The women stood ready to protect the next person getting out of the AFV. A figure who, straight away, put on his peaked cap before dropping down. In his long coat and maroon military outfit, it could only be The Tsar himself. Here to oversee the fall of the castle: and The Hooded Man's empire.
If Jack could take him out then -
But he had more pressing issues to deal will. Literally, as Tanek and he clashed weapons, each pushing against the other, neither willing to give ground. Jack's feet slipped a little on the slushy grass, but he dug his heels in, unwilling to let Tanek take an inch.
Although his identical bodyguards were there to protect him, The Tsar was not averse to getting his hands dirty, it seemed. Because Jack saw him take out his own sword: long and curved, Jack had seen its like in movies, but had never seen one being used for real.
The Tsar ran one of the wounded soldiers through, pulling out the blade and admiring the blood dripping from it.
He's just as sadistic as De Falaise… as Tanek, Jack thought, possibly a fighter in the past, but now prefers the sure-fire kill. I might be able to use that, if I can get close enough.
Then The Tsar's attention was drawn to Adele and the men flanking her: Jack's men. With the oriental sisters — twins? — in tow, The Tsar glided forward across the Bailey towards them.
Jack had to finish this right now. Had to get across to Adele before she ended up like Mundy.
That was easier said than done, because Tanek wasn't in the mood for quitting. The olive-skinned man flashed his teeth and gave one last shove, but Jack realised what he was doing and decided to give him that inch he wanted. In fact, he could take the whole Middle Bailey if he liked. Without warning, Jack took the pressure off his staff and stepped aside, causing Tanek to lunge forward, struggling to keep upright. As he passed by, Jack gave him a whack across the shoulder blades to help him on his way. Pitching him almost into the side of the steps.
He wasn't completely out of the game, but it would have to do for now.
Jack sprinted across the field, holding the staff horizontally to take out two more Russian soldiers, each end smacking into a face. He was going to be too late to reach Adele, because the twins were already closing in. And although she had a rifle, he knew that they'd still make mincemeat of her. Wilkes and Ferguson lunged forward, their intention to stop the women, but in reality all they could really do was try not to get themselves killed.
To begin with they did pretty well, holding their own against the two bodyguards, as fast as they were. And Jack was almost there when the first of them bought it: Wilkes receiving a savage slash to the side that bit into him to a depth of about four or five inches. He looked over at Jack, his eyes pleading as blood poured out of the wound.
"You bitches are gonna to pay for that," Jack promised, holding his staff by the end and swinging it so that it caught one of the bodyguards across the forearm. The shock of this bought him enough time to kick her over onto the ground.
Her sister looked across, and paid the price — as Ferguson got close enough to aim a punch at her head. The Tsar, instead of coming to their aid, pulled back slightly, raising his sword in a defensive stance.
The sister closest to Jack was recovering quickly, getting to her feet and taking a swing at him with her sword, then skirting past and making for Adele. "Where do you think you're goin', huh?" shouted Jack, grabbing her hair and yanking her back.
Ferguson had the drop on the second, raising his sword to bring it down on her. But she'd only been feigning weakness from his punch, and lifted her sword up to meet his, before kicking high and knocking him out of the way. Her path to Adele was now clear. Adele held the rifle up, then cast it to the side, attempting to surrender once more.
Jack dragged the first sister back and, jamming his staff under his arm, wrapped his other one around her neck — in a wrestler's chin lock — forcing her to her knees. "Back away from the little lady, sweetheart, or I'll crush your sister's windpipe." He hoped she could tell from the look on his face that he meant business.
The other bodyguard did as he asked, slowly backing away from the defenceless Adele. "T-Thank you, Jack," the woman called over to him. The look of sheer relief on her face was thanks enough. They weren't out of this yet, though. But as he glanced over, he saw Adele take a handgun out of her coat.
Attagirl, thought Jack.
She pointed it at the other oriental woman, covering her. Then a weird expression passed over Adele's face, a sort of calmness… as she pulled the trigger. Jack was stunned to see her do that, because he didn't think she had it in her. Then again, life on the streets post-virus could do a lot to a person. He expected to see the bodyguard fold up and hit the ground. Instead, she stood there — apparently as surprised as everyone else that she was still alive.
Then he saw it. Behind the woman, just off to the left of her, was Ferguson, who'd been coming up behind, to restrain her. Adele's bullet had put paid to that. Jack's head was spinning. She'd missed and shot Ferguson by accident, clearly not as used to a gun as she appeared. But the wound was slap-bang in the centre of Ferguson's forehead, a million to one shot for a mistake. She'd been aiming for him, and she'd hit her target.
Adele turned the gun on Jack. "Now let her go," she told him.
He couldn't take any of this in. "What are you doing, you can't-"
"I said let her go, Jack. Don't make this any more difficult."
Difficult? What was she talking about? Jack looked at the other twin, then at The Tsar. If they hadn't appeared as puzzled as him, he might — just might — have leapt to the conclusion that she was working for their side. An infiltrator. No, that was impossible. Not Adele. She'd just seen the way the wind was blowing, that was all. Had chosen to try and switch sides to save her life. All that time surviving out there alone, you put yourself first. But it didn't have to be that way, he'd show her.
"Let's talk about this. We can still get out of here, you and me. Don't-"
"Shut up," Adele snapped. "I'm not going anywhere with you."
"You're scared, I understand that, but-"
"You understand nothing!" she screamed, and this time it wasn't her voice. Not the one she'd spoken with before, anyway. Not the voice of the Adele who'd toured the castle with him, eaten with him as they'd gotten to know each other. This was the voice of a ghost. A voice he knew all too well. "I say again, Jack. Let her go."
For a second he almost did it, purely because he was so astonished. But Jack instinctively held on to his hostage. If he was walking out of here, it was with the Chinese woman as his captive. Not with Adele — or whoever she was — arm in arm, like in some stupid chick flick. Jack should have known better, he'd never had the greatest luck with women. But for her to turn out to be…
There was a sudden pain in his back. He was forced to let go of the woman then, because he needed to reach round, lessen the agony there somehow. Agony caused by being struck by something.
The Chinese bodyguard stumbled forward out of his grasp, towards her twin, rubbing her throat. Jack looked over his shoulder and saw Tanek standing there, pike held like a very long club, having just returned the favour of Jack knocking him on his ass.
Another blow and Jack was on his knees, his staff on the floor, kicked out of reach. Adele still had the gun trained on him and he couldn't decide which way would be better to go, a quick shot to the head — like Ferguson — or having Tanek ram that pointed piece of metal through him.