Sam raised his voice and stepped forward, crunching Sinclair’s bullet ridden foot under his boot. Sinclair howled in agony.

‘Fine. Get off,’ Sinclair insisted, and Sam obliged. ‘It was pretty easy, really. Build a trail of investigation into the Riders, skimming dangerously close to them. Sykes and Vasquez agreed for Sykes to hit the deal, make it look like I was shot and killed, the body taken from the scene.’

‘So, you could disappear?’ Sam leant on Alex for support, the blood from his battered eyebrow smeared across his face.

‘Exactly. Vasquez has enough to launch an attack on the Riders, Sykes takes the throne, and a partnership is made.’ Sinclair shook his head in disgust at his own actions. ‘Everything planned meticulously. Everything planned and prepared for. Except you.’

‘And Alex?’ Sam demanded, the gun in his hand pointed squarely at Sinclair.

‘Someone needed to corroborate it all. She was desperate, which gave me leverage. Sykes fast tracked her to The Pit. We put the deal in place, and Alex would have been the witness to Sykes hitting the deal and putting a bullet in my head.’

Sam stamped forward once more, crunching Sinclair’s damaged foot against the dirt. The disgraced agent rolled over in agony, screaming for mercy.

‘It’s because of people like you, that people like me exist in the first place.’ Sam shook his head in disgust and put his arm around Alex. ‘He’s all yours, Joe.’

Sam nodded to Alan, shot Wyatt and Mason a cautious look, and then draped his arm over Alex’s shoulder. They turned to walk away, not before Sinclair recomposed himself, a final stand before the pain got the better of him.

‘Joe. Listen to me.’ Sinclair scrambled towards his former partner. ‘There is a way out of this. Arrest these men. They are wanted criminals. All the evidence is here. Dead rivals. Money. A deal gone wrong. We could be heroes, Joe. Think about it. Think about what it would do for your career.’

Wyatt chuckled and flicked his cigarette while Mason shook his head in disbelief. Sinclair reached out to Alan for support, but Alan took a step back.

The point was made clearly.

‘Why did you do it?’ Alan demanded. ‘Thirty years, Terry. Thirty years of towing the line, fighting the fight. Why now?’

‘Because he’s a greedy son of a bitch,’ Wyatt chipped in.

‘I’m not greedy,’ Sinclair snarled. ‘I just wanted what I deserved. Thirty years of dealing with scum like you. Criminals. Like. You. And what do I have to show for it, huh? What will it get me? A fucking golden watch and a state pension. I spent my life putting people like you where they belong, and I sacrificed everything to do it. This was my way out. A way to move on, live in comfort and enjoy whatever is left of my life.’