Kane thought fast. Rory had a predilection for children’s secrets. He also had a spy’s training, alert to stories about Russians turning up where they shouldn’t be. He must have looked a bit closer, connected it to the man who had befriended him, the husband of a US general working on something beyond top secret. Everything Thomas had said to Kane about the island was misdirection. He hadn’t passed on what Connor knew about that night to the police, because he was the man at the tracking station. He killed Petra. And when he learned that Lauren had seen what happened, he’d silenced her, too.

The Buick’s wheels slipped on gravel.

“Slow down, Daddy.”

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. You got your seatbelt on?”

“Yes. Where are we going?”

“I told you. We’re going sailing.”

Thomas moved the gun into his left hand to wipe the sweat from his right on his thigh. Kane’s mind reeled as he tried to decide his next move. How many years had Thomas Lindgren been living a double life? Fifteen, perhaps? Even to survive a month undercover, you have to convince your own heart. You bury a secret deep in your core and then forget it’s there. You pray no one ever opens up a crack in that living facade. Connor had been running from his home just now. If that followed a confrontation over the past, over certain questions that Kane had placed in the boy’s mind, then Thomas knew the threat Kane posed. He knew Kane was the only thing standing between him and escape. The question remaining was whether he’d shoot him in front of his daughter.

“Let’s talk, Thomas,” Kane said.

“About what?”

“Maybe I can help. I owe you one now.” Thomas kept his foot down. The sun had broken from the horizon.

“What did you say to Connor?”

“I didn’t say anything, I asked him some questions. I think both of us need to get out of here. You’ve been good to me. I think you’re a good person. I don’t think many other people are going to be on your side right now.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

A military truck tore past in the opposite direction carrying firefighting equipment. Thomas swung the car out of the way, bouncing them onto rocky ground before regaining the road.

“I’ve seen what you have, as a family,” Kane said. “You can’t fake that. It’s real as anything. I don’t think you can leave it behind.”

“Who are you?”

“You can probably guess who I am.”

“What are you offering?”

“I can get you on an RAF flight, all of you, and we can take it from there. But you wouldn’t have to be separated.”