‘Then she may have escaped,’ said the French Inspector.
‘She went rather wrong. She started firing the machine guns in her chest,’ Kate tried to explain.
‘Ahhh, but she is worth millions of Euros, there will be hell to pay if she is lost. We must pray she has not been too badly damaged,’ said the French Inspector shaking his head.
They all turned to look at the burning château.
‘This was our best safe house. It cost many millions, and it has been destroyed. How did it happen?’ the Inspector continued.
‘I don’t know,’ said Kate, keen to minimise her role in the carnage.
They all stood in silence in the still night, with only the crackling of the château as it burned, the orange glow spreading out over the lawns to meet the blue flashes of the police cars on the perimeter.
Bandit arrived and sat next to Kate, just as Hector slid down the rope slide.
‘Hello,’ said Hector, in his usual cheerful tone, ‘Don’t worry about Mrs Warp, she was a mad robot assassin, but we did her in eventually.’
There was silence. Hector noticed that the man who seemed to be in charge was staring at him in an unfriendly way.
‘Did her in? Did her in? You destroyed Mrs Warp!’ yelled the French Inspector.
‘It wasn’t easy,’ Hector declared.
In the stunned silence that followed Hector decided the Inspector needed an explanation.
‘Well, Mrs Warp already had some holes and water in her, I saw it leaking out. I chopped off her hand with an axe when she was clinging on to the landing. Kate shot her when she was climbing up the building and I sprayed more water into her using a fire extinguisher, and then Kate sort of finished her off by hitting her on the head with the blunt part of the axe.’
‘That was an accident,’ Kate said weakly.
‘Yes, she meant to use the sharp end,’ Hector added in an attempt to be helpful.
Inspector Smithson had started to wave frantically behind Inspector Mason’s back, trying to tell Hector to shut up. Hector completely misunderstood this, and carried on.
‘The château caught fire because I put a bomb I found into the microwave in the kitchen,’ Hector explained.
‘You put a bomb in the microwave?’ asked the French Inspector, in a constricted voice.
‘I found it, but I thought the microwave was a digital safe, and I was trying to stop old Warty Warp getting it,’ said Hector.
‘Old Warty Warp,’ shouted the Inspector, ‘was trying to protect you! She was on our side! You hooligans! You vandals.’
‘Now, I understand you’re upset,’ said Inspector Smithson, ‘but I am sure Kate and Hector were doing their best. They need our help and protection.’
‘Protection!’ retorted Inspector Mason, ‘Maybe you could persuade Sludge to protect them; he’ll be dead before sunset. Who is more dangerous, Sludge or these two hooligans? They’ve managed to burn down our top safe house and destroy an indestructible robot, who was incredibly expensive and highly sophisticated. Mrs Warp was almost perfect, the secret engineering pride of France, and your hooligans finished her off with an axe?’
‘They are two young children who need a good night’s sleep and our help,’ said Inspector Smithson in a measured tone.
Inspector Mason stormed off.
‘Don’t worry,’ said Inspector Smithson, ‘I’ll sort something out.’
CHAPTER THREE
The Camp
Kate, Hector and Bandit were escorted to a police van by two grim-faced police men. From the look of it the van was used for moving prisoners. It soon set off, and judging by the flashing blue lights, they had an escort of police cars ahead and behind them. Kate found a small window, and gazed with disbelief at the burning château, as the movement of the van brought various policemen and women into silhouette against the roaring flames that were tearing the château apart.
At one point she thought she could see Inspector Mason ranting at Inspector Smithson. Everything seemed to have made him angry; the burning of the château, the destruction of Mrs Warp, and lastly Bandit’s attempt to wee on him just before they left. Bandit had simply trotted up happily, lifted a leg and urinated. Inspector Mason had jumped back amazingly quickly, and then began shouting in French.
Kate was pleased that Bandit was with them, despite the trouble he had caused, and soon Hector was also cuddling their new dog. His insouciance was calming. Kate was feeling shaky. She found it hard to keep back the tears, while even Hector’s cast-iron belief that everything would turn out alright had several Sludge-sized dents in it.
Bandit, on the other hand, was feeling a mixture of contentment and excitement. He was content because he had two admiring young humans who were cuddling him as if he was the most important thing on earth. He was excited because he suspected the van might be taking them towards food, and possibly even a warm fire; although hopefully not as warm as the château.
The journey continued into the night, made seemingly longer by the absence of any information about where they were going or how long it would take. After an hour Hector had drifted off to sleep, his head laid on a snoring Bandit. Kate, on the other hand, found it difficult to sleep. She kept turning over in her mind just two ideas. The first was that it was difficult to tell friend from foe. She had assumed the pilot on their chartered plane was helping them, and yet he turned out to be an enemy. Likewise, her and Hector had believed Mrs Warp to be another assassin, and yet she had been there to protect them.
The second persistent thought that bothered Kate was that they had narrowly escaped death twice in the space of just two days. If this carried on then, at some point, they would not be lucky; things would not turn out just right. An enemy who could not be stopped and would not give up would eventually succeed. She felt waves of hopelessness wash over her, just as they had when their plane was almost shot down. She cuddled Bandit just a little bit harder, and was rewarded with a soft hiss as Bandit passed wind.
Suddenly, the van braked hard, lurched left and then right, and continued at a slower pace. Kate looked out of the thick glass of the window and saw soldiers and armoured vehicles. When the van came to a halt it was a soldier who opened the door and addressed her as mademoiselle.
Moments later another soldier introduced himself as the commanding officer, Colonel Bertrand. In polished English, he explained that they were now in his care. It was apparent that this new responsibility was troublesome and unwelcome for him, but this man prided himself as a gentleman, and manners dictated that he should be hospitable. He explained, as kindly as he could, that they would be guarded in the prison block, and that this was because it was as hard to break in as it was to break out.
Colonel Bertrand had earlier given orders that the children were to be separated from the dog they had picked up, but the father in him, faced with Kate’s tears, and Hector’s defiant stare, could not see it through. They were, after all, two frightened children, away from their parents and being pursued by a fearsome killer. Finally, it was the soldier in him that issued the discreet and slightly unofficial order that Sludge should be shot on sight. A gun-battle could be faked after the event if need be.
Kate and Hector’s cell had been hastily improved with some pictures, plush bedding and a jug of water. The door to their cell remained open, but it was still a night in the cells. Outside their cell were two soldiers with machine guns.
Their sleep was further delayed by the arrival of a small man wearing a raincoat and a short, oddly-styled beard. He insisted that they tell him about everything that happened to Mrs Warp. He was quite kind to begin with, but as he heard more Kate sensed that he was angry with them. It had already dawned on her that this man