women had neutralized two guards and were hunched down behind a large truck parked five hundred feet from the house.

The main house, a two-story country home as picturesque as any Robert had ever seen, was dark inside, except for lights in two rooms on the second floor. The house was well lit outside, with floodlights beaming down on the surrounding grounds.

“I count four guards we’ll have to bring down to reach the house,” said Sister Isabella, in the earpiece. “Two to the left, one on the right, and one on the roof.”

Thorne volunteered to take the two on the left. Sister Isabella, the man on the right. After the women were in position, Robert pulled a rifle with scope from over his shoulder, screwed on a silencer, and waited.

Thorne dropped both men without a hitch, her darts hitting them in their necks. Sister Isabella missed, but Robert caught hers twice in the chest before he could blink. The man on the roof leaned forward as though he’d heard a sound. Robert aimed carefully. The man caught a glimpse of Sister Isabella and put a handheld radio to his ear. Robert sent him falling backwards with a dead shot to the throat.

Robert ran for the house and pressed himself up against the wall.

Thorne and Sister Isabella followed. “Stay away from the windows,” he said. “I’m sure they have sensors attached. We’ll climb to the roof. I’m sure our friend up top has an easier entrance available.” Thorne and Sister Isabella acknowledged with a nod.

Robert stepped back and readied the rope and grappling hook, while both women kept a lookout for any surprises. Once the rope was secure, Thorne grabbed hold first and pulled herself up in no time. Sister Isabella went next, struggled just a bit, but made it up too. Robert started his ascent, but halfway up, Thorne hissed, looked down, and pointed to his left. Two guards approached. Robert quickly lowered himself back to the ground.

One of the guards caught a glimpse of Robert and aimed. Robert pointed the rifle, but before he could get off a shot, both guards were flat on their backs. Robert looked up. Thorne and Sister Isabella smiled and gave him the thumbs up.

Robert hid the bodies, climbed up top, and found an open entrance down into the house. “We have to move quickly,” he said. “The sedative in the darts will keep them out for at least an hour, but not much longer.” He led the way down into what looked like an attic bedroom, dim and musty, with cobwebs and rat droppings all over the floor. Fifteen feet from the window, he spotted a narrow row of steps that went down to a closed door. He carefully eased down, testing each step for creaks, not wanting to telegraph their presence. When they reached the door, Robert pressed his ear against it and listened, nothing. Thirty seconds later, they were on the second floor. Robert signaled for Thorne to check the rooms on the left. He and Sister Isabella took the rooms on the right.

Robert braced the rifle against his shoulder. Sister Isabella opened the doors. Each door they tried gave them the same, nothing. When they finished the floor, Thorne gave the all clear.

Robert pointed downstairs. The lights were off and they didn’t hear any voices. They edged their way down, guns pointing in every direction.

Robert smelled the sweet aroma of recently smoked tobacco, mixed with garlic and other unintelligible spices, all fighting for room in his nostrils.

They crept down a long hallway, where a door was cracked open at the end. A light was on inside, and when they reached it, Robert gently pushed it open.

Sitting in large recliner was a grandfatherly man, in a black Polo shirt, burgundy sweater vest, smoking a pipe. On the couch sat a vivacious, buxom Italian woman, who would’ve shamed the most alluring movie star. Rinaldo and Dianora. Rinaldo waved them over.

Dianora puffed on a cigar.

“Ahhh, Mr. Robert Veil, I presume. Come in, we’ve been waiting,” said Rinaldo.

Robert and the others burst inside, guns pointing at Rinaldo, Dianora, and all over the room. It was clear, except for the old man and his daughter.

“Get your hands up where we can see them,” barked Thorne, but the two were slow to comply. She walked over to Dianora, pulled her real weapon, a Glock, and pointed it at the Italian beauty’s head. “I mean it, gorgeous, now!”

Dianora smiled, and slowly raised her hands. “No need for rudeness.

We’re not armed.”

“My daughter speaks the truth,” added Rinaldo, packing his pipe with fresh tobacco. “If we wanted, we could’ve arranged a far more serious greeting, and you would not have gotten this far. But I wanted to meet you. Unfortunately, getting out won’t be as easy.” Robert eased toward the old man, Sister Isabella right behind him.

Robert checked Rinaldo for weapons. He was clean. Thorne gave Dianora a rough frisk.

“She’s clean,” said Thorne. Dianora gave her a hard scowl.

“Please, have a seat,” Rinaldo offered. “I have good wine, and enough tobacco to go around.”

Robert lowered his weapon, as did Sister Isabella. Thorne kept hers aimed at Dianora.

“Thank you,” said Robert. “But we don’t have time. We need information from you, fast.”

Rinaldo smiled. “If I can be of assistance, I surely will. What is it that you require?”

“We need to know the whereabouts of a little boy,” said Sister Isabella. “His name’s Samuel, Samuel Napier.”

“I’m sorry, Madam…” said Rinaldo.

“Sister,” said Sister Isabella, correcting him.

Rinaldo raised an eyebrow. “I’m sorry, Sister, but I’m afraid I can’t help you.”

Robert tensed. “Are you trying to tell us you’ve never heard of him, because we know different?”

“What my father’s saying is yes, we know Samuel, but no, we won’t tell you where he is,” said Dianora.

Thorne screwed on a silencer, and aimed lower. “I bet I can get you to talk.”

Robert leaned close to Rinaldo. “We don’t have time to fuck around,” he growled. “If you know something, tell us, or I’ll have my partner shoot Dianora.”

Rinaldo’s countenance changed from grandfather to tyrant in less time than it took for Robert to get out the words. “I said no, Mr. Veil, and I mean what I say.”

Robert turned and nodded to Thorne, who immediately shot Dianora in the left thigh.

Rinaldo jumped to his feet. “Bastardo!”

Robert pushed him back down. Dianora sprawled out on the couch, flailing up and down in pain.

Sister Isabella said a short prayer. “Tell us what we need to know, my child! Tell us!”

Dianora raised up, tears in her eyes. “Go to hell!” Thorne raised the gun to Dianora’s head. “You go first.” Robert grabbed Rinaldo by the collar. “Where’s Samuel?”

“There are forces involved in this you can’t stop. Power in places you know nothing of, and I…” Rinaldo began.

Robert turned to Thorne. “Shoot her again! Kill her!”

“Okay, okay!” Rinaldo bellowed.

Robert held up a hand. Thorne shot Dianora anyway, this time in the right kneecap. Rinaldo screamed louder than his daughter, reached under his desk and pulled out a revolver. Robert heard footsteps running through the house. Thorne shot Rinaldo in the chest as he fired. Sister Isabella stepped in front of Thorne, took the shot to the face, and dropped to the floor. Dianora reached under the couch cushions. Thorne hit her hard in the head with the butt of her gun, knocking her out cold.

Robert leaned over Rinaldo. “Tell us where he’s at!” Rinaldo opened his mouth, but only blood came seeping out.

Two armed men burst inside the den. Thorne killed both of them.

More footsteps rumbled their way. Robert went to Rinaldo’s desk and rifled through the papers. Thorne ran to the door and sent a stream of bullets down the dark hallway.

Robert poured through the papers and files, but nothing caught his attention. He dropped the tranquilizer rifle, pulled out two 9mm automatics and joined the fight with Thorne. Soon, they managed to push the guards back into the main house. Robert shot out a window and dove through it. Thorne followed.

Outside, Robert’s men came dropping over the wall, and soon the guards, outnumbered by firepower, jumped the wall and fled.

Father Kong dropped over the wall and ran over. “Where’s Sister Isabella?” he asked.

Вы читаете The Hammer of God
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