Releasing the depleted magazine from his assault rifle, he jammed a full one in place, pulled the bolt to charge the firing mechanism. Not that he wanted to rely on the rifle—his ceramic blade was his weapon of choice this time—but there could be heavy resistance from whoever was in the hidden chamber and he was happy to use the rifle on them.

At the base of the stairs he paused. The door to another passage lay open. He could hear voices from within a room at the far end. Two or more men were waiting for him there and if he approached along the passage they’d cut him down instantly. Problem being there was no other way inside.

Turning back to the stairs, Rickard loosed a barrage of bullets into the empty space at the top. He shouted, then fired a couple of single rounds. He followed that by another burst, shooting at the stairs this time. The volume of gunfire was horrendous, but in the hidden chamber it would echo even louder, serving to confuse those within. Immediately, he spun on his heel and pounded along the passageway. As he ran he was shouting full voice in fluent Spanish. “Señor Calle! Señor Calle! You must get away. Silva is here. He’s in the house!”

His bullets and his frantic shout did the trick: they confused the men into thinking that he was one of their own defenders. It was a charade that would last only as long as it took for them to cast their gaze on him, but that was enough for him. He made it along the passage and into the room without being cut down, whereupon he immediately lifted his rifle.

Staring back at him in incredulity were three people. Two of them were armed with handguns and he indicated that they drop them. Cesar Calle and a henchman both allowed their guns to fall to the floor and they raised their hands in surrender. Rickard eyed them in disdain, then he shot them both as though they were paper targets beneath his contempt.

Calle dead was a promise fulfilled to Alvaro Silva. Maybe Rickard hadn’t made him scream but he didn’t care. What he was here for was his prize. Rickard smiled at the figure propped in the hospital bed.

“I bet you weren’t expecting me?”

Chapter 34

34

“So much for plans,” I muttered over my shoulder.