Leforte stared at it and frowned. The cart lurched forward and the soldier fell, being left behind as the procession continued. Puzzled, Leforte turned around to stare at the fallen soldier and then another soldier fell. This time, he heard the shot. Almost immediately, another shot rang out and the driver pitched forward off the tumbrel to fall in a lifeless heap upon the street. Another shot, another soldier fell.
The mob went wild.
“What the hell?” said Finn. “Someone’s picking off the soldiers!”
“Did you tell them to-”
“I didn’t tell them to shoot anybody!” Finn said. “They’re not even supposed to be here! I sent word to them to wait in the square until Leforte arrived!”
All around them, the crowd was surging in all directions as people ran in panic from the shooting, shoving each other and trampling those unfortunate enough to have lost their balance in the melee and to have fallen. Only one soldier remained from the small squad assigned to escort the Marquis de Leforte, and he had no desire to join the others. He dropped his musket and ran for the shelter of a building across the street. The horses, wearing blinders and by now long used to such cacophony, remained standing where they were, but they sensed the fear around them and pawed at the cobblestones skittishly. Leforte stood in the tumbrel helplessly, his hands bound, not knowing what to do.
“Up there,” said Lucas, pointing to a window on the second floor of a house across the street.
“Let’s go,” said Finn.
They pushed their way through the mob and rushed toward the house from which the shots were coming. By now, however, they were not the only ones who had marked the room on the second floor and they made it through the doorway of the house just ahead of several other men, one of whom was brandishing a pistol. The door to the room they sought was open and they all burst into the room to find not a gunman, but a small boy of about twelve or thirteen years with jet black hair and piercing dark eyes. He sat slumped against the wall beside a man’s corpse and as they entered, he began to cry.
“My father!” he wailed. “That man killed my father!”
At the same moment, a cry went up outside and they heard the sound of horses hooves upon the cobblestones. One of the men who had rushed into the room behind them ran over to the window, with Lucas just behind him.
“It’s Leforte!” the man shouted. “Leforte is escaping!”
As Lucas reached the window, he saw the tumbrel being driven down the street at a furious pace, the horses being whipped up by the same old woman who had only moments ago tried to climb up into the cart.
“Stop him!” cried the man, leaning far out of the window. “Stop him, he’s getting away!”
The boy kept wailing about his dead father. The men who had rushed up into the room behind Finn and Lucas ran back outside, after the one armed with the pistol let off a wild shot in the direction of the escaping tumbrel. Finn and Lucas remained behind with the boy.
Lucas kneeled down beside him, putting one hand on the youngster’s head. “What happened, son?” he said.
“My father,” sobbed the boy, “that man came in here and killed my father!”
“ What man?”
“He killed my father!” the boy wailed. “He killed him! Then he hit me and said that if I made any noise, he would kill me, too!”
Finn bent down over the father’s body. “Shot through the head,” he said. “From behind.” He stood up. “Look here,” he said, as Lucas tried to comfort the boy. He pointed to a pair of pistols lying on the floor beneath a table by the windowsill. “He had several pistols, already loaded. That’s how he was able to shoot so quickly. There’s only two here, I figure he had at least two or three others. He heard us coming up the stairs, grabbed up the pistols that he could carry, jumped through the window down into the street, and lost himself in the crowd while his confederate made off with the tumbrel.”
“You don’t think that one of-”
Finn held a finger to his lips. “Not in front of the boy,” he said. Finn had noticed that the boy had stopped his wailing and was only sniffling now, watching them fearfully. “It’s all right, son,” said Finn. “Nobody’s going to harm you now.”
“Come on,” said Lucas, helping the boy up. “Where is your mother, do you know?”
“No,” the boy said, pulling away from him as Lucas tried to help him to his feet. “No, don’t touch me!”
“It’s all right, “ said Lucas, pulling him up by the arm as the boy struggled with him. “We won’t hurt you, I promise you. Don’t be afraid. There’s nothing-”
Something fell to the floor with a thump and Lucas glanced down to see a pistol lying on the floor.
“What…”
The boy jerked away and pulled another pistol from inside his tattered jacket, swinging at Lucas with it. Instinctively, Lucas blocked the blow, but the boy had twisted free from his grasp and he quickly made for the door. Finn leaped across the room and brought the boy down with a flying tackle.
“Merde!” screamed the boy. “Let me go, you big ox! Let me go or else I’ll kill you! Let me go, I said! “
He squirmed in Finn’s grasp like a little fish, kicking and clawing at Finn’s face in an effort to get at his eyes.
“I’ve got him,” Lucas said, grabbing the boy by the scruff of the neck and hauling him to his feet. “All right now, you little hellion, you’ve got some- HUHHH!”
He doubled over as the boy brought his knee up hard into his groin. The blow made Lucas release his hold upon the boy and he tried to run again, but Finn kicked his feet out from under him, sending him sprawling to the floor. Immediately, the boy was up again, but this time Finn brought him down with a right cross to the jaw and he fell to the floor again, unconscious.
“Little bastard,” Delaney said. “You all right, Lucas?”
Still doubled over and clutching at himself, Priest looked up and nodded, his eyes wide with pain as he fought to get his breath back.
“How do you like that little son of a bitch?” said Finn. “There was never anybody else in here, he did it all himself.”
“I hope you didn’t kill him,” Lucas wheezed.
“If I did, it’d serve him right,” Finn said. “Don’t worry, I didn’t hit him very hard. He should be coming around in a little while. We’d better get out of here, though. I think we’ll take this little sniper with us.”
He picked the boy up and threw him over his shoulder. “Come on,” he said. “Straighten up and let’s get out of here.
If anybody says anything, my ‘son’ here got knocked down in the crush outside. We’d better get word to the boys waiting in the square that the whole thing’s off and have them get back to the boat.”
“I’ll take care of that,” said Lucas, still feeling the effects of the knee to his essentials. “Where will you be?”
“At Fitzroy’s safehouse. I want to ask this kid a few questions. I’ve got a sneaking suspicion that I know who that ‘old women’ was.”
“You shouldn’t have brought him here,” Fitzroy said.
“Relax, Major,” Finn said. “He doesn’t even know where the hell he is. Besides, I was in a hurry and there wasn’t any time to make other arrangements.”
“I sent you to rescue the Marquis de Leforte, and not only did you let him get away, but you beat up a little boy. I’m very disappointed in you two.”
“If you’ll recall,” said Finn, “the whole idea was for Leforte to get away.”
“As for your disappointment in us, Fitzroy,” said Lucas, “you know what you can do with that. This wouldn’t have happened if you had provided proper mission support. If you had issued us the right equipment, we could have-”
“Impossible,” Fitzroy said.
“Look here, Major,” Finn said, drawing himself up to his full height and glowering at the Observer, “in case you’ve forgotten, this isn’t a standard adjustment anymore.”
“If you’re referring to Mongoose,” said Fitzroy, “I already gave you your orders concerning him. He’s to be left to the TIA team that will-”