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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

Angela was still frantically tapping her biro on the desk as she listened to this. She took her time before answering. ‘Jesus, Jenny, that’s a lot to take in. I suppose it’s plausible. Have you written it up in your report?’

‘Well, do you have another explanation? Because I don’t. And, yes, it is in my report. I’m about to send it to the Chief and the DG.’

‘Okay. Good work, Jenny. Look, I have to go. We’ve got a situation here. We’ve managed to run Luke inside the target group in Essex, but they’ve taken his comms off him and he’s gone dark on us.’

‘Not the first time he’s done that.’ Jenny and Angela had once spent an entire lunchbreak in the Service canteen comparing notes about how bloody exasperating Luke could be to work with.

‘This is different,’ Angela replied. ‘It’s mission-critical. If we can’t re-establish comms with him, we’ve no hope of stopping these people before it’s too late.’

‘How long has it been?’

Angela glanced up at the digital clock on the wall. It was nearly 11 p.m. ‘It’s coming up to two and a half hours now. That’s since the Thames House driver dropped him off to meet the contact. Luke had a GPS tracker sewn into his jacket. They didn’t find it, as far as we know, but they made him do a complete change of clothes.’

‘Shit. That’s not good. These people are ruthless, Angela. God knows what they’ll do to him if they see through his cover.’

‘Yes, thank you for that. You think we don’t know this? We’re all worried witless about him.’

103

Near Braintree, Essex

Sunday, 20 March, 2255hrs GMT

SWIMMING. LUKE WAS swimming. At least, that was what it felt like. He was back at Poole on the Dorset coast, at the SBS base, doing his underwater lengths of the indoor pool in boots and kit. He was holding his breath and kicking out. Up above him the surface wobbled and shimmered, but there was something bad up there, something dangerous, something he desperately needed to keep away from. He tried to stay down, but it was no good, he had to come up for air, rising slowly to the top. And at that moment, breaching the surface of that imaginary swimming pool, Luke Carlton regained consciousness.

The back of his head throbbed with pain from where they’d hit him. His arms were pinned back, spread eagled, straining the muscles in his shoulders almost to breaking point. He tried to crane his neck round to one side to see what was restraining them. And it was only then, in that awful moment, that he saw what they had done to him while he was unconscious.

They had put him in the cabin and tied him to the canisters of live Agent X.