Broken Arrow

the ground.

Her sister looked across, and paid the price — as Ferguson got close enough to aim a punch at her head. The Tsar, instead of coming to their aid, pulled back slightly, raising his sword in a defensive stance.

The sister closest to Jack was recovering quickly, getting to her feet and taking a swing at him with her sword, then skirting past and making for Adele. 'Where do you think you're goin', huh?' shouted Jack, grabbing her hair and yanking her back.

Ferguson had the drop on the second, raising his sword to bring it down on her. But she'd only been feigning weakness from his punch, and lifted her sword up to meet his, before kicking high and knocking him out of the way. Her path to Adele was now clear. Adele held the rifle up, then cast it to the side, attempting to surrender once more.

Jack dragged the first sister back and, jamming his staff under his arm, wrapped his other one around her neck — in a wrestler's chin lock — forcing her to her knees. 'Back away from the little lady, sweetheart, or I'll crush your sister's windpipe.' He hoped she could tell from the look on his face that he meant business.

The other bodyguard did as he asked, slowly backing away from the defenceless Adele. 'T-Thank you, Jack,' the woman called over to him. The look of sheer relief on her face was thanks enough. They weren't out of this yet, though. But as he glanced over, he saw Adele take a handgun out of her coat.

Attagirl, thought Jack.

She pointed it at the other oriental woman, covering her. Then a weird expression passed over Adele's face, a sort of calmness… as she pulled the trigger. Jack was stunned to see her do that, because he didn't think she had it in her. Then again, life on the streets post-virus could do a lot to a person. He expected to see the bodyguard fold up and hit the ground. Instead, she stood there — apparently as surprised as everyone else that she was still alive.

Then he saw it. Behind the woman, just off to the left of her, was Ferguson, who'd been coming up behind, to restrain her. Adele's bullet had put paid to that. Jack's head was spinning. She'd missed and shot Ferguson by accident, clearly not as used to a gun as she appeared. But the wound was slap-bang in the centre of Ferguson's forehead, a million to one shot for a mistake. She'd been aiming for him, and she'd hit her target.

Adele turned the gun on Jack. 'Now let her go,' she told him.

He couldn't take any of this in. 'What are you doing, you can't-'

'I said let her go, Jack. Don't make this any more difficult.'

Difficult? What was she talking about? Jack looked at the other twin, then at The Tsar. If they hadn't appeared as puzzled as him, he might — just might — have leapt to the conclusion that she was working for their side. An infiltrator. No, that was impossible. Not Adele. She'd just seen the way the wind was blowing, that was all. Had chosen to try and switch sides to save her life. All that time surviving out there alone, you put yourself first. But it didn't have to be that way, he'd show her.

'Let's talk about this. We can still get out of here, you and me. Don't-'

'Shut up,' Adele snapped. 'I'm not going anywhere with you.'

'You're scared, I understand that, but-'

'You understand nothing!' she screamed, and this time it wasn't her voice. Not the one she'd spoken with before, anyway. Not the voice of the Adele who'd toured the castle with him, eaten with him as they'd gotten to know each other. This was the voice of a ghost. A voice he knew all too well. 'I say again, Jack. Let her go.'

For a second he almost did it, purely because he was so astonished. But Jack instinctively held on to his hostage. If he was walking out of here, it was with the Chinese woman as his captive. Not with Adele — or whoever she was — arm in arm, like in some stupid chick flick. Jack should have known better, he'd never had the greatest luck with women. But for her to turn out to be…

There was a sudden pain in his back. He was forced to let go of the woman then, because he needed to reach round, lessen the agony there somehow. Agony caused by being struck by something.

The Chinese bodyguard stumbled forward out of his grasp, towards her twin, rubbing her throat. Jack looked over his shoulder and saw Tanek standing there, pike held like a very long club, having just returned the favour of Jack knocking him on his ass.

Another blow and Jack was on his knees, his staff on the floor, kicked out of reach. Adele still had the gun trained on him and he couldn't decide which way would be better to go, a quick shot to the head — like Ferguson — or having Tanek ram that pointed piece of metal through him.

Through his broken heart.

The twins were edging their way towards Adele, and she was watching them out of the corner of her eye. Jack had no doubt that she'd turn the gun on them in a heartbeat if she thought she was in danger.

'Leave her be,' Jack heard Tanek say to them. He'd recognised her as well, or at least a part of her. The part that must have come from him. The psycho who'd started all this in the first place. The reason they were all here today. As Adele came closer, still holding the gun out straight, Jack could see the same look in her eye now: an insane look. The look of a daughter out for revenge.

Jack gave a sad laugh. 'I thought we had something there for a while.'

'Oh, please,' she said, then spat at him. 'You were one of the men who murdered my father! How could I ever have feelings for you other than loathing?'

Jeez, do I have lousy taste in broads or what? Well, it's cost you this time, hasn't it, numbskull?

'Father?' asked The Tsar, now deeming it safe to come closer, though not before his bodyguards joined him again. 'You don't mean that-'

Tanek nodded. 'She is De Falaise's child.' He exchanged a long look with Adele, who smiled. 'The person I came here to find.'

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

They'd been lies, pure and simple.

No two ways about it. Tate had lured her here under false pretences, as she'd told him repeatedly. When the message had reached her about the approaching army, one that apparently made De Falaise's look like a joke, she'd leaped at the opportunity to come to the castle for more weapons. If the soldiers passed through New Hope, then her people would need all the help they could get. It wasn't as if Robert was using them, was it? Gwen had to admit she'd been puzzled as to why they were suddenly going to give them to her, after denying them for so long, but she wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth. Telling Andy, Darryl, Graham and the others that she'd be back soon, she'd headed off for Nottingham with Clive Jr.

When she'd driven back through the gates and found the Reverend, he'd stalled her to begin with by offering her food and drink after her journey, then insisted that they should stay at the castle overnight as it was growing late. It was then that she discovered Robert and a good chunk of his men had gone off to meet The Tsar's forces, taking with them only rudimentary weapons.

'He's completely crackers, you do know that?' Gwen told Tate.

The Reverend said nothing, no doubt thinking God would be on the man's side. Oh well, it was his funeral — and it meant that there would be more real weapons for her to take back with her (and they'd damned well need them after Robert had finished agitating The Tsar). When she discovered that would not be the case, Gwen went ballistic.

She argued with Tate until she was blue in the face, but he refused to see reason.

'Is this about what happened before?' Gwen asked him. 'About how you left me here?'

'I didn't…' Tate began, then bit his tongue. 'I wanted to come sooner, but-'

'But you didn't because of Robert, right? Meanwhile that lunatic Frenchman was…' Gwen's eyes hardened, the memories too painful. 'You want to help me, salve your conscience? You give me those weapons and let me return right now.'