Alicia cocked her head. “Truly? I can’t promise that.”
Another round of laughter, another somber silence. Smyth shifted his feet. “I heard from Lauren today.”
Kinimaka tapped his pocket where Hayden’s phone had been put for safekeeping. “Me too, brah. Through Hayden. Secretary Crowe?”
“Yeah. Crowe’s pushing for our return. No Secretary ever pushed us this hard before — I mean to quit a job and go to another. It must be hell in Egypt right now.”
Drake nodded. “It’s a shitstorm over there. When we hit the ground we’re gonna hit it running.”
“First, we survive tonight,” Yorgi said.
“Yeah. And Lauren finally wants to talk.” Smyth hesitated. “Sort our own shitstorm out.”
Drake winced. “Great timing, pal. Did you mention… Joshua?”
“Crap, of course not! Why the hell would I do that? Anyway, it could be better,” Smyth allowed, infected by the odd, mixed mood of cheer and melancholy. “But it’s better than what we had…” He paused again and Drake looked away, sensing the gruff soldier might have more to say.
“When I said I was mentioned in Webb’s statement,” Smyth said. “I wasn’t fooling around. I am embarrassed all the time. That’s me.”
Alicia clicked her fingers. “So that’s why you’re a temperamental wanker twenty hours a day.”
Drake made a face and took Alicia’s hand in his own. “Still a long way to go, love.”
The Englishwoman turned her face up. “What? He is!”
“I’m embarrassed because of my family. Because of my past, and because of my name.”
Alicia was on it like a starving piranha. “What name? Smyth ain’t so bad.”
“My first name.”
Alicia considered it. “Always wondered about that. Well, so long as it’s not Biff or Cliff you should be okay.”
Mai made a small noise with her throat. “You know, my friend, you don’t have to share this with us.”
Drake wondered if she too might be in the statement, though he couldn’t decide which part might apply to her. He backed her up though. “Yeah, mate. No need to force yourself.”
Alicia nipped his arm. “Shhh!”
Smyth growled at the whole team. “Whatever. My name’s Lance. There you have it. It’s out there, and I’m clean. Well, apart from the family shit.”
“Lance?” Dahl repeated. “That’s a good American name.”
“Ya think, do ya? Well, it’s short for Lancelot.”
Alicia’s eyes widened to saucers. “Fuck right off.”
Kenzie started to bow, but Dahl caught her. Drake somehow managed to hold back a witty comment, though a dozen suddenly floated through his head. Smyth studied the group.
“Get ’em all out, guys. Might as well.”
But even Alicia knew now was not the right time. “Tomorrow, maybe. Or next week. Because today — we’re all business.”
Kinimaka pointed at the distant mountains, capturing their attention. “And Hayden’s out there. I hate to think what she’s enduring right now.”
Drake decided not to voice his own misgivings. As Alicia attested, now was not the time. The team agreed positions, signals, made sure their comms system was working. They discussed the traps and the villagers’ positions. They considered where the night creatures might attack and then run off to. It might be good, this time, to give chase — maybe putting a sense of fear into them. Smyth mentioned making traps all along their escape route — a sound plan — but the plateau and the hills were so wide open a direction could not be decided upon.
Drake sniffed the cold air, watched the scudding gray clouds above. “Night’s on its way,” he said. “Best be getting ready to fight.”
CHAPTER THIRTY THREE
Hayden watched Bruno carefully as the militia transporter walked around to the front of the truck. Two other men waited there, dressed in warm clothing. Bruno had whispered hurriedly that they were the men that would take the new recruits to the chateau. They were Dantanion’s men.
She flicked her attention to the back of the truck. It was small, no larger than a Transit, with white rusted paintwork and dented doors. The body was in disrepair; one of the plastic light covers shattered. One of the rear doors stood slightly ajar, and through the gap she made out seated figures. It occurred to her then that she could save these people — get them out of here — but then their one chance of gaining entry to the chateau would be gone.
Greater good, and all that.
She’d been working for and choosing the greater good most of her life. Where had it gotten her? No personal life to mention. Not even the sniff of a social life. A love life in tatters. The only thing she was good at, it seemed, was tracking down and engaging with bad guys.
Footsteps caught her attention and then all three men appeared around the side of the truck. “Get in,” one told her, and Bruno gestured at the open rear door.
“Wait,” the other man said. “We have to check her, brother.”
“Ah, thank you, brother. I almost forgot.”
Bruno rolled his eyes as the men stepped forward. One said, “You or I this time, Diaz?”
“You, Benedict. I will again check the truck.”
Both men bowed slightly to each other. Hayden stood without moving, trying to affect a beaten, weary stance which was as far from her character as possible. She dared not let Diaz see her eyes. In these men she saw a fluid grace, a well-contained power, and also a deference that could only have been forced upon them. The manner in which they engaged was the product of some kind of system, some other person’s ideal, for good or bad.
Diaz patted her down, pressed here and there, but did nothing to aggravate her. After a minute he nodded at the truck.
“Get in.”
She didn’t look at Bruno as she climbed into the back and took a seat on a dusty wooden bench. The seat was incredibly hard, and the backrest only the side of the van, making her hope they didn’t have far to go. Four people sat across from her. Three sat next to her. Two were men in their thirties, she guessed, the third a younger woman maybe early twenties. It was the younger woman that somehow managed a smile.
“Hey,” Hayden said.
“You don’t talk,” Benedict said, thick jacket rustling as he walked. “You don’t smile. You don’t stand. This is the law until you reach the chateau. Am I understood?”
Hayden wanted to challenge him with a stare, to stand and force the issue, but sat as meekly as the others, staring at the dirty floorboards that lined the base of the truck. Benedict grunted as if satisfied before jumping out of the back door and locking it. Moments later the engine started and the truck rolled out.
Hayden wondered if some kind of listening device might be planted somewhere around them. She didn’t want to risk the mistreatment of her fellow passengers so stayed mute. The journey gave her time to think anyway.
Snap decisions had brought her here. Was it time to change everything? They couldn’t run around like this forever. Mano annoyed her because he hadn’t made the right call — but who was she to judge that? And could she even trust her own judgment?
The truck jounced, rattling her spine. The smooth roads turned into ragged ruts, slopes and inclines. Hayden held onto the wooden bench seat as tightly as she could, catching the girl beside her when once she fell.
“Thanks.” A whisper.
“You’re welcome.”
The two men glared.
Hayden breathed more easily when the truck stopped and the back door opened. Outside, they lined up. Benedict and Diaz checked the area before signaling for Bruno to get on his way. The afternoon sun was bright, but offered no warmth, and the four of them shivered in silence.