They were both breathing heavily and the backs of Mersiha's legs were aching from the strain of walking downhill.
'Dad, what are we going to do?'
I 'We've got to go to the police, pumpkin. You know that.' m Mersiha slipped and almost lost her footing, but Freeman * grabbed her by the arm and steadied her. 'Careful,' he warned.
They started down the hill again, moving from tree to tree because the ground was getting progressively steeper as they 1 neared the road. 'Dad? Do we have to go to the police?'
I 'Those men killed the balloon crew. And if they'd caught us, j we'd be dead, too.' ‹J: 'But after what I did to Sabatino…' She left the sentence | unfinished.
Freeman said nothing for a while, and Mersiha turned to look at him. His face was in torment and she looked away quickly, r knowing exactly what he was thinking: she'd killed a man, she'd done it deliberately, and she'd done it with his gun. The deaths on the snowfield were clearly self-defence, but the police might look differently on what had happened in Sabatino's office. 'He tried to rape you, pumpkin.' Her father's voice sounded oddly flat. They went down the rest of the way in silence, concentrating
on keeping their footing on the treacherous hillside. They had to skirt the highway for a hundred yards before finding a place where they could drop safely down on to the asphalt. They were on a sharp bend, so they dashed across the road to a place where they'd be more visible. 'Which way's the town?' Mersiha asked.
Freeman frowned up at the sky, trying to get his bearings. The sun was almost directly overhead and didn't help much. Tm not sure, but it'll be too far to walk anyway.'
A truck sounded its horn angrily and they stepped back.
Freeman tried to flag it down but it sped by. Either the driver hadn't seen his frantic waving or he couldn't be bothered to pick up a couple of hitchhikers. They stood together, shivering.
Freeman hugged his daughter, trying to supply warmth and comfort. Mersiha felt suddenly small and defenceless in his arms, and she rested her head on his chest. She could hear his heart beating, strong and regular like a metronome. His arms began to slide down her back and she pulled away, fearful that he'd find the hidden gun. 'What's wrong?' Freeman asked.
'Nothing. I thought I heard a car coming.'
Freeman lifted his chin and listened. 'I can't hear anything.
But I'm sure there'll be something soon. Don't worry.'
'Should we start walking?' She was scared that he'd try to hug her again.
'Let's rest for a while. There's no point in walking if we don't know which way to go. If we start to get too cold, we'll walk. Okay?'
'Okay,' she agreed.
There was a large rock at the apex of the bend which had been painted with yellow-green warning stripes, and they sat on it. 'Are you feeling okay?' Freeman asked.
'I'm tired. And a bit wet.'
'I meant… you know.'
Mersiha knew exactly what he meant. She'd killed two men and he wanted to know how she felt about it. How she was dealing with it. But she also knew that he wouldn't want to hear the truth. He wanted her to say that she was shocked, distraught, remorseful, the way people normally felt when they'd taken someone's life. What he didn't want to hear was the truth that she felt absolutely nothing. They'd attacked her. She'd killed them. End of story. She wrapped her arms around her legs and put her chin on her knees as she explored her inner feelings, trying to see if she was missing something, but she knew she was wasting her time. There was nothing, just contempt and hatred for the men with the guns. She thought about the ground crew, riddled with bullets and dying in the snow, and she thought about Tim, dead but with his eyes wide open. She was sorry that they were dead, sort of, but it wasn't the sort of grief she'd felt when her parents had died. She looked at her father. He was waiting patiently for her to answer his question. She shrugged and saw the hurt in his eyes.
He was about to say something else when they both heard the growl of an engine. Mersiha jumped down off the rock and waved her arms in the air. She jumped up and down. 'It's a car!' she shouted as Freeman slid down.* In the distance they saw a red Jeep Wrangler, a blonde woman at the wheel.
Jenny Welch didn't believe in God – she'd seen enough men crying for salvation before she'd blown them away to know that there was no saviour – but she definitely believed in fate. And the fact that Freeman and the girl were standing by the side of the road waving their arms and shouting for her to stop didn't surprise her in the least. They were fated to die. And fate had decreed that it would be at her hand. She couldn't think how they'd managed to get away from Kiseleva and the snowmobiles, but maybe that was fate, too. She smiled and gently applied the brakes, coming to a stop on the bend. 'You guys want a lift?' she asked brightly, winding down the window. She knew that there was no possibility of them recognising her – she'd never got close to them on horseback and she'd had her hair tucked up inside her fur hat.
'Are you going into town?' Freeman asked.
Mersiha climbed into the back seat. There were red stains on the front of her jacket.
'What happened?' Jenny asked, pointing at the marks.
Mersiha looked guiltily at her father. 'Ketchup,' he said. 'We had breakfast at Burger King.'
'Yeah, I've done that before,' Jenny laughed. 'You take one bite and everything shoots out the other side.'
Freeman got into the front passenger seat and Jenny drove off.
'So, were you guys hiking?' she asked.
'Sort of,' Freeman said. He sat back and rubbed his eyes. He sighed deeply.
'You sound exhausted,' Jenny said.
'Bad day.'
'You wanna tell me about it?'
Freeman shook his head. 'Just a bad day.'
Jenny studied Mersiha in the driving mirror. She was beautiful, despite the strain on her face. She had a lovely jawline and high cheekbones, and huge eyes that seemed about to burst into tears. It wasn't the face of a killer, but she could see how Bzuchar's brother could have allowed her to get close to him. Jenny smiled to herself. Time and time again she'd managed to get to targets for exactly the same reason – people assumed that she was too pretty and too feminine to be a threat.
'Do you live around here?' Mersiha asked.
'No. I'm a tourist. You?'
'We're on vacation too,' Freeman said.
'Skiing?'
'Horse-riding,' Mersiha replied.
'Yeah? I'm allergic'Jenny smiled at her in the mirror, if I so much as see a picture of a horse, I start sneezing. So, where do you guys wanna go?'
Mersiha put a hand on her father's shoulder and he looked around. Something unspoken passed between them. 'Our cabin,' he said eventually.
'Yeah? Where's that?'
'You can drop us in town. We'll get a cab.'
'A cab at this time of year?' Jenny laughed, i don't think so.
I'll take you right to the cabin. Just tell me how to get there.'
'Are you sure?' Freeman asked.
'Hey. What else have I got to do? I'm on vacation, remember.'
'Thanks, that's really nice of you.'
Jenny smiled. 'Just show me the way.'
Mersiha said nothing as Jenny drove. Freeman made small talk about horse-riding and where the best places to ski were.
Jenny had to admire the man's guts. He'd been pursued through the mountains, shot at, seen several men killed, escaped, temporarily at least, in a balloon, yet he chatted away as if he'd done nothing more strenuous than a little window-shopping.
He seemed a pleasant enough guy, the real fatherly type. Not like her own father, she thought. He didn't have the predatory look in his eyes which her father had developed once she'd gotten beyond the age when she could ride Tess. She shivered as she remembered the late-night visits, the promises of the things he'd buy her if she did what he asked, the threats if she ever told.
'Cold?' Freeman asked.
'No. Someone walked over my grave,' she said, smiling. Not her grave, she thought savagely. Her fa
ther's grave. Well, not really a grave at all, just a lime-filled hole behind the barn where he'd never be found.
'That's the track where we turn off,' Freeman said.
'I see it.' In fact she'd already seen it but hadn't let on. She indicated and waited for a mini-van full of skiers to drive by before turning on to the track. Mersiha reached over and put her hand on her father's shoulder. He patted her hand. Jenny was suddenly jealous. It was a father-daughter relationship the like of which she'd never experienced. Total trust and understanding, not after-dark fumblings and threats.
'Wait!' Freeman said sharply.
Jenny slammed on the brakes. 'What? What's the matter?'
'Look,' he said.
Jenny looked. There were two vehicles parked in front of the cabin. Bzuchar's Jeep Cherokee and a white Lincoln Continental.
'What's wrong?' she asked, even though she knew what he was thinking. She turned off the engine.
Freeman turned around in his seat and looked at Mersiha. 'We have to go to the police,' he said. Mersiha nodded silently.
'Why? What's happened?' Jenny asked.
'I can't tell you,' he said. 'Please, just do as I say.'
Jenny shrugged. She turned the key, but not all the way.
She cursed, and tried again. 'God, that's twice it's happened today. There's a loose connection to the battery or something.
My husband was going to get it fixed but…'
'Come on, come on,' Freeman said urgently.
'I'll have to open the hood,' she said. 'Can you look at it for me?'
Freeman swallowed nervously. Jenny made a show of trying again. Nothing. She smiled brightly. 'It's easy to fix, really. It took my husband less than a minute.'
'Dad…' Mersiha said apprehensively. 'Let's go.'
'It's better we drive than walk, pumpkin,' he said, climbing out of the Jeep.
He pulled the hood open and peered inside. 'Why don't you help your dad?' Jenny suggested.
Mersiha nodded and clambered out to join her father. 'Stay in the car. We're not hanging around here,' he said.
'But she said…'
'I don't care what she said. Do as I say.'
They looked up as they heard the sound of a bullet being chambered. Jenny stood at the side of the Jeep, the submachine pistol in her hands. Freeman looked as if he was going to run and Jenny pointed the Ingram at him. 'I think you'd both better do as I say, don't you?' Without being asked, Freeman and Mersiha raised their hands. Jenny smiled. 'There's no need for that. I don't think you're going to give me a hard time, not when I've got firepower like this.' She gestured with the gun for them to walk to the cabin. Freeman and Mersiha lowered their arms and walked together down the track. He put his arm around her shoulders.
It was a touching scene, Jenny thought. But not touching enough for her to spare their lives.
Freeman's shoulders slumped as if he'd given up all hope, but Jenny wasn't fooled – she could see that he was heading for the pile of cut wood and that his hand was swinging a little to the side. 'Freeman, if you even try to reach for that axe, I'll shoot your daughter,' she said. Freeman instantly pulled his hand back
as if he'd been stung. Jenny kept her distance as she shepherded them between the two vehicles and up on to the deck. 'Open the door,' she told Mersiha.
Katherine Freeman dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief, but the man on the sofa was unmoved. 'You can't kill them,' she said.
'I can do whatever I want,' Utsyev said. 'I'm the one with the gun, remember?'
'She's just a girl. A sixteen-year-old girl.'
'She killed my brother. She blew his face away.'
'She must have had a reason.'
Utsyev chuckled. It sounded like the rustling of long-dead leaves. 'And that makes a difference, does it?' | Katherine sniffed. She blew her nose loudly. 'How do you know it was her?'
'She used your husband's gun. And my men saw her going into my brother's office.'
Katherine shook her head. She began to cry again. 'Please don't hurt her. She's only a child.' Utsyev said nothing.
They heard steps on the deck outside. Katherine started to get to her feet but Utsyev held a finger to his lips and pointed die gun at her head. Katherine twisted around on the sofa. The door _ | opened. It was Mersiha. Behind her was Tony, his hand on her I shoulder. Katherine jumped up, shouting for all she was worth.
'Run, Tony! Run! He's going to kill you!' The door continued to open, revealing a tall blonde woman holding a large gun.
Utsyev threw back his head and laughed. Freeman and Mersiha stepped into the middle of the room and the woman Iclosed the door behind them. Katherine hugged her husband and then pulled Mersiha to her. 'Are you all right?' she said.
'What are you doing here?' Freeman said.
'I came to warn you,' she answered. Freeman shook his head, sadly.
'Who's she?' Jenny asked Utsyev.
'The wife,' he said.
'The wife?' she repeated. She tossed back her hair. 'That means we can kill three birds with one stone.'
Freeman stood in front of Katherine and Mersiha and stared at Utsyev. The man looked ill. His skin was deathly pale and his eyes seemed rimmed in black as if he hadn't slept for a long time. He had his back to a window and the light behind his close-cropped grey hair formed a halo around his skull. Freeman instinctively knew that there was no way he could talk the man out of what he intended to do. He was a stone-cold killer, with eyes that held no human warmth at all. There was no point in pleading for their lives. As if reading his mind, Utsyev aimed the gun at Freeman's stomach. 'You won't get away with it,'
Freeman said.
'We'll see,' Utsyev countered.
'Let me do it, Bzuchar,' Jenny said eagerly.
'Quiet.' He narrowed his eyes at Freeman. 'Suppose someone killed your daughter? Wouldn't you want revenge?'
Freeman looked him straight in the eyes. 'I'd want justice. Not revenge.'
'How very fucking civilised of you…'
'He was going to rape me!' Mersiha blurted out.
Utsyev looked at Katherine. 'See – she doesn't even deny it.'
'If your brother was trying to hurt her, of course she'd defend herself.'
'She went there with a gun!' Utsyev screamed. 'She went to see my brother with a fucking gun and she shot him dead.' He was waving his gun around and Freeman could see that he was close to firing it.
Katherine moved to stand by her husband. 'Don't hurt her,' she pleaded. 'If it's revenge you want, then kill me. Kill me!'
'Katherine, no!' Mersiha shouted. 'Don't beg. Please don't beg. It won't work.'
Utsyev was breathing heavily, his chest heaving as he glared at them. He aimed the gun at Katherine, then swung his arm sideways. 'I'm going to shoot the little bitch first.' He squeezed the trigger, but before he could fire Freeman moved in front of his daughter.
'No!' he said. 'You can't.'
Jenny stepped forward and slammed the butt of her gun against Freeman's temple, knocking him to the ground. 'We can do what the fuck we want,' she said. She turned to Utsyev.
'Let me, Bzuchar. Let me kill him.'
'You always had a thing about father figures,' Utsyev said evilly. He grinned and waved his gun at Freeman. 'Go ahead.'
Jenny brought her gun to bear on Freeman as he knelt on the floor, holding his hands to his bleeding temple. Katherine screamed and threw herself at Jenny, grabbing hold of the weapon and kneeing her in the stomach. The air burst from Jenny's throat and she doubled over. Bullets sprayed across the wall over the fireplace, shattering a mirror and screeching off the light-fittings. Katherine and Jenny fell on to the sofa, still fighting over the gun. It fired again and the television exploded.
Freeman staggered to his feet and headed unsteadily towards them. 'Katherine!' he shouted.
Utsyev fired his silenced gun and Freeman felt his right hand explode. He held it up to his face in astonishment. It was covered in blood and a chunk of flesh was missing from his palm, close
to the base of the thumb. As he stared at die wound the pain hit and he gasped. He staggered backwards, his left hand holding his right wrist. Utsyev's gun coughed again and Freeman felt a bullet slam into his right leg. He fell sideways and crashed to the floor. Utsyev stood over him, grinning. 'How does it feel, Freeman?' he hissed. 'How does it feel to die?'
On the sofa, Katherine was screaming. Freeman looked over at her. She was flat on her back with Jenny on top, the submachine-gun between them. It went off again and bullets ripped into the ceiling. Bits of wood and plaster floated around them like a light snowfall.
Freeman saw Mersiha standing at the end of the sofa. She was looking right at him, as if there were no one else in the room. Her hand moved behind her back and reappeared with a gun. He saw her flick the safety catch off with her thumb. She was still looking directly at him. Katherine screamed again. Jenny was forcing the barrel of the Ingram down towards her face, her finger still on the trigger. Freeman looked back at Mersiha. She had the gun up but she was still looking at him. He knew what she was waiting for. His permission. His approval. Katherine screamed again. Mersiha's mouth opened a fraction. She licked her lips nervously. Her eyes darted over to look at Katherine and Jenny fighting on the sofa, then back to Freeman. He knew without a shadow of a doubt that unless he said it was okay she wouldn't fire the gun. She'd made him a promise and only he could release her from it. It was up to him. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, he nodded, looking deep into her eyes as he did so.
Mersiha whirled around, both hands on the butt of the gun, and fired, two shots. Jenny was knocked backwards over the sofa, her blood smearing down the wall as she fell against it.
Utsyev roared like a bull and swung his gun around. Freeman lashed out with his left leg, catching the man just below the knee and knocking him off balance. Mersiha fired again and put two bullets in his chest. He fell to his knees, then keeled over backwards. Mersiha let the gun drop to the floor.
Katherine rolled off the sofa, coughing and spluttering.
She gasped when she saw Freeman on the floor, bleeding from his hand and leg. She crawled over to him and hugged him so tightly that the breath was forced from his body. 'I love you, Tony,' she whispered, her breath warm against his ear.
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