Polar Quest

61

The phone in the guardhouse rang and Kilkenny looked at Tao. It rang several more times, demanding an answer, then it stopped.

‘Well, they know I’m here,’ Kilkenny said, ‘and since nobody answered, they’ve probably figured out something has happened to their men. If you were in their position, what would your next move be?’

Tao thought for a moment. ‘They only have two options: sit tight or send somebody out. I’m guessing they’ll stay put and wait for us to come to them.’

‘And if we just leave, Walker makes a few calls and sends the wolves after us. I assume Duroc and the last guard are armed, but Lafitte doesn’t seem the type to carry. What about Walker?’

‘He’s an Operations man. Treat him as armed.’

‘Inside the château, they have the home field advantage. We’ve got to neutralize that. Grab that bedsheet while I look for matches and some bottles.’

Tao hastily folded up a sheet. ‘Molotov cocktails?’

‘Something like that. A billionaire like Lafitte really hates it when the power goes out and his sorbet melts, so he has to have an electrical backup. We have a generator out at the farm, but for a place this size, there’s probably a small building full of generators. We take that out, the château is back to using candles.’

They killed the lights in the guardhouse and, once their night vision had returned, Tao followed Kilkenny outside. Their footsteps were carefully placed and silent. Tao glanced down at the body of another of the men who’d raped her and saw a wide bloody hole in his forehead.

Karma, she thought, with a hint of a smile.

Kilkenny moved up to the nearest building, his pistol held in front of him in a modified Weaver grip, the barrel tracking in line with his eyes. Looking through a window, he saw several very expensive automobiles. He handsignaled Tao that he was proceeding to the next building. Pivoting around the corner of the garage, Kilkenny scanned the area for threats and found none.

Adrenaline coursed through Kilkenny’s bloodstream, punching his normally low heart rate up. He breathed in through his nose, feeling the air push down to his center, then released his breath slowly through his mouth. As he’d been taught by his karate master, he used the cycle of his breathing to focus his thoughts and harness his energy.

Kilkenny moved into position and scanned the area ahead for targets. No threats, move on. He methodically cleared the gardeners’s tool and equipment building, a storage building, and a potting shed. No sign of threats and no sign of generators.

He swept the alleyway between the potting shed and the last building. It was smaller than the garage, but similar in that it had carriage doors facing the gravel roadway. He looked through a window and, in the dim glow of lights on a bank of electrical service panels, he saw six large metal boxes on the floor in three rows of two. Kilkenny signaled to Tao that he found what they were looking for.

Just beyond the building, the roadway ended in a cul-de-sac at the edge of which Kilkenny saw a small building about the size of an outhouse. As he closed on the small structure, details became clearer. A coiled hose hung from a hook on the building’s side and two thick rubber hoses emerged from the front, just under the soffit — a fuel pump.

The filling station was set in the middle of a rectangular concrete slab. Kilkenny studied the surface of the slab until he found two metal circles — one marked diesel, the other petrol. He returned to where Tao waited near the generator building. He tested the side door, found it locked, and kicked it in.

‘I don’t think there’s anybody out here, but stay sharp,’ Kilkenny said, flipping on the Glock’s safety and sliding the weapon into his belt. ‘Rip that sheet into two long strips and a couple short ones while I look for some tools.’

A tool bench ran along the length of a wall inside the generator building. Kilkenny quickly found a pair of tin snips and a large wrench used to unscrew the lids on the underground fuel tanks.

One by one, Kilkenny opened the covers on the generators to expose the engines, then cut the fuel lines with the tin snips. Gas leaked from the severed lines onto the floor.

‘Done,’ Tao announced, after she had finished tearing the sheets.

‘Good, follow me.’

Kilkenny led Tao outside to the filling station, where he opened the lid on the first tank.

‘Tie a couple of tight knots on the ends of the long strips and lower them into the tank.’

‘A fuse?’

‘Yep. We’re making two regular Molotov cocktails and two jumbos.’

Kilkenny unscrewed the second lid, then filled the wine bottles with gasoline.

‘I’m set with the tanks,’ Tao said.

‘Stand back.’

Kilkenny pulled the fuel hose out from the station, aimed the nozzle at the long strips of cloth, and doused them with gasoline. The gray concrete turned dark and wet. When the strips were soaked, he dropped the hose and picked up the wine bottles.

‘Light ‘em up.’

Tao struck a match and ignited the rags dangling wet from the necks of the bottles. Yellow-orange flames licked at the edges of the sheet, then spread quickly upward engulfing the cloth. Kilkenny ran toward the open door and tossed the bottles inside. The first landed in the middle of the generators, shattering against the concrete floor. Kilkenny threw the second against the wall, just beneath the electrical service panels. Flames raced up the wall, consuming the spray of fuel.

One by one, the puddles of fuel inside the generators began to ignite. The fire was spreading quickly. Kilkenny jogged over to Tao.

‘Light it and run,’ Kilkenny said.

Tao struck another match, watched the flame curl and expand, then tossed it into the puddle of fuel. The long strips of cloth gave direction to the flame, channeling it down into the fuel tanks. Both tanks were more than half full and the upper section of each was thick with explosive vapor.

Kilkenny and Tao felt the blast behind them as a fireball erupted from the pump, destroying the filling station. Flames illuminated the generator building like a jack-o-lantern.