TW04 The Zenda Vendetta NEW (26 page)

“I seek neither your understanding nor your acceptance,” Drakov said with a hard edge to his voice.

“I seek only justice.”

“This isn’t justice, Drakov.” Andre said. “I don’t think you realize just what’s at stake here. Falcon’s using you. This is more than a temporal disruption. You’ve endangered the timestream itself. It doesn’t have to be this way. If you’d only listen, if you’d only let us help you—”

“Help me?” Drakov said, speaking to her without taking his eyes off Forester even for an instant.

“How would you propose to ‘help’ me? A reeducation procedure, is that what you had in mind? Is that what you mean? Help me to ‘adjust’? No, I don’t think so, Corporal Cross. I have been to your 27th century and I have seen its perversity firsthand. I will not have my mind, conditioned so that I would respond like some happy, brainwashed citizen of your great technocracy.”

“No one’s talking about brainwashing,” Andre said. “I’ve gone through it. It’s more like therapy than anything else. True, there are cases where personalities are altered, but that’s for psychotics. I don’t think you’re psychotic, Drakov. I think you’re just hurt. Reeducation can help you deal with that. It can make you understand why things happened the way they did.”

“I find the very idea obscene,” he said.

“And terrorism is not obscene?” said Forrester.

“Labeling me a terrorist makes it convenient for you to moralize, but otherwise, it’s meaningless. One man’s terrorist is another’s freedom fighter. History, I have learned, is written by the winners, not the losers. If the losers ever have anything to say, they merely make excuses for having lost, in order to cast themselves in the most favorable light. Unfortunately, what history does not say is that if there is obscenity in violence—and I am not denying that there is—there Is far greater obscenity in the fact that it is the only thing most people understand. Particularly
your
people. Mensinger tried using reason, did he not? Where did it get him? All I do is employ the only means left available to me in making war on war. If what I do becomes historically significant, then history will judge me. You, however, are in very poor position to pronounce judgment on my morality. Violence is your stock in trade.”

“
Moses!”
Lucas’s voice came over Forrester’s comset. “
Damn it, Moses, I’m in a lot of trouble!

Moses!”

Forrester could not respond. Drakov was watching him alertly and he could not risk moving to activate his throat mike.

“
Moses, I don’t know if you’re receiving me, but if you’re not, I guess it doesn’t matter.

They’ve got the whole interior of the old part of the castle rigged with defense systems. They have
to be centrally controlled somehow, probably through some kind of remote unit. If you can’t get
them turned off, I’ll never make it to the keep. Can you hear me. Moses? Colonel?”

“
Stay put, Lucas,”

“
Finn? Where are you?”

“
In the castle, with Hentzau.”

“
With
Hentzau?
What the hell—”

“What are you doing, play-actor?” Hentzau called out softly, seeing Finn hesitate in the corridor behind him. “Come on!”

“I’m coming,” Finn said. “Just catching my breath.” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “
I can’t talk
now, Lucas. The castle is about to be attacked. Stay put. I’ll try to get to those defense systems.”

“Come on, Rassendyll, damn you!” Hanna said. “Stop dawdling!” This is it, thought Forrester. All the elements had come together and the key moment in temporal continuity had finally arrived. Only where was Falcon?

“In order to deactivate those systems,” Drakov said, “Sergeant Delaney will first have to deactivate me.”

He held up the control unit and Forrester abruptly realized that he had relieved Andre of her comset and was wearing it himself. He had heard every word.

As Hentzau stepped out into the main hall, De Gautet left his position of concealment behind an arras and raised his pistol, aiming it at Hanzau’s back.

“Stand where you are, Rupert!”

Hentzau stopped, then casually turned around. “Well, well,” he said, with unconcern. “What have we here? Dissension in the ranks?”

“Some men do not change sides as easily as you,” said De Gautet. “We feel that our interests would be better served allied with the duke, rather than with your ambitious countess.”

“I see,” said Hentzau. “Well then, if you’re going to shoot me, best be quick about it. There’s a man creeping up behind you.”

De Gautet laughed. “Really, Rupert, if you think—”

Finn seized him. He tried to grab the gun, but it went off, the shot echoing through the hall. As they struggled, Hentzau drew his sabre.

“Run, play-actor! Take care of the king! Leave this cowardly dog to me!” Finn shoved De Gautet away from him and the man fell sprawling. Fully expecting Hentzau to run him through, he began to spring across the hall knowing that the shot would have alerted all the others. When he glanced over his shoulder, he saw to his amazement that Hentzau had put his foot down upon the pistol and was waiting for De Gautet to get up and draw his sabre.

“What are you doing?” he shouted. “Kill him, for God’s sake!”

“It won’t take but a moment,” Hentzau called over his shoulder as the two men engaged.

Finn pulled out his own pistol aiming at De Gautet, but Hentzau kept moving into his line of fire. “Get out of the damn way!” he yelled.

“You’re wasting time, play-actor!” Hentzatt shouted. Cursing the arrogant young fool, Fern turned and ran headlong down the stairs, crashing into Krafstein, who was running up the stairs with his pistol drawn. They both went down and Finn lost his revolver as they rolled to the bottom of the stairs, onto the first landing. Krafstein flailed at him, but Firm brought his knee up sharply into the man’s groin, then rammed the heel of his palm up into his nose, breaking it and driving the bone splinters deep into the brain. Krafstein went limp and Finn shoved him away, reaching for his laser. He felt a sharp blow just below his left shoulder, beneath the collarbone. He raised his weapon and fired, hitting Detchard squarely in the face. Detchard screamed once, briefly, then fell dead.

Finn glanced down to see the hilt of a dagger protruding from his chest. He felt no pain. Not yet. He wondered if he would ever have the time.

“Stay put, my ass,” said Lucas. “I’m getting the hell out of here.” He ran down the stairway to the next level, abandoning all caution. It had all come apart. He couldn’t raise Forrester and the attempt to rescue Rudolf was under way. For ail he knew, both Forrester and Andre were already dead. They had all run out of time. If he could only get to a window in the outside wall, he could dive out into the moat. Then, as the castle was assaulted, he could try to take advantage of the confusion to get in the only way that was left open to him: the drawbridge to the portcullis. It would be better to face a hail of bullets from Michael’s mercenaries than to take his chalices with laser beams and needle dart barrages and God only knew what else. He turned a corner and an auto-pulser opened up on him.

He felt a searing pain in his thigh as the blast of plasma grazed him and a wave of incredible heat passed close to his head. He just barely managed to duck back around the corner in time. The stone walls were covered with blue flame. His clothing was smoldering and he smelled cooked meat. His own.

The skin on the entire right side of his face felt as though it had ban ripped away. It was roasted, cracked and blistered from the temple all the way down to his jaw. He could not see out of his right eye. He reached up gingerly and felt liquid seeping down his cheek.

The pain was unbearable. He leaned back against the stone wall for support, gasping, slamming his left hand hard into the wall in a desperate effort to focus on some other part of his body, to keep the pain from blotting out everything else. He reached into his pouch and pulled out a warp grenade. They were issued only to the adjustment teams, only one per team, and they were to be used only as a last, desperate resort in case of an emergency. This qualified. Perhaps the review board wouldn’t think-so, assuming that he made it back, but at the moment, he could not careless. All bets were off.

Finn stepped over the body of Detchard and aimed his laser at the lock on the cell door. The knife still protruded from his chat. He did not dare to pull it out. It could be the only thing holding an artery together. He half expected to drop dead at any moment. He reeled and almost fell. He couldn’t seem to make his fingers respond.

Damn, he thought,
now
it finally gets to me! With a knife stuck in his chest, the reserves of energy he had been functioning on finally gave out and he was on the verge of collapse. His limbs simply were not responding: He felt lice a marionette with its strings cut. He was beginning to disassociate. He had to buy himself more time.

Using all his concentration, he removed the small ring from his left hand. It felt as though he were drunk, unable to coordinate his movements. He managed to work the tiny catch and the needle snapped out. With everything swimming all around him, he pressed the needle up against his neck and injected the tiny dose of nitro directly into his carotid artery. The effect wasp instantaneous. It felt as though he had injected himself with white phosphorous as the nitro slammed into his brain.

“
Aaargh!”
He jerked bolt upright, ready to tear the door down with his bare hands, ready to attack the stone walls with his teeth. He steadied his right hand with his left, trying to keep it from shaking.

“
Finn! Finn, where are you?”

“
Outside the king’s cell with the top of my fucking head coming off!”

“
What?Oh, Christ, are you on nitro?”

“
Hell, yes!”

He fired his laser at the lock.

“
You’d better move it, then. I’m about to make a lot of noise up here.”

“
What’s going on? You sound terrible. Are you all right?”

“
No, but I might live. Hold your ears. I’m setting off a warp grenade.”

“
Are you crazy?”

“
Probably. Good luck. I’m out.”

Finn burned through the lock and kicked the door open.

Rudolf slowly raised himself from his cot “Cousin Rudolf! I heard shots! Are....” his voice trailed off when he saw the knife. His eyes grew wider still. “Good Lord, man, you’ve been stabbed!”

“Never mind me,” said Finn, practically lifting him off the cot. “Can you walk?”

“You say that to me with a knife stuck in your chest? It is
I
who should be helping
you!
”

“Well, let’s see if we can help act other stay alive long enough for Sapt and von Tarlenheim to reach us. We’re not out of danger yet.”

De Gautet’s sabre scraped against Hentzau’s blade, as he bore down on it and De Gautet’s eyes were wide with panic. He knew he was no match for Hentzau. Healso knew that the shot would, bring the others and he was hoping desperately that they would come before Hentzau finished him off. He cave way to Hentzau’s pressure and leapt backward, forcing Hama off balance momentarily, but Hentzau’s recovery was swift. However, it bought De Gautet enough time to unsheath his dagger and hurl it at him.

Hentzau dodged it and it missed him by inches, striking the wall behind him and falling to the floor.

“Ah ha!” cried Hentzau. “Close, but not close enough! I’m afraid I have no more time for you, my friend. It’s too bad you didn’t throw in with me.”

“No, Rupert, please—”

Hentzau took his own dagger and threw it with a quick and easy motion. It plunged into De Gautet’s chest. De Garnet’s hands came up to clutch at it. He staggered one step forward and collapsed onto the floor. As Hentzau turned to run to the drawbridge and release it, a pistol shot cracked sharply and he felt the bullet pass close by his ear.

“
Stop,
Hentzau, or the next one shall not miss!”

Hentzau slowly turned around to see Michael standing with Lauengram on the stairs leading to the second floor, his pistol leveled at him. Michael’s face was livid with fury. He lisped slightly from missing the teeth that Falcon had knocked out.

“This does not seem to be my night,” said Henan, to himself. He thought that he could probably make a dive and manage to release the drawbridge, but he would certainly be killed in the attempt, and that was not his plan at all. His one chance was to stall and hope for rescue by the play-actor.

“Don’t be too eager to finish me off, Your Lordship,” he said to Michael. “Yon have enemies without. You’ll need help. Perhaps we can come to terms.”

“I do not deal with traitors!” Michael said. “I should have had you and Sophia killed when I first suspected your affair! Where is that treacherous slut?”

“Right here,” said Falcon, standing in the archway that led to the old section of the castle. She fired her laser and the beam struck Michael in the chest. His gun went off, but the shot was wild and he was already dead when he fell headlong down the stairs. Her second shot dropped a stunned and disbelieving Lauengram, who tumbled down the stairs to land in a heap on top of Michael.

Hentzau, stared at her in astonishment, the drawbridge momentarily forgotten. “The devil!” as said, awestruck. “How did you do that? What manner of weapon ...” he stopped in mid-phrase as she turned toward him and aimed the laser at his chest.

Lucas held the warp grenade in his right hand, hesitating. He had never actually used one before. He was fully briefed on them and had trained with simulators, but the thought of setting off a pinpoint nuclear explosion gave him pause. Still, he had no other choice. He was badly hurt, he had only one eye left and the plasma burns were throbbing, causing him terrific pain. He wasn’t sure just how much radiation he would catch. Supposedly, it would not be lethal. Supposedly.

The grenade, a miniature bomb really, was preset. All it took was for him to arm it, then either place it manually or throw it just like a hand grenade. It was the latest in 27th century weapons technology, a diabolical combination of nuclear device and time machine. It scared the hell out of him.