and even from some distance away she could see that his eyes were cold and alert. She didn’t like the fact that she couldn’t see the hand that was squashed beneath him, and she shouted at him to bring it out from under his body, working hard to keep the tension out of her voice.
He didn’t move. Just stared at her with those cold eyes.
‘Do it!’ she snarled, aiming the Glock directly at his chest.
The sirens were getting closer now.
The man smiled at her.
And then, in one whip-like movement, he brought the gloved hand up from beneath his body, already pulling the trigger.
Tina fired back twice, hitting him in the chest, leaping out of the way at the same time as his bullets whipped past her, conscious of the sounds of automatic weapon fire and shouting coming from the other side of the car.
As she hit the ground, landing on one shoulder, the man was already bringing his gun round to fire again, the two bullet holes in his chest smoking from where they’d struck his body armour. There was no fear on his face, simply a look of contempt, as if she was little more than a fly to be swatted away.
Tina cracked off a third shot, more in desperation than anything else, hardly having time to aim it at her target.
And struck lucky.
The bullet hit him in the neck, knocking his gun hand off balance so that when he pulled the trigger, his own bullet passed over her head.
A look of surprise crossed his face, as if he hadn’t been expecting that, but he was up on his knees now, still holding on to his gun, and Tina wasn’t taking any chances. She fired again.
This time the bullet struck him in the forehead. He wobbled for a moment, and the look of surprise on his face seemed to melt away beneath the blood running down it, and then, without a sound, he tumbled sideways on to the tarmac, and stopped moving.
Tina was on her feet in an instant, which was when she saw the cop rolling on the ground and clutching his shoulder, his MP5 beside him. Ten yards beyond him, Fox was running into the trees, holding a pistol, but she could see by the stiff, awkward way he held his upper body that he too had been hit.
Shaking with tension, she raised the gun and aimed at Fox’s running figure, knowing it was completely illegal to shoot a suspect who was running away, and knowing too that if she killed him, the secrets he claimed to know would stay hidden for ever. But he was already disappearing into the undergrowth, and she knew she’d never hit him from where she was.
And then she heard it. The sound of an approaching helicopter, coming in fast. Fox couldn’t escape now. He was trapped.
Even so, the adrenalin was tearing through her at such a rate that she couldn’t even think about not pursuing him.
Shouting to the injured cop that help was on the way, she took off after Fox.
Fox ran fast, ignoring the pain in his arm from the gunshot wound and the nausea that was trying to envelop him. He wasn’t the type of man to give up, even though it was now clear his plan had failed. It had always been hugely risky, but he’d come so close that it hurt to fall at this, the final hurdle.
The sirens were coming from all directions, but it wasn’t them that concerned him. It was the sound of the helicopter coming in fast somewhere ahead of him. Soon it would pick up his body heat and track him until he was finally cornered.
There was no way he was going back inside. How could he? There’d never be another opportunity like this one to escape their clutches. They’d throw away the key this time, and never move him outside the prison walls again. He couldn’t have that.
But things weren’t quite finished yet. Fox was nothing if not resourceful, and there was one last chance to snatch success from this situation. It was slim in the extreme, but what choice did he have?
He slowed down, hearing the sound of footfalls in the trees behind him.
It was time for one final throw of the dice.
Seventy-eight
21.36
Tina sprinted through the woods, Glock in hand, hunting round for Fox. She’d already caught several glimpses of him running ahead of her, one arm hanging loosely by his side, but now, as she came over a slight incline, looking down towards where the wood ended and open fields began, she could no longer see him. The trees were bare and spaced a few yards apart, and aside from the odd holly bush and bed of ferns, there weren’t many obvious places to hide. She slowed down, working hard to keep her breathing quiet, keeping her finger tight on the Glock’s trigger.
‘Drop the gun,’ a voice called out to her side, cutting through the noise of the approaching helicopter.
She turned as Fox emerged from behind a tree a few yards away, pointing his gun at her face. He took two steps forward, and even in the near darkness she could see that his face was contorted with pain.
‘It’s the end of the road,’ she told him. ‘There’s no way you can get out of here now.’
‘I can, with your help. Now, I’m only going to say it one more time. Drop the gun.’
But she didn’t. Instead she turned and raised it so it was pointed at his chest. ‘And I told you. It’s over. You’re surrounded. There’s nowhere you can go. And don’t even think about trying to take me hostage. It happened once a long time ago. I’m not going to let it happen again.’
‘I could shoot you right here.’
‘I could shoot
Out of the corner of her eye she could see the bright swirl of flashing blues lighting up the woods as reinforcements finally arrived. They’d be following her trail through the woods any minute now. All she had to do was hold her nerve.
They were suddenly bathed in the glare of the helicopter’s searchlight. Fox squinted up towards it, then glanced towards the field at the end of the wood, about fifty yards distant, before turning back to Tina.
‘I’m not going back inside,’ he said, almost plaintively.
She could see a change in him now. The determination in his features was gone. Now he just looked thoughtful. It was clear he was contemplating his options and concluding that, like it or not, she was right: he didn’t have any.
‘It doesn’t have to be thirty years’ hard time,’ she told him. ‘We can still come to some arrangement.’
This time he managed a smile, though there was no humour in it. ‘No, I think we’ve gone too far for that now, don’t you?’
‘If you cooperate, some good can still come out of this.’
‘Not for me it can’t.’
‘Give me the names of the people we want, Fox. What do you owe them? Nothing. They’re not the ones facing years and years in prison, are they? But they’re happy to hang you out to dry. Come on. Don’t protect the people behind this. Think of yourself.’
Fox shook his head dismissively. ‘You don’t understand, do you? I’m fighting for a cause. I always have been. And it’ll live on long after I’m gone. I’m not going to betray the people still fighting for it.’
‘Bullshit. It’s over. Can’t you see that? You’ve failed. Your friends have failed.’
He looked at her, his lip curled in a dismissive sneer, and Tina imagined it was the look he’d worn as he’d killed the hostages inside the Stanhope Hotel. ‘You’re wrong. We’ve only just begun. And the next time you hear from us, it’ll be from a place you least expect. You won’t even know we’re there.’
To one side of her, Tina could just about make out a line of half a dozen black-clad armed officers approaching them, moving quickly but carefully, all of them with weapons outstretched.
