Hedgerows lined the dual carriageway. With no desire to clean up an accident, she pulled to the side of the road, and Sammy scampered for the bushes just off the edge of the M90. While he was thus occupied, Elise examined the contents in the 4x4.

No tent. No sleeping bags. No fishing poles.

She flipped back the rubber mat and unearthed a tangled bit of fishing line and a lone hook embedded in the rug. Using her fingernails, she freed the hook and snagged her skin in the process. Thrusting her finger inside her mouth, she continued, one-armed, to dig through the leftover materials inside the vehicle.

A partial tarp lay on the floor behind the passenger seat, sporting several holes. She sighed heavily. It wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing. She folded the blue plastic sheet and laid it on the floor beside the ball of twine her father’s ghillie kept from mildewing by winding it around a wooden sphere.

Luckily, two knives were on her person—her grandfather’s sgian dubh in her boot and a dirk strapped to her thigh. She never went anywhere without them. Her posture slumped, and her stomach knotted. To face a man with unlimited resources, all she had was two knives, her Glock 17, a partial magazine of ammo, and her bow and arrows.

Agent Taylor had lost him in South Queensferry. Gilmont slapped the steering wheel and circled the block where he had last seen her. A lorry cut him off. He laid on his horn and colored the air with expletives. Twisty, overcrowded roads had contributed to this disaster.

Gilmont continued up and down the congested roads, looking for the battered 4x4. He gave up and conceded points to Agent Taylor. The woman had provided him a merry chase up the A7 to Edinburgh.

What better place to hide than in a city? He ought to know; he had done it for the last twelve months. How convenient that he and his prey thought along similar lines. It would make hunting her all the more pleasurable when he caught her.

Gilmont pulled onto the verge and hit the speed dial on his burner. Without addressing Lauren, he said, “I lost her in South Queensferry. You have her number plate. Find her.”

“Professor, I can’t track her right now. My boss is due to arrive any minute. If he catches me, I could lose my job.”

“I pay you an exorbitant retainer, Lauren. I am your first priority. Tell your boss anything you like, but my requests must be met. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

He ended the call. If Lauren did not come through, Danny needed to make an example of her so others did not follow suit. He stared across the road as he contemplated alternative methods of locating Agent Taylor should he lose Lauren’s CCTV tracking skills.