The Bloodline Cipher by Stephen Cole

knuckle on bone, ceramics breaking. A few anxious seconds later Con re-emerged, stuffing a Rolex into her pocket. ‘One less creep to worry about.’
    â€˜Make that one more!’ Jonah shouted as the door to the utility room gave way. He grabbed the radio from his pocket. ‘Motti, we need back-up. Hostiles in east wing. Get Tye and get here –’
    The masked girl with the crossbow, presumbly Sadie, burst out from inside – and then skidded and landed flat on her butt.
    â€˜Ha!’ Patch waved the blanket like a victory flag ashe chucked an empty bottle of liquid soap at her head. Jonah realised the soap itself had been carefully spilled all over the floor.
    But Sadie recovered swiftly, scrambled on to the fallen door where she could keep her footing. She ripped off her mask to wipe her slippery hands – and in a heartbeat Jonah recognised the ring on her finger.
Coldhardt’s ring. The one Motti was meant to give Budd
, she
got hold of it
. But as Jonah turned to run it wasn’t the glint of gold that shone in his mind, but the image of her: her black, spiky hair, her face porcelain-pale with cheeks as rosy as a doll’s, brown eyes caked with kohl, emphasising her murderous glare. He sprinted after Con and Patch, their footfalls together like cold thunder on the marble as they made for the grand staircase across the hallway.
    But however fast they ran, he knew Sadie’s bolt would be faster.
    Jonah threw a desperate backward glance over his shoulder. Sadie was taking aim, her finger curling round the trigger, aiming carefully at –
    â€˜Patch!’ Jonah bawled.
    Trailing the foil blanket behind him like a super-hero’s cape, Patch had reached the top step. He turned round as the bolt was loosed – and doubled up as it hit him in the stomach.
    Patch staggered back, mouthing in silence, then fell and lay still.

Chapter Five
    Parked out on a wooded trail, just out of sight of Blackland’s fort, Tye sat in the pick-up, biting her nails. Motti was taking for ever to get here. He’d radioed that he was coming to her rather than waiting at the roadside as planned. Which meant something was wrong. She was tempted to radio him back, but if he was hiding out, lying low, her voice barking out of the handset wouldn’t exactly do him many favours. She wished they’d had more time to plan and prepare. She felt a flare of resentment at the thought of Coldhardt sitting pretty in his own fortress while they risked their lives breaking into this one. She should’ve spoken up, got them more planning time, scouted the location in advance. But Coldhardt had been so adamant they move quickly … as if he could sense his enemies closing in.
    Just what were Jonah and the others up against in there?
    There was a rap at the door of the pick-up. Tye was jolted back to the moment and grabbed the revolver lying in her lap. It wasn’t even loaded, but as a deterrent …
    Motti opened the door, panting for breath.
    She scowled and lowered the gun, angry and relieved at once. ‘What the hell’s happening out there?’
    As he opened his mouth to reply, a burst of static belched from his radio together with Jonah’s frantic voice.
‘Motti, we need back-up …’
    â€˜Drive,’ Motti snapped, holding the radio to his ear as he scrambled inside.
    Tye had already started the engine. ‘But if I break through the gates now, security –’
    â€˜â€“ is screwed all to hell. Two guards been wasted, at least two. Now
move
!’
    Tye put her foot down and fat tyres tore through the turf as the pick-up sped away along the track.
    â€˜Gates give on to the west side,’ Motti continued. ‘If we crash ’em, people gonna know we’ve arrived – and while they come looking, we sneak out and circle round to the east wing. Plan?’
    â€˜Plan,’ Tye agreed. The vehicle had been left for them at San Angelo by one