by K. Sterling
“I know just what the CIA needs,” Reginald said loudly as he lowered onto a step. He opened one of the laptops and his hand flailed impatiently as it came awake. “Let’s see how they like fighting a battle on two fronts once China and the MSS finds out that the CIA’s found that list!” He said and laughed then ducked when something exploded in the courtyard.
“That’s brilliant, Marston!” Toly yelled as he covered his ears.
“Get under the stairs!” Paul commanded Reginald. Lane turned to make sure Aiden was out of the way but he was already tucked under the stairs and had his arms wrapped tightly around his vest. He looked furious but safe so Lane winked at him then gestured for Toly and Reginald to take cover.
“Call everyone back! We have to hold the house!” Alon shouted into his sleeve. Footmen filled the hall and passed out gas masks.
“What the...?” Aiden complained.
“Put them on!” Blink shouted as Grim limped into the hall with his cloak billowing around him. He was wearing a gas mask with a skull painted on the face and laughing as he tugged on thick black rubber gloves then caught an M16 Hawk tossed at him and pulled the strap over his shoulder.
“God help us,” Lane whispered as Hawk slid in next to him. Lane pulled on his mask then remembered that Grim was on their team and said a prayer for the poor idiots storming Blackhurst. He stopped praying when he realized how close the action was getting to the house as men in tuxedos filled the courtyard. An explosion and shattering sounded from the direction of the kitchen and the back terrace.
“We can’t hold them!” Wilder warned just as Denver came running in from the east hallway.
“We cut off that hallway but they’re coming around the back,” he shouted at Blink before he sprinted up the stairs to the picture window. Denver used the butt of a sniper rifle to break out a pane then crouched into a firing position.
“They’re coming! We need to get them downstairs!” Wilder yelled and ducked as he fired at the kitchen. “I need someone to cover us.” He ran to the alcove and the foyer erupted in gunfire as men in black and white camo spilled in through the kitchen hall and dining room.
“Get down!” Lavender ordered as he strode into the foyer and Lane grabbed Paul and Hawk as everyone ducked. Bullets sprayed as Lavender spun and cleared the foyer and halls around him. The mercenaries in the hall and the dining room fell in tangled heaps and ran for cover. Alon sprinted and slid across the floor then clipped a line to the elevator gate’s iron frame. He was strapped into a harness and pushed another harness across the floor to Wilder.
“Send Gabriel,” Alon called and Ezra kept low and ran across the foyer to him. Alon threw an arm around Ezra and he screamed in shock as they went over the edge and down the shaft. Wilder ran to the elevator and clipped himself to the gate and waved.
“Come on, Aiden!” He said and Lane swore and prayed that Aiden would cooperate. His hands were pressed against his ears and for a moment, Lane expected him to shake his head but Aiden took a deep breath and dove at the elevator. Wilder grabbed him around the middle before he rolled over the side and Lane cringed as he heard Aiden cry “Fuck!” Alon reappeared a moment later and called for Sage. He didn’t hesitate and slid across the floor so Alon could catch him and they disappeared down the shaft.
“You should go with them!” Lane yelled at Hawk and he shook his head.
“I’ll stay with him!” He said and pointed at Grim. He’d taken position by the alcove and was keeping the back hall clear.
“Let’s go, Toly!” Wilder shouted from the elevator.
“Just a moment!” Toly said as he stepped out and reached for something invisible over his head and tossed it at the back lawn. There was a tremendous roar and the ground rumbled as the giant chandelier over the lobby shivered.
“What the hell was that?” Blink demanded and his jaw fell as smoke and dust rolled down the hallway and filled the dining room.
Chapter 26
“What the hell was that?” Cyril yelled in horror as smoke and debris filled the hall and dining room.
“You may have a house-sized crater in your backyard,” Ivanof said as Marston slid across the floor. Alon grabbed Marston as Ivanof gave Cyril a quick salute before he was pulled down the shaft by his husband.
“They’re coming in!” Walsh shouted and ran down the stairs as the picture window shattered and men repelled in from the roof.
“Do something, Grim!” Cyril ordered and sealed his mask as Grim swung his rifle around his back and spun. Cyril looked around and everyone he cared about had their masks donned.
“I thought you’d never ask!” Grim sang in his shrill screech then danced through the foyer tossing glass orbs at the dining room and twirled as he looped his arm over his head and launched more at the gallery and the stairs. The delicate balls of glass shattered, releasing clouds of red and green smoke. Tortured screams and coughs echoed through the halls but there was still gunfire in the courtyard and beyond the back terrace. Cyril stood and scanned, and for a moment, was paralyzed with shock as he took in the destroyed picture window and what he could see of his dining room as the smoke cleared. Bodies were scattered on the floor and the stairs and the walls were riddled with holes.
“Casper!” Hawkesworth called, snatching Cyril back from his horrified reverie. Hawkesworth ran at Grim and tossed his backpack at the study. Grim had the M16 and was firing at the dining room as Hawkesworth lowered so he could hop onto his back. Grim fired over Hawk’s shoulder as he dodged and leapt over bodies before they crashed into the study.
“The vault’s doors have been breached but we’re just about through,” Alon said in Cyril’s ear and his heart exploded as he panicked. There was no communication with the vault when the house’s generators were on so the locks couldn’t be bypassed without Cyril’s retina. He knew the treasures in the most secure part of the vault were safe but Cyril had no way of knowing if Farris was able to lock himself inside in time, if the back doors had been breached, or if he’d been hurt—or worse. Cyril felt a rush of wild, irrational rage but fought back the tears that flooded his eyes and clenched his fists to stop his hands from shaking. He stormed across the foyer to the elevator then lowered and wrapped the line around his arm and wound it around his waist before he hopped over the side. He fell several feet but the line jerked and Cyril planted his hand and feet on the wall then bounced off of it. He repelled down the shaft and found a crowd waiting at the bottom. Bradley, Sharp and Gabriel were operating blowtorches and the heat at the bottom of the shaft was oppressive. Ivanof, Martinez and Marston hung back against the opposite wall and shielded their faces and watched the foyer. Lavender, Grim, Hawkesworth, Walsh, West and Sloan were still up there with Alon’s men, holding the house. It took all of Cyril’s strength to keep from snarling and snatching a blowtorch from someone.
“Get us in there,” Cyril ordered and rocked because he couldn’t pace in the crowded shaft.
“This should do it,” Alon said and handed his blowtorch to Martinez then put his shoulder against the steel panel. It resisted for just a moment before it swung forward and everyone pressed themselves against the walls of the elevator shaft and listened as the loud bang echoed through the vault. Alon raised his pistol and peeked before he stepped through the hole and Cyril had the 204 aimed and ready as he followed but lowered it as he took in the destruction.
“Oh... God,” he whispered shakily. The air was heavy with smoke and the leather armchairs and sofas in the seating area were in tufts and chunks and bits of paper littered the floor. Rows of bookshelves had toppled like dominoes and the giant chandelier was a shattered disaster on the marble floor. “Farris?” Cyril called weakly as he crept forward. He couldn’t see any sign of Farris and his heart stopped when he spotted bodies by the back doors.
“Cyril?” Farris said as he peeked from behind one of the columns then stepped out with a 17th century German etched halberd. He was shirtless and covered in smudges and scratches but he was in one piece.
“What the hell happened?” Cyril asked but he was laughing as he pushed his weapon at Alon and went to Farris.
“I… Uh...” Farris rested the halberd against the column and spotted it as he backed away. Once he was sure the long battle-ax wouldn’t fall he pushed out a hard breath and ruffled his hair awkwardly as he turned back to the disaster behind him. “I figured they were coming so I took Grim’s potato cannon and set up a position. Up, over there,” he said and waved at the toppled shelves. Cyril blinked at them in horror.
“You set up a potato cannon on top of the bookshelves?” He clarified and Farris nodded.
“I had to jump off when they fired at me and I kind of caused all of that,” he explained with an apologetic wince.
“They fired at you?” Cyril repeated hoarsely and his blood pressure exploded as his face became hot.
“Easy!” Farris ordered and gave his chest a gentle pat. I dumped a vat of emulsion cleaner down the hall and rained thumbtacks on them once they started slipping and sliding,” he said and Marston laughed as he rose on his toes and leaned so he could inspect the damage.
“How did they get unconscious and hogtied?” Martinez asked as he eyed Farris with an obvious newfound respect.
“I did most of that with the potato cannon. I soaked my rags and knotted them. One of those to the head is like taking a line drive without a helmet. I got two of them with one of Elizabeth’s croquet mallets, while they were checking on their buddies,” Farris said and held up his hands. “I wasn’t about to let them break in and take something from us,” he stated.
“Christ, I love you!” Cyril groaned as he pulled Farris into his arms.
“Oh!” Farris yelped as he was kissed but he allowed it and his hands were shaking as they cradled Cyril’s face. “I’m glad you’re ok. Is it over?” He whispered.
“Not yet but it’s about to be,” Cyril said and pressed one last kiss to Farris’s lips before he released him. Alon, Ivnaof, Gabriel and Sharp were studying the ceiling and their fingernails but Marston was staring like an asshole.
“I hope we’re all invited to the wedding,” he said pointedly but Cyril’s tongue pushed against the inside of his cheek as he counted down from ten.
“Ivanof needs to stay off camera so I want him working on a video feed to the CIA and our friends at the MSS. Marston, help Farris locate the Goryeo meiping,” Cyril ordered and Marston and Farris took off for the storage vault as Ivanof went to work. “Let’s look over Grim’s things, shall we?” Cyril asked Alon.
“I’ll stay over here,” Bradley said and gestured at an armchair before he righted it and sat. Martinez, Sharp and Gabriel nodded as they joined him.
“Certainly, sir,” Alon said and they stepped over the bent bits of iron and shards of crystal and avoided the puddle of emulsion cleaner as they made their way to the platform. Cyril found a small blowtorch and nodded in approval when Alon held up a pair of long tongs.
“That should work,” Cyril said and turned as Farris and Marston returned with the meiping. Farris held it up and Cyril grinned as he waved at the other work table. “Are we recording?” He asked and Ivanof held up his thumb. “If you wouldn’t mind, professor,” Cyril said and stepped back so everyone could see Farris carry the meiping to the table.
“Let’s get on with it!” Marston urged, swiping the vase from Farris and smashing it on the floor.
“No!” Farris cried as he dropped but Marston beat him to it and dove at the little silver thumb drive amongst the porcelain chunks.
“I’ll pay for it,” Marston said and presented the drive to Cyril with a flourish. “We’d all like to get this over with and get back to our lives,” he added.
“Amen,” Gabriel called from what was left of one of the sofas and Cyril glanced at Ivanof to make sure he had a clear and unobstructed view.
“You thought you could take this from me?” Cyril asked whoever was watching then laughed wryly as Alon extended the tongs. Cyril held up the thumb drive so Ivanof could get a good look at it with his glasses then secured it between the ends of the tongs. “Operation Blackout is over and we’re going to discuss how you’re going to make this up to me. Prepare to grovel and open your pocketbooks because it’s going to hurt,” he promised and thanked Marston for starting the blowtorch. “You truly thought you could outsmart me,” he said with real disbelief as he touched the blue flame to the drive and it immediately began to bubble and drip. Cyril let it go until it slipped from the tongs in a flaming blob and Ivanof followed it as it landed on the marble. “You’re going to pay for all the damage and I’m going to make your careers hell.” He raised his hand to end the call but Farris rushed across the platform and waved at Ivanof.
“Just for the record,” he said as he pointed over his shoulder at the bodies by the double doors. “They were shooting at me when they came in and I was only trying to defend myself. I swear, I don’t know how that one guy died because all I had were some wet rags and a medieval battle-ax,” he explained quickly. Cyril made a dismissive gesture as he put his arm around Farris and hushed him.
“It’s fine.”
“No... I don’t need another murder accusation on my...” Farris started but Cyril gave him a firm squeeze.
“I promise you, the Justice Department is going to take care of that. I’ll see it done myself, as your personal attorney,” he said and gave Ivanof’s glasses his most threatening smile. “I think that’s all for now. You have five minutes to get your men—alive and dead—off my property or I’m going to the media with footage and a story about how the US Government ran a covert operation against an American citizen and attacked him in his home, on US soil without any justification other than to cover an international blunder,” Cyril threatened then smiled. “Good evening and good luck,” he said then tapped his temple so Ivanof knew to end the broadcast.
“We’re clear,” Ivanof declared and everyone exhaled in relief and laughed as they high-fived and clapped.
“I can’t believe it’s over,” Marston said as he surveyed the damage then winced at Cyril. “Let’s give everyone the good news, I guess.” It took just a few moments for the power to come on and the back doors were briefly opened to allow for body removal. Alon arranged for golf carts and everyone was reunited in the foyer.
“I don’t care what it costs, I want all of this cleaned up by morning and I want all the damage repaired and the tree back up by Christmas Eve,” Cyril told Alon.
“Of course, sir.” He bowed before he ran off to make calls. Cyril tamped down the swell of panic as he beheld the chaos and destruction around him.
“It’s going to be ok. We’re all safe and Alon will have everything fixed in no time,” Farris whispered in Cyril’s ear and gave his hand a tug. Cyril snapped out of it and nodded.
“I know. You’re alright and that’s all that matters,” he said and raised Farris’s hand to his lips so he could kiss it.
“I hear you held your own in the vault,” Lavender said to Farris as he joined them. Cyril was once again overcome and absurdly proud. His hand went to the lump in his pocket and he was so tempted but remembered why he had to wait.
“He did,” Cyril said warmly as he hugged Farris’s hand against his chest. “I can say without a shadow of a doubt, hiring him is the best decision I’ve ever made.”
“Now, now...” Lavender said and held up a finger. “You can’t say he’s the best hiring decision. Not when you have me. And Alon,” he added but his eyes twinkled as they touched Cyril’s.
“I suggest we see if we can pull ourselves together and assemble for one final dinner,” Cyril said loudly as he checked to see if everyone was present and in presentable condition. Bradley, Gabriel, Sharp, West and Walsh were scattered on the stairs and offered exhausted grunts and waves. Martinez and Ivanof were laughing with Grim and Hawkesworth as Sloan questioned Marston but they all paused and nodded in agreement. Cyril checked his watch and hissed as he calculated how long it would take to clear the kitchen an
d dining room of debris and make them serviceable. “Dinner may be delayed but we could use an extra hour or two of rest,” he mused.
“Alon said there wasn’t much damage to the bedrooms. Specifically ours,” Farris murmured in Cyril’s ear. A smile spread across Cyril’s lips as he reconsidered.
“Change of plans, gentlemen. Dinner will be served in your rooms. Why put the staff through the unnecessary trouble?” He declared and gestured for everyone to retire for the evening.
“Oh, thank God,” Sharp said as he pulled himself to his feet so he could trudge up the stairs. There were several mumbles of assent and Cyril and Farris had the foyer to themselves a few moments later.
“Good call,” Farris said and Cyril nodded as he turned him.
“We’ve been through enough and it’ll all be over and they’ll be on their way back to Lake Cliff in the morning,” he sighed and it was heaven as he wrapped his arms around Farris and pulled him close. “And we can put this nightmare behind us and start afresh without this mystery hanging over us.”
“I’m so glad,” Farris said and looked around before he stole a quick kiss. “Why don’t we start with a bath, first?” He suggested and laughed as Cyril practically chased him up the stairs.
“A bath, first,” Cyril said when he caught Farris and danced him across the gallery and into the master suite. “And then I’m going to show you just how grateful and impressed I am with you for protecting our vault.”
Chapter 27
The next morning dawned clear and bright and Lavender couldn’t help but whistle as he escorted Sage down the stairs one last time. Their bags were on their way down and would be loaded into limos while they ate breakfast and said their goodbyes. The house was in tatters but contractors and designers rushed around, silently repairing and putting everything in its place. Cyril was in the dining room and seated at the head of the table, sipping his coffee. He was listening intently as Paul explained something and Lavender was pleasantly surprised. The two seemed to have come to a truce and Cyril was relaxed and engaged. Reginald truly is a wonder if he can get those two to see eye-to-eye on anything, he thought.