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Chapters (124)
  1. Cover
  2. About the Author
  3. Acclaim for Frank Gardner’s Luke Carlton thrillers
  4. Also by Frank Gardner
  5. Dedication
  6. Epigraph
  7. 1
  8. 2
  9. 3
  10. 4
  11. 5
  12. 6
  13. 7
  14. 8
  15. 9
  16. 10
  17. 11
  18. 12
  19. 13
  20. 14
  21. 15
  22. 16
  23. 17
  24. 18
  25. 19
  26. 20
  27. 21
  28. 22
  29. 23
  30. 24
  31. 25
  32. 26
  33. 27
  34. 28
  35. 29
  36. 30
  37. 31
  38. 32
  39. 33
  40. 34
  41. 35
  42. 36
  43. 37
  44. 38
  45. 39
  46. 40
  47. 41
  48. 42
  49. 43
  50. 44
  51. 45
  52. 46
  53. 47
  54. 48
  55. 49
  56. 50
  57. 51
  58. 52
  59. 53
  60. 54
  61. 55
  62. 56
  63. 57
  64. 58
  65. 59
  66. 60
  67. 61
  68. 62
  69. 63
  70. 64
  71. 65
  72. 66
  73. 67
  74. 68
  75. 69
  76. 70
  77. 71
  78. 72
  79. 73
  80. 74
  81. 75
  82. 76
  83. 77
  84. 78
  85. 79
  86. 80
  87. 81
  88. 82
  89. 83
  90. 84
  91. 85
  92. 86
  93. 87
  94. 88
  95. 89
  96. 90
  97. 91
  98. 92
  99. 93
  100. 94
  101. 95
  102. 96
  103. 97
  104. 98
  105. 99
  106. 100
  107. 101
  108. 102
  109. 103
  110. 104
  111. 105
  112. 106
  113. 107
  114. 108
  115. 109
  116. 110
  117. 111
  118. 112
  119. 113
  120. 114
  121. 115
  122. Epilogue
  123. Acknowledgements
  124. THIS IS JUST THE BEGINNING

‘Yes, Luke, I do.’ Elise folded the napkin neatly into a triangle and laid it on the table between them before she looked him straight in the eyes. ‘I think you should know,’ she said quietly, ‘that I’m pregnant.’

79

Domodedovo Airport, Moscow

Thursday, 17 March, 0130hrs GMT, 0430hrs local

NOT A WINK. Not one minute of sleep on that overnight flight from London. Jesus, he was tired now. Usually Luke had no problem sleeping on planes. Learning to grab a few minutes’ kip whenever you could was a skill he’d had to learn as a recruit going through basic training down at the Commando Training Centre at Lympstone. Yet all night, as he flew eastwards across a darkened Europe, his mind was wired and buzzing as it tried to process this news.

Pregnant. Elise was pregnant. He kept running the words over and over in his head. What did that mean for them now? Well, for a start, he was to become a father. Part of him felt elated about that. He could see himself on a Saturday morning in years to come, kicking a ball around the park with his son, teaching him to swim underwater, taking him rock-climbing, doing stuff together – that it might be a girl wasn’t really on his radar. And at the same time he also had his nagging doubts. This could hardly have come at a worse time. He and Jenny were right on the front line of an ongoing national crisis: he couldn’t afford to let himself be distracted. But what would happen when he returned from the mission? Should they get married? Did people still get married? Lots of his military mates had gone down the aisle and then he’d watched their marriages fall apart. Too much time away on operations, too hard to relate to normal life when they got back. And where should they live? Did this mean moving out of town into somewhere bigger with a garden? That might just have to wait a while, given his not-overgenerous MI6 salary and her modest pay packet at the Stratford Gallery in Mayfair.

No. On balance, Luke felt deeply uncomfortable about this news. Worse than that, he felt ashamed that he was not more excited about it. But the fact was Elise had delivered this bombshell just as he was leaving for one of the most sensitive and vital missions of his career. And this was no time to be thinking about what colour to paint the nursery.