“I don’t intend it to be.” Nash mentally readied himself for what was to come.
“Neither do I,” Paul replied with surprising resoluteness. “This is my fight.”
“What does that—”
Nash didn’t see the blow coming. For an office manager, Paul could land a decent punch. The pain in the back of Nash’s skull flashed through the rest of his body in an instant. Years of painful experience had showed Nash he could take a blow, but the crack on the back of his head sent him crashing to the ground, his vision blurring around the edges. The last thing he saw before everything went black was Paul striding towards the abbey’s doors.
Chapter Sixteen
When Nash came to he had no idea how much time had passed. Seconds? Hours?
Using every ounce of strength he could muster, he pushed himself onto all fours. The exertion felt like climbing a mountain. Vision blurring, he used the shotgun as a crutch to propel himself upright and staggered unsteadily towards the abbey.
Touching his right ear, he realised his earpiece had been dislodged when Paul knocked him out. He repositioned it and switched to the alternate frequency.
“You there? It’s Nash.”
“Nash!” Eva replied. “What happened? You’ve been off air for two minutes, we were getting worried.”
That answered the time question. He quickly brought the others up to speed. “Sitrep?”
“He’s gone,” Sophia said flatly.
“Who’s gone?”
“Pinchot.” Hawk’s tone was as brusque as Sophia’s. “He baited us. Enticed us to run to the centre of town and when we were close, he took off in his sports car. No idea where he is now.”
That complicated matters, but he couldn’t focus on Pinchot right now. He needed to get inside and rescue his friends. Before what would likely be his final act, he had to get the others to coordinate their efforts so they could finish this if he couldn’t.
“We need to find Pinchot.” Nash eyed the abbey, scanning for any movement.
“No need,” said a voice behind Nash, “I’m right here.”
Nash spun around. In the half-light, Pinchot’s grotesque scarred face beamed behind the business end of a Negev NG-7 that was pointed directly at Nash’s heart.
His eyes were wilder than Nash had ever seen them, and that was saying a lot. Pinchot was hopped up on something, perhaps everything.
“Drop the shotgun,” he growled.
“Sure thing, Pinchot.”
The name drop was for his compatriots down the hill in the centre of the village.
“He in there?” Pinchot asked, jerking his head towards the abbey.
“Yes, but don’t go in, my people are in there. I don’t know what the situation is.”
“Then you’re not a very good spy, are you?”
“There have been complications.”
“Life’s like that, isn’t it?” Pinchot’s manic wide mouth made him look more like an animated villain than a human being.
“Nash, can you stall him until we get there?” Eva’s voice was strained, she was running.
Looking into Pinchot’s manic dilated pupils, Nash replied, “I highly doubt it.”
Stepping forward, Pinchot took Nash’s shotgun and the two pistols in his holsters. He then yanked out his earpiece, pulling the wire out completely. Nash was cut off, with only a madman for company.
“Let’s go pay Pops a visit, shall we?”
“I can handle this, Jack. They’re my people in there and I need to—”
“Enough of your goody two shoes bullshit!” Pinchot screamed. “This ends here and it ends now.”
Manhandling Nash towards the entrance, Pinchot kept his enemy in front of him at all times. When they reached the entrance, he thumped the huge double doors with the butt of the shotgun. As the echoes reverberated inside, Nash watched the American’s hands. They were shaking. He was barely holding himself together.
“Cavendish!” Pinchot shouted to the heavens. “It’s your protégé coming back to the fold. I just want to talk. You owe me that much, old man!”
Quietly, Nash said, “If you’re trying to appeal to Cavendish’s better nature I have bad news for you.”
Ignoring him, Pinchot screamed, “Come out here you evil cunt. I’ve got a score to settle.”
Nash didn’t expect a reply, and wasn’t surprised when one wasn’t forthcoming. “I don’t think that’s going to entice him out if I’m being completely honest.”
Faint footsteps echoed from the interior of the abbey, followed by clanks and sliding metal bolts. The main door creaked open a crack to reveal a silver-haired mercenary.
A burly voice from inside said, “Drop your weapons and you can come inside.”
