The Grayson Trilogy

by Georgia Rose

  Trent checked outside: everything was clear. He made a call, said, “We’re coming out,” and turned to me. “Ready?”

  My throat was dry with fear and I swallowed with difficulty, my voice hoarse when I replied, “Yes.”

  “Come on, then,” and taking my hand, he opened the door.

  Chapter 11

  Although my mind was set on the determined course of getting back to our baby as quickly as possible, my body was letting me down, being less able to do what I needed than I would have liked. All the strength had been sucked out of me, and as I struggled to put one foot in front of the other, overexerted muscles quivered. Going down the steps was the worst part and I used the railing to steady me, anxiously glancing around at the trees that surrounded us, keen to get out of this exposed area. Trent was equally eager to move on, and the minute I reached the bottom step he picked me up and carried me swiftly into the trees. His strength astounded me as he appeared to have no problem in doing this, and I was relieved he was able to.

  The rain that had come since we’d arrived at the tree house had stopped but the temperature had dropped. Dank air enveloped us as soon as we stepped outside. As we reached cover, Turner fell into line with us on our right and Greene on our left. Both wore dark khaki fatigues, carried automatic type weapons and moved swiftly with us deeper into the woods. As we reached an area more thickly planted with trees we stopped and Trent put me down. I shivered, feeling the damp hanging in the air as droplets of water fell from the canopy above.

  Trent steadied his breathing as he conferred with the other two on the latest intel. I listened as they discussed that we were going to stick to the cover of the woods, travelling away from the direction of the stables and round the estate to the back of the Manor. By that time it would be dark, or we would wait until it was dark – a wait I didn’t like the sound of – before making the crossing over the open parkland to safety.

  Then in a low voice Greene reported that Orlov’s group had circled around those who had guarded us while I was giving birth. They were now somewhere on the route we were discussing taking to the Manor. That made no sense to me at all.

  “Why don’t we go the other way then? Towards the stables,” I questioned, “rather than risk running into them?”

  Trent placed his hands on my upper arms as if to hold me in place and laid it on the line.

  “We’re not going straight to the Manor. We have a job to do first. We have to find Anatoly and Orlov and deal with them.” He spoke quickly, not allowing me to interrupt. “You brought them here, Em. You put yourself up as bait and now you have to see it through.” It was blunt, to the point and, to be honest, took me by surprise, but it was needed. I’d been so focused on getting back to Baby I hadn’t thought about what this situation meant for the rest of the estate.

  “You mean…” I didn’t even want to finish the question.

  “I’m sorry. I know you want to get back to her, and we will, but first we’re going hunting,” Trent finished firmly.

  “But why haven’t they been dealt with by the others?” I waved my arm feebly in the direction of the surrounding trees, thinking our guards must be out there somewhere.

  “Because they have collateral, and we need to at least try and get everyone out of this in one piece.” I didn’t understand what he meant, but it sounded like a final statement on the subject. I could feel it in his body language; mentally he was moving on, getting ready for the next challenge and I needed to as well. I shivered again and wrapped my arms around my body, holding myself together.

  Trent checked in with each of us in turn, making sure our heads were in the right place for what might come. When he got to me I hoped I managed to look more confident than I felt.

  “They are out there somewhere.” He looked at each of us in the group. “When we come across them you know what to do.” I didn’t know what to do but stayed silent, fearing I would look stupid at my lack of woodland warfare knowledge. Trent filled in the blank anyway. “You follow my lead.”

  Trent quickly called Cavendish, who was with Sharpe watching the cameras. There had been no further updates on the intruders; they had crossed no other cameras, so if they were still here, and there was no reason why they wouldn’t be, then they must be sticking to the woods. Volkov knew about the cameras attached to the Manor, and it was obvious he had informed those coming after me and they were avoiding going near them. I also knew he was aware of the ones that covered the stable yard. When he’d let himself into our cottage a few evenings ago he hadn’t appeared on them – I’d checked with Sharpe, wanting to find out how he’d got in, but when the recordings were replayed there was no sign of him.

  I therefore wondered why they had been spotted at the stable yard today, unless they didn’t care if we knew they were there or not.

  Trent picked me up again and we carried on. Having passed the initial rush of getting under cover, which had been done at as fast a speed as Trent could manage, he now slowed the pace to not much more than a jog, allowing for the terrain we – I use ‘we’ here loosely as I had to do nothing other than be a burden – were having to traverse. The ground was much more uphill and down dale in this part of the woods which, while fabulous fun when exploring it on horseback, was less so when trying to cross it hampered by a large load. For me it was a bumpy ride, something I could hardly complain about, as I had it so much easier than everyone else, plus every step took me closer to her, and that was what I focused on. I couldn’t think about the possibility of confronting our enemies. I consciously tried to hope that we wouldn’t have to, that they’d magically disappeared and we’d progress straight to the Manor, but I knew I was deluding myself. It was a matter of when, not if, and I had no doubt that until we came across them we wouldn’t stop hunting.

  It was difficult to judge how long we’d been going but as every minute passed the tension in our group racked up a notch, each minute bringing us closer to our prey. Although this was a hunt with a difference – there was no sneaking up on them, we wanted them to know we were coming.

  Five minutes.

  We had other cover in place. We’d been surrounded while in the tree house, our protection keeping low, out of sight and spread out. While we travelled the path through the woods, there were others out there at a distance, following and ready. I occasionally caught a glimpse, a shadow and nothing more, between the trees.

  But each of these sightings added to my stress, making me jumpy, my breathing shallow. Who was that? Was that them? Straining my eyes I peered into the trees, all this keeping me on high alert as adrenaline coursed through my body.

  I had my back to Turner only able to hear his footfall, his breathing. I could see Greene though and never having seen her in this light before it was a surprise. Concentrated, serious, ready for action, she carried her weapon across her body and remained watchful as we moved through the woods.

  It was gloomy now, damp and earthy. I could smell, almost taste, the loamy soil. The canopy blocked out much of the light, though I suspected the sun was obscured by clouds and darkness was coming. In the cool evening tendrils of mist reached out along the bottom of the valleys in the uneven ground. I wished we were travelling more quietly, but my companions were making no efforts to disguise our progress through the woods. Announcing our approach we hunted those hunting us – drawing them out.

  Ten minutes.

  We dropped down a steep incline; I heard twigs snapping underfoot as dislodged soil skittered down the slope with us. I felt Trent stumble slightly then regain his balance as one foot caught in the thick vegetation. Once down the hill, we veered slightly right and followed the bottom of the dip, now thinly veiled with creeping mist, as we aimed to go around the next incline rather than straight up it. But as we rounded the corner, we stopped.

  Abruptly.

  Orlov stood in the way. Volkov in front of him, held there with a knife to his throat. My stomach dropped – apparently he was not as willing a participant as I’d thought.
No pain showed on my father’s face; no fear, worryingly, only calm resignation.

  A softly muttered curse under Trent’s breath was the only outward sign that he was in any way surprised.

  He lowered me to the ground gently and I ignored the rush of blood, the light-headed feeling, as he moved to my side and slightly in front. I didn’t take my eyes off my father. His features softened, a half smile coming to his lips, which seemed incongruous given his situation.

  “Emma,” he said. His hoarse voice cut off before he had a chance to say anything further by Orlov roughly pulling him up, the knife digging in, blood beading along the steel. I was shocked to see him this vulnerable.

  “Good to see you again, Emma,” Orlov inclined his head, “Trent.” Three other men were with them, all armed. Ugly was the only other one I recognised from the night of ‘the incident’, but from Turner’s sharp intake of breath to my right, I guessed Anatoly stood alongside Orlov.

  “Orlov, Anatoly.” Trent’s only acknowledgement.

  “Drop your weapons,” came from Anatoly, his voice deep and rasping, his accent running through the words like hard liquor had roughened the edges. He was shorter than Orlov, broader across the shoulders, and everything about him was dark: his hair, his eyes, his pockmarked and scarred face.

  Turner bridled next to me. I felt him tense as if ready to spring and he made to take a step forward, the briefest of movements, and all attention snapped to him. Guns rose as tension as taut as a piano wire sprang between our group and theirs. Trent’s arm came up across me, his hand outstretched, his fingers splayed, halting Turner immediately.

  “Do as he says,” was Trent’s command as he withdrew his own handgun and threw it to the side where it landed with a thud in the leaf litter. I could feel Turner’s frustration as he and Greene dropped their weapons.

  Anatoly grinned as he looked at my neighbour. “Well now, look at you, Turner, all grown up and growling back at me.” And he laughed briefly as I felt Turner bristling with fury, no doubt every humiliation he had suffered at the hands of the man coming back to taunt him.

  “Steady,” growled Trent, his voice low for Turner’s benefit, but I could tell Turner was struggling. I remembered the time in the gym, the red mist descending as he attacked me, and now I brought my hand up and placed it on his forearm. It broke his concentration for only a split second, but long enough for him to gather himself again. The once-broken boy grew in stature, his attitude, his control giving me strength.

  Orlov smiled his dead-eyed smile, his scar puckering his lip. He muttered something over his shoulder which made Ugly step into position behind Volkov. It appeared his hands were tied behind him, his shoulders pulled uncomfortably back. Orlov removed his knife, sliding it into his belt before pulling out a handgun from the back of his trousers and taking a step in our direction. The men behind him were on high alert, keeping us in their sights, darting glances out into the woods, knowing there were others as they kept cover over Orlov. I wondered if anyone would take the shot while he was open, but calculated no one would. The only result would be us all dying, and quickly.

  My thoughts flitted briefly to Baby. I hoped by now she was safely at the Manor and pushed thoughts of her growing up without us out of my mind.

  “You know you can’t protect her now, Trent,” Orlov goaded. “It’s over.”

  His eyes never left mine as he crossed the space between us then raised his gun. As he reached us he pressed it casually against Trent’s forehead. It had started raining again, fat drops falling all around. I could hear them pattering off the leaves above. I glanced up at the cold steel which chilled me to the bone more than the pervading damp could ever do.

  “You need to get this close in order to be sure of a hit, do you, Orlov?” Trent taunted, which I thought brave, or stupid, given the circumstances.

  “Don’t worry, Trent, when your time comes I shall be sure not to miss.”

  “You’ll never get another chance as good as this, Orlov. I’d take it while you can.” I didn’t know why Trent was baiting him like that but I liked his irreverence and I could see it got to Orlov, a flash of annoyance as he bit back.

  “Too easy, Trent. I want you to suffer and that means making you and Volkov here watch her die first.” Orlov’s gaze had still not left me, my insides liquefying at his words, my knees weakening as he stepped closer to me. Near enough for me to feel his breath on my face. Refusing to show him my fear, not wanting to give him the satisfaction, I glared steely-eyed at him.

  “Such a waste,” he murmured, his voice so low it was meant for me alone. Though Trent heard, I could tell, his body stiffening in response. Bringing his spare hand up to my face Orlov trailed his fingers across my cheek, along my jawline, brushing his thumb across my bottom lip. I saw his pupils dilate as he inhaled and I curbed my desire to bite it. Keeping the gun up against Trent’s head, he moved his hand down my neck onto my chest, my breast. I didn’t react, stifling my desire to flinch away from him as my skin crawled beneath his touch. He proceeded to run his hand slowly down my body. I never lost eye contact with him, so saw his reaction as his hand stilled on my empty belly.

  “You’ve had the baby?” This was news to him, which pleased me. It meant they hadn’t come across Carlton and Baby in the woods.

  “Yes.”

  “Boy or girl?”

  “None of your business.”

  Anger flared. I saw it in his eyes, but I didn’t respond to his reaction.

  “Boy…or…girl?” he repeated slowly as if I hadn’t understood the question first time around. He adjusted the gun against Trent’s head, which disturbed me.

  “Girl,” I muttered, despising the weakness in my voice.

  “Congratulations, you must be very happy.” He smirked and I didn’t trust his crocodile smile, then leaned in closer, almost conspiratorially as he continued, “And where is your little girl?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t know.” My voice barely more than a whisper.

  “You don’t know?” Repeated with mock surprise, he then spoke as if we were just fooling around, but I knew he meant business. “Now, Emma, you wouldn’t be hiding her from me, would you?”

  I didn’t reply but stared daggers at him.

  He spoke louder now, talking back to Anatoly. “We have another challenge before us, Anatoly, another daughter to find.” Then back to me. “And imagine what fun we’ll have with her when we find her.” From the corner of my eye I saw Trent’s jaw clench, the only outward sign of the anger I knew boiled inside.

  Though nothing matched the fierce rage that now surged through my body – our baby had been threatened and the protection of our daughter was now all that mattered.

  “You will never have the chance to lay a finger on her, we will see to that,” I spat out though gritted teeth. His eyebrows rose in surprise at my threat which had been uttered at a time when we were hardly in a position to carry it out. I could see he thought he had the upper hand and I had to agree with him, things did not look good for us. But I had every faith and felt strong, my anger making me so, and we stood together.

  “Really, Emma? We’ll see.” He was so full of himself, so confident, and I wavered, something jagged in my throat. “I wonder if she will be as beautiful as her mother.” Orlov spoke softly, bringing his hand up again and stroking the backs of his fingers down my cheek; as he did so his voice filled with such longing he almost had me believing for a moment he was going to relent, but then he chuckled softly and took a step back. Obviously feigning sorrow, he said, “It’s a shame, isn’t it? Another little girl is going to grow up an orphan.”

  Though shaking with fury at the threats made against Baby I still felt tears pricking at the backs of my eyes and I swallowed, wanting to wash them away and not let Orlov see my distress. I didn’t know what Trent had planned, or how this was going to work out, but the odds did not look good for us. Again I hoped Carlton had got our baby safely up to the Manor and that she was being well looked after.
I couldn’t allow myself to think about never seeing her again.

  My thoughts turned again to the others watching us, surrounding us. Would they attack? Was that the plan? Realistically, probably not with Volkov being held where he was and with us so close. The collateral damage would be too high a price.

  Orlov dropped his gun away from Trent’s head and started to walk back to the others. His cocky arrogance showed in the way he was willing to turn his back on us, as if we posed no threat to him, and I feared what was going to happen next.

  Ugly relinquished his position behind Volkov and I watched as Orlov took his knife back out, only this time he held it against Volkov’s back as he wrapped his arm across his upper chest so there was no chance he could make a run for it. Volkov’s face strained, and I suspected he could already feel the pressure of the blade.

  We were in a standoff. The tension crackled around me, and unarmed I could see no way out. Unable to believe they would kill me in cold blood, my heart was racing, pounding in my chest. My limbs weakening as my heartbeat increased.

  Staccato images played, black and white recollections, muddled snapshots of my life; horses, Alex, Eva, Susie, Trent, Carlton, Greene, Sophia, Reuben; Trent rushed through my mind again then more of Eva…as a baby, Eva…growing up, Eva…smiling, turning away from me.

  Turning away from me?

  Ephemeral and fleeting, Eva’s smile haunting as she turned to go…leaving me? I’d prayed for death so often since she had been taken, my life no longer of consequence until now, until this moment, until just when it appeared my prayers were about to be answered. This pivotal point when I now had everything to live for and yet, reliant on the plans of others, had no idea how I was to survive this and get back to Baby.

  The pressure increased in my head; a roaring silence in my ears distanced me from the inevitable. I didn’t know who would blink first, and despite my wish to appear strong I started to tremble. I was to be the first to die, and if that was going to happen, now was the time…