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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

Luke knew he was still in extreme danger and far from being free. His best chance – his only chance – of getting clear was to take Niamh with him as a hostage. She appeared to be the brains and the driving force behind what these psychos were planning to unleash.

Awkwardly, clumsily, they stumbled through the door and out into the main body of the warehouse, Luke pushing Niamh ahead of him, the blade of the knife still held against her throat, while he gripped the collar of her jacket with his other hand. For two or three seconds, nothing happened, no one moved. Then it was as if an electric shock ripped through everyone in the room and stunned silence changed to uproar. Looking left and right, Luke saw several steroid-pumped, tattooed thugs moving in on him. He had to stop them in their tracks.

‘Back the fuck off!’ he roared. ‘Anyone comes within ten metres of me and I cut her throat!’ He hissed quietly in her ear, ‘Tell them.’

Through gritted teeth, Niamh called to the gathering crowd surrounding them: ‘Do as he says.’

Now Luke moved fast. He hadn’t seen any firearms yet, but some of them must be tooled up. Gripping Niamh close to him and the knife to her neck, he kept moving forward, swivelling his captive from one side to another as they made their way to the door that led to the outside world and freedom. He needed eyes in the back of his head.

The moment they reached the door things fell apart for Luke. Releasing his grip on his hostage so he could open the door, he felt her trying to twist free. And a roar of rage rose behind him as they rushed him. With no time to think, instinct kicked in. He whirled Niamh round so she was facing her followers and, with near-surgical precision, he stabbed the knife just once between her shoulder blades. He felt it cut through the material of her jacket and she screamed as it pierced her flesh. Not a killing blow, but it worked. Luke’s pursuers stopped in their tracks. As Niamh slumped to her knees, clutching behind her, trying to reach the wound, Luke let her go, pushed his way through the door and ran. He sucked in great gulps of cool night air as he sprinted for the gates up ahead, his booted feet pounding on the wet, uneven tarmac. Even in the dark, he could see they were closed, guarded by the man in the hoodie. Luke swore and tightened his grip on the knife.