'Let's not make this difficult, Major,' Mouse-brown said.
'Gentlemen, I advise you to stand still and keep your hands away from your weapons.'
Medium-tall grinned and said, 'Begging your pardon, Major, but either one of us is ten years younger and ten years faster than you. You don't really think you're good enough to take us both?'
'Maybe. Maybe not. It would be more risky if I were alone.'
Mouse-brown said, 'There's no one else in your car, Peel. How stupid do you think we are?'
'Fairly stupid, I should say. Why do you think I stopped here, sonny? At this particular quiet spot in the country?'
Mouse-brown paused in his sideways drift and shot his partner a quick glance.
'He's having us on,' Medium-tall said. 'A bluff.'
'You think so?' Peel said. He smiled. 'You've been behind me since we left London. You think I didn't know that? I've had plenty of time to have a colleague arrive here. You seem like decent lads. Tell me who sent you and what you know, and perhaps you get to walk out of this. Otherwise…' he gave them a broad, theatrical shrug.
'Forget it,' Medium-tall said. 'We weren't born bloody yesterday!'
Peel raised his voice. 'Mr. Ruzhyo! Are you there?'
The barn door swung up with a creak of rusted hinges and Ruzhyo appeared in the doorway, though he did not step out from his cover. 'I am here,' he said. He held the silvery pistol in both hands, pointed at Medium- tall.
The two men started, surprised.
Men who had been under the gun, under fire, would have known they didn't have a chance. You could be faster than Billy the Bloody Kid from the holster but that wouldn't be nearly quick enough to outdraw a gun already aimed at you.
The two panicked and went for their guns.
Ruzhyo had Medium-tall, so Mouse-brown was Peel's. But before he could clear his weapon, Ruzhyo fired—
Medium-tall and Mouse-brown went down like sick-led wheat.
'Shit!' Peel yelled. He finished his draw and hurried toward the downed men. Both were wearing body armor under their jackets, he could see that as he got close. The vests had stopped two rounds each, just as they were supposed to. But the armor had not stopped the rest of Ruzhyo's Mozambique drill: two to the chest and one to the head. Both men had been shot between the eyes, and they were effectively dead before they hit the ground. Peel had never seen the drill performed better, not even in practice, much less in a hot scenario. Ruzhyo was a master shooter.
'Damn, how am I supposed to find out anything if you don't leave one alive to question?'
Ruzhyo gave him a Slavic shrug. He popped the magazine from the pistol, let it fall to the ground, reloaded the handgun with a second magazine from his pocket, then bent to pick up the fallen magazine. When he straightened, he reached up with one hand and pried a silicone ear plug from one ear, then the other, and dropped those into his pocket along with the nearly empty magazine.
Good God. Ruzhyo was so cool as to think about bloody
Well, there was not any help for it now. Best find out who these two were, if he could. Peel fished in Medium-tall's pocket until he found a wallet. He opened it, then stared at the ID card behind the clear plastic window. 'Oh, Lord! These blokes are MI-6! We've just killed two of his majesty's SIS agents!'
Ruzhyo shrugged again, scanning the countryside for witnesses.
Aside from the sheep, who seemed unaffected by the gunshots, there weren't any prying eyes.
Peel shook his head. 'Come on, help me move the bodies,' Peel said. 'We've only got a few minutes before they are missed.'
They were in the crapper now, weren't they?
'We have a problem,' Cooper told Michaels. 'We've lost contact with the team following Peel.'
Howard, Fernandez, and Toni had gone to the cafeteria to grab a quick bite, and Michaels was once again alone with Cooper in the conference room. 'Lost contact with them?'
'More than half an hour ago. Their last report was that they had pulled off the M23 near Balcombe and were about to detain Peel. We've been unsuccessful in our attempts to reach them since.'
'Do you have a way to find them?'
'Not exactly. The location transponder in their car stopped sending its signal a few minutes after their last transmission. We know where they were. We've sent a military strike team via helicopter to check it out.'
'They're either taken or dead,' he said flatly.
'We don't know that.'
'You wouldn't have scrambled an air strike team if you didn't think it was likely.'
She sighed. Put one hand on his forearm. Her touch was warm. 'We do fear something has gone awry.'
He stared at her hand. After a beat, she broke the contact. 'No chance for us, is there?'
'I — it wouldn't be a good idea. I'm sorry.'
'But you did enjoy yourself? As far as it went?'
'Ah… yes. I did.'
She smiled, but it was hollow. 'The good ones always get away. A pity. Your Ms. Fiorella is lucky, you know.'
'I think I'm the lucky one.'
She stepped back, out of his space, and glanced at her watch. 'Should be hearing from the strike team shortly.'
'Can we still stop Peel? If he is on his way to Goswell's estate?'
'Given the current situation, I doubt that DG Hamilton would want to risk another team. It would be safer to bottle him up at The Yews, if that's where he's going, and deal with him later.
In the MI-6 cafeteria, Fernandez swallowed a bite of what looked like Salisbury steak and mashed potatoes drenched by a half gallon of brown gravy and said, 'What's with the sub-commander?'
Fiorella had come to the cafeteria with Howard and Fernandez, but had quickly excused herself and left, looking pale.
Howard glanced down at his Thai chicken salad. He wasn't a gossip, but he had known Julio all of his adult life; the two of them didn't have many secrets from each other. And from Toni's face, the nickel had dropped. She had figured out about Michaels' extracurricular activities. Howard didn't need to get that specific, though, so he said, 'I think she and the commander might be having some personal problems.'
Julio washed another bite down with a glass of water and nodded. 'Cooper,' he said. 'Boss got biblical with her?'
Howard raised an eyebrow.
'She's gorgeous, smart, and she's been giving him looks,' Julio went on. 'And the boss stares at his shoes every time Cooper gets too close. She looks possessive and he looks guilty. And that looks like a done deal to me. Not that I'm telling you anything you don't already know. You picked it up.'
Howard nodded. 'Yes.'
Julio took another mouthful of the brown and steaming goop. 'I don't understand what all the fuss about how bad British cooking is about. Nothing wrong with it far as I can tell,' he said.
'Spoken like a true meat and potatoes man.'
'Yeah, well, Br'er Rabbit, why don't you have some more of that grass and twigs you got.'
A young man approached the table. 'Colonel Howard? Commander Michaels would like to see you, sir, as soon as possible.'
Julio shoveled another mouthful in, hurrying, as Howard nodded once and got to his feet. Now what?
