just get it out.’
‘Sorry.’ Hooligan cleared his throat. ‘It’s Peter, boss. He’s on a bike, and he’s cutting through traffic.’
‘Can he get to Abbie?’ Morgan asked, suddenly more optimistic.
‘He can,’ Hooligan confirmed, checking his screens. ‘He’s going to intercept in one minute.’
CHAPTER 31
AS A MARRIED man Knight had been forbidden by his wife from owning a motorcycle, despite the amount of time it would have taken off his daily commute. In the years following her passing, he had taken up riding as a way to escape London, and to empty his mind of every painful thought as he concentrated solely on the road ahead.
He was in that zone now, weaving and cutting through traffic, the bike’s 850cc engine roaring as he opened up the throttle and pushed through the crawling vehicles.
Knight glanced at the GPS strapped to the bike’s handle. It showed two dots controlled from Private HQ by Hooligan. One was the position of the truck that was assumed to be the kidnapper’s. Another showed Knight’s own location. As he turned onto Horseferry Road, the two dots became one.
‘I see him.’ Knight spoke into the mic in his helmet. ‘I’m going in closer.’
‘Peter,’ Morgan’s voice came through the speakers in the helmet. ‘Just stay on his ass.’
‘How far are you guys from me?’
‘Too far. At least five minutes.’ He heard Cook curse.
‘Then I’m getting tight on him,’ said Knight. ‘If he goes off script and makes a move, I need to be in place to stop it.’
‘Roger that,’ Morgan answered, realising there was no other option, but hating it nonetheless.
Knight eased his way around the final few cars and positioned himself in the blind spot for the truck’s mirrors, seeing that the rear shutter-type door had been secured by a thick, shiny new padlock.
‘Brand-new lock on the truck’s door,’ he told those listening in to his radio. ‘I need to take a look at the sides and confirm this is our guy. Maybe the paint got washed out by the showers.’
Knight edged his bike out to the side of the truck and saw that his hunch was correct – the black of the Jones Brothers lettering was showing faintly beneath the fresh coat of white.
‘This is our guy!’ he said excitedly.
But their guy was a Recon Marine before he was a kidnapper, and as such, Alex Waldron knew something about being scouted as a target. The black bike and its rider had aroused his suspicion, and now Knight saw a thick-jawed brute staring death at him in the wing mirror. He’d been spotted.
And that was when Waldron tried to kill him.
CHAPTER 32
WALDRON HIT A hard left and a right on the wheel, causing the truck’s rear end to shoot out, hoping to send Knight and his bike smashing into the line of cars parked nose to tail at the roadside.
Knight saw the truck’s movement just in time, and with a flick of the throttle the bike’s powerful engine pushed him forward and out of danger. He was now level with the cab. Waldron threw caution to the wind and began to drag the corner of the cab along the line of stationary vehicles. Knight would either be ground between the truck and the cars, or if he hit the brakes and dropped back, another flick of the wheel would send the truck’s rear end slamming into him.
He had less than a second to make a decision that would either save or end his life.
He took it, and with adrenaline pumping through his veins, he made the impossible leap to the rear of the truck’s cab. The bike fell to the tarmac and smashed to pieces under the truck’s wheels.
Somehow, amidst the chaos and destruction, Knight found a handhold, gripping on by his fingertips.
It was enough. Acting purely on impulse and instinct, he hauled himself to safety in the narrow refuge between the cab and its cargo container.
With a soldier’s sixth sense, Waldron had seen the narrow escape of his prey and began to throw the truck into a series of wild manoeuvres in an attempt to shake
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