down into the mansion’s bowels. His new companion could have his uses, even if only as a human shield. He turned the knife in his hand.
Maximov led the way along a white-painted passage, his elbows brushing both walls, and stopped at a door. ‘When did you meet Suarez?’ he asked as he opened it.
‘Year or so back, at some United Nations thing,’ Eddie said, taking in the room. Three small cells had been installed, metal bars reaching from floor to ceiling – and each was occupied. Suarez in the middle, Kit to one side . . . and Nina lying on the floor at the other.
There was also a guard, who stood and gave the two men a suspicious look. ‘Why are you here?’ he asked.
‘To talk to him,’ said Maximov, pointing at Suarez. Then he saw Nina and reacted in surprise. ‘Hey! It’s you!’ She in turn jumped up in astonishment.
The soldier saw her unexpected reaction. ‘What are—’
Eddie stepped behind him and with a quick, deadly motion drove the knife deep into the base of his skull.
The Venezuelan collapsed instantly, the hilt buried in his neck. Eddie grabbed the soldier’s AK-103 off his shoulder as he fell and pointed it at Maximov. ‘Okay, drop your gun. And the grenade.’
‘Little man!’ said Maximov, sounding shocked and even hurt by the sudden betrayal. ‘What are you doing?’
‘Rescuing my wife.’ He nodded towards Nina, then Kit. ‘And my friend.’
Suarez pushed his face against the bars. ‘Y a mi?’ he asked hopefully.
‘Nope, sorry, mate,’ said Eddie as Maximov reluctantly dropped his weapons to the floor.
‘Oh.’ Now it was the President’s turn to look offended.
‘Eddie, we have to rescue him,’ Nina insisted. ‘And by the way: Eddie! Oh my God!’ She broke into a huge smile. ‘I – I thought you were dead! How did you find us?’
‘Long story, and it’ll have to wait.’ He nudged the soldier’s twitching body, jingling his keys. ‘Okay, Max – let them out.’
Scowling, Maximov took the keys and unlocked Nina’s cell. She rushed out to embrace her husband, but he waved her back. ‘Get the gun,’ he told her. ‘Can’t have post-rescue sex until we’re actually post-rescue.’
‘I wasn’t planning on dropping my pants right here in the cells,’ she said as she picked up the pistol. Maximov opened the other cells, eyeing a fire alarm on one wall, but a wave of Eddie’s gun discouraged him from activating it. ‘What about the others? Is Macy okay?’
‘Macy’s fine – she’s waiting for us with Mac.’
‘What? Mac’s here too?’
‘Yeah. I called for some help. Left Osterhagen and Becker at a hospital down south – hopefully Callas’s lot didn’t find them. Oscar’s dead, though. So’s Loretta.’
The news muted Nina’s joy at being released. Kit collected the stun grenade. ‘Eddie, what’s happening outside? If they’ve kidnapped the President, I assume things are not good.’
‘We’ve got a full-blown military coup under way,’ Eddie told him, gesturing with the AK for Maximov to enter a cell. He slammed the door behind the furious Russian and locked it, then turned to Suarez. ‘Okay, Mr Presidente – looks like you’re coming with us, so where’s the best place for us to head for?’
Suarez stared at him in incomprehension. ‘Qué?’
Eddie looked to the ceiling in dismay. ‘Oh, fucking great. He’s from Barcelona!’
‘It’s your accent,’ Nina said testily. ‘I don’t think he’s spoken to many Yorkshiremen.’ She faced the Venezuelan, talking slowly and clearly. ‘Mr President, do you speak English?’
‘I speak, ah, ah . . .’ He held his thumb and forefinger a short distance apart. ‘A little, sí?’
‘Okay, we’re going to get you out of here – where should we go?’
He nodded at the door. ‘We go, yes, go!’
‘No, go where?’
‘Qué dijiste?’
‘I said – ugh! Dammit, we need Macy.’
‘Let’s go and meet her, then,’ said Eddie. ‘Nina, give Kit the gun – you take that stun grenade, we might need it on the way out. Once we reach the car, Macy can ask el Prez here where to go. If we can meet the militia, he might be able to drum up some support against Callas.’ He started for the door.
Nina tugged his sleeve. ‘Eddie, wait – we need to get something first.’
He halted and pursed his lips. ‘You’re going to say we need to pick up those fucking statues, aren’t you?’
‘Well, ah, yeah . . . but they’re not the main thing!’ she hastily clarified. ‘Callas and Stikes met with a guy called de Quesada—’
‘De Quesada?’ echoed Suarez with distaste, clearly familiar with the name.