by Robert Brown
The third lunged at him, jaws snapping. Heinrich backed off, jabbing at the animal to keep it at bay.
And then they were all over him. He swung and dodged desperately as all three tried to tear him apart. Occasionally he connected, but the dogs just shook off the blows and came at him again with renewed fury. In the background, above the barking and snarling, Arizona let out a shrill, sustained scream.
After a minute, one Doberman peeled off and leaped at Arizona. Heinrich had put the kid too high for the dog to reach, but the girl flinched and almost fell off.
“Shit,” he muttered and started backing up.
The dogs, sensing his retreat, moved after him, including the one that had been trying to get at Arizona.
Heinrich moved away from Arizona as fast as he could while still defending himself, but the dogs surrounded him. He ended up with his back against a large oak, swinging the stick in broad arcs to keep them away. It was only a matter of time before one bit him.
A low whistle made the dogs pause.
Heinrich looked around. Not far off stood Anders and the twins. A couple more men were with them, although they looked thin and out of shape, like Anders. The movie director gestured to one of them, who went over to Arizona’s tree and plucked her off it. The girl started to cry.
“Shall I tell my dogs to attack again or will you come quietly?” Anders asked with a smile.
“You win,” Heinrich grumbled.
Anders whistled again and the dogs loped over to him. He petted each one in turn and put them on leashes. The twins approached Heinrich, who hesitated, then dropped his stick. They grabbed him by each arm.
“Don’t hurt him,” Anders told them in Dutch. “We need him for the movie.”
They moved back the way they had come, Arizona sobbing all the way. “You promised you’d bring me to my Daddy! You promised!”
“I’m sorry, kid,” Heinrich sighed.
Anders made a call on his phone, speaking quickly in Dutch.
They came to the gravel road and found a 4x4 waiting for them. They all piled in except for the two men Heinrich hadn’t seen before, who led the dogs along by foot. Within a minute they had pulled well ahead of them and around the curve in the road. Heinrich realized they had put him by a door. One of the twins kept a firm grip on his arm.
As they slowed to go over a rough portion of the road with several potholes, Heinrich saw his chance.
With his free hand, he jabbed two fingers into the twin’s eyes. The guy cried out and let go of him. Heinrich opened the door and threw himself out.
He grunted as he hit the gravel and rolled, then got onto his feet in a flash and dove into the woods.
He had no idea how long he ran or in what direction; he just sprinted through the woods as fast as his feet could carry him.
After a few minutes, the sound of pursuit died away. He kept running.
At last he sank to the forest floor, panting and exhausted. He lay there, his mind a blank, his body a huge mass of weariness. Despite his situation, Heinrich couldn’t help but fall asleep. The sleeplessness and strain of the night before, the fight, the fear—it all conspired to pull him under.
He awoke with a start, looking all about him and seeing nothing but woods. The sun’s position told him he had slept for several hours. He was amazed the dogs hadn’t tracked him down. Then he remembered having crossed several small streams. In his panicked flight, he had retained enough sense to run down one for some time. That must have made them lose the scent.
Heinrich hauled himself to his feet. A ravenous hunger had replaced his fatigue. At least the heat of the day had dried his clothes, except for his shoes. Those were soaked and muddy, and they squished as he walked.
Looking around him, Heinrich had no idea which way to go, so he headed back the way he thought he had come. Spotting a low hill, he climbed it. At the top he clambered up the branches of the biggest tree so he could get a look at the surrounding countryside.
What he saw didn’t reassure him.
In one direction he saw the castle’s towers poking over the treetops, closer than he had expected. In all the other directions the forest spread to the horizon, except in the direction opposite the castle, where after about half a mile the forest opened into flat fields. He saw nothing there—no roads, no buildings, not even a tractor. At the edge of his vision, sun glimmered on water. A river? The sea? He had no way of knowing.
Heinrich sat there for several minutes, stumped. He thought the Netherlands was a compact country full of people, but he seemed to have landed in its most remote part.
What were Anders and the others doing right now? No doubt still hunting for him. Plus, whatever they had planned for Casey and Arizona would probably get pushed forward. Anders would be worried that Heinrich would get away, find some people in this quiet corner of the country, and call the cops. They might be clearing out of the castle right now.
Heinrich rubbed his tired eyes. He saw no other choice but to return to the castle and somehow save Arizona. If he wandered around the woods or those fields hoping to come across someone, no doubt he would eventually make contact with civilization, but by then it would probably be too late.
Noting the way back to the castle, he set out at a quick pace.
It wasn’t long before he found the gravel road and shied away from it. He heard the distant sound of an engine. After a moment, he heard the engine receding from the castle. Were they out looking for him or had they just made their escape? He hoped he wasn’t too late.
Trying to walk parallel to the road, Heinrich made his way back to the castle in about an hour. His hunger had not abated, and now a sharp thirst afflicted him. He hadn’t eaten or drank anything since dinner the night before.
Shrugging that off, he carefully approached the edge of the woods and studied the castle from behind a tree trunk.
The castle’s drawbridge lay open. A man stood at the doorway, obviously keeping watch. Four cars were parked to one side. He didn’t see the 4x4 he had ridden in or the van Arizona had mentioned.
How to get in? The drawbridge was obviously the only entrance and there was no way to cross it without that watchman spotting him.
Heinrich stood there, uncertain what to do. Then he was handed an opportunity. The man turned and walked into the gatehouse. Now was his chance—a slim chance, a crazy chance, but probably the only chance he’d get.
He sprinted for the drawbridge like he was doing the hundred-meter dash in the Olympics, praying that the guy wouldn’t step back out while he was exposed in plain view—and hoping that the lack of guns in the Netherlands meant that he wouldn’t get plugged as soon as Heinrich came upon him.
To his surprise, Heinrich reached the drawbridge without anyone raising the alarm. He gritted his teeth as his footfalls made loud, hollow thuds on the wooden drawbridge. Beyond the open portals in the front and back of the gatehouse, he could just barely see the watchman, half-concealed by the doorway, his hands in a position that showed what he was doing.
At the sound of Heinrich’s approach, the watchman turned and stared at him with stupid surprise for a moment. He fumbled with his pants, and then cried out.
At that point, Heinrich was on him. A straight punch to the face, with all the power of his speed behind it, knocked him off his feet.
It also made the stream of urine still coming out of him spray all over Heinrich.
“Augh! Fuck!”
The watchman landed on the ground, out cold. Heinrich gave him a couple of kicks to the head anyway.
Cursing at the filth all over his shirt and pants, Heinrich dragged the limp body into the gatehouse and pushed it into a corner where it couldn’t be seen from either doorway. A quick search of the man’s body revealed no weapon except for a nasty-looking hunting knife. Heinrich took it. He also took the guy’s cell phone.
He peeked out of the gatehouse. The castle remained quiet.
Ducking back out of sight, Heinrich turned on the guy’s phone and s
lumped when the prompt for the code came up. He tossed the phone into the moat.
The watchman didn’t have any keys on him, which suggested the entrance to the castle was unlocked.
Heinrich took a final look around to make sure he would remain unseen, then ran for the front door.
Opening it, he slipped inside.
CHAPTER TEN
Heinrich entered the castle’s front hall. Unlike when he had passed through it previously, now it was fully lit. Electric lights shone from the ceiling and daylight streamed through the stained glass windows. He wouldn’t be able to hide in the shadows this time.
Several large boxes sat by the front door. They hadn’t been there before. The boxes were black and had metal reinforcements at the corners. He’d seen similar boxes used for electronic equipment. So they were planning on leaving.
He paused, uncertain which way to go. Doors led ahead, to his right and to his left, while the stairs led to the upper floors. He knew only the portions of the castle through which he and Arizona had snuck. Nothing of use lay that way.
Gripping the knife, he chose the door on the left side of the entrance hall.
It led to a series of rooms, most of them empty and obviously unused. Heinrich was about to turn back the way he had come when he encountered an informal dining room. It wasn’t like the banquet hall he had seen the previous night. Instead it had a simple Formica table with several chairs around it. Placemats and a few crumbs showed that this room was actually used.
He opened a door opposite the one from which he entered and, to his delight, encountered a kitchen. Heinrich made a beeline for the fridge. Within a minute he was gulping down orange juice from the carton and biting huge chunks from a wheel of cheese.
After a few minutes, he was satiated and turned back to his mission. He briefly searched the kitchen for a knife better than the one he already had. He didn’t find any that fit the bill, but he did grab a meat cleaver. Two weapons were better than one.
This wing of the castle was obviously not going to be of any further use, so Heinrich moved back to the main hall. All was quiet. The guard he had pummeled into submission hadn’t come to yet. He would probably be out for a while, considering the kicks he’d received, but Heinrich knew he should hurry.
He listened carefully and thought he heard faint music coming from upstairs.
Creeping to the bottom of the grand staircase, he looked up. The music was clearer. It sounded bright and chipper, like kid’s music. After a minute, children’s voices replaced it. Was Arizona watching television?
He tiptoed up the stairs and found himself in a hallway. Red carpeting covered the floor, and on the walls hung antique tapestries and hunting trophies. Several doors lined the walls. All were closed except for one. The sound of the television came from there.
Hurrying over, Heinrich glanced in. Disappointment replaced hope. He saw a sofa, a couple of armchairs, and a television playing some kid’s channel in Dutch, but the room was unoccupied.
Of course it wouldn’t be that easy, Heinrich griped to himself.
He went up and down the hall, listening at the doors, but didn’t hear anything. He tried a couple of the doors and found they opened into bedrooms. In one, he found a set of car keys, which he pocketed. The third room gave him a surprise. It was a sumptuous bedroom with a four-poster bed and old tapestries. On the bedside table sat his phone and wallet.
After grabbing them, Heinrich closed the door behind him and turned on his phone. The battery was at three percent. Never mind; it was enough to make a call to 112, the emergency number in Europe.
He dialed. Nothing happened. He tried again, with the same result. Then he looked at his signal and found that he didn’t have one. Either the remoteness of this place or the thick stone walls meant he couldn’t contact the outside world.
Leaving the bedroom, Heinrich continued down the hall. When he got to where it turned and ran along the other side of the castle, he heard faint noises coming from the door at the far end.
He went up to it and pressed his ear against the wood.
“That’s right,” Anders voice said. “Remember not to look at the camera. Now flick the whip.”
Heinrich heard a snapping sound.
Anger boiled in him. That pervert was filming Arizona again?
He tried the latch of the door and found it unlocked.
Flinging it open, he burst inside.
He’d found the filming room all right, but not the scene he’d expected.
Anders manned a camera, his back to the door. Beyond him was a green-screened area. A man lay trussed to a wooden table. Casey stood over him, wearing a leather corset, fishnet stockings, and stiletto heels. She had been raising her whip when Heinrich had made his grand entrance.
Casey screamed. Anders spun around.
Heinrich leaped into the room. He was about to threaten Anders with his knife and meat cleaver but the pervert forced his hand by grabbing a huge medieval mace sitting on a table nearby—no doubt another prop for their weird little movie—and raising it above his head.
Heinrich struck first, blocking the swing of the mace with his meat cleaver and slashing his knife across Anders’s chest.
The scrawny porn director shrieked like a banshee and fell to the floor. He dropped his mace and curled up, cradling his chest and rocking back and forth.
Heinrich kicked the mace away, though it looked like Anders was out of the fight. The guy didn’t look cut that badly; he wasn’t even bleeding that much.
“Pain is fun on the screen but sucks in real life, eh?” Heinrich said.
Casey stood frozen in front of the green screen. The guy tied to the table turned his head in Heinrich’s direction but couldn’t see anything. He was blindfolded.
“Where’s Arizona?” Heinrich demanded.
Casey shrugged. “Dunno. Watching TV, probably.”
“In a fetish porn studio,” Heinrich grumbled. “Some mother.”
“Did you just assume my gender?”
Heinrich ignored her. He wasn’t in the mood. He noticed two portable hard drives sitting on a table and grabbed them, stuffing them into his pocket. Discarding the bloody knife and giving the moaning movie director on the floor a contemptuous kick, he strode over, grabbed Casey by the wrist, and pulled her to the door.
“Get your hands off me!” she shouted, raising her whip.
The look Heinrich gave her made her reconsider. She dropped the whip and hung her head.
“You can’t do this,” she said without conviction.
“Watch me.”
“I’m here by choice.”
“Your daughter isn’t. Where is she?”
They had entered the hallway. Pulling Casey along, Heinrich hurried back to the television room. No one.
“Damn it! Where could she be?”
The sound of a flushing toilet from next door answered his question. The door opened and Arizona emerged, wearing pajamas. She didn’t seem the least bit surprised to see her mother in fetish gear. Instead, she looked at Heinrich and smiled.
“You came back! Will you take me to Daddy now?”
“Right away.”
Heinrich reached for her but Casey slapped away his hand.
“Don’t touch her, creep!”
“Anders has been putting her in his movies and you’re calling me a creep?”
Casey’s face registered shock for a moment. “That’s not true,” she said, frowning.
To free up his hands, Heinrich tucked the meat cleaver into his belt. He grabbed both Casey and Arizona. “No time to argue.”
He hustled them down the hallway to the top of the stairs. Anders’s voice shouted something in Dutch, the sound echoing down the stone halls. To make better time, Heinrich picked up Arizona, almost lost Casey when she tried to bolt, and then descended the steps.
“Help!” Casey shouted. “Help! He’s kidnapping me and my daughter!”
“Oh, for Christ’s sake, shut up,” Heinrich growled.
“Help!”
“Mommy, stop shouting. He’s here to save us.”
“We don’t need saving, and we don’t need your father.”
“But I miss him!” Arizona started crying.
They made it to the bottom of the stairs and stopped short. The twins had just entered the entrance hallway from a side door. Both glared at him, reached into their pockets, and pulled out brass knuckles.
A noise from upstairs made Heinrich glance over his shoulder. Another man, one he didn’t recognize, stood at the top of the stairs.
The twins smiled and stalked toward him.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Heinrich set down Arizona.
“Cover your daughter’s eyes!” he shouted at Casey as he pulled the meat cleaver out of his waistband and flung it at the twins. They dodged and it clanged harmlessly off the far wall.
Heinrich didn’t care because he had thrown it mostly to free his hands. Next to him stood one of the suits of armor, a halberd in its gauntleted grip. It had a thick wooden shaft about six feet long; on the end was a broad axe head tipped with a long spike. The back of the axe head had a little hammer. It was a nasty weapon, no matter which way you used it.
As Heinrich yanked it out of the gauntlet, the whole suit tipped over and fell to the floor with a crash. The twins backed off. Heinrich grinned and brandished the halberd at them.
One of the twins, the one who still bore marks on his face from where Heinrich had pasted him a good one, ran for the other suit of armor. Being on the other side of the stairs, it was almost within reach of Heinrich’s weapon, so he stepped forward and jabbed at the twin.
However, he was unfamiliar with the heavy weapon and managed to only graze him on the shoulder. The twin jumped back, now gripping a halberd of his own.
For a second, no one moved. A clanging from upstairs made Heinrich glance in that direction. The man up there had pulled a sword off the wall.