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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

The bench was just feet away. Now – it had to be now. What he did, in this split second, would decide whether he lived or died in this room. Too late they spotted the spanner and Niamh let out a shout. ‘Watch out! Stop him!’ But Luke was ahead of them. With an explosion of speed and a surge of anger, he catapulted himself forward to where the spanner lay, his right hand shot out to grasp it and, knowing Sean would be behind him, he whirled round. Using the momentum of the knifeman’s charge, Luke drove the spanner hard into his windpipe. There was a sickening gurgle as Sean dropped the knife and began feverishly scrabbling at his throat. Eyes bulging in shock and terror, he swayed on his feet. Luke didn’t wait to watch the result of his deadly handiwork. Propelling himself forward, he snatched up the knife and hurled himself at the second man, slashing and stabbing in a frenzied blur, his survival instincts driving him forward in an ecstasy of pent-up violence. Blood spurted from the man’s neck in a crimson arc, but Luke wasn’t done yet. His senses were alive and on fire, ignited by all the bottled-up fear and tension of the last hour.

He spotted Niamh scrambling to reach the door. He had to stop her. Everything depended on him covering the distance between them. He hurled himself across the room and threw his weight hard against the door just as she was prising it open. Grabbing her hair, he heard her gasp as he dragged her head back, exposing her throat. He brought the knife up in one swift, fluid motion.

105

Near Braintree, Essex

Sunday, 20 March, 2336hrs GMT

NIAMH’S STRENGTH SURPRISED him. He could feel her muscles flexing as she twisted and turned, struggling to escape. Luke’s voice rasped as he spoke into her ear. ‘Stop moving, Niamh,’ he commanded, ‘or I will cut you.’ He pressed the tip of the knife against her neck, enough to draw a bead of blood. He felt her gasp and her struggling stopped. He needed her alive if he was to stand any chance of getting out of there.

‘So, listen up,’ he growled. ‘This is what’s going to happen. We’re going to walk out of here, you and me, through the warehouse and out of the gate I came through. Got it?’ Her breath was coming in heavy wheezes and it was a while before she grunted her consent. ‘You’re going to order your people to back off and if you – or anyone – try to stop me, I’ll use the knife.’ Luke swung her round, forcing her to look at her two accomplices. Both lay still. Sean’s expression was a frozen rictus of pain while the other man lay face down in a widening pool of blood. ‘I’m not pissing about here,’ he told her.