The Blue Ring by A. J. Quinnell Page A

he
turned to the open door and the long flight of stone steps leading up to the kitchen.
    "Get up there," he snapped at one of the guards, and to another he ordered,
"Cover the steps."
    The first guard ran up the steps three at a time, his pistol outstretched. The
second guard took up position at the open door, gun raised.
    Michael lifted his chin and looked up and around the room. Boutin had grabbed Denise's
arm and had pulled her away from the line of fire into a corner. He was holding
a pistol. She looked frightened. A guard was standing over Jens with his pistol
pointed at his head.
    Michael assumed that the remaining guard was doing the same behind him; he decided to
wait before making any move. From above he heard a two-second burst from an SMG
and a scream, and knew that Creasy was in the building. Michael's brain shifted
into high gear. If it was Creasy and he had an SMG he would have other weapons.
He definitely would not come down those stairs unprotected, and he wouldn't
come down firing, in case Michael or Jens were hit by a stray bullet. No, he
would neutralise everybody in the room first. Michael tensed.
     
    Upstairs in the kitchen, Creasy stepped over the body of the guard he had just shot.
Corelli was immobilised, handcuffed by one hand to a steel pipe by the big
oven. He stood and watched, his face ashen.
    Creasy moved up to the top of the steps, pulling out the dark goggles and adjusting
them over his eyes. He reclipped the SMG and unclipped a phosphorescent
grenade. He edged to the open door and, in a fraction of a second, took a
glance down the stairs, then took the pin out of the grenade, set the lever
free, counted in his head and with great force hurled it down the steps. It hit
the floor between Jens and Michael, ricocheted off the back wall and then
exploded in a blinding white light. Everyone in the room instinctively covered
their eyes.
    Michael
shouted, "Jens, don't move!" Then he shouted again, this time up the
stairs: "Three of them armed! One unarmed."
    Boutin
was shouting something which Michael could not understand. Then Michael heard a
thud and two short bursts from an SMG. Then a single shot. The woman was
screaming in terror.
    Michael
knew that the thud would have been Creasy, rolling into the room. Two short
bursts would have taken out the two guards. Then Creasy would have changed the
SMG to single shot and disabled Boutin.
    Slowly
the glare on the other side of Michael's eyelids diminished and Michael opened
them. The scenario was exact. Creasy was crouched just inside the door. Michael
noted the webbing under the open coat, holding the grenades and spare mags. He
saw the blur of Creasy's right hand as he changed the mag of the SMG. The guard
by the door was lying face down. Michael turned his head. The guard who had
been standing over him was lying crumpled in the corner. Boutin was on his
knees, one arm across his eyes, the other clutching his shoulder. His gun lay
on the floor a few feet away from him. The woman was slumped against the wall,
both hands across her eyes. Creasy's voice snapped out. "Jensen! Stay
still! Michael, move! Get Boutin's gun."
    Michael
scrambled to his feet, ran over and picked up Boutin's gun. By now the light in
the room was returning to normal. Creasy rose, pulled off the goggles and
dropped them into his pocket. He said, "Michael, the guards are
kaput." He gestured at Boutin and his mistress. "Cover those two from
the other side of the door. There are other guards in the grounds. They'll be
on their way." He disappeared up the steps.
    Boutin's
eyes were open now. He looked up at Michael and then at his two dead
bodyguards. His mistress had sunk to her haunches, trembling in shock. Boutin
took his hand from his shoulder and looked at the blood on his palm. He started
to say something, but Michael's voice cut him off.
    "Shut
your mouth or I'll put a bullet through it."
    From
upstairs they heard two more bursts from the SMG, and then nothing.
    From
the floor,