He frisked Waldron’s body, coming away with nothing.
The Range Rover’s horn blared.
‘They’re fifteen seconds away!’ he heard Cook call.
Time was up. Taking the blade and the bag, Morgan sprinted to the Range Rover, throwing himself into the passenger seat as Cook jumped onto the accelerator pedal.
The car roared away, leaving the carnage of the scene to the arriving sirens of the Metropolitan Police.
Chapter 38
‘See anyone follow us?’ Morgan asked. Cook shook her head. ‘OK. Pull over,’ he instructed.
She took the Range Rover to the kerb.
‘What about Knight?’ she asked.
‘We’ll find him,’ Morgan promised. He opened up the rucksack he’d taken from Waldron’s truck and peered inside.
‘What’s in it?’ she asked.
‘A disposal kit,’ he answered. ‘Hacksaw. Plastic sheeting. A hammer.’
‘Jesus.’ Cook shook her head. ‘You find anything on his body?’
‘Nothing. No wallet. No ID.’
‘Maybe the other kidnapper cleaned up. Took them with them.’
‘Maybe,’ Morgan allowed. ‘But I didn’t really expect to find anything. He was Recon. He’d know to go out into the field sterile.’
‘That may be,’ Cook thought aloud, ‘but you don’t get into Trooping the Colour without a ticket and ID.’
‘I don’t think he was going,’ Morgan explained. ‘The way he was dressed — scruffy jeans and a T-shirt — he would have drawn attention at the event.’
‘Then why say that? Why make those threats about Abbie?’
‘Misdirection. Trooping the Colour had been the Duke and Wilkinson’s plan. They would have been able to get Abbie in and release her. But you and I saw how tight the security was to get in there. Why would real kidnappers risk it?’
‘To prove a point?’
‘This was about money, not politics.’
‘God, you’re right,’ Cook realised, crestfallen. ‘Then the other kidnapper could be taking Peter and Abbie anywhere. Our only hope is that Waldron’s partner tries one more time to make the demand.’
‘He won’t.’ Morgan shook his head. ‘They were quick to kill before, just to prove a point. He won’t have any second thoughts about doing it now to clean up. I mean they killed the bodyguard before they’d even…’ He fell silent, his eyes growing wide.
‘What?’ Cook asked, looking at Morgan.
‘We’ve been working on assumptions, Jane,’ he told her. ‘We assumed the threat to kill Abbie and make it public at the parade was real. That was wrong. What else have we assumed?’
Cook had no answer.
Morgan hit speed dial. ‘Hooligan. Bring up the dead bodyguard’s records.’
‘Done,’ came the Londoner’s swift reply.
‘Was he medically trained?’ Morgan asked, his fingers tightly gripping the phone.
‘Sergeant Aaron Shaw was a qualified team medic for every one of his operational tours, boss.’
Morgan looked to Cook, the scent of prey thick in his nostrils.
The Major almost gasped as she came to the same conclusion. ‘Shaw knew how to draw blood,’ she whispered.
Morgan nodded. ‘Abbie was taken by her own bodyguard.’
Chapter 39
It was the pain beneath his ribs that brought Knight back to consciousness.
His eyes opened wide, and he wanted to scream in agony, but his lips wouldn’t move and the sound died in his throat. It took him a moment to realise that his mouth had been taped shut. Wanting to tear it away, Knight discovered with panic that his hands were tied behind his back, his ankles also bound, and his shoes removed.
He was a prisoner, he realised, dread rising from his stomach. He had no idea how, but he had an idea by whom.
He was the prisoner of a ghost.
Aaron Shaw entered the room — the bodyguard whom Private had presumed dead was still very much alive. He was looking at a phone in his hand, as if weighing up a mighty decision.
‘Will your dad pay?’ the man asked, his tone heightened by adrenaline. Knight followed Shaw’s gaze to another bound prisoner, though unlike him, Abbie Winchester had the comfort of a threadbare sofa.
‘Abbie!’ Shaw roared. ‘Will your dad pay?’
Abbie’s mouth was free from tape, but fear kept the words inside her.
‘You useless little twat!’ he screamed, brandishing a knife that he pulled from inside his coat. ‘You still think you’re bloody special, don’t you? Even covered in your own piss and puke, you still think you’re special! Well you’re not!’
The man backhanded his prisoner, who let out a moan.
‘Your dad was the same! Treated his blokes like they were his bloody servants! But who did he come to when he needed the dirty work doing? What kind of man would set up his own fucking daughter to go through this?
‘Don’t you understand, you stupid little tart? Your dad would rather have you dead and out of the picture than give away the family’s money! Why do you think he got these pricks from Private involved, instead of just paying up? He wanted them to push us into a corner! If he wasn’t going to get what he wanted, then he wanted you dead!’
‘No,’ Abbie moaned, but the tone of grief in her voice led Knight to think that she believed it.
As if feeling the eyes on him, Shaw snapped his head around to face the man who had tried to stop him.
‘You probably think I’m a sick bastard, don’t you?’ he said.
Knight was gagged, so he let his eyes speak for him.
‘It wasn’t me who came up with this plan!’ Shaw shouted, slapping at his chest. ‘It was her bloody dad! And it wasn’t me who killed the girl! That was that prick Waldron. All I did was do as the Duke said, like when we were in the regiment, and now I’m the one left holding the bucket! I’m the one who’s going to go to prison!’
He seemed to sag as he realised how compromised his situation was. In an instant he became calm. Almost remorseful.
‘I’ve got no choice now,’ he told Knight. ‘I’ve got to cut my losses and extract. I’m sorry.’
Knight knew what the man’s next words would be before he said them.
‘I’ve got to kill you.’
Chapter 40
Shaw stalked towards his bound prey.
Knight’s eyes went wide as they fixed onto the blade in the man’s hand, the hunting knife looming as large as a samurai sword. Despite the burning agony of his wounds, Knight tried to stand, desperate to fight no matter how doomed his cause.
Shaw saw his struggle and hissed, ‘Stop moving! You want to go out in pain, or you want it quick? Just shut your eyes and I’ll make it quick!’
But Knight had no desire to go quietly. The thought of never seeing his children again was enough to give him the energy to rock back onto his shoulders and propel himself forwards, his feet connecting with Shaw’s chest.
‘You stupid arsehole!’ Shaw raged. ‘For that, you can bleed out slow!’ He took hold of Knight’s struggling legs in one hand and prepared to drive home his blade with the other.
And then the window shattered.
Chapter 41
Morgan put every ounce of his strength into hurling the rubbish bin at the dirt-covered window. The metal smashed the single glazing with ease. Knowing that his moment of surprise would be measured in milliseconds, he was already throwing himself through the opening before the dust had settled, shards of glass tearing at his clothing and skin.
He hit the floor and went into a shoulder roll. He instantly took in the room at a glance, seeing Abbie bound but unharmed on an old sofa and Knight a moment away from death at the hands of the wild-eyed Shaw.