“How are you a danger to—”
“Because I’m heavily armed, I’m royally pissed, and I’m right outside.”
In the control room there was a silent flurry of activity. Riegel moved to the window quickly, pushed the lace curtains aside with a fingertip. He scanned the heavy mist over the back lawn. The Tech lurched across the desk to his handheld radio and frantically began whispering the news to the guards on the property. Felix pulled out his mobile and charged into the hallway, thumbing buttons as he moved.
Only Lloyd did not flinch. He stood as if his feet were stuck to the floor. “You’re bluffing. You just expect me to let the Fitzroys go because you say you are outside? What kind of an idiot do you take me for?”
“An idiot with an expiration date. And I assume LaurentGroup’s grim reaper is listening in. Riegel, the same goes for you. You brush a hair on the heads of those kids or Mrs. Fitzroy, and you will die in that house.”
Riegel spoke up. “Good morning, Mr. Gentry. If you are outside, why don’t you come to the front door? The Lagos contract is lost; our incentive to kill you has vanished. We’ve just called off the wet squads. The game is over. If you are really here, why not drop in for coffee?”
“If you doubt that I’m in the neighborhood, maybe you should try checking in with the four smelly guys in the blue Citroen.”
That sank in a moment. Riegel did not know what car the Kazakhs drove, but the Tech anxiously began trying to raise them again. As he did so, receiving no reply, he looked up to his two superiors with eyes of terror.
Finally Riegel said, “Most impressive. A man in your condition still able to dispatch four tier-one operators without a shot fired. As I said, we have no quarrel with you any longer. Please come in and we’ll—”
“You free the Fitzroys and hand over the SAD files, or I swear to God I will murder every last living thing in that house!”
Lloyd had been quiet, his hands on his hips and his sweat-stained shirtsleeves rolled up to his elbows. But now he moved. Storming across the room to the Tech’s desk, he leaned into the mobile phone’s microphone. “Fucking bring it, you gimpy piece of shit! In the meantime, I’m going to take a straight razor to those two stupid little bitches downstairs—”
Riegel pulled the American lawyer away from the phone, shoved him hard against the stone wall. He leaned in himself, cleared his throat. “Yes, Court? Could you allow us a few moments to discuss your proposal? You know how corporations are; we must call a meeting for everything.”
“Sure, Riegel. I’ll check back in a bit. Take your time, no rush.” The phone went dead.
Lloyd screamed to the Tech, “Get all the teams here, now!”
Riegel held up his hand to stay the Tech. When he spoke, his voice was more reasoned. “For what purpose, Lloyd? The contract is not at stake anymore. The game is over.”
“But the Gray Man is still out there!”
“That’s our problem, not LauentGroup’s. Marc Laurent will not spend a dime for the foreign kill squads to protect us. There is no more twenty-million-dollar bounty to be paid out.”
Clearly, Lloyd had not thought of that. He shrugged his shoulders. “We don’t have to tell the hitters that.”
Riegel shook his head. “So instead of fighting one wounded man now, you want to piss off Marc Laurent and a half dozen nations’ security services, fight our corporation and six countries later? I know you are insane, Lloyd; that’s been established. But are you suicidal, too?”
The Tech was looking back at his two bosses, waiting for instruction. Then he cocked his head to the side, put his hand to his headset. “Wait! All the teams are coming here anyway!”
“Good,” Lloyd said, glad the matter was settled.
“Why?” asked Riegel.
“Felix contacted them. He’s offering twenty million dollars cash from Abubaker to the team that kills Gray Man.”
“Perfect!” shouted Lloyd. “How soon till they—”
“Not perfect!” said the Tech. “He’s told them to kill anyone who gets in their way. Including the other teams! Including us. They are going to fight each other for Gentry’s head right here at the chateau!”
Kurt Riegel did not hesitate. “Pull all the Minsk guards inside the building! Alert Serge and Alain, and the three UK guards. We must defend these walls against all threats! The Gray Man or the kill squads.”
The Tech looked up at Riegel. “The Libyans will be here in moments! The Saudis are overhead now!”
Riegel looked out the window a final time. “Call LaurentGroup Paris. Have an evacuation chopper scrambled to get us out of here! Then raise the kill teams, tell them we can still work together. Tell them Court is outside. Tell them we won’t let anyone in the castle. They need to kill him before he gets in.”
The Tech spun in his chair and placed the call to the home office.
Gentry had no intention of calling Riegel back. Every second he delayed his attack on the chateau was another second the defenders could ready themselves, search the grounds for him, bring in more reinforcements. And it was more time they could use to kill the girls.
No, he had to move now. The grounds were awash in the morning’s light as he lay in the apple orchard at the back of the property. Through the gray mist he could just make out a faint outline of a large, looming structure on a rise ahead of him. He’d covered a quarter mile since he’d dropped over the wall, and he was still easily two hundred yards from Chateau Laurent.
The open ground in front of him was his biggest concern. Once he broke free from the coverage of the tree line and the thick fog hanging in the air, he would be completely exposed. Also, there was a helicopter flying circles high in the air. He could not see it, but its beating rotors announced its presence above the property.
This would be hard enough even without his multitude of injuries, but regardless of his poor personal circumstance, he knew there was no more time to waste. Court rose to his kneepads, then slowly up to a crouch. He felt blood on his left leg and knew it was again draining freely from the knife wound. The heavy dose of speed he’d introduced to his bloodstream would increase his blood loss significantly.
“Fuck it,” he said aloud. He unslung the M4 and hefted it in his arms.
He stood.
Then ran forward with every ounce of strength he possessed.
As soon as the Tech alerted the security cordon around the chateau that the Gray Man was outside, Serge rushed from the kitchen into the library and flipped the monitors back on. He knew the infrared cameras would pick up anyone hidden in the vapor. Intently he stared at one display and then the next. Back and forth he scanned. Soon his eyes locked on an image. His hand lunged for the radio on his desk. He broadcast to all elements in the chateau.
“Movement in zee back! Movement in zee back! One man, and he’s coming fast!”
Lloyd came over the radio. “Where? Where the fuck is he?”
“Coming through zee orchard.
“Where in the orchard?” screamed Lloyd over the radio.
“He’s running right up zee middle!”
The spotter in the tower broke in over the same channel. His thick Belarusian-accented voice was calm, the antithesis of Lloyd’s shriek. “I do not have a target. We do not see any . . . Wait. Yes. One man, coming fast! We’ll take him!”
Maurice had left Gentry an impressive array of equipment, but Maurice was decidedly old school, and the gear
