Chapter 9

"Take the wheel!" Caradoc raised his pistol, and aimed with his good eye. He squeezed the trigger repeatedly, his bullets clanging harmlessly off the helicopter.

The boat lurched, and Caradoc held on to a handrail. His pistol's iron sights swayed with the motion of the boat, but he kept firing as Gawain turned the watercraft towards the helicopter, and the roar of the boat's engines grew louder.

A man leaned out of the helicopter, and Caradoc recognised Jonas from his photograph almost immediately. He snapped off a few more shots, but with the floor rocking below him, he missed by yards.

The distance between the Yvonne and the Huey was getting larger by the second, the old boat unable to catch up with a military aircraft.

Gawain opened the bridge door. "We need a faster boat."

"We don't have one!" He looked across the river, where other boats were fleeing at the sound of gunfire.

"There's no way we can catch up in this thing. Fuck the boat." She slumped against the bridge door.

As his adrenaline faded, Caradoc felt something rise from his stomach, burning the walls of his throat. He leaned over the side, and threw the rest of his breakfast up into the water. He wiped his mouth again. "That was Jonas."

"Did you hit him?"

"Couldn't get a steady shot. This boat is a piece of shit."

"Wait, he's coming back around." Gawain raised her pistol.

Caradoc propped himself up, and saw that the Huey was in fact making a turn. It stopped halfway, hovering in midair, one door open, and Jonas leaning out of it.

"He's going to shoot us." Gawain paled.

"We're still moving towards him, so we should be fine. He can't be that accurate, can he?"

"What if it's heat-seeking? They're usually like that."

"...shit."

Something cylindrical dropped from the Huey, splashing in the water. "Incoming!"

"Wait, I've an idea." Caradoc took the lighter grande out of his pocket, and flicked it open, arming it. He tossed the flashing grenade to the side, into the water a ways away from their boat.

Gawain closed her eyes.

Caradoc watched the blinking light fade as the grenade sunk.

Seconds later, a large column of water exploded out of the spot, drenching the two of them. A second, louder explosion then followed, with much more force.

"I can't believe that fucking worked." Caradoc raised his pistol again. They were getting closer to Jonas, who was loading another torpedo into the launcher stuck to the side of the Huey.

Before he could fire, Gawain squeezed off three rounds in succession, blowing holes in the pilot's side window.

The helicopter wobbled in the air, and the leaned towards a partially forested island ahead of them. It hit the trees, and its rotors tore off in the impact, slicing harmlessly through the leaves and branches, while the fuselage disappeared beneath the canopy.

"Good shot," Caradoc said. "I thought you couldn't drive a boat?"

"I learned," she said.

"Now for Jonas?"

"He and I have a problem." She went back inside the bridge to steer the boat.

Gawain stopped their boat beside the pier, and Caradoc leapt out, resisting the urge to kiss solid ground again.

Ignoring the protest of the dock guards and policemen, Caradoc sprinted between two buildings, and into the forest.

The brush was thick and green, inhibiting his movements as he waded through it towards the column of smoke that had begun rising from between the trees.

With a bang, something hot whistled past his face.

Caradoc pressed himself against the thick trunk of a tree, panting. To his right, Gawain was doing the same with another tree. He made a tube with his hand and held it over his good eye. Sniper.

Gawain made an okay symbol with her hand.

Caradoc raised finger, and drew a curved line in the air, away from himself. Flank him.

Gawain ducked into the brush, out of sight.

He leaned out of cover and fired a few times where he felt Jonas' bullet come from. He saw a shape move out of the way, and then the glint of Jonas' scope.

He turned back into cover just as the .50 cal round took out a large chunk of wood right next to his head. Caradoc swore under his breath, and popped out of the other side, shooting again.

Instead of a shot from a sniper rifle, he heard the stutter of an automatic weapon, and rounds raked the tree he was hiding behind.

The dry leaves just on the ground on the other side of the tree were suddenly crushed.

Caradoc grabbed the barrel of the MP5 just as it poked into his field of view, and twisted the weapon upwards.

Jonas pulled the trigger, firing bullets into the space just above Caradoc's shoulder, the muzzle flash from the barrel searing against the hairs on the side of his head.

He pressed his right hand to the nape of Jonas' neck, sending a high-current burst of electricity into the sniper, and knocking him away.

Jonas raised the MP5 and-

Click.

Swearing, he unslung the weapon and tossed it to the side, and drew his combat knife from its leg sheath.

Jonas made a choking sound as Gawain's shoe smashed into the area between his legs from behind. He dropped the knife and clutched his stomach, before falling to his knees.

"Jesus fuck, Val."

Gawain grabbed Jonas by the collar and slammed him against a tree. "What do you want from us?"

"I can't tell you."

She held the singlet ring close to his neck. "Oh, you can't? Care to elaborate on why you can't?"

"Valerie-"

"Be quiet, Dirk. Now, Jonas, why'd you shoot me?"

"That, I can tell you," Jonas said. "Your people attacked our bases in the Alps, and killed half our guards in the process. Tell me that doesn't warrant a fucking retaliation."

Gawain blinked a few times. "What about now? You just killed my friend, you know that?"

"I can't tell you!"

Caradoc pulled Gawain off Jonas. "Val, calm down. We won't get anything this way." He turned to Jonas. "Why can't you tell us?"

Jonas shook his head. "Please don't kill me. I'm just following orders!"

"The Nuremberg defense doesn-"

"Val! Shut up for a second. Jonas, who's ordering you? Is it Klaas Hekkers?"

"No! If I tell you they'll kill her!"

Caradoc raised his eyebrows at his partner. "Who are they?"

"Please, I can't."

"Jonas, listen, we can help has the resources to protect her from whoever it is, okay?"

Jonas said nothing.

"Who are they?"

"They don't have a name. Or at least, they didn't give me one."

"Who?" Gawain asked.

"A man called Garth. I don't remember his last name. He's with this French guy."

"Who's he threatening?"

"My girlfriend. Please, I'm sorry your friend is dead. My hands are tied."

Caradoc let go of Jonas. "If I find out you're lying to me, I'll kill you personally, understand? Actually, I'll let my partner do it, since you shot her and all."

Jonas nodded.

"Now get the fuck up. you're coming with us."

Klaas was enjoying the view of Amsterdam from the edge of the pier when he head the sound of a revolver being cocked behind him. "Hello, Harker."

"You got one of those fancy suits too?"

Klass turned to face the barrel of the gun in his face. "I'm not one of them. I'm Jonas' employer."

"And Jonas got three of my boys killed."

"I'd like to hire the rest of them."

"Not a fucking chance. You've five seconds to walk out of here before I shoot you in the head."

Klaas picked up the duffel bag at his feet and tossed it to Jonas. "That's my first payment."

"Say, I take this money and shoot you anyway."

"You won't."

"Don't be so sure about that."

"There's more where this came from." Klaas crouched down and unzipped the bag, revealing packs and packs of Euro notes. "And i'm sure you want more, don't you?"

Harker lowered the gun. "I can give you half my men."

"In that case, this is all you're going to get."

Harker bit his lip, deep in thought. He twirled the revolver around in his hand. "Fine. You can have all of them by Nassor. He's my bodyguard."

"Deal, Mr. Harker?"

"Deal."

Caradoc exited the cockpit, and took off his tie, throwing onto an empty seat. "Champagne, anyone?"

Gawain grinned at him, and hit the send button on the plane's computer. "I've just emailed Oberon. Hopefully we'll get the Garth guy by the time we land."

"It's not that easy."

"Nothing ever is, isn't it?" She looked over to Jonas, who was asleep across two of the seats. "But it's what we do."

"You seem a lot happier."

"Of course I am. We've just found the person who shot me."

"Not like that. I mean, is there something else on your mind?"

"Sagramore's daughter was sent me a thank you mail this morning. I helped her choose her ball dress."

"He has a daughter?" Caradoc dumped himself onto a seat.

"I didn't know that either until he asked for my help yesterday. Cute girl."

"You think I got a chance?"

Gawain raised an eyebrow.

"Just kidding, Sagramore's too scary. Besides, our job isn't exactly relationship-friendly." He reached across to the mini-bar and grabbed the bottle of champagne. "I'm going to ask again: champagne, anyone?"

"I want some," Jonas said, sitting up.

Caradoc popped the cork and poured some into a glass, passing it to Jonas. "Do you remember Garth's last name yet?"

Jonas took a sip of the champagne. "No, not yet. Klaas might remember."

"Pardon me, but…" Gawain moved to sit with Jonas. "How does a US military sniper end up working for some asshole corporate type guy? I mean, I know you were wounded, but there's a lot of jobs out there."

"I didn't start out like this. Ever been on the Darknet?"

"You were an assassin for hire?" Caradoc asked.

"Pretty much. I did whatever jobs were available. Then Klaas hired me."

"I'm guessing to kill off competition," Gawain said. "No wonder he's so successful. Did you kill the heads of his rival companies?"

"Actually, no. My first job with him was a hacker who stole some on the company's money. We've got it back now."

The computer produced a tone, and Gawain moved back into the seat in front of it.

Caradoc poured himself a glass of champagne. "Buy you'd say you were responsible for Klaas being successful?"

"Partly."

"Oberon just replied," Gawain said. "He said he got a match almost instantly." She turned the screen to face them. On it was the face of an older man with thin hair and a warm smile on his face. He was standing at a podium, in front of a crowd of people.

"That's him," Jonas said.

"Garth Hendricksen. Born in Pennsylvania, graduated with a degree in law. He was-"

"Wait, Garth Hendricksen the US senator?" Caradoc asked.

"Spot-on. Here's the catch: he died on V-day."

Caradoc choked on his drink. He took a few seconds to cough, and then looked up. "That's impossible. Merlin's signal killed everyone."

"Apparently not."

"If not, then who else survived?"

"I don't know about that, but I know something else."

"Yeah?"

"We're going to kill Garth Hendricksen."