The mercenary leader began counting back slowly from forty-five.
* * *
• • •
In the drawing room on the third floor, Zakharov smiled and interrupted Brewer, who’d been getting nothing out of the ex-general. He said, “I would like to make a polite proposal to you, and to all security officials working in the building.”
Brewer cocked her head. “I’m listening.”
“There is no need for anyone to get hurt. Yes, our original intention involved Dr. Won’s biological weapon, but as you know, the aircraft crashed today, no doubt due to the actions of your commandos. So now we enter our plan B, with ambitions less lofty than before. We only wish to make a series of statements to the world press, and then to leave in peace.”
Brewer’s look of confusion matched her words. “We?”
* * *
• • •
Inside the great hall, the two Russians with the red bands went in separate directions, along the walls, passing servers and bartenders, all of whom were MI5 employees due to the classified nature of the conversations, and they took positions on opposite sides of the huge, dimly lit room. The men themselves were counting down, and at the ten-second mark, they reached into their coats again, this time pulling out two flash bang grenades each. The only six armed men in the room covering four hundred attendees were separated from one another, but only by twenty meters or so, standing along the wall.
The three double doors off the main corridor burst open, the two sleepers tossed their distraction devices in the direction of the six armed guards, and then they turned away.
* * *
• • •
Brewer was confused. “You and who else? What are you talking about?”
Zakharov sat in silence for a moment, then started to speak again. “I am talking about—”
The muffled sounds of explosions and the sudden chatter of gunfire seemed to come from inside the castle and somewhere below the room where Brewer stood.
Zakharov smiled. “I am talking about that. My forces have orders only to return fire to protect themselves. Whatever shooting you hear only happened because your people insisted on violence.”
Zack Hightower drew his pistol, stepped forward to the seated man, and jabbed the barrel into the side of his head. “How ’bout I pop this one right now to get the ball rolling and then go down and deal with the others?”
Brewer put a hand up to stop him; the door to the room burst open and Violator entered, his own pistol in his hand.
Brewer said, “Zakharov knows about this. It’s some sort of attack.”
“Not an attack,” Zakharov protested. “Merely a political statement, although as I said, my men will defend themselves if necessary.”
* * *
• • •
In the banquet hall it was pandemonium. In the initial attack, all six security men were killed, as well as four waiters and three conference attendees from the UK. One Russian mercenary had been shot through the knee; he was now down on the floor applying a tourniquet to his thigh. A second merc took a pistol round in his Kevlar vest, but it did not penetrate.
The Russians who survived the first quick, chaotic gun battle rushed to lock all the doors, and two of them were positioned by the open hallway that gave access to the kitchen, making sure no one came or went via this route.
A number of men and women in formal attire managed to escape through the kitchen before the mercs secured the hall, as well as through the double doors closest to the main entrance to the castle, but only about forty of the nearly four hundred were so lucky. The rest were rounded up and ordered to their seats.
Most of the kitchen staff made it out the back before Russians sealed it off, but a few stayed behind, panic-stricken. These employees were rounded up and brought back into the great hall.
The overhead lights were turned on, and all the 375 or so in the room were ordered to place their hands on the tables or to lie down on the floor. Four armed men climbed onto the stage, their automatic rifles sweeping back and forth over the crowd.
Four of the remaining Russians stepped back into the corridor and took up positions facing the main entrance of the castle.
When a platoon of armed and armored Scottish military came bursting through the front door, fragmentation grenades were hurled at them by the men guarding the corridor, killing three and sending the others back outside to assess the