He wouldn’t desert Karene and Harry’s children, though. He didn’t have it in him. That realization brought a fresh wave of optimism.

Ahead of her, on the rear deck, she saw two sets of military boots.

‘You’re in charge now,’ she said to the foot soldier. ‘You decide. What sort of man are you going to be? One who lashes out without good cause, or one who’s clever and understands that sometimes making friends with the enemy is the best course of action?’

The foot soldier adjusted his gun against his body and for the first time placed his finger on the trigger. ‘I told you to shut up.’

Bloom took in so much detail during that final moment. She saw a bead of sweat slide slowly down the foot soldier’s forehead. She saw his teeth clamp together in a grimace. She watched the tendons in his hand flex and then flatten. And she saw his finger trembling on the trigger.

She closed her eyes.

The sound of the bullet exploding from the gun silenced every other sound. She could no longer hear the helicopter blades. She braced herself for the impact and prayed it wouldn’t hurt.

And then she heard Sophie screaming.

Bloom opened her eyes and looked directly into those of the foot soldier. They were no longer detached, or cold, or anything at all. They stared unseeingly back as he fell to the floor, an exit wound there in the young man’s forehead.

97

Jameson waited in the bank manager’s poky little office. He checked his phone. No missed calls. No messages. He sent a quick text to Captain Tessa Morrisey saying, ‘Any news?’ A few moments later he received a reply, saying, ‘Boat located. SBS boarding now.’

He felt a wave of relief even though he knew this wasn’t over yet. Not until they had confirmed Karene, the children and Bloom were aboard and alive, and their capturers apprehended or neutralized. He still called Caroline Peterson.

‘I just heard they’ve found the boat and are planning to board it anytime now.’

‘Are they on it? Are they OK?’

‘I’ll let you know the moment I hear. This is good, Caroline. These guys are the best. They’ll get your children back.’

The bank manager returned as he hung up the phone. ‘OK,’ she said taking a seat. It transpired the woman had a brother in the army and as soon as Jameson mentioned the terrorist attack at Devonport Naval Base she proclaimed that she’d seen the story in the press about the officer who’d lost his memory. After that she was more than helpful.

‘A security box was leased by Harry Peterson at our Peterborough branch.’

‘Peterborough?’

‘Is he not from around there?’

‘He lives in St Albans and works in London.’

‘Well he opened the bank account and the security box on the same day.’

‘And which day was that?’