A Death in Sweden(68)
At the moment, Teddy was still standing exactly where he’d been inspecting the snow, as if waiting for backup, though Dan couldn’t see anyone emerging from the house. Then he understood exactly what Teddy was waiting for, because the monitors died again, shut down by someone in the house.
He couldn’t stay here. He hit the lights, then eased the door open and stepped out into his old tracks. He moved along the wall of the lodge, where the snow had not yet gathered, and into the shelter of the hedge, where he dropped to the floor which was cold but had once again been sheltered from the snow.
Dan lay still on his side, his back pushed under the hedge, listening. He could hear cars in the distance, but almost nothing else. Nearby, he could even hear the soft patter of the snow making contact. There was nothing from the house, and nothing to see either, because it was all but out of sight from where he lay.
He seemed to have been lying there for minutes when he became aware of other sounds, as indistinct as the snowfall, but definitely there. Teddy was edging toward the lodge, keeping his own movements slow and careful so that he could listen out for Dan in turn.
He couldn’t see him though, even against the snow, even when the sound had become distinct enough to suggest he wasn’t many yards away. Dan tipped his head, and realized now why he hadn’t seen him. Teddy had come up with the same idea, and was edging carefully along the hedge, using its shadow for cover.
From the lodge it would have camouflaged him, but from where Dan lay, he could see his shadow clearly, rippling along the front of the hedge. He’d have been able to get a better shot by rolling out into the open, but he didn’t want to risk the movement, so he just brought his arm around in one swift movement and fired.
Teddy groaned with the impact, and let off a volley of shots, one of them hitting the door of the lodge. He fell then, slumping, easily visible now as a black mass upon the white lawn. Dan fired into his crumpled body again and jumped up.
He ran towards him, taking a head shot as soon as he had a clear visual, though unlike with Rick, it seemed he’d hit lucky with the first two. As he looked down at the messed-up face, a barely audible, insect-like noise sounded in Teddy’s earpiece, one of the guys in the house responding to the shots, which even with the silencers had produced a racket.
Dan ignored it. He readied himself to move instead, thinking through how best to approach the house, but the decision was made for him. Because when Teddy didn’t respond to the voice in his ear, the owner of that voice answered in his own way by turning on floodlights which tore through the darkness, blinding him, lighting up the gardens like some Christmas theme park. There was no time left for strategy—Dan started running even before he heard the first shot.
Chapter Forty-one
Another couple of shots came in quick succession. It was a sniper rifle of some sort, being fired from high up with a good view over the gardens on that side. Dan dived into the nearest stand of shrubs and trees, and even then, scrabbled to get behind the trunk of one of the trees, knowing the shrubs wouldn’t offer much protection.
It was only then that he was absolutely certain he hadn’t been hit. But he was still a good sprint across open lawn from the cover of the house. He looked back across the dazzlingly bright snow now, fresh flakes still falling and catching the light, Teddy’s body already getting a dusting.
Dan slid down the trunk and onto his belly, then crawled along the back of the stand of shrubs. He wasn’t visible, he knew that much, but a shot still fired out and he felt it pull at his back and plough into the snow with an explosive thud. He crawled faster, made the cover of a bigger tree, sat up.
He didn’t feel hurt, but gingerly slid his hand behind his back and felt his jacket. The bullet had ripped shreds through it but hadn’t touched him. Ironically, it filled him with unease, because it made him feel he was riding his luck.
He also guessed they were using thermal cameras, given that they’d known exactly where to fire. And that meant they knew exactly where he was right now, probably even knew what his next move would be. He had no choice but to make that move, though—all he could do was play it fast.
He pushed himself up into a standing position, glanced out from one side of the tree, and before he’d even heard the shot that followed, he leaned out the other side, fired a shot at the upper windows, then ran, hurtling across the lit lawns, ignoring the cover now but aiming only to tighten the angle and get to the house.
One, two, three shots, but all somewhere behind him. He kept running, found a side door—locked—kicked it in and stepped inside. It was a boot room or pantry, in darkness, perhaps leading to the kitchen that Josh had mentioned as their usual haunt.
He moved on, found an alcove set back, not even sure what it was, and he stepped back into its shadows and waited. He could hear footsteps somewhere above, hurried, and then a voice, though he couldn’t make out the words.
Then he heard the same voice again, this time raised, saying, “Bill, he’s in the house!”
Dan didn’t hear Bill’s response, but whatever it was, a door slammed and footsteps hurried across the floor. They stopped again, but Dan picked up the faint creaking of a stair. A few moments later he could sense that there was someone just along the corridor from him, not far away.
The guy had probably seen the forced door, but he was too smart to investigate. Dan could hear the faint sounds of him backing away again, followed by an ominous total silence, and then the alcove he was in filled with light. He guessed the lights could all be controlled centrally and the guy had turned them on.