Black Rose

CHAPTER 62

Nick waited at the head of the stairs by the kitchen door. Ronnie and Selena were on the steps behind him.

"Ready?"

He pushed the door open. It moved a few inches and lodged against something soft and heavy. Nick looked through the opening and saw part of a brightly lit kitchen counter. A rack of metal pots hung over it. The shooting had died out. He pushed harder until the door was open enough to slip through. The body of a large man in a white apron and shirt had been blocking the door. His shirt was red with blood. A large knife lay near his hand. Vegetables were scattered over the floor.

"They shot the cook," Selena said. "Why do that?"

"He's a witness," Nick said. "Whoever it is, they're not going to leave anyone alive in this building."

"They must be after Gutenberg, just like we are," Ronnie said.

"Yeah. You thinking what I'm thinking?"

"Russians?" Ronnie said.

"Probably Spetsnaz. Vysotsky's people."

"How many you think?"

"Not too many. Maybe eight or ten. They wouldn't need more than that."

Nick led them over to where the kitchen doors stood open to the rest of the Château.

"Too bad Korov isn't here," Ronnie said. "We might get by without shooting it out."

"You want to try and convince them we're on their side?" Nick said.

"Nah. Just sayin'."

Nick turned to Selena.

"You see movement, don't hesitate. Shoot it."

"What if it's someone like the cook? Not one of the Russians or Gutenberg's men?"

"Hear that?" Nick asked.

"Hear what? It's quiet."

"Exactly. The shooting's over. They've killed everyone they came across. You see someone, they're an enemy. Take them down."

She nodded.

"They don't know we're here. If I were them, I'd be headed this way to check out those vaults. I don't want to get stuck in this kitchen. We'll take it to them."

The doors from the kitchen opened onto a wide hall and staging area with tables where dishes could be set before being taken to the dining room. To the left of the staging area, stairs led up to the second level. To the right, the space was taken up by storage closets. Straight ahead, the passage continued toward the rest of the ground floor. Another body lay facedown beyond the tables. He was dressed in a suit. The stock of an assault rifle stuck out from under his body. His blood made a wide red pool on the floor.

One of Gutenberg's guards, Nick thought.

They moved past the body and took up positions on either side of the opening where the hall moved on into the rest of the building. Voices sounded ahead, coming closer. They were speaking Russian. Nick held up three fingers and mouthed on three.

One. Two. Three.

On three, they leaned around the doorjamb and opened fire.

The first thing Selena saw was three men in gray battle dress and red berets. They carried short barreled assault rifles that looked ugly and efficient. The bullets knocked them down before they had a chance to raise the rifles. Out of sight in an adjoining passage, Selena heard someone start shouting in Russian.

Ronnie took a grenade from his belt, pulled the pin and hurled it down the passage. They ducked back. The grenade detonated and Nick ran forward into the hall. Without thinking, Selena followed. Someone looked around a corner and fired. The rounds whistled by as Nick shot him. She sensed Ronnie pounding along the hall behind her. She felt invincible, strong, adrenaline punching through her veins.

They passed the spot where the grenade had gone off. The walls and floor and ceiling were spattered with blood. Two bodies lay on the floor, blown apart by the grenade. At least she thought it was two. It was hard to tell.

Behind the wall, Gutenberg watched them go by. He recognized Carter.

Those are the people who have been causing so much trouble, he thought. Well, they won't be doing it for much longer.

The dining room had a long, polished mahogany table with a gleaming crystal chandelier hanging over it. Vysotsky's men opened fire as Selena started into the room. Bullets ripped into a half dozen oil paintings hung on the wall behind her. A round slammed into her vest and knocked her back into the hall and onto the floor. She gasped for air.

Ronnie and Nick fired into the room. The chandelier exploded into glittering fragments. The noise of the guns was deafening. A door opened on the opposite side of the hall. She rolled to her side and fired at the opening. Someone screamed and fell back into the room.

Then it was over.

The hallway stank of burnt powder and hot metal. The coppery scent of fresh blood seeped into the air. Nick came over to her.

"Give me a hand," she said.

He helped her to her feet. "You're okay?"

"It just knocked the wind out of me. I'm fine."

"I make it nine dead Russians," Ronnie said.

"That figures. Eight enlisted and one officer," Nick said.

"We still haven't found Gutenberg."

"He's probably hiding."

Somewhere a door closed.

"You hear that?" Ronnie said. "It sounded like it came from the kitchen."

They ran back the way they had come and into the kitchen. The body of the cook still lay on the floor. The door to the vault was closed.

"Didn't we leave that open?" Selena asked.

Nick nodded. "Somehow Gutenberg must've gotten past us and gone down into the vault."

"Bad move," Ronnie said. "He's trapped."

"Yeah. Maybe. Or maybe not. Why hide where he can't get away?"

"There could be another way out," Selena said. "Something we didn't see when we were down there."

"Only one way to find out," Nick said. "Let's go see."

In the vault beneath the kitchen, Gutenberg and Halifax stood in front of a tall wine rack.

"Help me empty this," Gutenberg said.

He began pulling bottles off the rack, two and three at a time. They shattered on the stone floor, splashing wine onto his dove gray slacks.

Halifax said, "My dear man, this is hardly the time for a glass of wine."

"Don't be an idiot, Albert. There's an old tunnel behind this that will take us outside the walls. This isn't the first time the château has been under siege. Now, give me a hand."

The two men began throwing bottles onto the floor. The wine spread in a growing pool around their feet. Soon the heavy wine rack was light enough to move. They pulled it away from the wall, revealing a dark, wooden door.

A rusted, iron ring hung from the middle of the door. Gutenberg took hold of the ring and pulled. With difficulty, it began to come open.