The Zenda Vendetta (TimeWars 4)

Forrester stared at him fixedly. “No, Major. It’s your play. You’re in command.”

“Right. Then we split up. That way, if it’s a trap, they won’t get both of us. One of us homes in on the remote and clocks in blind. The other goes in from outside, the hard way.”

“You sure that’s the hard way?”

“You have any preference?” Lucas said.

Forrester’s lips were tight. “It’s my son we’re up against,” he said grimly. “If there are any chances to be taken, I’m the one to take them. I’ll clock in blind. What the hell, I’m technically A.W.O.L. anyway. If I survive, I’ll probably be facing a court martial when I get back. No point to risking my second-in-command, as well.”

“Moses-”

“What?”

Lucas took Forrester by the upper arms in a strong grip. “Friend to friend,” he said. “Don’t allow yourself to feel guilty. That’s what she wants.”

“I know,” said Forrester.

“You hesitated once and a man died,” said Lucas.

“Damn you.”

“Drakov made his own choices,” Lucas said. “Would Vanna have approved of them?”

“Back off, Major,” Forrester said, tensely. “I know what I have to do.”

“I wouldn’t have thought you to be the sentimental type,” said Lucas harshly, “but you’ve shown me a side of you I hadn’t seen before. You knew what you had to do when S amp; R found you and you didn’t do it. If your little playmate had been given an abortion, none of us might be in this mess.”

Forrester grabbed Lucas by the shirt front with one hand and drew back his fist. He hesitated.

“See what I mean?” said Lucas. “Go on, Moses. Hit me. Think it’ll help?”

Forrester let him go and turned away, fighting to get himself under control. Finally, with a note of forced calm in his voice, he said, “I know what you’re trying to do, Priest. I can even appreciate it. Just the same, when we get back from this, I’m going to take you apart.”

“Just hold onto that thought,” said Lucas.

Forrester turned to face him, his face expressionless. “Count on it, Major.”

10

“I have never seen anything like it,” Hentzau told Bersonin. “I tell you, Karl, he was beaten senseless!”

The lanky mercenary gave Hentzau a highly dubious look. “And you think the countess did it?”

“She did it, for a fact,” said Hentzau. “Go and see for yourself if you do not believe me. Look at her hands. Her knuckles are cut from knocking out his teeth. Evidently, Michael had the temerity to strike her. She took her pound of flesh, I can tell you. The coach is spattered with his blood.”

“Really, Rupert,” said Bersonin, smiling as if his leg was being pulled, “you expect me to believe that a mere woman-”

“A mere woman who can handle a sabre better than many men I’ve met,” said Hentzau. “I tell you, she’s an animal! God, she’s absolutely magnificent!”

“You must be mad.”

“Mad, am I? Well, we shall

see who’s mad. We shall see who calls the tune from now on, Michael or Sophia. You wouldn’t care to place a little wager?”

“I think-”

He was interrupted by Falcon entering the hall. She had changed from her evening gown to a riding costume that lacked only the jacket. She wore a white lace shirt and waistcoat of black leather, tight black breeches and high black boots. She was pulling on her gloves as she came in. Her ash-blonde hair was pulled back, and she had removed all of her makeup.