The chairman paused for a moment. ‘Foul stuff,’ he announced, before screwing the top back on the flask.

‘Would it be too much to ask for an apology?’ asked Hamish’s wife, as Fraser passed the flask back down the table. Everyone turned to see how the chairman would react to Sara’s suggestion.

‘I don’t think so, my dear,’ replied Fraser coolly, ‘because no one believes for a moment that Hamish has given up drinking. If you doubt me, I suggest you check the contents of your drinks cabinet when you return to your cabin after dinner.’

Hamish didn’t respond, but unscrewed the top of the hip flask and took another long gulp, before screwing the top back on and placing it in an inside pocket.

• • •

Commander Hawksby sat at his desk, thinking about his next meeting and the potential consequences of getting it wrong. He knew they called him ‘The Hawk’ behind his back, which he considered a compliment – but it wouldn’t be too long before he retired and he didn’t want his reputation to be damaged so late in his career. DI Ross Hogan was the missing piece in the jigsaw that would complete the picture.

William Warwick was the natural leader of the team but DS Adaja, impressive though he was, was not ready to take on the role of second-in-command. DS Roycroft wouldn’t have wanted the job, while DC Pankhurst would in time overtake both of them, but not yet.

The Hawk didn’t need to check Ross Hogan’s record. He’d served four years with the SAS, before joining the Met. He’d spent only a couple of years on the beat before taking his detective’s exam and joining the murder squad. Four years later he was among those chosen few to go undercover, where he found his calling. If a group of rebels had formed a gang, he would have been their leader. He had a Queen’s Gallantry Medal, three official warnings, and a suspension for sleeping with a suspect to complete his CV. However, The Hawk knew he couldn’t leave him undercover for much longer. If Ross was ever to return to the real world and still be capable of obeying an order, it had to be before it was too late for him to change his ways. Was it already too late? Would he resign?

Ross had already played a crucial role in gathering enough evidence to convict Miles Faulkner and get him sent down, even going to prison himself to gather the necessary evidence. Even risk-takers considered him a risk-taker.

When Faulkner escaped, Ross had gone AWOL and become even more determined to snap the handcuffs back on him, because he never believed for one moment that Faulkner was dead.

There was a knock on the door.

‘Enter,’ said The Hawk.

Anyone who’d seen the man who walked into Commander Hawksby’s office that morning would never have believed he was a police officer. Dressed in a grubby T-shirt, torn jeans and a leather jacket, Ross Hogan looked more like a bother boy than an upholder of the law.