‘Last warning. Get out of the goddamn car. Now.’
Nikola and Max swung themselves out simultaneously. Calvary saw that Max had his rucksack with him. They stepped away, watching Blažek.
He said over his shoulder, to Gaines: ‘Get in.’
The man stumbled to comply. As he did so Calvary took another step forward, silently urging Jakub to move his head a fraction to the left, to give him a clear shot.
Blažek threw something heavy, the rifle he’d been using earlier, into the car after Gaines.
‘Now go sit in the Hummer. All three of you.’
Nikola and Max glanced at Calvary. He gave a nod, keeping his eyes on Blažek’s. They moved past him and he heard the Hummer’s doors opening.
Blažek said: ‘You too, asshole. But first, put the gun down.’
‘No.’
Blažek sighed, pointed the gun downward again. For a second his head was a clear target but then Jakub moved in the way, arching his back, and the chance was gone. Calvary said, ‘All right,’ and laid the Makarov down.
As he rose again he saw Blažek lift the pistol, extend it towards him. Calvary dived, taking the impact on his shoulder, as the shots came, spanging off the cobblestones, too close. He rolled past the rear of the Hummer and ducked behind it. From his worm’s-eye view he saw Blažek hesitate, as if debating whether to come after him, and then ram the barrel against Jakub’s head again.
Blažek said, ‘Bye bye, asshole,’ and pulled the trigger.
The exit wound spread the opposite side of Jakub’s head into a fan-shaped spray of bone and blood and brain matter.
From the Hummer, Nikola screamed, harsh and primal.
Calvary scrambled out from behind the vehicle and was going for the Makarov he’d placed on the cobblestones, but although Blažek had let Jakub’s body fall and had dropped into the driver’s seat of the VW, the door was still open and he reached through and opened fire, causing Calvary to flinch back. The VW’s engine revved and the car surged forward. Calvary rolled sideways, coming up hard against the wall hemming in the narrow street. He saw that the Hummer’s door had opened and Max had clambered out. Calvary shouted a warning as the kid leaped forward on to the bonnet. Blažek braked, punched the car into reverse, and Max dropped off on to the cobblestones. Again the car lunged forward. A wheel caught Max’s arm, pinning it with a crack, and the kid yelled.
Then the VW reversed again, all the way up the side street this time. Calvary rolled and got his gun and loosed off three shots after the car, just as it executed a three-point turn into the main street. He heard glass give way. By the time he reached the junction, the tail lights were weaving away, heading further down the cobbled street.
*
Son of a bitch. The shot had been a lucky one, but Bartos had been lucky, too. The bullet had passed through the windscreen and through the big fan of muscle joining his neck to his shoulder. The pain was enormous, as though a fiery boot had stamped on his shoulder, and he found he couldn’t raise his left arm. But he didn’t think anything vital had been damaged.
Behind him the old guy raised his head and Bartos snapped at him, wincing at the stab this provoked. The road before him twisted to the right and plunged even more steeply, down into the Lesser Town. He braked, too quickly, and felt the tyres slip on the cobbles.
He’d put some distance behind him, then ditch the VW and get himself a new car. Then he’d be away and dry. Let the cops find Calvary and those other assholes at the Hummer.
*
Calvary ran, staggering because of the slope and the uneven surface, the town before him with its medieval quaintness tilting crazily. Yet again the bandages had come loose from his head and he tore them away. He barged past a late-night couple, their faces agape.
The brake lights ahead kept flickering on, the VW moving uncertainly through the streets not meant for cars.
Calvary found his phone in one of his pockets and punched the button while running.
‘Nikola, it’s me.’
Her reply was halfway between a cry and a gasp.
‘Is Max okay?’
‘His – I think his arm is broken.’
‘You have to get away from there, Nikola. Get Max away and to a hospital. Drag him if you have to. Get clear of the Hummer, and then call an ambulance. The police will be there any moment. Oh, and don’t take the guns with you.’
‘What –’
‘Make up some story. He slipped and got run over. It’s not a bullet wound, it won’t be treated as suspicious.’
‘Jakub –’
‘He’s dead, and you have to leave him there.’
‘Where are you?’
‘After Blažek, on foot. I’ll find you later.’
‘Martin –’
He stumbled on, listening.
‘You must kill him. Blažek.’
‘I promise you, he’s not getting through this alive.’
*
The bullet might not have hit anything critical but there was still blood loss, and it was starting to get to Bartos. Through the windscreen the Baroque buildings rippled. A lamp post toppled towards him and he jerked the wheel aside, felt the front bumper on the passenger side hit something hard and buckle.
He restarted the engine, tried to reverse. No good: he was jammed against the obstruction, a hydrant or something. The hell with it.
He took several attempts to open his door, reaching across his body with his right hand to do it. He almost fell out, grinding his teeth against the fire in his shoulder. But he had a degree of movement in the joint, he realised.
A tiny dog on the end of a lead began yapping near his feet and he brought the pistol to bear and watched the terrified owner back away, hauling the mutt after her. He glanced up and down the street. Nobody about, all the windows dark. Beside him was a narrow church, Gothic spires barely visible against the dark of the sky.
Bartos dragged open the rear door and seized Gaines’s collar. The man collapsed on to the pavement. Bartos hauled him to his feet.
Footsteps, and he turned and looked back the way he had come.
Calvary was lurching down the street towards him.
Bartos took aim but the ground tilted again and there were suddenly two of the Englishman. He shook his head and blinked.
Need to get a grip.
Drawing breath deeply, he yanked Gaines in front of him, ignoring the pain in his shoulder – he was, after all, the Kodiak – and stumbled towards the church.
*
When Calvary became aware that Blažek wasn’t going to shoot – could barely stay upright, it seemed – he lifted his own gun, but his phone buzzed and he fumbled it out.
A text message, from Nikola: Max took this.
He looked at the attached photo.
Calvary put the phone away. Down the hill, Blažek had disappeared with Gaines around the side of the church. Calvary heard glass smash.
He ran almost headlong into the church wall, his own co-ordination failing him. For a few seconds he stood with his eyes closed, fighting down the tide of fatigue and nausea.
He ejected the magazine from the Makarov. He’d fired three at the VW. Five bullets left.
He’d noticed Blažek had the same handgun, doubtless taken off one of his Russian captors. He’d be close to empty, given the shooting he’d been doing back there at the Hummer. Two bullets into Jakub, four at Calvary as he’d rolled away. Three left, at most.
Unless of course he had a spare magazine.
Calvary crept along the church wall towards the side window. It had been stained glass, and was shattered. Through it, dim candlelight provided a degree of illumination. Alongside the wall was a small rockery. Calvary prised a Frisbee-sized rock loose, nearly overbalancing as he bent down, and tossed it through the window space.