“And yet here you are, Jeremiah. Here you are in your fetid little cubbyhole with your grubby hands round her throat. Do you think this is how she would want to die? Do you think this is how anyone would want to die?”

“No,” says Jeremiah meekly.

“I thought you were better than this. I thought you respected me more.”

“I’m – I’m sorry, Mr Gant. I was weak. I saw her, I put her down, I was going to give her over to you, I was. But … but Mr Gant, I haven’t killed anyone like this in a long time.”

“I let you kill ordinary people. Isn’t that enough for you?”

There’s a pause as Jeremiah hesitates. Danny wipes his hands on his trousers, and takes a grip on the sledgehammer. It isn’t as wide as he’d like, because of the cuffs, but it’s a firm grip nonetheless.

“What?” Gant says, irritated. “Out with it, for heaven’s sake.”

“You said you’d let me kill the next one,” Jeremiah says quietly.

“You’re not ready, Jeremiah.”

“You always say that.” He’s almost whining now. “When will I be ready?”

Gant adopts the tone of a disappointed parent. “I don’t know. Up until a few minutes ago, I would have said soon. Very, very soon. Maybe even today. I was so close to letting you do this one. But after this … after this, Jeremiah, I just don’t know any more.”

“Mr Gant,” says Jeremiah, and he’s crying, “Mr Gant, I’m sorry.”

Danny takes another peek.

Gant is looking down at Valkyrie. “I need to know I can trust you, Jeremiah.”

“You can,” says Jeremiah. “I promise you can.”

“I don’t know. I don’t think so.”

Gant turns away a little more and Danny sees his chance. He runs in, swinging. Jeremiah hears him and ducks under the sledgehammer, but all that does is clear a path right to Gant’s face.

And it’s like he’s swung the hammer into a metal pillar.

The shock of the impact wrenches the sledgehammer from Danny’s hands and he cries out and staggers back. The hammer clatters to the floor and Gant shoots Danny a smile.

Jeremiah roars, charges, takes Danny off his feet. They go down, the big man’s weight on him. Danny barely has any fight left. Jeremiah brings out a knife from somewhere. Danny grabs Jeremiah’s wrist with both hands, but not fast enough to stop his arm from being nicked. They struggle with the blade. Gant doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t even move.

They roll across the floor, Danny finding reserves of strength he never knew he had. Gant doesn’t follow the fight. He’s just standing there, smiling and not moving.

No, wait, he is moving. But very, very slowly.