‘So anyone who won’t take the bite becomes the pre-match snack, is that it?’ She glared at Polar beside her. ‘And I guess you decided you’d rather chow down yourself than be part of the meal.’ Then she paused, as the full significance of Swagger’s words sank in. ‘Troops? Gladiators?’

Swagger leaned in close, nuzzled his big greasy nose in her ear. ‘They’re here to prove themselves, see? Only the strongest, the fiercest, have a place in Takapa’s private army. He’s been recruiting in a dozen states, and the big face-off is right here – with me presiding. This is where we build the real crack force, right here, in New York …’

‘Crack force?’ Kate snorted. ‘Crackheads more like.’

Swagger was oblivious to her scorn. He spun her around to face him. ‘They’ll fight for me, die for me.’

‘Not for you,’ Kate argued. ‘For the drug you’ve tricked Stacy into creating. Once they’re hooked on that filth they’ll do anything for a fix.’

‘That’s right. And only the strongest will live.’ His eyes shone as he stared into the distance, and Kate was glad she couldn’t see what he was seeing. ‘We gotta make fighters out of this scum, gotta make them the best. So we gotta keep them fighting, see? Make them faster, sharper, meaner. Strip out the weak till we got us an unbeatable army, ready and waiting …’

Without warning he snatched the camera from Polar’s hands. The carry strap snapped and Polar gave a weird, high-pitched squeal, like he’d lost a piece of himself. Swagger opened a locker, tossed the camera inside and turned the little key in the lock. Then he threw the key into one of the pens.

‘You’re watching her, now,’ Swagger told him. ‘With your own eyes, not through a lens. Retard.’

Polar slumped his shoulders, and slowly nodded.

Some of the people in this makeshift prison were roused by the clang of the locker door slamming.

‘You bringing us the stuff?’ a man called, and one by one the others began to rise and take up the call. Some even got to their feet, hanging from the rusty bars of their cells, first angry and threatening, but soon pleading and pathetic. All clamouring wildly and violently for their fix.

‘They can shout all they want.’ Swagger shoved Kate out of the locker room into a grimy reception area. ‘But they’ll just have to wait. When they wait, the kick’s even better … and the fighting’s so much sweeter.’

Kate massaged the back of her neck, turned to face him. ‘You’re sick.’

Swagger dropped his voice to a stage whisper. ‘You might want to keep real quiet, now.’ He turned to Polar. ‘Watch her.’ Then he disappeared around a corner.

Kate heard him knock on a door.