He took a grenade, cycled through the functions, selected stun and tossed it through the door. Flash-bangs did what they said on the tin. The ear-splitting explosion and blinding flash induced panic amongst the occupants of any space they were thrown into. The device detonated. Helix stormed the door. Spinning through 360 degrees the muzzle of his weapon pointed low at the whimpering heap of rags beside the four-poster bed. ‘On your feet.’
Office-soft hands swept the tattered material away from the mud-streaked face. ‘I’m unarmed, Major,’ Wheeler said, a ripple of winks erupting from his left eye.
Shuffling back towards the window, Helix kept the gun on Wheeler. Down below, Sofi, her face and head wrapped in an improvised shemagh, made her way up the path towards the gate. With the Glock held steadily in her hand, she froze and looked up at the window as he spoke to her. ‘I told you to stay out of sight. Don’t come up here. Wait for my call.’ Helix wrinkled his nose. ‘Jesus, Wheeler, you stink.’
‘Very amusing, Major,’ Wheeler said, climbing to his feet. ‘I was about to shower and change.’
Helix’s eyes swept around the room. Apart from the damage the Raufoss round had caused, it lacked the dusty rustic charm of a medieval gatehouse and looked more like one of those makeovers that were the gossip fodder of the chattering classes in the cities. ‘Not exactly integrated with the local population I see. Apart from the rags,’ he said. ‘Where did all this come from? I can’t imagine you getting your hands dirty with manual labour.’
Wheeler stepped away from the bed, halting as Helix raised his gun. ‘What’s the expression?’ he said. ‘It’s not what you know, it’s who you know.’
Helix was tempted to smash the smug grin off of his face. ‘Where’s the satellite phone?’
‘I’m not sure what you mean, Major.’
‘Upstairs, I take it.’ Helix said, pushing a poker into the red-hot base of the fire. He turned to Wheeler. ‘Is there anyone else up there that I need to know about?’
Wheeler shook his head.
‘OK. Good. Time to talk. Otherwise, the methods of persuasion are going to get as old-fashioned as the architecture. Who were you talking to?’
‘I’d be surprised, given your resources, if you didn’t know the answer to that question already.’
‘We’re working on it.’ Helix checked the tip of the poker. ‘But you could save me some time and yourself some discomfort if you just spat it—’ He stood, tilting his head, listening. He sighed. ‘OK, Finch. Your choice,’ he called out, swinging his weapon towards the open door. ‘Toss your guns down the stairs and join us. If you choose to go back down, you’ll just get yourself shot. Your call,’ he said, taking a double-handed aim. ‘Don’t look so surprised, Wheeler, I knew you couldn’t have got out of that pit on your own. Plus I doubt tactical boots that leave those kind of prints are standard issue to your ragtag army.’
Wheeler swallowed and shifted back towards the bed.
Helix had no idea where Sofi was hiding but was grateful for the warning that Finch was on his way up the stairs. Finch was an idiot, but even idiots got lucky when they had guns.
‘Make it snappy, Finch, unless you want a frag grenade down there to help you decide.’
A heavy clatter echoed up the stairs.
‘And the other one.’
A second clatter followed. ‘OK. I’m coming up,’ Finch called.
Elias Finch’s face bobbed around the corner of the narrow stairwell. Helix placed the point of aim on his forehead and relaxed the grip on his weapon. The smart-ammo would do the rest. ‘Hands. Let’s see ‘em.’
Finch complied, ducking through the door, looking past Wheeler, behind the door.
‘What are you looking for?’ Helix said, waving him next to Wheeler.
‘Her Royal Highness, Dame Gabrielle Stepper,’ Finch said. ‘What happened? The old Helix charm not working? Couldn’t persuade her to return to London to face the music?’
‘She’s somewhere safe.’
‘So, it’s not her waiting downstairs to shoot me.’
‘Hardly. She wouldn’t shoot anyone, even a piece of shit like you.’
‘Oh of course. Your secret weapon,’ Finch said, feigning fright.
‘Secret enough to see you coming a mile off.’
Finch folded his arms. ‘But is it secret enough to see the extraction force approaching to take you and the good Doctor back to London?’
‘Nobody will be taking us back to London. Are you picking anything up, Sofi? If we go at all, it’ll be on our own terms.’
‘Negative,’ Sofi replied.
‘There’s nothing coming, Finch, it’s a bluff.’ Sofi would have it covered. She’d be scanning all military channels and positioning herself with the 50 cal. Anything incoming would be met with a Raufoss round or two. ‘I told you to walk away. You should have listened. Did you really think you’d be able to take me on your own? If you knew what you were doing, you’d have had a bigger team, or were you trying to create a good impression with the boss?’
‘As usual, you think you know it all.’ Finch sneered.
‘Actually, I don’t. How did you know where to find me?’
Finch shrugged and started to sing. ‘Follow the yellow brick road. Follow the yellow brick road. Follow, follow, follow, foll—’
‘Mason?’ Helix clenched his teeth. Not so much at the singing, which was bad enough. Had Mace sold them out? It would also explain why Sofi hadn’t been able to contact him to arrange the return trip.
‘We’ve been watching him for months. Him and anyone else who visited via his back door, if you get my drift.’ Finch clapped. ‘It didn’t
