In the split second it took Peterson to steady himself before shooting, Knox pulled the shard from his thigh and lunged at Peterson, driving the onyx into his stomach as he shoved the gun away from him with his other hand. Peterson’s finger pulled the trigger, sending a bullet into the carpet as he doubled over. Then Knox pulled the makeshift dagger out of Peterson’s side and plunged it into his neck.

Peterson tried to say something as he fell to the floor, but whatever it was just came out as a bloody gurgle. He landed first on his knees, then on his side. By the time his head hit the suite’s deep-pile carpet he was dead.

Knox stumbled over to Bennett. She didn’t look good. Her shoulders had dropped, her hands had fallen into her lap, and her eyes were half closed. Her breathing was shallow. He pressed his hands against the large red stains on her side. The fresh pressure brought her round, and she stared at him. A thin smile curled her mouth.

‘Looks like we got there in the end,’ she said in a whisper.

‘Who said anything about the end?’ Knox replied, matching her smile.

He heard the click of a lock. The door to Valera’s bedroom opened and she cautiously stepped out. She looked down at Knox and Bennett, then walked slowly over to where Peterson’s body lay.

‘Is he dead?’ she asked.

‘Yes,’ Knox replied. ‘You’re safe now.’

Valera looked at the folder that was still on the desk, then at Peterson again.

‘Who are you?’

‘MI5.’

Knox could tell Valera’s mind was racing to understand what was happening.

‘So was he,’ she said, after a pause. She nudged the Beretta out of Peterson’s mortis grip with her foot. ‘What will happen now?’ she asked.

‘I don’t know,’ Knox said, turning back to Bennett to check that she hadn’t passed out again. ‘But there’s plenty of time to work that out.’

‘No,’ Valera said, her voice suddenly very hard, ‘there isn’t.’

Knox twisted round just in time to see her lean down, pick up the Beretta, and shoot him in the chest.

As Knox slumped down next to Bennett, a fresh blood bloom staining his front, Valera dropped the gun next to Peterson, picked up the folder, and walked out of the suite.

Chapter 63

Chapter 63

Knox knew where he was before he opened his eyes. He recognised the quiet hum punctured by distant footsteps and beeps, the smell of bleach masking other odours, and the rough cotton sheet tucked tightly under his arms. He forced his eyelids apart. It felt like a long time since they’d closed as he slid down the wall of Peterson’s hotel suite, blood seeping from his chest and thigh.