and leaving some of their men behind to answer the radio check-ins. They'd reported no activity, every half-hour, while the rest of them had made their way through the buildings that hid them. It was just like being back in the forest, except it was concrete and stone now masking their presence rather than wood and foliage. The same principles applied, though. And that psychotic on the roof of the castle, who would definitely be on the case today, wouldn't even see them coming – hopefully – until it was too late.
For his part, Robert had entered the city alone. He would wait until it was time and then make his appearance, at which point they would make their move.
It was risky, crossing the street and heading towards Brewhouse Yard, but worth it if they could get into the castle that way.
Tate had surprised them all, moving pretty sprightly for a man with a stick. Now that would be used as a weapon, the only weapon he would carry in fact. It was his choice.
Granger wondered if he would have felt better using a rifle at this stage of the operation, but understood the reasons why Robert suggested bows and arrows – so as not to tip off the rest of the soldiers inside the castle too early.
The barred door usually had about three guards on it, but when the group of eight men reached the edge of the rock and Granger grabbed a quick look around the corner, he saw that number had tripled today. De Falaise was obviously taking no chances with security – and who could blame him? Granger held up fingers to show how many guards there were.
The only thing they had in their favour was that to all intents and purposes, none of Robert's men had joined him on his lonely walk up to the castle. As far as anyone knew, he was all alone.
'When we do this,' Granger whispered, 'we have to do it quickly. We can't afford to have any gunfire alerting the rest of them.'
The men nodded. He felt like he was finally in charge again, at least of his squadron. It was payback time for Ennis and the other Jackals. 'Ready?'
More nods.
'Wait a moment,' Tate said, gripping his arm. Granger thought there was something wrong, or someone had seen them, but then the Reverend closed his eyes and said a prayer. He finished it by crossing himself.
'Nice to know we have the big guns on our side,' said Granger, smiling.
'Always, my son,' Tate told him. 'Always.'
Granger slipped an arrow into his bow. 'Right, let's do it.' He came out from hiding, loosing the arrow as he ran. It hit the first of the guards, a man he actually recognised now the closer he came as Oaksey – a nasty piece of work. It caught him in the shoulder, though Granger had been aiming lower, and he went spinning back into another guard. Meanwhile, the men behind Granger were all letting off their arrows as well, with varying degrees of success. Some found their homes in legs or sides, others in upper arms. Only one guard fell right away, when an arrow shot straight into his throat.
None of them had a chance to fire back. They didn't even have the opportunity to raise their rifles before the hail of projectiles thumped into them. Now those who were wounded were too preoccupied to think about their guns, crying out in pain at the wounds the arrows had inflicted.
Well, that was a piece of cake, thought Granger, then saw that the extra guards outside weren't the only security measure De Falaise had added. There was a flash of a muzzle from inside the barred door. The bullets howled past Granger, taking down a man to his right, killing him outright.
'Get down!' Granger called back, but knew they were sitting ducks out in the open. Lying down, they couldn't fire back with their bows and arrows. Not that they had to anymore. Shots had been fired, the cat was out of the bag, and his men drew their pistols, primed their own rifles – firing back at the door in the cave. Their own bullets sparked off the rocks which protected the men inside, none of them hitting their targets.
Shit! Granger tried to wriggle backwards, but enemy fire chipped away at the floor around him. We're going to die out here.
So much for having the Big Guy on their side. Just like before, there was nobody who would help Granger except himself.
Even here at the end, when he was a part of this, whatever it was, miles away from his 'home', he was going to die alone.
Jack peered out of the window.
He'd been looking out long before Robbie broke cover, mainly because there was nothing else to do while he was stuck here. They'd entered the building from the rear, knowing it was directly opposite the metal gates at the side of the castle, and afforded a view of what was happening in the grounds too. Jack had seen the preparations for the hangings, seen the prisoners being led out on the grass, followed by De Falaise and the man he knew as Tanek, dragging Mark up onto the platform. The kid looked as white as milk, hardly surprising after what he'd been through. But, as if that wasn't enough, they were now fixing to put his neck in a noose.
Jack had almost charged out there with his team right then. Even if he hadn't had the handful of fighters with him, he probably would have done it anyway. He felt like he could just rip down those metal side gates and take on the whole of De Falaise's army single-handed at that moment.
But he had to wait for Robbie, had to do this the way they'd discussed. The kid meant more to him than any of them – and vice versa Jack suspected. He had to give Robbie the chance to act. So what was keeping him?
Finally, just as the six people – including Mark – were about to be executed, Robert appeared. Hood drawn as usual, he'd made his way coolly to the main castle gates. Jack had watched, anxiously, as De Falaise countered the order to hang them, and he breathed a deep sigh of relief.
'Here's where all the fun begins, guys,' Jack said over his shoulder to his team. But as he kept watching, waiting for his cue, he could tell something wasn't quite right. It was to do with Robbie's walk, his height. In fact, the more closely Jack looked, the more convinced he became that it wasn't his leader down there after all, but an impostor.
The question was: Who?
That particular mystery was cleared up when the person in the hood stepped up onto the platform and revealed their face.
Jack let out a sharp breath. 'Mary? What the blazes is she doing in there?' As far as he knew she was with one of the other strike teams about to hit the front wall of the castle, or at least that had been the strategy. When had that changed, and how come Robbie hadn't informed the rest of them?
Where the devil was he, anyway?
The sound of gunfire broke into his thoughts. Mary or Robbie, it made little difference to the plan – it was still a distraction. What could mess it up completely would be if their men were already being shot at, as appeared to be happening somewhere.
'Time to kick the bad guys' butts,' he shouted and opened the door. The men behind Jack covered him with a hail of bullets and arrows, as he ran and tossed two grenades at the barricade. The explosion blew the metal inwards, buckling it and causing the side gates to swing back on their hinges. Jack ran towards them, staff in hand. Two soldiers with rifles were firing at him through the smoke, but he dropped to the ground, rolled, and came up sharply – jabbing with his staff to catch one in the face, then swinging it around and knocking the legs out from under the other.
'You've just been Jack-Hammered!' he said to the felled soldiers. Then he rose and led his team into the grounds of the castle.
At the same time all this was going on, three more teams were making their assault on the castle from the front, springing from buildings that ran adjacent to the wall.
Reinhart could see them, but couldn't take them all out at once – especially when he had his rifle trained on the site of the old Middle Bailey. He was only one man. Then there was the explosion, and more of The Hooded Man's – woman's? – men were pouring in from the side entrance. It was impossible to keep up with what was happening in several different locations at once.
You should not be here – any of you! Reinhart shouted inside his own head. He was used to one, two, maybe even three or four targets at once, not multiples from many different angles. Luckily there were men on the walls that were shooting at the other assault teams; they could hold them off for a little while. That's what this castle was good at, defending against invaders.
Just then he heard something – a faint sound in the distance. He turned to see the dot on the horizon… which
