Chapter 16

For a second, there was no sound inside Gawain's room, with Holly sleeping and Jonas deep in thought.

"It sounds contrived," he finally said.

"I'm sorry?" Caradoc tried to push the shotgun away, but Jonas held it firm in their direction.

"What she said. It sounds contrived. You were reciting something."

"It's our official description," Gawain said. "'An independent international spy organisation operating at the highest level of discretion' sounds contrived?"

"Pretty much," Jonas said. He locked eyes with Caradoc for a long moment, then Gawain, and then propped the shotgun against the wall. "So you're the guys who took down Valentine?"

"Not specifically us," Caradoc said. "That was the team in Britain. But the clean-up was all us, if I remember."

"So you compiled that report as well?"

"I compile a lot of reports."

"The one without a single mention of you people. That credited US Navy SEALs with taking out Valentine."

"I did that one," Gawain said. "Pulled a lot of strings with the White House."

"Jesus, you guys are…" He rubbed his temples. "I don't even know what to fucking think anymore. I'm sorry I shot you."

"Forgiven," Gawain said.

"How'd you find us?" Caradoc asked, eyeing the shotgun leaned against the wall. "We never told anyone where we were going."

"Harker. He heard you say something in French, so I assumed you were going south. I drove all fucking night, and turn into a motel and the first thing I saw is the two of you. Not very covert for a spy organisation."

"That's because Garth knows everything about us," Caradoc said. "Well, not everything. But he's somehow got a copy of our database. You know anything about that?"

Jonas shook his head. "He kept me in the dark. Klaas might know, but…"

"Oh, Jesus. I'm sorry."

"The French guy shot him. And then they tried to throw me off the fucking roof."

"That guy used to be one of us. One of our top agents, too. We didn't expect anything like that."

"Is that why you're running?"

Caradoc nodded. "He's already killed our team leader and put our tech guy in a coma. Guy's a fucking animal."

Jonas rocked back and forth in his chair for a moment, a resting his stubbled chin on the his hand. "Then aren't you glad I'm here?"

"You've done enough," Gawain said. "We don't need your help."

"Fair enough then." Jonas picked up the shotgun and stood up. "I think I'll go to Versailles. Nice enough, and I'll have ample time before Garth hunts me down and kill me." He reached for the doorknob.

"Wait," Caradoc said.

Jonas turned around, smiling. "Yes?"

"How good a shot are you?"

Gawain grabbed his wrist. "You're not serious, are you?"

"I am." He twisted his arm out of her grip, and stood up. "Your file said you used to be in the US military."

"I was," Jonas said, sitting down. "Then I got a little bullet in my leg and they told me I was done."

"And are you done?"

"No, I'm not fucking done. Why do you think I agreed to work with Klaas? I went to Amsterdam to start a new life."

It was Caradoc's turn to smile. "It's not too late to do that. We're down two men, and we can use a marksman."

"On one condition." He crossed his arms and leaned back.

"Yeah?"

"You help me find Karlien. If she's alive, we save her. If she's not...well, I'm going to kill every single fucker I see."

Caradoc looked at Gawain, and she looked back at him. In that swiftly passing moment, he understood the look in her eyes, the twitch in her lips. He turned back to Jonas. "That's fine by me."

"Then I'm in. Do I get a codename too?"

"No, that's only for agents. And we'd never take in someone like y-"

The door opened, and Dr. Estok poked his head in. "I'm done with your frien-"

Jonas' shotgun was suddenly in his face. "Do I shoot him?"

"No!" Gawain pulled the gun out of his grasp and ejected the shells one by one, before tossing the weapon through the bathroom door. "Doctor, take a seat." She pointed to the bed Holly was flopped on.

Estok blinked, shuffled over to the bed and lowered his backside down onto the blankets. "W-what's going on?"

"How's he?" Caradoc asked.

"Uh, your friend...he's completely fine. But comas are unpredictable. I've no idea when he'll wake up, or how he'll be when he does. I'd look further, but we need an MRI, and only the hospital has one."

"We're not going back there, doc," Gawain said. "You're coming with us."

"W-what?" He looked through the bathroom door, at the shotgun lying empty on the floor. "Are you going to kill me?"

"No," Caradoc said. "As long as you keep your mouth shut, we won't do a thing to you."

Estok sighed. "Fine. What do you need me to do?"

"Any combat experience?"

The doctor's mouth began forming the word "yes", but he closed it. "No, I don't have any combat experience. I used to be a vet, though."

"Clearly, you do," Caradoc said. He picked up one of the shotgun shells Gawain ejected and placed it between the thumb and index on left hand. "You were counting the shotgun shells."

"It's not that simple." Estok's feet shifted on the old motel rug.

"It never is. Were you a field medic?"

"No, I wasn't. But I know how to use a gun."

"That's good enough for me," Gawain said. She stood up, picked the shotgun off the bathroom floor and tossed it to Estok. "All yours."

"Who are you?"

"We are…" Caradoc glanced at Jonas, who just smiled. "We are an independent, international spy organisation…"

"He got himself arrested," Garth said, slamming his phone down on the tabletop. "And tried to get me arrested, too."

The woman in black picked up his phone, scrolling down the caller ID list. "Where'd you get this?"

"I climbed over the wall. It was in one of the evidence bags."

"And nobody saw you?"

"Nobody."

She slid back towards him. "I may have underestimated you."

Garth beamed.

"But I'm going to put Marcel in charge anyway."

"What? Why?"

"You've failed too many times. Harker was our only source of information, and now he's gone. Thanks to you."

"How is this my fault?"

"You could have used Phoenix employees. But you had to go to Desmond Harker and his mercenaries. They're sloppy, you know that."

Garth said nothing, opting to sit down on one of the expensive leather chairs instead. "What now then? We don't know where they are anymore."

"That phone. Give it to Tahal's people and they'll get what they can from it. As for you…you and Antoine can go and assist our good doctor."

"For how long?"

"As long as it takes. Now go."

Garth stood up without another word, pocketed the phone and stormed out of the conference room.

"So who are you, doc?" Caradoc asked, spooning more of the microwavable macaroni and cheese into his mouth.

"What do you mean?"

"Clearly, you don't just know how to use a gun. You were counting the shells. You knew exactly how many there was going to be in the gun and you were going to dive for it if Val hadn't emptied it."

"It's a hobby."

"You're lying." Caradoc set his plastic box down on the bedside table. "There's no way you weren't in the military."

"If I told you, you wouldn't believe me."

"Try me."

Estok shook his head. "You're not going to trust me, aren't you? You seem like a smart man, Dr. Beumers. And that's a smart choice."

"I don't trust you according to how this is going. Would you trust someone if they won't tell you about their past?"

"I came here to get away from my own past, thank you very much. You needn't remind me." He bit into his store-bought sandwich. "Besides, the present is now. We can't change the past, but we can sure as hell change the future."

Caradoc nodded.

"What about you? You don't live in the past."

"Enough's happened in the past. I moved on."

"As did I. I'm not going to ask."

"It's getting dark. You can have the bed, I'll sleep on the floor." He scooped the rest of the macaroni cheese into his mouth and dumped the container in the bin.

"No, I'll sleep on the floor," Estok said. "I'll need to check on your friend every few hours anyway. He got a name?"

"I never asked." He was in the process of undoing his necktie when there was the screech of ties. "Doc, get the shotgun."

He pushed the blinds apart, just in time to see a large black truck screech to a stop, and figures in dark clothes jumped out the back. Caradoc pushed a button on his glasses. "Val, we've company."

"I saw," Gawain said. "What do you see?"

He turned on the infrared vision, watching the armed figures run across the parking lot. "TAR21s," he said. "A Blaser Tactical 2 as well."

"There's something else."

"Heavy?"

"Looks like an M32."

Caradoc pointed at the bathroom door. "In there now! With Oberon!"

Estok pulled the door open, shoved the comatose man inside and closed it. "You asked me if I had combat experience, yes?"

"Doc, get in there. There's a grenade launcher."

"We'll hide under the bed." He dropped to the floor and inched into the space.

Caradoc shook his head, and opened the front door.

There were footsteps on the stairs from the parking lot.

He ran and jumped slightly, bracing on the banister with his buttocks, and firing two shots into the black-suited men waiting below. He grabbed a TAR21 as he slid by, and fired in bursts at the truck.

A couple of figures ducked behind the vehicle, and Caradoc spotted the grenade launcher holder standing in the truck bed, the weapon already at his shoulder.

With a soft poosh something small and black flew towards the door of his room.

A massive fireball blossomed across the top floor balcony, sending bits of tattered and burning wood and plaster flying outwards.

Caradoc let loose a burst from his gun at the demolitions man, who dropped flat against the truck bed and popped out to fire back.

More of the suited men rounded the vehicle, firing at him.

He dropped the rifle and sprinted, ducking behind the corner of the motel just as the Blaser boomed and a large piece of the wall next to him had a new hole made in it.

Caradoc pulled out his explosive lighter, set a timer and placed it just around the corner he had just run through. He ran around the back, just in time to see Estok descending the fire escape with Oberon slung over his back.

With a roar, their news van tore through the wire mesh fence behind the building, and its side slammed into the building. Jonas poked his head out. "Get in!"

Caradoc opened the back doors, leaping in and holding it open for Estok, who laid Oberon down gently inside.

"Where's your girlfriend?" Jonas asked.

"She's not my- I haven't seen her!"

"We can't stay here." Jonas stomped on the accelerator, causing their car to shoot backwards, and out through the hole in the fence he had made on entry.

"Circle around," Caradoc ordered, shutting the doors.

Jonas drove in a loose loop around the motel several times, each attracting a bout of gunfire from the soldiers in the parking lot. Still, the armoured exterior held and with the speed he was driving at the grenade launcher wouldn't hit them.

"I don't see her," Caradoc said, his eyes swiping across the screen that was connected to the van's topside camera.

Suddenly, there were blinking lights in the sky.

"Shit!"

"What is it?" Jonas asked.

"Attack helicopter."

"That's it, I'm out." Jonas pushed harder on the accelerator, just as a trail of orange flew past their back and slammed into a grove of trees, obliterating them.

Caradoc pressed the same button on his glasses. "Val?"

There was only static.