Harry changed course and followed the fresh tracks—two large sets of impressions and one narrower and less deep. Assessing the differences in prints, he determined two men of medium to tall height and one shorter male or female had recently gone this way. It was possible these individuals were wild camping, but that was unlikely due to the weather forecast. The crunch of sticks came from ahead on the trail. Then voices.

Harry slipped into a thicket and waited.

Gilmont, followed by a tall beanpole of a man carrying a rifle, passed the thicket where Harry crouched. Harry’s hand went to his waist holster, and he withdrew the Glock. He could get off a round before the rifle pointed his direction.

He inched forward, sweeping his gaze across Gilmont’s body for concealed weapons.

“Professor.” A woman with turquoise-streaked hair trotted down the trail. “What am I supposed to do with the boy next? Richardson and Joe said it’s my turn to handle things.”

Harry’s lungs froze mid-breath. They had Sammy?

Gilmont did an about-face, a scowl marring his features. “Do anything you’d like, Callie. Just don’t leave any traces.”

Red bottled fury colored Harry’s vision.

“When we finish, where should we meet you?” Callie asked. “Our mobiles aren’t receiving.”

“You heard what the boy said; Agent Taylor is near the river. That’s where I’ll be,” Gilmont replied as though speaking to a four-year-old. Without waiting for Callie’s response, Gilmont stomped away, and the tall, gawky man trailed close behind.

Harry hesitated, internally shredded. If he followed Callie, he could save his son. But by tailing Gilmont, he could protect the woman he loved and bring Gilmont down once and for all. Either way, Harry lost.

MI6 had sent him in to retrieve an agent and, if possible, take Gilmont into custody. But son or no son, morally, he couldn’t let a defenseless child die. Yet, chances were high that Elise—in her condition—was no match for Gilmont and his minions. Normally, Harry wouldn’t have worried. Elise’s body had been licensed to kill, but he’d witnessed her recent attempt at a roundhouse kick. Her skills were not up to par.

With his emotions knotted in a mass of agony, Harry trailed Callie. If he could extract Sammy quickly, there was a chance he could reach Elise before Gilmont did. After all, he could swing back and take advantage of the jet suit. Gilmont was on foot.

Moving up the rise, he followed Callie to the section recently harvested by the forestry commission. Earlier, Harry had bypassed this sector, due to its lack of cover. Tree debris lay everywhere among the newly planted saplings. The acreage looked like a bomb had gone off.