The Lost Key

He said no more, merely looked down at her. Oh, her back would mark so beautifully. But he had to be careful and not get carried away. What was important now were the coordinates to the submarine. März was already on the Gravitania with Adam Pearce, and the damned boy was refusing to tell him anything. März wanted to beat it out of him, but Havelock knew März didn’t have the talent to do it properly. He’d fall into a rage that turned his world red and he wouldn’t be able to stop and the boy would be dead. So it was up to him. He knew exactly what to do.

He looked up to see Elise slip into the room. “Come here and look at her, my dear. Her eyes—can you see the fear in them? I have asked her the coordinates. I have been polite. She swears she doesn’t know. So I will move on. Watch what your master can do.”

Sophie pulled and jerked her wrists. Havelock said, “Go ahead, Ms. Pearce, struggle to your heart’s content.” He ran his hand down the length of Sophie’s spine, his eyes on Elise the whole time. Ah, now she was thrashing about, making frantic yipping sounds. Elise ran her tongue slowly over her bottom lip and he stilled, but only for a moment.

He hit a button on his cell phone. While it rang, he said, “Now, Ms. Pearce, we’re going to play a little game.” The call co

“März? Do you have the boy close?”

“Yes, he is here. He is listening.”

“Then by all means let’s allow them to speak to one another.”

Havelock punched the speaker button and set the phone down on the desk, close to Sophie. He smiled as he reached inside her shirt and caressed one breast. Then he slapped her hard on the back. She rewarded him with a muffled groan through the gag. Havelock walked around to the side of the chair so she could look at him.

“Very good, very good. Now I want you to cry for your brother.”

Her dark hair tangled in her face and he pushed it out of her eyes. He saw fear, panic, but, alas, determination.

“Stubborn, are you? I think a little added incentive will make all the difference.”

He took Elise’s favorite cat-o’-nine-tails, the one with small lead weights on the ends of the soft suede, perfect for leaving marks on the flesh without opening a wound, moved into position, and struck.

Not terribly hard, he didn’t want her to think this was the worst it could possibly be, not yet.

The whip whistled through the air and landed against her back. She jerked, her breath heaved out, and she grit her teeth.

He did it again.

“Your father told the Order he’d found the sub. I’ve been waiting for this to happen, you see. I’d been watching him, watching the communications between your father and your brother. I’ve been waiting for so long, so many years, so much pla

He struck her, but she made no sound.

“Yes, I had to identify exactly who would help me, how I could get into the Order.”

He struck again, harder, and then again. She was crying behind the gag, low, retching sobs.

“Your father wasn’t supposed to die. It was incompetent bungling and I regret it. He had so much knowledge, and it was a true waste, losing him.” He hit her twice more, once from each direction. “Ah, Elise, the stripes are rising, a lovely red, and there is bruising begi

She yelled. It was delicious, too delicious. He had to keep himself focused, couldn’t allow himself to enjoy this the way he’d prefer. Pay attention, pay attention. “Perhaps you’re an exceptional liar, sweetheart, perhaps you don’t know the coordinates after all?”

He grabbed her hair and pulled her head back. “Tell me, come on now, tell me.”

“I don’t know the damned coordinates!”

He paused. “Yes, I believe you. So now you must tell your brother to give März the coordinates, or we’re going to move on to the real show. You believe I’ve already hurt you? You have no idea what I can do.”

He held the phone to her lips. “Tell him.”

She was breathing hard, pain choking her. Her back was on fire. She met his eyes and slowly she nodded. He put the cell phone to her mouth and Sophie yelled, “Don’t tell him anything, Adam!”

Havelock shook his head at her like a mournful parent. “That was a mistake, my dear.”

He set the phone next to her head, selected the smaller of the three whips he had with him, the leather one studded with small iron rivets. He knew from personal experience the pain was extraordinary, when applied correctly.

The first blow brought round welts out on her skin. The second drew blood. And she screamed and screamed for him. He paused, breathing hard, and picked up the cell phone.

“Do you hear that, Adam? She’s bleeding now. I’ll move on to other, more persuasive methods if you do not tell me the coordinates immediately.”

He heard sounds of a struggle, März’s curses, then Adam Pearce’s furious voice spoke in his ear. “I’ll tell you, you sadistic bastard. Don’t touch her again, swear to me you’ll let her go.”

Havelock slowly slid the whip down Sophie’s spine, smiled. “Of course I swear. Where is the sub? I want to hear the coordinates myself.”

Adam choked out a series of numbers, latitude and longitude.

A moment later März got on the phone.

“We’ve confirmed the coordinates. Right where you believed it was, northern Scotland, in Loch Eriboll.”

“Excellent,” Havelock replied. “Send the coordinates to my cell phone, and move the Gravitania into position. I will be there shortly.”

Havelock slipped his cell into his pocket as he looked dispassionately at Sophie Pearce’s back, spun the chair around to see the tears streaming down her face. He’d done a nice job, he doubted Elise could do any better. He struck palm open across her face for good measure, then kissed her softly on the forehead and untied her wrists. “Come along. We have a quick trip to make.”

He grabbed her hair and dragged her out of the study and into the hallway, Elise behind him, no expression on her face.

Alex Shepherd came ru

“Move out of my way, Shepherd.”

But Alex didn’t move. He drew a gun, but Havelock was quicker. He already had a gun in his hand and shot him in the chest. He dragged Sophie over his body, and half dragged her down the stairs.

At the bottom of the stairs stood the guard who’d allowed Sophie to escape. He was holding his head. He looked up, an excuse halfway out his mouth when Havelock shot him in the forehead.

Edward Weston came through the front door at that moment, looked at the dead guard, at Sophie Pearce. He asked calmly, “Do we have what we need?”

Havelock shoved Sophie at him. “Get her in the plane. Let’s go.”

“Where’s Shepherd?”

“Dead.”

Weston threw out his hands. “What? Why? We need him.”

“No, what we need is the key, and now I know exactly where it is. Now, let’s go.” He signaled to Elise, who looked through Weston and followed Havelock out the front door.

“No, he’s not dead,” Weston said.

Havelock turned to see Alex Shepherd coming slowly down the stairs, his gun locked on Havelock. He raised a brow. “My, my. Still alive, are we? Wearing that armor I had made for you? I suppose I should have shot you in the head. No matter, you can bring her.” He pointed the gun at Sophie’s temple. “Let’s go.”

63

Notting Hill

4:00 p.m.

Penderley said, “The tech lads are saying the phone has some sort of scrambled signal, bouncing off relays throughout the country. The call may not have originated in Oxford after all, but we’ll be optimistic. We’ll find her.” Nicholas only hoped they’d find her in time.