‘What the hell was that all about?’ Itchy’s voice buzzed with static in Silva’s helmet as they rode into a brightening sky. ‘Did Mrs Collins just reinvent herself as some kind of fixer?’

‘I’ve no idea.’ Silva grimaced to herself. There was something going on between Mrs Collins and her father, but what it was, aside from possibly fulfilling each other’s sexual needs, she didn’t know.

They put a couple of dozen miles between themselves and her father’s place before Silva suggested they pull over and take a break. They headed down a lane and bumped the bikes through a gate and into a field. She pulled her helmet off. Talking on the bike-to-bike headsets was one thing, but she couldn’t think straight while she was riding and they needed some sort of plan.

Itchy kicked down the stand on his bike and waited for orders. As if Silva knew what the hell she was doing.

‘Well?’ he said after a minute.

‘I don’t know, Itch.’ She looked at the dawn sunlight filtering through a nearby hedgerow. ‘I always thought Fairchild was bullshitting about a global conspiracy. It seemed straight out of a Dan Brown novel. But those two men back at Dad’s place suggest he’s not far short of the mark.’

‘If we’re up against the US government – hell, any government – we might as well turn ourselves in now.’

‘Perhaps I’m wrong. Perhaps Karen Hope has a few people on her dodgy payroll. If she’s happy to pay for somebody to kill my mother then bribing a few agents would be par for the course.’

‘Sean.’ Itchy fiddled with his helmet. Stared at the ground. ‘Could he…?’

Itchy didn’t finish the sentence but he didn’t need to; Silva had already played out the chilling possibility in her head that Sean could somehow be involved with Hope. He’d certainly been enamoured with her. Was it pushing the bounds of possibility to think she’d recruited Sean to her side? Silva knew it wasn’t. Sean was a patriot, and if Hope had appealed to that part of him he’d have been with her.

‘Silvi?’ Itchy had his head up now and he met gaze. ‘He wouldn’t, would he?’

‘I don’t know.’