The woman was all caring and sharing now — why? So Mary would have sympathy for her? Another tactic? Were these more lies? Mary couldn't tell for sure, but Adele's eyes appeared to be welling up.
"I never really knew who he was until the end. Until my mother…"
Mary thought about what had happened to David, about caring for him when he died.
Don't get suckered in Moo-Moo. Don't make this about me, concentrate on what she's saying. Listen, really listen.
"I found some stuff in an old trunk in the attic of the house," Adele went on, as if she needed to get this out, share it with someone after so long. "Papers, old photographs. I knew my father had been a soldier, but nothing more. I didn't even know his real name until then. Can you imagine?"
Was it Mary's imagination, or did Adele's voice sound different, as she was becoming more emotional?
"She told me he died in some accident while he was serving abroad. The bitch! Why? Why would anyone do that?" Adele was beseeching Mary, and now the tears did roll down her face. "Everyone has a right to know where they came from, don't you think?"
The more Adele talked, the more her accent was slipping.
Born and brought up in Durham my arse… said David.
"Everyone has a right to know their father, Mary! I'd lay odds that you knew yours," Adele almost snarled. "So I set off to look for him. I had nothing but a name. I did not even know if he was still alive. I mean, my blood was his blood, but then we live in such dangerous times. I must have toured the breadth of Europe in those couple of years. But on the streets you hear rumours, and it only took one person to tell me they'd heard that name. One person who'd come across my father. Apparently he had been travelling too. Making friends all over the place. Enemies as well."
Mary began to move her hand slowly, down and sideways.
"Then he headed across to England. I suppose he thought he could start again. I can understand him wanting to come, I spent some time here myself in my teens. Mastered the 'lingo' pretty well, too, don't you think?" For this last bit Adele's accent jolted back to British, but when she spoke again she didn't bother hiding her true voice, her native accent. "So I followed his trail. All I wanted to do was meet him, get to know him, non? But by the time I got over here it was already too late. He really was dead this time. He'd been murdered."
Mary's trembling fingers made their way slowly towards the Peacemaker sticking out of the front of her jeans.
"Strange thing was, he'd been killed by someone wearing a hood, carrying a bow and arrow. A legend. And why was he killed?"
"Because he was a sadistic scumbag," Mary said seriously. "Because he took delight in other people's pain."
Adele shook her head. "Spin, created by those who slaughtered him in cold blood. He had power; he was The Sheriff!"
"He was going to hang people, Adele — if that's really your name."
"It is."
"He kidnapped me and put a sabre to my throat."
"Having spent time with you, I can certainly understand that." Adele's false smile now looked even more wrong. "My mother kept me from getting to know my father-"
"Wise woman," Mary broke in.
Adele scowled. "Then you people kept him from me forever. Well, I decided it was time you paid."
"So you thought you'd worm your way in here, have us all at each other's throats? Was that the plan?" Mary's fingers inched a little nearer to the handle.
"Sort of," admitted Adele. "I believe my father used to use the same methods of infiltration, to get inside his enemies' lairs. But it was always going to come to this in the end."
"It was no coincidence that Robert picked you up in York, was it?"
Adele shook her head. "Hardly. I've been studying the cult's movements, and Robert's, for longer than any of you realise. It wasn't hard to put myself in harm's way, to orchestrate a little… rendezvous."
Her fingers were almost there, just a fraction more. Careful, Mary, said her brother, which made her even more on edge. He only called her by her real name when he was angry with her or feared for her safety. She's crazier than her old man was.
"I must say, I can see why you're attracted to him," Adele stared at her, the tears all but dried up. "Under different circumstances and if I didn't hate his guts, maybe… Wouldn't be exactly difficult to come between you two, not with all the problems you've both got."
"You didn't come between anyone," Mary said defiantly.
"Right," replied Adele in a tone that made Mary want to punch her in the face.
"Look, we don't have much time. We're all in danger from The Tsar and-"
"Ah yes, The Tsar. An interesting twist," Adele said, stepping forward. "Even I had not foreseen that. I thought I would have to do this alone, but now… Maybe he might want to join forces, do you think?"
Hearing her talk like this, and now seeing her face — her true face — for the first time, Mary couldn't believe she'd been so blind. But then, how could anyone have known about Adele's real origins? She'd been so clever at hiding them. And in a post-apocalyptic world what did anyone really know about anyone?
"Especially if I give him a little inside help. It was only what I was going to do anyway, now that a good portion of your compliment are absent… or dead." She said this last bit with such hope, Mary made a grab for her gun — pulling out the Peacekeeper, cocking it, and pointing it at Adele's head. Adele didn't seem surprised; in fact she smiled again. That same crooked smile. De Falaise's smile. Mary was hardly likely to forget it.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Adele told her, then brought up her hands, turning around and showing what she was holding. A live grenade. "The pin's already pulled, in case you were wondering. All I have to do is let go of the trigger. I go, you go with me."
Damn it, said David in her head. What are you going to do now, sis? Mary didn't have a clue. She couldn't even tell Adele to drop her weapon, or they'd both go up.
Adele offered a solution. "So, I suggest you let me walk out of here with these." She shifted to one side, nodding down at a bag on the floor. Open, because Mary had disturbed her in the act, it contained a rifle, handgun, some more grenades, and what looked to be a mini-bazooka.
"You're not coming past me," Mary said. God knows what kind of damage she'd do with those, and at a time when they might be under attack from the outside as well.
"I don't have to," Adele barked. "I know there are other ways in and out of here." She grabbed the bag then walked backwards, picking her way through the Aladdin's cave of weaponry.
Mary's gun arm wavered. "Don't."
"You are not in any position to give me orders."
Mary hated to admit it, but Adele was right. All she could do was watch her as she retreated. When she was a good way off, Adele smiled again.
"I would like to say it has been nice knowing you, but…" Adele let the sentence tail off, then tossed the grenade at Mary.
Instinctively, Mary took a shot, but the woman was already gone. Then her eyes dropped to the grenade bouncing into the middle of the arsenal.
"Nuts," said Mary under her breath.
Run, Mary, run! shouted her brother, but she didn't need to be told, her legs were already in motion. She pelted out the way she had come, making it to the steps and almost all the way up them when the explosion came.
The blast rocked the cave, blowing dust, sandstone, and Mary out with it, causing a section near the exit to fall in just behind her. She felt something heavy land on her leg, pinning her to the steps, pain following.
Mary could see the light above, the open gate, but couldn't move. She reached out her hand, yet in spite of the efforts of her brother to keep her awake, Mary found herself blacking out. It sounded like another explosion went off then, but that one was distant. She let it go, able only to focus on one thing.