‘The main heat signature’s coming from the engine block,’ said Luca.
Lockhart knew what that meant. That the engine had recently been running.
‘Does it look like the target’s van?’ he whispered.
‘We’re not sure, boss,’ replied Khan. ‘But it’s definitely a van, the outline’s visible.’
‘Any people?’
There was a brief silence before Khan spoke. ‘Can’t see no one.’
‘Not in the front seats, at least,’ Luca added. The implication was clear for Lockhart. Every second could count, now.
‘How far from us?’
‘About four hundred metres, almost directly east of you, sir. More like a hundred metres from you, ma’am, and a bit north,’ Luca told Smith.
‘Right,’ Lockhart said. ‘We need to get there right now. Max, scope it out and we’ll be there fast as we can. If you hear an attack in progress, do what you have to do.’
‘Got it, guv.’
He turned to Green. ‘Let’s go.’ He pointed into the mass of dark trees. ‘That way. Follow me.’
‘I’m with you,’ she replied.
Lockhart didn’t doubt it.
They began to run.
This was the moment. Here they were, now, in the back of his van. A more comfortable place to wait, he’d told her. The part about it being comfortable was true, at least. He’d kitted it out pretty well, made it like a mini-mobile home. There were cupboards and storage units running floor to roof along one side, a folding bed for when he needed to sleep here, chairs, and a gas hob for cooking. He’d even installed a little sink, which had come in very handy for keeping the place clean. As had the linoleum tiles he’d laid down.
‘When will the horse be here?’ asked the girl.
His heart was hammering. ‘Oh.’ He gave a little laugh, heard the nerves in it. ‘My friend’s on the way; he texted to say that he had a problem with his horse box.’
‘But you don’t have a phone,’ she replied. ‘So how did you get a text?’
‘I do,’ he protested, though she’d caught him out. ‘It’s in the front.’
‘Is the horse really coming, Mr Morris?’
‘Yes. I promise. Cross my heart and…’ He swallowed. ‘You know.’
‘Hm.’ She rocked back and forth in the small chair. She was getting impatient. He had to act now. But, as with the others, surprise was crucial to make it as quick as possible for the little ones. To avoid the kinds of injuries that might give him away. Bites, scratches and the like. And so he didn’t have to see their faces.
‘Why don’t you get yourself a drink from the cupboard there?’ he suggested. ‘I’ve got cans of Coke inside.’
‘I don’t want a Coke.’
He let out a slow breath. She wasn’t the only one getting impatient. ‘Tell you what,’ he said. ‘Take a look in there, and you might just find a little surprise.’
‘Really?’ Now she seemed interested again.
‘Yeah.’
‘What?’
‘Chocolate…’ he tried.
‘Yes!’
‘Go on,’ he urged. ‘See if you can find it.’ He just needed her to stand up and turn around.
She stared at him a bit longer, head cocked, like she was trying to work out if he was playing a trick on her. Finally, she jumped to her feet and spun to face the cupboards.
‘Which one?’ she asked, opening the nearest door. It was full of clothes, and she had a quick rummage before closing it again. She hadn’t looked long enough to see they were children’s clothes, items he’d gathered from the lost property stores at the school and the sports centre. He was sure some of them would fit her, later…
‘Try another,’ he said, reaching for his plastic skipping rope.
Her back was still turned. She opened a second door, peered inside.
He stood, took a step towards her.
Wound the rope once around each hand.
Raised it up.
Ninety
Lexi did a lot of sport, but the quarter-mile dash through woodland behind Dan, adrenalin pumping through her body, had left her gasping for breath by the time they reached the vehicle. They slowed to a jog and could see Max Smith standing some way back from the large, dark van that was parked well away from the road, shielded by trees. Lexi couldn’t see any lights on in the cab and the rear windows were blacked out. Apart from the sounds of her own ragged breathing – which she was trying to control – it was eerily quiet. She shivered at the thought of what might’ve happened in the back of that van over the past three weeks. And what might be happening right now.
Max crept over to them. ‘I’ve confirmed it’s Sweeney’s van, guv,’ she whispered. ‘Make, model and reg all match.’
‘OK.’ Dan nodded. ‘Anyone inside?’
‘I could hear voices in there a minute ago, when I got here. Sounded like a man and a girl… but I couldn’t make out what they were saying.’
‘No indication he was attacking her, then?’
‘No. So, I didn’t want to try the doors or announce myself, in case it spooked him.’
‘All right.’ Dan was holding the crowbar in one hand, the night vision scope in the other. He surveyed the vehicle rapidly. ‘I think we need to open it up.’
Lexi’s heart was pounding, her palms sweaty despite the freezing night.
‘I’ll take the back doors,’ he said. ‘Max, there’s a sliding side panel, you cover that.’
‘Guv.’
They moved as silently as possible to cover the doors. As they got closer to the rear, Lexi heard some movement from inside the van. Then a muffled sound, like someone trying to speak, but unable to get their words out…
Lexi’s throat tightened. She glanced at Dan. He didn’t hesitate.
Jamming the tip of the crowbar between the rear doors, level with the lock, he ripped it back with one big, powerful movement and the right-hand door came loose. He grabbed it, threw it open, then did the same with the left. They stared. And Lexi couldn’t believe what she was seeing.
‘Holy shit!’ she cried. ‘Gabriel!’
Standing inside the van, facing them, was her trauma patient, Gabriel Sweeney. In front of him stood a small, thin girl. Lexi could see the yellow cord around her neck, which she was clutching and clawing at with her little hands as Gabriel pulled her towards him. His eyes met Lexi’s. She couldn’t see hatred or coldness in them, just sadness. Maybe even remorse.
He blinked a few times. ‘What are you?—’
‘Please, Gabriel, just let her go.’ Lexi tried to keep her voice calm, although what she was seeing filled her with an intense mixture of horror and fear that was taking over her body. She knew those were normal responses to witnessing a life or death situation. She told her clients – had even told Gabriel – about them all day at the clinic. But, right now, she was the one who had to deal with those emotions. To master them if she wanted to make any difference here.
‘I can’t,’ he gasped. ‘I’ve got to…’
‘No, you don’t,’ she said. ‘You still have a choice.’
Lexi took a step towards him, raised her hands in the non-confrontational stance they always taught at the hospital for de-escalating. She could hardly imagine a time when her words would be more important than now. But her mouth felt dry, her tongue heavy.
‘Let her go, Sweeney,’ growled Dan beside her. He was still wielding the crowbar like a weapon.
‘Don’t come any closer!’ barked Gabriel. His grip on Paige tightened a little. He nodded at Dan. ‘Put that thing down, OK?’
‘Let her go,’ Dan repeated.
‘Dan, please,’ said Lexi. ‘Do as he says.’
He grimaced, hesitated, then held the crowbar up and tossed it to the side of the van. Lexi watched from the corner of her eye as Max moved slowly over to it, picked it up quietly. It was obvious that Gabriel had no idea she was there. Lexi returned her attention to him, her palms still held open.
‘Gabriel,
listen to me,’ she said. ‘I know you believe you’re doing the right thing here.’
‘It is…’
‘And I understand that the kid in you – the one you told me about, that went through so much – wants to be saved. That it’s what you’re trying to do here… saving Paige, like you believe that you saved the others.’
‘They’re in heaven, now.’ His voice was tight, but she noticed his grip around the girl’s neck loosen a fraction. ‘They’re safe.’
‘They’re dead,’ Lexi said softly. ‘But, just think. When you were a little older than them, you were able to get away from a hard life, to make things better for yourself. To help people you care about.’
‘But, that was different, that was before…’ he tailed off.
‘Imagine what kind of a life she might be able to have if you let her go,’ urged Lexi. ‘She can go to school, she can learn. Think of what she might be able to accomplish. The people she could help, just like you did.’
‘It’s too late for that. For her, for all of them.’ Gabriel was becoming a little tearful. Lexi knew she was reaching him.
‘No, it’s not.’ Lexi lowered her voice, kept her tone gentle and empathic. ‘I know how much pain you’ve experienced, but the answer isn’t to inflict it on others.’
‘I’m saving them from pain,’ he replied. She saw his facial features crack for a second, like he was going to break down crying. Then he regained control again. ‘Hey! What are you doing?’
‘Nothing,’ replied Dan. He’d moved slightly to one side and Lexi guessed he could now signal to Smith. She hoped he wasn’t going to charge in, not when she seemed to be making progress. She needed to keep Gabriel engaged in conversation. The longer she could do that, the more chance she had of reaching him. Of talking him down. And of protecting Paige.
‘Don’t move!’ yelled Gabriel, his body suddenly rigid again.
‘OK, you’re the boss,’ said Dan, holding his palms up.
‘Gabriel,’ resumed Lexi, ‘this isn’t going to change what happened to you. We can do that, together, in our sessions. But Paige is one person who you have the chance to save, by letting her go.’
‘The world’s an evil place,’ he countered, pulling the girl a little closer. ‘And she was born at the bottom of it, just like me. She’s doomed. It’s only a matter of time. So why not stop all that suffering?’
‘It doesn’t have to be that way,’ she said. ‘You’re in control.’
Lexi sensed the tiniest movement beside her. A slight gesture of Dan’s hand, perhaps. She couldn’t be sure. She had to stay focused on Gabriel. Their eyes locked for a moment and Lexi could almost feel his anguish. She could see that a part of him didn’t want to do this.
Then a pop sound came from the side of the van and Gabriel jerked his head around towards it.
‘Hold on!—’ cried Lexi.
But Dan had already leapt inside the vehicle.
Ninety-One
As soon as Smith had broken the lock on the side panel of the van, she flung the door away from her. It slid open smoothly on its runner to reveal the scene which she had been picturing for the past few minutes as she listened to Dr Green trying to talk her patient out of his murder attempt. It had taken every ounce of willpower that Smith possessed not to burst inside the van to rescue Paige Bradley, but she’d waited for the guvnor’s signal and – perhaps more importantly – his crowbar. She barely had time to react, though, before everything changed.
In the second that it had taken Sweeney to turn his head and register her forced entry at the side door, Lockhart was up and inside the van, rushing at Sweeney. As the murderous bastard lifted his hands to repel the guvnor, the cord loosened from around Paige’s neck and Lockhart half-shoved her towards Smith as he tussled with Sweeney.
Smith grabbed Paige by the arms and pulled her out of the van to safety. She was trembling and had a dark line around her neck where the ligature had been wrapped, but she was breathing, albeit with difficulty. Smith wondered if the girl had already sustained damage to her windpipe or hyoid bone; either way, she clearly needed medical help.
‘Mo!’ she shouted into her earphone mic. ‘We need a paramedic here on the hurry up. Urgent medical attention for a young female.’
‘We’ll call it in right now,’ replied Khan. ‘Hold tight, yeah?’
Smith put her arm around Paige’s narrow shoulders, an instinctive reaction to seeing the poor girl sobbing, gasping for air and rubbing slight fingers against her neck. Glancing into the van, Smith saw that Lockhart appeared to have the upper hand on Sweeney, pressing him into a set of shelves at the far side of the interior. She wanted to help the guvnor, but it looked as though he had it under control. She’d back him against most people. She turned to Paige.
‘Are you OK, love?’ she asked.
The girl whimpered, biting her lip, but managed a nod. She reached out and hugged Smith, who was careful to give her enough room to breathe.
Then an almighty crash came from inside the van. Smith’s head snapped up to see the vehicle rocking on its wheels and the entire shelving unit lying on top of Lockhart. The guvnor wasn’t moving, while the smaller Sweeney was somehow managing to squirm free on the floor.
‘Guv!’ she shouted.
Lockhart moaned. He was pinned to the ground. Smith released Paige from her embrace and moved to block the side door. But she was a fraction too late. Sweeney charged at her, clutching what she could now see was a yellow skipping rope – the ligature he’d used to attempt Paige’s murder just moments ago – and barrelled into her, knocking her down.
Smith quickly got to her feet in time to see Sweeney disappearing away through the trees and deeper into the woodland. Should she give chase or help the guvnor?
Before she could decide, a third, more urgent option presented itself. Beside her, Paige had stopped breathing regularly and appeared to be going into shock. Smith helped the girl to lie down and gently tipped her head back and chin down to open her airway. Her breathing was slow and shallow, but Smith knew she just needed to keep her stable like this until the medics got here. She whipped off her jacket and laid it over Paige’s little body to help keep her warm. Then Smith grabbed her earphones, which had come loose, and barked into the mic.
‘We need backup, Mo! Sweeney’s heading west into the woods. The guvnor’s down too, inside the vehicle, injured. And we still want those paramedics for Paige!’
She’d barely had time to put the earpiece back in and catch the end of Khan’s affirmative reply when a creaking, grinding sound got her attention. Her head whipped round to the van, where she saw Green bending low, her hands gripping the top of the shelving unit. She was standing directly above Lockhart, grunting and growling with effort.
Smith had no idea the psychologist was so strong. For a couple of seconds, she watched in awe as the young women deadlifted the entire shelving unit from on top of the guvnor, driving it up with her legs and freeing him. Smith had heard stories of people displaying superhuman strength in life-or-death situations, but this didn’t look like a freak occurrence. Green roared as she got her body underneath the shelves, now effectively squatting the unit and pressing it upwards. The guvnor half-crawled, half-dragged himself away below her. Green gave one final push to set the shelves upright, then released her grip.
‘You OK, guv?’ Smith called out.
‘Fu-uck,’ groaned Lockhart. ‘Yeah, I’ll live.’ He rubbed his collarbone and ribs, then began hauling himself to his feet.
Smith instantly returned her attention to Paige, checked her breathing. Still too slow, but steady, at least.
‘You’re going to be fine, love,’ she said. ‘Help’s coming really soon, I promise.’
Paige blinked, met her eyes for a few seconds, then closed them again.
‘Which way, Max?’
The guvnor had jumped out of the van and was standing beside her now.
‘There’s backup on the way,’ she replied. ‘And I guess the drone’s sti
ll up…’
‘Just tell me where he went.’
‘That way.’ Smith pointed into the darkness. ‘Guv,’ she cautioned, ‘are you sure?—’
But he was already sprinting.
Ninety-Two
Lockhart lurched almost blindly in the direction that Smith had indicated. Tree branches raked his chest and face, his arms flailing to push them aside as he half-ran, half-stumbled through the woods. He’d lost his night vision monocular in the van, and his eyes hadn’t yet adjusted to the gloom. He couldn’t see Sweeney up ahead or make out any obvious trace of him on the ground. No footprints, no snapped vegetation, no discarded items or scraps of torn clothing.
Still moving, he fumbled around his collar and replaced his earphone. It was silent.
‘Mo?’ he whispered. If Khan could give him directions, he might have a chance of catching Sweeney.
There was no reply. Lockhart stopped, took out his phone. Its screen was smashed. He stabbed at it and pressed the buttons, but it was dead. He swore to himself and shoved it back into his coat pocket.
Lockhart tried to think. He’d tracked people in forests, even at night, when he was in the military. What had they taught him on the SERE – Survive, Evade, Resist, Extract – course? When one sense was denied to you, use the others. Sound and smell, mainly.
Sweeney had been wearing cologne. Lockhart took a lungful of air but couldn’t register the scent. He checked the wind direction and found that the breeze was gusting away from him, removing any small chance he had of following Sweeney’s scent.
Lockhart shut his eyes and listened instead. It was possible this delay was giving a serial murderer the opportunity to escape. But, in the absence of comms with Khan and guidance from the drone, it was his only choice.
He waited.
He could hear leaves rustling, the rattle of a train in the distance.
The loudest noise he registered was his own pulse, pounding in his temples.
Then a different sound came.
It was faint, but distinct. A scuff and a swiping noise from up ahead and off to the right. Lockhart opened his eyes, his gaze following the sound. He tried to locate its source, but could see nothing. Was it just an animal? He couldn’t take that chance. He ran towards it.
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