‘All I wanted to do last night was talk to someone about it. I was on the verge of quitting, just so I could go over to the Roost and talk to Mum. That’s another thing Hannah didn’t mention: the isolation.’
‘Why did you do it? What were you hoping to achieve, standing in the way of the car like that?’
‘I wasn’t thinking. I just thought I had to do something.’
Physical contact between senior officers and junior ranks of the opposite sex is frowned upon for good reasons, but if this wasn’t an exceptional circumstance, I don’t know what is. I put down my coffee and put both hands on her shoulders. ‘Saffron, you haven’t had years of training for operations. Even then, split second decisions aren’t
easy. Try to remember this: Team at risk, do something. Team not at risk, do nothing.’
She nodded.
‘Repeat after me. Team at risk…’
‘Team at risk, do something. Team not at risk, do nothing.’
‘Good.’ I dropped my hands and picked up my coffee. ‘In other news, Xavi is very sore but suffered no lasting effects, there is no trace of Eilidh Haigh or her gang, and I am now going home. Barring emergencies, I’ll see you on Monday.’
‘Monday? What about Eilidh?’
‘She can wait. Until Chandler is fit to be interviewed, we have nothing, and nothing comes from nothing. I’m off to face a female foe of a different kind. One that I’m related to.’
‘Vicky said your mother was nice. Odd, but nice.’
‘And so she is. Somehow, she also gave birth to my sister. Have a good weekend.’
‘Here they come,’ said Myfanwy. ‘Is that a bottle of Champagne your sister’s carrying?’
I turned to face the Inkwell. Carole Thewlis and Rachael were heading our way with big smiles on their faces. ‘Two bottles,’ I said. ‘Raitch would never buy one in case she has to go back to the bar. Saves the effort.’
‘She does know we have our first match tomorrow,’ sniffed Jules Bloxham. ‘That’s a lot of Champagne.’
‘Not for Rachael,’ I said.
Our little group stood up to greet the new arrivals. Normally Juliet would be well away from us, but Myfanwy had made a point of inviting her so that all the women’s team who went to the pub were together. Some had stayed for a quick one and gone, and you may raise an eyebrow if I tell you that apart from Jules, all the stopouts were all from Team Elvenham: Mina, Myfanwy, Erin, Nell and Ben.
Carole and Rachael had changed after their drive from London and looked relaxed and happy together. They also looked like that Champagne wouldn’t be their first drink of the evening. I know that their friendship has had its ups and downs, some of which I got blamed for, and it was good to see Rachael with someone from outside the world of high finance.
