‘Right. The other guy was here to kill you. I’m not. You get that? I’m going to deal with that wound, and you’re gonna tell me why he was here to kill you. Answering will save your life. Understand?’

He took the Glock out of his mouth and pressed it against his head.

‘I got no fuckin’ idea, man.’

‘Don’t fucking waste my time. Who’s your enemy? Who’s your target?’

Jefferson still looked blank, but he wasn’t about to give it up.

‘Give me a name.’

He stared back into Tom’s eyes, cold and clear. Okay, thought Tom, have it your way. He took a step back so as not to get blood spattered over him, raised his weapon and took aim.

‘Zuabi.’

‘Zuabi? What’s that?’

‘Mullah Zuabi.’

‘Where?’

‘The fucking mosque. You—’

‘What mosque? Where?’

‘You fucking white traitors . . . brainwashed . . . destroying our— ’

Jefferson lashed out with his good hand, only this time there was a knife in it. In the semi-darkness of the unlit interior, Tom had missed it. He sprang back but there was nowhere to go, and he smashed into a closet, breaking off the door – just as the blade sliced through the arm of his jacket. Every instinct said, Fire, but he resisted. He had come this far, he had to get more out of him. He wasn’t done.

He smashed the knife hand with the Glock repeatedly until the weapon fell to the floor.

But in a mammoth display of brute strength Jefferson reared up and lunged. Tom slipped in the pool of blood growing on the floor and lost his balance, his head slamming back onto the wall cabinets in the cramped kitchen area. He felt himself sinking, the Glock slipping from his grip as Jefferson prised it away and turned it on him.

But he didn’t fire. The muzzle shook wildly and Jefferson started to convulse, his tongue thrust out in a bloody mass as his teeth chewed into it, his eyes wide, swivelling uncontrollably as if loose in their sockets. The Glock dropped to the floor and Jefferson’s whole body flexed in a mad manic dance until he crumpled in a heap.

Tom struggled up and started to get his breath back. As he reached for the Glock he saw he wasn’t alone.

‘Easy now.’

Kyle was at the door, his weapon pointed straight at him.

Chapter 52

52

Kyle had overheard Tom’s exchange with Jefferson. ‘Like I told you, we just do the job. We don’t ask why. That’s not part of the brief.’

There was an empty look in his eyes.

Tom struggled to move. ‘For fuck’s sake, Kyle. What is this shit?’

‘Too many questions.’

‘Just listen a moment. Let’s calm down, shall we, and talk this through?’

But Tom could tell that wasn’t going to happen. He dived out of Kyle’s line of sight just as he fired.