The clock on the dashboard showed that six minutes had passed since their arrival before an ordinary, grey, nondescript hatchback turned into the car park. It had felt like six hours.
The car pulled into the space beside theirs. Niccolo flicked the safety catch on his gun and held his breath.
A squat, burly-looking man wearing a red cap got out of the driver’s door.
Niccolo and Georgia squeezed hands in unison. He put the safety catch back on and relaxed his hold on the gun.
“Ready?” he asked.
“I bloody hope so,” she muttered back.
“Then let’s do it.” He opened his door and stepped out. The man had left the hatchback’s engine running.
“Any issues I should know about?” he asked the man casually as they strolled past him.
“None.”
And that was the extent of the conversation. No more was needed.
A brown leather holdall had been placed on the hatchback’s passenger seat. While Niccolo made quick adjustments to the driving seat, pushing it back as far as it would go to accommodate his long legs, Georgia rifled through the holdall, plucking out one of the two burner phones they’d been promised.
“Everything’s there,” she said, relief ringing in her voice. “Do you want to call Dante now?”
“Let’s get out of this town and then call him.”
With a nod of thanks at the driver, who was now in the Land Rover and moving the driver’s seat forward so he could reach the pedals, Niccolo put the hatchback in gear and set off to the airfield, following the route preprogrammed into the satnav for them.
A side-eye of Georgia’s flat as they drove past showed nothing out of the ordinary.
Finally, Niccolo could breathe.
“Everything went as planned Dante’s end?” Georgia asked once Niccolo had ended his call to him. As with all their other conversations, she’d understood not a word of it.
Indicating to turn onto the motorway, he nodded. “The dogs have been taken care of and will be in no position to speak to their masters until we’re long gone from this country.”
“Hurt but not killed?” she clarified, not because she quailed at the thought of their lives being snuffed out but because any death increased the likelihood of police involvement. This was suburban England. You didn’t just hide dead bodies here and expect people not to notice.
Georgia had no idea what her future held – no idea if she evenhada future – but she knew she didn’t want to spend it under police investigation.
She’d never imagined she could be so emotionally blasé about the potential ending of another’s life, but those men had been in her flat, waiting for her, and not because they wanted to enjoy a nice cup of tea with her.
“Broken bones but no broken necks,” he confirmed.
Three days ago, the thought of anyone’s suffering would have made her heart ache, not make it gladden, but that was before her life, Niccolo’s life and the life of their unborn child had been threatened. But then, three days ago, the thought of inflicting any form of physical injury on a person, as she’d done to Niccolo when she’d thought he was one of the Espositos’ dogs, would have horrified her.
She supposed this was what motherhood did. Turned you into a tiger. Made you more than you were.
“Did he say if any of the Espositos were there?” she asked.
“He would have mentioned it if they were, but it was always unlikely. It seems the family is staying tight and getting their dogs to do their dirty work until the funeral.”
Which was coming in two days. Endgame day.
It went without saying that if the dogs captured them before the funeral, they would be smuggled to the family. The dogs wouldn’t do any of the real dirty work. The real dirty work was for the Espositos to enjoy.
The private airfield took them forty minutes to reach. They were expected.
The legalities were taken care of on the short walk to the small jet waiting for them. In less time than it took Georgia to walk from her car into the airport terminal when making her duty visits to her parents, she was seated on a plush leather seat with so much legroom that even Niccolo could comfortably stretch his legs out. They’d barely strapped themselves in before the jet was taxiing down the runway. Minutes later, they were in the air, and Georgia could finally breathe.
