CHAPTER 25

THEY DIDN’T HAVE COMM DEVICES, so there was no way for Callum to keep in touch with his team. They were working blind, and he didn’t know what each of them was dealing with. The team had brought a few weapons with them and Callum had a couple stashed in his house, but it was nowhere near what they would need if they were under a full-scale assault.

His phone buzzed as he ran down the stairs, and his heart surged. Phone. Text. It was better than nothing. He pulled it out. Dimitri.

Three in front.

His phone buzzed again. It was Ryan.

Two back.

Five men.

Callum’s mind was racing as he hurried the women and kids into the basement. The room wouldn’t protect them for long. It wasn’t a proper panic room; it was an old guy’s project that Callum had tinkered with because he’d been at a loose end for months.

His phone vibrated. He looked at the screen. Megan.

Two big-ass cars coming down the drive.

“Who the hell are these people?” Callum muttered.

Elle pulled him aside as they rushed into the underground room.

“I got some information before the backtrace shut me down.” She looked visibly shaken, which didn’t bode well for what she had to say. It took a lot to shake Elle. “I saw the ACAB Militia logo.”

Callum actually felt sick. His eyes shot to Isobel, who was terrified and desperately trying to hold it together for her kids. Jack was scared but clearly determined to help. He’d deliberately positioned himself between his little family and the doorway. Callum felt a surge of pride for the boy. His eyes went to the tiny three-year-old in Isobel’s arms. Sophie’s little thumb was in her mouth as she watched Callum intently. The trust he saw when they looked at him, changed something within him. His life clarified. He’d found his purpose again. It was standing in front of him, and he would do everything within his power to save them and give them the secure life they needed.

“It’s going to be okay,” he told them. “I’ll make sure of it.”

“What’s the ACAB Militia?” Isobel asked.

Callum’s jaw clenched as he quickly decided how much he should tell her. His memory brought up an image of the letters tattooed on the dead guy’s knuckles. He’d thought it was the more common use of the acronym. He hadn’t even considered other possibilities. If he had, they wouldn’t have been in this position. He’d have taken Isobel and her kids far from Arness and called in every resource he could get his hands on to protect them.

But he’d been careless. And now, they were stuck in a makeshift bomb shelter with one of the most dangerous groups on the planet bearing down on them. And Isobel deserved the truth.

“It stands for Anarchy, Chaos, Annihilation and Brotherhood. They’re a group of mercenaries, disenfranchised gang members and self-taught military. They’re guns for hire. Terrorists without a country or a home. They take jobs that cause as much trouble as possible, and they only care about the money.”

“Oh.” Her eyes clouded with tears, and she blinked fast. “Okay. Thanks.”

Callum touched the keypad on the gun safe beside the door at the bottom of the stairs. There were two handguns inside. Not enough to defend them for long. He took one out, inserted the clip and checked the gun. He did the same with the other one before looking at Elle.

“You still practising at the range?” After the Peru mission, he’d made it mandatory for everyone in the London office to know how to use a weapon.

“Yes. I can even hit what I’m aiming at now. Mostly.”

That was good enough. It had to be. He handed her his spare gun. It looked completely out of place in her hand. Blue hair, yellow dress, pink handcuffs, purple Doc Marten boots—and a Beretta. Callum ran a hand over his face and hoped they wouldn’t all die.

Jack put his arm around his mother’s shoulders, his serious gaze on Callum. “What can I do?”

“Protect them. You still have the stun gun I gave you?”

Jack nodded, but it was clear he knew it wouldn’t be enough against the team coming for them.

“Elle.” Callum turned to his blue-haired tech. “You need to get hold of Lake. Tell him he needs to call in everything he has, and get it here fast. Tell him we don’t know what we’re dealing with, but let him know who it is.”

She nodded, pulled out her phone and looked at the screen. “No signal. Hundreds of pounds on a state-of-the-art phone and it won’t work in a bloody basement in Scotland.”

Callum pointed at the wall. “Landline. Old school.”

She rushed for the phone, her eyes wide when she looked back at him. “Dead.”

They’d cut the line. That knowledge rippled through the room, ratcheting the tension up as it went. Isobel started to shiver, and Sophie made a little whimpering noise as she picked up on her mother’s distress.

Callum tossed his phone to Elle. “Mine works on the stairs. You call. I’ll cover you.” He looked at Jack. “Get your mum and Sophie into the middle bedroom. Guard the door and stay there until I come for you.”

Jack nodded and turned towards the room.

“What about you?” Isobel grasped his arm.

“I need to deal with this.”

“Be careful.” Her bottom lip trembled, and it was too much to take.

Callum clasped the back of her head and pulled her in for a quick and deep kiss.

“Wanna kiss too,” Sophie demanded when he pulled back from her mother.

“This is too gross,” Jack said, but there was amusement in his eyes.

Callum kissed Sophie’s cheek. “Be a good girl for your mum. Jack, watch over them.”

Jack nodded, and they ran for the room Callum had been sleeping in. The room he’d been hiding in for the past few months. Well, he was done hiding from life. He wanted to live large and live well, with the woman and kids who’d stolen his heart.

“Let’s get going.” He held his gun tight in his hand.

When Callum nodded, Elle turned the lock and they headed up the stairs, coming to a stop behind the door that led into the kitchen. There was an eerie silence, the sort of ominous silence that occurs right before a storm broke. Callum gestured towards the wooden door separating them from the room beyond. Unlike the one downstairs, this one wasn’t reinforced. He held a finger to his lips.

Elle nodded and, instead of calling, texted. The reply was instantaneous, the vibration loud in the stairwell. Elle replied and Callum stayed alert, straining for sounds that would tell him what was happening. Elle turned the phone so he could read Lake’s reply.

Nearest armed response unit is in Glasgow.

Callum felt sweat break out on his lower back. That was three hours away by road. The phone buzzed again. Texts coming in fast.

Police mobilised. Coming in by air. One hour.

My team one hour later.

Active military regiment in Irvine. They are mobilising. 40-50 mins.

Stay alive.

The phone stopped buzzing. Callum looked at Elle’s pale face.

“They aren’t going to get here in time, are they?” she whispered.

No. They weren’t.

Callum handed the phone to Elle because she was faster with it. “Text everyone,” he whispered. “Tell them to retreat to the basement. Tell them help is an hour away. We’ll defend the basement until it gets here.”

Elle nodded and typed furiously on the tiny screen. She nodded when the message had been sent, and Callum inclined his head, indicating for her to go back downstairs. He kept himself between the upstairs door and Elle as they hurried downward. Behind him, he heard a short, sharp whistle, a warning his team were coming in, and then the door opened. Callum looked up to see Megan hurry through it. Dimitri followed, his gun pointed back into the kitchen, covering his wife.

“Ryan?” Callum mouthed at Dimitri.

He held up a hand to signal he’d be there in one minute. Ryan was obviously up to something, and Callum hoped to hell he knew what he was doing.

They hurried down the stairs. A gunshot rang out above them. Elle stumbled. Another gunshot. And then a massive explosion rocked the house, sending the four of them tumbling down to the door below.

The blast boomed through the basement, making the floor shift and the walls shake. Sophie started to cry, and Isobel held her tightly, shushing her.

“It’s okay, baby. It’s only a big bang. It’s okay.” She looked at Jack, who was facing the door, stun gun in his hand. “Jack?”

“I don’t know what it was.” His lips were a thin grim line, but his hands were steady.

“I should be the one standing guard,” Isobel said.

“Then you should have taken kung fu classes instead of eating cake with the three witches.” He smiled at her, trying to calm them all. Her boy, who wanted so badly to be a man.

“Okay, I agree, you have more skills.”

“And more muscle.” Jack’s attention was back on the bedroom door. “I don’t hear anything.” He cast a worried glance over his shoulder at her sitting on the bed, Sophie curled in her lap. “Should I check?”

“And do what?”

“Medical help if someone needs it?”

“Callum told us not to leave this room.”

“What if he’s hurt?”

Isobel had to swallow back the bile that burned her throat. “He won’t be.” He can’t be.

“He isn’t Superman,” Jack said, but he didn’t sound convinced, and Isobel realised that Callum had become exactly that to all of them—their larger-than-life hero.

“He has bionic legs.” It was the only thing Isobel could think to say. She wanted to reassure her kids, let them know that Callum did have superpowers.

“What?” Jack frowned at her.

“His legs.” She rocked Sophie, keeping her voice calm and soft. “He lost them in Afghanistan and was fitted with prosthetics. They look like something the Terminator would have, all black metal and computer parts. They give him extra strength and power.” That much was true—she’d seen how Callum had used them to destroy the man he’d fought at her house. “And he has all that training. He was SAS. Aren’t they the elite of the armed forces?”

Jack nodded, hope in his eyes. “Yeah. So he doesn’t have anything left of his real legs?”

“Nothing from the thigh down.”

“No way.” Jack looked as awed as she’d felt when she found out.

“I know. He really is Superman. Only he can’t fly. I think.” For all she knew, those high-tech legs had booster rockets built in.

Sophie took her thumb out of her mouth. “Wanna see Clam’s legs.”

Isobel kissed her hair. “I’ll make sure he shows you once this is over.”

There was a thud outside the door, and the three of them stilled. Isobel’s hold on Sophie tightened, and she had to make herself relax before she hurt her daughter. She looked at Jack, who had to be as nervous as she was, but seemed to be a whole lot better at hiding it.

“I’m going to see who it is.” Jack whispered.

“No!” Isobel felt sick. “Stay here.”

“We’re safe in the basement.” Jack didn’t sound so sure. “It could be someone who needs help.”

“No.” She shook her head adamantly. “Stay in here.”

“I’ll just sneak a look.” He reached for the door handle.

A scream stuck in Isobel’s throat. She couldn’t get to him to stop him because Sophie was in her arms. “Jack!”

“It’s okay, I have this.” He held up the stun gun and opened the door a crack.

Isobel’s whole body broke out in a sweat.

Callum! she silently shouted for him.

Jack put his eye to the crack.

It felt like time slowed down completely as she watched her son.

Sophie whimpered and Isobel stroked her hair.

“It’s—”

The door crashed open, throwing Jack back into the room. He landed in a sprawl on the floor. And a man Isobel had never seen before filled the doorway.

“Where is chip?” His accent was heavy and difficult to understand. Eastern European, Isobel thought, but she had no idea which country.

Sophie started to wail as Jack jumped to his feet and aimed the stun gun at the man. With a sneer, the man lunged at her son. Isobel hadn’t even noticed the knife in the man’s hand until it was thrust at her son’s gut.

“No!” she screamed, and rushed at them.

Jack froze, a look of utter disbelief on his face. The useless stun gun fell from his hand. A second later, Jack crumpled to the floor after it.

“No!” Isobel landed on her knees beside him, Sophie still in her arms. “Jack!” She reached for him, but the man grabbed her hair, stopping her.

Complete and utter panic paralysed Isobel. Jack lay sprawled on the floor, his head and shoulders propped up by the end of the bed. His hands covered the bleeding wound in his abdomen and his eyes were wide with shock. Sophie was wailing as she clung to Isobel. The tip of a bloody knife was pressed against Isobel’s cheek. She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t move. All she could do was sit there, frozen in horror.

“Mum?” Jack said

She hadn’t heard that uncertain, shaky voice since he was a toddler, and it jerked her back into action. “It’s going to be okay, Jack. It’s going to be okay.”

Sophie screamed, a siren that wouldn’t stop. Isobel patted her back and tried to shield her with her body.

The hand in her hair tightened. “I ask one more time. Where is chip?”

Two more men came into the room, both armed with handguns. One leaned against the wall, watching with clear amusement. The other stood over Jack.

“What’s taking so long?” The man beside Jack looked down at him and then across to Isobel and Sophie. Calmly, he lifted his arm and pointed the gun at Jack’s head. “The wound is bad, but he might still live. If I put a bullet in his head, he won’t. Answer the question or I pull the trigger. And then I’ll get Arno over there to carve up the little girl.”

Isobel could barely see through the tears streaming from her eyes so fast. “I don’t know where it is. I don’t.”

“He’s going to kill us anyway.” Jack winced as he tried to look up at the man pointing a gun at him. “We know who they are.”

“Do you?” The man seemed amused, but his eyes were blank and hard. “Who exactly am I, boy?”

“Jack, please,” Isobel said, hoping he would stop talking. She wanted the men’s attention on her, not on her children. Her babies.

Jack lifted his chin, his brow covered in sweat from the pain of his injury, but still he was defiant. Blood oozed over his hands and onto his jeans. Isobel sobbed. She was watching her son die while a monster held her in place.

“Jack, concentrate on staying alive.” She looked up at the man with the gun. He seemed to be the leader. “Please, let me help him. I’ll tell you everything I know. I promise. Please, just leave my kids alone.” She was barely able to talk. She needed to get to her son. She needed to shield her daughter. She struggled against the hold on her hair, hoping he’d lose his grip and free her. He only tightened it.

“You’ll tell me everything anyway.” The man pointing the gun at Jack laughed, a cold, dark sound devoid of hope.

“Where is chip?” The guy behind her shook her hard.

Sophie screamed and screamed. There was no calming her, even if Isobel were able.

“I don’t know where the chip is. I don’t. It was on the table upstairs. The one in the kitchen. That’s all I know.”

“Who accessed it?” The man holding her hair yanked it to make her look up at him.

“The computer woman. Elle. I don’t know anything else. I only just met her.” God forgive me for giving Elle’s name to them.

“Is woman still in house?”

“I think so. I don’t know.” She shifted her eyes to look at Jack. He was losing colour fast. There was a grey tinge to his skin that terrified her. And so much blood, everywhere, seeping into his clothes and down onto the rug.

“Mumma!” Sophie wailed.

Isobel swallowed the bile that burned her throat. “Leave my children alone. Don’t hurt them. I’ll tell you everything you want to know. Please, just don’t hurt them.”

“That depends on whether I get an answer to my question or not,” the guy with the gun pointed at Jack said. “Just who do you think we are?”

A gunshot exploded through the room. Isobel screamed. The hold on her hair loosened and the man who’d been restraining her fell to the floor. Isobel flung herself away from him, reaching for Jack, desperate to get to him but terrified to let go of Sophie. She couldn’t see the wound. But Jack had to have been shot—she’d heard it. The guy had to have pulled the trigger. Oh God! Her son had been shot. She reached for Jack, frantic. Sophie wailed, shaking so hard that Isobel thought she might vomit.

Oh God, my children. Save my children.

“I’ll tell you who you are. You’re the fucker who has ten seconds to put down his weapon or I’ll put a bullet through your head as well.”

Isobel’s eyes shot to the door. She blinked hard. The silhouette was massive. Powerful. Confident. Deadly.

Callum!

“Superman,” Jack whispered.