Darkness, total after the glare. But again an impression lingering. Halloran had seen someone standing among the beasts. A bent figure, a cowl concealing its features. Whoever it was had been watching the lake.
Halloran heard a voice—no, laughter—and his attention was diverted to the boat. He had recognised the dry cackle of Felix Kline, the sound amplified across the water. Halloran rose to his feet and moved forward at speed, keeping low, taking the gun from its holster as he went.
He could make out the landing jetty ahead and noted that the boat he and Kline had used that morning was no longer moored there. Did Kline enjoy a night-time boat-ride as well as an early morning one? Or had he been forced into a trip not of his choosing, the lake making an obvious route to avoid the guard dogs? But he had heard Kline laughing, hardly the attitude of someone being kidnapped. Nevertheless, Halloran did not relax. If they moved any further away he would get to a car and be ready to meet them on the opposite bank at the estate's border. He would also have a chance to call in back-up on the journey.
There was no cover this close to the shoreline, so Halloran moved back a ways, then spreadeagled himself on the ground, his gun pointing towards the dull shape on the lake. He waited and yet again was dazzled by another vast spasm of light. The intervals between had not been regular in length, so there was no way of preparing himself for each surge. The light vanished instantly, neither fading nor receding, snuffed like a candle flame. He rubbed at his eyelids, disbelieving what he had seen, telling himself there had to be a simple explanation, that he hadn't been able to take in everything during that short burst of light. Reason reassured him, but the after-image refused to compromise.
Halloran had seen four men in the boat—Palusinski, Monk and the two Jordanians. Kline had not been with them.
He was several yards away. He had been standing on the calm surface of the water.
Halloran shook his head, resisting the urge to laugh at the absurdity. There had to be something else out there just below the water level, a sandbank, a submerged platform, perhaps even a large rock. There was a logical explanation. Had to be. It was in Kline's nature to play such childish games. But surely they would have come across such an obstruction when he, himself, had rowed out there that very morning?
In the distance the jackals howled, the sound further away this time, as though they were leaving the shoreline to slink back into the wooded slopes. He heard oars swishing on water. Voices. Drawing close to the jetty. He waited for them all to disembark before getting to his feet and going towards them.
Moonlight squeezed through the merest rent in the clouds and the group came to a halt when they caught sight of Halloran.
'No need for weapons,' Kline said, humour in his voice. 'No enemies among us tonight, Halloran.'
'What the hell were you doing out there?' The question was quietly put, Halloran's anger suppressed.
'I'm not a prisoner in my own home,' Kline replied jovially. 'I do as I please.'
'Not if you expect me to protect you.'
'There's no danger tonight.' Moonlight broke through with greater force and he saw that Kline was grinning at him.
'The light from the water . . .?' Khayed and Daoud, dressed in the robes of their country, grinned as broadly as their master, while Palusinski glanced anxiously at Kline. Monk remained expressionless.
Kline's eyebrows arched uncomprehendingly. Then: 'Ah, the lightning flashes. Yes, there seems to be quite an electrical storm raging above us tonight. With thunder soon to follow, no doubt. And then, of course, a deluge. Best not to linger out here, don't you agree?' Once again his manner had changed.
Kline's disposition had become that of an older, more reasoning man, the insidious mocking still in his voice, but his tone softer, less strident. His persona was vibrant, as if brimming with energy, though not of the nervous—and neurotic—kind that Halloran had become used to.
'You weren't in the boat,' Halloran said almost cautiously.
There was elation in Kline's laughter. 'I'm not one for moonlight dips, I can assure you.' Palusinski snickered.
'I saw you . . . on the water.'
'On the water?' Kline asked incredulously, continuing to smile. 'You mean walking on the water? Like Jesus Christ?' Halloran did not reply.
'I see you've been hallucinating again, Halloran. Something in this lake obviously doesn't agree with your mental processes.' The Arabs chuckled behind their hands.
'I really think you should be resting,' Kline went on in mock-sympathy. 'The strain of the last couple of days is apparently affecting your judgement. Or should I say, your perception? I can't say I'm not surprised, Halloran. After all, you did come highly recommended as a bodyguard. I wonder if your employers realise that stress is getting the better of you.' At last even Monk smiled.
The clouds resumed their dominance and the landscape darkened once more.
'I think we should talk,' Halloran said evenly, ignoring the stifled sounds of mirth coming from Kline's followers (for that was what they were, he had decided, not just employees, but in some way, disciples of this strange man).
'But you should be sleeping. Isn't this your off-duty period? That's why we chose not to disturb you—we are perfectly aware that someone under your kind of pressure needs his rest.'
'Monk and Palusinski had instructions to alert me to any activity, no matter what time it was.'
'A late-night excursion on the lake was hardly worth rousing you for.'
'I gave them orders.'
'And I countermanded those orders.'
'My company can't function under those conditions. Tomorrow I'll recommend the contract is cancelled, or at least that I'm taken off the assignment. There's too much going an here that I don't like.'
'No.' At least the mood had been broken; Kline's tone was sharp, urgent. 'You mustn't do that. I need you with me.'
'You might need Shield, but you don't need me. There are other operatives equally as goad.' He tucked the automatic back into its holster and turned to walk away.
'Wait.' Kline had taken a step after him and Halloran paused.
'I suppose I'm being a little unfair,' the smaller man said, and immediately something of his 'other' self was in evidence, almost as though it were another guise. 'You're right, we should have let you know we were coming out here, should've brought you along for safety. But it was a spur of the moment thing, y'know, something I felt like doing. I didn't see any need to worry you.'
'That doesn't explain why you went on the lake. Nor does it explain the light. Or what I saw.'
'Look at those clouds. Just study them for awhile.'
'That isn't nec = A flash of light stopped him. He gazed skywards. Another, fainter, discharge of energy, but enough to throw the tumbled cloud into relief. 'That isn't what happened before. The light came from the lake.'
'Reflections, that's all. It bounced off the water's surface. The lake's calm tonight, just like a big mirror.'
A stuttered glare from above lit the group of men standing before him, hardening them into statues, bleaching their faces white. In the distance, as if to confirm Kline's explanation, came a deep rumbling of thunder.
'Let's get inside before the rain comes,' Kline suggested.
'I saw -'
'You were mistaken.' There was a firmness to the statement. 'We'll go back to the house, Halloran, and I'll tell you a few things about myself, about this place. You'll find it interesting, I promise you that.'
Halloran was tempted to advise his client to go to hell, but part of him was intrigued. The man was an enigma, and unlike any person he'd had to protect before. 'One condition,' he said.
Kline lifted his hands, palms towards Halloran. 'Whatever.'
'You answer all my questions.'