Escape Out of Darkness (Maggie Bennett 1)

“Is that all?” she inquired faintly, pushing away from the wine rack and stepping into the light.

He just looked at her. “Was it awful?”

She shook her head. “No, Mack. I just closed my eyes and thought of you.”

“Did you?” He moved then, into the shadow of the doorway, and kissed her full on the mouth, a brief, thorough kiss that put the last of her faltering courage back into her. “Come on, Maggie May. Let’s get out of here before his henchmen return.”

The corridors were still deserted as they made their way stealthily up the flights of stairs. They made it as far as the top level, a few short yards from freedom, when their one chance of escape was ripped from their hands.

“Leaving so soon?” Jeffrey Van Zandt inquired sweetly. “I hadn’t realized you’d finished your mission.”

Maggie just stared at him. She could feel Mack’s tension, knew that any moment he might lunge for Van Zandt, and she knew she had to forestall that move. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Taking care of loose ends,” he said. “I’m a thorough man. Most of us are, in this business. Is Mersot dead?”

“No.”

Van Zandt shrugged. “No matter. He will be within the hour. This place is set to blow at five o’clock, and it would take more demolition experts than Switzerland has ever seen to stop it.”

“I’m hurt,” Maggie mocked. “Didn’t you trust us to be able to kill him?”

“Actually, I rather thought you’d manage it,” he admitted. “The bomb was to take care of any extraneous details.”

“Such as?”

Van Zandt smiled. “Such as proof of my involvement in Mersot’s empire. Such as any leftover guards who might have reason to suspect me. Such as the two of you. You’ve been more than helpful, you realize. Everyone’s been so busy looking for the two of you, trying to figure out how you were involved in the drug deal, that no one had any time to think about me. I’ve created the most wonderful paper trail, which is going to survive this, and with any luck I’ll come out smelling like a rose. I’ll think of you both, often,” he added with genuine regret.

“I’m touched,” she said.

“I knew you would be. Let’s go and find Mersot, shall we?” he said. His own gun was smaller than Mersot’s machine gun, but quite impressive nonetheless. And theirs were somewhere back by the French doors, hopelessly out of reach.

“Do we have a choice?” Mack’s calm matched Van Zandt’s.

“You know you don’t. Where’s Mersot? Not with his little rats, I hope?” Van Zandt inquired with a shudder of distaste, and Maggie felt her first glimmering of hope.

“ ’Fraid so,” Mack said. “Not to mention a machine gun.”

Van Zandt dismissed the weapon with an airy wave of his own. “It doesn’t work.”

“Says who?” she demanded hotly.

Van Zandt smiled. “I say. How many times must I tell you, Maggie? I’m a thorough man. I saw to his little pet weapon the last time I was out here.”

Her rage and frustration threatened to choke her, and if she’d been alone with Van Zandt, she would have gone for him, ignoring the weapon that rested so casually between them.

“If you’d bothered to tell us, Van Zandt, we might have been more successful in taking him out,” Mack said, his voice holding nothing more noticeable than faint disapproval.

“Didn’t I happen to mention it?” Van Zandt murmured. “How careless of me. Lead the way, Pulaski. That way you can have the pleasure of seeing the shock on Mersot’s face.”

Her first glance of the room at the top floor of the chalet made her appreciate Van Zandt’s distaste. Mersot had his back to the door, and he was bent over a huge expanse of something that resembled an elaborate miniature train set. Until one looked more closely, and saw all the rodents scurrying back and forth in their little glassed-in village.

The late afternoon shadows were lengthening outside the expanse of windows that looked out over the valley. They must have made a noise, for Mersot looked up, into the wall of windows, and saw their reflection.

She couldn’t help but flinch when the machine gun instantly met their eyes. The only sound in the room, above the scurry of a thousand rodent feet, was the useless click of the firing mechanism.

Mersot looked down at his weapon, shrugged, and dropped it, turning to face them with his charming smile still intact. “We keep underestimating each other, Jeffrey,” he said. “It is a great shame that we could not trust each other, work together. There would have been no stopping us.”

“Alas, Hercule, I am a greedy man,” Van Zandt murmured. “No matter how large my share is, I always seem to need more.”