Thank you- Hallie told it.
The attacker was slumped on the floor, but she didn’t trust that they were unconscious. She pulled the flexi-cuffs from her belt and approached carefully, nudging one of the sprawled legs with her slippered foot. Nothing. She holstered the gun and turned the person, snagging their wrists and binding them together then nudging the person again. Still nothing. Perhaps thezauberhad knocked them out. She pulled off the knitted face covering and saw another stranger, a man with similar pale hair and pale skin to the first man. This one’s eyes were closed, suggesting he was unconscious rather than dead. Good.
She patted him down, finding another gun and a pair of knives, which she put into the office safe. Only she and Girard had the combination, which made it the most secure spot she could think of right now.
That done, she headed for one of the tall cupboards to grab the medkits that were stored there. Rather than wondering what she needed and how many to take, she just picked up the storage boxcontaining all the medical supplies and headed back through the house.
Girard was where she’d left him, his breathing harsh and rasping, the blood still flowing. She was torn between relief that he was still alive and fear at the extent of his injury. Worry sharpened when he didn’t react when she peeled his hand back from the wound or when she applied the largest field dressing she could find. She found a pre-filled syringe with painkillers and managed to get the injection into his arm, sitting back on her heels and looking into the dining room.
Manju was dead. She didn’t need to touch the body to work that out. He was slumped to one side, eyes still open, a hole in his forehead and a grotesque spray of blood and other matter on the wall behind his seat.
She looked back at Girard and thought that his colour was marginally better. Relief made her light headed before she drew in a slow, deliberate breath. He was holding his own. For now.
Kasmo. Oreste. They must have heard the shots, but they hadn’t come to investigate.
Panic seized her.
She got to her feet, pulling her gun out again and heading through the silent house towards the kitchen where she assumed Kasmo and Oreste would be.
She found Oreste in the doorway of the kitchen, a hole in his forehead matching the one in Manju’s. Kasmo was in the kitchen, slumped against the counter, another hole in her forehead.
Grief stopped Hallie’s own heart, pain seizing her. The pair had done nothing but their jobs, making the house comfortable for her and Girard. They hadn’t deserved to die.
She dragged her phone out and dialled the director’s number, her breathing shaky and ragged as she waited for the call to be answered.
“Miss Talbot. Is anything wrong?” Peredur answered on the third ring, concern in his voice.
“They’re dead,” Hallie said, her voice too high and quivering.
“Who’s dead? Miss Talbot? Hallie? What happened? Who’s dead?”
“Kasmo. Oreste. Manju. All dead,” Hallie’s voice cracked. She made her way back through the house to where Girard was still slumped in the doorway. For a heart-stopping moment she thought he wasn’t breathing but then she saw his chest rise and fall. Still alive. A tremor ran through her. “Girard’s been shot.”
“Is he alive?” Peredur asked, tone sharp.
“Yes. Shot in the side. I put a field dressing on and gave him painkiller.”
“Good. That’s good. Well done. What about the attackers? Are they still in the house?” It sounded like Peredur was moving, slightly out of breath, and there were muffled voices at his end of the call.
“One dead. One in cuffs. I haven’t cleared the rest of the house yet.” On that, a cold wave ran through Hallie.Stupid, stupid, stupid. “Saints. I haven’t cleared the house.” Her pulse thudded in her throat, mouth dry. There could be more black-clad killers waiting for her. And Girard was in no position to defend himself.
“Stay on the line with me while you do,” Peredur ordered. “Can you do that? I’ll mute my end, but put the phone on speaker so I can hear.”
“Alright,” Hallie said, made the necessary adjustment to the phone and put it into the front pocket of her tunic. “Clearing the downstairs first. Going quiet until it’s done.”
With her heart still thudding too hard and too fast, Hallie made her way through the still and dark house, starting at the office. She’d got one attacker there, but what if she’d missed one? What if there were even more black-clad, masked intruders lurking in the house?
With difficulty she pushed the panic and useless speculation aside. She had a job to do. She had to clear the house. Keep Girard safe until backup could get here. She could do this. She had to. There was no one else.
Chapter five
Halliehadspentagreat deal of time in her career as a skip tracer making her way, carefully and quietly, through abandoned and empty buildings, always knowing that the space might not be as empty as it seemed and that her fugitive could be hiding in the shadows. She hadn’t been allowed to carry weapons as a skip tracer, but her fugitives also hadn’t had access to powerful automatic weapons, either. As she made her way through the dark corridors of the house she wished for something as simple as an old warehouse to clear, with only a length of old metal pipe or a discarded bit of wood in her hands to use to defend herself. She had remembered to check her gun to make sure she had plenty of bullets, and was holding it in the two-handed grip that she’d been taught in her weapons training, just before she and Girard had left Daydawn. The training had been two full days of intense work with the commander of the Conclave Investigators’ tactical unit. Yasir Rojas had been unfailingly patient with her many questions and seemed to findher hesitation to learn how to use the more powerful weapons something to be admired not criticised. If she couldn’t have Girard beside her, she would wish for the commander, and perhaps the rest of his unit while she was wishing for things that were impossible. The tactical team would make quick work of searching the house and restraining any other intruders.
She made her way back through the ground floor, checking the grand sitting room with its crimson and gold tiles and floor cushions, then on past the dining room to the kitchen. The bodies of Kasmo and Oreste were still where they’d fallen. Hallie’s throat closed up and her eyes stung as she had to step over Oreste to get into the kitchen and past Kasmo’s outstretched arm to get into the pantry. There was no basement, which was a small relief, but Hallie still had to cross back through the kitchen and past the dead to get out into the corridor again.
Kasmo and Oreste’s rooms were tucked away in a narrow, plain corridor on the other side of the kitchen. Small rooms, both meticulously clean and tidy, with equally clean and tidy bathrooms and walk-in wardrobe spaces. There was another servant’s room, which was completely empty.
After that, Hallie checked the other rooms on the ground floor, which she and Girard had never used. A guest bedroom complete with a still-locked door leading out to the garden courtyard, and a couple of other large rooms that were currently empty.
