“If you say so,” Dillon replied. “I wasn’t going anywhere in Washington, but here I am.” He rolled another stun grenade along the corridor and jumped back.
Levy had already opened the door of the last room in the corridor and shouted, “Inside!” to Aaron and Moshe. They made the shelter of the room, and as he slammed the door the stun grenade exploded on the landing.
Levy opened the door. “Not too good, old buddy. Like I said, you aren’t going anywhere. Hey, when you get time you’ve got to tell me about Washington. That must have been real slick.”
He fired several bursts from his M16, clipping the wall by the broken door of what had been Hannah’s room. Dillon poked the Uzi out one-handed, sprayed along the corridor one way and then the other.
He turned to Blake, who said, “Now what do we do?”
Dillon put down his Uzi and pulled the coil of rope over his head. “A good job I brought this along, it’s our one chance. Everybody get in the bathroom.” Marie de Brissac looked dazed and Dillon said, “Move it, for God’s sake. Hannah, we’re running out of time.”
Hannah urged Marie before her into the bathroom. Blake followed. Dillon fired another burst from his Uzi into the corridor, then put it down again, took a quarter block of Semtex from one of his pouches, jammed it on the windowsill against the bars, and rammed in a two-second pencil timer.
He ran and flung himself flat on his face on the floor beside the bed. The sound of the explosion seemed to make the room sway, and when he looked up through drifting smoke the window, the bars, and some of the surrounding stonework had disappeared, leaving a jagged hole.
Dillon ran to peer out and Blake joined him, the two women at his shoulder. “Forty feet down to the terrace,” Dillon said. “You lower the countess and Hannah one by one, then tie one end to the bed and go down yourself. I’ll hold the fort and follow when I can.”
Blake didn’t hesitate, simply uncoiled the rope and tied a large loop in the end. As Dillon picked up his Uzi and reloaded, Hannah grabbed his arm.
“Sean, you wouldn’t do anything stupid like going down with the ship or something?”
He grinned. “Hey, genuine concern, and at this stage of our relationship?”
“Damn you!” she said.
“Already taken care of.” He ran to the door, poked the Uzi out again, and fired toward Braun and Raphael, who fired back instantly.
On the Cretan Lover, they saw the explosion blossom in the night up there in the castle, and a second or so later, there was the hollow boom as it echoed across the water.
“What in the hell is happening?” Ferguson said as he stood at the rail wearing the third flak jacket, a Browning in one hand.
“Whatever it is, I’m going to be ready,” Aleko said. “We’ll move in close, a hundred yards from the jetty. Dump the nets, just cut them loose, and everyone make sure they’re armed.”
He went into the wheelhouse and took over from Stavros. A moment later, the engines rumbled into life, and as the nets slipped away the Cretan Lover moved toward the jetty.
• • •
Hannah went first, finding it surprisingly easy with the loop under her shoulder and the rough stone walls of the castle providing good footholds. She reached the terrace, pulled the loop over her head, tugged, and Blake pulled it up.
He turned to Marie de Brissac. “How about it? You’ll be safe in my hands, I promise you. Just don’t look down.”
“And we haven’t even been introduced.”
“Johnson—Blake Johnson. I’m your father’s special security man.”
“Well, it’s nice to know you, Mr. Johnson, but I’ve no problem with heights. The general climbed in the Swiss Alps every year. I was ten when he first took me with him.” She pulled the loop over her head. “Thank you, Mr. Dillon. I thought you looked like the sort of man who always comes back for the girl.”
“In the last chapter only, Countess, and this isn’t the last chapter. On your way,” and Dillon crouched back as a storm of firing erupted in the corridor.