CHAPTER FIFTEEN
It was a large, sleek kitchen with stainless steel cabinets and two islands in the middle of the room, set with several hobs. Had it been an ordinary day, it would be a hive of activity. Now, it was eerily quiet.
Athos walked in ahead of Martina, his eyes roaming around the room, taking it all in. At one end of the room, he saw what he had hoped to see, a row of steel utensils, hanging from racks. There was also a row of coat hooks, where several aprons hung, along with a backpack.
"It's like Jurassic Park," Martina whispered, looking around at the deserted kitchen.
Athos looked at her, uncomprehending. She waved her hand for him to forget it, doubting that velociraptors were even on his radar.
"Where is the Restaurant from here?" Athos asked, wishing he had paid more attention to the damned map that Aramis had.
"Through here," she said, walking to the doors before he could stop her. She disappeared through them, the double doors swinging smoothly shut behind her.
Before he could shout a warning, he was grabbed from behind, an arm around his throat. He twisted, kicking backward, but the man was strong and merely pulled him around, tightening his arm. Athos felt his breath hitch as his chest begin to burn. Unable to warn Martina, his eyes on the doors through which she had disappeared, he bent at the waist, trying to put the man off balance. He kicked backward again, his heel connecting with the man's knee. The man grunted and started to twist his neck. He reached up and grabbed the man's arm but it was solid muscle. He had seconds to get the upper hand as they crashed into a bin on the top of a long line of metal cupboards. The bin fell to the floor, sending loaves of bread cascading under their feet. The man stumbled, taking Athos with him. Black spots appeared at the edges of his sight and his arms began to feel heavy.
He had no strength left.
Suddenly, there was the sound of metal hitting bone and the man dropped like a stone. Athos staggered to the side, trying to draw breath, and Martina stood before him, a large iron skillet in her hand. Eyes wide, she dropped it on the floor, the noise reverberating through his head as he slowly slid down to the floor, next to the body of his would-be killer.
"Is he dead?" Martina whispered, urgently.
"I do...hope so," Athos gasped. She slid down beside him and waited until he could breathe enough to slow his heartbeat a little.
"Make no mistake, Martina," he finally managed, "He would have killed us both."
She nodded, pushing her dark hair behind her ears.
"Thank you," he added, sincerely.
"How many of them are there?" she asked then.
"We don't know. There were six when we met them the first time in the warehouse. Perhaps more this time. Perhaps less, as they have the advantage of us being unprepared."
She picked up one of the loaves. "At least we have lunch," she said. Athos laughed, his chest still heaving.
"Having a party without me?" a familiar voice said behind them.
Aramis came quickly into the kitchen, his eyes taking them both in, before settling on the body clad in blue overalls.
"I take it this isn't one of the decorators?" he said softly.
It was Martina's turn to laugh. "Definitely not the decorating kind," she replied, before growing serious and looking at both of them.
"I thought we were meeting back in your room?" Aramis said.
"I got distracted," Athos replied. "It's probably for the best, our rooms won't be safe. They will have checked the register.
Aramis reached out and placed a gentle hand on Athos's shoulder. "Alright?" he asked, softly.
"Just about," Athos grunted. "Did you find anything?"
"They've chained the gates up, so we can't get out there. I saw two of them in the trees, probably getting the lay of the land. I think most of them are in the East Wing. This one must have been a straggler," he finished, nodding toward the body. "Or a scout," he added.
Athos frowned, detecting a hesitancy in Aramis.
"Anything else?"
On the verge of sharing his experience in the elevator, Aramis looked directly at Athos "No, nothing," he said.
"Are the freezers on?" Athos asked, suddenly distracted.
"Yes, one of them is," Martina replied, after checking both the walk-in freezers at the end of the room.
"They must be on the generator circuit," Athos said. "It makes sense; under normal circumstances, they wouldn't want to waste food in the event of a power cut."
"What now?" Martina asked, leaning over one of the islands and waiting for a plan. They were security agents after all.
"Put him in the freezer I suppose," Aramis smiled.
"You know what I mean," Martina shot back, though she almost smiled back.
Aramis flicked his thumb over his shoulder. "There's another one out there, had to fight my way in," he said, before turning to Martina. "Is there room for two?"
Her mouth dropped open, but she managed to nod.
"Might need a little help," he said, looking at Athos. "Are you up for it?"
Athos nodded and they both cautiously left the room, leaving Martina gaping after them, before wrapping her arms around her body against a sudden chill. She hurried over to the working freezer and pulled up the handle. An icy blast hit her in the face as she pulled the door open and stepped aside, just as Aramis and Athos pulled the other dead man into the room, each holding an arm. As he slid across the floor, the dead man left a red trail. Martina gulped back her stomach contents as she saw the knife in his neck.
"Is that Dr K's letter opener?" she said in a shocked voice as they passed by, preparing to drag the man into the freezer.
"It is, luckily for me. His gun jammed, so I took the opportunity. Shame about the gun though," Aramis said, regret tingeing his voice.
"We have his," Athos said, tilting his head at the body of his own assailant. "Hopefully he has looked after it."
As they came out of the freezer a few minutes later, seemingly unperturbed by what they had done, Martina asked again - "Er … do you have a plan?"
"We lay low and fight them at night," Athos said, almost immediately. "Once the night generators have kicked in, we will be able to mark out our battleground. They are probably waiting for that, anyway. It is the hunt they are after, not an easy kill, or they would have accomplished that by now."
He felt Martina shudder beside him. "I'm sorry," he began.
"No, don't be. I trust you to be honest with me," she said, turning to Aramis, "Both of you," she added, realising that of the two of them, it would be Aramis who would tend to embellishment or make light of things.
"Agreed," Aramis sighed, sitting back on his haunches.
"Is there any food in here?" he asked, which made Athos and Martina both huff out a laugh.
Athos rechecked the freezer, working his way around the body on the floor. On a shelf further inside, there were plastic boxes of pre-cooked delicious looking meals stacked on the shelves. He picked one up and brought it back into the room, handing it to Aramis with a shrug.
"Nothing edible," he said.
"The staff must have prepared these meals to cover the next few days renovations. Unfortunately, with the power cut, there's no means to defrost or re-heat them," Aramis said, with regret.
"There are biscuits," Athos said, picking up a nearby box of shortbread.
"I love shortbread!" Aramis beamed, looking up from one of the fridges that he currently had his head in.
Aramis found some cooked meat in the fridge that was still working, courtesy of the generator that was powering the fridge and said freezer. There was also a carton of milk, which Martina pulled out, pronouncing it still fresh after a quick sniff. Athos completed their would-be meal with a loaf of bread that had thankfully not fallen on the floor.
Athos relieved the body of his own assailant of his gun, which had a full bullet clip, and he and Aramis dragged him into the freezer to join his comrade, pushing the door shut and dropping the handle down.
"We need to find somewhere to lie low and rest," Aramis sighed. "Somewhere we can lock ourselves in for a few hours and work out our strategy."
"There's a cellar?" Martina suggested, after a moment.
"A cellar?" Athos said.
"A wine cellar," Martina clarified. "We have our own vineyard, down in the valley," she added.
"I didn't see a wine cellar on the map," Aramis frowned.
"It isn't on the map, it would not do to let our clientele know, alcohol for some of them is a little restricted," she replied.
"I noticed," Athos grunted.
Aramis moved quickly around the room, attempting to pull open drawers but they were all locked, so he crossed over to the rack of utensils and began pulling some off and examining them.
"Well, this is all very disappointing, but this could cause some damage," he whispered loudly, holding up a wooden meat tenderiser, akin to a hammer with small spikes. He also grabbed a metal meat hook. Finally, he pulled the backpack off its hook and unzipped it, emptying the contents onto the floor.
"Cookery books, mainly," he muttered. "Oh," he added, looking up with a grin, "And a ... magazine!"
"Aramis," Athos warned, though a small smile played on his lips.
"I know who that belongs to," Martina laughed. "I'll have words with him when I see him next."
Her smile dropped quickly away though at the sudden reality of their situation.
Feeling the tension, Aramis reluctantly left the magazine and shoved the rest of his spoils and the food into the empty back pack, before looking up at her with raised eyebrows;
"So tell us, mon cher," he said, hoisting the backpack onto his shoulder. "Where, exactly, is this cellar?"
/
