“Apart from insulting my parentage, no,” Hallie said. She was exhausted. Her body felt unbelievably heavy as she plodded along the corridor towards the office. “There was one searching the office and another in my room upstairs.”
“So, they separated? One came to kill Manju, you and Girard, and the others went to search?” the director asked, voice sharp.
Hallie stopped in the middle of the corridor, swaying slightly.
“What’s wrong? Miss Talbot?”
“Sorry. Sorry. I just … I hadn’t actually fully realised they were trying to kill me, or Girard,” Hallie said, her voice too high and thin. “Which is silly, isn’t it? I mean, they shot at us.”
“What happened first? Did they shoot Manju or Girard first?”
“Manju,” Hallie said, absolutely sure of that. “Head shot. He was sitting facing the doors.”
“Did you get more information from him?”
“No. We hadn’t been sitting for long. It was the evening meal,” Hallie said, distracted by the small details. She hadn’t finished the plate of food. And would not now be able to thank Kasmo for the delicious meal.
With the director’s prompting, Hallie moved through the house again, letting him see images of the attackers and taking still photos as well, which she also managed to send to him. With the phone connection still open, she headed back to the corridor and Girard. After checking his pulse and breathing, Hallie settled on the floor on the other side of the doorway and tried to ignore the tears on her face. It seemed stupid to cry now that the danger had passed, and Girard was still breathing but it was taking a lot of effort to stop.
“Miss Talbot, are you injured?” the director asked.
“Ah, I don’t think so,” Hallie said, glancing down at herself. “No wounds that I can see.”
“You were holding your arm close to you,” the director said.
“Oh. Yes. I suppose it’s a bit sore. I shoulder-charged the attacker who was in my room and he was wearing body armour,” Hallie remembered, realising, now that the director had pointed it out, that she was holding her arm close to her body and that there was a dull ache at the very top of her arm.
“Yes, that would hurt. There will be an ice pack in the medkits. That might help.”
“Good idea,” Hallie said, pulling the open medkit towards her and finding the ice pack. It was one that cooled automatically when it was applied. She rested her back against the door jamb, blissful cool numbness seeping across the joint. “Will you be notifying Kasmo and Oreste’s families of their deaths?”
“I will see to it personally,” the director said.
“Will you please tell the families how sorry I am?” Hallie asked, a crack in her voice. “They have been so helpful and valuable over the past couple of weeks. I will miss them a lot.”
“I will pass that along,” Peredur said. She could hear the sorrow in his own voice and had to blink away more tears. Not that long ago - a matter of months - she would never have believed it was possible that anyhochlencould be genuinely sorry at the death of one of thekarlenwho served them. But she knew better now. There were definitelyhochlenwho cared. Peredur Roth was one. And so was Girard.
Sound outside the building snapped her head up and dried her tears. It was the first external sound she’d heard. The building had excellent soundproofing.
“What’s wrong?” Peredur asked.
“There’s something or someone outside.” Hallie got to her feet and drew her gun. She’d remembered to reload it and headed down the corridor towards the front door of the house, heart thumping. Then realised that the external sound had a familiar rhythm to it. “There’s a helicopter overhead.”
“That’s your backup. They made better time than I thought,” Peredur said. “The team leader is Frollo. The password is Veracity.”
“Alright,” Hallie said, hoping she sounded as if that meant something to her. She reached the locked and bolted front doors just as someone knocked on the other side. She checked her first impulse to open the door, glaring at it instead. It might not be someone friendly on the other side and her voice was hard when she called out. “Who’s there?”
“It’s Frollo Howard, ma’am.”
“Password?” Hallie asked.
“Veracity.”
“Give me a moment.” She put the gun away and, still holding the phone with one hand, wrestled with the door locks.
She opened the door to the roar of helicopter engines overhead and the courtyard in front of the house apparently full of armed men. No, not all men. To her surprise at least two were women, judging by the silhouettes in the night. They were all dressed head to toe in black with helmets rather than knitted masks covering most of their faces. The man closest to the door grinned as she stared out at him.
“I hear you’ve been having fun without us, ma’am.” That was Frollo. She’d know his seemingly careless manner anywhere. “Sitrep, please,” he said.
