TWENTY-FIVE

BELLA

I hadn’t seen her properly, the woman who’d taken me. Two pairs of hands had lifted my chair, carrying me silently from the warehouse as I looked at the back of her head, the way she was watching Jack. I had a funny feeling I knew her from somewhere but unless she turned round, I wouldn’t be able to work it out.

She didn’t turn round. I didn’t see her again until I was dumped in the middle of an airport hanger, looking at a gleaming white plane that was facing me. She brushed past me but I still couldn’t see her face. I could hear her though. She was talking to the man who’d been fighting Jack, his face in the corner of my eyeline.

“The plan stays the same,” she said. “Leave the police to pick him up.”

“But if she’s not there, they won’t have anything on him. You shouldn’t have let him run.”

“I didn’t know he’d run, did I? Don’t worry. A tip off will do the trick. Her DNA will be all over his cellar. Go see if they’re ready to fly yet.”

“What about Geoffrey? We still don’t know where he is.”

“He’ll show himself when he knows I have his daughter. I’ve waited long enough to get him back for taking her from me. I can wait a little while longer. What was that?”

I heard it too. A noise outside the hanger that sounded a lot like a gunshot.

“Go and look. Be careful,” she said.

A pair of hands reached down to my ankles, untying my feet so they were no longer attached to the chair. “Get up,” the woman said, grabbing me round the waist and holding me in front of her, a gun in her hand, pointing towards the door. The man vanished outside. A second later there was another gunshot, then another. The door flung open again as the woman gripped me tightly. A figure staggered in, stumbling forwards. It was Jack. He’d found me.

“I told you it wasn’t over,” he said, blood pouring from his shoulder as he pointed a gun at the woman behind me. “Let her go.”

“I don’t think so,” she replied. “Either you drop your gun or I kill her.”

“You’d kill your own daughter?”

“Want to find out?” She pressed the gun to my temple as I froze in place, crippled by fear.

“All right,” Jack said, loosening his fingers. His gun clattered to the floor. “Now let her go.”

“You shouldn’t have taken the job,” the woman, my mother, said. “You should have stayed retired. Look at you. You’re out of shape, you’re hurt, you couldn’t even keep her safe for a week. You’re a failure, Jack.”

“And you’re a shit mother.”

“That’s the last thing you’ll ever say,” she replied, turning the gun to point at him. “I hope it felt worth it.”

She went to squeeze the trigger. As she did so, I shoved her arm with my bound hands. The shot hit the ceiling and then everything happened at once.

Jack ran towards me, his hands outstretched for her gun. He got his fingers to it, fighting her as she tried to point it towards him again. Over at the door, the other man appeared, limping and covered in blood, his gun waving towards me. He squinted before firing, aiming for Jack. He missed. The bullet struck my captor square in the forehead and she flew backwards, her grip on me gone in under a second. The man stumbled forwards, ready to fire another shot but he’d lost too much blood. He fell on his knees, taking one last despairing look at us before slumping down onto his face, not moving again.

“Come on,” Jack said, grabbing my hand and dragging me towards the door. “Before anyone else comes to say goodbye.”

We got out into the open. I threw my gag away, though I couldn’t get my hands untied yet. In the distance men were running towards us. Jack picked up speed, grunting with pain as he got over to the entrance. There was a car there. Beside it a man was waving. “I helped,” the man said excitedly, pointing at an unconscious security guard next to him. “I had no idea you could knock a guy out with one punch. What do you think?”

“You did great,” Jack said with a grimace. “Now get us the hell out of here.”

We climbed into the back of the car as the man got into the driver’s seat. He set off a second later, racing away and leaving the airfield far behind us.

“We need to get you to a hospital,” I said, pressing my hands to Jack’s shoulder.

“He only clipped the skin,” he replied. “Drake always was a shit shot.”

“I can’t believe you came for me,” I said as he looked at me. “I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.”

“I said I’d keep you safe,” he replied, leaning across and kissing me, his lips making mine tingle with heat.

“Are you allowed to do that on duty?” the man driving asked, glancing in the rear view mirror.

Jack ignored him, his hand wrapping round me. I snuggled in next to him, glad his shoulder had stopped bleeding at last. “What happens now?” I asked.

“I get in touch with your father and we get you out of the country, at least for now. It’s not safe here for you.”

“What about you? What happens to you?”

“I go back into retirement. I’m getting too old for this.”

“Was that…was she really my mother?”

He nodded. “Nice lady, huh?”

“And the other man? The one who shot her? He had scars all over his chest.”

“It’s a long story.”

“I’ve got time.”

“We both worked for your father, long ago. There was a job at the warehouse. It went wrong. Drake got injured. I got a few scars myself that night.”

“Is that why he hates you?”

“He blamed me and your father for what happened. The truth was, it was just one of those things. A hazard of the job so to speak.”

He winced again. “Are you sure you’re okay?” I asked.

“I’ll be all right long enough to get you out of here.”

“What if I don’t want to get out of here?”

“What? What are you talking about?”

“I don’t want to leave you behind.”

“You have to. You won’t be safe here.”

“Then neither will you.”

He frowned, shifting in his seat. “We’ll talk about later. Alf, can you get us to a hotel?”

“Sure thing,” he said, glancing back. “Say, will I get a reward for this?”

Jack leaned back on the seat, his hand sliding round my back before answering. “I’ll see what I can do.”