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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 kept his cool. Something had clearly gone wrong here, but he would be polite and cooperative and this would all be smoothed over. ‘You have the wrong person!’ he shouted back, so as to be heard. ‘I’m British,’ he added, as they hauled him to his feet. The officer didn’t reply. He turned instead to the plain-clothes officer who had just searched Luke’s jacket pockets and nodded. The man held out his open hand. Resting on the palm were three small polythene sachets, each containing a white powder. No, no, no! This cannot be happening, Luke thought, shaking his head in vigorous denial. I’m being set up here.

‘These are not mine!’ he protested. ‘Someone has put them there.’

The uniformed police officer ignored him. Instead, he very deliberately picked up one of the three sachets and waved it in front of Luke’s face with one hand, wagging an admonishing finger with the other. Even while this was going on, Luke was aware that a crowd had formed around them. People were pointing. Some even had their hands over their mouths in surprise at the drama unfolding before them. It all felt utterly surreal, as if he were playing the lead part in some hammy drama with an all-too-predictable ending. Yet this was real, this was happening. Where the hell was Jenny when he needed her?

Luke saw the uniformed policeman signal to the others and a moment later he felt his shoulders being jerked backwards and the cold metal embrace of handcuffs being snapped into place. Still the music was thumping, a hideous soundtrack to his staged arrest, and now everything seemed to be moving in slow motion. He was aware of the crowd parting as the policemen frog-marched him out of the club. He saw people nudging their friends as he passed. Some had their mobile phones out and were videoing, thrusting their phones into his face. And all the while he was aware of the metal cuffs digging painfully into his wrists. The one thing he could not see was any sign of Jenny Li.

34

Vilnius, Lithuania

Thursday, 10 March, 2010hrs GMT, 2310hrs local

SLEET WAS FALLING in cold, wet splashes when the doors of the blacked-out van were yanked open and strong arms reached inside to manhandle Luke out on to the street. Within seconds his hair was soaking wet and he could feel the icy water starting to trickle down his back. They had been driving for a while, but stuck in the back in the dark as he was, he had absolutely no idea where they had taken him. His phone, passport and wallet had all been removed. Not that he could have reached for them anyway: the cuffs were still in place and now his wrists were worryingly numb where the metal restraints had dug in. This was not a good situation to be in.