For a moment we eyed each other, then his gaze dropped away. I don’t know whether it was the words or the smile that convinced him, but one or the other must have done the trick. He led me right up to the study door without trying any form of evasion.
We both paused there for a moment. Behind the door I could hear a mixture of voices I didn’t recognise until Gilby’s clipped tones filtered through.
“Who’s armed in there?” I whispered to Sideburns. The contemptuous look he threw at me told me I should know better than to ask.
“OK,” I murmured, “in a moment you’re going to open the door and walk in.” I returned that cool gaze with one of my own, raked him with it. “Let’s just hope you’re not expendable – for both our sakes.”
Again he thought about resisting, but I kept the gun aimed at his spine. He turned the handle and gave the study door a nudge to swing it open.
We stepped into the room with me staying as close up behind Sideburns as I dared. My eyes instantly tracked the first person who reacted. He was off by the fireplace to my right. Bigger than Sideburns, and slower for the extra weight. I brought the gun out into plain sight as he reached for his own weapon. He was carrying an Uzi dangling by its shoulder strap and it took him a second to go for it. The sheer size of the Desert Eagle’s distinctive, slightly triangular barrel made him falter.
Sideburns took advantage of my distraction to try and make a grab for the gun himself. I could have punched him, but the jacket he was wearing was heavy enough to cushion the blow. Besides, I was badly positioned to deliver anything that would have been effective, particularly considering the delicate state of my ribcage.
Instead I chose a move that required little more than balance and accuracy. I twisted out of his reach and stamped down sideways onto the outside of his right knee. Something structural inside the joint gave way with an audible crack.
The knee joint is a straightforward two-directional hinge mechanism. It has almost no lateral stability and that makes it especially vulnerable.
I knew I’d pulled a dirty move, one that owed more to streetfighting than to martial arts, but I needed to do something that was guaranteed to drop him in a hurry. Even if it didn’t, I could always outrun him afterwards. In the event, he went down faster than a South American football player, but letting out a genuine grunt of pain.
After the action came silence and immobility.
I stood there, breathing hard, with the gun up and steady, centred on the second bodyguard. He flicked his eyes to one of the other men in the room, but I didn’t see what signal he received. It must have been in my favour, though, because he reluctantly surrendered the Uzi.
“That’s probably a wise decision,” Gilby said calmly. “I have no doubts that Miss Fox is more than capable of pulling the trigger. And she’s certainly an excellent shot.”
I flicked a glance in his direction, briefly taking in the whole scene. He and the two other men in the study were sitting around the desk and hadn’t stirred during my arrival. The Major was showing little emotion on his lean face beyond the slightest hint of a smile.
To his left was a grey-haired man in thin wire-rimmed glasses and a good suit that he appeared to have slept in. He was staring at me with horrified disbelief. I knew his face, but momentarily couldn’t place him.
I wasn’t too surprised to find that the Major wasn’t the one in the position of authority in the leather swivel chair behind the desk. That honour had been taken by a new player.
He was a big broad man with the look of a wrestler about him. His pinned-down shirt collar strained around a neck thick with muscle, and his face, with its full lips and heavily hooded eyes, was unreadable.
“OK boys,” I said to the two thugs, “let’s have you two kneeling down facing the wall over there, feet crossed at the ankles, hands on your heads.”
They did as they were told without enthusiasm. Sideburns showed a distinct reluctance for the idea until I persuaded him it was in his best interests. He ended up hunched sideways on the floor, trying to keep the weight off the knee I’d kicked.
When they were down I checked the Uzi, finding it fully stocked and ready to go. My hands worked automatically without a fumble, even though I barely glanced at them. I made sure I had everyone covered with the machine pistol while I took the magazine out of the Desert Eagle and checked that, too. It was filled with hollowpoints. As if something that calibre wasn’t enough. Nice people I was dealing with.
The man behind the desk watched me do all this without speaking, keeping his hands still and in view. He didn’t fidget and at no time did he show surprise or anger at my intrusion. When I was done he turned to Gilby.
“Very impressive, Major,” he said, ignoring me completely. “I was not aware that you had any women on your staff.” His deep voice rumbled up from somewhere in his chest, and he had a thick accent straight out of a Cold War thriller. He had a particular way of saying “women”, like he usually regarded them as a commodity, something to be bought and sold.
Gilby smiled thinly, and now there was a touch of smugness about him. “Oh Miss Fox isn’t staff,” he said. “She’s a pupil here, but her hidden talents are proving a constant source of surprise, as I’m sure you’ll agree.”
He put his hands on the arms of his chair to start to rise, but froze when I brought the Uzi up sharply.
“Sit down, Major,” I said. “Nobody is going anywhere until I get some answers about what’s going on here.”
He stilled, affronted. “And what makes you think we’re going to give you any?” he snapped back in that clipped voice he reserved for dressing downs and lectures.
I hefted my expanded arsenal. “I can think of a couple of reasons,” I said. “But before we start I think you should at least introduce me to everyone. Herr Krauss I already recognise, of course,” I added, motioning to the man in the rumpled suit.
It had finally clicked who he was and where I’d seen his picture before. Elsa had brought in photographs of Heidi Krauss and her father, Dieter for her presentation about the girl’s kidnapping. So what was he doing here?
I flicked my attention to the third man. I remembered Sideburns’s admission that they were here to find the boy, and Sean’s briefing about the young Russian who’d been grabbed. The boy’s bodyguard, I recalled, had to be identified from his dental records. That probably accounted for the artillery. Was this man his father?
“Let me guess,” I went on when nobody spoke. “You are another grieving parent here to reclaim your child – by force if necessary.”
The man behind the desk inclined his head, allowing his heavy eyelids to close briefly as he did so. “You are very astute,” he said. “I can see that you are someone who might be able to help me in this matter. Miss Fox, wasn’t it?”
“That’s right,” I agreed. “And you are?”
The man smiled, a white bright smile. “My name is Gregor Venko,” he said. “And the good Major here has kidnapped my son.”
Twenty
I let out a low whistle and raised my eyebrow in Gilby’s direction. “You are either a very brave or a very stupid man, Major,” I said, “but right now I’m not sure which.”
Having subsided back into his chair, the Major had gone still again. The kind of stillness only rage produces. I had a feeling my only possible ally in the room was changing his mind about who he would choose to shoot first if it came to it.
I glanced at Dieter Krauss, who was visibly unravelling in front of me.
“So what’s your story, Herr Krauss?”
“
“I see,” I said. I waited half a beat before asking, “Who will?”
He floundered for a moment, then folded into himself and closed his mouth with a snap, as though he realised that he’d already said far too much, but just hadn’t been able to help himself. Fear jumped in his eyes. Flames behind glass. Gilby and Venko, meanwhile, were trying to outdo each other with the Sphinx impersonations.
