Chapter 283: What is happening?

"What is happening?" The Don stopped in the middle of the corridor. It was not the sound that stopped him. It was the quiet that came after it, a soft, heavy thunk that ran through the walls of the house like a heartbeat. Somewhere behind him, a hundred small bolts had slid into place at the same moment.

Carina stopped beside him. The two guards at their backs stopped too, and one of them looked up at the ceiling as if he expected it to speak.

Down the long hall, a tiny light above the nearest door had turned from green to red. Then the next one. Then the next. "I think," Carina said slowly, "Kalisto has activated his security pass."

The Don turned his head. "What?"

"The doors. They are all electronic, Father. Everyone." Her voice was calm, but her fingers had gone white around the phone in her hand. "He has access to the system."

"Then get control of it. Now." Carina pulled the small tablet from the fold of her dress.

She had carried it all night, tucked against her ribs, and she had hoped she would not need it. She woke the screen. It asked for her code, and she typed it with quick, practiced fingers. The map of the house opened, with its little glowing squares.

They were all red. She pressed a key. The screen flickered, and a message flashed across the top in bold white letters. ACCESS DENIED. She stared at it.

She tried again. She typed her code more slowly, one number at a time, and pressed the key hard. ACCESS DENIED. The map blinked once and went gray. Then a second line appeared below the first, small and polite.

Your session has been ended by the administrator. "I have been kicked out," she whispered.

The Don said nothing. He only looked at the tablet, and at the red lights glowing down the hall, and the muscle in his jaw jumped once.

Footsteps rang out around the corner.

They were fast and heavy, and there were several of them. Don Konstantin’s hand moved to his jacket. The guards behind him reached for their guns. Carina stepped sideways, half in front of her father, and lifted her chin.

Two men in white suits came around the bend. Between them, in a pale gown, walked Helena.

She was not being dragged. They had been careful about that. But the taller man had his hand under her elbow, and the shorter one walked at her back, and she moved the way people move when they have been told they have no choice. Her hair had come a little loose. Her eyes were wide and bright. She saw the Don.

"Konstantin." Her voice rose, shrill and shaking, a perfect picture of a wife who has been frightened half to death.

"What is the meaning of this? Why did these men drag me out of the hall like that? In front of everyone?" She yanked her arm free of the tall man’s grip. "Do you know how it looked? Do you know what people are saying?"

The Don did not answer her.

He did not even look at her face. His eyes went past her shoulder, to the men, and then back along the corridor behind them. He was counting. His mouth had gone thin.

"Where is Katalia?" he said. The men looked at each other.

"Don?" said the tall one. "Katalia. My daughter. I told you to bring her out with my wife." He said it in a low, quiet voice, and every man in the corridor felt the cold in it. "Where is she?"

The shorter man swallowed. "She was not at the party, Don."

"What do you mean?"

"We looked, sir. The whole hall. The terrace. She was not there." His eyes dropped. "Nobody has seen her for some time." For a moment the corridor was silent.

Helena’s face did not change. But her fingers curled slowly into the folds of her gown, and Carina, watching her from the corner of her eye, saw her knuckles go white.

She is not at the party. Then where is she? "What do you mean, she was not at the party?" The Don’s voice cracked across the stone like a whip. "Where the hell is she?"

"We do not know, don..."

"Then find her!" His hand slammed against the wall. The sound rang down the passage, and one of the guards jumped. "Go back. Turn the house over. Every room, every closet, every stair. I want my daughter found, and I want her found now. Go!"

The two men turned and ran back. The Don stood breathing hard.

His hand was still flat against the white wall. His jacket had pulled up on one side, and the handle of the gun showed black against the silk lining. His face was red and shining, and for a moment he did not look like a king. He looked like a man who had lost something small and precious in a crowded place.

She was in my hands. I had her. She was in my hands, and she walked away. Then he drew a long breath through his nose, and his face went smooth again. He pushed himself off the wall and straightened his cuffs.

"Carina."

"Father."

"Take Helena and go to the security hideout."

"Father..."

"It is behind the east cellar. The door has a code. Take her in, lock it, and stay there until I send word." His eyes were hard as stone. "There is a safe room inside. Nobody gets through that door. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, Father."

Helena opened her mouth to speak. But a guard came running up the corridor, panting, with his hand pressed to a small black earpiece. He stopped short and snapped a quick, ragged salute.

"Boss."

"What?"

"Every door out is locked." The words came out fast. "The main entrance, the kitchens, the cellar, the roof, all of them. We cannot open any of them from the inside. And the security hideout, sir, the east cellar door..."

"Yes?"

"It is on the same system. We cannot get in." The silence that followed was terrible.

Helena stood very still. Carina looked down at her useless tablet. The guard who had spoken kept his eyes fixed on the floor, as if he hoped it would open up and swallow him.

The Don did not shout.

That was the worst of it. He stood quietly, with his hands at his sides, and the anger went out of his face the way a tide goes out. What came in behind it was something flatter and colder, and everyone in that corridor took a step back.

"Then we are locked in," he said softly.

"Yes, Don."

"Together with every man who wants me dead."

"Yes."

He nodded slowly, as if he were considering a problem in arithmetic.

"Very well." He lifted his head. "Have the men work on getting back control of the security access. Everyone who knows a keyboard. Break the panel if they must. Cut the power to the whole west wing if it comes to that. I want those doors opened."

"Yes, Don."

"And I will end that old bastard." He said it in an ordinary voice, without heat. He turned to the rest of the guards, who stood in a ragged half circle with their hands near their jackets and their faces pale.

"The rest of you. With me."

He walked. He walked fast, without looking back, down the long white corridor toward the grand hall. His shoes rang on the floor. His white jacket flashed under the lamps, and the guards fell in behind him in two tight lines, drawing their weapons as they went.

He was marching to find Kalisto. Carina watched them go.

She stood still until the last of their footsteps faded. Then she turned to Helena, and for a moment the two women looked at each other across the empty hall.

Helena’s mask had slipped a little. Her fear was still there, but it was not the fear of a wife who did not understand. It was the fear of a mother. Where is she? Carina saw it. She did not say anything about it. She only took a breath, slid her useless tablet back into her dress, and held out her hand.

"Come with me."

"The hideout is locked," Helena said quietly.

"I know."

"Then where..."

"There is a security main room." Carina’s voice was low. "On the ground floor, near the old servants’ stairs. It is where the guards watch the cameras. It is not the hideout, but it is wired into the whole system. If there is a way to break in, it will be there."

Helena looked at her. It was a long, searching look. She was weighing something. Then she nodded, once, and took the offered hand.

"Lead the way."

Carina turned to the lone guard who had stayed behind. He was a young man with a nervous face. He stood stiffly, with his gun in both hands.

"You too."

"Yes, miss."

They set off together, the three of them, at a fast, quiet walk. Carina went in front. Helena followed with her gown gathered in one fist. The young guard brought up the rear, glancing over his shoulder every few steps.