“You haven’t got time for this. Do what you need to do. I’ll wipe the camera,” Henry instructs.
“I don’t need to kill anyone,” I mutter, pulling my gun and addressing a driver who has climbed out of a red Range Rover.“No white knights today, sir. I suggest you get your arse back into the car and go to your next business meeting.”
“I’ll-I’ll call the police,” he says.
“They are already on the way,” I reply. “Now get in your car.” I pull the trigger, the bullet missing him but scaring him enough to realise I’m not pissing about.
I quickly unlock the door to the cheers of prisoners.
I see Roman sitting in the middle, his face devoid of emotion.
But I don’t release him first.
Instead, I unlock everyone but Roman. I stop inches from him; he holds up his cuffed hands and I pull off my helmet.
“Tell me you’re not fucking about. Look me right in the eyes and tell me this isn’t a play, Roman.”
“This isn’t a play.”
“Where’s the hard drive?”
“Free me first.”
I hesitate, staring at him, searching his face, looking for anything that tells me he’s lying.
“If you fuck us, I will find Saskia myself and I’ll put a bullet in her head.”
“Blood pays with blood. You hurt mine, I’ll hurt yours.”
“Two minutes. You’re cutting this too fine,” Henry says.
I unlock his handcuffs and grab his shoulder, clasping my hands into the pressure point between his neck and shoulder.
He winces, fighting against the excruciating pain, desperately trying to keep his features neutral. “You will never see her again if you threaten me again or mine,” I vow.
“But you can threaten mine?” he says through clenched teeth. “I’m not fucking with you.”
“I’m sorry if I don’t necessarily take your word at face value. You betrayed your best friend.”
“And you know why.”
“No, no I don’t. Not really,” I say shaking my head.
“You don’t have time for this, Lucy,” Henry says through the earpiece.
“This is a private conversation, Bishop.”
“Then don’t do it on an open fucking comms channel.”
I let go of Roman as the distant sound of sirens starts to filter through the thick tension. The other prisoners have scattered already. Roman looks over my shoulder.
“You’ve let a load of criminals who are all being tried for being pretty much the scum of this country out.”
Roman stands, and I follow him out the van whilst pulling my helmet back on, my eyes still streaming. We jump down and climb onto my motorbike.
“Do you need me to drive?”
“Fuck off.”
