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car to materialise. It turned into the leafy street they were in and came trawling slowly toward them. King stepped out into the middle of the street, putting a frantic look on his face. The car slowed.

He pulled the Glock and rounded to the driver’s side, pulling Violetta behind him.

He tapped the window with the barrel.

It came down, revealing a middle-aged woman with dyed blonde bangs and too much concealer makeup. She was scared out of her mind.

He said, ‘Get out.’

She nearly had a panic attack fumbling with her seatbelt. But she managed, and threw the door open, and stepped out of the car.

‘Thanks,’ King said. ‘You got insurance?’

She nodded, clearly unsure if she was dreaming or not.

He said, ‘You’ll be okay, then. Thanks again.’

He guided Violetta into the driver’s seat, and then rounded the hood and slipped into the passenger’s.

Leaning across the centre console, he said, ‘Apologies.’

The woman said nothing.

He nodded to Violetta. She drove off.

Five seconds later, her phone rang.

She instinctively reached for it, withdrawing it from her pocket.

King saw the contact name: Will Slater.

He took it off her hands, and answered with silence.

Five minutes later, after a revelatory conversation, he hung up and put the phone in his lap.

She said, ‘Can I talk now?’

He said, ‘Not until we pick up Will.’

‘I can explain.’

‘Did you hear me?’

‘Shoot me,’ she said. ‘I know you won’t. You wouldn’t dare. You’re a good man.’

‘I’m a morally rigid man — that’s what I am. If I’m convinced you’ve betrayed me and tried to aid the capture and execution of my best friend, I won’t hesitate to kill you. No matter how much you mean to me.’

She didn’t respond.

He said, ‘If you want to test that theory, by all means start talking.’

She didn’t.

She knew him.

She knew it’d tear him apart, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t do it. She knew, perhaps better than anyone, how he was willing to ruin his own life to preserve his integrity. He did it every operation, for Chrissakes. Got cut and shot and beaten to a pulp to protect others.

He fed the address Slater had given him into the Land Rover’s GPS unit and told Violetta to follow it.

He kept the Glock’s barrel aimed at her the whole time.

He settled back and considered the timing. He figured he had at least a few hours before everything went ballistic. The tactical team would miss their next check-in, but that wasn’t automatically the end of the world. It’d take some time for reinforcements to be called out. The three operators still alive were trapped in their tape cocoons. It didn’t matter how strong or tough they were — they weren’t getting out of their restraints.

So a few hours, at best.

After that, he stopped thinking entirely. He found it best in times of maximal stress. His whole world had collapsed, he might have to kill the woman he loved, he and Slater had ostracised themselves once again. It was chaos. It’d tear him apart at the seams if he dwelled on it.

He focused on the breath. In and out, in and out. That was all.

Twenty minutes and one bridge crossing later, Violetta pulled up in a quiet, grungy section of Brooklyn. There were twenty-four hour pizza joints and diners and laundromats and pharmacies and bottle shops.

She sat patiently, both hands on the wheel, unnaturally calm.

She’d composed herself on the drive.

Compartmentalising just as well as he could.

Thirty seconds later, a man in a hooded sweatshirt and a leather jacket stepped out of a nearby alleyway.

King had never seen a colder expression on Will Slater’s face. His eyes were ice. His mouth was a hard line. He made straight for the Land Rover, threw the rear driver’s door open, and got in behind Violetta so King could look back at him diagonally.

King said, ‘Rough day?’

Slater eyed the Glock in King’s lap, angled up at Violetta. ‘For us both.’

Violetta said, ‘Can I speak now?’

King saw something dark flash in Slater’s eyes.

Slater said, ‘The first thing out of your mouth better be a promise to call off the threats on Alexis’ family.’

‘I’ll do you one better than that,’ she said. ‘I’ll make a different kind of promise.’

‘I don’t want a different kind of promise.’

Violetta looked across, staring deep into King’s eyes. He felt he could see through to her soul. She was laying it all bare. She wasn’t lying.

She said, ‘Yes he does. Convince him to listen.’

King looked over his shoulder. ‘Listen. Even if it leads nowhere. It’s worth listening.’

He could see Slater using every ounce of forged willpower to stay motionless.

King turned back to her. ‘Better be good.’

‘It’s good,’ she said. She twisted round in her seat, so she could look straight at Slater. ‘I got Alonzo to falsify official documents that I fed to my superiors. The address they have for Alexis’ parents leads to an abandoned warehouse in an industrial estate in Bradford. Every trace of their official records has been buried. You’ve seen Alonzo in action. He’s the best. They’re safe.’

Slater stayed motionless.

Violetta said, ‘So let’s go get her.’

66

Slater refused to let relief wash over him.

He wasn’t about to lower his guard until all was well, and all was certainly not well yet. But at least the pure despair receded. It wasn’t a desperate ploy on Violetta’s behalf to save her own life. She knew he was technologically savvy. He could gain access to public records, corroborate her story, figure out whether she was bullshitting or not. She wouldn’t have lied to him. There was no point buying herself more time if all roads led to the same destination.

He said, ‘Give me your phone.’

She handed it over. He dialled Alexis’s number from memory. He wasn’t sure if she’d answer an unknown number.

She did.

Her voice was tentative, and behind it he could tell she was crushed. ‘Hello?’

‘It’s me,’ Slater said. ‘Where are you?’

She didn’t answer.

He said, ‘Alexis. I love you. Where are you?’

‘Still at the Airbnb. I was just about to leave…’

‘Stay there.’

‘What are you doing, Will?’

He bit his lower

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