Hooded Man (112 page)

And while the villagers were dealing with German soldiers coming up through that tunnel into New Hope, Tanek and his team would concentrate on breaking in through the front door, sealing this locality’s fate. Once they were inside, they’d see just how fast the woman and her child were given up.

That moment had now come, his men preparing to blow the lid on that secret door. Tanek felt satisfied this was going to end well.

But more than anything else, he was looking forward to seeing De Falaise’s woman again.

They still had unfinished business.

G
WEN HAD POSTED
at least three people on the tunnel door in the village grounds. Like Karen before them, they had orders to shoot whatever came through that didn’t look like one of theirs. The only person out there was Karen, and no reports of her return had been made, more’s the pity. Even if she had come back alone, then she wouldn’t be able to get past the Germans to crawl through the tunnel.

“Chances are it’ll be unfriendlies,” she warned. “Don’t give them the chance to fire on you first.”

In the meantime, Gwen had gathered the rest of the villagers and handed out weapons to anyone who wasn’t yet armed. Whether they’d have enough firepower was another matter, but they’d bloody well try to fight those bastards off. Gwen would, at any rate – she still wasn’t sure about some of her fellow villagers. Would they turn their guns on her to hand over Clive Jr? Would she have to shoot the very people she’d been trying to look after all these months? People she’d lived alongside, fought alongside?

She’d find out soon enough, because the word came down from Henry that the hatch door had been breached and men were climbing inside the tunnel. Gwen made sure Darryl was
extremely
well armed – a rifle, a shotgun and two pistols – and told him to stand guard over both her house and Clive Jr, while she waited out in the street. It was the longest wait she’d ever endured; even those hours back at the castle when she’d been De Falaise’s prisoner hadn’t been as bad as this.

Gwen shook her head; such thoughts made her angry, made her want to put a bullet in every one of those men invading her home, and distracted her at a time when she needed to be focused. She gripped her Colt Commando rifle, holding it across her chest like a shield.

Although they were expecting something to happen, the loud
bang
still came as a shock. But what happened next, none of them could have predicted. The door to the tunnel on this side was blown clean off its hinges, but what came out of the tunnel wasn’t men. At least not at first. Grenades were tossed up, causing the villagers defending it to move back. They began coughing, as multi-coloured smoke – some of it yellow, some orange, some blue – got into their lungs.

“No, stay where you are!” shouted Gwen, running towards it. But that was easier said than done when they could hardly breathe.

The next thing they knew, German soldiers were inside. Nobody saw them climb up through the hole, they just appeared wearing gasmasks, striding through the smog, rifles held high and zeroing in on the villagers surrounding the trapdoor. Several shots were fired and men and women fell straight away. Carol Fawkes was shot point blank in the face.

Gwen opened fire on the advancing soldiers. They were spreading out, some heading to the nearest cottages and taking up covering positions – or maybe searching them? – others crouching in order to pick off the sentries up on the wall. Henry was one of the first to buy it, standing and firing on the men and being riddled with automatic rifle fire for his efforts.

Gwen barely batted an eye; she didn’t have time. The soldiers were getting closer and closer to her house – to Darryl and to Clive Jr. Hefting the rifle up to her shoulder, Gwen aimed at one of the soldiers and got him directly between the eyes. She’d become so much better with a gun than when she first used one to kill Major Javier, the man who’d slaughtered her beloved Clive.

She turned, shooting another German who was coming up on her left. Then she fired at a group on her right, breathing hard – relishing the feel of the rifle as it pumped out bullet after bullet. A smattering of machine-gun fire forced her to pull back behind the wall of a house, but she immediately bobbed her head back round the corner, firing again.

Screams filled the air, but some were taking her lead, realising that if they didn’t fight, they’d die. Two or three had taken cover behind a notice board. The wood splintered as German troops fired at them, but they ducked and returned fire, causing the soldiers to try and find shelter now. One didn’t make it; shot in the legs as he ran.

Gwen grinned, targeting the fallen man and putting a bullet in his chest to make sure he was out of the picture.

“Fall back!” she heard someone shout, and for a moment Gwen thought it might be the Germans. No such luck: it was another team of villagers, being driven into doorways by an advancing squad of enemy soldiers. They just kept on coming out of that hole. Gwen needed to put a stop to it. She moved up, sliding along the wall of the house she’d been using for protection. Then she ran across, making the most of the thinning smoke cover. She could see the tunnel entrance, and put several bullets in a German using his elbow to climb out. Gunfire raked the ground ahead of her and she dived out of the way, rolling and coming up shooting. She clicked empty and sprinted towards the bench just ahead of her, leaping over and ducking behind it as more bullets followed in her wake.

She ejected the magazine, grabbed another from her pocket, slapped it in place. Then she got up and rested on the back of the seat, firing in the direction the bullets had come from, shouting in triumph when she saw one German soldier fall to the ground.

Just when she thought they might stand a chance, there was an explosion at the front wall.

Jesus
, Gwen thought.
What now?

She wished she hadn’t asked when she looked over and saw the gates flung wide as Tanek’s armoured vehicle smashed through.

“Shit!”

Villagers fired at the jeep, but their bullets just zinged off. One man was caught in the vehicle’s path, turning as it was upon him; he fell under the wheels and was crushed, head popping like a melon.

More German troops entered behind the armoured car, picking their targets, not wasting a round. How did she ever think they could stand a chance against professional fighters like these?

Then there he was, climbing out of the jeep. He was even bigger than she remembered, but that dour face, that olive skin was the same. He’d only been out a few seconds and he’d already put two crossbow bolts into someone. Tanek was coming for her son, but she was damned if she was going to let that happen.

Gwen came out from behind the bench, heading back in the direction she’d just come from: heading Tanek off at the pass before he could reach –

“Shit!”

The giant was striding across, busting in door after door and killing whoever resisted. He was checking every house for Clive Jr, and he didn’t have many to go. Sam Coulson came up behind Tanek, rifle raised. Gwen held her breath, watching as Sam was about to pull the trigger, but Tanek had already sensed his presence and was spinning, so quickly Sam didn’t have time to fire. The weapon was knocked clean out of his hands and Tanek grabbed him by the throat, lifting Sam into the air as though he weighed nothing. If Gwen had been closer – and if there hadn’t been so much noise – she probably would have heard the cracking of the bones in Sam’s neck as Tanek squeezed. Sam’s eyes bulged, his tongue flopping out as he dropped to the ground, legs giving out beneath him.

Tanek looked around, hardly flinching as bullets ricocheted off the building behind. It was then that he saw her. His eyes narrowed and he pointed, as if to say ‘I’m coming for you.’ Gwen had to admit, she was scared. Probably the first time she had been since the castle. Not for herself – for her son. Because she could see now that De Falaise’s old second in command was on a mission, and he wasn’t about to let
anyone
get in his way. Without looking, he held his crossbow out to the side and shot another villager – a young woman this time – twice. One bolt between her breasts and another in her temple.

So much death. Too much
, thought Gwen. But this wasn’t over yet.

She was distracted by Jeffreys being dragged out of the doctor’s surgery. He was pleading with the soldier who had hold of him.

“Where is the boy?” asked the German.

Jeffreys said nothing, so the soldier shot him in the shoulder. Jeffreys screamed and clasped his hand to the wound. The soldier put the gun to Jeffreys’ head. “The boy!”

Jeffreys glanced over to where Gwen was standing, and she gave a small shake of the head, pleading with him not to do it. But she could already see in his eyes he’d made the decision. He pointed at Gwen’s house. “In there. Please don’t –” His final words were silenced by the
blam!
of the pistol as it blew his brains out.

Gwen felt nothing at his death, the betrayal still stinging. She couldn’t even consider what she might have done in his position; could only think about the fact her son’s location had been given away. The German was already motioning towards Tanek.

“No!” shouted Gwen, training her rifle on the soldier who’d just killed Jeffreys. She opened fire, the bullets smacking into his body, so many he was lifted off his feet. Perhaps she thought that by killing him she could somehow turn back time; erase what had just happened.

But
nothing
could do that and, as Tanek began to head towards her home, Gwen ran. She was halted by a rain of bullets from a semi-circle of soldiers who appeared out of nowhere. Gwen fired into them, but such was the intensity of the return fire that she had to duck back behind a wall. If she fell here, then Clive Jr was as good as Tanek’s.

Gwen peered round the corner and let off a few more rounds. Then she was empty. There were no more magazines left, so she dropped the rifle and took out her pistol, cocking it. She reached down for the knife she kept strapped to her ankle.

She came out, making every shot with the pistol count, taking out four soldiers with the first volley. Gwen threw herself down and slashed at another soldier’s calves with her knife, causing him to drop to one knee. Then she plunged the knife in his ribs. He toppled over onto his face, twitching.

Gwen rose with one eye still on Tanek, who was about to enter her house.

“Gwen! Watch out!” she heard, and then she was being pushed out of the way, falling to the ground and landing awkwardly on her shoulder. She looked up as bullets hit her rescuer. It was Andy, who’d staggered out of the doctor’s, perhaps in the vain hope he might be able to help Jeffreys. Instead he’d taken about a dozen bullets for her. He turned towards her, an expression of disbelief on his face.

“Andy!” she cried. But it was too late. He was beyond hearing her.

Squeezing off a few rounds in the direction of the German machine-guns, she didn’t waste the opportunity he’d given her. She raced after Tanek, just as someone came crashing through the living room window of her house. The body was covered in shattered glass, and rolled a few times before stopping. Darryl.

“No... Christ in Heaven, no!” she wailed.

Tanek emerged from her place, carrying a crying Clive Jr – holding him by the scruff of his T-shirt and brandishing the crossbow as if daring anyone to take the child from him.

“
No!
” she screamed, running forward. Then, suddenly, she was aware of the fact that she wasn’t moving anymore. Her leg had given out, and a white hot pain spread through her thigh. Looking down, she saw the bolt there, embedded deep. She began to crawl, holding up her pistol with a shaky hand but not daring to fire in case she hit her son. Gwen was a good shot, but not
that
good, especially in this condition. Then another bolt slammed into her shoulder, causing her to drop the gun altogether.

Machine-gun fire continued unabated all around as the pain kicked in, and she realised that no one was going to ride in and save the day. Not Robert and his Rangers, not anybody. He’d probably left her to it just to spite her, assuming Karen had even made it to the castle.

“If only De Falaise could see you now,” Tanek shouted over the noise.

“L-leave my son alone, you bastard!”

“Sorry, I made a promise.”

What promise? Gwen didn’t understand what all this was about. Wasn’t really interested – all she wanted was her son back. She would give anything for that.

Tanek raised his crossbow once again, aiming at her heart. “And now your role in the story ends.”

It was at that moment Clive Jr began to wriggle and kick out. Tanek pressed the trigger, and the bolt went off target, but still hit Gwen, just below the ribs. She sucked in air through her teeth as it sank in.

At the same time there was a hissing sound. More smoke bombs had been thrown into New Hope, but they didn’t originate from the hole. And it didn’t appear to be the Germans who’d set them off. They looked at each other, mystified, as red smoke filled the area. Tanek looked over, frowning.

Gwen squinted, catching glimpses of figures in the smoke, moving through the German troops. Taking them down with the kind of skill her villagers would never possess. Professional fighters, even more professional than the Germans. Gwen grimaced from the pain, but started to feel a glimmer of hope, especially when she saw a hood.
Karen made it after all!
And it looked like she’d brought back company.

There was only one thing wrong. Where were the arrows? Where were the bolas those men favoured? She saw a flash of metal. Yes, swords: they used swords instead of conventional weaponry. But, when one of the hooded figures appeared beside a German soldier, bringing down his blade across the man’s wrists and severing his hands, Gwen knew this wasn’t Robert and his men. Blood pumped from the soldier’s wrists as he raised them, looking uncomprehendingly at the stumps. He didn’t have to suffer for long, though, because the hooded figure twirled and cut off his head in one quick, clean stroke. It was as the blade lowered that Gwen saw it wasn’t a broadsword he was holding, but a machete.