CHAPTER TEN

 

 

HE WATCHED HER from his window, from his room—where he was still being ‘held captive.’

Clive Jr peeped out, just as he had done the night she arrived. When he’d climbed out through that same window, climbed down the side of the house, and had that very interesting conversation with the man in the robes.

The man with the skull for a face.

He had indeed held the answers to so many of Clive’s questions, and so many more the boy hadn’t even thought of. But that was just the start, the man had promised him. There was so much more to discuss.

It was after the conversation had ended and he’d climbed back up to his room that she’d arrived. He could see the gate of New Hope from his bedroom, the only way through their walls—walls that his mother had put up to keep out invaders (a little late for his father... no, not his father... that still took some getting used to). Saw the commotion as people gathered and Tate had been called for. The gate had opened, and a visitor welcomed inside.

She was beautiful, that girl. Older than him, much older, but that didn’t bother Clive. The girls his own age were immature, and some of them incredibly mean. This one, in the yellow dress, the girl with the freckles, was something else.

He’d learned later on that her name was Sophie, that she’d been cast out from the castle at Nottingham and sought refuge—sanctuary—here. An outcast, an outsider. Just like he was, at heart. Nobody would tell him why she’d been thrown out, but that didn’t matter. They’d rejected her, and he felt sure that she’d feel the same as he did: cheated.

As Clive watched her now in the town, pumping water into a bucket, wearing a shirt and trousers but looking no less appealing—bending over first one way, then turning and bending the other—he felt feelings he’d never really experienced before. A longing, a burning inside him.

The man with a skull for a face had promised him he could have everything he’d ever wanted, could have the world. So maybe that included a queen to share it with? It would be a very lonely existence without someone by his side.

Yes, that’s definitely what he wanted. As well as the rest... He’d return this girl to the castle, if that’s what she wanted. She’d sit by his side, and they’d rule together.

But first there was something he had to do, the man had said. And Clive had agreed, even felt kind of okay about doing it.

First, the man had said to him, first he must get rid of his adoptive parents.

Kill them, and then in time...

Kill the Reverend Tate.

 

 

Somewhere near Lake Geneva

 

HE HAD WELCOMED her back with open arms.

And why wouldn’t he? She was his lover, after all. That was something Virgil hadn’t known, or maybe he had and just didn’t care. Well, the fool cared now. After trying it on when she stayed over at his country retreat, she’d given him something to think about. A few bruises, a split lip and a kick in the balls, to be precise.

Though that was nothing compared to what Mark had done to Chillcott, Virgil’s man on the inside. He was still undergoing treatment, as far as she knew, the head Ranger having all but killed the man. Still, nothing he wouldn’t have done for the cause anyway, for the charismatic Virgil—though his ‘charms’ had been wasted on her. Talk about an ego! But he was useful, a tool. A pawn in their game.

“Uschi,” Schaefer’d said, planting a hard kiss on her lips. Now this man, her man, he had power. Real power. Schaefer, the head of the Neo-Nazis in charge of the German armed forces, driven underground—in more ways than one. But, instead of dwindling as many might have imagined, they’d flourished in hiding, and were stronger than ever. Had their fingers in more pies even than before. And they’d spread out into other countries, like this one: Switzerland. It was the base of operations for someone they had been keen to work with, a doctor who was not averse to testing his home-grown concoctions on human test-subjects. His labs were down here, in this system of tunnels they had taken over for their own purposes. A very secret set of tunnels that also housed one of their most prized acquisitions. “It’s good to see you,” Schaefer told her in even tones, breaking off the embrace.

“You also!” Uschi replied, with just a little too much fervour. She couldn’t help it. Because of her mission—the one he’d give her personally—she hadn’t seen him in several days. And she knew what that meant, where he’d take her once the formalities of the report were over and done with. What they’d do when they got there.

“All went well I trust?”

She nodded curtly. “Operation Flaming Arrow was a total success, on both fronts: Hood’s inner circle has been destabilised, and support has been raised for Virgil’s group. In fact, it worked better than we ever could have hoped.” Right from the start, with Chillcott infiltrating the Rangers, they’d had the upper hand. It hadn’t taken much effort to seduce Hood’s daughter-in-law, making it a simple case of co-ordinating when they struck: both the market town and at the castle. It was a risk, certainly, but from what they’d gleaned about Mark and his jealous behaviour, they could pretty much predict he’d not be thinking clearly. Even the tour to get Hood out of the way had been their idea, planted by people they had on the inside. They knew that with their figurehead elsewhere, Mark would be left to hold the fort. It had only taken a nudge to get the young man to fall to pieces. “More successful, it would seem, than the good Doctor’s pets and our other... associates.” She said the word like it was venom she’d just sucked from a snakebite and was trying to spit out. The Morningstars were no friends of hers. But, again, they were useful at the moment. More pawns.

“On the contrary, I think it proved without a shadow of a doubt that those... pets, as you call them, are more than combat ready. Proved it to that fucking cult, at any rate.”

“But Hood destroyed them, didn’t he?”

Schaefer waved a hand. “Casualties of war. There are more, as you well know, where they came from.”

“A shame they did not take out Hood first, though,” Uschi commented. “Why was that again? How were there any survivors left?”

“My sweet, you know the answer to that question as well as I do.”

She did, though she didn’t agree with it. Schaefer had his own particular axe to grind with Hood, wanted to make him suffer rather than just putting him down like the dog he was. It was a long-term plan that could backfire on them spectacularly, if he wasn’t careful. Not that she would ever say this to his face. He would probably have her executed.

So, having reported back, she waited as Schaefer dismissed the armed men surrounding them. Then the pair walked together down the long, man-made tunnels. Uschi was trembling with anticipation, both anxious to reach the place and wanting to stave off the moment so she could relish the excitement.

She remembered the first time Schaefer had taken her there, not that long into their relationship. Had he known how much of an aphrodisiac it would be to her, that thing? Maybe, maybe not. But he was certainly aware of it now.

As they rounded the final corner, making their way along the circular platform encircling it—high up, almost at its nose—their metallic footsteps echoing throughout this cavernous space, she couldn’t help smirking.

Uschi rushed to the rail, gripping it with both hands. Taking in the sight of the massive pointed cone in front of her, she let out a gasp. Another moan came, though, when she felt Schaefer behind her, hands reaching around to undo her camouflage jacket; then her belt; then the buttons of her cargos, which fell to the ground.

That was power. She was looking at it right now. Just the threat of it, let alone its use. The ultimate flaming arrow! She shivered with delight, which urged Schaefer on.

And, as he took her by those rails, she continued to stare at the huge rocket in front of her, knowing its potential.

Thinking about what would happen if—when—it was launched.