Now, with his face battered and bruised and his left wrist strapped in a dirty cast, he wondered how much longer it could keep going.

He was built to survive, but eventually, one bullet was going to hit where he couldn’t recover.

Sam slammed the car door shut, adjusting his sticky T-shirt so it lapped over the handgun pressed against the small of his back. His pocket rumbled, and he pulled out the mobile phone, opening the message as he unlocked it.

It was Alan.

Sykes is here. Go time.

‘Shit,’ Sam uttered to himself, before he began to jog the half mile out of town. As had been the case for his entire time in the States, there was no plan.

No way to know exactly how it would go down.

Only this time, he had back-up. A capable marine who had a vendetta that burnt as strongly as Sam’s commitment to Alex.

Whatever awaited Sam when he got to the bar, he would face it head on. Alex had risked her life to save his. That night in Rome had replayed in his mind ever since he’d sat in the airport with Etheridge, saying goodbye to his good friend for what was likely to be the final time. Through the torrential rain, Alex had ignored the pain in her leg, the bullet wound blocked by the tourniquet Sam had created. She’d also ignored his plea for her to drive as far away as she could.

To get home to her family.

But she’d sacrificed her safety and her reunion to save Sam, showing up just in the nick of time to stop Sam’s murderous ex-comrade, Mac, from murdering him.

They’d spent months lying low, with Alex doing her best to nurture Sam back to health.

Back to the fight.

All of it had been built on the promise that Sam would help her get back to her siblings, which Trevor Sims, the odious rat who ran Blackridge, had used to blackmail her.

As his feet pounded the earth, he kept that promise in his mind, knowing that whatever awaited him, he would fight it for her.

This wasn’t his fight anymore.

But he would give his life to fight it on her behalf.

With the abandoned mill looming large in the distance, it cast a long shadow across the surrounding land, beckoning Sam to his conclusion.

* * *

As Alan approached the side panelling that surrounded the mill, he kept himself low to the ground. Halfway up the slight incline, he’d pulled his gun from the holster, sliding his expert finger over the trigger and making a silent commitment to himself that he wouldn’t hesitate to pull it.

He had to restrain himself from taking aim at Sykes as he’d approached the bar, knowing that satisfying his vengeance would most likely cost Alex her life.