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  ‘We believe so. I need to know everything you know about the security operation. Any weaknesses, especially anything Atkinson wouldn’t know about.’

  Blake shook his head. ‘He designed everything. The surveillance, the traps.’

  ‘The traps?’

  ‘What does it matter now? Some of the area is mined.’

  Lambert stared at the man. ‘You’re serious?’

  ‘The man’s an explosives expert. Oh, Christ, I can only imagine.’

  The van door opened, and Tillman squeezed himself into the back. Lambert relayed the information.

  ‘Fuck me. What the hell were you thinking?’ said Tillman, his voice reverberating around the interior of the van. He opened the van door. ‘Harrogate.’

  ‘Sir?’

  ‘Get this fucker out of here and start working through all the details about his security operation.’

  ‘What about my children?’ asked Blake, as Tillman dragged him out of the van.

  ‘What is it, Curtis? What’s that about the children?’ screamed Blake’s wife as Harrogate led him away.

  As if in answer, Lambert’s phone rang.

  Unknown number.

  ‘Hello, Atkinson,’ said Lambert.

  Chapter 59

  The line went quiet. Lambert waited, Tillman, Tyler and Harrogate staring at him. A breeze had picked up, and a chill ran through him as he waited for the Watcher to respond.

  ‘Congratulations. You worked it out.’ His voice was the same as ever, the accent-free, measured tone, a variation on the way Atkinson had spoken when Lambert had first met him at Blake’s house.

  ‘What do you want, Atkinson?’

  ‘I believe you have something which belongs to me.’

  Lambert was not in the mood for games. His priority was the safety of everyone in Blake’s house, especially Blake’s children and Matilda Kennedy. ‘Blake is here, yes.’

  ‘I warned you not to interfere, Lambert. Didn’t I tell you that at the beginning?’

  Tillman, who was listening along with the other officers, shot Lambert an accusing look.

  ‘What do you want, Neil?’

  ‘I am going to tell you what’s going to happen, Lambert. Negotiation time is over.’

  Lambert ignored him, refusing to give away control of the conversation.

  ‘The house is secure, though I think you already know that. We have Blake’s children here. No one is aware of the situation yet, but that will soon change.’

  Lambert looked over at Blake, who was arguing with his wife.

  ‘You there, Lambert? This is important.’

  ‘I’m here.’

  ‘Nothing gets pass me, Lambert. Do you think for a moment that I hadn’t spotted your DS today? That was a rather pathetic attempt don’t you think? Especially after what I did to your last undercover officer.’

  Tyler stepped towards him, nodding frantically.

  ‘You killed DS Sawyer?’

  ‘I’ve known about him for the last two years. He was getting close so I eliminated him. Did you think it was the Croatians?’

  ‘You need to give yourself up, Atkinson. I know your story and I understand your reasons but this has to end here.’

  Atkinson laughed. ‘You know my story? You understand? How did you respond when people told you they understood about your daughter? You think they understood? Truly empathised?’

  ‘No, I guess not. Tell me, Neil. Tell me the truth.’

  Atkinson sighed. ‘Elaine was the only family I ever had. That’s all you need to know,’ he said, his voice perfectly measured as if he was forcing back his emotions.

  ‘Hurting all those people won’t bring her back, Neil. I do understand that.’

  ‘I’m not planning on hurting anyone other than those who deserve it. You send Blake and his wife over here, and no one else will get hurt.’

  ‘I can’t do that, Neil.’

  ‘Then I am going to start executing his family one by one. And if you’re planning on sending in the two response units I can see on my screens, be warned that the house is loaded with explosives. You’ve read my files, I take it?’

  The scene was spiralling out of control. The guests would soon be getting restless, and it wouldn’t be long before they realised something was wrong. ‘You need to give me something, Neil.’

  ‘I’m going to give you one option and one only. Send Blake and his wife over now, and I will release the youngest child. The others stay with me.’

  ‘Come on, Neil, that’s not going to happen. If you want Blake, then send all the children out.’

  ‘He has to suffer as I did. Five minutes, or the oldest one dies.’

  ‘Fuck,’ said Lambert, as Atkinson hung up.

  ‘We need a negotiator here,’ said Tyler.

  ‘There’s no time for that,’ said Lambert. ‘Do we have marksmen with eyes on the house?’

  ‘Harrogate, get that sorted now,’ said Tyler.

  ‘Would you like to tell me what the hell is going on,’ said Blake, approaching him.

  ‘I’ll tell you what is happening,’ said Tillman, moving towards the man. ‘Because of you, a house full of people, including my officer, and your children, are in severe danger.’

  Blake tensed his facial muscles and kept moving towards Lambert. ‘What does he want?’

  ‘He wants you and your wife in the house,’ said Lambert.

  ‘I bet he fucking does.’

  ‘He offered an exchange.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Your youngest, Melody.’

  Blake bent over at the name of his youngest child. ‘Christ,’ he muttered.

  Despite everything he’d done, Lambert felt a stab of compassion for the man.

  ‘The other three?’

  Lambert shook his head.

  Blake stood straight. ‘I’ll do it but Mary’s not coming. Tell him that and we’ve got a deal.’

  The man walked over to his wife, and told her what was happening. She looked at him as if he’d made an inappropriate joke, then began screaming, punching and kicking Blake, who stood still as the blows rained down on him.

  ‘Long range snipers in place. We have eyes on the front and back doors,’ said Harrogate.

  Atkinson would have planned for every eventuality. They wouldn’t be left an open shot.

  ‘We’re going to send him in?’ said Lambert to Tillman. It was formed as a question out of procedure, but both men knew it was a statement.

  Blake’s wife had stopped kicking and was allowing her husband to hold her. Blake whispered something, and she tried to cling onto him as he moved away.

  ‘Take care of her, officer,’ said Lambert, to the driver of the unmarked car which had stopped Blake.

  ‘Let’s go,’ said Blake.

  ‘I’ll take the car,’ said Lambert. ‘Blake, you sit in the back.’

  ‘We’ll follow in the van,’ said Tillman.

  ‘You’re going to give me a gun, right?’ said Blake.

  Lambert shook his head.

  ‘You can’t let me go in there unarmed.’

  ‘What do you think you’re going to do with a gun against a team of soldiers?’

  ‘If I can get to Atkinson, I could end it.’

  ‘It’s too late for that, Blake.’

  Atkinson called as they were approaching Blake’s house. ‘We have a deal?’

  Lambert pulled the car over. ‘Blake has agreed to take the place of his daughter. The wife stays here. Let the girl go. Tell her to walk to the main gate and Blake will meet her.’

  Atkinson didn’t respond and for a second Lambert feared he’d hung up. ‘If anyone else follows Blake down the driveway then Kennedy will be executed with immediate effect, followed by the Blake children. There will be no second chances.’

  ‘Understood.’

  Atkinson hung up. As Lambert stepped out of the car, he heard a struggle on the other end of his earpiece.

  ‘You, here,’ said a voice to Kennedy.

&n
bsp; ‘You’re armed,’ said Kennedy, for Lambert’s benefit. She sounded calm and in control, which was a small comfort.

  ‘She’s wired,’ said a second voice. ‘Find it.’

  ‘No,’ said Kennedy. It sounded as if she was struggling with one of the guards. Seconds later, the line went dead.

  ‘Shit,’ said Lambert.

  ‘The girl has been released,’ said Harrogate who’d left the van along with Tillman and Tyler. ‘We have eyes on her now, making her way slowly up the drive.’

  ‘You better get going, Blake.’

  ‘Give me a gun, for pity’s sake.’

  ‘We’ll do what we can,’ said Lambert. ‘Go.’

  Blake hesitated before moving off into the distance. Lambert followed twenty paces behind, making sure Blake didn’t run away. He kept to the shadows and was able to watch as Blake punched in the key code to the steel gates.

  ‘Daddy?’ came a voice, confused and distant.

  Blake bent down and kissed his daughter, and whispered something in her ear.

  ‘Mummy,’ she said, leaving the entrance to the house, the gate sliding shut.

  Lambert moved towards the girl who stopped, frozen to the spot. ‘Melody,’ he said, softly. ‘My name is Michael. I’m a policeman and a friend of your daddy’s.’ He showed her his warrant card, as if that would convince the girl. ‘Your mummy is waiting for you. Can you come with me?’

  Blake’s face was pressed up against the steel gates. ‘It’s okay, baby. You go with the policeman.’

  The girl took Lambert’s hand, as Blake turned away and began walking towards the house.

  ‘Eyes on Blake,’ said Harrogate, as Lambert handed the girl over to one of the plain clothes officers.

  ‘Blake’s approaching the door. Door opening,’ said Harrogate.

  ‘We’ve just sent a man to his death,’ said Tyler, pointing out the obvious.

  Lambert’s response was cancelled out by the roar of an explosion in Blake’s house. Lambert shielded his ears from the deafening sound, as the heat and smoke from the explosion filled the night air.

  Chapter 60

  The blast was enough to send Lambert falling to the ground. He pushed himself up only for a second and third blast to knock him over again.

  Tillman, Tyler and Harrogate had followed him and were scattered across the street. ‘Everyone okay,’ asked Tillman, dragging Lambert to his feet. ‘All response units in now,’ he screamed into his radio.

  ‘Are you okay, Glenn?’ asked Lambert. His superior’s eyes were sunken and devoid of animation. He was talking into his radio but was acting on impulse. ‘I think you may have shock.’

  ‘Bullshit. Let’s go.’

  They stopped at the entrance to Blake’s house, too stunned to move. One half of the reinforced gates had been completely blown away by the blast, the second half was hanging on its hinges. In front of them, Blake’s house was lit up like a bonfire. As they watched, the left side of the house crumbled away, the manic flames clinging to the building, fading as a thick swarm of black smoke billowed out towards them.

  ‘Matilda,’ said Tillman, preparing to move towards the house.

  Lambert held out his arm. Even from this distance, the heat was incredible. Sweat poured from him, his skin close to blistering. ‘We can’t,’ he said, as the first of the fire engines arrived, a benefit from having the emergency services on standby.

  Before he had a chance to stop him, Tillman was making a dash for it, following the path of the fire engine. Lambert followed behind, his movements slow and heavy, his lungs struggling with the fog of smoke which clouded his vision, hot tears streaming down his face.

  It had to be a mistake. Atkinson wanted Blake to suffer. He was the Watcher. He wanted to execute Blake’s family before his eyes, wanted to watch as Blake watched, wanted to find some solace in his brutal revenge. The explosion would not have satisfied his bloodlust. It was either a mistake, or somehow he’d managed to escape with Blake before the explosion was set off.

  ‘Try to secure the perimeter,’ he said into the radio, his arms flailing at the smoke which was getting hotter. ‘Atkinson may have an escape route planned.’ No one responded, and in the visionless gloom Lambert couldn’t tell if the radio was even working. ‘Tillman,’ he shouted, his words swallowed by the smoke, the thundering sound of the flames climbing the building.

  The piercing light of the fire engine guided him forwards until he was in the courtyard in front of the house. Jets of water streamed into the front of the house, soaked up by the flames as if they were fuel. Some of the party goers had escaped the house and were milling around the front of the house like the undead. Paramedics were on the scene and were chasing after the guests, attending to the silent ones first.

  Lambert located a fire chief, barking orders from the side of one of the engines. ‘What are we looking at?’ he asked, showing his warrant card.

  ‘Front of the house is fucked. Very unstable. We have to get the survivors out. A third of the top floor has collapsed. I haven’t seen anything like this before. This is a staged explosion. You need to get everyone out of here.’

  Lambert scanned the figures, desperate for a sign of Kennedy or Tillman. He couldn’t leave now. He thanked the officer, and moved off into the gloom. More engines, ambulances and police squads were arriving. He moved around the right side of the house, his skin burning, his nostrils fighting the acrid smell of the smoke, each movement laboured, until he was at the back of the house. A secondary fire team was already in place, a team of medics tending to another herd of survivors. ‘Kennedy,’ he shouted into the air, making his way through the wounded and dead.

  A man lay on the ground, wrapped in a foil blanket, two medics trying their best to sedate him, his face a bubbling patch of blister, his skin blackened beyond recognition. A woman had her arm around a younger woman who was missing her left hand. Lambert bent down and felt the woman’s neck for a pulse. He lifted her head. Her eyes were lifeless and had been for some time. Similar scenes played out all around him. He wanted to stop but had to find Kennedy and Tillman.

  He stopped two uniformed officers. ‘You seen Tillman?’ he asked.

  ‘No, sir.’

  A group of fire officers left a side entrance, each wearing a mask, one carrying a body. ‘DCI Lambert. Is it safe to go in there?’

  ‘If you go in there, you won’t be coming back,’ said one of the officers, dragging off his mask. ‘The smoke will get you, if something doesn’t collapse on you.’

  ‘One of my team was in there. She was locked in a bedroom on the first floor the last time we heard from her.’

  The fireman shook his head. ‘I’m sorry, the upper floors are pretty much gone. We’ll know more when the main fire is out but it doesn’t look great.’

  ‘What did he say?’

  The fireman walked off as Lambert turned to face Tillman. His shirt was untucked, and ripped at the sleeve. His eyes poked through a coating of ash, devoid of emotion.

  ‘Come on, Glenn, you need to be checked out,’ said Lambert, leading his boss to one of the ambulances.

  Tillman shrugged him off. ‘We’ve found one of Atkinson’s team. Tyler’s interrogating him now.’

  Lambert had lost all track of time since the explosion, the scene at Blake’s house dreamlike, and he questioned his own mental wellbeing.

  ‘From what he’s told us, the explosion was not part of the plan. He thinks most of the men were in the house and were killed.’

  ‘Atkinson?’

  ‘No sign, yet. As soon as that main fire is out, we’ll start counting the bodies.’ Tillman spoke with his usual professionalism, whilst looking as if he wasn’t really there.

  ‘I’m going to check the grounds at the back of the house. ‘You should really see someone.’

  ‘I think they’ve got enough work to do. Come on,’ said Tillman, leading the way, moving as if against some invisible force.

  The glow from the fire lit the grounds to the back
of the house. Party goers sat on the grass, the same distant look he’d seen on Tillman etched onto their faces.

  The ground stretched into the distance, a line of trees marking the border. Lambert switched on his torch, the beam of light eating into the darkness, the land vast and vacant. He scanned across the perimeter, moving forward until he caught the outline of a figure who looked as if he was scrambling over some kind of fencing. ‘There,’ he said to Tillman, pointing to the figure.

  ‘Let’s go,’ said Tillman, ‘there must be a reason he’s trying to leave.’

  They inched across the grass, the torch shining in front of them. Even with the help of the light, they still stumbled in the grass, which was pitted with holes, Lambert trying not to think about the mines Blake had claimed were planted in the ground.

  ‘He’s still there,’ said Tillman, his breathing coming in rapid expulsions of air. The figure was still climbing the fence, as if he was stuck or was taking a rest. ‘You go ahead, I’m gone.’

  Lambert tried to run, but his lungs were not functioning properly. His limbs ached, heavier than he could remember. He ran as if he was in a nightmare trying to escape a foe, the normal laws of physics not applying.

  The escapee looked as if he was having the same problem. Lambert closed in on the target still balanced on the fence. The man was caught in some netting, and was shaking his left leg frantically, trying to escape.

  Lambert stopped twenty yards from the figure, and shone his torch. The figure turned to face the beam, an animal caught in the headlights. ‘Atkinson?’ asked Lambert, trying not to recoil.

  What was left of Atkinson snarled back at him. His lips had been burnt clean off, as had half his face. It was a wonder he was still moving. Even from this distance, Lambert could see his revealed gums, the hint of jaw bone beneath melting flesh. Somehow, he pulled his left leg free, and fell over the fence.

  ‘Don’t move,’ said Lambert, running to the fence, a dart of adrenaline driving him on.

  Atkinson was up and moving away. His shirt had been burnt off his back, bits of it stuck to his flesh like an absurd collage. Lambert didn’t have to run to catch up. The man was moving out of pure instinct, and wouldn’t last long. ‘Stop moving, Neil. We can get you some help.’