The Sugared Game - K.J. Charles Page 0,58

wouldn’t do that if you simply wanted to get to the office on the lower balcony. You’d do it if you had a gun, because a man with a gun half-way along the upper balcony would have a perfect line of sight on the office window. It was a fair distance for a shot, though: Mrs. Skyrme’s little discarded pop-gun wouldn’t be enough. He wondered what Fuller had.

Will went up the stairs as slowly as he dared, telling himself that Fuller couldn’t see Kim’s face and wouldn’t recognise him from his back, not from this distance. Surely he wouldn’t shoot without knowing what was going on. Unless Mrs. Skyrme had had some sort of bell-press installed that Will had missed...

Don’t turn round, Kim. Don’t move. Please.

He crawled onto the upper balcony, keeping low, peering through the legs of tables and chairs. The man was indeed Desmond Fuller, and Will recognised the shape of the weapon he held, the long, narrow barrel. A Webley service revolver. It was a good practical gun with plenty of accuracy over the distance, even better if Fuller went further along the upper balcony to get an angle on Kim that didn’t risk Mrs. Skyrme. Which was what he was doing right now.

Will had strong views on bringing a knife to a gun fight, but needs must. He pulled the Messer and made his way forward.

Fuller didn’t notice him. He was probably groggy from sleep, and focused on the office. Will kept going, moving softly and steadily, keeping in a low crouch. He’d done this closer to upright in the German trenches, which was easier on the thighs, but at least there wasn’t any mud here.

Fuller made a little exhalation and raised his gun arm. Will tensed to leap, and just stopped himself as the arm kept rising and the man fired into the ceiling. The noise was shockingly loud. Fuller swung the gun down again, aimed towards the office and Kim, and roared, “Hands up! Hands up or I shoot!”

Will risked a glance at the office. He saw Kim’s hands go up, and Mrs. Skyrme rise from her desk, raising her arm to point towards Will, and he went for Fuller as hard and fast as he could.

The man whipped round, too quick. Will grabbed at his gun hand, forcing it up, but Fuller had got hold of his knife wrist at the same time and was pushing it down. They struggled savagely, locked together, moving no more than inches back and forth with neither able to let go.

Will was pretty strong, but Fuller was bigger, and he could feel the pressure on both arms. If the trial of strength lasted minutes rather than seconds, bulk would win. Will shifted his weight, let Fuller come forward, and went for a knee in the balls. He made glancing contact only, and regretted the miss as Fuller gave a bellow of rage and pushed back so hard their grips broke. Will stumbled, tripped over a chair, and fell backward, the edge of a marble-topped table brushing through his hair as he went down.

The next second or so lasted an eternity. The gun barrel swung towards him, Fuller’s finger tightening on the trigger; Will dropped the Messer, all but flinging it away in his haste, and pulled the heavy table above him sharply forward. There was an explosion far too close, and a bullet cracked into the tabletop, almost jarring it from his grip.

The fucker was trying to kill him.

Will scrambled to his feet in pure desperation as Fuller fired again. He lifted his impromptu shield and charged at the enemy, using the table as a battering ram. Fuller tried to dodge, but the heavy marble caught him square on. He span sideways and hit the banister rail hard.

That put him on the ropes, and Will didn’t intend to let up. He barged the table into Fuller again with all his weight, and once more, needing him to lose his gun or his breath, but the surge of panic that had let him lift the table as if it were plywood was already dropping, and the sodding marble was too sodding heavy. Will made a last effort and half threw, half dropped the thing just as Fuller staggered forward. It landed edge down, right on the bastard’s foot.

Fuller gave a howl of pain and fell backwards. There was a splintering crunch that sounded loud even through Will’s still-ringing ears. Fuller’s eyes widened, and the whole section of banister