Moments later, they were both inside, gasping with exertion and sweating despite the cold. Cooper started the car, thankful that he’d reversed into the mine.

‘Thank God for that. Drive!’ said Fry.

A second after she’d spoken, the butt of a shotgun crashed through the window, showering her with fragments of glass. Fry screamed as two barrels thrust through the gap, pointing straight at her head.

Chapter Thirty-Six

Chapter Thirty-Six

There was a long moment, frozen in time, while the fog drifted in through the car window. David Palfreyman stood quite still, his finger tensed on the trigger. Behind him, he could hear the sound of another car approaching.

Suddenly, it had become a different situation. Maybe he’d miscalculated, and made his move at the wrong time. But it wasn’t beyond his abilities to sort out. None of these people were clever enough to get away from him.

‘You two stay there,’ he grunted. ‘And don’t bloody move.’

Cooper raised his head. For a second, he glimpsed Palfreyman at the shattered window, bending down to peer into the car. His shotgun was resting on the glass, both barrels pointing into the passenger seat. If it was fired at that range, in an enclosed space, he and Fry were both dead meat.

But then Palfreyman was gone, stepping away from the car and vanishing instantly into the fog.

Fry had her eyes closed, until Cooper touched her arm.

‘Am I still alive?’ she said.

‘Yes, somehow.’

‘What happened?’

‘I don’t know. Something spooked him.’

Fry looked at him in concern, and Cooper realized that he was shaking as much as she was.

‘What the hell are you waiting for, then?’ she said.

Cooper started the ignition and accelerated across the mud, not bothering with the lights. Because of that, the driver of the car coming towards him didn’t see the Toyota at all, and they smashed head on into each other before Cooper could even get as far as the first gate.

‘Is that our back-up?’ asked Fry, shielding her eyes against the glare of the other car’s headlights.

Then the doors of the Toyota were jerked open, and they both found themselves looking into the wrong end of a nine-millimetre pistol. It definitely wasn’t their back-up.

A few minutes later, Fry and Cooper had been dragged out of their car and pushed into the agent’s house after one of the two men in black balaclavas had shot the padlock off the door. The door was slammed, and they stood behind it, trying to hear what was going on outside.

‘Friends of Palfreyman’s,’ said Cooper. ‘Trying to decide which of them gets the privilege of shooting us.’

‘I hope it takes a long time for them to make their minds up.’

‘Let’s face it, we were outnumbered and outgunned, even when it was just Palfreyman on his own.’

‘That maniac. PC Bloody –’

‘Hold on, Diane.’