Broken Arrow ac-8

by Paul Kane

"Hey, it'll be just like the old days, 'cept for the fact you've got a sprog now, eh?"

  Gwen stood, holding Clive Jr close to her. "If you go near him, I'll-"

  Jace pulled out a pistol and levelled it at her. "You'll what, Duchess?"

  Her eyes were fixed on the gun. Gwen was keenly aware that he'd pull the trigger in a heartbeat. He had a grudge not only against her, but this whole place.

  "Now, take it easy and everything will be fine." Jace's eyes were crawling downwards, over the front of her jumper, just as they had that day when she'd deliberately enticed him into the room. He'd been distracted then, the horny little shit, and she'd been able to get the better of him. How was she supposed to do that now, holding Clive Jr and with a handgun pointed at her?

  "I seem to recall that you got me to strip off the last time we met. So, how's about we start by you returning the favour."

  "Please… My son."

  "What about him?"

  "You can't, not in front of him."

  "Listen, I've been banged up in that fucking hotel jail the best part of a year, bitch. I haven't had any in all that time, so I'm going to make up for it. Just a happy coincidence that it's you, so I can kill two birds with one stone. Now, put him down so you can get on with things."

  Gwen closed her eyes out of resignation. It was all happening again, wasn't it? It would happen in this room, just as it had before. But instead of the Sheriff it would be some wet behind the ears young thug. Only she'd changed so much, been forced to change. She'd do what he wanted, just until she could get that piece off him. Then she'd fucking well blow his brains out.

  "I said put him down!" shouted Jace.

  Gwen placed Clive Jr in the corner, telling him everything was going to be okay. Then she turned to Jace.

  "Make it nice and slow. I don't want to miss nothing." He said.

  Swallowing dryly, Gwen took hold of the bottom of her jumper and began to raise it. She took her time, like he said, but was apparently taking too long, because Jace jabbed the gun in her direction and told her to get the jumper off. "Now! I want to see."

  Gwen pushed her elbow into the hem of the jumper and peeled it off. It wasn't particularly cold but she shivered anyway, and thanked God she'd worn a bra today. It was the last thing standing between Jace's beady little pig-eyes and her nakedness.

  "That too," Jace ordered, indicating the bra. He licked his lips, eyes glued to her chest. With his free hand he began to undo his belt, his trousers swelling where he was growing excited.

  Gwen began to walk towards him. "Wouldn't you like to get a closer look, Jace? Maybe touch them?"

  He straightened his gun arm and pushed her back. "I'm not falling for that twice. I'm not a moron."

  Are you sure about that? thought Gwen. Quick as a flash she flung the jumper at him, knocking the gun sideways and allowing her a clear shot with her foot, to kick him between the legs. Jace managed to twist around, though, and the kick caught him on the thigh.

  Angrily, he pushed her back, shrugging the jumper off his gun and pointing it at her again. "Gonna regret that."

  Gwen tensed herself, but the shot didn't come. He didn't want to kill his plaything. Instead, he turned the weapon in the direction of Clive Jr.

  "No, please. Not my son. I'll do anything."

  "You will anyway," Jace reminded her. "Remember what you said to me last time, how was I going to do anything with my 'maggot'? Heh. When I've shut the kid up, I'm going to show you exactly what I can do."

  Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. As she flung herself across the room — in an effort to put her body between the bullet and Clive Jr — Gwen noticed every tiny detail. Like the slight pressure on the trigger of the pistol; Jace's forehead crinkling as he concentrated on shooting her boy; the scar along his chin stretched tighter than ever. And the exact moment Jace's expression changed, his face creasing up in pain rather than concentration. At the exact same time a trickle of blood sprang from the corner of his mouth and began its downward journey.

  Then there was the flash of metal and Jace was pitching forward, the gun falling from his grasp. He caught her eye as he followed it, dropping first to his knees, before coughing up blood. She knew he was thinking: Why is this happening to me? I'm not such a bad guy.

  Gwen felt nothing as he collapsed onto the carpet, but she could now see the vicious blow that had caused his death. A long cut across his back, so deep it had probably severed his spinal column. And behind Jace, his attacker. The man she hadn't even seen or heard come in.

  He stood there, blade dripping with Jace's blood, the hood he wore obscuring his features. But Gwen knew what he looked like. Knew it was him.

  Knew that under that hood there was a painted face, a skull. Lifting the machete, he wiped the blood off on the edge of his dark robes.

  Frozen in the process of running to Clive Jr, Gwen gaped at him, not comprehending. Skullface had just saved her, and her child.

  Clive Jr! Gwen found she could move again and went to her son, gathering him up into her arms. She didn't once take her eyes off the cultist, though.

  He had something in his other hand, the one not clutching his huge knife. He tossed it over, and when she held it up she saw it was one of their robes. "Put it on," he said. His voice was flat, robotic, but was she imaging things or was there a hint of humanity in there? (She thought this regardless of the fact this man had just killed someone in cold blood without showing a trace of emotion.) At first Gwen thought he might also be telling her this to cover up her dignity — as she was still standing in only her bra and jeans. Then she realised he had other plans.

  "They will be coming for you soon," he stated. "You must leave the castle."

  "Who will? The soldiers? Are they going to kill us?" Gwen placed Clive Jr down by her feet a moment while she slipped into the robes.

  Skullface, who still hadn't removed his hood, answered: "They are taking you and the other women to the forest."

  "What?" Gwen was more confused than ever. Why would they take them to the forest to kill them? And why just the women?

  "You are to be bait."

  Bait? She still didn't understand… unless Robert had returned to Sherwood? But then surely they'd take just Mary? Gwen cast her mind back to the hostages that had been on the gallows when De Falaise had been at the castle — Robert had been willing to come into the castle grounds alone to save them. Perhaps they were banking on him coming out because they had some of his closest friends? Closest female friends? The sexist shits.

  It still didn't explain why this guy was helping her escape, why he'd stopped Jace from attacking them. From attacking Clive Jr…

  "Why?" she asked as she scooped up Clive Jr again, joining the cultist at the door. "Why are you doing this for us? For him?"

  "He must be kept safe," said the man in that monotone voice, tinged with the slightest hint of compassion. "Hide him under your robes."

  Gwen did as she was told, covering Clive Jr as much as she could, before pulling up the hood to conceal her features. Their saviour led them out of the office and into the castle, where other robed figures were waiting.

  She didn't have much option but to go with them, especially as they were able to move freely. Where they were taking her, she had no idea, but Gwen began to hope again.

  For her there was always New Hope.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  It was already dark by the time they arrived, and they hit the mist about a mile outside Sherwood. The moon was on the horizon and Tanek recognised its red tinge instantly. He knew all too well what they called it.

  Fog lamps kicked in and allowed the drivers of the armoured vehicles to see roughly a car's distance ahead of them. They'd brought three AFVs — a couple being Armoured Personnel Carriers, while theirs was a cannon-wielding BTR-90 — and a couple of jeeps. All they'd need to tackle a few fugitives.

  Tanek rode with The Tsar and the twins. The Tsar had insisted on coming along personally, he'd said because he didn't wa
nt Hood and his men escaping this time. Tanek suspected it was more to do with keeping an eye on him. They were coming to a parting of the ways, anyone could see that, but it was fine. The Tsar and his men had played their part. Tanek was based back in Nottingham again. And, by a twist of fate, even that dolt Bohuslav was out of the picture. Which meant, if Tanek was to take control of this operation, he would only have to deal with the twins.

  Only.

  He remembered how adept they were. How skilled with those swords. One at a time, maybe. But when they worked as a pair, they were lethal.

  Actually, everyone being in the same place, at the same time, might work to his advantage. If they were killed, he could blame the renegades — after killing them as well, plus any witnesses among The Tsar's men. Wouldn't be easy, but he'd pulled trickier things off.

  Then he and Adele would have a little chat about how to move forwards. He could see her mind ticking over about what would happen once The Tsar was no longer in command. Ultimately Tanek thought she'd make a fine leader. Eventually. He'd already seen shades of his old master in her, especially the cruelty she'd displayed when torturing that scum, Jack. But she needed guidance. De Falaise had asked him to look after her, and he would. She'd take the reins only when he deemed she was ready.

  She caught his eye as he was thinking this and smiled. Adele had come along as well because: "None of them know the truth about me. I can be another hostage." Along with a virtually unconscious Mary and the nurse, who'd managed to stabilise Hood's woman and splint her leg. The Tsar had at least told him he was right to keep her alive, because in spite of the fact Hood was dead — and Tanek still wasn't entirely convinced about that — the others would still surrender if their leader's woman was threatened.

  Tanek had also been told that Gwen had been captured, and he'd ordered someone to go fetch her because she had a link to the holy man. Worryingly, they'd only found the body of ex-prisoner Jace in the room where she was being held. The grounds had quickly been searched, but there was no sign of her. Tanek wasn't surprised, not after the way she'd behaved on the day of the hangings. It really wasn't that much of an issue — just another loose end to tie up at a later point, like finishing off Jack — but it irked Tanek all the same. She had been De Falaise's woman, so it was a matter of principle.

  "How long until we are there?" Tanek heard The Tsar shout to the driver.

  "We are almost at Sherwood, sire," came the reply.

  The Tsar nodded, satisfied. "You see? Russian efficiency. We have made excellent time."

  "We should have waited until the morning," Tanek replied. Night had fallen and now there was this mist. If the trees didn't provide cover enough, then both of those would. Except the plan was not to go into the forest — which would be suicide even at the best of times — but to force them to come out.

  "And allow them to move on? We suspect they are here, right now. Why give them the opportunity to slip through our fingers again?" That last one was another dig at Tanek, even though he'd been busy dealing with Jack at the time of their escape.

  "They won't leave Sherwood yet. It is where Hood will come when-"

  "Hood? Hood again. Tanek, the man is dead. Will you not get that through your thick skull!"

  One more crack like that and I will reach over and crush your windpipe, thought Tanek.

  "Then we should have waited because of Hood's men. They will almost certainly try to regain the castle."

  The Tsar waved a hand. "And do what? Shoot their little bows and arrows at my men?"

  "It's what they did to Bohuslav's troops," Tanek retorted. It didn't do to underestimate Hood or his men, as they'd found out to their cost in the past. Tanek had a grudging admiration for the man, which he knew De Falaise would understand. It wouldn't stop him obliterating all of his followers, or indeed The Hooded Man himself if he still existed. Tanek had made a promise to avenge the man he had followed, not because of his lures of power, but because he had a vision. A vision which might yet be a reality.

  Before The Tsar had a chance to say anything more, the driver informed them that they were pulling into the visitor centre's car park. It was empty, which Tanek knew didn't prove a thing. Any transportation the fugitives might have used would have been moved by now; that's if they'd even entered the forest from here in the first place. Sherwood was a big area, but Adele seemed to think this would be the best spot having followed Hood before.

  "Turn the spotlights on," ordered The Tsar. The vehicles formed a rough semi-circle and trained their beams on the area just ahead of them, breaking through the mist. "This is where we will get their attention, yes?"

  Armed men were already filling up the lit area, standing guard by the vehicles, and a rap on their AFV told them they were ready for Adele. Tanek opened up the hatch and climbed out, dragging Adele with him; the crossbow he was carrying pointing at her temple. They had to make this look realistic.

  From another AFV came the small nurse and Mary. The latter was being carried by two soldiers, still pretty much out of it. The left leg of her jeans was ripped, the broken limb beneath kept straight between two pieces of wood. Her face was a mess, right eye swelled and black from bruising, but the nurse had managed to clean her up somewhat. There were plasters covering the wounds on her cheek and forehead, the edges of stitches poking out from beneath. She lolled between the two men as they dragged her along. Then they dumped her on the ground in the middle of the spotlights. When the nurse shouted something at them, she got a backhanded slap for her trouble.

  "I am addressing the deserters who fled like cowards from Nottingham Castle," came The Tsar's address through the loud-speaker attached to his vehicle. "We are holding three of your friends in the entrance to Sherwood and will kill them one by one unless you surrender yourselves to us. You have one quarter hour to comply and then the first is dead."

  Anyone on this side of the forest should have heard that, it had certainly been loud enough. Depending on where they were it should also give them enough time to reach the car park, unless they were deep into the trees. If they couldn't get there in time? Well, too bad. They'd execute the nurse.

  Tanek scanned the edge of the mist for any movement. There was nothing. So they waited.

  When they'd been there almost ten minutes, The Tsar repeated his demands. Tanek looked at his watch. They were running out of time.

  "We need to get Mary back inside!" said the nurse. "She's freezing out here."

  "No one is going anywhere," Tanek told her, turning the crossbow on the woman.

  His reward was a glower, but she stayed put.

  Come on, Tanek said to himself. Where are you? Make your move.

  Then someone stepped out of the mist. A figure wearing a hood, carrying a bow. On the ground, he saw Mary stir.

  Tanek grinned to himself, not just because he could picture The Tsar's face in the AFV — and imagine him having to swallow his words — but also because he would now get the opportunity to kill Hood himself.

  The Tsar's voice came over the speaker. "So, you are still alive after all? Then I will have your head for what you did this morning!"

  Shots rang out, and before Tanek could tell them that The Hooded Man was his prize, bullets from one of the soldiers guarding Mary and the nurse peppered Hood's torso. He sank heavily to the ground. If he hadn't been dead before, then he certainly was now. Tanek swore under his breath and, turning, shot the offending guard with his crossbow. "He was mine!"

  As he was turning back to the scene, though, Tanek's mouth fell open. Hood had climbed to his feet, bow and arrow poised. Adele stared in amazement too. What was he, indestructible? A ghost? He certainly looked the part with that mist swirling around him.

  They'd hardly had time to recover from this when another figure stepped out of the fog on their right. This one also wearing a hood and carrying the same weapons.

  Seconds later, there was another on their left. It was almost as if the man had cloned himself.

  Tanek frowned.
One of these had to be the real Hood — he'd just kill them all! With his bare hands if necessary.

  Before he could do anything, arrows were fired into the circle from somewhere beyond the trio. They took out the spotlights on the lead vehicle, then the others.

  "Shoot!" Tanek ordered. But, glancing around, he saw that a good number of the soldiers were already on the floor, unconscious. They'd been silently put out of commission by someone while their attention had been focused elsewhere.

  Then he saw the culprit. Yet another hooded figure jumped from the top of an AFV, down into the small group guarding the hostages. He was dispatching soldiers with a sword, incapacitating them before they could get a shot off — slashing two across the face, then burying the end in another's shoulder before Tanek could blink. Once he had, Tanek raised his crossbow and fired.

  The man stepped sideways, letting the bolt bounce off the metal of the AFV. He took out a knife and threw it at Tanek, where it embedded itself in his right arm. He immediately lost his grip on the crossbow.

  More lights were put out, forcing the scarlet moon above to work harder. Everything was taking on a crimson shade.

  The remainder of The Tsar's soldiers were climbing out of their vehicles, but were being picked off by the three Hoods who'd come out of the mist; moving forward and firing all the time. Weirdly, one was not using a bow and arrow, but instead had a shotgun.

  Meanwhile, the Hood with the sword was helping the nurse get Mary to her feet — the gentle way he was holding the injured woman speaking volumes.

  "Robert," said Adele.

  Tanek indicated that the women should move off into the mist, where another figure had appeared; a fat, bald man. The mystery arrow firer, Tate.

  Tanek pulled the knife out of his arm, wincing only slightly. He felt pain, just didn't show it, he never did. As the Hood who'd thrown it — the original, of that he was certain — came towards him, he grabbed Adele and put the knife against her throat.

  "Tell them to put down their weapons. Or I'll put it to use."

  Hood paused. "Go ahead."