“Simon! Simon!” The panicked screams of Anneli Kallasti were punctuated by the pounding of her feet on the stairway to the gallery. She was running as if from death itself. Swanson instantly jerked away from the world of vague thought back into the present and to a full mental alert. He moved away from the railing of the parapet and toward the stairway entrance, and heard heavier footsteps farther below.
“Simon!” came the cry again. “Are you up here?”
“Yeah, Anneli. I’m here. Come on up.” He had no idea what was happening, but the fright in her voice was clear. He stepped into the middle of the walkway to maximize the amount of room to deal with whatever was coming up that tight staircase.
She burst into the gallery with her hair in disarray and clutching the rail as she forced herself up the final steps and saw him there. Swanson could still hear the feet down below, coming closer with each second, and she fell into his arms, gasping for breath. “They came and took Brokk this morning! Now they are after me!” Her eyes were wide as she coughed out the words and sank to her knees.
“Who? Who took Brokk?” He raised her back up, and guided her to a nearby corner.
Her breath was slowing to strong, openmouthed gulps for air. “THEM! Two Russians in a big car took him away. Two more are chasing me. I didn’t know where to run, but I remembered that you were going to be in the castle today. Please help me, Simon. These are the people who make us disappear. They will take me away.”
The footsteps on the stairs were closer, but slower. Whoever it was had been slowed by the climb, while the young girl had been fueled by fright. Kyle rose to his feet, leaving her sitting beside the wall. “I believe you, Anneli. Let me see if I can sort this out, quiet them down and get the whole story.”
“No, Simon. They are killers! They will kill us both.”
“That’s not going to happen. You just stay right where you are while I talk with them.” Damn. The pistol in the clip holster beneath his sweatshirt could not be used — it was too noisy and there were too many civilians and guards were in the castle. It would have to go hand-to-hand.
Anneli responded with a low moan of despair and curled into a fetal position, with her face buried in her hands. Kyle turned from her just as the first man came up into the gallery, with a face that was flushed bright red from the exertion of the climb and etched in fury. He was a big, wide guy in an ill-fitting coat and his fists were balled up, ready to pound somebody. The black eyes glanced to the girl, then settled on Swanson.
So much for conversation. The silent equation was simply that to reach the woman, the attacker first had to go through the stranger standing before her. The big man charged.
Kyle slid his left foot forward as if taking a boxing stance, and the man flicked out a hard jab aimed at Swanson’s cheek. Swanson grabbed the extended left wrist with his own left hand as the fist whizzed harmlessly past, pulled and immediately cupped his right hand beneath the big guy’s armpit, which provided two points of contact on the outstretched arm. The man was immediately off balance and his momentum, combined with the sudden yank, carried him forward. Kyle squatted and pulled the guy onto his back, grabbed a leg, stood quickly as if he was lifting a sack of feed from a pickup truck, and hurled the attacker over the railing, releasing the hold as he went. The man was so surprised that he didn’t start to scream until he was halfway through the fall onto the gigantic stones waiting below.
Swanson didn’t watch him go. His mind was already busy with the tactical situation. That one was gone, but another one had cleared the top step and was moving into the fight. This one was more of a normal-sized human, about Kyle’s own size, and he appeared more agile. Kyle wasted no time letting him think about what was happening, but swung around in a spinning side kick that planted his boot heel hard and deep into the liver, just below the rib cage, and returned to his original stance.
The attacker was backed up a couple of steps by the force of the blow, as the nerve package connected to the liver shivered beneath the power, but he showed no other immediate response. Swanson gave him the necessary room, knowing that the human body needs a few seconds to react to the agony of a full liver strike. Sure enough, the man suddenly winced in pain, his mouth fell open in a sickening grunt as he lost all of his air, then his legs went out, and he doubled over. Kyle finished flopping the guy to the deck, climbed aboard and put a rear naked choke on him, locking legs around the stomach in a figure-four hold. Squeezing with the vice of his legs kept the lungs from expanding while the choke hold cut off the airways. Then it was just a matter of holding on, like riding a wild horse, for the approximate thirty seconds needed until the thrashing thug was dead.
Anneli was crouched against the wall, her hair hanging over her face, and gripping her knees to her chest. She was sobbing, and her cheeks were wet with tears from wide and fearful eyes.
Swanson knelt before her and spoke softly. “Anneli, we have to go right now. You have to get on your feet and come with me. Now.”
She mumbled something that sounded like, “Who are you?”
“We have to go, Anneli. I am going to take you someplace safe, but we have to get moving. People will be coming up here. I’m going to touch you, so don’t be frightened.” He rested his palm on her arm to establish a gentle physical contact. She did not shy away. Already from below came the sounds of people yelling. The falling man had created a surprise among the tourists.
She stared at the nearby dead body, then looked in horror at Kyle and said quietly, “You’re a monster!”
“Perhaps. But I’m your monster, Anneli. Now get on your feet and stay with me. Don’t bother looking at that guy. We’re going down the stairs. Concentrate on only that. Follow me down the stairs.” Kyle lifted her to her feet and she hugged her arms across her chest, but took a step forward. “Good. That’s good. Let’s go.”
He stayed in front of her, keeping his ears open for her trailing steps, while his eyes ranged over the surroundings. The fallen body had attracted the guards and a small circle of workers and tourists. A few were craning their necks back to look up at the gallery. Guards would start coming up the stairs soon but, for the moment, they were occupied with the grisly remains on the ground. Kyle and Anneli picked up their pace and managed to reach the bottom before encountering anyone else.
He took her hand and stood close. “We are just a couple of tourists now. We walk slowly to the parking area. I’m going to put my arm around your shoulders like I am comforting you. You keep your head down. Let’s move.”
The black motorcycle was waiting on its kickstand and, without another word, he got on, then she boarded behind him and grabbed his waist tightly. She leaned her head against his back as the engine throbbed to life, and Swanson eased the BMW away from the parking ramp, accelerated into the street, turned a couple of corners and was headed south.
They stopped at his encampment from the night before just long enough to gather the gear. “Where can we go, Simon?” she asked while struggling into the weatherized protective clothing. “That’s not your real name, is it?”