 
# About the Book

Blackmail is a dangerous game. But when the US Ambassador to London and the British Prime Minister are caught up in it, the situation becomes deadly.

The Palindrome Cult members are fanatical. They will stop at nothing to achieve their aims. But who are they? And who is their elusive leader?

Hedge and Cole must hunt them down, before the government is fatally damaged, and before more people have to die.

This is a novel in the acclaimed Hedge & Cole thriller series.

(The Palindrome Cult story concludes in this book, but the main characters are set to return in future exploits).

Cole is a tough, ex-military man. He's the sort of person that trouble and danger seem to follow, wherever he goes. He can be ruthless when he needs to be. And he often finds the need.

Hedge is a reluctant hero. Plagued with anxieties and haunted by flashbacks, he is not the type of lead character that you would normally expect. This novel is refreshingly different in that respect.

You are invited along for the ride, but will you be able to unravel the secret of the Cult before the ultimate, shocking, twist in the tail?

Kevin Bradley shows how to mix fast paced action, with suspense and intrigue. This novel will have you on the edge of your seat from start to finish.

This book would sit well alongside your Lee Child and Michael Connelly favourites!

**What people are saying about** The Palindrome Cult

"A fantastic book, with many twists and turns. I was gripped from start to finish."

"This is a great read, one I couldn't put down. Kevin Bradley is up there with the likes of Scott Mariani, Mark Dawson and Stephen Leather. Plenty of drama, suspense, twists and turns. Don't make me wait too long for the next one."

"Riveting. Great characters, great writing, great story. Excellent use of facts and geographic backdrop. Totally enjoyed it."

"I can definitely recommend this book. If you manage to predict the twist in the story, then you have a better imagination than me!"

"An enjoyable book with some unexpected and interesting events in the storyline. I wasn't sure where it was going, but the end did surprise me. I will definitely be reading the next books in the series."

"There's a touch of Lee Child about this."

The Palindrome Cult

Published by Kevin Bradley at Smashwords

Copyright © 2017 Kevin Bradley

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

Thank you for downloading this eBook. This book remains the copyrighted property of the author, and may not be redistributed to others for commercial or non-commercial purposes.

If you enjoyed this book, please encourage your friends to download their own copy from their favourite authorized retailer.

Thank you for your support.

# Books by Kevin Bradley

The Palindrome Cult

(Hedge & Cole / Book 1)

"A cracking good read, fast and furious, unputdownable"

The Terminate Code

(Hedge & Cole / Book 2)

"A fantastic story, breathtaking and full of intrigue, unforgettable"

The Transamerica Cell

(Hedge & Cole / Book 3)

"A gripping, tense thriller, you'll be on the edge of your seat"

The Cuba Cage

(Hedge & Cole / Book 4)

"A shockingly good novel, full of terror and suspense"

Bully Boys

(Hedge & Cole / Supplement)

"A brutal and sadistic account of boarding school life"

The Hedge & Cole Thriller Series (Books 1-4)

(Hedge & Cole / The Collection)

"A 4 book set of gripping, action adventure novels"

The Palindrome Cult

Kevin Bradley

# Chapter One

The man holding the cut-throat razor was known simply as The Shaver. The blade he held was sharp. It had to be. There was a lot of work to be done.

He didn't know who the young woman standing in front of him was. That wasn't important though. He had his instructions, and he was being well paid for the job. The location had shocked him, but he had quickly recovered his composure. That was essential. A steady hand was needed for the delicate work that was required.

He slowly approached the naked woman. She was young. Maybe nineteen or twenty years old, he guessed. She was attractive, about medium height, and with very pale skin. She was standing on a thick, plastic sheet. That was good, he thought to himself. The carpet in the office looked expensive. It would be a shame to spoil it.

He picked up a large tube, and squeezed out some shaving foam onto his hands. Then he coated her head with it. She didn't have much hair to shave off, as most of it had already been cut off with scissors. He carefully ran the blade over her head until it was completely smooth.

Next, he told her to hold up her arms, and he shaved underneath them. He then rubbed the shaving foam over the surface of her arms, legs, and back, and shaved these areas in turn. He had been working for thirty minutes already, and his hand was aching.

The girl stood silent and still. Her face showed no expression. Like him, she was being well paid. What was required of her had been fully explained.

The Shaver asked her to part her legs, and he knelt down and shaved the area covered by her pubic hair. He took his time. Being a perfectionist was something he was proud of.

Finally, he stood back to admire his work.

His face suddenly showed a look of horror. How could he have forgotten? Moving back towards the girl, he put a small amount of foam on each of her eyebrows, and shaved them off.

He nodded to himself. His work was done. Pulling his cell phone out of his pocket, he quickly made a call.

'All finished,' he said.

A few moments later the door of the office opened. A slim looking woman walked confidently in to the room. She was older than the girl, maybe ten years older. The Shaver tried not to look at her for too long. The only thing he noticed about her was that her eyes looked slightly oriental. She walked over to where the girl was standing on the plastic sheet, and studied her carefully.

'That's good work,' she said. 'Lift your arms please.'

The girl obeyed.

The older woman nodded.

'Would you bend over for me? That's it. See if you can touch your toes.'

The girl didn't offer any resistance. She leaned forward, her fingers almost reaching the plastic sheet.

The older woman ran her middle finger up the back of the girl's right thigh. She carried on towards the region in between her legs, and then stroked the area along her backside, passing her finger across the girl's anus.

'That's very good work indeed. I don't think we'll get any complaints.'

She reflected on the specific requirements of her customer. There must be no bodily hair at all. That was critical. She didn't want to let the man down. They didn't come any more important than him.

The woman turned to the girl. 'Go and shower. Please be back here in ten minutes.'

The Watcher couldn't believe his eyes.

He had started to record what was going on in the room as soon as the naked girl had shown up on his screen.

'Oh my god,' he whispered to himself.

He had continued to follow the events as they unfolded before his eyes. The man with the razor had left the office. The young girl had showered and returned. The other woman had also come back, and she was followed closely by a middle aged man. He was formally dressed but without a jacket. He turned to the other woman and nodded, his demeanour indicating that he was pleased with what he saw. She then left the room, and he closed and locked the door of the office.

The Watcher recognised the man instantly. Most people would have done.

The middle aged man then walked over and stood next to the girl. He ran his hands slowly down her arms, across her back, and then between her legs. Next, he turned her around and leant her over his glass-topped desk. He carried on touching her, slowly and deliberately.

After a short while, he undid his trousers, and let them fall around his ankles. Then he pulled down his underwear.

The Watcher carried on staring at the screen for the next three minutes, and then it was all over. The two people near the desk were clearly visible on the screen.

Before she had previously left the room, he would have liked to have had a better view of the other woman's face, but the camera in the room was miniature and so had limited capability. It wasn't able to zoom in. Therefore, it couldn't make out what the four words were tattooed on her forearm.

He pressed a button on the keyboard in front of him and the words 'Recording Saved' appeared in the middle of the screen.

The Watcher picked up the telephone on his desk and pressed a button on the handset.

After a few seconds he spoke into it. 'You won't believe what I have just seen, and in his own office.'

There was a pause as the person on the other end spoke.

'Yes I have,' said the Watcher, 'all safely saved to the master drive, with full encryption. It will make interesting viewing for whoever sees it next.'

He clicked a button on the telephone and placed it back on the desk.

He didn't know it at the time, but the piece of film he had just recorded would never be seen by anyone else.

# Chapter Two

Blood was pouring down the side of the young boy's face. It was coming from a deep gash on the top of his head. It looked like someone was tipping raspberry sauce over him, and the crimson liquid was staining the upper parts of his shirt.

The boy's face was scrunched up in agony, and he was crying.

He would have been screaming if he were able to. But he wasn't. In fact, he couldn't even breathe.

He was panic stricken.

If he had been older, he might have realised how close to death he was. But he was just a small boy. He didn't understand these things.

Just a few minutes earlier, the young man known as Hedge had started to eat his lunch. He looked up from his meal and noticed the lady enter the cafe and sit down at the table to the left of his. She was accompanied by two young boys, presumably her children. She ordered a coffee and the boys ordered milkshakes. They also requested a large ham and mushroom pizza to share between them. The food and drinks arrived shortly after, and the boys started to demolish the pizza with surprising speed. They were both laughing, and the mother was kept busy trying to keep them under control.

The two boys had started racing to see who could eat a whole slice of pizza in the shortest possible time. The eldest son, who Hedge thought might be around six years old, had pushed a large piece into his mouth and was seemingly trying to swallow it straight down. The mother and youngest boy were laughing at him, but as Hedge was watching them, he suddenly realised that the older boy appeared to be in some distress. He was desperately trying to cough up the food but couldn't get it out of his throat. He was attempting to get the attention of his mother, but she still thought he was playing. The boy now had tears in his eyes and was clearly struggling for breath. The mother's mood changed instantly as she realised what was happening.

'Spit it out,' she shouted to him, as she jumped from her seat to help him.

The boy suddenly fell off his chair and cracked his head on the floor. Blood was streaming down his face and tears were flooding from his eyes. He had his hands around his neck and was desperately trying to cough out the food, but seemingly it was lodged firmly in his throat.

The mother picked him up and turned him around. She slapped her hand hard on his back to try and dislodge what was blocking his airway. She repeated this action several times but to no avail. The boy had now gone quiet and was hanging limply in her arms. The younger son was crying and had a scared look on his face. He sat in his seat, not moving, watching what was happening to his older brother.

Several people in the cafe had now become aware of the young boys distress. The mother was screaming for help and an elderly man with greying hair rushed over to her table. He tried to open the boy's mouth and attempted to get some of the food out from the back of the youngster's throat using his fingers, but he was unsuccessful - it was lodged in tight.

'We need to apply pressure around his chest, like a bear hug,' he said.

With that, the elderly man grabbed hold of the boy and turned the child's body to face away from him. The man squeezed the boy tightly and applied pressure in quick violent movements. He did this several times but the youngster still hung limp. His throat remained blocked and he was still not breathing.

Even to this day Hedge couldn't quite explain what happened next. It seemed so out of character for him. Some people would say he was a bit quiet, even shy. He was not generally a confident person, and he would avoid being the centre of attention if he possibly could. He certainly wasn't someone who would walk away from danger, but he typically kept himself to himself and so rarely got involved in other people's problems.

But this was the day when Hedge became an unexpected hero.

He jumped from his seat with a sense of urgency.

'Someone phone for an ambulance', he shouted. 'Tell them a young boy is choking and needs immediate help. They need to get here in the next few minutes otherwise it will be too late.'

Several of the cafe customers reached for their cell phones.

Hedge was already grabbing hold of the boy and laying him across the table. He was still not breathing and his face had started to turn a pale shade of blue. Hedge estimated that it was now around one minute since the boy had fallen off the chair.

He turned to a man in the crowd, who had been watching the scene with a scared look on his face. 'Hey, I want you to call out the time. Start from one minute and call out every fifteen seconds. I need to know how long the lad has not been breathing for.'

The man took off his watch and stared at it intently.

'Okay, one minute,' he said.

Hedge pushed everything else off the table and looked closely at the boy. He wiped some of the blood away from the boy's face, and then tilted his head back and tried to see what was stuck in the child's throat. He couldn't see anything, as the light in the cafe wasn't very good. He probed the back of the boy's throat with his fingers. He could feel a blockage but it felt solid, and he was worried in case he pushed it further down making things worse. He removed his fingers quickly.

'One minute and fifteen seconds,' shouted the man with the watch.

The other diners in the cafe had started to gather close to the table. They all had concerned looks on their faces. A few of them had covered their mouths with their hands. Some of them were still making calls on their phones. One man had his cell phone held in front of him and he looked like he was filming the scene.

'Hey you! Stop taking pictures. Turn that camera off now,' Hedge screamed at him.

The man looked embarrassed by his actions and put his phone back in his coat pocket.

Hedge looked around the room. 'Are there any doctors or medical people here?' he asked hopefully.

No one responded, so Hedge shouted for someone to ring for an ambulance again.

'We have a slowly dying boy here,' he said, 'make sure the emergency operator is aware of that.'

The mother sobbed loudly and put her head close to the boy's mouth.

'He's not breathing. He needs help. Please someone, help him,' she cried.

'One minute and thirty seconds.'

Hedge knew something had to be done, something drastic, and it needed doing now. He had seen on television how people had been saved when their throats were blocked, but the process was usually carried out by qualified medical staff who knew what they were doing. Hedge certainly didn't fall into that category.

Hedge shouted over to Antonio, the cafe manager. 'I need your sharpest knife, some clean towels and a small plastic tube. It needs to be something bigger than a straw, maybe the size of a hosepipe, and around six inches long. Have you got anything like that?'

Antonio spun around without a word and headed off quickly towards the kitchen.

'One minute and forty five seconds.'

Hedge turned to the mother. He spoke bluntly but he didn't have a choice. She had to know the facts and she needed to understand the risks.

'Your son hasn't been breathing now for nearly two minutes. I am not sure but I believe that if you don't breathe for around four minutes then you are effectively brain dead. We have no medical people here and the ambulance will be a while yet. We have run out of time. I can try to cut open his throat to see if we can get air into him, but I will be honest with you, I have no idea how to do it. If I get it wrong and cut his main artery, then he will probably die from blood loss.'

'Two minutes.'

The mother was ashen faced. She looked at Hedge but didn't know what to say. What sort of choice was that? Her son was suffocating and would die soon due to lack of air. She looked at her beloved child lying motionless on the table.

'You have to save him,' she said. 'Don't let him die.'

'Is there any more news on that ambulance?' Hedge shouted to no one in particular.

A few people shook their heads.

'Keep calling them,' he said loudly.

'Two minutes and fifteen seconds.'

Just at that moment Antonio returned with the items that Hedge had requested.

Hedge looked at the mother. She looked back at him but showed no expression. She said nothing. Her eyes looked far away.

Hedge turned and stared around the room at the faces of the people gathered there. When his eyes passed over them they each turned away from his gaze.

Hedge looked down at the boy on the table and his heart started thumping in his chest. He could feel beads of sweat building up on his forehead. What should he do? He felt very scared.

'Two minutes and thirty seconds.'

He wiped the sweat off his hands and picked up the knife.

# Chapter Three

Hedge asked a young man standing nearby to pull the child's head back and hold it still. Using his right hand he felt the boy's throat to see if he could locate the wind pipe. He could feel the hardness of the throat passage, but he had no idea where the main artery was in relation to that part of the neck. He knew, like most people, that the jugular vein was in the neck somewhere. He believed it was at the front near the main airway. He needed to cut a hole in the boy's windpipe without damaging the jugular. He carried on feeling with his hand, not sure what he was looking for exactly.

'Two minutes and forty five seconds.'

Hedge made up his mind. He had to act now. He glanced down at the knife in his hand and touched the blade lightly with his thumb. He could feel the surface of his skin break slightly. It seemed very sharp.

He placed the knife against the centre of the boy's throat and pushed gently. The skin gave easily and Hedge made a cut of around one inch long. Blood started oozing out and several people in the watching crowd took a sharp intake of breath.

Hedge continued to cut and pushed the knife harder against the fibrous material of the neck. The knife went into the throat to a depth of about half an inch. He continued with the knife until there was a small slit clearly visible.

'Three minutes,' shouted out the man with the watch.

'Damn,' said Hedge. 'We are running out of time. I need to make this hole wider.'

Hedge tried to force the knife sideways to enlarge the slit. The boy's eyes, which had been closed, suddenly flicked open and stared straight at him. Was it a reaction, or was it pain? Hedge wasn't sure. A middle-aged woman from the watching crowd stepped forward, and picking up a small towel, started to wipe away some of the blood.

Hedge looked over at her and tried to smile. His hands were shaking. He felt very nervous. He had a lot resting on his shoulders right now. He wanted to vomit, but pushed the thought out of his head and tried to regain his focus on the task in front of him.

He now had to get the blade out of the hole he had made in the throat. He moved the blade slowly and it was almost out when a jet of bright crimson liquid surged from the skin around the hole. The blood sprayed all over the boy's neck and onto the table. The woman with the towel frantically tried to mop it up but there was too much of it. She threw down the sodden towel and picked up a fresh one.

The boy's mother started sobbing again and then shouted, 'Oh god, no. Please, no.'

Hedge wasn't sure what had happened. Several people in the crowded room turned their heads away and two of the women screamed. The lady wiping the blood away had started using the clean towel, but this was now also becoming saturated.

Hedge turned the boys head to one side to try and stop the blood draining back into his throat. The blood flow started slowing. After a few more seconds it had almost stopped. Hedge felt a wave of relief, but it wasn't over yet.

'Three minutes and fifteen seconds,' the time keeper shouted.

Hedge could clearly see the hole in throat now and he reached for the tube that Antonio had provided. He thought it looked ideal for the job. It was a clear piece of piping made of some kind of thin, flexible plastic. It was around six inches long as he had requested. He pushed the tube into the boy's throat so that half of it was still visible. He told the middle-aged woman, who had been wiping the blood, to try to make a seal around the tube where it connected with the boy's throat. She found another fresh towel and placed it around the base of the tube and pressed down gently.

Hedge knew the young boy's time must be nearly up. He had heard of people drowning in just one or two minutes and being unable to be resuscitated. He put his mouth around the tube and blew into it. The boy's chest rose slightly. Hedge repeated this several times. Although the boy's chest moved up and down as the air went into his lungs, he remained motionless.

'Three minutes and thirty seconds.'

Hedge blew air into the tube in a regular rhythm and carried on doing so for a full minute. He stopped and looked up at the boy when the man with the watch called out the latest time at four minutes and thirty seconds. The boy lay quite still. Hedge realised it was too late. The crowd of people in the room had gone quiet. The mother of the boy was just sitting staring into space, tears running down her face. The younger brother sat whimpering in his chair with his head in his hands.

Hedge was devastated. He stopped blowing into the tube and looked down at the boy. He was quite still and his face had gone very pale. He looked completely lifeless. There was nothing more that Hedge could think of to do.

The boy was dead.

# Chapter Four

Hedge took a step back from the table. The boy lay still. A tall man in the crowd moved towards Hedge. He was holding his cell phone in an outstretched arm.

'The ambulance will be here in around two minutes.'

Hedge took the phone and spoke quietly into it. 'It's too late. The boy hasn't been breathing for around five minutes now. I think he's dead.'

'Listen to me,' said the voice on the end of the phone. 'I am a paramedic and I am on my way with the ambulance. We will be with you very soon. Are you able to get any air at all into the patient's windpipe? Is his chest moving at all?'

'Yes to both,' said Hedge, 'but I think it's all too late.'

'Keep it going anyway, we will be there in a minute,' said the paramedic.

Hedge stepped back towards the table and leaned down over the young boy. He felt like it was a waste of time, but he started to blow into the tube again. He watched the boy's chest move up and down. It all felt a little fruitless to him now.

It seemed like an eternity until he finally heard the siren of the ambulance as it arrived outside the cafe. The crowd parted behind him and two uniformed men rushed towards the young boy, one of them holding a small metal case. They did some checks on the child before quickly placing two round electrodes on his chest. They told the crowd to stand back, and then gave him an electric shock to try and get his heart beating again. One of the paramedics carefully removed Hedge's tube from the boy's throat. He disposed of it in a clear plastic bag. He then reached into the metal case and pulled out a smaller tube attached to an electric pump. He placed this new tube in the boy's throat and secured it with some medical tape. He flicked a small switch on the side of the pump and it started to hum quietly.

The boy's chest was now moving rhythmically up and down. The paramedics worked quickly and efficiently. They had clearly been in this situation many times before. They set up a drip into the boys arm and when they were happy with it, they gave him an injection into the top of his thigh from a small plastic syringe.

Without warning, the boy's eyes opened again and he tried to scream. The noise came out as a gurgle, as it was forced from the hole in his throat. He moved his hands as if to pull the tube out of his neck but the paramedics gently restrained him.

'Lie still,' one of them said to him.

The mother had suddenly come back to reality. Her eyes regained their focus and she shouted at the paramedics. 'Is he breathing, is he alive, will he be okay?'

The pump on the boy's throat was turned off and the paramedic removed it from the tube. The crowd watched as he started breathing for himself. The air hissed into the plastic pipe in his throat, erratically at first, and then it settled down into a steady rhythm. The colour slowly started to return to the boy's face and he lifted his hands towards his mother.

'We need to take him to hospital now. You can come along in the ambulance. Bring your other son,' said one of the paramedics.

The boy was taken off to the waiting ambulance on a stretcher and the mother followed them, pulling her younger lad behind her.

The paramedic who had spoken to the mother looked around at the crowd of faces in the room. His eyes looked slightly menacing. 'Who is the butcher responsible for causing all this blood?' The tone of his voice was angry and aggressive.

Hedge paused for a second or two, then stepped forward and gingerly raised his hand. He said nothing as he was still somewhat shocked from all that had just happened.

The paramedic looked at him with a grievous expression. 'That was a stupid thing to do, as you could easily have killed that boy. Did you have any idea what you were doing? That was a very dangerous procedure you carried out. The boy could easily have died of shock, blood loss or other complications.'

Hedge felt very small and looked down at the floor. Some of the people standing near to him moved away slightly, as if he was now some sort of pariah.

The paramedic stormed off towards the front of the cafe. He opened the door to leave and turned around to speak one final comment to Hedge before he left.

'However, young man, if you hadn't done what you did, that boy would have certainly died.'

With that the paramedic rushed out pulling the door shut behind him. He was half way back to the ambulance when he heard the crowd inside the cafe erupt into loud cheering and applause.

# Chapter Five

It had been an interesting time for Hedge since the incident in the cafe. The local newspapers had all interviewed him, and they had published several articles on the events of that day. At work he was regarded as a bit of a celebrity.

But he was a reluctant hero. Being in the limelight wasn't something he craved. It wasn't in his nature.

He was a creature of habit. His lunch break for example, was always at noon and always at the Cafe Roma, which was just a short walk from where he worked in the centre of London.

It had been a particularly busy morning in the office and he was looking forward to his midday break. It was a cold day in March and as he headed off to the cafe, he thrust his hands hard into his coat pockets in an attempt to reduce the impact of the biting wind.

He was deep in thought as he made his way down Regent Street. He was thinking about his life, as he often did. He hadn't always lived in London. In fact, he was born in the United States. His family came from near Houston, in Texas, so he was officially an American citizen. His father had been in the US Air Force, and the family had moved to England when he was just eight years old. His dad had been deployed to the 48th Fighter Wing (also known as the Statue of Liberty Wing), which was permanently based at Lakenheath in Suffolk, a lovely part of England.

Tragically, just after Hedge had celebrated his tenth birthday, both his parents had been killed in a car crash near the base. He remembered the day it happened as if it were only yesterday. He had no brothers or sisters, so he had felt quite alone in the world. His uncle Larry had taken charge of the funeral and other formalities, and Hedge had then gone to live with him and his family in London. They had two of their own children, a boy and a girl, and they had all been happy to welcome him into their home. His uncle was employed in a senior position with a large bank, and Hedge had found his work at the bank of great interest.

Despite the trauma of losing his parents, he thought he had done reasonably well for himself. His Uncle had paid for him to go to a good English boarding school, and following that he had attended Cambridge University. He wasn't what might be described as a top student, but he had worked hard, and had done just enough to scrape his place at one of England's finest places of learning. The main focus of his study had been in the area of Economics, and after three years of hard work he had achieved a BA Honours degree.

He had enjoyed his time in Cambridge, but he had been keen to get out into the wider world and start his career. With a little help from his uncle Larry, he had secured a position in a small investment bank in London, where he was employed as a Client Relationship Manager. He had a good job, and he lived in a smart house in a pleasant suburb of the capital. At twenty eight years old he felt relatively content with his life.

Hedge kept himself in good shape due to regular visits to his local gym. He was a fraction under six feet tall, with dark hair, and, as he was often told, he had a very pale complexion. Although everyone called him Hedge, that wasn't actually his real name. His passport stated him as Tom Millar. The only person who still called him Tom though, was his aunt. To everyone else he was simply known as Hedge.

The reason for this was that for as long as anyone could remember, he had been fascinated with money and finance. Even as a young boy he would keep a record of his pocket money – how much he received and how he spent it. When he was at junior school in Houston, he had regularly followed the share price movements on the New York stock exchange.

When he was just seven years old, before the family had moved to England, his father had asked him what he wanted to be when he grew up. To everyone's amazement he had announced that he would like to be a 'Hedge Fund Manager'. He wasn't actually sure what one of those was at the time, but he knew it was an important financial job, and anyway, he quite liked the sound of it. So the name had stuck, and from then on everyone had called him Hedge. Most people who knew him now would probably not even be aware of his real name.

His mind came back to the present as he approached his lunch destination. Entering the cafe he noticed that it was a fairly quiet day. He looked across to his favourite seat and it was vacant, so he headed over to it and sat down. He picked up one of the white paper serviettes from the wooden holder in the middle of the table and quickly wiped the surface of the table clean. His eyes flicked around the cafe to see if anyone had noticed what he had done. A bad habit of his - he liked things tidy. He moved the serviette holder to the left side of the table, it looked better being there. Next he picked up the white plastic salt and pepper pots and moved them next to the serviette holder. Much better – he definitely liked things tidy. Finally he grabbed hold of the menu and looked up to see who was serving today.

Antonio came rushing over when he saw him. He was still impressed with what Hedge had done for the boy that day, and the extra publicity for the cafe had been very welcome!

'Hi Hedge, how are you doing today? If you're after something light I can recommend my special ham and mozzarella Panini.'

'I'm well thanks, and that sounds perfect,' said Hedge, 'and the usual drink of tea,' he added.

'No problem,' said Antonio, and he headed back towards the kitchen.

As short while later Antonio came back to the table. He was whistling to himself as he set down a pot of tea and a white, china tea cup. He left a bowl with some sugar sachets in the middle of the table. He knew better than to leave any milk. Hedge wasn't keen on milk.

Hedge picked up the teapot and filled his cup. He loved coming into this cafe. It was like a haven from work and he relaxed as soon as he arrived. He recognised some of the regular faces and nodded to several people around the room as they looked across in his direction.

He stirred a little sugar into the tea before moving the sugar bowl across the table next to the salt and pepper. Neat and tidy, he thought to himself. He lifted the cup to his mouth and sipped at his drink. He looked around the room again at the other customers in the cafe and wondered what they might all be thinking about. They all looked fairly 'ordinary' he thought. He certainly felt ordinary himself. He guessed most people were.

He lifted the teapot and refilled his cup. As he set the pot back down, he turned it so that the spout and the handle were in line with the way he sat facing. Tidy!

Yes, 'he was very ordinary' he thought to himself. Maybe a few minor nuances, but otherwise he was a fairly straightforward character.

# Chapter Six

Because of all the publicity in the newspapers, everyone in the bank now knew who Hedge was. In the first few weeks after saving the boy's life, most of the other staff had wanted to talk to him about it. Hedge had been quite keen to do so initially, but then it became a little tiresome and so he tried to discourage any further conversation about the incident.

His ability to find girlfriends had improved dramatically since that eventful day back in March. Some of the young ladies in the neighbourhood where he lived had approached him to chat when he was out in the evening with mates. Two of the girls in the office had become friendlier towards him also. One of these, Louise, who worked in the company's currency exchange department, had even asked him out for a drink.

Hedge wasn't great with girls, he never had been. He didn't feel very confident with them, especially if he didn't know them very well. He noticed that women would often come and talk to him though – something several of his mates had commented on. His cousin even referred to him as a 'Babe Magnet', something Hedge would certainly not have thought was even close to being true.

He had recently got to know Louise quite well though. They had been out on several dates and they had become quite close. She was a passionate young girl, as he found out after they had been to the cinema one evening. The film they had seen had been mildly erotic and Louise had been quiet as they walked back to his car, parked in a local multi storey car park.

As they sat in the front seats ready to drive off, she leaned over to his side of the car, pulled his head towards her and started to kiss him. Her tongue was probing deep into his mouth and she was moaning quietly. Hedge responded enthusiastically. Then, without warning, she jumped over to his seat, sat astride him and continued to press her lips to his. He found this rather exciting, if not a little uncomfortable, so to ease the pressure on his back, he probed down the side of the seat with his hand and reclined the backrest a little.

Meanwhile Louise's fingers had been busy. She had her hands on his trousers, and was fumbling with the zipper of his jeans. Eventually she managed to push her hand inside his underwear, and then gently started to squeeze him. He was feeling very aroused as she continued to rub and caress him. She lifted her skirt up to her waist and reached down to grab hold of the front of her panties. As she did so, she pulled the thin material to one side and allowed him to slide inside her. It was wonderful as he entered her, so hot and sensitive. She moved up and down on him slowly, rubbing her soft breasts gently into his face at the same time.

Hedge was breathing very quickly now and she could sense that he was extremely turned on. She wanted to try something a little kinky with him, so she leaned over to her handbag on the passenger seat, and pulled out a handkerchief. She rolled it up and started to tie it round his eyes, knotting it at the back so that it acted as a blindfold.

Once he realised what she was doing, he reacted instantly, shouting loudly whilst pulling the blindfold off, pushing her hands aside as he did so. His breathing had become suddenly quite erratic and he was screaming at her to get off him. He threw the handkerchief out of the partially open car window, and managed to push Louise over onto the passenger seat.

'What the hell is the matter with you?' she said. She looked a little shocked by his sudden extreme behaviour.

Hedge had his eyes shut tight, and held his face in his hands. He was trying to control his breathing, but it wasn't proving easy. He took a few deep breaths and then lifted his head up.

'I'm sorry,' he managed to say between deep breaths.

He was struggling to get his breathing back under control. His eyes were still shut, and his chest was rising and falling in rapid succession.

'Just give me a minute. I'm sorry, I panicked. I get anxious ... about certain things ... you see'. He was still breathing heavily, but he had opened his eyes and was looking straight ahead. His skin had turned pale white and he looked a little unwell.

Louise put her hand on his. 'Oh dear, I didn't mean to frighten you. Don't worry. Lots of people don't like being blindfolded.'

'It's not that,' he said, and tried to laugh but it came out stilted. 'I hate handkerchiefs. They make me feel very anxious. They have done ever since I was at boarding school. Weird, I know, but I can't seem to help it.'

Louise looked confused. 'Well, that does sound a bit strange.'

He laughed. 'If you think that's funny, do you want to know what else unnerves me?'

She smiled and shook her head.

'As well as handkerchiefs, I also get a bit sensitive about milk. I had some bad experiences at school which left me a bit spooked about some things,' he said.

She looked at him for a few seconds. He wasn't sure if she was going to laugh, or just jump out of the car and run off. In the end she did neither. She moved back over to his side of the car, and sat astride him again. She then leaned down and kissed him gently on the lips. Her mouth was wet and warm, and he started to get aroused once more. She moved her hand down and pushed him back inside her. He soon forgot all about his panic attack. She moved her body slowly and deliberately up and down, while all the time his breathing was becoming faster.

Next she guided his mouth towards one of her nipples and he sucked on it gently at first, but then harder as she became more excited. She started to moan softly and her movements on top of him became increasingly urgent. He could no longer hold back and he pushed himself fully inside her as he reached his climax.

As he sat back and tried to slow his breathing down, she continued to push herself against him rhythmically until she had completed her own orgasm.

Hedge had found the whole experience with Louise highly arousing, but for various reasons they didn't see much more of each other, and the relationship fizzled out over the next few weeks.

As things got back to normal, Hedge began to reflect again on how ordinary his life seemed to be. The incident in the cafe had been an exception, but the memory of that was starting to fade now. He recalled that ever since he had been a young boy, he had always believed that there was going to be some special purpose to his life. It always felt like there was something waiting to happen to him just around the corner. He guessed that most people probably felt that. Or did they? He wasn't sure. He had certainly believed that he was 'here' for a greater reason. He felt like he thought about this too much, so he made a conscious effort to just get on with things, and in his own words, stop 'over-thinking' everything.

It was around July, at the height of summer, that the fuss surrounding him had finally died down. He had been focusing on his work and he was involved in several major projects for large multinational businesses. Life seemed to be getting back to normal.

It was almost six o'clock one Friday evening when two officers of the Metropolitan Police Fraud Squad arrived at the company's offices. Hedge was walking out of the main front entrance when he was stopped by one of the officers.

'Excuse me sir, but is your name Tom Millar?'

'Yes, that's me, what can I do for you?'

'Well you can accompany us please. We have a warrant for your arrest,' said the police officer.

# Chapter Seven

Hedge stood in silence as the sentence was read out. He had been given a nine month jail term. The judge asked him if he had anything further to say to the court, but he shook his head and said nothing. He was silent because he was in shock. His barrister had informed him that he would probably just get a warning, and that he would be a free man in time for dinner that evening.

He couldn't believe that this was happening to him. It wasn't even a real crime in his view. They called it 'insider trading', but there was no violence involved and nobody actually got hurt. The only positive thing about it, so his barrister had explained, was that he would get to serve his sentence in an 'open' prison. These typically were institutions with a more relaxed environment, where low risk inmates were sent. They didn't have barbed wire fences or other high security systems, relying instead on prisoners being well behaved and doing as they were told. Nevertheless, Hedge was still astonished. He thought he would be on his way home, not spending his first night locked up.

Despite his nickname, Hedge was not a Hedge Fund Manager, nothing like it. Those guys were typically the smartest in the banking fraternity, or the luckiest, depending on who you asked. He had joined the City and Commonwealth Investment bank, or CCI as it was commonly known, at a very junior level, but had risen to his current role as a result of hard work and commitment. He enjoyed talking to customers rather than juggling figures, and he had a good relationship with most of them. He was often the first point of contact for many of the bank's regular clients, passing them on to other specialist areas within the firm depending on their specific requirements.

One particular area that the bank focused on was in the provision of offshore finance. Hedge knew little about this complicated part of what CCI offered. He was aware that many locations around the world have set themselves up as Offshore Financial Centres, or OFC's. Some of the most well-known of these include Switzerland, The Cayman Islands, and Luxembourg. Hedge had contacts in all of these areas and many others. Offshore banking was often used by companies and individuals to raise finance from outside their own countries or, as is more commonly believed, to reduce tax liabilities in one's own country.

He had been suspended from his job around three months ago after the police were called in to investigate the potential fraud issue. Hedge had been at the centre of the inquiry and he had been quite frank and honest with the police from the outset.

'Had he been part of the project team looking at investment finance for a certain large corporation?'

'Yes he had.'

'Was he aware that this particular company was about to make an offer to take over another large business, also based in the city of London?

'Yes he was.'

'Had he mentioned this to a certain acquaintance of his at the gym where he was a member?'

'Yes he had.'

'Was he aware that this particular person was a significant investor in the London Stock Exchange?'

'Yes he was.'

'Did he realise that he was passing on confidential information to this person that would enable him to obtain an advantage over other investors in the market.'

'No, he hadn't realised this.'

The result of the above questioning led the police to charge Hedge with the crime of 'insider trading'. Although he had not realised the implications of what he had done, ignorance was not regarded as an excuse. The court had subsequently found him guilty of the offence. It was a turbulent time for the City of London's financial industry and several high profile frauds had recently come to light. The judge was keen to make an example of anyone coming before him charged with financial irregularities. Hedge was one such person.

During the court proceedings, his barrister had drawn the judge's attention to the event in the Cafe Roma involving his client earlier that year. The judge had listened intently to the story, but in the end it had not made any difference to the sentence.

That day back in the cafe seemed a long time ago to Hedge, as he was led to the waiting police van. Half an hour after hearing his sentence, he was making the short journey to Saltmarsh open prison, situated in the Essex countryside, just ten miles outside London.

There were two other prisoners in the vehicle with him and he glanced at them as the van sped along. The first one was a young man who looked like he could still have been a teenager. He stared constancy at the floor of the van and Hedge thought he could see tears running from his face. He tried to wipe his eyes but was thwarted by the handcuffs that, like his fellow passengers, held his wrists fixed to the metal bench that they were sitting on.

His second fellow passenger was older, much older, and he had no left ear. It looked like it had been sliced clean off, and the resulting wound had healed some time ago. He glanced across at Hedge and smiled an eerie, creepy smile that sent shivers down his spine. As he watched, the old man poked his tongue out at him and then burst out laughing. From where he sat, Hedge thought he could smell stale urine coming from the old guy's clothes.

Hedge suddenly felt quite lonely and depressed.

During the remainder of the journey he reflected to himself how in a matter of months he had gone from being a minor celebrity to being a convict, or hero to zero, as people often referred to it. This year had bought him the proudest moment in his life, and now also his worst nightmare. He had been fired from his job and many of his friends had disassociated themselves from him. The local press had ceased to publish the positive articles about him. He couldn't imagine how things could possibly get any worse.

# Chapter Eight

The first three weeks of his incarceration had been fairly uneventful. Hedge had kept his head down and did as he was told. It was all about getting into a routine, the guards and other inmates kept telling him. He was okay with that to some degree as he liked to have order in his life. He preferred to know what was going to happen on any particular day.

He kept his cell clean and tidy. He hadn't noticed it himself, but several of the other inmates had told him that his room was the neatest on the block. On one side of his cell was his bed, which he made up every morning, running his flat hands down the top bed sheet several times to ensure that no creases were visible. On the other side was a set of three wooden shelves. On the top one he kept his hygiene stuff – soap, toothpaste etc. The next shelf was for photographs and other personal items, and the bottom one was where he placed any letters and paperwork. It was a good system, and it worked well for him. He certainly didn't regard himself as abnormally over-organised, but he hadn't sleep well for three days after his last cell inspection. Most likely related to the highly spiced curry that had been served up for lunch at around that time. It was of course nothing to do with a prison officer moving Hedge's toothbrush inadvertently on to his second shelf during a routine room inspection. Hedge was still not sure why the officer would have done that – it was obvious that the toothbrush belonged on the top shelf with the other hygiene items!

Every morning after the prison 'wake up' bell had sounded he would head straight to the bathroom to have a shave and take a shower. Breakfast was at eight thirty and usually took around twenty minutes. Hedge normally went back to the serving hatch to request a second cup of tea. It wasn't the best quality tea he had tasted, but it was good all the same. He took the opportunity to chat to the inmates who were working in the kitchen, trying as best he could to get on with everyone.

He would often spend the rest of the morning in the prison library. There was a good selection of books and a fresh batch of newspapers each day. He would flick through the Times checking firstly the business pages, then read any other articles related to finance and banking, before finally reviewing the sports pages. It was good to keep up with all the latest results.

Lunch in the prison was between noon and one o'clock. Hedge tended to sit with the same group of people, mainly from his section of the prison.

It wasn't a prison as such, more of a set of buildings, surrounded by a low fence, or metal railings in some places. The inmates were free to move around as much as they wished. They were all on relatively short sentences, mainly for minor offences. No one really considered absconding as an option as they would almost certainly be tracked down eventually by the police. They would then be 'upgraded' to a more secure prison and have a longer sentence to go with it. Better to do your time and stick to the rules.

Afternoons would be spent studying, playing games, or working out in the gym. The television room was open to the inmates after dinner, and that's where Hedge would spend most of his evening. He was bored a lot of the time, but he kept to his routine as much as he could. The only way he would survive his prison term was to avoid anything out of the ordinary.

One morning, while sitting eating scrambled eggs at breakfast, he heard a fellow inmate talking about how they were looking for volunteers to work in the prison laundry. There was a small amount of pay that went with the job, but this wasn't the reason that Hedge was interested in it. He simply wanted to keep himself busy, and out of trouble. So immediately after breakfast, he walked along to the laundry building and made some enquiries.

The inmate in charge of the laundry was known as Persil. In fact, his real name was Percy, but due to the nature of his work, it had been adjusted slightly.

'I'll show you round, and then you can decide if you want to join the team,' said Persil, when Hedge had introduced himself.

Persil led him into a room full of industrial sized washing machines. Most of them were part way through a wash cycle, and the noise was quite intense.

'Let's move on,' said Persil. He could sense that Hedge was uncomfortable with the noise in this room. Most people were.

'This is where we hang the larger items out to dry,' Persil was saying.

They had entered a room which was much warmer than the previous one. There were several rows of clothes rails. Hedge noticed that they were mainly full and all kinds of garments, including prisons uniforms, were hanging from the rails. The air in the room was very humid and Hedge found it made his throat sore after a few breaths.

He looked around the room and noticed three inmates were busy working. They were hanging up newly washed garments. All three of them wore protection over their mouths and noses to keep out the hot, humid air. The method of protection each of them used was a simple handkerchief tied around their heads. They stared at Hedge as he came into the room. One of them lifted an arm and waved over to him.

Persil had been explaining the drying process, but he suddenly noticed that Hedge wasn't listening. In fact, his prospective new worker looked terrified.

'Are you alright?'

Hedge was staring at the other men in the room, with a serious look on his face. His mouth hung open and his breathing had quickened. He looked unsteady on his feet, so Persil had come close to him and grabbed hold of his arm.

'Do you want to sit down for a minute,' Persil seemed concerned.

'Yes please. I need some air,' replied Hedge.

Persil led him through a side door and out into the courtyard. They sat on a wooden bench. Hedge had his face in his hands, and was breathing slowly. He was shaking slightly and his eyes looked a little distant.

Persil looked worried. He wasn't sure what had bought on the sudden change in his colleague.

'I'll be okay in a minute.'

He sat quietly for a few minutes. Eventually his breathing returned to normal, and he stood slowly.

'Must be some reaction to the chemicals in the washroom,' Hedge lied.

'Well I guess you're not going to be my new assistant then,' said Persil. He looked disappointed as he had quite liked this young man. He thought they would have got on well together.

'Never mind,' said Hedge. 'I appreciate you showing me around though, thanks for that.'

He shook hands with Persil and walked off, feeling guilty having lied to Persil about the reason for his anxiety attack. But he could hardly have told him the truth. Surely no one has a morbid fear of handkerchiefs? But Hedge did. It was something that had developed as a result of various traumatic bullying incidents he had experienced as a younger man back in college. Pushing that line of thought from his mind, he strolled slowly back to his cell.

It was an unfortunate incident in the laundry room. Generally however, life at the open prison trundled on without any major upsets. Most days were pretty uneventful, but just occasionally some were not.

It was a Friday morning, and it seemed like any other day in the life of the prison. Hedge was woken by the morning bell as usual at precisely seven thirty. He pulled himself out of bed, and clad in just his underwear, he headed off for a shower. There were sixteen single prisoner cells on his floor and they all shared a good sized bathroom at the end of the block. He walked along the corridor and stopped to chat briefly with a couple of his fellow inmates.

He recognised one of the guys. He was a bit of an odd character whose real name was Dave, but everyone called him Red. This was on account of the fact that he walked about every morning in red underwear. It was one evening in the television room when the full story behind this was revealed. One of the channels was showing the film 'The Graduate'. The basic story in the movie was that a young man had a sexual encounter with a much older woman. Dave had explained that he had a very similar experience when he was younger. The mother of a friend who Dave was staying with had accidentally entered the bedroom where he was getting dressed and he was caught naked, apart from his red underwear. After a short embarrassing conversation, they had ended up having sex, right then and there. The nickname had stuck ever since.

Red said hello to Hedge, told him a rather vulgar joke about a priest and a donkey, and then moved on down the corridor. It was characters like Red that made life in the jail more bearable. Most of the men residing in the prison were generally pleasant people. They were not hardened criminals. Some had been convicted of simply refusing to pay fines for such things as local taxes. Others had been caught embezzling company money, and a few were drink drivers. Hardly the scum of the earth!

However, there were some inmates who were not especially amiable, and Hedge did his best to avoid these men. It wasn't always easy to keep out of their way though.

The worst of these was generally regarded to be a thug called Blake. He was often referred to as Big Blake, which seemed odd to Hedge as he was neither tall nor well built. He had been convicted of several counts of driving a vehicle without insurance, made more serious after he had crashed his car into a police van one Saturday evening. Most people realised however, that Blake was also involved in other kinds of criminal activities. He had a reputation in the prison as fairly nasty, and most of the inmates gave him a wide berth.

Hedge hadn't actually met Blake face to face as his cell was on another block. He was therefore a little surprised when he entered the bathroom that morning and saw Blake in front of him. He had a four other guys with him who Hedge assumed were from the same prison wing as Blake. Hedge tried to walk around this group, but they blocked his path. Blake was a balding, ugly man who wore a permanent scowl on his face, made worse because he had crooked, yellowing teeth. He looked to be around forty years old and had a bodily shape that suggested he ate more than his fair share of prison food.

Blake placed his face directly in front of Hedge's. 'So we have a new boy in town I see. Well fancy pants, I have read a few things in the newspaper about you. Seems you like to take care of young boys?' He laughed at his own comment and his henchmen chuckled along with him.

Hedge assumed he was talking about the incident in the cafe, but he said nothing. Blake kept his face close to Hedge's. It was so near that Hedge could feel his stale breath stinging his nostrils.

Blake had obviously read the details of Hedge's heroic deed in the press, as his next comment clearly referred to that.

'It seems you like to suck on plastic tubes? Well I have a tube for you to suck on.' With that, Blake released the towel he was wearing around his waist and it dropped to the floor.

Hedge tried to back away, but two of the men with Blake stood directly behind him and he was blocked from moving. He tried to step to one side but the two guys quickly grabbed his arms and held him. Blake was looking him straight in the eyes. His face was unflinching and his expression was deadly serious. Hedge tried to conjure up some confidence, but he felt vulnerable standing there in just his underwear.

He looked back at Blake and tried to sound convincing. 'Not a chance. You are really not my type, but thanks for the offer.'

Blake screwed up his face and scowled. A small dribble of spit had appeared at the corner of his mouth and started to run down his chin. He wiped it away without taking his eyes off his victim.

Hedge tried to remain calm. He looked down at Blake's naked body and then moved his head slowly back up to stare into Blake's eyes once more.

'By the way, why do they call you Big Blake? That name seems a little inappropriate to me.'

Hedge allowed a hint of a smile to cross his face but Blake just carried on glaring at him. They held their eyes on each other for a full minute longer. Neither of them flinched. Blake then looked to his left and nodded at the young man next to him, before turning back to face Hedge once more. The young man smiled, he seemed to understand what was expected of him.

Hedge hadn't really taken much notice of the young guy until now, but he was much shorter in height than Blake, significantly more youthful, and a little too thin. Perhaps it was his food that Blake was eating, he thought. The youngster looked eager to please. As soon as he had seen his master give him the signal, he leaned over, and with one of his hands he took hold of Blake's limp penis. He started to caress it, gently at first but then more vigorously.

Hedge was immediately stunned, and revolted. He automatically tried to step backwards, but the men holding his arms held firm. Being just a few inches away from Blake he could feel his breath quickening. Blake was trying to keep his face severe as he continued to stare directly at Hedge.

The young boy had now quickened his massaging strokes and was moving his hand up and down in a fast rhythm. Blake continued to stare ahead of him. He didn't blink even once, in fact he kept his whole facial expression completely rigid. His breathing quickened a little more as Hedge continued to stare back at him, unable to move away. Blake's mouth suddenly opened slightly and the yellow stained teeth from the top of his mouth became visible as he bit down on his lower lip. His breathing was faster now as the young man holding Blake squeezed tighter, and increased his rhythm yet again.

Then, without warning, Blake let out a short gasp and shut his eyes for a split second. Hedge felt a jet of warm liquid strike him on the top of his thigh and start to run down his leg. He tried not to flinch, but instead continued to look directly at the man. He felt disgusted by what had just happened but he made sure he didn't show it. He didn't want to look weak in any way in front of these thugs.

Blake's face visibly relaxed and his breathing started to return to normal. He continued to look menacingly at Hedge. A few moments later he clicked his fingers and he and his men left the bathroom.

Hedge remained motionless for several seconds and breathed a sigh of relief. Once he had showered, he stood and reflected on the incident and felt that he had won a small victory. Even so, he wasn't convinced that he had seen the last of Blake.

# Chapter Nine

Life in the prison continued with the same steady routine, and the next few weeks passed by without too much for Hedge to be concerned about.

Blake had continued to annoy him, of course, but there were no further incidents like the one that had occurred in the bathroom. However, Blake had made sure that Hedge was aware of his presence. One of Blake's men had punched Hedge in the stomach for no apparent reason as he walked in the prison courtyard. He had not reacted to that provocation – better to keep a low profile, he thought. On another occasion, Blake had spat in Hedge's mug of tea during breakfast one morning. These were isolated incidents though, and he didn't trouble himself over them too much.

The prison guards at Saltmarsh were generally decent guys and Hedge got on well with most of them. One particular officer, known as Joey, was especially friendly towards him. The cells at open prisons were not locked for most of the day, and Joey would often come along to Hedge's room for a chat. It was on one such talk that Joey revealed that he was in financial difficulties, mainly due to him and his wife having private fertility treatment. They were desperate to have children but they were having trouble conceiving. The doctor's fees were expensive and so far it had cost him more than thirty thousand pounds. He couldn't afford that on his prison officer's salary. He was deep in debt.

'Well if I needed to make some big money fast, I would gamble a few quid on the stock exchange,' Hedge said jokingly, and laughed. 'According to the judge at my trial, I am Mr Big when it comes to financial expertise.'

Joey missed the joke, maybe as a consequence of his desperation.

'Do you think it's possible to make some quick money then,' Joey said with a hopeful look in his eye.

'Well it's possible, but it helps if you know what you are doing,' Hedge said. He was a little more serious than he had been with his previous comment.

'It's quite a specialist thing buying stocks and shares, but having said that, occasionally a potential opportunity does arise. Not that I am an expert, but I have made a few successful investments in the past. More recently, I have been following a particular business through articles written about it in the newspapers. It is a company called Royal Canadian Oil, or RCO for short. They have just had a major oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico and their share price has dropped from $3.95 a share to around $2.10 in a matter of days. A couple of months ago they were trading at $4.35 a share, which I believe is closer to the company's real value. Once the fuss has died down over the spillage, the share price should revert back somewhere close to normal.'

Joey was listening intently. 'So you reckon there is money to be made investing in this RCO business then?'

'Possibly, but it's always risky. Better to leave that kind of thing to the big boys. Luckily Joey you have no money to invest, so it's not something you need to worry about.'

They both laughed at that, and the friendly guard left the cell and carried on with his rounds.

A few days after this conversation, they bumped into each other again in the prison grounds. Joey seemed keen to talk about RCO.

'Have you noticed that the share price has started to rise? $2.22 yesterday and $2.35 today,' he said. 'It's definitely on the way up, just like you said. It looks like it's returning to its normal value then don't you think?'

'It certainly appears that way, so it's a pity we didn't buy into it,' said Hedge with a smile.

Joey looked nervously at Hedge, his mouth was twitching slightly, and then he blurted out, 'I did buy. I took your advice. I bought fifty thousand pounds worth.'

'But where ....'

'I mortgaged my house. I managed to persuade my wife that all our troubles would be over. I told her I had cast-iron advice on it. She was a bit worried but finally agreed. I said we could double our money in a matter of weeks, as you said.'

'What the hell...,' started Hedge.

'In fact I told some of the other guards, and quite a few have also invested, including the governor. He knows a little about stocks and shares, and he had a good look at it. He agrees with you that it appears to be a solid investment opportunity, so he's decided to go in with one hundred thousand pounds, all taken from his own savings.'

Hedge was horrified. He tried to explain that he had not in fact given him any such advice. He had merely mentioned it in passing. What on earth were they all thinking? He had to get them to recover their money as quickly as possible. They clearly didn't realise the risks of such an investment, especially during the current period of high volatility in the financial markets.

Hedge hardly slept that night. He planned to go and see the governor the next day and try to unravel the whole mess. He would have to advise the prison staff to sell their shares before any serious damage was done. Then he would explain that Joey hadn't listened to him about the risks of buying shares. Surely they all knew that there were no guarantees with this kind of investment.

Waking early the next morning, he went directly to the prison common room to see if he could catch the business news at seven o'clock. The announcer was predicting a busy day in the markets today as quite a lot was going on around the world. Hedge listened to the main headlines as they were being read out.

European employment data was due shortly and was expected to be positive.

China growth was up again and Asian markets were improving.

It was the third item on the news that was of particular interest to him. The United States authorities had decided to impose massive fines on the oil company RCO following its recent pollution of the Gulf of Mexico.

When the stock exchange opened that day, RCO shares had crashed to around $1.80 a share.

# Chapter Ten

As the prison staff, including the governor, had bought RCO shares at a price around $2.30 each, they had lost almost a quarter of their money in a matter of two days. Joey would have lost something like twelve thousand pounds from his initial investment. The prison governor would be down a lot more than that.

Hedge tried to find Joey, but he wasn't on duty, and the rest of the prison staff didn't seem to want to talk to him. He kept a low profile for the rest of the day, waiting for his chance to catch up with Joey the following morning. The RCO share price didn't move very much in the meantime, it seemed to have settled at its new lower price. All the news regarding the company seemed to be negative, and it was clear that the shareholders were feeling uneasy following the announcement by the US government. The outlook for the company looked bleak.

The day passed all too slowly, but the following morning Hedge noticed that his cell wasn't unlocked at the normal time. He tried to complain but no one responded to his shouts. It was eventually opened just after nine o'clock – too late for breakfast.

When Hedge went for a walk in the prison grounds later that same day, he was hungry, and nervous. He still hadn't managed to speak to the governor. He would have to try again before lunch time. As he was walking, he was stopped abruptly by Blake and a couple of his mates near an area where several of the prisoners kept their own small gardens. Blake was holding a digging fork and he leaned on it casually as he spoke to Hedge.

'Seems you have been upsetting some people around here young man.'

Hedge went to walk past Blake but the two thugs he had bought with him blocked his escape route.

Hedge looked around to see if he could attract the attention of any of the prison staff, but unusually there were none in sight. There was always at least one guard in the grounds, but not today seemingly.

'It appears that you owe some people I know a lot of money then,' Blake continued. 'How do you plan to pay that back, smart arse?'

Hedge stared Blake in the eye and hissed, 'get out of my way, needledick.'

Blake looked enraged. He lifted the garden fork and brought it down on top of Hedge's left foot. The fork was made of stainless steel and had four prongs each around twelve inches long. The ends were sharpened to a point so that they could enter the ground easily when digging up shrubs, or turning soil. It was one of the central prongs that entered Hedge's shoe midway between his toes and the bridge of his foot.

Hedge screamed in pain and collapsed on the floor. He felt certain that he had heard the crunch of bone as the fork had pierced his foot. He tried to pull it out but it was stuck firmly in the ground. Blood had started seeping from the top of his shoe. He tried to twist his foot away from the fork but that just made the pain more intolerable. His eyes started to lose focus and he felt lightheaded. He just managed to see his three attackers running off before he blacked out completely.

Hedge awoke a few hours later, assuming it was late evening as it was dark outside. As he looked around he recognised the hospital wing of the prison. He was in a bed with white sheets covering his lower body, and he felt groggy and confused. There were several men standing around his bed, all with stern faces. He recognised Joey and the prison governor, but not the other two guards.

'What's going on? What's happened to me?' he mumbled.

The governor stared back at him with a serious expression. 'It looks like you have had a nasty accident out on the prison grounds. The equipment sign out sheet says that you borrowed a garden fork this afternoon, in order to do some digging, I can only presume. We have a witness who said he saw you deliberately thrust the fork into your own shoe.'

'That's not true,' protested Hedge.

'Perhaps you thought that would be a good way for you to get a little piece and quiet in the hospital wing for a few days, or maybe you were hoping for a transfer to a recovery unit. An escape attempt even, perhaps? You should be aware that we take these events very seriously.'

'It wasn't like that at all, in fact I was....'

The governor held his hand up firmly to cut him off from further comment.

'Anyway, the prison doctor has taken a good look at your left foot, and the injury was much worse than we initially thought. He tried his best, but the doctor was unable to save it. He had to amputate your left leg just below the knee.'

# Chapter Eleven

Hedge couldn't believe what he had just heard. He looked down at his left leg but it was covered with the white sheet. He tried to reach down to it, but the pain of moving was too much and he lay back against the pillow.

'You bastards,' he screamed.

He was suddenly overcome with horror at the thought of losing part of his leg. His mind was racing and his heart seemed to be beating loudly in his head. 'What the hell have you done to me?'

The men standing around his bed started laughing.

'Well you should be careful when you give out financial advice,' said one of the guards.

Hedge tried to pull himself up but the pain was too much.

'It was not my advice that you idiots should go out and buy any shares. It was a casual conversation only. I was certainly not suggesting that you invest your own money. Joey, I can't believe you have been so stupid.'

This kind of language directed at prison guards wouldn't normally be tolerated, but again the men around Hedge's bed just burst into laughter.

Joey looked down at Hedge and a smile developed on his lips. 'Well it's just as well I am stupid as it seems I may have done the right thing after all. While you have been lazing around in bed, the United States government have decided not to impose fines on RCO after all, as they now believe it's not in the national interest. The share price closed today at $2.95 each and it appears to be continuing to improve. I personally have made almost fifteen thousand pounds and hope for more in the next few days.'

All the men laughed once more and one of the guards slapped Hedge on the shoulder.

'But my leg.....'

Joey pulled the sheet down to reveal two legs still fully intact. 'Just our little joke,' he said. 'No amputation just a bit of pain for a while. One or two of the guards got a bit carried away when they heard the initial bad news about the falling share price. Please accept our apologies for that. We'll make sure you get all the attention you need to make a full recovery.'

Hedge was still a little groggy and still felt considerable pain in his foot.

'What about Blake? He's a madman that guy. I need some sort of protection from him in future.'

'There's no need for that,' said the Governor. 'He's been transferred with immediate effect to a more secure prison, where he should have been from the start. He won't be troubling you anymore. In the meantime you have more important things to think about.'

'Like what,' said Hedge. He didn't mean to snap at the Governor, but he was still reeling from the sick prank that had been played on him.

'Like your upcoming sentence review meeting,' said Joey. 'The Governor has put you forward to the Review Board. They meet in exactly two weeks from now. With your record of good behaviour you should stand an excellent chance of obtaining an early release.'

So it was that fourteen days later Hedge found himself standing in front of the Review Board. The panel was made up of two elderly gentlemen and a middle aged woman. Most of the meeting was spent with the members of the Board reviewing documents that had been submitted by the Governor. There was lots of nodding and whispering.

After a while Hedge was asked by the woman if he felt he had learnt a lesson from his time in prison. He nodded and said that he had. As he stood in front of the three people who now controlled his immediate future, he could still feel the throb in his foot. There was however no mention of the incident with Blake and the garden fork. The Governor had advised him just to focus on the positive points of his stay at Saltmarsh. Well he would, wouldn't he, thought Hedge.

Apart from continuing to keep his prison out of the spotlight, the Governor had also made a significant amount of money. He had finally sold his shares in RCO at a large premium, which meant he had made a profit of around sixty five thousand pounds from his initial investment of one hundred thousand. He had good reason to be pleased with Hedge.

The three Board members continued to whisper and debate until finally the verdict was read out by one of the elderly men.

'We are recommending that due to exceptional good behaviour, you be released from Saltmarsh with immediate effect. We hope never to see you standing before us again. Goodbye.'

# Chapter Twelve

Since his release from Saltmarsh, Hedge had returned home and tried to figure out what he was going to do about his future. He had lost his job as a result of his prison sentence. That hadn't stopped him going back to his previous workplace on a few occasions to look up old friends. Several of them had joined him for lunch at the Cafe Roma occasionally, where they talked about old times, and also about the future.

He concluded that it was finally time to move on, and so he decided to pay one last visit to his favourite cafe. It was a particularly bright day in early spring, and Hedge was sitting alone. He had ordered a pot of tea, and had just finished a slice of freshly baked apple pie. It was a strange feeling knowing that he would probably never come here again.

He was considering going back to college or university and seeing if he could retrain. Maybe a Psychology course might be interesting. He had met some unusual men in prison, and he realised that there were many people out there who needed help to manage their lives.

He was looking around the cafe as he was thinking. His thought pattern was interrupted by the person sitting at a table over near the door. As he glanced over in that direction again, he quickly understood why his attention had been so easily distracted.

She was gorgeous, and Hedge was struggling to take his eyes off her. Her face had a light tan, like someone who had been on a long Mediterranean holiday. She had jet black hair which hung just below her shoulders. From where he was sitting he couldn't see the colour of her eyes, but her face looked perfectly smooth. He estimated she was in her mid-twenties, but guessing the age of women was not one of his strong points.

In fact women generally were not a good subject for him, as he was well aware. His relationship with Louise was the last time he had really talked to a female properly. Although he was fast approaching thirty, he had previously had very few proper girlfriends. His most serious relationship was with a trainee nurse called Sally. She was a lovely girl, he recalled, with a lively personality, and she had worked at a leading London hospital. Although she had initially confessed to falling in love with him, in the end she accused him of being boring and unromantic, and had moved on to date a Junior Doctor from the same hospital. Good luck to them, he thought.

He was still staring at the young woman. She was sitting alone, drinking from a small cup and reading a magazine. He carried on glaring at her, but then looked away quickly when she cast her eyes in his direction. He continued to pan around the room, but he couldn't help himself and his stare was drawn back to where she sat. She was now looking directly at him and so he quickly glanced down towards the empty plate in front of him. He felt a little uneasy. He toyed nervously with his knife and fork, moving them together on his plate and making sure they were both pointing in the direction he was facing. Somehow that very simple act felt very comforting.

If he had more confidence he would have smiled at her, or even gone over and spoken directly to her. But he didn't have that kind of self-assurance, so he pretended to continue to busy himself by drinking the remains of his tea.

As he put his cup down he noticed that the girl had stood up from her seat and was walking over towards him. Probably coming over to the counter to pay her bill, he thought to himself. The next thing he became aware of was that she had sat down at his table, in the chair next to him.

'I don't like to see a good looking man like you eating alone, is it alright if I sit here,' she said.

'Of course,' he replied 'no problem.'

In fact, he thought to himself, it was a problem, as he now realised that up close she was much more attractive than she had been from further away. Her eyes were bright green and almost dazzling. Her smile was radiant and she looked at him in a way that made him feel a little dizzy. He felt very nervous and a bit choked up. He could sense himself sweating lightly under his shirt, and he couldn't hold his cup steady in his hand. He felt like he did when he met a girl on a date for the first time. It was a waste of time trying to continue drinking, as his hands were trembling so much, so he turned his attention to the girl. He tried to shake off the inadequate feelings and attempted to show a little confidence.

'Hi, my name is Hedge. I haven't seen you in here before.'

'That's no surprise,' she said, 'I'm on holiday in London for a few days with a friend and we've only just arrived.'

Hedge immediately realised that she was probably from overseas, as her accent seemed to suggest to him someone from the eastern Mediterranean area, maybe Turkey or Greece perhaps. He started to over-think – something he often did when he was nervous. Surely saying that someone was from Turkey or Greece would sound very rude to a person from one of those countries. These two places are miles apart in terms of culture and language. It was probably the same as someone from Turkey saying a person was either English or French. Anyway Hedge had to stop this train of thought as the girl was talking again.

'My name is Monica and I was going to ask you if you know anyone who offers guided tours of the Central London area.'

He started to think, was this a genuine request or had she taken a fancy to him? Was this part of a game she was playing to get him interested in her?

He couldn't make up his mind. He leant over the table and moved the salt pot a little closer to the pepper container. It was in the wrong position as it was – there was too much space between them!

'I'll ask around for you and let you know. Do you have a phone number and I'll drop you a message later.'

Monica replied a little abruptly. 'No, I don't have a contact number as my cell phone doesn't do roaming. Why don't you call by later today and let me know. I have to go now. Come round at about four o'clock this afternoon and ask for me. It's the Royal Hotel just at the end of Green Lane. It's just round the corner from here. See you later.'

With that, she got up and walked off. He followed her with his eyes until she had left the cafe and then he watched her head off in the direction of Oxford Street. He was slightly dazed by the brief conversation, but not at all sure what he should do next. He knew a few good local guides, but was that really what she was after? He couldn't decide. Would he then be confident enough to go along to her hotel later in the day? He couldn't decide that either. He pondered it while he paid his bill, laid a small tip on the table and left the cafe.

The rest of the afternoon went quickly. He did a bit of shopping and had a haircut at a local barber shop. At exactly four o'clock he found himself walking into the entrance of the Royal Hotel. The place seemed a little run down to him, particularly as this was a relatively smart area of London, but the man on reception was pleasant enough and directed him up to a first floor room when he mentioned Monica's name. It seems she had given him advance warning that a young man would be calling for her at around this time.

He reached the first floor, and walked along a short hallway until he found the room number he was given. He knocked on the door, although he still had no idea how he was going to play this. Would he suggest he acts as a guide to Monica and her friend, or should he pass on some names of tour companies that he knew of?

Before he had decided, the room door opened and Monica stood in front of him. She was wearing a short black skirt and a plain black t-shirt. Her eyes sparkled, as they had done when he had first met her earlier that day. Her lips were a deep, glossy red and her complexion looked smooth and soft. Overall, thought Hedge, she looked sensational. Something stirred in the pit of his stomach, and he felt his breathing start to quicken.

He wasn't certain, but he sensed something very memorable was about to happen.

# Chapter Thirteen

Monica smiled at Hedge seductively as she opened the door. 'I'm so glad you came along.'

She then leaned forward and hooked her arm around his neck and kissed him square on the lips. Her boldness took him by surprise, and he wasn't sure how to react. Then Monica took him by the hand and pulled him into the room. Before he knew it, they were locked in another embrace. Her lips were soft against his and her breath was hot. She didn't say anything as she pushed him onto a large bed on one side of the room. He tried to take his jacket off but she sat on top of him and prevented him from moving. She kissed him again, roughly this time, and pushed his hands above his head. She started kissing his neck and shoulders, and had then ripped open his shirt and was running her tongue down his chest. Next, she pulled her skirt up a little more so that she could comfortably straddle his chest. She sat astride him, with her legs spread apart, and she continued to press her lips to his, while gently caressing his shoulders and chest.

Eventually she pulled her mouth away from his, and reaching forward she plucked something metallic and shiny from under the large, white pillow. It was a set of steel handcuffs. With amazing speed she clamped one of his hands in the cuffs, pushed the chain round the central bar on the headboard of the bed, and clamped the other hand. He could not now move his hands, and was unsure whether he thought this was intensely arousing or seriously worrying. He tried to pull on the handcuffs but the chain just clattered against the headboard frame and his hands remained stuck.

'Don't worry,' Monica said, 'I won't hurt you, just lay back and enjoy the ride.'

She laughed seductively, and then stood up on the bed and removed her underwear. She kept the little skirt on, but pulled the T-shirt off over her head.

Hedge looked at her near naked body and felt incredibly aroused, but also a little nervous. He was not a confident person at the best of times and so he found this situation unsettling. Monica was busy undressing him. She pulled off his shoes, trousers and underwear and sat down roughly on his groin. She moved on top of him for a few seconds and then reached down and pushed him inside her.

Hedge was finding this all very strange, but also intensely exciting. What was happening to him? Just thirty minutes ago he was sitting in a barber shop having his hair washed and cut, and now he was having sex with a beautiful young woman, who he had only met a few hours earlier. She was now moving vigorously on top of him and he noticed that her eyes were rolling slowly, and she was moaning gently.

Suddenly she pushed down on him hard and let out a loud scream. Her body shook violently and she clenched her teeth. She held her mouth tightly shut for several seconds. Her body stopped its rhythmic movements, and she sat on top of him for a while longer. Her eyes were closed and her breathing was fast and shallow. Her hands were gripping his arms tightly. Then her eyes flicked open, and she looked directly down at him. She was smiling softly, and her eyes sparkled brightly.

She started to move again deliberately up and down. Hedge felt like he was in some kind of strange dream. Seeing her climax had sent him to a new level of arousal, and her slow movements were giving him acute pleasure. He couldn't stop himself, nor did he want to. He arched his back and groaned loudly as he pushed up inside her. Monica felt his short spasms and then she slowed and finally stopped her movements.

He lay there breathing heavily for a while. Then, without warning, she jumped up and headed in the direction of what he assumed was the bathroom. He could hear the toilet being flushed and then a few moments later she was back. She had dressed herself again, the black T-shirt was back on and her face looked like it had been washed. Hedge went to move his arms but realised he was still held firmly to the bed head by the handcuffs.

'How about letting me loose,' he said, 'I promise to behave.'

Monica didn't reply and instead pulled a length of blue nylon rope from under the bed and quickly looped the two ends onto each of his feet and secured them to the bottom of the bed frame. This was not what Hedge had expected and he started to feel slightly nervous again. Perhaps she had some more pleasure in store for him, but he sensed her mood had changed.

She Monica said nothing. Then she disappeared into the bathroom again, and returned carrying what appeared to be a short length of plastic coated wire and some heavy duty scissors. She used the scissors to cut away the rest of the clothes.

'Hey careful, that's an expensive jacket,' he said.

The young woman said nothing, and just carried on her work with the scissors. His jacket and shirt were cut away, then the socks pulled off, and finally he was lying naked on the bed, unable to move very much as the handcuffs and the rope were holding him securely in position.

His legs were spread wide apart so that his genitals were on full display, and this was the area that Monica now transferred her attention to. With her small fingers she grabbed hold of his scrotum and pulled it down away from his body as far as it would go. She then tied the plastic coated wire round the top of the scrotum and pulled the wire tight.

Hedge was panic stricken. 'Hey, what are you doing, let me go now, this isn't funny anymore.'

Monica looked at him with a hard stare, grabbed hold of his scrotum with her left hand, and picked up the heavy duty scissors.

She leaned over and whispered in his ear. 'Blake asked me to say hello!'

# Chapter Fourteen

Within a matter of a few minutes Hedge had gone from a state of intense pleasure to one of extreme terror.

'What the hell are you doing?' he shouted at Monica.

She laughed. and touched the end of the scissors to his groin.

'Uncle Blake asked me to do him a favour. Apparently he didn't like being moved from Saltmarsh. He blames you for some reason. Do you know what I'm talking about?'

He knew exactly what she was referring to. 'It wasn't my fault they moved him. He fell out with the governor over something. It was nothing to do with me.'

Monica looked like she didn't care either way. She had received her instructions, along with a substantial payment, and so she was going to carry on regardless of what he said. She was about to reply to him, when was interrupted by a sharp knock at the hotel room door.

He thought about shouting out for help but the embarrassment of his position stopped him from doing so. As if reading his thoughts, Monica pulled out a reel of brown tape that she had left under the bed, ripped off a strip around eight inches long and fixed it roughly across his mouth. He tried to open his lips, but they were stuck fast.

Being taped like this was one of those nightmare situations he had often thought about as a small boy. He had worried endlessly about not being able to open his mouth and someone then putting a washing peg or something similar on his nose. This would then lead to a horrible, suffocating death. He started to feel panicky, but told himself to calm down and relax. He tried to breathe slowly and deeply through his nose.

Then his attention was distracted as Monica was opening the door and another woman was entering the room. She looked older than Monica, maybe ten years older. She had short, light coloured hair and a slim figure. Her eyes looked slightly oriental, he thought, but she didn't have the typical dark complexion of someone from Asia. She was dressed conservatively in black trousers and a dark blue top. There was an air of authority about her as she walked confidently in to the room.

The two women embraced and held each other close. They were obviously friends.

'It's good to see you again Monica, how are you?' said the older woman. She spoke in English, but with a drawling kind of accent.

'Anna, it's good to see you too. I am well thanks, and trying to keep out of trouble.'

Both women laughed as they moved apart and focussed their attention on the man secured to the bed.

'So this is the guy you phoned me about,' the older woman said.

'Yes. My uncle seemed to think he came from a very wealthy family, so I thought you would be interested in talking to him before.....' Monica cut herself off, without explaining what came next.

'Well, you never know, the family might be of interest. It wouldn't hurt to utilise your particular qualities again, especially as you have been so successful in the past. I don't know how you manage to catch their interest, but you do it so well. I am very impressed with the way you get those high quality photographs. Have you found out much about him yet?'

Monica replied 'no, not yet, but we have had some fun'! She laughed, and the older woman looked at her with an astonished grin.

'You are such a tart, but then I suppose he is fairly good looking. Anyway, I can't stay long so let's get him talking.'

Both women came back to the bed and sat down either side of him. Monica picked up the scissors and ripped the tape from his mouth.

Hedge started to speak. 'What the hell....,' but Monica slapped him hard around the face.

'Shut up,' she said. 'My dear uncle Blake had asked me to send him your testicles, although the guards will get quite a shock when they check out that particular parcel.'

Hedge was terrified. 'Let me go, please. This isn't funny. Please ...'

'It's not supposed to be funny.' Monica's voice was harsh. 'Uncle Blake has asked me to do this for him, and he is paying me very well. Please don't take it so personally.'

Hedge couldn't believe what he was hearing. How could you not take it personally when someone was about to slice off your scrotum?

'Please,' he was begging now, 'just let me go. I won't say anything about this.'

Monica just laughed.

Then she turned to the other woman. 'Before I do what I need to, he's all yours. His uncle is not a politician, which is a pity as those guys are usually so easy to manipulate.' Anna smiled and looking down, she cupped her breasts with both hands. 'And they seem to like me for some reason.' She giggled girlishly.

Anna touched her on the shoulder. 'I'm not surprised. If I were a man, I would easily fall in to your trap. You are extremely desirable, and you know it.'

Monica feigned a hurt look, before her face creased into a smile. 'They are so gullible. I think the Foreign Secretary actually fell in love with me you know.'

Anna shook her head in disbelief.

Monica's tone had become more serious. 'He's not involved in government, but Blake tells me that this guy's uncle is filthy rich.'

Anna nodded. 'I'm interested, of course. We need to know a bit more about this uncle of his. How wealthy is he? What kind of women he likes? He does like women, doesn't he? Otherwise we may be wasting our time. If he likes women, then he can be tempted. And if he can be tempted, then he can be blackmailed. And you get another lucrative piece of work.'

Monica turned back to face Hedge. She still held the scissors menacingly in her hand. 'My friend here is going to ask you some questions. If you answer them satisfactorily then your testicles may well remain attached to your body. If you don't tell her exactly what she wants to know, then these scissors are perfectly capable of severing your scrotum. I will cut just below the wire and so you won't bleed too much, but you will never have full sex again.'

Hedge was terrified. What could he possibly tell these women that would be of any value? He tried to pull his arms free again but the handcuffs held him fixed to the bed. He often thought that maybe he was a tough person, who had endured a lot and who didn't frighten easily, but he was now in a severe state of panic. He tried to scream but Monica put her hand over his mouth. He felt his head spinning and his eyes lost focus, his mind was racing beyond control, he couldn't think clearly. He was breathing rapidly and he felt like he was hyperventilating – that terrifying condition that occurs during panic, when you try to breathe more, and end up breathing too much.

He felt himself about to faint. His anxiety was at a severe level. The thought of having his testicles cut off by a pair of scissors seemed horrific. A state of utter delirium had taken over him. Then it occurred to him that Monica, in her conversation with the other woman, had just revealed some very incriminating information. Was that because he wouldn't live to tell anyone about it?

His mind was racing again. Then, without warning, he lost control of his bladder. Bright yellow urine started to spray out across the bed. It covered his body and soaked the sheets he was lying on. The two women just laughed and quickly jumped up from where they were sitting on the edge of the bed.

Monica found this hilarious. 'Well if he's pissed himself he must be pretty scared.'

'Bloody hell,' Anna had quickly stopped laughing. 'Go and get something to clean him up with. He's made an awful mess here. There must be some towels in the bathroom.'

Hedge lay quietly in a state of shock as they did their best to soak up his urine. As they busied themselves with their unpleasant task, the two women watched him intently and only started talking again when he seemed settled. Anna leaned closer and began to ask him some questions.

'What's your full name? Where do you live? How long have you lived there? Who lives there with you? Tell me about your cousin? What does your uncle do exactly? How much do you think he is worth?

The questioning went on for a few minutes. He answered in a slow, deliberate monologue. He told her his full name was Tom Millar, but everyone called him Hedge.

The address he gave was in the borough of Twickenham, a smart suburb on the edge of the capital, and he shared the house with his cousin Isaac. They had been living there together for the last three and a half years. Isaac moved out from his parent's home as he wanted a bit more independence. He got on well with Hedge, and it seemed the ideal thing to do. It also reduced his commute to work, as Isaac was employed by an advertising agency based in the neighbouring borough of Richmond. He told her about his uncle, where he worked and what he did. He had no idea how much his uncle was worth, but thought it would be several million pounds.

Anna continued the questioning with a more serious tone. 'Has your uncle ever had any affairs with other women? Do you have access to your uncle's work diary? What is the name of his secretary? Who does he bank with, and what accounts does he have?

She pulled out a small Dell laptop computer from a black bag she had brought with her, opened it and started to power it up. Hedge was somewhat calmer now and he started to think a little clearer. Anna was obviously considering lining his uncle up for some kind of extortion.

His mind drifted away from the questions he had been asked, and he wondered why in films the victims of torture are always portrayed as not giving up information until they have endured a certain amount of pain. As things stood, he would have told them anything they wanted to know without hesitation. He was very conscious of the pain in his testicles due to the plastic coated wire wrapped tightly around them.

'I know he banks with Barclays, one of the central London branches,' he replied. 'But I have no idea of the accounts that he has with them.'

'Never mind the detail. I can deal with that.' Anna replied casually.

She started tapping the keys of the laptop, only stopping occasionally to ask him some further piece of information about his uncle.

After about fifteen minutes she stopped typing, and looked up at Hedge with a satisfied grin. 'It seems he does have a lot of substantial accounts with Barclays bank, including some money held in foreign currencies.'

Hedge didn't know how she had done it, but the woman seemed to have accessed the banks records and tracked down some of his uncle's funds.

'He is a very wealthy man, your uncle. He certainly won't miss a couple of million pounds. You have been very helpful to me.'

She closed the laptop and put it back into her bag.

'Monica, I'll leave you to finish up here. Thanks for the tip off about this. Our organisation will be pleased with this information. We will be in touch if we need you to assist with this one. You will get the usual payment, of course. Take care and see you soon.'

Anna looked round at Hedge and smiled. 'Enjoy yourselves. Oh and by the way, Monica may be a bit of a tart, but she is also a psychopath.' She laughed, and then left the room.

Hedge could hear her footsteps retreating down the hallway. Monica had gone back into the bathroom, and he was wondering what was going to happen next. Hopefully he would be released, with his bodily parts intact, and he could report the incident to the police, and his uncle. But, what did the woman mean about Monica being a psychopath? He started to worry again just as she reappeared with a devilish look on her face. Monica was carrying a small clear plastic bag.

Leaning over him she whispered softly. 'It was great being your lover, even if it was a little brief.' She laughed and then pulled the plastic bag over his head and fixed it tightly around his neck with a length of the same tape that she had gagged him with earlier. She then picked up the scissors, opened them, and placed the two blades around his scrotum.

'I have always had a fixation about doing this,' she said with an evil grin. 'I wanted to see how painful it really was.' She looked at him intently as if waiting for his reaction.

Hedge was panic stricken yet again. He shouted out but he wasn't sure what he was saying as his voice was muffled by the plastic bag. He could feel the air in the bag getting hot, and his breathing became suddenly more difficult. Each gasp for air seemed to leave him still needing more oxygen. He was panicking and he couldn't stop himself. His vision started to blur. Was it the terror of his situation, the lack of air getting to his lungs, or because his breath was fogging up the inside of the plastic covering his head?

He started to go dizzy. He was still screaming, or he thought he was, but he couldn't hear himself. Bright shapes started to jump around in front of his eyes. He was desperately trying to free his hands, but the more he pulled on the handcuffs, the deeper the metal cut into his wrists.

Then three things happened all at once.

First, he heard a loud bang and saw a large hole appear in the wall immediately behind his head. Second, a small red hole appeared on Monica's forehead, and third and perhaps most concerning to him, Monica's hand clamped down hard on the handle of the scissors causing the blades to snap together.

# Chapter Fifteen

Hedge felt that he must have passed out for a few minutes, but in fact it was only seconds. He awoke in a total state of confusion. The room was full of dust and noise. People were shouting and it was completely dark. A body was lying on top of him and he was covered in a warm, sticky liquid which he could feel running off his chest. Then, without warning, a bright torch snapped its light on and the plastic bag was ripped off his head.

He could see the outline of a man, dressed in a dark uniform, standing directly in front of him. The man held what looked like a pistol in one hand, and Hedge noticed that it had a long barrel, possibly a silencer, he thought. The guy pulled off his facemask and looked down at Hedge. Then he started laughing. He laughed until Hedge could clearly see tears coming down his face. He turned away from Hedge and doubled over, howling to himself. Eventually he had to sit on the bed in order to control his hysterics.

He looked at Hedge again. 'Sorry mate, but you do have to see the funny side of this. There you lay in a pool of piss and blood, covered in dust, a naked, dead girl lying across you, and your testicles all red and swollen from being wired up.'

He chuckled again loudly as he obviously found his summary of the situation quite hilarious. 'Still,' he added, 'I must say, you have got balls, although only just!'

This last comment made him burst into hysterics again, and once more he was doubled up with the pain of so much laughter. Hedge looked down at his groin area with a worried expression. There was blood all over his lower stomach and his upper legs.

'Shit, what's happened to me,' he shouted.

Monica's inert body was lying across him, blood seeping from a small hole at the front of her head. Another man, also in a dark uniform, had come over and was cutting him free from the handcuffs and the rope. Once his hands were released, he rubbed them together for a few moments, trying to get the blood flowing again. His wrists were red and sore where the metal edges of the handcuffs had cut into his skin.

He managed to sit up slightly. Pushing Monica off him, he saw that she was still clasping the scissors tightly in her lifeless hand. The blades of the scissors were closed firmly together, and they were covered in blood – his blood. The pain emanating from his groin was intolerable, and he realised with horror what had been done to him. He felt lightheaded and thought he was about to pass out again. With one final effort before he did so, he reached down and tried to clear some of the blood from his lower body, wiping it away with his bare hands.

Then slowly, his eyes examined his groin, and he realised with relief that his testicles were untouched and still firmly attached.

The man with the pistol had stopped laughing at last.

He looked down and saw Hedge's reaction. 'That was a lucky escape. The impact of the bullet seems to have made her arm swing a few inches downwards. I could say I thought that would happen when I shot her, but that would be a lie. More of a calculated risk really. She appears to have shaved off a few pubic hairs, but that's about it.'

He chuckled to himself once more.

Hedge was starting to get irritated by just how funny this guy found the whole situation. He was about to say something in protest, but the man moved towards him and offered his outstretched hand.

'Pleased to meet you, my name is Cole, and my colleague here is Fuller. You had better go and get yourself cleaned up as you owe us both a drink.'

Hedge climbed tentatively off the bed, and stumbled the short distance to the bathroom. Once safely inside, he locked the door. He was still in a state of shock, as he stepped into the small shower cubicle. Using his sore hands, he spent a few minutes desperately trying to release himself from the plastic wire. When he finally did so, a bolt of pain shot through his testicles as blood started to flow back into his groin.

He turned the shower on and let the lukewarm water wash over him. He stayed like that for several minutes. There was a lot of blood that needed to be washed off, not his blood he thought with relief. As he watched the red coloured shower water run down the drain, it turned lighter in colour and then eventually ran clear.

He stepped out of the shower and towelled himself dry. He checked his wrists to see the damage, they looked much worse than they felt. Fresh clothes had been provided by his rescuers, so he put them on. His own clothes had been ruined when Monica had cut them off him.

He came out of the bathroom nervously, only to find Cole arguing with an older man dressed in a smart, dark grey suit.

'How did you manage to lose her, that's complete incompetence,' Cole was shouting.

'Well you were told not to kill anyone, but look over there and tell me what you see, a dead girl. How the hell are you going to explain that?'

The older man had the air of a high ranking official, although if he was, then the man known as Cole didn't seem to respect his position.

'Fuck you,' Cole said as he turned away from the older man. Then he looked across at Fuller. 'Come on, let's get out of here. Bring our new friend here.'

He nodded towards Hedge as he stormed off.

# Chapter Sixteen

An hour later, the three of them were sat at a corner table in a small coffee shop close to Regents Park. Cole and Fuller had taken off their black jackets and over trousers and stuffed them into a large, green holdall they had bought with them. Hedge assumed that they had also placed their weapons in the bag. The pair of them looked and acted very casual, almost as if they had just returned from playing a round of golf. In fact, they had just rescued him from a potentially painful death and executed a young girl while they were about it. They both looked completely untroubled.

Hedge on the other hand was tired, frightened and still somewhat confused by his ordeal. A waiter approached and Cole ordered three coffees.

'Actually ..... I'll have a tea..... please,' Hedge stuttered.

'Certainly,' said the waiter, and he walked off.

Cole and Fuller chatted to each other while they all waited for the drinks to arrive. Hedge was still amazed at how relaxed they seemed to be after what had just happened.

Eventually the waiter returned and placed two coffees on the table. Then he put a china cup down in front of Hedge, followed by a white teapot and a small jug.

The waiter leaned over the table. 'Allow me to make the tea for you,' he said, and he started to trickle some cold milk into the cup.

Hedge looked horrified. 'Stop, no no,' he shouted, and moved to place his hand over the cup. He then pushed the cup away from him, and it tipped over and split the milk on the table.

'What the hell! I don't need that right now,' he shouted.

The waiter pulled the milk away, with an apologetic air. He produced a damp cloth and started wiping up the spillage.

Cole and Fuller were both looking at Hedge. They couldn't believe how he had overreacted to the waiter pouring out the milk. Hedge was trembling, and his breathing had gone quite erratic. He eyes were looking very distant, and his lips had turned blue.

'It's just a bit of milk. No need for all the fireworks,' Cole said.

'Are you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost,' said Fuller.

Hedge was still shaking, but he slowly managed to get his breathing under control.

'I'm okay. It's just been a very stressful day, that's all. It's nothing. I'll be fine in a moment,' Hedge said quietly. He wasn't about to tell them how much milk sometimes unsettled him. They would have thought he was an idiot. They had laughed at him enough for one day.

Cole and Fuller started to drink their coffee. They both studied Hedge as he slowly calmed himself down.

Cole finished his drink and began to give Hedge some background on the events of the day. He explained that they had been tracking the girl known as Anna ever since she had entered the UK two weeks ago. The woman was on an MI5 watch list and her name had been flagged up as she passed through immigration at Heathrow. It turns out that she had been contacted by an old friend who they now knew was called Monica. They had run a background check on Monica, with the help of the Metropolitan police, and they had discovered that she came from a family with a criminal background. She was well-known in the escort business, or prostitution if you prefer to call it that. Cole and Fuller had trailed Monica to the Royal Hotel, while MI5 officers had offered to keep Anna under surveillance.

They had hoped to be able to capture Monica and try to interrogate her, but Cole and Fuller were under strict orders not to let any civilians come to any harm. Hence they decided to act when they suspected that Hedge might be seriously injured, or possibly killed.

Fuller interrupted Cole. 'Then our friends at MI5 managed to lose sight of Anna. What experts they are! So she has now disappeared and we don't know where.'

Hedge was trying to follow the explanation. It wasn't easy to concentrate after what he had been through. The tea was helping to calm him, but he still felt unnerved. What had happened to him still felt like a dream, perhaps he was going to wake up from all this at any moment. He tried to focus on what they were saying. He moved his pot of tea to the left side of the table away from his cup, and turned the handle on his cup so that it faced directly to his right. That felt better. He relaxed a little more.

'Why didn't you capture both of them in the hotel room, surely that would have been easier,' Hedge said.

'We were under orders not to intercept Anna. She is the one who could help us to track down the members of a group we are trying to break. We need to find the brains behind this gang. They are carrying out some high level extortion activities, and the government is getting worried about how effective they have become. They have blackmailed various people to the tune of several million pounds, and amongst other things, we have been asked to recover the money. Some very high ranking officials are mixed up in this and we want to ensure this story doesn't leak to the press.'

Cole went on to explain that they believed the group Anna belonged to were using some sophisticated techniques to hide the money they had extorted, and then transferred these funds abroad via several overseas bank transfers. The cash was proving difficult to track down. The gang were clever and knew that they could only withdraw the money in small, usable amounts without being detected. They had never managed to identify the leader of the group. Cole and Fuller were hoping that the woman known as Anna would help them with that.

A senior office in MI5 had given them a profile of the gang leader. He was known to be highly intelligent, and it was believed he was from overseas originally but probably now lived somewhere in the Middle East. He had used several aliases in the past, and although they had no name for him, he referred to his group as the Palindrome Cult. The use of the word 'cult' apparently derived from his devout religious connections. People who said they knew him talked of his belief that he had been anointed by god for some divine purpose. Once enough money had been amassed, he would be using it to show the world how powerful his god was. His fellow gang members were his disciples, and hence he referred to his group as a cult.

Cole wasn't sure how his contact in MI5 had managed to put together these facts, especially as they had no name for this man. In his view, they were just a criminal group, making money from extortion, and he had been given the task of hunting them down.

Fuller was even more derisory of the background information that MI5 had supplied them. 'You idiots are just making this stuff up for the hell of it,' he had insinuated at the time.

Hedge had been listening intently to all this. 'Why do they use the name Palindrome?'

'Well we have managed to resolve that at least,' Cole replied. 'A palindrome is a set of numbers or letters that mean the same when reversed. It appears that all the bank accounts we have traced so far that have been used by the gang have been such a sequence. For example, we tracked down a small deposit of Euros that belonged to the group to a numbered account in Switzerland. The account was labelled with a ten digit code - 8790220978. The number is the same forwards or backwards. The leader is obsessed these kind of sequences, apparently.'

Hedge was still trying to take all this in. The top area of his neck had begun to hurt, probably the start of a headache. He often developed migraines when he was stressed.

Cole stopped talking and ordered fresh coffee and Hedge took the opportunity to quiz him. 'So where do you guys fit in? Who are you working for, the British government?'

Cole laughed as he replied. 'Not the government as such. We are not part of any official organisation. Let's just say we work directly for a very high authority. In fact we have to go and report in to our boss. He's in a meeting at Downing Street right now.'

'So you're not with MI5 then?'

Fuller's face grimaced. 'No we are not with those wankers. They would lose their own shoes if they weren't tied on with laces.'

Hedge laughed nervously, and was about to ask something more, but Cole cut him off.

'We need to get going, the boss is waiting. He wants to meet with us, all of us, so guess who is coming along?'

Hedge realised who Cole was referring to. Somehow he sensed the day's activities for him were not over yet. They gathered up their belongings, paid the waiter for the drinks, and left the coffee shop.

The three of them took a black cab taxi to Westminster and walked the last four hundred metres to Downing Street. They approached the huge, wrought iron gates at the entrance to the most famous road in London, and presented themselves to the police guards. An armed officer checked the identity cards of Cole and Fuller, and then made several calls to his superiors regarding Hedge. He, of course, had no identity card in his possession, as when he had set off for work that morning he was not expecting to be paying a visit to Downing Street.

They stood patiently and eventually were allowed to pass through, and they then walked the last two hundred metres to number ten. At the front door identity cards were checked again by armed police officers, and more phone calls were made. All three of them had to be patted down and electronically scanned. Cole and Fuller handed over their silenced pistols and these were taken away by the police. Finally they were shown in through the solid black door of number ten Downing Street. They were led through a large hallway by a police guard to a room at the back of the building. This part of the house looked unused and seemed very quiet. The police officer knocked once on the door, waited for the reply, and then ushered the three men inside.

Cole walked straight up to the desk in the middle of the room and held out his hand. 'Hello again Sir, I hope you are well. May I introduce you to Tom Millar, or Hedge, as he is more commonly known. Also this is my colleague Fuller.'

He turned around and motioned for the other two to step forward. 'Hedge, Fuller, I'd like you to meet the British Prime Minister.'

# Chapter Seventeen

Hedge was still feeling lightheaded. Perhaps it was from not having eaten anything since lunch time, or maybe it was all the strange events of the day. It was probably a mixture of both, he concluded. He walked across the carpeted room and cautiously took the hand of the Prime Minister.

'Pleased to meet you sir,' he said.

The Prime Minister shook his hand and gave him a warm smile. He then sat down and suddenly became more business-like. 'Everyone sit please. Cole, I need a full briefing of what has happened since we last met'.

Cole went through the story in some detail, explaining how, with the help of MI5, they had been tracking the woman known as Anna since she had entered the country. He then explained how Hedge had been lured into the hotel, and finally he told how he'd been forced to act and terminate the woman called Monica.

The Prime Minister listened carefully, he was well known for his powers of concentration, and to Hedge it seemed like he was soaking up every detail.

Eventually Cole stopped talking and the Prime Minister spoke directly. 'Regrettable having to kill the woman, but as you say quite necessary it appears.'

He turned to Hedge. 'Thank you for your part in this young man. I expect it has been somewhat of a traumatic time for you?'

Hedge nodded briefly, but didn't reply as he felt like it wasn't really a question, more of a statement of fact. The Prime Minister then asked if he could rely on Hedge to keep this incident totally confidential. He nodded again in response. The Prime Minister went on to say to Cole and Fuller that he wanted this matter concluded as soon as possible.

'Find this woman Anna, locate the leader of this criminal gang and recover the missing money. Use the resources of the security services, but be clear that this is an operation that I am personally in charge of. Cole, you have my full authority in this matter. Make sure that you keep me personally up to date on events, you have my private number. The three of you must work together, use all available resources.'

Cole interrupted. 'With respect sir, but you said the three of us? Hedge here is just a civilian, and so he isn't part of our team.'

'He is now, he can recognise this woman Anna up close,' said the Prime Minister. 'From what you have told me, he also understands something of international financial transactions. Use all available resources,' he repeated sternly. 'Come back and see me when it's all wrapped up, not before. Remember this has added importance as the US Ambassador, the distinguished Robert Mallam, is one of the victims of the gang. Robert is a very good friend of mine. He wants this resolved and I want him to get his money back. We don't want this to sour our relationship with the United States. Members of my own government team, including senior Ministers, have also lost money in this unpleasant business. Make sure MI5 give you a full list of the victims. Go and resolve this please. This meeting is over. Good luck.'

The Prime Minister showed them to the door and let them out of the room. The police guard returned with them to the main entrance of the house. Once they were back in Downing Street the police returned Cole and Fuller's weapons. They were then led out through the high, black gates at the end of the road.

As they headed towards a row of parked taxis, Cole turned to Hedge with an amused grin. 'Looks like you are now a member of our team. Like it or not, those are the PM's orders. I hope you know what you have got yourself into.'

Hedge was confused. 'But this has nothing to do with me. Why would the PM mix me up in this? I'm just a member of the public.'

'Not any more it seems.' Cole shrugged his shoulders. 'He's made a massive mistake linking you up with us. But you don't argue with that man.'

Hedge was shaking his head. 'Today has been a bloody nightmare. I'm still not sure what is going on.'

Cole and Fuller both laughed.

Hedge tried to ignore them. They both irritated him at the way they seemed to laugh at other people's misfortune. It seemed like they were enjoying his discomfort. What the hell was he supposed to do now? He felt like he was being carried along on a fairground ride over which he had no control. He needed to get away from all this and recover from his recent ordeal, but he wasn't sure if that was going to be possible.

The three of them jumped in to a taxi. Hedge was told that he needed to return home and pack a few things, including his passport. If anyone asked what he was doing, then he should tell them that he is working on a project related to offshore finance for the government Treasury department. He had to be ready to go in one hour as they didn't want him hanging around at his home address. He wondered why, but then remembered that during the course of his interrogation by the two women, he had told them where he lived. That thought made him nervous, and he asked the taxi driver to see if he could speed up a little. Isaac, his cousin, would have been home by now and he was keen to explain to him some of the events of the day. Cole and Fuller decided to come with him to make sure he did as he was asked.

The taxi eventually pulled up outside a small terraced house with a metal gate and a square of gravel outside the front where Isaac had parked his car. Hedge jumped out of the taxi and headed for the front door. It was unlocked, which wasn't unusual as Isaac would normally be home by this time.

Hedge walked into the hallway and shouted for Isaac. There was no response, although the kitchen door was open and the light was on.

Hedge called out again. 'Isaac, are you there? What are you up to?'

Again, there was no reply.

Hedge carried on down the hallway and pushed open the kitchen door. Isaac had arrived home as Hedge had expected.

Unfortunately for him, it looked like someone else had also paid the house a visit.

# Chapter Eighteen

Isaac sat on the kitchen floor leaning against a white, painted cupboard. His eyes were wide open and his hands were down by his side. There were small patches of blood on the front of his shirt, and his right hand was a mess of red blotches and purple bruises.

Hedge leapt over to where his cousin sat and he knelt down next to him. 'Bloody hell, what has happened to you?

Isaac moved his head a fraction and looked up at him. Cole and Fuller had also stepped into the kitchen and stood quietly watching the scene.

Isaac spoke softly and was clearly in a lot of pain. 'I'm not sure really. This guy jumped me as I answered a knock at the front door. He dragged me back into the kitchen and punched me hard in the stomach before pushing me to the floor. The impact of his fist was agony, and it felt like something had ripped inside me. Then he covered my head with a black cotton bag, or it might have been a pillowcase, or something similar. I couldn't see a thing after that. Someone else was in the room by now, turns out it was a woman. She grabbed hold of my hand and placed some kind of tool over the knuckle of my little finger. It felt cold, hard, and metallic. She hadn't said anything to me at that point. Then, without warning, the tool closed in on my finger and literally crushed my knuckle joint. It must have been the sort of thing that is used to crack nuts with. The pain was excruciating and I screamed like hell. It felt like the bone in my finger had smashed to bits inside the skin. The worst thing was the noise, almost like when you crack a raw egg. I was still howling when the guy punched me again. I couldn't believe the agony I was in - it seemed like too much to bear. I shouted out asking what they wanted from me, but they still didn't say anything. The implement was moved across to my next finger, and again it was closed hard so that it crunched the knuckle. The pain had now doubled, and my whole body was shaking with the torment. I was shocked and confused as I still wasn't sure why this was being done to me. When I eventually stopped screaming, the woman spoke at last.'

Isaac stopped talking for a minute. He was shaking and still looked very pale. Fuller had found a plastic cup in the sink and filled it with cold tap water. He stepped forward and passed it to Isaac.

'Drink this,' he commanded.

Isaac took the cup and swallowed a mouthful of water, before he carried on with the story. He told them how the woman had asked him if his cousin known as Hedge lived here, and where he was at that moment. She seemed very angry about something.

Isaac explained that he didn't know where his cousin was, and that he hadn't seen him since breakfast that morning. The woman had asked several more questions and she must have believed his answers as no more of his knuckles had been pulverised. Finally she had told him to pass on a message to Hedge.

'Tell him that we are not very happy about what happened to Monica. She was my friend. You can let him know that if he talks to anyone about me, or comes anywhere near me in future, then we will smash all of his fingers to pulp, and worse. You may wish to explain to him just how painful that is.'

'Did you get a look at her at all,' Cole asked.

'No, the hood was covering my head all the time she was here. She sounded dangerous to me though, a ruthless bitch. I think you need to take her warning seriously. Do you know who she is?'

'We possibly have a clue as to who she might be,' Cole replied.

They bandaged his hand as best they could, and Hedge grabbed himself a bag of clothes from his room. They then locked the house and left, bringing Isaac with them. He was still in considerable pain, as he sat quietly in the back of the taxi. The driver had been asked to get them to the nearest hospital with an accident and emergency department.

They arrived a few minutes later and Hedge escorted his cousin into the hospital waiting area, before calling his uncle Larry to explain what had happened. Larry was immediately concerned, but hung up as soon as he found out where they were. He said he would be there in thirty minutes.

Hedge felt guilty, but Cole had said that he had five minutes only. They needed to get going. So he told Isaac that his dad was on the way and that he would explain everything when he had more time. He gave Isaac a hug and told him to keep away from the house until he was advised it was safe to return. He should go and stay at his family home for a while, Hedge suggested. With that, he said a final goodbye, and left him sitting in the waiting room. He wanted to look back as he went through the door that led back to the street outside, but he didn't.

The taxi was still waiting, so he hopped in the back next to Fuller. Cole sat up front, and he leaned over and told the driver to head for Heathrow airport.

Fuller asked if Isaac seemed okay.

'I guess so, but he's pretty shook up. I just hope they can fix his hands. What sort of sick person is she?' Hedge replied.

'She wants to frighten you off.' Cole had turned his head round to answer. 'I don't know how she found out about Monica so soon, but she seems to be aware that her friend is no longer with us. She knows someone is onto her now.'

'Well she certainly has me scared. Perhaps you should just drop me off at a local hotel and then you guys can get on with what you need to do. It's not really anything to do with me, after all. I have no experience of this kind of thing, and frankly, it's bloody frightening,' Hedge said.

Cole laughed, but then became more serious. 'If only it were that easy. The PM has given us orders now, so it's too late to opt out. Believe me, if we could get you out of this we would, but it's not possible. Don't worry, we will try and look after you. You seem to be doing okay so far.'

Hedge appreciated the praise. He had the feeling that compliments from someone like Cole were not given easily.

'What's this?' he said. Fuller had passed him a small, paper wallet.

'Your flight tickets,' Fuller replied with a smirk.

Hedge examined the wallet. Inside was a flight confirmation on British Airways from Heathrow to Dubai.

'First class,' said Fuller.

Hedge looked across and shot him a nervous smile. 'Well if I do end up dead, at least my last cup of tea will have been a decent one.'

He tried to sound upbeat, but in reality he was extremely worried. He felt a strange mix of emotions - excited about the prospect of the flight to Dubai, but anxious about what they might be doing when they got there. He was also seriously concerned for his cousin who had got caught up in this so horribly, and there was something else. He couldn't quite put his finger on it. Yes, he was angry. He wanted some sort of revenge for what had happened to him in the last twelve hours. He was also tired, and desperate to sleep. He promised himself he would do so as soon as the plane took off. Hopefully he would wake up and all of this would be just some horrible nightmare.

# Chapter Nineteen

Hedge woke almost three hours later when the stewardess touched his arm and asked him if he wanted his meal. He nodded politely and took the tray he was offered. He was famished and it didn't take long to devour the food. There was a small green salad to start, which was fresh and tasty, but not filling. This was followed by a hot beef pie, with mashed potato and peas. The finale was a small slice of cheesecake, a little too sweet for his liking, but still welcome. He washed this down with a cup of hot tea and a bottle of still water.

Cole, who was sitting in the seat next to him, had also finished his meal. He leaned over towards Hedge. 'So tell me about yourself then. I have already read some of your background as MI5 provided me a file they had prepared on you. I'm sorry to hear about what happened to your parents. That must have been tough?'

Hedge told him about the accident, and about going to live with his uncle, and he talked about life at boarding school, and at university.

'What was boarding school like,' said Cole. 'You hear some funny stories about bullying and abuse.'

'Certainly lots of bullying,' replied Hedge. 'Mostly trivial stuff, but it did tend to get out of hand occasionally. On the whole though, it was a fairly enjoyable period in my life.'

Cole leaned back in his chair. 'Well, I got plenty of time, so tell me more about it. Don't forget to mention the girls too, as I'm sure there must have been loads of them?'

Hedge sat back in his seat also. He closed his eyes lightly, as if trying to remember the details. Then he started talking about a time that seemed so long ago now. Cole listened quietly as the aircraft sped on through the sky.

Hedge had spent seven years of his life at boarding school. It wasn't one of the top, ultra-expensive schools that had become fashionably popular with children of overseas royalty and businessmen. It was a small school with a long tradition of excellent education, top level sport and strong discipline. It was set in several acres of pleasant countryside just outside Reigate in Surrey. Overall, he had fond memories of Upperdale College.

He found that the studying didn't come easily to him. It was mainly as a result of some very patient teaching staff, and his resolve to please his uncle, that he managed to just about pass all his examinations.

Although not a top sportsman, he had enjoyed playing rugby during his time at the school, and had even played full back on a couple of occasions for the college 2nd team.

There had been some girls, of course, but none that he especially remembered. Well there was one, but he didn't elaborate on that.

It was the discipline that gave him the least pleasant memories. It wasn't that the members of staff at the college were a problem, as actually they were quite fair on the whole. It was the senior boys at the school who tended to apply the harshest punishment. There was the usual bullying of course, and quite often the junior boys would be sent on errands for the seniors, but that was to be expected. He recalled occasionally being ordered to go into the local village to buy sweets for a group of sixth formers. It was a walk of over three miles each way, but they would often go with a mate, so it wasn't especially unpleasant. Worse was being given washing to do by senior boys. Hedge remembered that he once received a dozen pairs of Peter O'Shea's dirty underpants to wash by hand. He had to use his own soap powder of course, but the worst part about it was scrubbing by hand at the brown stains in order to return the items to their owner in a satisfactory condition.

There were a few occasions that Hedge remembered when the bullying ended up being particularly nasty. In his first year at the school, there was one incident when some of the senior boys found out that Hedge had lost his parents in a car crash. Initially he wasn't too concerned about them finding out this information, as he suspected that he would be given a certain level of sympathy as a result. But he was wrong. After all, this was boarding school, and normal rules of behaviour didn't always apply. He was returning from the school library early one evening, when a group of seniors grabbed hold of him and bundled him into the boys changing rooms. All of his captors were wearing handkerchiefs tied around their faces, presumably so they couldn't be recognised. It made them all look very sinister though, and Hedge was frightened. He was held down and then tied to a wooden chair. A cotton pillowcase was pulled over his head. After this he couldn't see what was happening, but he heard one of the showers being turned on. The chair was lifted into the shower area so that he was directly under the cold water.

'We don't like bastards at our school, you little shit,' screamed one of the boys. 'And if you don't have any parents, then you are a bastard.'

Hedge didn't think this was technically correct. He thought the proper terminology for his situation was being an orphan, not a bastard. The latter being actually someone born out of wedlock. However, he thought it best not to mention this at that time.

The senior boys continued to scream abuse at him as he sat shivering under the cold shower, with the pillowcase covering his head.

'I bet your parents planned the accident to kill themselves as they couldn't put up with you anymore,' one exceptionally nasty boy shouted at him.

Hedge just sat and took it all in. He didn't talk back, or react in any way. What his tormentors wouldn't realise was that he had suffered enormous pain and sadness in the months after his parents had died. He had gone through the agony of their funeral. He'd read newspaper cuttings about the accident, and even spoken to eyewitnesses and doctors. He had endured enormous suffering, and come through it. Anything these boys could do to him was pathetic in comparison to what he had endured. So he just remained quiet and took the abuse.

As he sat under the freezing shower, he remembered how a doctor had told him that his father had died immediately in the crash, but his mother had certain 'complications' that needed attention. She had been flown back to the United States to receive specialist treatment, but unfortunately she had died from her injuries four days later. Hedge was saddened by the memories. He came back to the present as he realised the shouting from the senior boys had died down. They had obviously become bored with what they were doing.

Some of the boys had left and had gone off to find some other form of amusement. Only four of the seniors were still with him. They lifted the chair out of the shower and laid it on the floor so that he was looking up at the ceiling, still tied to the back of the chair. They pulled the wet pillowcase off his head. He could now see the group of bullies gathered around him, although he was not sure of their identities as they still wore the handkerchiefs around their faces.

'You must be thirsty, so open your mouth,' said one of the boys.

Hedge hesitated as he didn't like the sound of that.

'Open your mouth, you little shit,' said another of the boys, and he kicked him hard in the side of the face as encouragement.

The impact to his cheekbone was very painful, and so he slowly opened his mouth and stared up at the ceiling.

The boy standing nearest to him had unzipped his trousers and had started pissing down onto Hedge. The flow of urine hit the floor near to his ear, but the boy quickly adjusted his aim and the yellow liquid splashed into Hedges open mouth.

The urine tasted disgusting, and he immediately spat it out, coughing as he did so.

'Keep your mouth open and swallow it down,' he was ordered. He received another kick in the side of his face as encouragement.

Hedge was scared. The piss in his mouth made him choke and he felt like he was drowning. He swallowed some of it, but it was so salty it made him gag. He spat some more of it out, but moving his head just meant the urine splashed across his face and stung his eyes. The boys were laughing loudly now, they were clearly enjoying themselves. Finally the flow ceased and Hedge spat out the last of the vile liquid and closed his mouth.

The senior boys ran out of the changing rooms, leaving Hedge tied to the chair on the floor. He struggled for a while but eventually managed to free himself. Then he rinsed his mouth from the cold tap above one of the nearby sinks, and washed the urine off his face and body as best he could. He wiped himself down with some paper towels from the dispenser, and then made his way quickly back to his dormitory to get himself cleaned up properly.

Hedge looked across to see if Cole was still listening to his story. His new friend noticed the movement and turned his head slightly.

'Yes, I'm still paying attention. It sounds a bit like my time in the army. Keep talking, I'm still waiting for the nasty part,' said Cole as he chuckled to himself.

Hedge grabbed hold of a passing stewardess and ordered himself a glass of still water. He waited until the drink arrived, took a few sips and then continued his oratory. He shivered as he thought about the next event he was going to relay. It was typical of boarding school at the time, but still quite unpleasant to talk about.

# Chapter Twenty

Hedge began to recap an incident that occurred just after he and his friends had returned to school following the Easter holiday. He would have been around twelve years old at the time. It was just after 'lights out' one evening, and Jeremy Jenkins, a rough and vulgar senior, had burst into the junior boy's dormitory. He woke the boys and exclaimed that he wished to demonstrate a highly effective punishment that his dad had taught him during the college holidays.

Hedge was randomly selected by Jenkins as the person who was going to try out the experiment. Jenkins pulled Hedge out of his sheets, told him stand at the bottom of his bed, then bent him over and pulled down his pyjama bottoms.

Hedge was quite worried by this development and also a little confused, as he had just woken up from a deep sleep. He stood feeling cold, and he started to tremble a little.

Jenkins pulled a strong steel coat hanger from behind his back. It was a simple design, made from a single strip of thick wire, bent in the shape of a triangle. At the top of the triangle was the hook for hanging on a cupboard rail. The other boys in the dormitory were watching with a little interest, and a lot of trepidation.

Jenkins explained that the coat hanger should be held with your hand on one of its ends. It is then flicked down hard so that the bottom wire of the coat hanger clips the backside of the intended victim. It was essential to get the right amount of contact to achieve maximum pain.

'Here we go then. Bend forward a bit more. And push your arse out a little further. We want to get this right don't we,' said Jenkins excitedly.

Hedge wasn't sure he did want to get it right. It sounded painful. Nevertheless he did as he was commanded. He felt a little vulnerable and embarrassed standing with his pyjama trousers down with his dormitory mates watching him.

Jenkins raised the coat hanger and bought it down hard and fast. It hit Hedge's backside, but it was too high up the buttocks, so there wasn't a lot of pain as the force of the downward stroke was neutralised by hitting too much flesh.

Jenkins grunted, and raised the coat hanger again. This time when he brought it down it hardly touched any skin at all, so again it caused very little discomfort.

Hedge was getting more nervous as time went on. It was the anticipation of serious pain that he was feeling anxious about.

The third time that Jenkins bought the hanger down, the impact was perfect. It clipped Hedges backside neatly, with just enough contact. Hedge felt the metal wire slice down his backside and he howled with the soreness of it.

Jenkins was ecstatic and squealed with delight.

'Excellent,' he shouted. 'Let me see if I can do that again.'

He repeated the exercise three more times, and on two occasions the hanger caught Hedge's backside perfectly, with the result that even more pain was inflicted upon him.

Hedge was seriously hurting by now, and he had howled each time the metal had made contact. This noise had brought three more senior boys into the room and they were quizzing Jenkins on what he was up to.

Rick Bradshaw, one of the newly arrived seniors thought this was great, and he dragged another junior boy out of his bed. This latest victim had the nickname Porky, as he was always eating, and consequently had rather a large protruding stomach.

'Porky, get your fat arse over here and stand facing your bed,' said Bradshaw.

He grabbed the coat hanger off Jenkins, and told the quivering Porky to 'assume the position.'

Bradshaw mastered the technique immediately, and after several strokes with the coat hanger Porky's backside was looking quite sore. As Hedge had done, the junior boy had shrieked loudly each time the hanger had clipped his rear.

'Hey, I've got a brilliant idea. Watch this, it's going to be great,' exclaimed Bradshaw.

With that, he moved closer to Porky, and pushed him forward so that he was leaning further over his own bed. Then he put his hand between the junior boy's legs, grabbed his testicles, and pulled them hard towards his backside.

'Squeeze your legs in as tight as you can,' Bradshaw ordered.

Porky did as he was told. The result was that he was now bending over with his backside sticking out, and his testicles protruding just underneath.

'Lean down just a bit further, we want to make this work,' said Bradshaw. He had the air of someone conducting a scientific experiment.

'The idea is this,' he began to explain to his fellow seniors. 'I intend to bring down the coat hanger, clip the backside, then carry on and strike the overhanging testicles. The pain should be intense, but timing is going to be everything. I call this routine "the double whammy". Let's see if it works.'

The other seniors were watching excitedly. Even the juniors were staring at the scene, but with mixed feelings. Porky started trembling, and he was biting his lower lip nervously. It was highly embarrassing standing in the position he was in, but he was too scared to move or complain.

Bradshaw held the hanger up high and brought it down fast. His execution of his plan was immaculate first time, and both backside and testicles were struck with perfect precision. Porky cried out and fell down holding his groin. Tears were streaming down his cheeks as he curled up on the floor.

The other senior boys cheered and clapped.

'Amazing,' shouted Jenkins. He went to grab the hanger back off Bradshaw, keen to try the new trick out for himself.

He stopped in his tracks though, as he heard the housemaster's voice in the corridor just outside the junior's dormitory.

'What's all this commotion about,' the housemaster was bellowing.

The senior boys all turned and ran out through the door at one end of the dormitory, just as the housemaster came in the door at the other end.

The housemaster looked round and surveyed the scene. He could see two junior boys out of bed. Hedge sat on the edge of his mattress, with a pained expression on his face. Porky was still lying on the floor, his hands clutching his groin.

'You two boys get back into your beds immediately,' he shouted. 'Stop all this noise all of you. If I have to come back here again tonight, there will be some serious punishments handed out. Now get to sleep and keep these lights turned off.'

He banged the door shut and walked off back down the corridor.

The dormitory went quiet, apart from the constant sniffling coming from Porky. He had not enjoyed being the victim of the 'double'. Hedge and the other boys tried to ignore the noise and get some sleep. It wasn't easy.

There were other times when the bullying at Upperdale was just as bad, but Hedge thought he had talked enough for now.

'Seems you had some nice people at your school then?' Cole had been listening attentively to the story.

They were interrupted as the pilot's voice came over the aircraft speaker system to explain that they were now beginning their descent into Dubai airport.

Hedge fastened his seat belt and sat back in his chair. He became aware of a change in the engine noise as the plane started to descend. There was also a pain in his ears developing caused by the gradual loss of height. He held his nose, and with his mouth closed he pushed from the back of his throat to try and clear his ears. It worked to a degree, and the discomfort subsided a little. Feeling somewhat thirsty, he made a mental note to get another drink as soon as they had landed. He had deliberately not drunk too much on the flight as he had a concern around his waterworks, ever since the trauma he had suffered at the Royal Hotel earlier in the day. Or was it yesterday, he wasn't sure.

The aircraft touched down on the runway of Dubai airport.

Hedge wondered to himself what was going to happen to him next. It couldn't be any worse than his last twenty four hours.

Could it?

# Chapter Twenty One

Once they had cleared through passport control and customs, the three of them climbed into a black saloon car that had pulled up at the airport entrance. It was five o'clock in the morning and Dubai looked quiet. The sun was just nudging up over the horizon and it cast long shadows across the terminal area. It was going to be a hot day, and the air was still. Hedge took off his sweatshirt and stuffed it in his bag. The saloon car was driven by a short, well-tanned guy with a black moustache. The pick-up was clearly arranged in advance as no instructions or directions were passed to the driver.

The car pulled away and accelerated out of the airport and onto the large six lane highway that links Dubai airport with the rest of the metropolis. It was a strange sight looking out of the vehicle as they sped along. Hedge could see hundreds of tall buildings, nearly all of them new. Some were only half built and others were as yet just blocks of concrete jutting out of the earth. In the distance he recognised the Burj Khalifa - the tallest building in the world. It looked enormous and was in fact a vertical city, housing thousands of apartments, and hundreds of shops and restaurants. Hedge had read somewhere that the building was over eight hundred and twenty metres high, and that some twenty thousand people had worked on its construction at any one time. Mainly Indians, of course, or Philippino's possibly, he thought to himself.

Hedge knew a little about Dubai already, as one of his friends at university had originally come from this part of the world, and had talked quite a bit about the region.

His friend had told him that Dubai is one of the seven states that make up the country known as the United Arab Emirates, often just called the Emirates, or UAE for short. Dubai is the most highly populated city in the country, with around two million inhabitants. It is also the most expensive city in which to live in the entire Middle East region.

Hedge was impressed with what he was witnessing as the car raced through the light early morning traffic. He had read somewhere that the initial growth of Dubai had been mainly funded from oil discovered during the 1960's, but in more recent times oil revenue has only accounted for a small proportion of its income. Most of the country's current wealth comes from tourism, financial services, and of course real estate. Dubai has become synonymous with extravagant building projects such as large, expensive hotels, man-made island clusters and skyscraper buildings.

The country lies on the Persian Gulf coast, and shares borders with some of its fellow Emirates, including Abu Dhabi to the south west. In addition, it has a border with the Sultanate of Oman to the south east.

Hedge also knew a little about Dubai as a financial centre, as this area of the economy had been growing in recent years. The country is important for banking in the region, and has the most important stock exchange in the Middle East. It also controls a lot of precious metal trade and so it has become known as 'The city of gold.'

Hedge continued to gaze out of the window as the car sped along. Eventually they pulled up alongside a three storey block just off the main highway. The building had no signage to indicate what it was. They entered by a side door and walked up to the second floor. Cole led the way and clearly he had been here before. He knocked at a metal door, and shouted to be let in. A harsh voice on the other side asked who it was but threw open the door when he heard Cole's voice a second time.

'Hey Cole it's great to see you again, how you been keeping man.'

'Good thanks Angel,' Cole replied. 'How the hell are you? You seem to have put on weight since we last met, you still eating those Danish pastries that lady of yours is so good at making.'

Angel laid his hands defensively across his belly, looked at Cole with a gesture of innocence, and finally laughed loudly. He was clearly delighted to see his old friend.

They chatted for a few minutes more, and then Cole introduced Fuller and Hedge. Angel shook hands with Fuller and then turned and gave Hedge a hard stare.

'You look like a little fish out of water,' he said, but then a wide smile settled across his face.

Hedge realised that his nervousness was visible for all to see. He felt like he didn't belong on this trip. He should be back at home in London, watching television with his cousin or having a workout at the local gym. Instead he was meeting some dubious character at a non-descript building in the middle of Dubai. He should be coming to this country to sunbathe and shop, not to find some woman who had been torturing him for information. Hedge was sweating, but then they all were as the air was humid.

Angel eventually held out his hand and said 'Hi, good to meet you, whoever you are.'

Hedge shook his hand and feeling a little bolder he said, 'that's an interesting name you got there, but it doesn't really suit you.'

Angel was a tall man with a shaven head and a nasty scar just above his left eye. He must have weighed over two hundred pounds but he looked fit, and tough.

'No doubt Cole here will have given you the full story before your arrival,' he said slightly sarcastically.

'Not yet no, but I am happy to relive that particular joyous moment if you like,' said Cole.

He then went on to explain that Angel's real name was Tim, but no one ever called him that anymore. Not since that cold winter's day in Norway many years ago when the two of them were on an Army Special Forces exercise. Part of the final day's training was to do a parachute jump from three thousand feet. The day of the jump was windy and the sky was overcast. After they had exited from the aircraft it had been virtually impossible to steer their parachutes in any particular direction, and visibility had been dreadful. Cole had eventually come down to earth safely but Angel had not. He was blown into a large group of fir trees and unfortunately for him, he had landed directly on top of one of them. Luckily though, the only damage he received was from a sharp branch that had stuck straight into his backside. It was a painful wound and the hard wood had penetrated around five inches into his left buttock. The rescue crew had said he looked just like 'an Angel stuck on a Christmas tree.' They had cut him down eventually but only after they had taken several photographs and had all fallen about laughing. The wound in his backside took around three months to heal, but the name didn't go away.

They all smiled at the story. Angel had heard it many times, but he thought it was a pretty good name, so he didn't mind.

The mood changed noticeably when Angel led them through to a back room and pulled the lid of a large, wooden crate in the corner.

'I can give some gear, but it mustn't be traced back to me. You need to look after them, and dump them all when you have finished.'

He handed Cole a black handgun.

'It's a Glock 17, fourth generation, or Gen4 they call it. Nine bullets, 19mm Parabellums, it's a lovely piece.'

'That's really nice,' said Cole as he examined the weapon.

Angel passed Cole two spare magazines and then handed Fuller the same gun and spare magazines.

Cole looked at Angel with a tentative smile. 'Sorry Angel, but we have to get going, thanks for your help, catch up for a beer before we head back to the UK.'

Cole disappeared out of the door, followed closely by Fuller. Hedge was about to follow them, but Angel called him back.

'Hey don't forget your piece.'

With that he handed Hedge the same handgun and magazines as the other two. He smiled as he patted him on the back.

'Enjoy' he said.

# Chapter Twenty Two

Hedge wasn't sure that he should be carrying a gun, but in a strange way he quite liked the idea. Cole and Fuller had disappeared down the stairs and so he decided not to mention that he had been given his own Glock. They probably hadn't realised. He stuffed the pistol and spare magazines into his backpack and chased after the other two.

'He was carrying a gun,' he kept thinking to himself. It felt odd but quite good. It somehow made him more confident than he would normally be. He noticed he walked with a bit more of a swagger and a smile crept onto his face. Yes, it felt good. He had no idea how to use it, of course, and he needed to find a way of resolving that problem.

They drove a few miles further down towards the coast and pulled the car up outside a tall glass building with the name 'Palm Sands Hotel' across the front. They all checked in without any fuss, and it was decided they would catch up on sleep and then meet in the evening to discuss their plans. Their vehicle needed to be taken to the official hotel car park around the back of the building, so Hedge offered to move it. Cole gave him the car keys, and then he and Fuller headed upstairs to their rooms.

Hedge got back into the car and drove it round to the parking area. He sat quietly for a moment wondering what was going to happen to him next. He wasn't tired as he had slept on the plane and he was too anxious to think about sleep. As well as feeling concerned about his situation, there was something else too, he was excited. He always felt as if his life was just a bit too dull, and that maybe something else was waiting for him. However, he was fairly certain that being tied to a bed and tortured was not what he was looking for, although in a weird way it had given him a bit of a buzz. He shuddered though as he remembered how terrified he had been during his ordeal with Monica. Did she have family somewhere who were now wondering where she was? Perhaps Blake would come after him some time in the future to find out what had happened to her. He dismissed the thought and came back to the present.

He glanced across at his bag which was lying on the passenger seat, and he suddenly remembered the Glock. He wanted to try it out and so a simple plan began to form in his head. He started the car up again and headed out of the hotel parking area. Next he turned into a narrow side road and then re-joined the main highway. He needed somewhere quiet and remote. He drove for several miles along the Sheikh Zayed Road, until he saw a sign for the main route to Oman. Here he turned off and drove out of the built up city area.

The scenery started to change, firstly from modern buildings, then to more run down houses, and finally to scrub and desert. He carried on driving and after another ten miles or so he could see nothing but desert and rocky outcrops in every direction. He pulled off the road and got out of the car. It was hot, the sun was beating down, and the air was heavy and humid. He wished he had remembered to bring a drink along as his throat started to feel dry.

'This will do,' he said to himself.

He walked off across the dry surface counting out a hundred paces and then put his bag down. All around him the scenery was the same rolling sand with occasional grey or black rocks jutting out. Directly in front of him, and breaking the monotony, was a small pool of water, maybe around twenty metres across. The water looked clear but he could see the tracks where animals had occasionally stopped to drink.

'Camels probably,' he said to himself, but he had no idea if that was true or not. It could have been any animal for all he knew.

Hedge pulled out the Glock and inspected it. It felt small but quite heavy. The surface of the gun seemed to be made from a hard kind of plastic. There was a small button on the side and he pointed the gun away from him, just in case, and pressed this button. There was a quiet click and the bottom of the magazine appeared below the handle of the gun. He pulled the magazine out and noticed that it had what appeared to be real bullets in it. The top one was a copper colour and it was shiny and clean. Hedge felt like a naughty schoolboy and looked around him in all directions just to check that he was alone still. There was nothing in sight apart from sand and rocks. He pushed the magazine back into the handle of the gun, laid the weapon down on the sand, and then paced out twenty metres in front of him. He found a large black rock and dug into the sand leaving most of the face of the rock stuck up above the surface. He walked back to where he had placed the gun, and checked that he could still see his target. Picking up the Glock, he carefully aimed along the barrel in the direction of the rock. He remembered that most weapons had a safety catch on them, but he spent a full minute looking at the gun again but couldn't see one.

'What the hell!' he said to himself, and lined the gun up with the rock again. He put his finger around the trigger and pulled gently. Nothing happened. He pulled harder, but still nothing.

'Shit!' he thought, what was wrong with it. Perhaps it was broken or maybe he had been given a replica gun on purpose, just so the others could have a laugh.

He lifted the pistol again and aimed high into the horizon. He squeezed the trigger hard but it had the same result as before. There was no sound, no recoil, no nothing. He was annoyed that he had wasted his time coming all the way out here. He started to put the gun back into his bag just a thought came to him. On the television they always say the phrase 'chamber a round'. Perhaps it wasn't loaded properly. He picked up the weapon again and pulled back the slider on top of the barrel. It flowed back smoothly and he felt the handle vibrate slightly. There was a definite click as he let go of the slider mechanism, and he noticed that the trigger had moved forward to a new position.

'That's it,' he said aloud to himself.

He aimed again at the rock and steadied his hand. He put his finger on the trigger. It was then that he noticed a movement out of the corner of his eye. He turned a fraction to his right and to his horror he saw an old grey donkey walking slowly towards him. On top of the animal sat an elderly man, dressed in a dirty white robe, with a faded black hat on his head, protecting him from the sun. He wore dark glasses on his face and a pair of brown sandals on his feet.

Presumably as protection from the wind and sand, his mouth and nose were covered with a large, off-white handkerchief.

'Shit,' Hedge shouted.

This came out too loud and the old man looked up and spoke. 'Who is it? What are you doing? Tell me why you are here?'

The old man was speaking English but it came out heavily accented. His voice was also slightly muffled by the handkerchief, and Hedge could only just understand what he was saying.

'Who is it, what are you doing?' repeated the old man.

Hedge was still holding the gun out at full stretch and he brought his arm round so that it was pointing directly at the newcomer. He felt panicky, and his anxiety had suddenly started to rise. Hedge had no idea who this man was, but he didn't want to be caught in possession of a firearm in a country where he didn't belong. They had strict laws about weapons in this part of the world and he guessed that the penalty for having a loaded gun could be quite serious.

However, it wasn't these thoughts that were making him so anxious. It was the handkerchief around the man's face. As he stared at the old guy, he started to shake, and an uncontrollable fear began to take hold of him.

It wasn't a rational fear, he knew that, and he also knew where the problem had originated. It had taken several hours of expensive therapy many years ago to work it all out. The handkerchief phobia had developed as it was linked to several traumatic experiences he had endured during his time at boarding school. He still wasn't always able to control his reaction to the fear, but at least it helped to understand where it came from. Some of the things he had issues with were quite minor, but when it came to handkerchiefs, the reaction was usually quite severe. As well as a therapist, he had also been to see various doctors about his issues, and they had helped to explain about the effects of the anxiety attacks, but they hadn't cured him. So it was as with most anxiety therefore, that the intensity of the feelings that were generated was out of all proportion to the danger of the actual situation.

Hedge's mind was racing and he was gripped with terror. He struggled to focus his eyes and his hands were trembling badly. He had a look of fright on his face and his mouth was wide open as if in a state of shock. Part of his mind was telling him that he would have to shoot the man, but another part of his brain was saying that would be a drastic and totally unnecessary thing to do. He was gripped in the anxiety attack, and he didn't know what to do. Panic had overtaken him. He wasn't sure that the gun would fire, even if he pressed the trigger. Was the man armed, and would he shoot back if he missed?

The old man was only about thirty feet away now and so Hedge had to make a decision. Should he shoot or should he just run? One part of his brain was telling him that this was not a rational thing to consider, but another side to his thinking made this feel like a genuine threat. He was confused. He couldn't think straight.

The donkey kept moving towards him and it was only twenty feet away when total panic overcame him and he subconsciously made his decision. He put pressure on the trigger with his finger and he heard a loud click. The gun was aimed squarely at the man's chest.

Hedge was sweating and he could feel the moisture running from his forehead and stinging his eyes. His head was spinning and his hand was still shaking. He pressed a little harder on the trigger and held his breath. There was a loud noise like a clap of thunder that seemed to echo around inside his eardrums, followed by a flash of lightning, and then his vision went completely black.

He must have lost consciousness for just a split second, but he had managed to remain standing. Coming back to reality, he tried to refocus his eyes, but to his horror the next thing he saw was the old man falling off the side of the donkey.

'Oh shit!' he said the words out loud.

What had he done?

# Chapter Twenty Three

Hedge was shaking violently. His hand dropped and the gun fell onto the sand next to his feet.

Had he really just shot the man on the donkey?

Everything had happened so quickly, he couldn't even remember whether he had heard the Glock firing. He was struggling for breath and he looked again to see where the man had fallen. It felt like his eyes were playing tricks as he didn't quite believe what he saw. The old man was standing next to the donkey and was staring over towards him.

Hedge tried to focus his eyes. It wasn't easy as he was still quite nervous, and the sun's rays were reflecting brightly off the surface of the sand. He looked closely at the guy. There was no blood, no bullet wound, in fact no damage at all. He looked perfectly well.

This wasn't entirely true, Hedge realised, as the man slowly took off his dark glasses. Hedge stared at him, and he felt his mouth drop open. The old man's eyes were completely white, with a kind of glaze across them both. He leaned over the donkey and pulled a stick from the pack it was carrying. Moving forwards, he poked the ground deliberately with the stick, before tentatively placing each foot onto the soft sand. As he came close, Hedge watched with some relief as the man pulled the handkerchief away from his face and pushed it into his trouser pocket

'Hello, my friend, what are you doing at this water hole? We don't find many people here normally. My name is Ahmed, who might you be?'

He continued to poke the stick at the ground ahead of him as he took his last few steps. Hedge realised that Ahmed couldn't see, he was completely blind. He also realised that he hadn't actually fired the gun at him. So the old guy had no idea that Hedge even had the pistol.

'Hello, my name is Hedge. I have driven out here to get a view of the desert. I'm travelling around the area.'

Hedge moved his right foot and gently kicked the gun behind him as he spoke.

Ahmed explained that he came to this spot every few days to exercise and water his donkey. It was a trip of some three miles or so from where he lived. He didn't get to talk with many people these days.

Ahmed seemed delighted to have stumbled across someone to chat to. He looked very frail and Hedge thought he must have been well over eighty years old. He spoke good English, although some of the pronunciation was a little strange. Hedge wondered if that might be because Ahmed only had half of his original teeth left, and those remaining were black, or at best a dark shade of yellow.

Ahmed jabbered on for a few minutes, he clearly liked to talk. Hedge said nothing, just nodded and smiled as Ahmed spoke – not that his unseeing eyes would have noticed. He talked about the weather, his family, the animals he kept, and a few more subjects besides. Quite suddenly as if realising he may be boring his new friend, the Arab cut off his oratory. He turned and walked slowly back to his donkey and guided the animal towards the water to drink.

As he stood there, he turned his head slightly towards Hedge and he shouted over to him. 'You must stop at my house on the way back to the city. It's on the main road, so it's easy to find. Look out for the small field with an old wooden fence. You will see this one here and several other donkeys. I will expect you in about one hour. Please don't let down a lonely, old peasant. My daughter visits every day at noon to check on me, so she will be there to serve us some fresh mint tea.'

Hedge found it difficult to refuse him and so he said he would call by. Ahmed struggled back onto the donkey and was gone almost as quickly as he had arrived.

'That was a close one,' Hedge said to himself.

He was horrified that he had nearly shot the man, but for some reason the Glock hadn't fired. He leaned down and picked up the gun, then waited a few more minutes to give Ahmed time to be well out of hearing range. He brushed off the sand, took out the magazine and replaced it as he had before. He pulled back the slider mechanism again and once more aimed the gun at the rock before pulling hard on the trigger.

This time the Glock fired. There was no mistaking it, as the noise was deafening and the recoil forced his wrist backwards with surprising force. A cloud of sand jumped into the air just a few inches behind the protruding rock.

Hedge yelled with delight. He had started to believe that the gun was faulty. He aimed once more at the protruding rock, this time more carefully, aligning the middle of the target with the sight on the barrel of the Glock. He gently pulled the trigger and the gun fired again. This time, to his amazement, the bullet hit the rock and several small fragments flew into the air. Hedge allowed himself a big smile and he felt a new surge of confidence.

'This is fun,' he thought to himself.

He fired several more shots at the rock, some of them from slightly further away. He managed to hit the target three more times, which he thought was a reasonable result. With his last shot, he aimed at the middle of the drinking pool and watched as a small splash of water showed exactly where the bullet had landed.

He was tempted to continue his target practice, but thought it would be best to finish up and move on. He wiped the gun down with the sleeve of his shirt, then packed up his stuff and headed back to the car.

A short while later Hedge was knocking on the door of Ahmed's house. Not really a house, Hedge thought to himself as he pulled off the road, more of a shack. The grey donkey was now in a small field to one side of the dwelling, along with a group of other bedraggled looking specimens. The animals seemed content though, standing in the sun chewing on dry hay and drinking from a rusty old trough.

There was an old, dark blue car parked next to the house. Obviously not Ahmed's, so Hedge guessed it must belong to his daughter.

The door finally opened and a woman dressed in a black robe asked him to come in. 'We have been expecting you. My name is Asha. You are most welcome.'

Hedge was shown into a badly lit room at the back of the house where Ahmed was sitting. He was drinking from a small, white cup. He was delighted that Hedge had decided to stop by, and he chatted continuously while they both drank tea. Asha hovered in the background, occasionally filling up the cups with a brew that reminded him of mint sauce diluted in hot sugary water.

Ahmed had just finished a story about the old days - when Dubai was just a small town on the edge of the desert, and he had then changed the subject and asked Hedge what kind of work he did. Hedge was explaining what his previous job had involved. As he was half way through his story, he suddenly noticed that Ahmed's eyes had shut. He stopped talking, and in the silence he could hear a gentle snoring sound. Ahmed was fast asleep.

Asha entered the room at that point and laughed. 'He must find your conversation very interesting.' She said this with a hint of sarcasm.

She laughed again, but then went on to explain that her father gets tired very easily and often falls asleep without warning. Hedge moved into the kitchen and watched Asha wash the cups. She must have been around his age, and she spoke excellent English. As he stood watching her, he could see the outline of her slim body against the fabric of her robe. She was talking about her father, and Hedge liked listening to her as she had a soft, gentle voice.

'So how have you managed to bore my father to sleep then? I thought you Americans were always so interesting!' She said this with a mischievous smile.

'Well apparently not as interesting as you might think. I didn't realise I was so dull,' he said.

'Ha-ha, but I'm sure you are not dull. Just a small joke I couldn't resist. He gets exhausted quite easily these days.'

She turned and took a small towel which was hanging on the back of a chair, and started to wipe dry the cups. Hedge studied her as she wiped. Her face was smooth with well-defined features. She had a slightly hooked nose, typical of many Arabic girls in the region. Her eyes were dark, and he thought he saw some sadness in them.

'Do you live nearby,' he asked.

'Not far, near the edge of the city. We have a small apartment, my husband and I. It is ideal for us, and not expensive. There are a lot of foreign people buying property in Dubai these days, and prices are too high for many local workers. We are lucky though as we bought our home several years ago.'

She made some more mint tea and they continued to talk as they drank. They seemed very comfortable chatting together, and they both relaxed as they enjoyed each other's company. He told her about his life as a small boy in the United States, and then how the family had moved to England. She talked about her husband and their lives in the Emirates. Hedge was interested to learn more about her family.

'Do you have children?' He immediately regretted the question. It sounded like he was prying into personal matters. A question that might often be asked back home in London, but here it may well be considered slightly rude.

'No, we don't, no children.' She replied, but she answered too quickly.

Hedge realised he had made a mistake.

The woman turned away from him and she fell silent.

# Chapter Twenty Four

Asha stood with her back to him and faced the window. The view outside was of dry sand and scrub. It stretched as far as the eye could see into the distance.

'Sorry, I didn't mean to ....' he started to say.

'It's a barren view, don't you agree,' she said softly. 'Barren and very much like me. I am not able to bear children. My husband says it is god's wish, but I do not believe that. It is because I went through a certain ritual just before my fifth birthday. All the girls in my village did. We didn't have a proper doctor and so it was the tribal elder who performed "the cutting of the girls."'

Hedge felt uncomfortable listening to Asha talking about something so personal to her. He guessed she was referring to the practice of female circumcision, or Female Genital Mutilation as it was commonly called. He knew it was prevalent in many African and Middle Eastern countries. A fellow student at university, who had been studying Sociology, had explained the concept to him in some detail. His friend had been following a case study of a group of girls in Somalia who had all undergone the same ritual at a very early age. The investigation had revealed that various degrees of mutilation had occurred, from simple removal of the clitoris, to complete removal of all external parts of the female genitalia. In one case, following the surgery, the girl's vaginal entrance had been sewn up to prevent her ever having intercourse.

To call it surgery was not strictly correct, his friend had explained. In fact, most of the mutilations are done with unsterilised knives, and without any proper anaesthetic.

Hedge winced as he thought about it, but he listened sympathetically as Asha continued.

'It was very painful, and I recall seeing a lot of blood. I had to be held down by two older men. It hurt for many weeks after, but do you know the worst thing about it all?'

Hedge looked at her, and shook his head gently.

'The most horrible thing is that I screamed for my mother. Help me Mama, I called. I was still wailing as I looked round the room, and then I saw her. I saw my mother. She was standing there in the corner. She walked over to where I was being held down, leaned over me, took my hand, and told me to be brave. I still can't believe it. She was there, right next to me, while they brutalised me. My own mother - I was four years old!'

She turned to look back out of the window.

Hedge felt sickened by what he had just heard. He wanted to say something, but he wasn't sure what the right words would be. So he said nothing as he moved over and stood next to her. He put his hand on her shoulder, and squeezed gently. They stood together, silent, staring out at the bleak landscape.

After a while she looked at him. 'I don't know why I told you that story, but I think you understand the pain. You have had some hurt also in your life, I think.'

He looked at her and smiled. She seemed calmer now somehow.

'A little, maybe,' he said.

As he stood there next to her, he remembered earlier that day when he had first met her father. He had been close to shooting him. He felt quite ashamed that he could have been responsible for inflicting more grief on this woman.

What a crazy day it had been, he thought to himself again.

He felt tired. It was time to get back to the hotel.

Ahmed had woken again, so he said goodbye to him, and to Asha. He said he hoped that they might meet again someday, but it seemed unlikely he thought.

He climbed into the car and headed back to the city.

It was now late afternoon and he parked up at the back of the hotel. Sitting in the vehicle for a few moments, he reflected on his impromptu trip into the desert. Firing the Glock had been exciting. The chance meeting with Ahmed could have turned out badly, but didn't. Talking to Asha had been quite an emotional experience.

He walked back into the hotel and took the elevator up to his room where he lay back on his bed. He wasn't sure what was going to happen next, but nothing would surprise him at the moment. His usual dull life seemed to have changed and he wondered when it would all get back to normal, if ever. He closed his eyes and looked up at the ceiling.

A few seconds later he was fast asleep.

# Chapter Twenty Five

Hedge's room phone was ringing and it woke him up.

It was Cole. 'Meet us down in the lobby in thirty minutes. We need to work out what we are going to do next'.

Hedge checked his watch. It was almost six o'clock in the evening Dubai time. He splashed some water on his face to freshen up. Then he pushed his bag under the bed - to reduce the likelihood of anyone snooping inside and finding the gun, and finally he headed down to the lobby.

The three of them took a table in the hotel restaurant and ordered some food. Hedge was hungry and decided on a house steak with all the trimmings. He also requested a pot of English tea.

Cole talked them through their objectives now that they had arrived in Dubai. He explained that they needed to try to track down the woman they knew as Anna. MI5 had advised him that they believed she had left the UK and was now somewhere in the Emirates. The Prime Minister had told them to trace any cash that had been transferred to bank accounts in Dubai and attempt to recover it. Most importantly though, they needed to keep a low profile as they didn't want the gang to know they were on to them. Cole explained that this was highly embarrassing for the British government and they needed to act quickly. It all sounded quite logical to Hedge.

'Just remember that twenty four hours ago I was a civilian doing normal everyday things. I am not used to this kind of stuff,' Hedge said. He looked at Cole hoping he was at least a little sympathetic.

'Yes, I know,' Cole said. 'But you can still be useful to us. We just need to ensure that you don't get yourself hurt in the meantime.'

Fuller laughed. 'And we want to go back home with all our testicles intact. That means six of them between us'. He looked across the table expectantly at Cole.

Cole said 'Six? Well that's my three and the rest from you guys. So which of you only has one ball?' He laughed out loud. Fuller joined in with the laughter. It was clearly an old joke between the two of them.

Hedge winced to himself at the reference to his near miss yesterday. He wondered how on earth he had managed to get himself mixed up with these two guys. He nervously moved his teacup to the left side of the table, and then placed the sugar bowl close to the cup. The teaspoon was annoying him as it was upside down. He turned it the right way up and faced it towards the sugar bowl. 'Tidy', he thought to himself, 'much better'.

They ate their food while Cole continued to tell them about the plan. He said he was familiar with the main bank which the group had been using to deposit their money. The idea was to watch it for a few days and see if they could spot any members of the gang.

They all headed back upstairs after the meal and went to their separate bedrooms. It was agreed to meet for breakfast the following morning at seven o'clock.

Straight after the morning meal they headed off to find the bank. It was the main Dubai branch of the United Emirates Bank and was located just a short drive from the city centre. Cole was driving and he parked in a small side street about a hundred yards down from their target. It was a high building, large and imposing. The stonework at the front looked like some kind of white marble, and it shone brightly as it reflected the morning sun. There were several rows of steps leading up to the front entrance to the bank. The main door was huge and was made of what appeared to be solid mahogany, stained dark brown.

It was around nine in the morning and the area was quiet. Cole remained in the car while Fuller and Hedge took a stroll along the street. They were looking to see if there were any other entrances to the building. If there were none, then they could focus on watching this one front entrance. They had drawn straws in the car to see which of them should take a look inside the building, and Hedge had lost. He suspected that the other two had cheated somehow, but he couldn't prove it. So he let Fuller walk on, while he headed for the front steps and the big wooden door.

Once inside, he had a quick scan around. It was very opulent, with large tapestries hanging from the walls and huge, glass chandeliers swinging down from the high ceiling.

Hedge didn't want to attract any undue attention, and so he wandered over to a row of high tables where other customers were filling out forms. He picked up a deposit slip and a pen and pretended to write on the paper. He paused occasionally and took the opportunity to casually look around the bank. There were definitely no other entrances or exits visible on this floor. As he stole one final look around, he noticed a small sign on the far side of the room which read 'Private Customers – Entrance.' He wanted to report back to Cole and Fuller that he had thoroughly checked for all possible means of entry, so he decided to go and have a closer look at the sign. He picked up his deposit form and ambled slowly over to the other side of the room.

As he got closer to the sign he realised it was pointing to a bank of elevators. There was a table immediately underneath the sign and he headed over to this and laid his deposit slip down. He didn't need it any more. There was a small pile of folders on the table, along with a gold coloured Parker pen next to them. These items were of no interest to him, but the discarded security badge that lay next to them was. He picked it up quickly and stuffed it in his pocket.

'Just in case,' he said to himself.

He approached the elevator door nearest the sign and waited, quickly trying to think what he should do next. The sign seemed to suggest that there was another customer entrance to the building. He needed to check it out. The red panel above the elevator was lit with the number five. As he watched, the number changed to four, then three, then two. Finally, the number one appeared and the elevator door opened.

He waited while a small man in a dark grey suit strode out into the main lobby of the bank. Hedge walked into the elevator, hoping he wouldn't be joined by anyone. He wasn't. He was sure no one had seen him go into the elevator. He looked at the panel next to the door. The floors were labelled from one to forty two, but there was no indication that any of them had any kind of building entrance. He glanced at the panel again and this time he noticed that the label for floor twenty eight had a dark line around it. Underneath this was written in small letters 'Private Customers – Entrance.' Did that mean that this was the way in and out for private customers, or did it mean that this was just an entrance and the exit was by another route?

Hedge wasn't sure, but he thought he would investigate anyway. He felt a little nervous, but if he got caught by any bank staff he would just say he was looking for the customer toilets. He selected the button next to the number twenty eight and the door closed.

The elevator travelled silently and quickly, or so it felt, and after about three or four seconds it came to a stop. Hedge waited for the usual 'ping' as it stopped, but there was no sound. Instead the doors just opened quietly and he stepped out into a small hallway. There was only one door leading from this hall and it was directly in front of him. The door had no handle, but he spotted a small silver pad to the right of it. He pulled the security card from his pocket and swiped it close to the pad. To his surprise, the door opened with a gentle hum and he stepped inside. He wasn't really sure what he was looking for but he flicked the light switch down and peered around to see what was in the room.

The first thing he noticed was that down both sides were rows of what looked like safety deposit boxes. He assumed this was what they were as they all had individual locks on the front. In fact each drawer had two locks. He guessed one was kept by the owner of the deposit box and the other would be kept by one of the banks security staff.

The room was hot and humid so he decided to have a quick look around and then get back out.

He walked further into the room, and as he did so the door he had just come through closed with a smooth, gentle hum. He turned to look at the door and quickly realised that there was no handle this side either. This time though there was also no swipe pad on the wall. He walked slowly back towards the sealed opening he had just come through, trying to work out how he was supposed to get back out. He felt around the outside of the door frame to see if there were any hidden switches, but he found nothing. Next he tried to push against the door, but it was solid and unmoving. It appeared that he was not getting out that way. He looked further into the room but could see no other doors. Perhaps there was one off to the side somewhere.

The room was about sixty feet long and twenty feet wide. He started to walk down the middle, between the rows of deposit boxes. It was soon clear to him that there were no other entrances or exits feeding into the room. Apart from the door he had come in, there was no other obvious way out.

He appeared to be trapped.

# Chapter Twenty Six

He could sense himself beginning to panic. Coming up in the lift had clearly been a big mistake. There were no other entrances up here, and he realised that this was simply a secure area for private customers to review their safety deposit boxes. He needed to get out as quickly as possible and report back to Cole and Fuller.

But how was he going to escape?

He went back to the door he first came in through, and tried once more to work out if there was any possible way for it to be opened. He waved the stolen security card around the edges of the door, but nothing happened. He tried pushing against it again, and finally he banged on the door with his hands, but it didn't budge.

It appeared that there was no way it was going to open.

What he didn't realise at the time was that the door worked on a simple timer. Customers who came into the room to review their deposit boxes would enter with their security card and then would have exactly thirty minutes before the door opened again to let them out. He had only been in the room around five minutes and so the door was locked shut.

He walked back down the centre of the room, once more checking either side for any other ways in or out. He saw none, until directly in front of him, at exactly the opposite side of room from the main door, he saw a small metal panel set high into the wall. He carried on walking towards it, hoping it might offer him some means of escape.

Hedge stopped in front of the panel. It was about two feet by two feet square. It was cut into the wall at around the height of his shoulders and opened with a catch at the top. He pulled the catch and the upper part of the panel opened downwards about ten inches. It was hinged at the bottom and so the top swung back towards him.

He stood back and took one more look around the room, and then approached the metal panel once more. He thought that if he pulled himself up by placing his hands on top of a nearby stack of deposit boxes, then he could drop himself feet first through the top of the panel. He tried three times unsuccessfully to do this, but on his fourth attempt he managed to swing his legs up and over the top of the panel. He dropped slowly through the opening, turning his body as he did, so that he was facing back towards the inside of the room as he lowered himself down. He held onto the panel with both hands as he tried to find somewhere to place his feet. He couldn't feel the floor, but he assumed he must be quite close to it.

His hands holding the panel had started to hurt as the edge of the metal began to dig into his skin. He needed to let go. Although he managed to turn his head to one side, he couldn't see anything clearly. His fingers were starting to become numb, so he decided to let go.

He dropped about six inches and he seemed to have landed on a hard surface.

He looked down.

To his horror, he realised that the surface his feet were resting on was not a floor, but a ledge. The ledge was only around twelve inches wide.

Gasping in a quick breath of air, he pushed himself back towards the wall. He searched desperately for something for his hands to hold on to, but there was nothing. He rested them against the face of the wall and tried not to lean back. The surface was grainy and his hands rasped against it. It felt to him like he was touching some kind of brickwork.

He looked carefully over his shoulders to try and take in his situation. Behind him was a gap of around a hundred feet or so, before the other side of the building loomed into his view. He appeared to be in a courtyard area with four internal brick walls all around him. The actual courtyard surface was far below, about twenty eight floors beneath him in fact. Hedge estimated that number of floors would be around two hundred and eighty feet, allowing ten feet per floor. It was a long way down, and he tried not to look. He managed to twist his head both ways so that he could make out all four walls of the courtyard.

Hedge started to feel the panic rising up within him. He hated heights and had a morbid fear of them ever since he was a child. Closing his eyes for a few seconds, he tried to calm his breathing. He was acutely aware that there was very little for his feet to stand on and even less for his hands to hold on to. He needed to get off this ledge quickly.

A sudden unsteadiness overcame him, and he felt rather queasy. It wasn't going to be easy to move very far. The best way off the ledge would be back through the metal plate above him, but as he looked up he realised there was no way he could reach up to it. He certainly wasn't going to jump.

He looked left and right again to see if there were any other obvious escape routes. There were windows along the wall he was leaning against and these seemed to be about every fifteen feet. Looking to his left he noticed that all the windows in that direction were closed.

He turned his head slowly right and looked along the wall. Again all the windows were closed, except one. It looked like it was open wide enough for him to climb into. But there were two problems with that. Firstly it was the third window along from him, so it was around forty five feet away. Secondly, between him and that window was a concrete pillar running down the wall. The pillar was around two feet wide and at least twelve inches deep. It protruded out as far as the ledge that he was standing on. So if he wanted to get past it, he would have to do so without standing on the ledge.

All this had to be accomplished at nearly three hundred feet above the ground. He couldn't do it.

He felt himself starting to faint.

# Chapter Twenty Seven

Hedge shook himself back to reality. He couldn't afford to let himself pass out, as that would result in a three hundred foot plunge to the courtyard below.

He looked up again at the position of the metal plate. It was definitely impossible to reach, so he had to think of another plan. Glancing once more to his right, he wondered if he could walk forty five feet along the ledge. Even without the pillar it would have been difficult. He wasn't sure he could move at all in fact. He was terrified and kept telling himself not to look down. He moved his feet slowly just to make sure they were securely on the ledge. As he did so, he wished there was something for his hands to hold on to, but there wasn't. His eyes closed for a full minute as he desperately tried to regulate his breathing. He needed to think clearly. What did he have to do?

He decided to see if anyone could hear him. 'Help, help,' he shouted.

He repeated this several times, but the proximity of the wall to his face muffled his voice and reduced the effective volume.

No one answered. He didn't think they would. It was a long way down for his voice to travel.

He realised he had no choice. His only option was to try and get to the open window. That seemed like an impossible task though. Just the thought of moving either of his feet even a few inches absolutely horrified him. He had nothing to hold on to. All he wanted to do was to close his eyes and stay where he was. Perhaps someone would see him and come to his rescue. More likely though, was that he would eventually tire, or pass out, and then fall off the building.

He had to somehow drum up the courage to move along the ledge. He knew it, but even so his feet didn't seem to want to respond.

As he stood there, forcing himself as close to the wall as he could, he thought he heard a familiar noise like that of an electric door opening. The noise seemed to come from the other side of the metal plate above him. Was it the door to the deposit box room opening? He wasn't sure. He estimated that it was about half an hour ago that he had come up in the elevator. Had someone else come into the room? He tried to call out to anyone who might hear him, but he quickly gave up as the movement of his chest caused him to be pushed away from the wall.

He tried to relax himself as much as he could. A few deep breaths seemed to help a little, as he once more looked to his right and prepared himself for movement.

He edged his right foot about six inches and then followed gradually with his left. It wasn't too bad. 'Just don't look down.'

Forcing himself, he carried on moving his feet a few inches at a time. He had his eyes closed mostly, but opened them periodically to see how far away the pillar was. His heart was beating loudly in his chest, and his breath was slow and heavy. He continued to move slowly along the ledge.

He passed the first window, but it was firmly shut and completely dark inside. He tried banging on the glass, but he heard and saw nothing from within, so he carried on inching his way along the ledge.

Hedge was now only a few feet away from the pillar that ran down the building. It wasn't quite as wide as he had first thought, but to get around it still looked like an impossible task. At last, he stopped next to the pillar. He reached out with his right hand to the other side and found he could feel around it. The surface was quite rough, like it had been rendered but left unpainted. He stopped and took a few breaths. This was the tricky part.

Reaching around the pillar, he placed his hand on its far side. He tried to hook his right leg over it, but he could only move it so far before he felt unsteady and had to bring his foot back. He had to get his leg around the pillar somehow. Feeling along the pillar with his right hand, he found a horizontal rim along the front of it. It was at the height of his stomach, and the rim protruded enough for him to get a grip on it with his fingers. He checked with his left hand and found that the rim also occurred on his side of the pillar. He grabbed hold of the rim either side of the pillar with his hands, and with a sudden, bold movement he flicked his right leg across the void and onto the ledge on the other side.

He was now straddling the pillar in a very dangerous position. His feet were on the ledge either side of it, and he was holding on to the rims he had discovered with both hands, as tight as he could.

He closed his eyes and pulled himself tight to the pillar. He tried to steady his breathing while he gathered his strength for the next part of the process. The tricky bit was now how to get his left leg around the pillar and onto the ledge where his right foot was. It was going to be difficult enough, but he had now become aware of two problems that were going to make it even more dangerous.

The first thing he realised was that the ledge on the right hand side of the pillar, all the way to the open window, was not the same as the one he had been on so far. The ledge on the other side of the pillar, where his right foot now stood, was not flat. It sloped at an angle of around twenty degrees down from the horizontal position. The slope down was outwards, towards the void.

The second problem he had, and a more immediate risk, was that the rim he was holding onto with his left hand was starting to break away from the pillar, and the left side of his body was slowly falling backwards.

# Chapter Twenty Eight

Hedge looked over to his left and the rim was indeed breaking free of the main pillar.

What he was holding onto appeared to be a short metal rod sunk into the plaster, and it was coming loose.

He only had a few seconds left before the rod would break free. He had to act now. He let go with his left hand, pulled hard on the rim being held with his right hand, and flicked his left leg across the face of the pillar. He managed to get his left foot onto the ledge next to his right foot, but he didn't feel comfortable. Leaning in against the wall of the building, he rested for a moment. It was now that he realised he had to stand on the balls of his feet in order to counteract the effect of the ledge being at a downward sloping angle.

His heart was racing even faster now, and he took a few more slow breaths, while keeping his eyes tightly shut as he laid his face on the cold brickwork. Although he had now completed the hardest part of the journey, he wasn't sure that he had the strength to carry on.

As he opened his eyes, he couldn't help but look down, and fits of shock ran through his body as he saw the gaping abyss below him. He closed his eyes again and forced himself closer to the wall.

'I can't do it, I can't do it,' he said aloud to no one in particular.

His feet were aching terribly because of the angle they were being held at, and the need to push his body inwards. The back of his legs were screaming with pain also, as his Achilles tendons were stretched to their limits.

He gritted his teeth and forced his eyes open. Looking to his right, he was able to see how far away the open window was. He desperately tried not to look down again, and he threw his gaze skyward.

The slope of the ledge made it almost impossible to maintain his balance, but inch by inch, he started to move his feet again. He tried desperately to stop thinking about what would happen if he slipped off the ledge and plunged down to the ground below. If only he had something for his hands to grip on to, but there was nothing – the wall was just bare, hard brickwork.

Progress was slow, but eventually he passed the second window, again locked tight, and so he carried on towards the open one. His feet were agonisingly painful, but he attempted to focus on keeping his balance and not leaning backwards. He felt tired, scared and dizzy. He tried not to think about falling, just keep moving.

A sudden lapse in concentration, and he accidentally glanced down again, and had to stop for a few precious seconds to steady himself. He felt sick, his feet were tormenting him and he was thirsty. His hands had started to bleed from being rubbed along the wall of the building as he moved along. They felt sore, and grit from the wall was irritating the open wounds.

Eventually, mercifully, he reached the open window and fell inside the building. On the inside was a deep pile carpet and he landed on this with a thump. He lay still for several minutes on the soft surface. The relief he felt was indescribable. Tears came to his eyes and he let them flow as he lay there.

After a while he sat up, wiped his hands across his face and looked around to take in his surroundings. He was in an office. The first thing he noticed was that the door to the office had a handle on it – much to his relief.

He needed to get out of this building and report back to the others. He left the office, found the nearest elevator, and headed back down to the first floor. He felt a little conscious as he walked across the main lobby of the bank, and kept his hands in his pockets so as to hide the injuries they had suffered.

Once outside, he walked quickly back to the car. Cole and Fuller sat in the front seats, so he opened the back door and sprawled himself across the back seat.

'Where the hell have you been?' Fuller said.

Hedge lay quietly on the back seat of the car for a while, gathering enough strength to be able to relay the story.

When he had finished telling them about his experience and the horror of his time on the ledge, Cole looked over at him and told him what a great job he had done.

Cole didn't say anything else during the entire journey back to the hotel. Neither did Fuller. They couldn't. They were both too busy laughing.

# Chapter Twenty Nine

They ate lunch in the bar back at the hotel. Hedge was surprised to find that Angel had joined them.

'He knows Dubai,' Cole had explained. 'I need to ask him about the area around the bank. We now know that there is only one entrance, so we have to keep an eye out for our targets entering the building.'

'There is only one entrance isn't there?' Fuller looked at Hedge with a sly smile as he said this. 'Are we sure no one can get in through an open window somewhere?'

Fuller exploded with laughter, Cole joined in.

Angel looked on with a quizzical frown. 'Is this a private joke or what?'

Hedge had to tell the story once more, for Angel's benefit.

When Hedge had stopped speaking, Angel joined in with the laughter, so now all three of them were howling with delight.

He was getting a bit irritated as they didn't appear to understand the full horror of the situation. His obvious annoyance just made them chuckle even more. Hedge shook his head from side to side. He wasn't going to get any sympathy from these guys.

Eventually Cole raised his hand indicating that they had to get on with more serious issues. He nodded to Fuller, who passed around three black and white photographs.

'We believe there are five cult members in total. It's possible there may be others, but they are likely to be minor players.'

'But only three photos?' said Angel.

Fuller nodded. 'Indeed. We don't have pictures of the gang leader, or of the man who we suspect is the Dubai contact. The first picture here is Anna, who our friend Hedge has met face to face. The next one is Monica, who is unfortunately no longer with us. Finally, we have this man. We know he's a German national but we don't know his name. We think he may be Anna's boyfriend.'

The last photo was blurred slightly, and only showed a side profile of a young, white man. It was difficult to guess his age or see his features as he had a baseball style cap covering his head, and he had a heavy growth of hair on his face and chin.

'Could be anyone,' said Angel dismissively. 'What else do we know about the so-called cult leader?'

'Not a lot. He's an elusive character, and is almost certainly not going to show his face here today,' advised Cole.

They finished lunch while they agreed a plan. They would take it in turns to watch the bank and report back to the others if they saw anyone of interest. Angel offered to do the first watch, even though Cole pointed out that officially he wasn't part of the team.

'Whereas I am a fully fledged member,' Hedge blurted out sarcastically.

'You may not be an expert in espionage, but you are part of the team. You heard the PM's orders,' Cole reminded him.

'Yeah, proper part of the team now, that's you. Perhaps we should stop calling you Hedge, from now on I think 'Ledge' would be more appropriate,' Fuller said with a smile.

'Nice one, very funny,' Hedge replied sarcastically.

He felt tired after his earlier experience and just wanted to go and lie down for a while. Cole told him to do just that, while they dropped Angel back near the bank.

The three of them headed off and Hedge made his way up to his room. He was planning a hot bath, a decent cup of tea, and a long rest. The hot temperature in this country was tiring, and he was still feeling very anxious about the whole mission, and his personal involvement in it.

Meanwhile Fuller was driving the others back towards the city centre. As they approached the bank building, he slowed the car and stopped at the side of the road. Angel jumped out. He was dressed in plain brown, cotton trousers and a white shirt and he blended in well with the other pedestrians walking down the busy street.

'Pick me up here at five o'clock then. Unless I see one of our targets in which case I will give you a call. See you later.'

Angel walked off casually as Cole and Fuller drove back to the hotel to get some rest.

The road was busy with traffic in both directions. The pavement had a steady stream of people going about their normal routines. Angel walked two hundred yards along the road until he was directly opposite the bank. He sat down on a polished, wooden bench which was shaded by some palm trees. A woman dressed completely in black sat at the other end of the bench. She was chatting away on her cell phone and didn't seem to notice Angel. He unfolded the newspaper he was carrying and started to read it. Occasionally he looked up from the paper when anyone either went up or came down the stairs at the front of the bank. He watched intently for a while but he didn't recognise anyone.

He had been sitting on the bench for almost an hour. The woman with the phone had gone a short while ago. A young boy had sat down near him and was eagerly eating what appeared to be a flat bread sandwich. The smell of cooked cheese was being wafted towards Angel by a very slight breeze. He looked at the boy as he continued to devour his snack and it made his mouth water – it had been a while since breakfast he thought to himself.

It was time for him to move on as he didn't want to attract attention to himself. As he stood, a black saloon car pulled up at the kerb nearby. The window went down and the driver leaned out and shouted across to him. 'Hey, am I heading in the right direction for the Jumeirah coast road.'

Angel moved forward towards the car and leaned down near to the driver. 'Yes, you're on the right track. Just fork left about half a mile ahead and it will be clearly signposted.'

'Great thanks,' the driver said as the window went up.

Angel straightened back up.

Then everything went black.

# Chapter Thirty

Angel woke up with a terrible pain coming from the back of his head. He tried to move his hands but he quickly realised they were bound securely above him. Feeling very confused, he tried to work out where he was, but it wasn't immediately obvious. He seemed to be lying face down on a hard plastic floor of some kind. The surface felt slightly wet and it was gently swaying up and down.

He realised he must be on a boat.

He tried to focus his eyes as he looked towards his hands. They were tied securely with rope to a silver coloured metal ring. He tried to move his legs but they felt equally well tied. He guessed that his head was facing the rear of the boat and he turned to face forward. He could now get a feel for the size of the vessel, and he could make out the rough outline of its shape. It was a modern looking motor yacht. The kind he had often seen in the marinas and boatyards all over the world. He could see the right hand side of the boat quite clearly. There was a bench seat running from the back all the way along to where the cabin began. Sitting on the bench were two young women, one dark skinned and one white. Both were wearing bikinis and both were staring at him.

'Hey, does one of you lovely ladies want to cut me loose?' he shouted across to them.

The women didn't respond but just kept glaring at him.

A few seconds later the door of the cabin swung open and a man came out. He was tanned, with dark hair and a well-groomed beard. He wore what appeared to be a white bathrobe, tied at the waist. He walked over to where the two women sat and spoke directly to the dark skinned one.

'I need you to go and get yourself a large drink. I've got a little task lined up for you.'

'That's nice of you Tariq, but I don't need a drink at ....'

Her sentence was cut short as the man she called Tariq gave her a backhanded slap across her face. It wasn't carried out with very much force, but she looked back at him with a shocked expression.

'Just do as I say and don't argue,' he said. 'If you girls behave yourselves I will let you watch the fun.'

The dark woman hesitated just a second to prove a point, then rose and walked into the cabin. Angel heard what sounded like a fridge door opening and the girl came back holding a large plastic bottle.

Tariq walked slowly over to where Angel was laying. He lifted his foot and put it down heavily on the side of his face.

'So you are the one they call The Angel. You don't look very angelic to me. In fact you look like a bit of a thug.'

He smiled as he pressed down harder with his foot on Angel's face. It felt uncomfortable because his right cheekbone was being forced against the hard plastic floor.

'I need to know what your friends are up to right now, and what they are planning,' he said.

'In your dreams, asshole.' Angel's words came out slurred due to the fact that his mouth was distorted out of shape by Tariq's boot.

'I expected you to say something like that.'

He looked towards the cabin of the boat and shouted something in Arabic. Angel knew some words and phrases in that language, but this was a strange dialect and he didn't understand what was being said.

Almost immediately the cabin door opened and a younger man stepped out. He was dressed in a blue boiler suit and was carrying what looked like a small tool bag. He walked to the back of the boat and looked down at Angel with a grin on his face. Tariq nodded at him and the man in the boiler suit reached into his bag and pulled out a small craft knife. Angel thought it looked like the sort of implement that a carpet fitter would use. It looked sharp. The man in the boiler suit moved over and squatted down next to Angel.

# Chapter Thirty One

'One last chance, do you wish to tell me what your friends are planning?' Tariq said this without any real expectation that his captive would talk.

'Get lost you faggot,' replied Angel.

Although Tariq had been made aware that the man before him was a formidable character, what he didn't realise was that Angel had never broken under interrogation before, and he wasn't planning on doing so now. He was something of a legend in his old army unit. He had been captured briefly by Republican militants in Northern Ireland many years ago. Despite having to suffer terrible torture for nearly three hours, he never gave up any information. Not even his name. He had eventually been rescued by a Special Forces team and all of his captors had been ruthlessly eliminated.

His superiors had questioned him on his return to his unit, and they found it hard to believe that he had not talked under interrogation. It was even more unbelievable given the appalling injuries he had received. Amongst other things, his fingernails had been removed with pliers, and a blowtorch had been used liberally on his back. He had screamed at that of course, but to Angel it seemed quite bearable.

Ever since he was a young boy he found he had a strange resistance to pain. Perhaps his nervous system wasn't fully developed, or his brain didn't process nerve signals correctly. Whatever the reason, what other people regarded as potentially horrific pain, Angel shrugged off without too much fuss. He had become known as 'the Angel who never sang'. It was well known that people who had talked under interrogation were said to have sung.

Angel didn't sing.

So when the man with the carpet knife started to cut deep a deep groove into his back, Angel didn't even flinch. He could feel the knife cutting through his skin and he could feel the blood running down his sides, but the pain was bearable.

Tariq watched on with fascination. He had been given a full briefing on his captive, so he knew that it was not going to be an easy task to break this man. He gave a small nod of his head and the younger man made another deep cut into Angel's back, this time longer, around twelve inches in length. More blood started pouring from his back, but still there was no reaction from Angel.

The man with the knife looked up at Tariq. He nodded again. The next cut was very long, and was deliberately made along Angel's spine, starting from near the back of his neck. Angel could feel the blade digging deep into his flesh and bouncing off the small bones and vertebrae that made up his backbone. The cut was slow and deliberate and finished just above his buttocks. There was a lot of blood by now.

The two women were staring at the scene unfolding before their eyes. They both looked shocked by what they were witnessing. They said nothing though, and continued to watch with a mixture of horror and intrigue.

Tariq pushed the younger man away. He called the dark skinned girl over from where she was sitting. She looked scared at first, but slowly walked over when he repeated his request more aggressively.

'Squat down over him,' he told her.

She looked surprised but did as she was told.

'All I need you to do is piss,' he said, and laughed loudly.

As most people are aware, it is not easy to urinate on request, but the girl had been swigging from the large, cold drink that she had taken from the fridge in the cabin. She looked embarrassed at first, but Tariq scowled at her through clenched teeth. She pulled the crotch of her bikini to one side and after a few seconds her flow started. It was just a trickle initially but then became faster.

There is a heavy concentration of salt and various other chemicals in urine and when applied to an open wound it can be extremely painful. Angel winced as the pale, yellow liquid ran down his back, and he clenched his teeth as the freshly made wounds started to sting. The cuts from the knife were deep and the girl's urine ran into his flesh right down to the raw nerves. The pain was intense, but for Angel, not intolerable.

The girl finished, adjusted her bikini and went back to sit on the bench seat. It was clear to Tariq that Angel was going to be more difficult to break than he had thought. He felt slightly irritated as he didn't have much time for all this. He wanted to get back to land as soon as possible. However, he had promised results and so he moved on to the next stage of his interrogation.

He called out several commands and two more of his men came from the back of the boat. Angel noticed that one of them was carrying an oxygen cylinder. It looked like something that a diver would wear on his back. The man placed the cylinder down close to where Angel lay. It had a valve at the top, and a long black tube came from the valve. At the end of the tube was a small pipe which looked like it was made of hard plastic.

Tariq barked an order and his two men started arguing. It was clear to Angel that Tariq wanted one of them to carry out his instructions, but neither of them would. They were shouting obscenities at each other and both were getting very angry. In the end Tariq settled it by grabbing one of the men by the throat and pushing him towards the cylinder.

The man said a few words under his breath and picked up the tube. He reached over behind him and scooped some engine grease from a small green can. He applied the grease liberally to the plastic pipe and then bent close to Angel.

Angel tensed up as he was not sure what was going to happen next. He tried to pull away from the man but he was still tied securely. The man grabbed hold of one of Angel's naked buttocks and pulled his arse cheeks apart. With a quick movement he fed the end of the tube into Angel's anus and pushed hard. It slid in easily, helped along its way by the engine grease. The man pushed hard until around half of the pipe had disappeared, and then he stood back. He clearly hadn't enjoyed his task, and he snarled as he wiped his hands down his trousers.

Tariq smiled as he leaned down to talk to Angel. 'Women say that one of the worst things about giving birth is the pain experienced by trapped wind in their intestines. Apparently it occurs as the baby moves around inside them and blocks the air from escaping. Perhaps you would be good enough to confirm just how painful it actually is.'

With that, he reached for the valve on the top of the cylinder and turned it on. There was a hiss as the gas in the tank started to flow down the tube.

Angel felt the gas enter his intestines, slowly at first, and with little noticeable pain. After around twenty seconds though, he started to feel the pressure build up. It felt like his groin and stomach were both expanding. He began to feel bloated, and the whole of his lower body was now aching, annoyingly at first, but then came the intense pain. It seemed like his insides were being squeezed and twisted. The pressure continued to build, his stomach started to feel more bloated. He felt the urge to push down on his bowel muscles, but when he did so the pain was even more intense. It seemed impossible to him that his body could withstand the pressure he was feeling. His testicles started to scream with agony. The sensation coming from his scrotum was pure torment. It was almost as if someone had placed his balls in a metalworker's vice, and was clamping it slowly shut.

Angel screamed with the pain. Tariq stood watching intently. The two women looked on, with their mouths open and their eyes staring in fascination at the scene before them.

Just when it all seemed unbearable to Angel, Tariq leaned over, smiled broadly, and opened the valve a fraction more. The gas hissed louder.

Angel bit down on his lower lip and as he did so he could taste his own blood. His whole being was now enduring unbearable pressure from the gas accumulating inside him. The organs in his body were being pushed out of place. He desperately wanted the crushing tension inside him to stop. His lungs must have partially collapsed under the intense strain, as he was struggling to draw breath.

He tried to scream again but he didn't hear anything coming from his mouth. A deep blackness descended on him as the pain became too much to bear.

His eyes closed slowly and he passed out.

# Chapter Thirty Two

When Angel came round he was still in terrible pain. The cylinder with the tube had disappeared but he still lay tied on the deck of the boat. He felt very unwell. Some of the pressure in his body had gone, but he was still left with a horrible bloated feeling.

Tariq stood over him. He moved his head closer and spoke quietly near Angel's left ear. 'Well Mr. Angel, do you have anything you want to tell me now?'

Angel slowly opened his mouth to reply. 'There is one thing you should know,' he murmured, 'you need to change your mouthwash, either that or you need to stop eating your own shit.'

Tariq raised himself and turned to his crewmen. 'That's enough of this. We are wasting our time. Prepare this idiot for the fishing line.'

The crewmen rushed forward enthusiastically and untied Angel from the deck, making sure his two hands were bound together. He was then strung up to a wooden boom near the back of the boat. His hands were tied to the end of the boom and his legs dangled beneath him, so that his feet were a few inches above the deck of the boat.

'Before we proceed, I want you to make sure that he can't lift his legs out of the water. Remember what we did to the Egyptian guy we caught stealing from us last year?'

One of the crewmen understood what Tariq was referring to and he rushed off towards the front of the boat. He came back a few seconds later carrying a large hammer, almost the size of a sledgehammer. Tariq took the implement from him and held it by the wooden handle. He rested the other end, made from solid iron, on the deck. He nodded towards Angel and the crewman swung him round so that his back was facing Tariq.

Tariq walked over and stood close to Angel. With his free hand he felt down Angel's back so that he could establish exactly where the base of his spine was. It wasn't easy as there was still blood seeping out from the cuts made earlier. Once he was happy that he had found the right spot, he took a pace backwards and swung the heavy hammer so that it crashed into Angel's backbone. It struck just where it was intended to, and the bone and spinal cord were both crushed by the force of the blow.

Angel shouted out as he felt his spine being smashed to pieces, and a terrible pain ran through his body. Tariq smiled as he threw down the hammer and ordered his men to carry on.

The boom that Angel was hanging from was now swung out over the back of the boat and then lowered until all of Angel's legs were beneath the water.

Tariq looked over the back of the boat and explained to Angel what was about to happen.

'It's very important that you keep your legs in the water at all times, and that is where the hammer blow comes in. Although you can still feel pain in your legs, you will not be able to manipulate them in any way. So even if you wanted to lift them up, you won't be able to.'

He paused to smile for a moment before continuing.

'You may be aware that sharks are supposed to be able to detect blood from a long way off. Although blood does work, there is something that I have found to be much more effective. If you use fresh pigs liver as bait, for some reason the sharks are much more responsive and it also seems to make them more aggressive.'

With that, one of his men passed him a bucket which was full of a brown liquid with what looked like lumps of animal offal floating about in it. Tariq swung the bucket and emptied the contents over the back of the boat as near to Angel as he could.

Tariq threw the bucket down on the deck. The men on the boat stared out over the sea in anticipation. The two girls rose from their seats to try and get a better view of what was going on. All of them started to scan the near horizon to see if there was any activity.

The sea remained relatively calm and the boat bobbed gently up and down. Angel tried not to panic as he hung under the boom, with the lower half of his body under water. He hoped there were no sharks in the immediate vicinity. Five minutes passed but nothing happened, and the men on the boat started to feel disappointed.

Then a grey fin appeared about a hundred metres off the back of the boat.

# Chapter Thirty Three

There are many types of shark that have been seen around the coast of Dubai and most of them are usually harmless. However, the one that was now heading towards the boat was a Bull shark, and it was definitely not harmless. Bull sharks are known to be aggressive and tend to favour coastal areas with relatively shallow water. This particular shark hadn't eaten a large meal for several days, so it was hungry. It was also aroused by the offal and blood it could detect in the water.

There were a few murmurs of excitement from the passengers on the boat as they saw the sleek, grey object heading towards them. Angel could sense the change in mood and he could feel himself start to panic. He tried to twist his body around to see what was heading towards him, but he was too low in the water and could see nothing. Also, the attempted movement of his body caused him to scream in agony as the shattered bones of his spinal column grated against each other.

The shark was now close to the boat and it disappeared beneath the water in an attempt to find some of the pig's offal that it could smell. It took a few mouthfuls of liver and swung around to find more.

Angel could now see the shape in the water and as the shark turned he caught a glimpse of the teeth that lined the front of the shark's mouth. He tried to pull himself up the rope that held him to the boom, but he didn't have the strength to move very far. It was also very painful. After a couple of attempts he thought it better just to keep still and not attract the attention of the shark. Angel felt very vulnerable with his legs hanging in the water. He wasn't afraid of pain, but he didn't particularly wish to have a shark bite into him. He was acutely aware of how much he valued the use of his limbs. He also valued his life, and he felt certain that any attack from the shark would likely kill him due to blood loss.

The shark kept circling trying to pick up more pieces of the liver in the water. Once or twice it came very close to Angel but appeared not to notice him. After what seemed like an eternity, the animal took one final turn, scooped up a mouthful of the remaining offal, and headed back out to sea.

Angel felt a wave of relief surge over him. The shark had clearly become bored with trying to find small scraps of offal and was off to hunt for a bigger prize. It hadn't detected the lower half of Angel's body in the water. He began to feel a bit calmer. He didn't realise just how tense he had been while the shark was swimming around him. As he relaxed he became aware that he needed to empty his bowels. This feeling was mainly due to the pressure of the gas that had been forced into his intestines. It was incredibly uncomfortable and he desperately needed to relieve the strain.

He pushed down hard from his lower stomach and a large amount of wind was forced out of his backside. It was agonising doing this as his shattered backbone was still giving him excruciating pain. However, he felt the need to push again and more gas came out. The pressure inside him started to reduce, thankfully, and he continued to try to force the gas out. The reduction of this internal crushing sensation, along with the release of tension from the presence of the shark, made Angel feel slightly better. He was engulfed with the need for one final push. It was a big push, but as it happened, nearly all of the gas had now been forced out. What he was now pushing out was solid waste.

Before he realised, he was defecating into the sea.

The watchers on the boat had been disappointed to see the shark leave so quickly, particularly as Angel appeared to be completely unharmed. Tariq was clearly annoyed with this failed attempt to have Angel eaten alive. He became even angrier when the smell of human faeces reached his nostrils. He turned to look at the brown stain that now appeared in the water near Angel. His face creased in disgust and he turned his head away from the smell. The other people on the boat, including the two women also noticed the stench, and were all equally revolted by it.

What was interesting to note was that the people on the boat had become aware of the acute smell around five seconds after Angel had relieved himself.

Meanwhile, the shark had moved quickly through the water, and was by that time just over a mile away from the boat.

Sharks have an incredible ability to detect odours in the water from a considerable distance. Amazingly, the shark smelt the same odour in the water a split second before the humans on the boat smelt it. The only difference was that the shark didn't smell human waste.

It didn't smell what the people on the boat did.

It smelt fear. It smelt distress. It smelt panic.

It turned immediately and headed back in the direction of the boat.

# Chapter Thirty Four

Back on the boat Tariq had started issuing instructions to his crew. Two of the men had moved towards the boom hanging off the back in order to start bringing Angel back on board. The two girls had sat back down on the bench seat. One of the crew suddenly shouted that he could see something in the water and so they all looked out over the back of the vessel.

Angel tried to see what they were looking at, and as he turned he saw a blur directly in front of him. Panic started to well up within him once more. Was it a fin he saw, he wasn't sure? He turned his head quickly from side to side, trying desperately to pick out any movement in the water around him. He thought his ordeal was over. Had the shark returned?

A split second later, he sensed a movement in the water nearby. Then suddenly, he sensed a hard tug on his right leg. There was no immediate pain, but he was pulled under the water briefly, before the boom dragged his body back up.

The shark had taken off his right leg just above the knee and was in the process of trying to swallow the body part whole. The power of the shark's bite had ensured a swift cut, straight through the skin, muscle and bone of Angel's leg.

It was a full five seconds before the pain hit Angel. The bite had torn the muscle in his leg, and this along with the bone injury, all mixing with the salt from the sea, left Angel with horrendous agony. He screamed out loud, not just from pain but from the shock of what had just happened to him. He was bleeding profusely from the injury. A light lightheaded feeling washed over him, partly from the trauma but also from the blood loss. He was thrashing about in the water trying to make the pain reduce. It didn't help. All that he achieved in fact was to attract the shark's attention once more.

With its second bite the shark took the top part of Angels left leg, along with a sizeable chunk of his lower stomach and what was left of his right leg. It was a big mouthful, but this was a large Bull shark. It was unable to swallow such an amount of bone and flesh in one gulp and so it had to dive deeper in the sea while it gnawed its way through its prize. As it chewed it headed slowly out to sea. What it had eaten would keep hunger at bay for a while.

Angel felt the pain of the second bite for only a few seconds and then he blacked out. He now had massive injuries from the lower half of his body, and the blood loss he had incurred was not survivable. He died a few seconds later.

The men on the boat were cheering loudly. The two girls had witnessed the carnage in the sea also. They both looked shocked, but felt unable to tear their eyes away from the dead man hanging off the back off the boat. The sea had turned a purple colour as a result of it now containing nearly all of Angel's blood.

Tariq had also watched the scene. He smiled with delight. This is exactly what he had hoped would happen. He felt elated, excited, and extremely aroused. He barked some orders to his crew and then turned to the dark skinned girl.

'Come to my room below immediately,' he said, and headed back into the cabin.

The girl nodded, rolled her eyes to her companion, and then followed close behind him.

It was a small boat and noise travelled easily. It was less than five minutes after he had left the deck, that the other people on board heard Tariq screaming in ecstasy. He would tell friends later that it was the quickest climax he had ever achieved.

# Chapter Thirty Five

Fuller and Cole drove back to the spot where they had dropped Angel earlier in the day. It was just after five o'clock in the afternoon. They were a few minutes late due to the heavy traffic. The idea was that one of them would take over from Angel and carry on watching the bank, at least until it closed later in the evening.

They waited for about fifteen minutes, but there was no sign of Angel. There seemed to be a lot of traffic, and so parking at the side of the road was not easy. More than once, an impatient driver beeped noisily at them as they tried to manoeuvre their own vehicles past the waiting car.

'Let's give him a few more minutes and then we had better go. We look too suspicious sitting here,' said Cole.

Fuller was dialling a number on his cell phone and it answered almost immediately. 'Hello, this is Mr. Fuller here. I am staying at your hotel at the moment. Has anyone left any messages for me?'

'No messages for you,' replied the hotel receptionist, 'but I do have a parcel addressed to Mr. Cole. I believe he is one of your colleagues. There is a note with the parcel.'

'Mr. Cole is here with me now. Can you open the message and read it out please.'

There was a short delay, and a tapping noise as the person at the other end placed the telephone handset on the desk. Then the receptionist came back on the line.

'The message says, "Don't wait around for me Cole. I got bored with hanging about outside the bank, and so have taken the rest of the day off to go fishing. I caught something big. See inside."'

'Who does it say it is from?'

'It doesn't say. There is no name or address showing.'

'We will be back in a few minutes to collect the parcel,' said Fuller, and he hung up.

Cole drove them both back to the hotel. They collected the package from the front desk and headed up to Hedge's room. He let them in after they banged loudly on the door for the second time.

'Someone's in a rush,' he said as he answered the door.

Cole explained what had happened and laid the package on the bed. It was a brown cardboard box about twelve inches square. He tore off the tape holding down the lid and opened it. Inside was a plastic bag, and within that was what looked like a small leg of pork. There was some blood on the end of the meat, and a sharp, white bone stuck out from one end of it.

'Someone has sent us our lunch,' said Fuller, somewhat nervously. He hadn't quite worked out what exactly he was looking at.

'What is it?' said Hedge. 'It smells a bit like salted bacon.'

Cole turned the bag over and pointed at an area that still had some skin covering the meat. The surface of the skin appeared to have some bite marks clearly showing, and there were ink markings also visible.

'I don't know many pigs that had a tattoo exactly like the one that Angel had on his left arm. No wonder he didn't show up at the bank just now,' said Cole.

The three of them went quiet. They now knew what they were looking at.

'Oh shit.' Hedge's words came out almost as a whisper. He turned his gaze away from the bed. His face had turned pale and he looked like he was going to be sick. He took a few deep breaths and then turned back to face the others.

'These guys will now know what we are planning, don't you think?'

'They'll know shit,' said Cole. 'Anyone other than Angel would have given away their life story, but not him. He wouldn't reveal his collar size, let alone anything of use. Not even to bastards like this lot.'

Fuller was about to put the lid back on the box when he noticed a small envelope under the plastic bag. He picked it up. It wasn't sealed, so he pulled out the contents. It contained a folded sheet of paper and several photographs. He studied the photos and then passed them to the other two.

The first one was a picture of the tall building they had seen when they first drove into Dubai – The Burj Khalifa. The second was a view of the city, seemingly from high up the same building. Next was a picture of an arm holding an object out of an open window. It was difficult to make out what the last photo was showing. It looked like a pizza had been dropped onto a clean pavement, except the pizza seemed to be spread out over a large area – possibly twenty feet wide.

Hedge and Cole looked perplexed. They both turned back to face Fuller as if expecting an explanation.

The answer came when he read the words on the folded paper.

'It seems your friends head didn't bounce very well, although that's not surprising when it has been dropped from eight hundred metres high. Go home. Leave Dubai on the next available flight. Or you will be next.'

Fuller looked up from the paper. He had a serious expression on his face, but there was also a hint of deep sadness.

'Whoever did this is going to pay. I guarantee it.'

Cole looked angry, and grim, but said nothing. Hedge had tears in his eyes, as he turned and headed for the bathroom. He closed the door behind him.

A short while later, they all went off to do their own things, and to get some sleep. They were all still deeply shocked. Cole took the box and its contents away to see if he could dispose of it somewhere. They agreed to meet up the following morning.

The next day was hotter than ever. It must have been close to forty degrees and Cole was feeling a bit pissed off. Things weren't turning out quite as he had expected, so he decided to try a different approach.

They drove back towards the bank and parked the car in a street nearby. Cole and Hedge headed into the bank, leaving Fuller to keep an eye on things outside. Once in the building, Cole walked over to the information desk and asked to speak to the manager of the branch. The assistant explained that the manager was rather busy, but would be free in maybe twenty minutes time.

'We'll wait,' said Cole. His voice indicated that he was still in a bad mood.

It was over half an hour later that the two of them were shown into the manager's office. He was a short man, with a pale complexion. Cole was expecting someone Arabic looking, but this guy looked like a European. He ushered them into some chairs and offered glasses of water, before moving round to sit behind his desk. The surface of the desk was clear, with no paperwork showing anywhere. All that was visible was a telephone, a calculator, and a picture of what looked like his wife in a silver frame.

'My name is Brandt. How may I help you today Mr. Cole. I'm afraid I don't have much time though,' the manager said.

'That's good,' said Cole. 'I will be brief then. I have two pictures to show you, and I need some information. This is the first picture. I need to know who this man is and if he has made any deposits into your bank recently.'

Cole held up the black and white photograph of the man they suspected was Anna's boyfriend – the German. It seemed possible that he could have been the one who would have deposited the blackmail proceeds.

'I am afraid I am unable to help you with this matter. We cannot give out confidential personal information such as this,' Brandt responded.

'Look at the photograph please,' Cole persisted.

'It is a waste of time looking. I am not able to help you. We operate under very strict confidentiality guidelines. Now, I really am very busy, so if there is nothing else then I would please ask you to leave.'

'Then I need you to look at the second photograph.' Cole's face was stony.

He held up a smaller black and white shot. There was a young woman in the picture. She was attractive, maybe aged around mid-thirties. She looked Arabic.

'Do you know this woman?' said Cole.

'Again, I must stress that we operate under very strict.....'

'Look at the photo,' Cole shouted at him.

Brandt looked. His eyes gave him away immediately. His mouth opened a little, but no words came out. A nervous twitch had developed just under his left eyebrow, and small beads of sweat appeared on his forehead.

'I don't know who this is. How should I know this?....' Brandt started to say.

'Let's cut the crap,' said Cole. 'As you say, you don't have much time. Now the Sharia authorities would be very interested if I gave them this picture. Just remind me, what is the punishment under Islamic law for adultery? I think the woman would be stoned to death. Whereas you, well you might just get away with fifty lashes. So, you decide. Which of these two pictures do you want to talk to me about?'

Twenty minutes later Cole and Hedge were back in the car.

'How did you get on?' said Fuller.

'The manager was surprisingly cooperative.' Cole smiled for the first time in a while.

'As were your mates at MI5, I'm guessing,' said Hedge.

Cole winked at him in response.

Cole then explained to Fuller what he had learnt. The manager did know the man in the photograph, although the name he had used to set up the accounts was likely to be false. However, Cole would send the name over to a colleague in London anyway, to see if they had any further information on him. He had also volunteered some additional details, maybe because the photo of the woman that Cole had showed him had made him very nervous. He informed them that there was another man who had previously come into the bank with the German. The manager knew him as Tariq, that's all. Cole sent this name over to his contact in London also.

It turned out that a large part of the blackmail proceeds had in fact been deposited in this particular bank, but two days ago all the accounts had been cleared completely, and the money electronically transferred to a set of numbered accounts in the British Virgin Islands. That was where they needed to go next.

'I like the idea of that. All those virgins just waiting for us,' said Fuller.

They all laughed. Humour took away some of the stress of working on a job like this. They were all still in shock after receiving the parcel containing one of Angel's body parts. They could only imagine what might have happened to him.

Fuller fired up the car and drove them back to the hotel.

# Chapter Thirty Six

They boarded an Emirates Airline flight from Dubai to Florida the following morning. There were no direct flights to the British Virgin Islands, so instead they had to change planes at Miami and then again in Puerto Rico. The last two legs of the journey were on flights operated by American Airlines.

Cole had arranged with the British Embassy in Dubai for their baggage to be given diplomatic status for the journey. When this request was initially queried by a nervous looking official, he had simply called a Downing Street number and had his authority sanctioned. This meant that their luggage would not be searched during the journey. They would hopefully be the only passengers on the plane carrying firearms.

Cole again sat next to Hedge on the flight to Miami. He was stressed and needed something to distract him. 'So tell me some more about this boarding school of yours. Did you meet any interesting girls during your time there?'

Hedge smiled. 'Yes a few. None very serious though. There was one particular person, but she wasn't actually a student at the school.'

'So a proper girlfriend, by the sounds of it then,' said Cole. 'Do tell me more,'

'Not a girlfriend, rather just a special lady who gave me some lovely memories. No, I am not going to tell you about her, so give it up.'

Cole let it go. 'Okay, tell me some more about these senior boys then. Got any more of those bullying experiences? The last one was pretty hilarious.'

'Not very funny if you were there at the time.' Hedge had a serious expression on his face.

'I guess not. But I'm interested. And we have a long flight ahead of us, so we have plenty of time to kill.'

Hedge was quiet for a moment, he looked thoughtful. 'There is one story you might like, knowing now what a sadist you are.'

'Start talking then.' Cole leant back in his seat.

Hedge relayed an episode from his third year at Upperdale. The story took about fifteen minutes to tell. Hedge talked slowly and Cole listened attentively.

The incident related to one particular morning, when Hedge had drunk more than his fair share of milk at the breakfast table. The senior boy on the same table had punished Hedge by making him drink all the remaining milk, and then locking him in a cupboard for the rest of the morning. The senior had even tied a handkerchief tightly around Hedge's penis to prevent him from pissing. Hedge had been in terrible pain. It had felt like his bladder was going to explode. He had eventually been released from his torment, but not before he had broken down in tears.

He never put milk on his cereal for the rest of his time at Upperdale. In fact, since that day, he had rarely drunk milk at all. Over the next few years, several people asked him why, but he just shrugged and said he didn't like the taste.

Cole listened to the story with great interest. When Hedge had finished, he didn't know whether to laugh or cry. On the one hand it was quite funny, but he sympathised with the pain, which must have been unbearable.

'There were some very pleasant boys at your school,' he said sarcastically, and laughed. 'Now I need a piss myself.' He unbuckled his seat belt, stood up, and headed off down the aisle in search of the toilet.

# Chapter Thirty Seven

They finally arrived at the small airport in Tortola – the main island in the group known as the British Virgin Islands, or BVI for short. The airport was basic, and the arrivals hall was essentially a large shed. In the nearby, dusty car park they found a smiling taxi driver and allowed themselves to be ushered into his ten year old Mercedes car.

The capital of Tortola was a small place called Road Town. To call it a capital was overstating it, as the whole island population was only around thirty thousand souls.

The BVI is well known for two things.

Firstly, people come here from all over for the world for the excellent sailing that is on offer. There are top class yachts available for rental, and the cruising between the many islands in the group is simply exquisite. The only caveat was that hire craft were not allowed near the large island of Anegada, as it was surrounded by fierce coral reefs, and many novice sailors had lost boats in this area. In recent times this rule has been relaxed, due to the availability of good quality satellite navigation systems.

The second, and arguably the most important thing that the BVI is known for, is offshore finance. There are literally hundreds of thousands of companies and trusts set up in the BVI jurisdiction, largely because of the tax benefits of doing so.

The manager of the bank they had visited in Dubai had told them that the funds his organisation had been holding had been transferred here. He was unable to say which particular institution the money had been sent to as the transfer had been to the BVI central clearing bank, and from there it would then pass it on to its final destination. Everything was done with specific codes, as secrecy was of the utmost importance. So tracking down where the money had ultimately been transferred to would be a difficult challenge.

They spent the first two days in Road Town going round some of the larger Trust companies to see if any of the staff recognised Anna or the German from the photos they were shown. Hedge had a few contacts from his work back in London, and he looked these people up first. Not surprisingly perhaps, they got no positive responses. Banking is a confidential business at the best of times, but these offshore tax havens operate on another level entirely. The people they approached were reluctant to give them any information at all.

On the morning of the third day they were all getting a little frustrated. The weather didn't help as it was over thirty five degrees and incredibly humid. They were constantly stopping to get drinks, as every time they walked for more than ten minutes they seemed to become completely dehydrated. They decided to stop for an early lunch at a small cafe overlooking a marina at a place simply called the Fish Bar. Cole ordered a swordfish dish, but the other two settled for the classic BVI offering of chicken and rice.

The wind was blowing onshore and it cooled them as they sat and enjoyed the view. The smell of salt, fish, and ripe mangos wafted onto the terrace where they sat. It would have been a perfect place for a holiday Hedge thought to himself as he tucked into his fried chicken.

Fuller looked like he was in a bad mood and he ate without saying very much.

'How about we take tomorrow morning off and have a little fun while we're here,' he eventually suggested. 'We could go sea diving, it's supposed to be very good in these waters.'

'Good idea Fuller. You go too,' Cole looked at Hedge as he replied. 'You can keep an eye on him and make sure he stays out of trouble. I've got a few more leads to follow up in town here, and I need to make contact with London again.'

He was going to make a joke about keeping clear of sharks, but then he remembered seeing the terribly mutilated body part belonging to Angel, and he stopped himself.

Hedge nodded, and agreed to go along. He had completed a basic diving course while on holiday in Egypt a few years earlier. His PADI diver's card was still valid.

Fuller seemed to cheer up a little. He was a keen diver and was looking forward to the experience tomorrow. They agreed to all meet up again later in the day, after the diving.

First thing next morning Hedge and Fuller found a local dive operator, and managed to get a place on a vessel going out at ten o'clock. They stood together near the front of the boat as it headed out to sea from Road Town. The craft bounced gently as it cut through the waves. It was another hot Caribbean day, and their fellow divers that morning were, like them, dressed simply in shorts and T-shirts. They would change into wet suits once they had reached the dive site.

The trip leader today was a man called Joe Jackson. He was a native Virgin Islander, or at least he had been ever since his distant relatives were brought over from West Africa in a slave ship. He was a tall man with well-toned limbs. When he smiled his mouth seemed to overflow with clean white teeth, in stark contrast to the dark colouring of his face. He had told them that he had completed over two hundred dives, mostly in this area of the Caribbean, but also in other parts of the world.

They were heading for an area known for having several old shipwrecks. One of these was of particular interest as local rumour said it was believed to have been carrying a large cargo of gold back to Spain during the period of the conquistadors. It had sunk in a fierce storm, apparently with no survivors. Many divers had explored the wreck of course, but no gold had ever been found. Hedge thought that maybe it was just a story to attract tourists to the site.

The boat stopped and Joe pressed a button on the console to put down the anchor. He then raised a small pennant at the top of the aerial mast which indicated to other nearby craft that there were divers in the water.

There was a small island about two hundred metres away from the boat. Joe had explained that this was known as Dead Chest Island. It was here that Captain Hook had buried a box of treasure, according to the book Treasure Island. Apparently the song 'Fifteen men on the dead man's chest, yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of rum,' relates to this same place.

There were three other men on the boat along with Hedge, Fuller and Joe. They appeared to be Americans, two middle aged and one in his mid to late twenties. The younger guy was well tanned and wore large framed, designer sunglasses, presumably to protect his eyes from the fierce glare of the sun. He said very little, apart from telling them that his name was Jack. Hedge didn't pay his fellow divers much attention as he was starting to get nervous about going underwater. It had been a while since he had last dived, and he now wished he had taken a refresher course before heading out to sea with these more experienced guys.

Joe instructed them all to get changed into wet suits and start to sort out their diving equipment. Hedge and Fuller unpacked their gear. Fuller was an expert diver, and he helped Hedge with his kit. Hedge, Fuller and Jack were to dive together for the first thirty minutes. Joe would wait on board the boat with the other two Americans and go underwater when the first three returned.

Ten minutes later, after the mandatory equipment checks, the first group of divers rolled backwards off the boat and slowly descended to around twelve metres below the surface. They stayed close together as none of them were familiar with these waters. Fuller led the way and kept pointing out different fish and the occasional stingray. The rays were hard to spot as they lay motionless on the sea bed, the only giveaway being the large spike sticking up from the end of the tail of the ray. Accidentally standing on this sting would bring severe pain to anyone unfortunate enough to let it happen.

They had been heading roughly north from the boat for around five minutes, when they noticed the black silhouette of a wreck. Jack had been hanging behind up until now, but he pointed excitedly at the sunken ship and he swam off ahead of the other two.

After a brief investigation, Hedge and Fuller had found an opening in the hull of the ship, but it was too small for them to get through, so they continued to circle the wreck. Jack followed them, and stayed close behind Fuller. He obviously felt more secure with a highly experienced diver close at hand, Hedge thought to himself.

They had just finished looking into various portholes on the side of the wreck, when Jack pointed to something that lay on the sea bed below them. It looked like a piece of old wood, and he seemed quite excited by this, so they all went to take a closer look.

It was when Fuller was close to the bottom studying the section of decayed wood, that Jack suddenly produced what looked like a short harpoon gun. He must have had it hidden in his wetsuit somehow, and neither Hedge nor Fuller had noticed him pull it out. Jack quickly swam over to where Fuller was laying quite close to the sea bed. He casually placed the point of the harpoon against the back of Fullers calf muscle and pulled the trigger.

There was a brief 'whoosh' sound as the long, metal dart pierced through Fullers leg and buried itself into the sand below. This particular harpoon gun was high powered and was an expensive piece of kit. The dart was made of solid titanium, and had a barb at the sharp end. The dart passed through the muscle and bone of Fuller's leg with ease. Once it had come to rest in the seabed, the barb opened a fraction, which made it impossible to pull it out of the compacted sand. Fuller's leg was effectively pinned down.

Fuller let out a gurgled scream as the pain wracked through his body. He could feel the torn muscle and the broken bone in his lower leg. He looked around to see what was causing him such agony, but all he could see was the metallic dart projecting from his calf. The sea around his leg was beginning to turn red as he started to lose blood from the wound. He instinctively tried to reach out behind him to pull at the dart, but all that did was tear more of his leg muscle. He screamed again and he did so the compressed air regulator was pushed out of his mouth.

Jack had been watching the scene with some satisfaction. He now took the opportunity to grab hold of Fuller's regulator and pull it sharply. This breathing mouthpiece was connected to the air tank by a short plastic tube, and Jack's action caused it to break away from the tank completely. There was a huge bubbling noise as the remaining air in Fuller's tank escaped and disappeared upwards. Air that should have kept Fuller alive underwater for the next fifteen minutes, disappeared within a matter of seconds. The breathing equipment that Fuller had been using was now completely useless.

Jack didn't hesitate a moment longer. His work was done. He turned away from the wreck and swam off.

# Chapter Thirty Eight

Hedge watched with horror as the scene had unfolded before him. He hadn't been able to react initially as he was a few metres away, but now he swam quickly over to Fuller to see what he could do. Fuller was pointing at the mouthpiece that Hedge was breathing from, and he understood immediately. He took a deep breath from his tank, before removing his regulator from his lips and passing it over. Fuller took a deep breath, exhaled quickly, took another breath and passed the mouthpiece back to Hedge.

By the time Hedge was taking his next breath, he felt desperate for air. This kind of 'buddy breathing' was all very well in the diving manual, but in reality it didn't leave much time for each person to draw air. Hedge was not sure how long he could maintain this for. Not for very many minutes he guessed.

He passed the regulator back to Fuller and decided that after his next turn, he would need to do something to help their situation. He was clearly not going to be able to move Fuller without causing him significant pain or injury. The dart was still stuck firmly in the sea bed, and Fuller appeared to be losing blood at an alarming rate. Hedge guessed that he would probably go into shock within the next minute or two.

Hedge took one more long breath and then made his decision. He passed the regulator back to Fuller and unstrapped his own air tank, leaving it resting on the sea bed. Then, pointing upwards so that Fuller knew what he was doing, he headed for the surface.

Hedge tried to remember what the manual advised when you have to make an emergency ascent. He recalled that if you didn't breathe out slowly then your lungs would expand as you went up. This could cause the lungs to overinflate, and even burst. With this at the front of his mind, he tried to slow down his rate of ascent and breathe air out slowly as he went. It only seemed to take a few seconds before he had reached the surface of the water. Had he gone up too quickly? He wasn't sure, but he felt okay. He tried to concentrate on what he needed to do next. Fuller now had a supply of air for at least the next fifteen minutes, but he may not stay conscious for that long.

Hedge saw the dive boat about two hundred metres to his left. Waving his arms frantically, he began shouting for help. No one on the boat seemed to be able to see him or hear him so he started to swim towards the boat as fast as he could. It helped that he had flippers on his feet and so within a couple of minutes he had reached the vessel. He couldn't quite pull himself up to the side of the boat and so he banged vigorously on the hull with both his hands.

Joe was the first person on board to react. He looked over the side and saw Hedge below in the water. 'What's the matter,' he called down to him. 'Is everything okay?'

'No, it isn't. That guy who called himself Jack has attacked Fuller with a harpoon gun. He is stuck fast to the sea bed and needs urgent help. His breathing apparatus was damaged so I left him with mine. We need to get back to him without delay.'

Joe reacted quickly. He told the other two on the boat to see if they could get help on the radio. 'Looks like we are going to need immediate medical assistance.'

He then passed a spare dive tank and breathing set down to Hedge, who was still in the water.

'Put that on and lead me to your friend.'

Hedge struggled to get the kit on because of the swell of the sea, but he finally managed to secure the tank to his back, and then tested out the mouthpiece. It seemed to work fine.

They set off in the direction of the wreck with Hedge leading. The two of them descended to the sea bed as they approached where Fuller had been pinned down. The shadow of the wreck appeared before them, and they saw what looked like a red cloud just ahead.

Hedge looked a little closer and managed to see the outline of Fuller. As he did so, he gasped in horror and choked on the seawater that he'd accidentally swallowed. He looked again and couldn't believe what he saw.

The man known as Jack had obviously returned to the scene while he had been away getting help.

# Chapter Thirty Nine

Jack was nowhere to be seen, but it was evident to Hedge that he had returned.

He had shot another titanium dart from the harpoon gun, and it had pierced Fuller's head. It looked like the weapon had been fired at close range into Fuller's left eye socket. The eyeball was missing, and the barb of the dart was sticking out of the back of Fuller's skull. There was a hole around the size of a golf ball where the dart had exited, and a mixture of what looked like white brain matter and thick red blood was oozing out of this hole.

There was no sign of Jack. He must have come back just after Hedge had swum off to get help. Hedge imagined that Fuller would have been horrified when he saw Jack coming back towards him with the harpoon freshly loaded. He would have been unable to put up much of a fight, as he would have been very weak due to the shock from the blood he had already lost.

Hedge felt sick at the thought of Fuller's sudden death. He had not known him for very long, but they had become friends. They had been through a lot together over the last few weeks.

Joe seemed quite calm, given the circumstances. He swam over to the body and began to dig in the hard sand around Fuller's leg in an effort to free him. He produced a steel diver's knife and was busy scraping away chunks of the sea bed.

Hedge grabbed hold of the limp body and tried to hold it still while Joe continued with his work. Eventually Joe tugged the dart free, and they both slowly swam to the surface carefully holding on to Fuller's inert body.

They managed to get him back to the boat, gently laid out the body and then covered it with a black plastic sheet. One of the Americans on board had got through to the coastguard on the radio and advised them that they had a potential medical situation. He wasn't able to give any specific details, but had asked the coastguard to attend the scene as soon as possible.

Less than ten minutes after Joe and Hedge had arrived back at the boat, the coastguard was pulling up alongside. They had a doctor on board, but a quick examination of the body was all he needed. The coastguard officer advised that they would all have to give statements back at the police station in Road Town, so both boats headed back that way.

The rest of the day and most of the evening was taken up at the police station where all the passengers from the dive boat had to be interviewed. The local police asked them what they all knew about the man who called himself Jack, but all they could do was give a brief description as none of them were familiar with him. The police said they would continue to look for the man, but it was likely that he was long gone by now. In all probability he would have prearranged to be picked up by boat and whisked off to sanctuary somewhere in the nearby U.S. Virgin islands, or maybe even Puerto Rico.

Hedge was collected from the police station by Cole. They were both deeply depressed by the death of another of their colleagues. Once Hedge had explained what had happened, Cole remained quiet. He seemed lost in his own thoughts. He and Fuller had been friends for a long time and it would be a hard loss for him to bear. They found a quiet bar on the eastern side of Tortola and ordered some drinks. Neither of them felt hungry. They drank several beers but the mood remained sombre.

'It's them,' said Cole. 'They obviously knew we were here and wanted to send us a message. I am going to find the leader of this so called Palindrome Cult _,_ and I am going to personally cut his throat.'

Hedge said nothing. Cole sounded like he meant what he had said. He glanced across the table at Cole who looked mortified and also intensely angry. He drained his glass and stood up.

'Let's get back to the hotel. We need to get some sleep. We still have a job to do. Let's finish it and get back home.' With that Cole left the bar and headed for the car park.

Something had been troubling Hedge ever since the tragic event earlier in the day, and when they arrived back at the hotel, he asked Cole for another look at the photograph of the German. He studied it carefully for a while.

'What are you looking for?' Cole's voice was dull and monotone.

'I don't know how we missed it, but if you take away the beard and the moustache, this could be the same person as the young guy on the boat,' said Hedge.

'Are you sure?'

'Not a hundred percent, but it's possible. This picture isn't very clear, but the eyes and the mouth look similar.'

'He was taking quite a risk by showing himself in front of you and Fuller, don't you think.'

'Not really, I guess he thought we didn't know who he was.'

'We need to find this guy,' said Cole with a serious look on his face.

# Chapter Forty

The following day, the two of them left the hotel immediately after breakfast. They were both still subdued, but the plan was to continue to work through the list of Trust Companies to see if any of them recognised any members of the gang.

As they were now well aware though, these organisations who handle large offshore funds are always cautious when it comes to giving out client information. Cole however continued to advise them that this was a British government enquiry and cooperation was appreciated. It helped to mention that those businesses who refused to assist Cole may well find themselves on a UK Inland Revenue hit list. The abuse of offshore finance was being investigated at the present time not just by the UK, but also by all the major European countries. Not surprisingly, it helped when this piece of information was slipped into the conversation.

It was early afternoon when they finally got the breakthrough they needed. It wasn't from any of the companies they had visited that day though. None of those had provided any leads, despite being shown the photographs of the known cult members.

It was just when they were feeling like they were getting nowhere. The heat was intense and they probably hadn't been drinking enough fluids. They were both getting stressed out, and Cole had a stinging headache. They had decided to head back into the centre of town and find somewhere to get a long, cool drink.

They were driving along the main street of Road Town when Hedge grabbed Cole's arm.

'Over there, by the post box, I recognise that woman. It's Anna. It's definitely the woman who was with Monica in the hotel back in London. That surely means there must be more of them here on Tortola, maybe even the top man himself.'

Cole slowed the car and pulled over. They sat across the other side of the road and studied Anna. She was standing on the pavement, looking nervously from left to right up and down the street. Her clothing was basic – a plain white shirt and matching skirt, cut just above the knees. She seemed to be waiting for someone. Sure enough, a few moments later, a Toyota pick-up pulled in next to her, the door opened and she jumped in. They couldn't see who the driver was from where they were, but they hoped it was the German.

The Toyota sped off heading west out of Road Town. Cole turned his car round and followed them at a discreet distance. The Toyota headed out of the town and turned off right at a junction about three miles later. Cole followed as the road climbed into the hills. It went straight up at a sharp angle initially before it levelled off. Two miles later the Toyota pulled off left down a dirt track heading for a deserted house. Cole carried on driving past the track and pulled over half a mile further on.

'We travel by foot from here. Grab what you need and let's go.'

Cole took his Glock out from under the seat and stuffed it down the back of his trousers. He pulled his shirt out of his jeans so that it hung loosely around his waist, covering the gun. He then set off back in the direction of the track.

Hedge hesitated for a second as if trying to make a decision. He muttered to himself, 'what the hell,' before he reached into his bag which was in the passenger foot well and picked up his own Glock. It was heavy in his hand and he felt slightly awkward holding it. He was wearing long, thick socks under his jeans and so he pushed the gun into the top of his right sock. It felt secure. He closed the car door and walked briskly after Cole.

They reached the track in a few minutes and walked down it until they were close to the house. There was a small clump of trees near the front of the house and they used these as cover as they approached the front door. It was wooden, faded now and in need of repainting. Cole had clearly decided on a direct approach and he pulled his Glock out and banged it hard on the door.

A few seconds passed and then a male voice shouted from inside. 'Whoever you are, you can fuck off, unless you're looking for trouble.'

The words were in English, but there was a slight, noticeable German accent.

Cole waited for a few more seconds and then he banged on the door again.

There was silence, and so he shouted out his reply. 'So what if we are looking for trouble?'

A few seconds passed. Cole looked tense and a thin layer of sweat had appeared on his forehead. He brushed the moisture away with his left hand, the Glock still held in his right. The door swung open and Hedge immediately recognised the man who called himself Jack.

'What the hell do you think you..........,' the German never finished his sentence. Cole had raised the Glock and shot him square in the forehead. His head appeared to explode in front of them. His eyes briefly registered shock and then he fell backwards. The back of his skull was now spread across the hallway of the house. There were particles of bone and flesh splattered along both sides of the walls.

Hedge looked down at the man, who was now surrounded by a pool of blood. It had all happened so quickly. He could hardly believe what he had just witnessed.

'That was a present from Fuller for you. He always did like the effect of hollowed out bullets,' Cole said as he stepped over the body.

Anna came running through into the hallway to see what all the noise was about. She looked down at the body on the floor, and then her eyes lifted up to stare at Cole. There was pure hatred showing in them. He was only two feet away from her, but before she could say anything he hit her head hard with the back of the Glock. She dropped like a sack of potatoes and lay flat out on the floor.

Cole smiled as he looked across at Hedge.

'See if you can find a kettle in the kitchen. Fill it up and switch it on. I'll have coffee. You can have what you like. Our friend here is just going to have hot water.'

# Chapter Forty One

By the time Anna came round, she was lying on the bed in a room at the back of the house. All of her clothes had been removed, including her underwear. The bed had an old, thin mattress on it, covered by a grey coloured cotton sheet. It was constructed from a metal frame, and it was to this that they had tied Anna.

Hedge had found some rope in a shed just outside the back door, and he had cut off four short lengths. Her hands and feet were tied securely to the metal frame. She looked very vulnerable lying there. Hedge found that he couldn't stop looking at her. He wasn't sure if he felt terrified or slightly aroused. Either way, he wasn't quite sure what Cole had in mind for her.

Cole had been finishing off his drink when he noticed that Anna had woken.

'Great cup of coffee that thanks Hedge, pity you couldn't find any sugar but never mind.'

He threw the mug into a corner of the room where it hit the concrete floor and smashed. His eyes dropped down quickly, and he picked up his Glock. Then he moved over to the bed and sat down next to Anna. He pushed the barrel of the gun into her left eye socket forcing her to move her head to one side. Cole smiled, and then pushed the barrel of the Glock hard against her cheekbone.

Anna said nothing, her eyes stayed fixed on Cole. He moved the barrel down to her throat and pushed forcibly against her skin. She coughed, but other than that she remained silent. Next, Cole started to circle her breasts with the cold surface of the gun. When he got to the centre of each breast he pushed hard against the nipples, and each time Anna made a small exclamation of pain, but still said nothing.

Cole seemed to be enjoying himself, and Hedge carried on watching. He had to force himself to breathe as he was finding this whole experience quite intoxicating, and he hadn't realised he had been holding his breath.

Anna was staring directly at Cole, her breathing was quick and ragged, and each time she inhaled her breasts rose. She must have been cold, or nervous, as her nipples stuck out hard. She looked almost childlike with her pale skin and her wide open, slightly slanted eyes.

Cole now had the barrel of his Glock slowly moving down towards Anna's stomach. He passed this area, and then rested the gun against the mound at the top of her legs. There was a small bush of dark hair here, and Cole circled the end of the barrel around this area. He moved the gun down further between her legs and used the barrel to part the lips of her vagina. Her legs had been tied to the ends of the bed frame, so they were spread widely.

Anna continued to stare fixedly at Cole. Her face was hard as steel and her eyes now looked terrifying. Still she said nothing, but as Cole forced the barrel a little way inside her, she took a small gasp of air and bit her lip.

'Just think how messy it would be if I pulled the trigger right now,' Cole said. He was smiling at her, goading her to respond.

Still she remained silent and just continued to glare at him.

He pushed the barrel further inside her turning it slightly as he did so. She winced and then tried to spit at him, but her mouth was dry and only a small amount of spittle landed on his shirt.

Next, he slowly pulled the gun out from inside her, raised it to his mouth and licked the end of it with his tongue. 'Tasty, but too salty for my liking.'

Cole looked up at Hedge. 'Go and fetch me that kettle. Our friend here is just about ready to talk to me.'

Hedge came back carrying the electric kettle that he had found in the kitchen earlier. He had filled it to the top before boiling it, and it was still near full. The only water taken from it so far had been that used to make Cole his mug of coffee.

Cole took the kettle. He held the spout over Anna's stomach and started to tilt the spout downwards. He stopped before any water came out.

'Now, I need to know what you have done with the money, which companies are you using to hide it, and who is helping you to look after it.'

Anna looked up at him, still with the menacing stare, and she spoke for the first time. 'Go fuck yourself.'

Cole leaned the kettle forward and a stream of hot water poured from the end.

Around ten minutes ago when the kettle had automatically turned itself off, the water would have been at approximately one hundred degrees Celsius – its normal boiling point. In the intervening time, the water had cooled slightly, maybe down to around ninety or ninety five degrees. In the average household, if you run the hot water tap and place your hand under it, you may well be badly scalded. That water is likely to be at around fifty to fifty five degrees. Ninety five is a whole lot hotter than that.

The water landed with a splash in an area from her stomach to her breasts. As it touched Anna's body, red blotches immediately appeared and her skin seemed to burn and shrink. Anna screamed like a wild animal and the noise she made reverberated around the room. There were no houses in the immediate area, as if there were her screams would have certainly been heard. Her shrieking continued as some of the water ran between her legs and scorched that sensitive area. A little of the near boiling water had splashed across the nipple of her left breast and it turned red instantly and appeared to expand and crack painfully. Small fissures had appeared elsewhere on her body as the steaming water continued to do its work. Some of these had started to bleed.

'I need you to talk to me,' said Cole. 'Start by telling me who you work for? Who is your leader? Was it the guy in the hall? Do you work for him?'

'Do I work for him? That's funny. You don't know shit about us, do you scumbag.'

'No but you can enlighten me.'

'You can go to hell,' Anna screamed at him.

Cole lifted the kettle above her again, hesitated a second to see if Anna would react, then started to pour more water onto her body.

The woman suddenly moved like someone possessed. All the muscles of her body stood out as her arms and legs bucked against the ropes holding her. She was screaming at the top of her voice. Such was the strength of her movements that her right arm came free from the rope holding her. Whether the rope had snapped, or she had somehow pulled her hand out from the binding, it wasn't clear. It took Cole by surprise, and he fell back off the bed desperately trying to avoid the remainder of the hot water that was now spilling from the kettle.

Anna meanwhile had reacted instantly, reaching out for the gun that Cole had accidentally dropped at the side of the bed. Her hand took hold of the grip and she turned and faced where Cole was now lying dazed on the floor. She aimed the gun and squeezed the trigger.

A split second earlier Cole had rolled to his left and the bullet ricocheted off the concrete floor. Anna moved the weapon to find Cole once more and prepared to fire. Cole had lunged forward meanwhile and landed heavily on top of her. The gun went off again and there was a loud shattering noise as the bullet hit the bedroom window.

Anna and Cole struggled with each other on the bed, both trying to get hold of the Glock. Anna still had her hand on the grip of the gun and she managed to push it around so that it now pointed straight into Cole's stomach. He was desperately trying to pull her hand away but she was stronger than he imagined. He looked at her lying underneath him, and a smile spread across her face. She tensed her arm in readiness to pull the trigger.

Then, there was a loud boom as a bullet hit flesh, and tore into muscle and bone. The grey sheet covering the bed seemed to turn red in an instant.

Cole's body went limp.

# Chapter Forty Two

When Anna had first managed to get hold of Cole's Glock, Hedge had stood motionless and just watched.

Then he'd reacted. Immediately after she had fired the first shot he was pulling his own gun from out of his sock. He had been worried when he heard the second shot, as Cole was so close to Anna, and he wondered how it had missed him. It was only when Hedge heard the window shatter that he breathed a sigh of relief. He realised he had to act instantly if he wanted to help Cole. So he had raised his Glock, aimed at Anna's head and squeezed the trigger. The distance was only a few feet, but he had missed his intended target. Instead the bullet had hit her in the left shoulder, passed through the muscle and tendon in her upper arm, before crashing through into her chest cavity and causing massive damage to her heart.

Once this vital organ had been effectively destroyed, the joint effect on the body of shock and blood loss caused death very quickly. So it was that it was Anna's blood that was now soaking the sheet on the bed.

Cole lifted himself up off her body and stood next to the bed facing Hedge.

'I guess I should be thanking you for saving my life, but she isn't going to be telling us very much now.'

Hedge didn't know what to say. He didn't know what to think, in fact. He had never killed anyone before. He often wondered what it would be like, but he didn't imagine this. A feeling of numbness overcame him. He felt lifeless. The gun seemed heavy suddenly, and he dropped it on the floor. He wanted to cry but no tears came to his face.

He looked down at Anna's body and surveyed the carnage. There was a gaping hole in the side of her arm and what appeared to be a lot of bruising to her upper body. He couldn't believe all the blood. It was everywhere, soaking through the mattress and dripping on to the floor. Small pieces of flesh and bone fragments were dotted around the wound, and still more blood was pumping out from inside.

Anna's head had turned so that her face was pointing in his direction and her eyes seemed to be looking at him, but there was nothing behind them, they just appeared vacant. Her mouth had opened slightly and a small trickle of blood was dribbling down her jaw.

This wasn't how he imagined that a body would look like after it had been shot. What should it look like? He didn't know. Not this messy maybe. He walked gingerly over to the side of the room and sat down against the wall. He looked at the floor and tried to make sense of how he was feeling, but he couldn't. He felt dizzy. The room appeared to be spinning and his head started to hurt.

Cole came over with a cup of cold water which he had fetched from the kitchen.

'Drink,' he ordered.

Hedge drank the water. Cole patted him fatherly on the shoulder and then left him to be by himself.

Hedge sat for what seemed a long time. He felt confused and lost. He should be pleased that he had helped his friend, but that didn't seem important to him right now.

Eventually he fell into a deep sleep. He hoped he wouldn't wake up from it, as he wasn't sure he would be able to deal with being awake ever again.

Sometime later when he eventually stirred, he found a towel in the bathroom and washed his face in some cold water. He felt a little better.

'You did what you had to do, and you saved my life in the process,' Cole said to him in a matter of fact way.

Cole had cleaned up the room while Hedge had slept. The body, mattress and blanket had all gone. There was a fire in the back garden and what was left of the bedding could be seen still burning. He had also cleaned up the hallway. A shovel was propped against the back door and he could see a fresh looking mound of dirt near the boundary wall.

'Four feet of dirt was all I could manage. Bloody ground is as hard as nails. Still that will keep the bodies away from prying eyes for a reasonable time hopefully,' said Cole.

'Did you see what she had written on her arm?' Hedge's voice wasn't much louder than a whisper.

He had noticed some words tattooed on her upper arm when he'd been surveying the damage to her. Such had been his shock at the time that he hadn't been able to take in what the four words were.

'Live not on evil.' Cole had evidently also noticed the words.

'Not very appropriate is it, considering her line of work.' Hedge looked confused. 'What do you think it means?'

'Not a clue,' said Cole. He sounded like he didn't care either.

Hedge tried to picture the words in his head. It felt somehow like it should tell him something, but nothing came to him.

He looked up from where he was sitting. 'So what do we do now?'

'Now we investigate this.'

Cole was holding a grey, A4 size box file. It had no labels or writing on the outside and was held shut by a small catch. He had found it in the house, following a thorough search. Even though it had taken him a while to clean up and bury the bodies, he had already been through the file to see what it contained. He explained to Hedge that within the file were several bank statements, along with some other interesting correspondence. The bank statements all related to a company called Reviver (BVI) Ltd. The letters were all from the same person whose address was that of a small Trust Company based in Road Town.

'I have been checking some of the bank account numbers from the statements,' said Cole. 'I believe we have definitely found the accounts used by the so-called Palindrome Cult. Look at this one here. Account number 23911932. That seems to be their trademark palindrome type number.'

'It's a bit of a giveaway with a name like Reviver also.' Hedge had now picked up the relevance of the company title.

'Yes indeed, I missed that one. Well spotted. So it's not just the numbers they like to play around with.'

He looked across at Hedge still sitting against the wall. 'Come on then, let's get you out of here.'

The two of them left the house and walked to the car, before driving back into Road Town. The road twisted slowly down to the coast, and in the distance several other islands could be seen nestling together in the calm waters. The deep blue colour of the sea was broken in occasional ripples of glaring white as the sun's reflection bounced off the surface.

They were both lost in their own thoughts as the car headed east towards the island's capital. Cole was thinking about Fuller and the times they had shared together - good memories. Hedge was reliving the moment when he had pulled the trigger of the Glock, sending a burning hot lump of metal into the soft flesh of the girl. He tried to put the memory out of his mind.

Both their thoughts were broken as they came into the busy main town of Tortola.

# Chapter Forty Three

'We need to find the office of the Island Trust Company. I think the address is one of these side roads down here on the right.' Cole was trying to locate the street name, while also concentrating on driving.

Hedge was looking ahead at some advertising boards. 'It looks like it's the next turn according to the sign there'.

Cole indicated and turned off to the right. He pulled up halfway down the street and parked the car in an area of the car park marked as being for visitors. Immediately in front of them was a modern two-storey brick building with a black wooden door. Above this entrance in large gold coloured letters it stated boldly 'The Island Trust Company (BVI) Limited.'

Cole walked up and tried the handle of the door, and it immediately swung open into a small reception area. A young girl, with dark skin and glossy red lips sat at the desk in front of them.

She looked up over the top of her black rimmed glasses. 'Can I help you gentlemen?'

'We're here to see a Mr. Robinson regarding a very urgent matter,' replied Cole.

They were directed to a seating area where they were asked to wait. A few minutes later a bright faced man with a European looking face entered the waiting area. He clearly wasn't a native Virgin Islander, Hedge thought to himself.

'James Robinson at your service,' the man held out his hand to each of them in turn.

They shook hands and followed him through to his office. They both took the glass of water he offered to them - it was another hot and dry day, and then sat down in soft leather chairs.

'How may I help you today?'

'We need to ask you about a company called Reviver,' Cole said directly.

Robinson's expression remained placid, almost as if the name meant nothing to him. Many years of working in the offshore finance business had taught him never to react in a situation like this. Everything must appear to be 'above board'. Confidentiality and trust must be maintained at all times.

'Can I ask the nature of your enquiry please, as you will appreciate that I cannot disclose any information to unauthorised parties?'

Cole stood and walked to the window. He turned to face Robinson. 'I'm going to get straight to the point. We are working on an investigation involving the British government and MI5. This is a very delicate issue and one involving national security.'

'Let me stop you there,' said Robinson, more seriously than before. 'The British government has no jurisdiction here. Our company operates under BVI law and we are duty bound not to disclose client information. We would be happy to cooperate with the British government, but you would have to go through the proper channels.'

Cole walked back to the desk and sat down.

He spoke calmly and without any hint of menace in his voice.

'I must inform you that I also have direct authorisation from the United States Treasury department to undertake a full audit of your operation here. You will be aware that the BVI territory utilises the American dollar as its currency, and so the US Treasury has the ability to override local regulations on this matter. I would like to call a meeting of your company's board of directors within the next twenty four hours to discuss how we should manage the audit process. I have a team of Treasury officials standing by to fly in from Miami before the end of the week to commence the audit. Thank you for your time, we will be in touch again later today.'

With that Cole stood up and headed for the door.

Robinson pushed his chair back, reached forward and buzzed the intercom button on his desk phone.

He spoke calmly. 'Grace, can you bring the Reviver files into my office immediately. Thank you.'

He looked up at Cole. 'Can I offer you a private room so you can review the files? I'll arrange for tea and biscuits also'.

Cole smiled and nodded.

Three hours later they were back in Robinson's office. Cole laid the Reviver files on the desk.

'Well, did you gentlemen find what you were looking for?' Robinson seemed as calm as when they had first met him.

'Indeed we did,' Cole replied. 'Are you aware that the funds being held by this company are the result of extortion and fraud? In fact, one of the victims involved in this crime is the United States ambassador based in London.'

Robinson looked slightly anxious, but said nothing.

'My colleague and I have been tracking the proceeds of this crime across various countries,' Cole continued. 'You should be aware that this is now also a murder enquiry as several people have been killed, including one of my closest friends.'

Robinson swallowed hard, but still said nothing.

'There is in excess of fourteen million dollars being held by Reviver Limited, in various accounts. These accounts are easy to find as they have all been set up with particular account numbers. The largest one is numbered 84566548. Another one is 01177110. Do you get the picture Mr. Robinson? The clue is in the name of the group carrying out these frauds. They refer to themselves as The Palindrome Cult. They like numbers that read the same both ways you see.'

Cole walked over and sat himself on the edge of the desk. He passed a folded sheet of white paper to Robinson.

'We need you to transfer all of the fourteen million dollars to the Bank of England account detailed here. This needs to be completed within the next twenty four hours.'

Cole picked up a gold plated paperweight from the desk. It was an intricately made model of a young elephant. It looked like high quality workmanship.

'Expensive,' Cole said and placed it back down on the desk. He stood up and moved towards the door.

He pulled the door half open and suddenly turned to face Robinson once more. 'By the way, the Reviver files indicated another account with considerable sums of money in it. Strangely though, that account was in the name of Mrs. Pamela Robinson. Does that mean anything to you?'

'Ah yes indeed, that would be my wife's personal account. I am not sure how that one got mixed up in the file of Reviver Limited,' Robinson explained lamely.

'Well just in case, probably best if you transfer the two million dollars from that account to us also. You will know the one I am referring to - the account number is 44055044'

Cole turned and walked out of the office. Hedge followed close behind. He looked at Robinson one last time as he shut the door. The man looked like he was suddenly very worried and he was sure he could see several beads of sweat running slowly down Robinson's forehead.

# Chapter Forty Four

Hedge and Cole had the next day free as their flight back to the UK didn't leave until later the following evening. They needed to keep some spare time to check that the money transfers from Robinson had been made. Cole suggested they take the morning off and visit the Tortola Spa Centre. He had seen it advertised in one of the local newspapers.

Hedge thought that was an excellent idea, and so they headed off in the direction of the Spa.

'We have everything you need here to relax body and mind,' promised the manager when they presented themselves at the front desk.

'There is an exercise pool, a hot spa, a saltwater pool, a sauna and steam rooms.'

Hedge decided he was going to swim some lengths in the exercise pool. It was only fifteen metres long, so he joked that he may have to do quite a few lengths to get any fitness benefit.

Cole laughed at this, and decided to head off for the steam room. They agreed to meet up in an hour for a drink at the 'Juice Bar.'

Hedge swam for thirty minutes. The pool was cold, but the exercise kept his body warm. His mind began to relax, and he concentrated on his breathing as he pushed himself through the water. After this, he decided to take a dip in the saltwater pool. It wasn't really a pool, rather a deep bath. It was circular in shape and the diameter was only about two metres across. A ledge ran around the edge of the pool about half way up the side. This provided somewhere for the users of the pool to sit and relax as they submerged their body. Hedge jumped in and sat on the ledge. There was no one else in the pool, and so he spread his arms and legs apart to maximise the cooling effect of the water.

After a few minutes he pushed himself into the centre of the pool, and submerged his whole body. He held his breath as long as he could, maybe just over a minute he guessed, and then he raised his head slowly up to the surface. As he did so he felt something long and prickly caress his back. He was certain that he was still alone in the small pool, so he was unsure what it could be that had touched him.

He was definitely alone, he was right about that. There was no other person in the pool.

What he wasn't aware of was the marine creature known as a Siphonophore that was sharing his pool. The other name for this kind of organism is a Portuguese Man of War.

It's an incredible thing this creature, as in fact it isn't one creature at all, rather it is a colony of very small entities all binding together for their survival. There are several aspects to the Portuguese Man of War.

Firstly, it has a sail, which is a gas filled sac that floats on the surface of the water, normally the sea of course. Then, it has several other parts which relate to feeding, reproduction and defence. The whole organism is a wonder of nature, but it's in the area of defence that it is truly amazing. Stretching out underneath for what can be up to fifty metres, are a series of venomous tentacles, used primarily to stun other sea dwellers and so enables it to catch food.

The tentacles can cause serious pain to humans and sea swimmers who come into contact with them. It typically leaves them with long, red, whip-like marks across their body. The venom can cause shock, paralysis and even death.

The animal sharing the pool with Hedge was just a small one, but nevertheless the tentacles were well developed and stretched to several metres long.

As Hedge surfaced, he became aware of more sensations on his back and around his legs. He turned to see what was in the pool, but all he could see was a small, clear, plastic-like balloon on the surface of the water. It looked harmless enough, so he picked it up ready to throw out of the pool. As he did so, he suddenly felt stinging sensations all down his lower back and legs. The tentacles of the creature had wrapped themselves around his body and were reacting violently to his inadvertent handling.

He found that his legs were now experiencing acute, needle like pain, and his hands seemed to be going numb. He was struggling to hold his balance. More of the tentacles had started to wrap around his legs, and the intensity of the pain was increasing. He tried to focus his eyes, but everything around him was a blur. His legs gave way under him and he sank further into the pool. His hands reached out towards the side of the pool, but they couldn't grab hold of the edge - his fingers didn't want to respond to his request to tighten.

The pain had now reached unbearable levels, and all down his legs it was as if he was being stung by thousands of bees simultaneously. His head went under the surface of the pool, and he breathed in a lungful of the cold, salty water. The last thing he remembered seeing were dozens of tentacles wrapping around his body, and amongst it all, the concerned face of Cole looking down at him.

Cole had finished in the steam room and had gone looking for his friend. He had succeeded in getting himself lost in the spa complex, and the manager had offered to guide him to the salt water pool, where he believed his colleague was.

They had come into the room just a few moments after Hedge's head had gone under the water.

'Help me get him out,' Cole had shouted to the manager.

They had dragged him out of the pool. The manager had winced and backed away when he saw what was wrapped around Hedge's body. He recovered quickly though, and he picked up two small towels and passed one to Cole. 'Don't touch the tentacles.'

Using the towels to protect their hands, they started to rip the long strands of sinew from Hedge's body and legs.

Hedge was coughing up sea water and breathing erratically. Cole turned him onto his side and started to slap his back to try and help him to breathe properly. The manager finished pulling the tentacles off his body.

Hedge had started to breathe more easily, and he lay still for a while as he tried to recover. Cole looked down at him and was appalled at the damage done to the surface of his skin. He was covered in what appeared to be long, red scratches. He looked like he had been attacked with razor blades.

Cole looked over towards the manager, expecting him to know what to do next. What he saw took him completely by surprise. The manager was standing over Hedge and was unzipping his trousers, and then incredibly he started to urinate all down Hedge's back and legs.

'There's nothing like kicking a man when he's down,' exclaimed Cole.

'This is the best cure for this kind of thing,' the manager replied. 'Urine helps to neutralise the venom.'

He finished urinating, and did up his trousers. 'Now I will go and call for an ambulance. Your friend needs antibiotics and bandaging as soon as possible. The worst part is not yet over, he is still in a critical condition.'

# Chapter Forty Five

For the next two days, Hedge seemed to be in a world of confusion.

The first time he awoke, all he could see was a white painted room, with a plain ceiling above his bed. He had trouble focusing his eyes, and his mouth seemed horribly dry. His head was spinning and he felt like he had come back to consciousness after a very strong anaesthetic.

There was a tube leading in to his arm, but he wasn't sure why. His lower body was covered in a white sheet, but his arms and chest were clearly visible. He looked down at himself and was shocked to see red lines running in all directions across his body. The marks looked to him like he had been repeatedly whipped with thick, abrasive steel wire.

He thought he must be dreaming. It certainly didn't feel real. He tried to lift himself up from the bed, but although his brain sent the right signals to do so, there was no response from his muscles or limbs.

The door to his left opened and a young, brown faced nurse came into the room. She walked over to the bed, checked the level of the fluid in the drip going into his arm, and then scanned his chart hanging on the rail of the bed.

Hedge couldn't make out her features as his vision was too blurred. He tried to speak but no words came out. Was she all part of the dream – he couldn't be sure. His eyelids felt heavy and he started to fall down into that strange place once more.

'Amanda, is that you?' he tried to say. The words just echoed around in his head. His mouth didn't move.

The nurse finished her work and headed for the door. She turned to face him and spoke for a few seconds, but he didn't hear her words.

'Amanda, come back,' he tried to say. Again no sound came from his throat.

His eyelids felt very heavy, and he started to drift into some strange, misty place. There were all kinds of images moving around mysteriously in his head. His mum and dad were there, also his uncle, and some old friends from college. Various people he recognised, and some he didn't. One minute he was getting off the bus on his first day at school, the next he was fighting with a boy in his dormitory. Then he was at a young girl's birthday party, and as that image faded he could see the matron of his old boarding house as she was putting a bandage on his knee after he had injured himself during a cross-country run.

It was all very strange, but also so real.

Suddenly she was there. Amanda. He was just sixteen years old when he had first spoken to her. He was reliving it exactly as it had happened all those years ago. The haziness disappeared and everything came into focus. He remembered every part of it, all the details, as if it was only yesterday.

It was a Sunday afternoon and Mr. Simms, a Science teacher at the college, had called Hedge into his office to ask him to run an errand for him. Alistair Simms got on well with the boys and so Hedge was happy to oblige. He was to go and find Miss Grey, and give her a letter from Simms. Hedge knew who Amanda Grey was. She was a young, incredibly attractive teacher who had recently arrived at the college. She taught English, mainly to the junior boys, and she was Simms's girlfriend.

Like many of the teachers, Miss Grey had a small apartment in the staff lodging house. This area of the college was normally out of bounds for the students, unless you had been specifically asked to go there by another member of staff.

'Find Miss Grey and give her the letter. Don't give it to anyone else. If she is not around, then bring it back to me. Don't leave it with any other member of staff. You'll recognise Amanda as she is very attractive, but then I am sure you already know that. Oh, and one other thing, when you see Amanda ask her if she wants me to come and visit her later today. Tell her I can always make time for her.'

He winked as he said this last line, but Hedge didn't really understand why. Although he was a likeable man, Hedge thought Simms was also a bit of an oddball. He wasn't sure what attracted a girl like Amanda to him, but then there was a lot about relationships he thought he probably needed to learn.

Simms finished issuing his instructions. 'Now off you go, and don't hang around over there. The other staff members don't like you boys loitering around their apartments. I will be here in my room when you get back. Come and let me know if she has any reply to my letter.'

Hedge took the letter from Simms and headed off in the direction of the staff lodgings. He was tempted to open it on the way to see what Simms had written but quickly dismissed the idea. It would be fairly obvious if he had tried to tamper with the letter. Anyway, he thought, it would be full of soppy messages, no doubt and Simms had been quite clear with his instructions, so he thought it best to do as he had been requested.

Hedge walked at a brisk pace and arrived at the staff apartments about ten minutes later. Although he knew who Amanda was, he hadn't spoken to her before, and so he was quite nervous. She was indeed attractive as Simms had said, and she appeared to be a very confident young lady. He guessed she would have been in her mid-twenties, and Simms was probably several years older.

Hedge wasn't used to speaking to female staff members. He was always a little shy in front of women, even more so when they were that much older than he was. For some reason it was worse when they were good looking, but he wasn't quite sure why. As he approached the staff residence, he started to feel very anxious, partly because he didn't want to bump into any of the other teachers and so have to explain why he was here, but mainly because he was worried about speaking directly to Amanda.

He pushed open the main door to the block and headed up to the first floor as Simms has directed. Amanda's room was number twenty two, and he found it quite easily and knocked at the door.

He was tense, and kept looking left and right down the corridor to make sure no one saw him. After a few moments the door opened and Amanda stood in front of him.

'So what have we here then? What a handsome young man you are. What's your name and what can I do for you?'

Hedge felt embarrassed and his face suddenly turned quite hot.

'Mr. Simms has sent me to find you and give you this letter,' he replied hesitantly.

He held out his hand containing the white envelope. 'He wants me to let him know if there is any reply for him.'

'Well that's nice isn't it, but what does it say in the letter? Did he say?

Hedge shook his head. 'Don't know Miss,' he replied.

'Come in for a minute, while I read the letter. Do you want a drink? I have some lemonade if you like.'

Hedge didn't reply. He was too nervous to say anything.

She led him through to the main room in the apartment, and showed him to a small leather chair. While he sat, she opened the envelope and read the letter. He tried not to stare at her but he couldn't help himself. She was very attractive he thought, and had a very good figure. Amanda was wearing tight blue jeans and a red woollen fleece. She wasn't wearing any socks, he noticed, and her toenails were painted bright pink.

She suddenly looked up from reading and caught him staring directly at her backside. He turned his head away quickly and pretended to look at a watercolour picture that was hanging from the wall nearest to him.

A flicker of a smile crossed her lips, and her face had the look of having just caught someone with their hand in the cookie jar.

'He is a sweetie,' she said. 'I bet you didn't know that Alistair was such a romantic man?'

She continued to look across at Hedge as he sat quietly waiting. 'So what else did he say, did he give you any other messages for me.'

Hedge was taken by surprise with the question. He didn't know how to answer. He felt awkward and was sure his face had again turned a deep red colour.

'Oh, so he did say something else then, judging by your embarrassment,' she said. 'Come on, tell me. You don't want to lie to a lady like me, do you?'

Hedge didn't want to hide anything from her, so he blurted it out.

'He umm... he wanted to see you... I think,' he stammered.

'What else did he say?' She smiled at him in such an angelic way that he felt his heart would melt any second.

'He said something about always being able to ... to find time for you.'

Amanda laughed. 'Well I wonder what he means by that. Do you think he wants to come and watch TV with me, or play chess perhaps?'

Hedge's mouth had suddenly started to feel very dry. He had the distinct impression that she was playing some kind of game with him. She took a step closer to where he sat and leaned down towards him.

'Or could he be after something else. What do you think master Hedge?'

Hedge couldn't think. As she leant forward, her fleece had fallen open just a fraction and he could see the top half of her breasts. They looked soft, and her skin appeared smooth and white. He swallowed hard, and tried to move his eyes away from her cleavage, but they didn't respond.

'Well, what do you think it could be?' he heard her saying.

Oh no, he thought to himself.

# Chapter Forty Six

Hedge had no idea how he was supposed to answer that, so he stayed quiet, and just shrugged his shoulders. He had managed to tear his eyes away from her chest at last. He suddenly felt very nervous again, and his stomach was churning, although he wasn't sure why exactly.

Amanda leaned over to where he was sitting and took him gently by the hand. She pulled him up from the chair and put the palms of her hands on each side of his face.

Hedge felt his nervousness rise to a new level. For the first time though he noticed up close just how beautiful Amanda actually was. Her skin was very white, and her eyes were a shiny, light brown colour. She had soft, pale lips, which gave her an air of innocence.

'Have you ever kissed a girl Hedge, I mean really kissed properly?'

He nodded. He had done so many times, although he wasn't sure whether he had done it properly or not.

'I need you to kiss me to see if I am in the mood for Alistair to come and visit me,' she said.

She was a few inches shorter than he was, so she tilted her head up and put her lips against his. She gently opened his mouth with her tongue and pulled his head down hard against hers.

Hedge was surprised by this at first, but after a few moments he began to relax, and was then enjoying the experience. For some reason she tasted of strawberries - maybe she had been eating them at lunch, he thought. Her mouth was soft and moist, and they kissed for a while before she pulled away slowly.

'Yes,' she said, 'that's definitely putting me in the right mood. Let's do some more of that to make sure though.'

She pulled his head towards her once more and kissed him again. This time as they embraced, she pushed her body against his. He was concerned that she might be able to feel how excited he was, so he backed his groin away from hers. She reacted by moving her hands behind him and pulling him back towards her, pressing herself against him even harder as she did so.

Eventually she broke away from him. 'That was very nice, but I still need you to do one more thing for me.'

With that, she quickly undid the buttons on the front of her jeans and pushed them off her waist to reveal her white underwear. Then she took hold of his right hand and pushed it down inside the material until he could feel the bush of hair at the base of her stomach. She moved his hand slowly down further until his fingers were between her legs.

Hedge was horrified, and amazed at the same time. He could feel her soft pubic hair pushing against the palm of his hand and the dampness of his fingers. He couldn't believe how wet her underwear had become – he innocently thought that she must have peed herself with all the excitement. His hand was sliding easily between her legs, and she parted them so that he could feel his way around easier.

She leaned over and whispered in his ear softly. 'Push one of your fingers inside me.'

He moved his hand further down and did as he was asked. His finger felt incredibly soft and warm inside her. He had never experienced anything like this before, and he didn't want it to stop.

She took hold of his hand again and moved it back up to where he had begun.

'Can you feel that there,' she said. 'Move your fingers over it very slowly. Yes like that, that's nice. Press a little harder. Yes, lovely, keep doing that.'

Hedge pushed a little harder on the soft, sensitive area where she had directed him to. He noticed that her breathing had started to get heavier and quicker. Her eyes were also closed.

She whispered again in his ear. 'Keep doing it like that. It feels really nice.'

She moved her lips up towards his and they kissed again, briefly at first but then for longer. He could taste the strawberries on her breath once more, and he could feel her breathing more heavily as he continued to move his fingers.

She kissed him again, harder this time, and as she did so she was moaning gently. Without thinking, he pushed a little harder against the soft skin between her legs. She responded immediately by moving her own hand down and pushing it hard on top of his, so that he was applying even more pressure than before. Her breathing was now very heavy and the noises she was making were becoming louder.

Suddenly, she pushed hard on his hand and let out a long groan, as her whole body seemed to shake for a few seconds, until finally she rested against him. She held on to him for a moment longer, while her breathing slowed down. After a short while she pulled his hand slowly out from her underwear. She moved away from him and started to straighten up her clothes.

'Thank you master Hedge. That was very nice. Just make sure you don't tell anyone about this, it can be our little secret.'

'I won't tell anyone,' he promised.

'Fine,' she said. 'Now, you can go and tell Alistair that you managed to track me down. Tell him I will write him a reply and send it over to him tomorrow. Oh, and tell him I can't see him this afternoon as I'm busy washing my hair.'

She gave him a mischievous smile, kissed him lightly on the forehead, and led him back to the front door.

He said goodbye, and she closed the door. He stood in the corridor, dazed for a moment, not really believing what had just happened to him. Then he headed out of the building and off to find Simms to pass on the message.

As he swaggered back, he really hoped that Alistair Simms would be asking him to run another errand to Amanda sometime soon.

The dream ended, and he was suddenly returned to the present time. The nurse had come in to the room again, and Hedge came slowly back to reality. He still felt groggy, but his vision had improved a little.

'How are you feeling young man,' the nurse said. She had taken hold of his wrist and was checking his pulse rate.

'Thirsty,' he said. His throat felt like sandpaper and he was finding it difficult to swallow.

She passed him a glass of water and he gulped it down in one go.

'Can I have some more, please,' he said.

'You have to take it easy to start with. Your system has had a major shock, and you have been heavily sedated.'

Hedge was suddenly aware of the pain which seemed to come from all over his body. His legs, back, arms and chest all seemed to be on fire.

'Yes, it all seems very painful,' he said to her quietly.

She leaned over and turned a small plastic valve on one of the tubes next to him. Almost instantly he felt a surge of warm fluid running through the veins in his arm. His mind started to drift again, and his head slumped back against the pillow.

'By the way,' she said, 'my name is Constance, not Amanda as you keep on calling me.'

He was on his way down again, down to that deep place where he had just been. He didn't quite hear what she had said, but he heard the name Amanda. Yes, Amanda, it was definitely her he had been dreaming about. He slipped gently back into unconsciousness, but it all seemed so real. It seemed to him like the vision was actually happening, right here, right now.

But it wasn't, he was reliving another time, another place, a time when he had been youthful and innocent. He was back there now, in his mind, and he was about to meet the lovely Amanda for the second time.

It was a memory he would never be able to forget.

# Chapter Forty Seven

It was about four weeks after his first visit to the staff residence that Alistair Simms came across Hedge in the boarding house common room. It was just after lunch on a warm and sunny Saturday. Alistair was due to have refereed a rugby match, but the game had been called off at the last minute. Apparently the other team had so many injured players that they were struggling to get a full squad fit enough to play.

'Master Hedge, my young lady friend tells me she thinks you are cute. Not sure why, but women aren't always easy to understand, are they?'

Hedge wasn't sure if he was expected to reply, so he didn't.

'Right then, I want you to do me a favour. Go and find Miss Grey and see if she wants me to walk her down the park this afternoon. Tell her I'm free as the game has been called off. I need an answer from her as soon as possible, so don't dawdle,' he said.

'I'll be waiting in the television room. If I'm not there, then I will be out the back keeping an eye on the lads playing football. Come and find me as soon as you get back.'

Hedge was naturally apprehensive about meeting Amanda again. He hadn't stopped thinking about her since the experience he had with her a few weeks ago.

With some trepidation therefore, he headed off in the direction of the staff apartments.

He didn't get all the way there though, as Amanda was sitting on a wooden bench near the school pond. She was reading a book, but looked up as Hedge approached.

'Hey, little man, have you come to see me. Do you have another message for me from dear Mr. Simms?'

She jumped up and walked slowly over to where he was standing. She grabbed his hand and pulled him towards a narrow track that led down to the sports field.

'So what does he want you to tell me today,' she asked with a grin. 'He was going to be busy with a rugby match this afternoon.'

'Yes, he was supposed to be the referee, but the game has been abandoned. So he wants to know if you would go for a walk with him instead.'

'Is that it, just a walk?'

Hedge wasn't sure how he was supposed to respond to that, so he kept quiet. He still felt very nervous in her presence.

'Okay,' she said. 'That sounds like fun. What else do you suppose he wants to do?'

Hedge felt like she was teasing him, and it felt a little like déjà-vu. He would give anything to have a repeat performance of their last meeting, but he guessed that was strictly just a one-off. Her actions last time had seriously surprised him, as she had a reputation around the college as a very nice young woman. He had seen her on a few occasions handing out hymn books in chapel on a Sunday morning. That was the image that most people had of Amanda Grey.

'I'm not sure,' he said.

'Well, do you know what his favourite thing is?'

Hedge shook his head.

Amanda had a devilish look in her eye and she pulled him away from the track and stopped behind a large oak tree.

'Lean against the tree,' she commanded.

Hedge stepped back and did as he was told. She looked around to make sure they were alone. There was no one else in sight.

Amanda moved towards him, bent down and carefully unzipped the front of his jeans. She pulled them a short way down and then pushed her hand inside his underpants. Next, she took hold of his penis and squatted down in front of him.

Hedge certainly hadn't expected this, but his body reacted immediately. Her touch was very sensitive, and he stiffened instantly. She started to run her tongue along his erection, slowly from top to bottom, and then she closed her mouth around him.

Hedge couldn't believe the sensations he was feeling. Was this level of excitement even possible? He had played with himself many times before, of course, but nothing had ever felt like this. She ran her closed mouth up and down very slowly at first, and then started to increase the pace. She was quite gentle initially, but then applied more pressure to her lips, especially when she reached the tip each time.

Normally it would take him several minutes to make himself climax, but Amanda's mouth had been working for less than sixty seconds when it happened. He clenched his fists, pushing them against the tree. His eyes closed hard and he suddenly cried out in ecstasy, before ejaculating into her mouth.

She slowed her movements, and then finally pulled away and spat his seed out onto the dry leaves under the tree.

'Hmm, that tasted good. Was it nice for you Master Hedge.'

'Amazing...amazing,' he replied.

He could barely say the words as his breathing was fast and erratic. He was still leaning hard against the tree, but he felt unsteady and quite lightheaded.

'Good,' she said. 'That is Alistair's favourite thing. He loves it when I do that to him. He usually takes a bit longer than you, but then he is much older.'

She laughed, stood up again and helped him to do up his trousers.

'Now, go and tell Alistair that I will be waiting for him by the cricket pavilion. A walk would be very nice.'

Hedge nodded, and started to go.

'Oh, and tell him that you have had the blow job that he was going to get, so he will have to go without today.'

Hedge stopped and stared at her. There was a worried look on his face. He opened his mouth to say something, but she cut him off.

'Actually best not to say that, don't you think?' She laughed mischievously and waved him away. Hedge ran off. As he went he was smiling to himself.

The pain returned with a rush and he awoke from the dream. He came abruptly back to reality and the present day. He pushed himself upright in the bed. It felt like he had been whipped all over his body. His head throbbed and his throat was still very dry. He picked up a glass of water off the small table next to his bed, and took several mouthfuls.

He looked round the room. It was empty apart from his bed, the table, and the metal hanger holding his drip. There was one other item of furniture in the room though, it was a wooden chair next to the door, and sitting in the chair was Cole.

# Chapter Forty Eight

'I hope you're enjoying yourself lazing about in bed all day,' Cole said with a smile.

'Not sure I would call it enjoyment,' replied Hedge. 'How long have I been out for?'

'Nearly three days now. Sounds like you have been having some very interesting dreams. Must be all the painkillers they are pumping into you. By the way, who is Amanda? You keep calling out her name.'

Hedge smiled as he replied. 'She was a teacher I used to know at college, and she was a very nice young lady. She taught me a lot.'

'I'm sure she did. Anyway, while you have been relaxing, I have been busy.'

Just at that moment the nurse came into the room with a bowl of soup and a fresh glass of water. 'Eat and drink young man, you need to keep your strength up.'

'Thank you,' he replied.

Hedge started on the soup while Cole explained what he had been doing over the last three days. Cole told him that the local police had confirmed that someone had deliberately placed the venomous Portuguese man of war in the bath at the spa centre. They had a description of the suspect, but had not been able to track him down yet. Cole believed that they were unlikely to ever find him.

Cole had also been back to visit Robinson, but he had seemingly disappeared. He hadn't turned up for work since they visited his office. Cole had then checked to see if the money had been transferred as they had requested, but it hadn't. In fact, when he investigated further, all the bank accounts being used by the fraudsters had been emptied. The cash had been used to buy what is known as bearer bonds. These bonds had disappeared along with Robinson.

Hedge was looking a bit puzzled at this. 'Bearer Bonds, wow, I didn't think such things were very common these days?'

He had come across the concept of them during his university course. He knew that essentially they are documents which promise to pay money to whoever actually holds the paperwork. So Robinson had converted all the money held in the fraudster's accounts, into a set of bonds that he was now in possession of. The advantage of this to him was that the money could no longer be traced. The disadvantage was that he had to hold onto the bonds, if he lost possession of them, then he effectively lost the money.

These kinds of bonds have been popular in the past with people looking to launder money or evade tax. Governments around the world have been trying to limit their usage, and have been quite effective in doing so. Since the 1980's, the issuing of such bonds in the US has been heavily restricted, mainly due to government regulation.

'Does that mean we have effectively lost any chance of recovering the money?' Hedge sounded deflated.

'Indeed, unless we can track him down. I have some good news though. While you have been dreaming about the lovely Amanda, I have traced our man to a flight from the BVI to Puerto Rico about two days ago. I then made some further enquiries, at no small financial cost I might add, and it seems a Mr. Jameson left these islands carrying a metal brief case. It seems both Robinson and Jameson share the same appearance and physique. A strange coincidence, I don't think. So, when you are ready, we are flying to Puerto Rico.'

'And that won't be for at least two more days,' said the nurse.

She had walked in quietly behind Cole. 'Our young man here still has high levels of venom in his blood stream. If he exerts himself too much at the moment, he will go back into shock.'

'It's also very painful still,' said Hedge with a grimace.

'That will fade hopefully in the next twenty four hours,' said the nurse. 'The pain from the wounds is usually only effective for up to four days. In the meantime I will give you some additional morphine.'

The nurse pulled out a plastic syringe and pushed some clear liquid into the drip bag beside the bed. She opened the valve on the drip a little more.

The effect was almost instant. The pain lifted within seconds. His arms and legs felt limp, and his breathing began to slow down. Hedge felt his thoughts float away, back to that strange place in the depths of his mind.

'Say hello to Amanda for me,' said Cole with a wide smile on his face. 'I'll come back tomorrow and see if you have survived the ordeal with her.'

Hedge tried to respond to this, but the words didn't form. He was drifting into a restful sleep. He heard the name Amanda again as the door of his room was closed, but he didn't know who had said it.

She was there again, that lovely woman who made him into a man. It was the third time he had met her, and the best, although it was such a distant memory now. Yet, strangely, he suddenly found that he could remember every detail.

# Chapter Forty Nine

It was the last week of the summer term at Upperdale, and Hedge was about to have his final encounter with the lovely Amanda.

Her boyfriend, Mr Simms, had already left the college as he had finished all his classes for the year. His students had all sat their exams and were waiting for results. There was nothing more for him to do. So he had headed off for a long holiday at his father's home in Dorset.

It was early evening and Hedge had just finished a game of tennis with a friend. The tennis courts were close to the staff apartments, and as he walked past, Amanda Grey leaned out of a first floor window and shouted to him.

'Master Hedge, did you win your game? Come and see me, I want to hear all about it. I'll meet you by the front door to the apartment block.'

Hedge apologised to his friend for leaving him to walk back alone, and then he ran off to the main entrance to the building.

Amanda came out of the front door just as he arrived. She looked gorgeous as usual, and he noticed that her hair was slightly wet, and that she was wearing her dressing gown. She looked like she had just come out of the shower.

'Did I hear that you had a birthday recently, young Hedge,' she enquired.

'Yes indeed, I was seventeen just a few days ago.'

'I thought so. I had got you a present, but forgot to give it to you. It's only a little something. Come up and get it.'

Hedge looked a bit worried. He didn't want to be seen following Amanda up to her room, especially as she was only wearing a dressing gown.

'Don't worry, no one will see us. Most of the college staff will be away anyhow. Quick, follow me.'

They ran upstairs, Amanda in front with Hedge following. She opened the door to her apartment, and they ducked inside without being seen. She took hold of his hand and pulled him across the room to the door of her bedroom.

'Now Hedge, where did I put that gift for you,' she said playfully.......

Then suddenly, the spell was broken. Cole's face was there in front of him, with a wide grin on it. Hedge awoke with a jump, and his eyes flew open. He looked around his hospital room, but there was no sign of his friend. He lay back on the pillow and tried to resurrect the dream he'd been having about Amanda, but it was no good. The image of her had gone.

He stared at the ceiling for a short while, thinking about how the lovely Amanda had finally made a man of him. But that was so long ago, and he couldn't remember the details. In the end he drifted slowly off to sleep again.

Hedge had several other strange dreams while he was under the influence of the pain relief, some relating to things he could remember, but others just seemed to make no sense at all. Eventually though, he awoke once more, and found himself in the same white hospital room. He felt amazingly refreshed, almost like a spell had been lifted. The pain from the venomous stings had subsided, and his head seemed a lot clearer.

He looked for the glass of water that always seemed to be on the cabinet next to his bed, and guzzled it greedily. There was a bowl of fruit next to the water, and he ate a banana and some green grapes. He realised he was starving hungry. As far as he could remember he had eaten nothing but soup in the last few days.

He shouted out to see if anyone could hear him, and a few moments later the nurse came into the room. She took the drip out of his arm and checked over the red marks on his body.

'They are fading a little. You should find the pain will disappear completely, but you need to take it easy for a while. I'll call your friend and get him to come and pick you up. You need to eat to replenish your energy and make sure you drink plenty of fluids in the next few days.'

She walked off to phone Cole. Hedge sat back against the pillow and took a few deep breaths. He felt pleased to feel relatively normal again, but slightly frustrated that he had been unable to relive that final memory of his favourite school teacher.

# Chapter Fifty

Two days later, Hedge and Cole were checking in to a small, family run hotel in San Juan, the capital town of Puerto Rico. It was only a short flight from Tortola to their new destination, but it had been a noisy and uncomfortable trip on an ageing turboprop passenger aircraft.

Puerto Rico is made up of several islands, with a total population of nearly four million people. The main language is Spanish, as up until 1898 the country had been a colony of Spain. More recently the country has developed into a US territory and its people are effectively treated as American citizens. It is not officially one of the states of the US, although a majority of the population would probably like that to be the case.

On his arrival in San Juan, Cole had used a contact at the British consulate to get in touch with a colleague of his at MI5 in London. This old friend had pulled a few strings in order to convince the director at the UK government listening centre – GCHQ at Cheltenham, to see if they could intercept any traffic from cell phones emanating from the Puerto Rico area of the Caribbean. GCHQ had agreed to help, probably due to a nudge from Downing Street, Cole thought to himself. They did point out though that there would be thousands of voice messages across the airwaves and they needed to narrow down the search.

Cole had come up with an idea. He called the office of the Island Trust Company in the British Virgin Islands. A friendly receptionist had answered. She had been very helpful, advising Cole that Mr. Robinson was not in the office and had not been seen for over a week. She had agreed to his request to be put through to his voicemail. When Robinson's voice came on the line explaining that he was 'not in the office at the moment, so please leave a message', Cole recorded it using his phone handset.

It was this recording that he passed on to the operator at GCHQ.

'This is the voice we are looking for,' he said.

'We'll give it a go,' came back the reply, 'although it may take some time.'

The equipment used at Cheltenham by the British government is state of the art. The centre utilises highly powered super-computers and sophisticated satellite electronics. All of the operatives who are employed at the centre are both well trained and meticulous in their approach. However, the numbers involved in this investigation were staggering. The amount of cell network calls made in the Puerto Rico area in the previous week exceeded one hundred million. The equipment at GCHQ identified over two million different male voices. It further broke down this data to come up with a number of over two hundred thousand separate English male voices.

When the operator called Cole back less than two hours later, he apologised and quoted these numbers as an excuse as to why the search had taken so long.

'We normally find specific voices quite quickly, but our systems are running a little slow at the moment. Apparently something to do with atmospherics, so the boffins told me. Anyway, we have traced the position of the last call made by that particular voice and I am now sending the GPS coordinates to your cell phone.'

'Thanks, you have been very helpful, it's much appreciated,' said Cole.

Just over an hour later, Cole parked their rental car at the end of a narrow road, about three hundred yards short of the coordinates he had been given. He raised a pair of binoculars to his eyes and scanned the horizon. There was a single storey, timber built house at the end of the road. There were no other dwellings in sight. They had driven around twenty miles out from the capital city, and the area was rural and quiet.

It was mid-afternoon, and the heat was building up. They sat in the car, with the air conditioning on full, while they decided what to do. There was a tropical storm due sometime very soon - they were common in this area of the Caribbean. The air felt heavy and they could see dark clouds brewing up on the distant horizon.

Cole was scanning the house again with the binoculars. 'We have movement. Bingo - that seems to be our man. Mr. Jameson looks remarkably like our old friend Mr. Robinson, and he appears to be carrying the goods. He has a metallic looking case in his right hand.'

It wasn't clear where Robinson was going, but he headed for the garage next to the house and opened the swing door. A few seconds later, a dark blue car pulled out of the garage and turned onto the narrow lane. It was coming towards where Cole had parked.

Cole fired up the engine of their vehicle, and moved forward slowly. The distance between the two cars narrowed quickly, and suddenly Robinson spotted the car ahead of him. He must have recognised one or both of them, as he stopped his vehicle instantly, threw open his door, and started to run off across the field next to the road.

Cole and Hedge jumped out of their own vehicle and gave chase. Robinson had reacted quickly and was already some two hundred metres ahead of them. He knew the area well as he had been holed up here for several days now. Each morning he had taken a circular walk in the area, mainly for exercise, but also to see what his surroundings looked like. He realised he wouldn't be able to outrun his two chasers as they were both younger and much fitter than he was. So he needed to lose them.

At the edge of the field, Robinson skipped over a short fence and immediately turned left. He knew he was protected from being seen as the path he was on was surrounded by overgrown bushes. At the end of this path was a narrow, dry river bed. He jumped down into this and turned in a northerly direction. He looked back over his left shoulder, but could see no sign of his pursuers. He ran a further twenty five metres until he came to a circular metal cover on the surface of the river bed. He had walked past this cover two days ago and had been intrigued as to what it was. So he had investigated it. When he had lifted the cover, he found a ladder leading down about three metres to a narrow platform. Below this platform was a pipe about two feet in diameter. He had worked out that this was some kind of storm drain. When the river bed filled with water, these drains would carry away excess water via an underground pipe network.

He lifted the metal cover again, as he had two days ago, and climbed onto the ladder, pulling the cover closed above him. He then moved carefully down the remainder of the ladder and stood silently on the narrow ledge.

He waited a few moments and then he heard voices above him. Standing quietly for a while, he was aware of the presence of the two men somewhere close above him. They were talking, and he heard his name mentioned several times.

They had obviously figured out by now what he had done with the money, but they may not have realised that he now had the bonds in his possession, he thought to himself. He needed to find somewhere to stash his valuable goods, just in case they did find him. He could still hear them talking, so they must be very close. Perhaps they had realised where he had hidden. He needed to secrete the case somewhere right now.

He looked down at the narrow pipe to see if he could see the bottom. There wasn't much light in the storm drain, but he could make out that the pipe was empty of water. In fact, it only went three or four feet down and then it turned a corner so as to run horizontal.

The case was waterproof anyway, so if he had to leave it here and come back for it later, it would be fine. He leaned forward and held the case over the narrow pipe. As he let go of it, it fell to the bottom and landed with a thud.

The noise of the case hitting the pipe seemed loud inside the shaft, but had they picked up the sound from outside? The voices above him had suddenly stopped, and he could hear footsteps close to the metal cover.

'Damn, they must have heard it,' he murmured to himself.

# Chapter Fifty One

The footsteps above moved towards the metal cover, but then they carried on past and seemed to be walking away. They clearly hadn't heard the case landing at the bottom of the shaft. Robinson listened carefully for a few more minutes, but he heard nothing.

He climbed back up the ladder, put his head close to the metal cover, and listened, but there was still no sound of any voices or footsteps. He waited a while longer before he lifted the cover a fraction, and then looked back the way he had come, but could see nothing. He turned around and scanned his eyes down the dry river bed. There in the distance, were two figures, walking away from him. He had given them the slip. They had moved on to look for him elsewhere. He carried on watching the two shapes until they disappeared from sight.

He had panicked when he decided to drop the case down the shaft, but on reflection he decided that the risk of discovery was now very low. His plan was therefore to carefully retrieve the case and then make his way slowly back to his car. He was reluctant to leave several million dollars worth of bearer bonds in this hole in the ground.

He climbed back down the ladder to the ledge and then kneeled down and leaned into the narrow pipe in an attempt to extract the metal case. He couldn't quite reach it, even with his other hand holding firmly onto the bottom rung of the ladder. His fingers were just a few inches away from the handle on the case, so he edged forward a little more. Now he could just about touch the cold metal and he grasped at the handle. As he did so, the hand gripping the ladder slipped and he lost his balance. He fell headfirst into the narrow pipe. His right arm could now reach the case quite easily, but his body had become wedged solid in the pipe. His left arm was stuck between his body and the side of the pipe, so he couldn't move it at all.

He tried to pull himself out, but he realised he was wedged tight, unable to move any part of his body except for his right arm and hand. Everything else was stuck fast. He tried to wriggle his body but that just caused him to fall a couple of inches further into the pipe.

Panic now began to set in. He screamed, but his shouts just echoed down the horizontal part of the pipe. Certainly no one above ground was going to hear him. He realised it was quite dark as his body was preventing any light coming down the pipe from above. He was also feeling slightly flushed, partly caused by the onset of panic, but also because a larger than normal amount of blood was rushing to his head, obviously due to his body being upside down.

He found that he could just about wiggle his legs and feet, but that was of no benefit. Letting go of the case, he placed his right hand on the wall of the pipe. He then tried to push upwards, but he didn't move. He was jammed tightly in this narrow pipe, and without help, he was not going to be able to get himself out.

He shouted several times, again and again, in case anyone could hear him. Eventually his throat was sore and he gave up. He listened carefully to see if he could hear anything, but realised that the only people he had seen in this area in the last few days were his two pursuers. It was ironic that he hadn't wanted them to find him, but now, given his dire predicament, he desperately wanted to be discovered by the two men.

All around him was silence. He held his breath a moment to improve his hearing, but still there was no sound from outside.

Then, yes, there was something, a gentle tap, tap, tap from the surface. It was slowly getting louder. Yes he could hear it clearer now. He shouted again, and then held his breath once more while he listened for that noise. The gentle tapping was now even louder than before.

But, it wasn't a noise he wanted to hear.

With a feeling of horror, he suddenly realised what it was.

It had started to rain.

It wasn't just normal rain though, the tropical storm had arrived. The volume of water starting to fall from the sky was increasing rapidly.

The drainage system he was now stuck in was a relatively simple feat of engineering. The idea was that surplus surface water is carried away quickly towards the coast, where it washes into the sea. That's fine if the drains are kept well maintained, but many of them had become blocked by debris over time. This particular drain was no exception, so instead of water flowing away from where Robinson was trapped, water collecting from the local area had started to flow back towards him. So it was that twenty minutes after falling in the pipe, there was several inches of water at the bottom of the drain, and the level was rising fast.

It was rising up towards him.

# Chapter Fifty Two

Robinson was now very scared.

He was stuck and couldn't move, apart from his right arm. He tried in desperation to push some of the water back down the horizontal part of the pipe, but this was a complete waste of time. The water kept coming towards him.

The top of his head was now only six inches from the rising water level. He started to scream again, louder and more desperate than before.

He didn't want to drown, stuck in a concrete pipe, in this remote area of the Caribbean. As he thought about it, his situation seemed both terrifying and ridiculous. How had he been so stupid as to fall into a pipe, several metres underground? What an idiot he was.

He didn't want to die. Not here. Not like this.

The heavy rain continued to fall, and the water was rising still. He could now feel it touching the top of his head. He struggled again trying to free himself from the pipe, but it was hopeless. He couldn't move at all. Now the water was close to his eye level. As it covered his eyes, he shut them firmly. The water was cold and muddy, and he could feel small pieces of grit trapped inside his eyelids. He desperately wanted to rub his eyes to clear them, but he couldn't due to his restricted arm movements.

The water was continuing to rise and had now reached the level of his nostrils. It had smelt slightly of rotting vegetation, but this odour was suddenly cut off as the air in his nasal passage was replaced with cold water. It was now streaming down his nose and into the back of his mouth. He tried to spit the water out from his mouth, but more of it kept finding its way in. The water hitting the back of his throat was making him cough violently, but he managed to briefly get this under control while he tried desperately to breathe slowly out of his mouth.

Realisation suddenly dawned on him. The water was rising and it wasn't going to cease. Even if the rain stopped, there would still be plenty of water flowing into the drainage system. He was going to drown, and so he had very little time left to live. There were none of the flashbacks over his life that people often talk about as death approaches, just blind panic.

He tried to move his body again, but it proved to be impossible. He was at the mercy of the rising water.

I must try to focus, he thought to himself. Don't panic, keep calm. Try to avoid swallowing the water.

As much as he tried not to though, he couldn't help it. Water was running into his mouth and down his throat. He couldn't breathe as he realised his airway was full of the cold, dirty water. An attempt to cough the water out failed, more just came into his mouth.

His lungs were now desperate for air, and he breathed in deeply. No air was available though, so all he inhaled was the muddy water. He instantly gagged and tried to push the water out. As he did so, his lungs sent out a desperate signal for oxygen, and his body automatically tried to suck in a huge gulp of air.

But still there was no air. It was just water that his lungs found. They sucked in again, and even more of the ice cold liquid was drawn into his chest. His lungs were now full of water and he finally ran out of breathable oxygen. His heart went into a painful cardiac arrest. His brain started to shut down, at the same time as his lungs burst under the pressure of the water.

The last thing he remembered seeing was the metal case, just inches away from his eyes. He reached for it one last time, but his vision went black and his right hand went limp.

Then all his worries were over.

# Chapter Fifty Three

Cole and Hedge walked down the river bed for about half a mile, but saw no sign of Robinson. They eventually gave up and started to head back the way they had come. It was now raining, quite heavily, so they decided to look for some shelter.

As they retraced their footsteps, Hedge had been trying to figure out how Robinson had managed to give them the slip. There were no obvious hiding places or escape routes, and the land here was quite flat, so they would have spotted anyone running away from the river bed.

He was still pondering this, when he noticed just ahead of him, laying upside down with its four feet pointing skywards, was a dead rat. He walked over to it. It wasn't the unfortunate animal that he was interested in though, and he brushed it aside with this rain soaked shoe. What he was actually focused on was the metal cover next to where the rat had been lying. The drain cover had attracted various items of debris, because the rain water was flowing into it through small holes in its surface. The dead rat and the other debris had accumulated as they had been unable to pass through into the drain.

Hedge leaned down and hooked the fingers of his right hand around a handle on the drain cover. As he lifted it, water rushed into the gap he had now created. Looking down into the cavity, he was interested in where the water ended up. What he saw though was not what he expected to see. There was a ladder leading to a small ledge. Below that, he could see a pool of water which had risen to the level of the ledge, and rather oddly, sticking out from the middle of the water was a pair of human feet, clad in some rather elegant leather shoes. The feet were completely still.

'Cole, I think you had better come over here and have a look at this.'

Cole sauntered across and leaned his head over the side.

'Yes very nice. I bet they cost at least two hundred dollars for a pair like that. Pity, but they don't look like my size.'

Hedge shook his head. It wasn't the reaction he had been expecting.

'Could be our man don't you think?'

Cole nodded. He was still smirking from his previous comical remark.

They realised that the drain was quickly filling up with water, so if they wanted to find out who the feet belonged to, then they would have to act quickly.

Cole jumped in, descended the ladder and took hold near the top of the protruding legs. He tried to pull the body out of the water, but it seemed to be wedged in tight. Hedge had also climbed down the ladder and was trying to help. They grabbed hold of one foot each and pulled. Eventually the body came free and they lifted it out of the pipe. It wasn't easy as they were getting drenched by the dirty water flowing into the drain from the open cover above.

They finally managed to haul the body onto the platform at the foot of the ladder. The first thing they noticed was that it was indeed their man. Robinson lay there looking up at them with a terrified expression fixed on his face. Next, and somewhat obviously, they realised that he was dead. He had clearly drowned in the drainage pipe somehow. Finally, and most surprising of all, was that his right hand was clenched firmly around the handle of a metal case.

The drain was filling up with water fast. It had already reached the foot of the ladder.

'See if you can get the case out of his hand, and then we need to get out of here. This river bed will be under several feet of water very soon,' said Cole.

Hedge prised open Robinsons fingers and grabbed the handle of the case. He then followed Cole up the ladder. They left Robinson's body where it was. It would be too difficult for them to try and take it with them.

They made their way back to the car. Hedge laid the case on the back seat next to their sodden jackets. Cole switched the wipers on full and drove slowly back to San Juan. The rainfall from the tropical storm was making driving difficult, and twice they had to detour around flooded sections of highway.

Back at their hotel, they changed out of their wet clothes and met in Cole's room to examine the case. It had two matching locks either side of the handle. Cole produced a small, hard plastic tool, which looked a little like a fishing hook, and he used this to open the locking mechanism.

Inside the case they found what they had expected. It contained just over sixteen million dollars worth of Bearer Bonds. The documents were printed on several identical pieces of paper, each for various amounts. The paper was thick, and heavily embossed. There were silver coloured seals at the bottom right hand corner of each of the bonds, and printed underneath the seal was the name of the bank that would redeem the bonds. It was an American bank, and the address was in Manhattan.

'Looks like me and you are going to New York,' said Cole.

# Chapter Fifty Four

The American Airlines Boeing 727 touched down at George Bush International Airport just after ten o'clock in the morning. They had decided to fly to New York via Houston, at the request of Hedge. He hadn't been back to his parent's home town since their funeral, which he realised with a little surprise, was eighteen years ago.

Cole had agreed to his request for the detour as he felt more relaxed now that they had recovered the bonds. They had met with a British government representative in San Juan who was going to arrange transportation of the contents of the case to New York under the protection of diplomatic immunity. This means they would pass through US security and customs without attracting attention. They would collect the bonds from the British Embassy once they arrived in New York. Their own baggage was also still under diplomatic immunity, although they decided to ditch the Glock's back in Puerto Rico. Cole felt it was unwise to keep hold of them any longer, and they shouldn't be needed again.

Hedge had lost touch with his Texan relatives over the years, so he wasn't planning to call in on anyone in particular. All he really wanted to do was to visit the graves of his parents, if he could find the churchyard. He had called his uncle back in London to get the location details. So as they came out of the terminal building they hailed a nearby taxi and set off.

The airport was to the north of the city, whereas the address of the church they were seeking was in a place called Friendswood, which was to the South-East of the centre of Houston. They explained what they were looking for, and the driver seemed confident he knew where he was going. The traffic was heavy, and the going was slow, but forty five minutes later they found themselves outside a grey stone church in a quiet neighbourhood. Hedge recognised the building from the last time he was here, all those years ago.

They paid off the taxi and took the phone number of the company, for the return ride. Cole patted Hedge on the back and said he was heading off for a diner he had spotted on the corner of the street. Hedge said he would join him there in a while. He then headed into the churchyard and began the search for the graves of his parents.

It didn't take him long, as the graveyard didn't cover a large area. He found the two headstones side by side. When he had initially attended the burial, he hadn't seen the final headstones as they had not been finished. They looked very smart, he thought to himself. The stone was white marble, with the names and date of death engraved carefully in each.

He reached into his jacket pocket and took out his wallet. He opened it up and pulled out a small photograph. He always carried that picture to remind him what his mum and dad had looked like. He stared at it closely now, and then looked up again at the headstones. His parents were here, he thought, buried in the ground just in front of him. He hadn't seen or spoken to them since he was ten years old. It was so sad that they were taken from him when he was such a young boy. He remembered again how alone he had felt at the time. No child should have to go through that pain, he thought to himself.

He closed his eyes to see if he could still remember them in his mind. As he stood there, he tried to block everything out and just focus on his inner memories. He was concentrating so hard that he didn't hear the footsteps approach behind him.

'Excuse me sir, can I ask you what you are doing? What is your interest in these two people,' said a young female voice.

Hedge opened his eyes and turned his head towards where the question had come from. Standing just behind him was a young woman, maybe around twenty years old, he guessed. She was dressed casually in blue jeans and a plain white shirt. In her hand was a small bunch of wild flowers.

'Hello,' he said, 'I am just paying my respects to my parents. This is where they are buried.'

She looked back at him, and her bright blue eyes seemed to grow larger as she spoke. 'You must be mistaken. The two graves in front of you belong to my mother and father. My mother died just after I was born. I was an only child.'

The two of them stood staring at each other. There was no one else in the churchyard and so all around them was very quiet. The only noise was the occasional rustle of leaves as a gentle wind moved the branches of the nearby sycamore trees.

Hedge roused himself from his silence and moved a step closer to the girl. 'My name is Tom Millar, and the graves here are definitely those of my parents. The names match, as does the date when they died. I don't see how they can be your parents as I have never had a sister. Let me ask you a question. Do you know how the man and woman buried here died?'

The girl lifted her chin up with a look of defiance. 'I should know, as they are definitely my parents. They were killed in a car crash in England. I was told that my dad died instantly at the scene, but my mother managed to hold on for a few days. I'm glad she did, as I was born three days after the crash, somewhat prematurely though.'

Hedge took a pace back as if he had been hit in the chest with a sledgehammer. He stared at the girl. Yes, there was something he saw in her that he recognised. Was it the eyes, or the defiant look, he wasn't sure. It was probably a combination of both things.

'It seems unbelievable, it can't be, but it doesn't make any sense.' Hedge said the words slowly as he was struggling to understand exactly what he was hearing.

'I was told that there were some complications with my mother immediately after the crash. She was flown back to the States for emergency treatment. She must have been pregnant. I never knew. No one told me about you. That doesn't sound right. Why wasn't I told about you?'

'I don't know,' the girl replied. 'My name is Maddie by the way, Maddie Millar. I always knew about my parents of course, but I never knew about having a brother. I was adopted and raised by my father's brother, my uncle. Yours too I guess. He and his wife couldn't have children of their own, so they were glad when I came along. They didn't have much to do with the rest of the family, they kept themselves to themselves.'

'But why didn't they tell you that you had a brother?'

'I guess they didn't want to risk losing me to some other part of the family. Who did you live with after our parent's death?'

'I stayed with mum's brother and his family in London. They obviously didn't know about you either. They attended the service for mum and dad back in England, but they didn't come over to the funeral here in Houston.'

Maddie had a puzzled look. She was deep in thought. 'I know I was born very premature, but my new family here must have pulled a lot of strings to keep my birth quiet. They must have been desperately worried about having to give me up.'

They stood there awkwardly for a little longer, both looking at each other but not knowing what to say. Then, with a broad smile on her face, Maddie stepped forward and hugged her big brother. They held each other for a moment. Hedge felt overcome with emotion. He suddenly didn't feel quite so alone in the world.

The embrace was awkward and they moved away from each other. It was going to take some time to get used to having a sister, Hedge thought.

He explained that he had a friend with him, and so they both headed off towards the diner, where they found Cole seated in a quiet corner tucking into a large double cheeseburger.

He looked over at them as they headed towards where he sat. 'Didn't take you long to find yourself a pretty young lady friend then,' he said with a grin.

'Always the funny guy, aren't you Cole. Well I have some news for you. I found more than a friend, this young lady here is Maddie, my sister no less.'

Cole stopped eating and looked up at the young woman in front of him. She was attractive, and he noticed that she had a very determined look about her, like someone who always got their own way. Her light coloured hair was long, and it dropped to below her shoulders, covering the top of her white shirt. She smiled at him.

'Well I can see the resemblance, although she's much better looking than her brother,' said Cole.

They ordered some coffee, and a pot of hot tea for Hedge, and they sat together talking. Hedge explained to Cole how he had managed to have a sister. He then told his sister how he and Cole had ended up in Houston, and about their journey from the UK, to Dubai, and then to the Virgin Islands. He left out some of the detail as it all seemed a bit unreal to him still. It was an awkward conversation, as they were both studying him as he spoke. He fiddled with the sugar bowl as he spoke, before finally placing it on the left side of the table, next to the tomato ketchup.

Hedge was keen to meet Maddie's adopted parents, but she advised against it. She explained that they had always been wary of the wider family, and were not likely to be friendly towards him. Instead, they agreed to meet up in New York in a few days time. She thought perhaps that one day soon he would be able to come back to Houston and meet her family. He agreed with that approach. They chatted a little more, exchanged phone numbers, and then they said goodbye to each other. Hedge and Cole called a taxi and headed back to the airport, leaving Maddie at the church yard. She gave her new brother a final hug and said she would see him soon.

It was cold and windy when they arrived in New York. They went straight to the airport information desk and asked the helpful lady on duty if she could assist by booking two rooms at a centrally located hotel. They then took a taxi from the airport and went directly to the hotel, which was two blocks down from Times Square.

During the taxi ride Cole had been talking about what they needed to do while they were here.

'Obviously we need to sort out these bearer bonds and recover the money. We can get on with that tomorrow. I am hoping that will not be too problematic. We will collect the case from the British embassy first thing in the morning.'

Hedge thought it would be okay. Although he was a financial person, he didn't have much experience of these particular types of bonds. It seemed quite risky carrying a case containing sixteen million dollars around the streets of New York without any security. The sooner tomorrow was over, the better, he thought.

Cole continued his briefing. 'We also have another matter to deal with. I have received some information from London relating to the man who deposited the money in the accounts in Dubai. I asked them to investigate further to see what they could come up with. It turns out he has an apartment here in New York. So we are going to track him down to see if he knows anything about what happened to Angel.'

'Do you have a name and address?' Hedge wasn't sure if he wanted anything to do with this particular person, and secretly hoped he wouldn't be asked to go along to meet him.

'Yes, we are going to pay him a visit this evening.'

'Wonderful,' said Hedge sarcastically.

Somehow he just knew that this would not be a social call.

# Chapter Fifty Five

Several hours later, they were in a different taxi, pulling up outside a tall, residential tower block in Manhattan.

'This is the address you gave me,' said the driver.

Cole paid the fare, and they walked into the lobby of the apartment block. They headed for the elevator, and Cole selected the twelfth floor. It only took a few seconds before the doors slid open.

'We're looking for room 1215,' said Cole.

They headed down the brightly lit corridor and quickly found the room.

Cole knocked on the door sharply. 'It's maintenance please.' He tried to speak with an American accent, and it didn't sound too bad. 'We need to check your heating.'

The door opened, and a dark skinned man stood in front of them wearing just a towel around his waist. He looked Arabic, and he had a well-groomed beard. His expression was one of annoyance, like he had been disturbed in the middle of something important.

'The heating is fine. So why don't you piss off,' he said abruptly.

Cole shoved the door open, and the man in front of him was momentarily pushed off balance. He quickly recovered, but it was too late as Cole had hit him square on the chin with his bunched right hand. It was like a hammer blow and the man went straight down on to the carpeted floor.

There was a naked girl lying on the bed. She was petite, and looked a pale white colour, almost like she had never been outdoors. She also seemed very young. As soon as Cole had landed his punch she started screaming.

'Shut up and get dressed. You've got thirty seconds to get out of here,' Cole shouted at her.

She jumped off the bed and gathered her clothes up. She didn't bother to put any of them on, but just ran out of the door. Cole slammed it shut behind her.

The dark skinned man had managed to stand back up and Cole now faced him.

'So Tariq, we meet at last.'

The man didn't deny the name, so Cole assumed he had found the right person.

'What do you want from me?' Tariq was rubbing his chin and starting to look a little nervous.

Cole pulled a small piece of card from out of his pocket. On it was a picture of Angel, dressed in military fatigues. He was laughing and pointing at something in the distance. He looked younger than Hedge had remembered him, so it was clearly an old photo.

'This is a picture of a friend of mine called Angel. It was taken in happier times. What happened to him? I need you to tell me.'

'I have no idea. I have never seen this man before.' Tariq looked nervous.

Cole knew he was lying, but he needed more before he was sure.

'I believe he died from a shark attack, judging by the bite marks on his arm. I received a message from someone saying that he had been fishing. Not a very funny joke really. You do own a boat, don't you Tariq?'

'I don't know what you are talking about. I do have a boat, but I haven't been on it for a long time, and I haven't been to Dubai in over a year.'

'Who said anything about Dubai?'

Tariq looked confused. He suddenly realised that he had stupidly given himself away. A look of terror crossed his face. He turned as if to get away, but Cole grabbed him by the neck and pushed him to the floor.

There was a table next to where Cole was standing. Laying on it was a large, lined writing pad along with a silver ballpoint pen. At the far end of the table was a pile of opened mail and next to this was an old fashioned letter opener with a blue marble handle. Cole leaned over and picked this up. He turned it in his hand and looked at its blade. It wasn't sharp – it didn't need to be as it was only used for opening envelopes, but it was long. The metal blade was approximately seven inches in length.

Tariq was still on the floor. He was kneeling and trying to get back to his feet. He couldn't because Cole had placed his foot on the back of one of Tariq's legs, and was bearing down on it with all his weight. Cole flicked the end of the letter opener at the towel that was covering Tariq's backside. This caused his rear end to be fully exposed and it was then that Cole swung his arm and thrust the letter opener directly at Tariq's anus. The seven inches of steel disappeared completely into the small hole, before Cole let go of the implement.

Hedge couldn't believe what he had just seen. It all seemed quite surreal. Here was a dark skinned, Arabic looking man kneeling on the floor in front of him, with the blue handle of the letter opener sticking straight out of the hole in his backside.

Tariq immediately screamed in agony. The sound was like an animal being caught in a trap. It was a high pitched noise and it echoed around the room. He lurched forward and lay on his stomach moaning with the pain emanating from his backside. Trying to reach the source of the pain, his hands fumbled with the handle of the letter opener. He attempted to pull the metal out of his backside, but the angle was wrong and all he achieved was to make the pain much worse. Bright red blood was seeping from the wound. Tariq was now banging his hands repeatedly on the floor in an attempt to alleviate the pain. His screams had turned into a gentle moan and he curled himself up on the floor in an attempt to find a position that made the agony more bearable.

'Help me,' he said. 'I have money, I can pay you. It wasn't me who killed your friend. Help me, please.'

Cole knelt down next to the pathetic figure of Tariq. 'I will help you. I will make the pain go away. I don't want your money, but I do need you to tell me what happened to Angel.'

'It wasn't me. I tried to stop them. He died quickly though. I promise you.'

Cole said nothing. He just knelt next to the man lying on the floor and watched the torment in his face. Tariq's breathing was fast and erratic, and he had his eyes screwed up tightly trying to blot out the pain. Cole took hold of the blue handle and moved it slowly backwards and forwards a few times. Tariq screamed again and his eyelids opened wide. Then with a sudden movement, Cole pulled the blade out. The blood started flowing quicker now, and it was making a small stain on the light brown carpet.

'Well I'm glad Angel died quickly. It only seems fair to give you the same treatment.'

Cole picked up Tariq and held him under one arm. Cole wasn't an especially big man, but he was strong for his size. He walked over to one of the apartment windows and pulled the catch at the side to open it. He pushed it wide and the cold night air rushed in to the room. Tariq tried to free himself from his tormentor's grip, but he was still in shock from the wound to his rear end, and so in his weakened state it was not difficult for Cole to keep hold of him. Cole leaned out of the window and held the Arab in mid air for a few seconds. Tariq tried to grab hold of the window frame but he was too slow. Cole let go and dropped Tariq into the dark void. There was a long uninterrupted scream as he fell, and then silence.

Cole pulled the window shut and looked over at Hedge. 'Let's get out of here.'

Hedge nodded. It seemed like a good idea. He wasn't sure, but he thought he had just seen someone thrown out of a twelfth storey window. Or was it all a dream? He looked at the blade that Cole had dropped on the floor. It was covered in blood and there was a bright crimson stain on the carpet. He pinched himself hard. It hurt. It wasn't a dream!

# Chapter Fifty Six

The following morning they collected the bearer bonds as arranged from the embassy, and then took them in the metal case to the bank that was listed as the originator on the documents. This part of the operation had the potential to be very complicated as they had in their possession some sixteen million dollars worth of financial assets.

As it happened, the visit turned out to be very straightforward. They were taken in to see one of the branch supervisors, who took the bearer bonds away for inspection. On his return, he simply informed them that all was in order and asked them where they wanted the money deposited. Cole gave him the name and number of an account held at the Bank of England in Threadneedle Street, London. The supervisor informed them that the money would be transferred to that account within the next three working days. There was no other business to attend to, so they thanked him for his assistance and left the building.

'Who is the owner of the account where they have transferred the money to?' Hedge was pleased that the bank visit had gone so well. But, he wasn't sure if he was really that interested in the answer. In fact, he was looking forward to this whole adventure concluding as soon as possible. He was keen to catch up with his new found sister, who was arriving in New York the following day.

'It's a government agency account. I have told them to expect some funds in the next few days. I am sure the men who have been blackmailed will be pleased to get their money back,' said Cole.

'And I'll be pleased to get back to London.'

The following day Hedge met Maddie at the airport. She looked radiant when he saw her. She was wearing blue jeans again, obviously a Texas tradition, he thought. She looked good in them though. It was clear to him that she must have had an outdoor lifestyle as she looked tanned and fit. Her hair hung loose, and the wind was blowing it all over the place. It suited her though and he thought it made her look wild and alive. They hugged for a moment, much less awkwardly than when they had done so a few days earlier, and then they hopped in a taxi and headed downtown.

'Let's get something to eat and we can catch up on things,' he suggested.

'That sounds great. I have some big news to tell you when we get there.'

They found a small delicatessen not far from Central Park, and ordered some drinks and sandwiches. Hedge was in such a good mood, he didn't even complain when the waitress returned with iced tea, instead of his hot English version.

'Well, what kind of tea do you expect, this is America!' Maddie had a big grin on her face.

'What's your big news then?'

Hedge picked up a paper serviette and wiped the surface of the table. It was already clean, so there was no noticeable improvement. He felt more relaxed though. He glanced across at Maddie as she replied.

'I'm coming back to London with you. I have told my uncle that I'm having an extended holiday, and that I am off to visit England. I hope that's okay?'

'That's more than okay, it's fantastic. You can stay with me. We can get to know each other a bit better. We have a lot of catching up to do.'

They chatted for the rest of the afternoon. Maddie told him about her life in Houston. The family she had grown up with were great, even if they were very private people. She had done well in school, and enjoyed playing sports, but her real passion was horses. She had learned to ride from an early age, and spent most of her free time out riding. It was strange, she said, not knowing her mum and dad, and that saddened her. She was a bit confused initially about finding out that she had a big brother, but had now got used to the idea. She told him that she hadn't exactly told the truth to her aunt and uncle, telling them she was going to London to stay with a cousin. They had been a bit worried at first, but they realised she was all grown up now and so could not restrict her activities any more.

Hedge listened intently as she talked. Then he told her about how he had grown up with the family in London, and how he had spent several years at a boarding school. He left out the part about all the bullying. They chatted together easily, like a couple of old friends.

Finally he said that they should go and find Cole as they needed to arrange the flights back to London.

'Okay, let's go.' Maddie jumped up from her seat.

They left the deli and started walking in the direction of the hotel.

After a few minutes, Maddie stopped on the pavement and lifted her head to the sky. Hedge turned and told her to get a move on, but she just stood still for a few seconds. He looked at her briefly and thought she had a faraway look in her eyes, like she was concentrating on something. He told her again to hurry up. She blinked, turned her head towards him and nodded. Then she carried on walking as if nothing had happened.

'Hedge, can we go back to England by ship. I have never been on the sea. It would be fun. We would have some time together as well.'

'I don't know about that. Cole wants to get back pretty quickly I think.'

'Let's see if we can persuade him,' she said hopefully.

As it happened, Cole thought it was an excellent idea. He and Maddie went straight to the hotel reception to arrange the tickets for the three of them. There was a fast cruise ship leaving the next day, and they managed to get bookings on it.

As they were walking away from the front desk, an elderly man with white, wispy hair was talking to a receptionist. Maddie had accidentally overheard his conversation. He was taking his granddaughter to England to visit relatives.

'Can you arrange a flight for us, maybe tomorrow?' he was asking.

Maddie turned around, and touched the old man on the arm. 'We were going to fly back to England tomorrow, but did you know that there is a ship that leaves around the same time? It would be a great experience for your granddaughter.'

The man turned to face her. His expression flashed a harsh look of 'you should mind your own business.' But then suddenly he stared at her more intently, and his face softened. Maddie was still gently holding his arm. Her voice was low, almost a whisper.

'Take the ship, it will be fun.'

The man's face was slightly wrinkled with age. He continued to stare at Maddie for a few moments. Then he smiled, and turned back to the receptionist.

'Is there any chance that you can get two more tickets on that ship?'

The next morning Hedge, Maddie and Cole arranged to meet for their final breakfast in New York. The three of them chatted as they ate pancakes with maple syrup, and drank freshly squeezed apple juice. Maddie told them how she was looking forward to seeing London. Cole was actually looking forward to the cruise.

'I may get drunk a few times during the voyage,' he said.'

They all laughed.

There was a large flat screen television on the wall near their table and the newsreader was busy listing the main stories of the day.

'The president was hosting a Chinese trade delegation at the White House. Pressure groups were hoping that human rights would also be on the agenda. The Dow Jones index had hit an eighteen month low as poor trade data was affecting business confidence. The US central bank was due to comment on this later in the day. A British Airways Airbus bound for London had its take off aborted when a fire broke out in one of its engines. A major disaster had been narrowly avoided due mainly to the skill of the pilot, but nevertheless five passengers had been fatally injured in the crash. Now for the weather....'

The three of them were still deep in conversation, and so they weren't paying much attention to these headlines, apart from Maddie. She just happened to catch the last item being read out by the news reader. She looked up at the television for a split second, nodded her head slowly to herself, and then returned to the discussion with the other two.

# Chapter Fifty Seven

At eight o'clock they hailed a taxi and made the twenty minute journey down to the port. They quickly cleared through customs, and boarded the liner.

The boat left New York harbour at exactly ten o'clock that morning. Its heading was due east, directly into the bright morning sun.

Hedge took his bag down to his cabin and then he came out onto the viewing deck to experience the departure. The skyline of the city started to fade into the distance as the boat cleared the last piece of headland that made up the iconic port.

There were many other passengers lining the railings on this side of the ship, all staring back at the city. As he stood and watched, a hand gently grabbed hold of his arm. He looked round to see the smiling face of his newly discovered sister.

'Everything okay Maddie? Did you find your cabin?'

'Yes, all is well. The cabin is lovely. Very posh,' she replied.

She held onto his arm as they stood side by side, looking back at the towering buildings as they faded from sight. He had mixed feelings about leaving New York. It was likely to be the end of the adventure. It was an experience he hadn't asked to be involved in, and it had caused him a lot of anxiety. A few weeks ago he was a normal person, going about his own business. It had been a turbulent year for him. He had been prosecuted for a simple mistake and served time in prison as a result of that. That was after he had been a local hero for a while following the incident in the cafe. It all seemed a bit surreal. Then there was this mission. Getting caught up with Cole and Fuller was something of a shock to him. Fuller's death had been tragic, as had Angel's. He didn't know them very well, but he still grieved for them, and for their families. Finally, he had discovered a sister he didn't realise he even had.

Yes, a very strange year, he thought.

The wind was blowing a little stronger now, and the temperature seemed to have dropped a few degrees. Several of the watching people started to walk off, maybe to get a late breakfast, or to go and unpack their belongings. A large gathering remained though, still looking back towards the city.

Hedge ran his eyes down the side of the boat, taking in the various passengers who lined the railings. Immediately in front of him were an elderly couple. They had been waving frantically at someone in the crowd on the dockside as the boat had pulled away. Perhaps they had been visiting a son or daughter in New York, he thought.

Next to the elderly couple were a group of young women, all chatting together excitedly. They seemed to have American accents, so he assumed they were heading to England for a holiday maybe. Beyond this group was a young couple, standing close together arm in arm as they looked out over the calm seas. What looked like a proud grandfather and his granddaughter were next in line, huddled closely together to keep out the chilly wind.

The old man turned and smiled when he saw Hedge looking in his direction. Then his face took on a more serious slant. He had spotted Maddie. He took hold of his granddaughter's hand and started walking towards them.

He stood directly in front of Maddie. 'Excuse me young lady, but I need to talk to you.'

# Chapter Fifty Eight

'How did you know?' the elderly man said.

He was still standing in front of Maddie, but with a quizzical look on his face.

Maddie just shook her head at him, as if to say she had no idea what he could be talking about.

'How did you know?' he repeated. 'I saw the news this morning. That could have been us. You convinced me to change our travel plans.'

Maddie shrugged her shoulders. 'You are mistaken. I only suggested that you might have more fun travelling to England by boat. It was nothing more than that. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the trip.'

With that, she turned and walked briskly back towards her cabin.

It was a short while later that Hedge and his sister were sitting in the main restaurant having just eaten a very pleasant lunch. He wanted to ask her about the incident on deck earlier.

'That white haired old man, what was he asking you about?

Maddie raised her eyebrows. 'I'm not sure.'

'I haven't known you for very long, but I can spot a lie when I see it. There's something you're not telling me.'

'It's nothing, don't worry about it.'

'So it is something then?'

'Maybe, but it's personal.'

'And I'm your brother.'

Maddie laughed. 'I guess you are.'

She leaned over towards him and squeezed his hand. Then she spoke in a low, soft voice.

'I can't really explain it. I get this voice in my head occasionally, and it speaks to me. Sometimes what it says doesn't make any sense, but I listen anyway. It happens only now and again, maybe just two or three times a year.'

'What does it sound like, this voice?

She didn't respond to this straight away, as if she was thinking about how to phrase an answer.

'It's a woman's voice, soft and gentle.' She hesitated a moment, then she looked directly at him as she continued. 'Don't you dare laugh, but I think it's the voice of my mother. She's been talking to me ever since I was a little girl. She used to tell me that I wasn't alone, she said this quite often, and I assumed she was telling me that she was there for me. Now I don't think she was telling me that, I think she was talking about you.'

'Maybe she was. What else has she said to you in the past?'

Maddie thought for a while. 'Well mainly insignificant stuff, but there has been some very notable events also. Like yesterday, when she told me not to travel by air.'

Hedge looked puzzled, so she explained about the report on the news earlier that morning.

'That's amazing.' Hedge seemed quite shocked.

They called over a waiter and ordered some more drinks, along with two banana flavoured muffins. They sat quietly until the waiter returned with their order, genuinely comfortable in each other's company.

'Do you want to tell me about any other occurrences in the past, when the voice has said something to you.'

He could sense Maddie didn't really like talking about it, so he gave her time to see if she would respond. Eventually she started talking again.

'It was near the beginning of summer, about three years ago, and I was walking back from college one afternoon. I was alone, and almost home when she spoke to me.'

'Don't let him go.'

'That's all she said, nothing more. I had no idea what it meant, so I ignored it. Then the next morning as I was brushing my teeth, the voice repeated the same words.'

'Don't let him go.'

'It made no sense to me, until my uncle told me at breakfast that his brother Jake was going camping in the mountains with some friends next weekend. Was it connected to that, I wasn't sure. So still I ignored the voice. Then on the morning of the planned camping trip, I awoke early, dripping with sweat, like I had some kind of fever. The voice said the same words again.'

'Don't let him go.'

'I quickly got dressed and walked down the road, to where my uncle's brother lived. He had a pickup parked in his driveway, and he was loading it up for the trip. We chatted for a couple of minutes – I always got on well with Jake, he was very easy going. Then suddenly, I just blurted out that he should cancel his trip. He laughed, and said he couldn't and that he had been planning it for ages. I tried to convince him but he just told me to go home and annoy someone else. I didn't have any good reason to convince him not to go, and I certainly couldn't tell him about the voice.'

Hedge was listening intently. 'So what happened, did he go?'

'No. I couldn't think what to do, and then I saw a hunting knife sticking out of the side pocket of a bag in the back of the pickup. I grabbed it and before he could stop me I slashed one of the rear tyres of his vehicle. He was livid, but I just ran off home.'

'So he didn't go then?'

'No. He couldn't get a replacement vehicle, and his friends had already left. They went off without him. When my uncle heard about it later, he stormed into my room in a rage and asked what the hell I thought I was doing. I didn't have an explanation, so he beat me as a punishment.'

'He beat you!' Hedge looked horrified.

'Yes, he kept a collection of wooden walking sticks in the garage. He took one from the rack, dragged me by the hair into the back yard and beat me several times on the back. I wasn't allowed to return to school until the wounds had healed, and the red marks had disappeared.'

Hedge looked shocked. 'How often did he do this?'

'It didn't happen very frequently. Just as well, because it would hurt badly for days after. You have to understand, he was a good man but he did have some old fashioned ideas about raising children. He believed that a good thrashing was the way to teach a child a lesson.'

'I'd like to give him a good hiding someday.'

Maddie ignored this and carried on with the story.

'Anyway, everything changed several days later, when the local news reported that three men had been attacked by a bear whilst sleeping in the forest. The reporter told how one man had died after having his head partially crushed in the animals jaw. Another of the campers had been mauled so badly that surgeons had to later amputate his left arm. The third man escaped relatively unscathed and had managed to raise the alarm.'

Hedge thought he saw a flicker of a smile on her lips as she said this last line.

'What?'

'Sorry, it's not funny really, but when the full story came out a few weeks later, it turns out that the uninjured guy only called for help the following day. Apparently he had believed that the bear was resting very close to where he had managed to find a secure hiding spot. It was what he described as a disgusting and vile smell in the vicinity that led him to think the bear was nearby. So he had sat motionless for over twenty hours, believing if he moved the bear would discover him.'

'So what happened? How did he get away?'

'The bear was nowhere near him. It was probably miles away by then. The awful smell it turns out was due to him being so terrified that he had soiled himself, but he didn't realise it.'

They both laughed, but Hedge stopped himself after a few seconds, as he wanted to hear the end of her story.

'My uncle sat at home and listened to the news about the three men - Jakes friends. When the reporter finished, he slowly turned his head towards me. He was deep in thought, and he was shaking his head very slowly from side to side. He tried to say something to me, but no words came out of his mouth. I just smiled at him. A few minutes later he stood up and went out to the garage, and gathering up all his sticks, he laid them in a heap on the back garden. It took a little while, but eventually he managed to set fire to the bundle with his cigarette lighter.'

'What did he say when he came back indoors?'

'He said nothing. Not that day, or the next. In fact, it has never been mentioned again. That was the last time he ever beat me too, he has never laid a finger on me since then. The only time he ever referred to it, was when I overheard him telling a neighbour that he thought I was psychotic. He meant psychic of course.'

They chatted together for a little longer and then he headed out on deck for some fresh air. The ship was pushing its way through the sea, still heading east. They would be back in London in a few days time.

Hedge wasn't sure what would happen to him then, but he let the thought drift away, and turned his attention back to the swell of the sea and the spray of the water.

# Chapter Fifty Nine

As he stood and surveyed the horizon, Hedge became aware of someone standing next to him. He turned and saw a well-dressed elderly man holding onto the handrail, also looking out to sea. He recognised the man as the person who had approached his sister earlier.

'My name is Don Jackson. My granddaughter's name is Amelia. We are both deeply indebted to your lady friend.'

'My sister you mean.'

'Your sister?' The old man nodded to himself.

He didn't look towards Hedge as he continued to talk. 'I don't understand how she did it, but your sister may very well have saved my granddaughter from serious injury, or even death. We can't hope to ever repay her, but I would like to offer a reward.'

'That's not...,' began Hedge.

'I know what you are going to say young man, but I am determined to do this. I am very wealthy. I couldn't live with myself if this kind act went unrewarded. I was thinking of ten thousand dollars. It's the least I can offer.'

'That's very kind, but that's really not necessary.'

'Listen young man. I am the Senior Medical Officer at a major New York state hospital. I can easily afford to pay you such a small amount. Please accept it on behalf of your sister. It would mean a lot to me.'

Hedge stood silent for a moment. It was clearly not going to be easy to refuse the generous reward being offered. He smiled to himself as he thought of a way out of the dilemma.

'We can't accept your money Mr Jackson, but if you really want to be generous, then there is something your hospital can do for a friend of mine.'

'And what would that be?'

Hedge explained what he was thinking and what would be involved. Don Jackson nodded several times as he listened carefully.

'Yes, I think we can help. I have a particular expert in that field on the hospital staff. I'll get our admin people onto it straight away and they can make the arrangements. Let me have the address details as soon as possible.'

Hedge smiled, and held out his hand to Mr Jackson. 'Then we have ourselves a deal.'

It was just three weeks later that an international courier rang the doorbell at a fifth storey apartment on the outskirts of the city of Dubai. A young lady of Arabic appearance opened the door.

'I have a special delivery for Asha Mahmoud and I need a signature please,' said the courier.

'What is in the package?' said Asha, as she leaned forward and signed the delivery sheet.

'No idea,' replied the courier. He came across slightly abrupt.

Asha took the package and closed the door. She studied the outside of the thick, brown envelope, but apart from some print saying it originated in the United States, there was no indication of what it was. Asha opened it carefully and emptied the contents onto the surface of the dining table. The first thing she saw was two first class return tickets to New York. Then she noticed a bundle of medical forms, all written in English, referring to a hospital called St. Josephs. Lastly she saw the typed letter, addressed to her, from the Senior Medical Officer of the hospital.

She started to read.

Dear Asha

I have made arrangements for you to travel to the United States with a view to receiving specialist treatment for any current medical conditions that you may be suffering from. I do not wish to go into the nature of any potential treatment in this letter due to the personal nature of such details. However, St. Josephs is a world class hospital with an excellent record of medical success in a number of areas.

Please note that there is no financial limit being placed on this offer, and so you will not be liable for any charges that result from treatment, now or in the future. I sincerely hope that you will take advantage of this opportunity, and I have enclosed two return air tickets in anticipation of you doing so.

Please contact the hospital on the below number to make further arrangements.

Yours Sincerely

Don Jackson

P.S. – Your friend Mr. Hedge sends his best regards.

Asha's husband came into the room just as she had finished reading the letter. He had a look of shock on his face, and he rushed over towards her.

She was crying so much that he could only assume it was very bad news indeed.

# Chapter Sixty

When Hedge and Cole eventually arrived back in London, they were immediately summoned to Downing Street. After going through the usual security procedures, they were shown in to a side room where the Prime Minister was waiting.

'Very sorry to hear about Fuller,' he said. He had a genuine look of concern on his face. He was well aware of the risks these people took on behalf of their country, and he was a family man himself, and so understood that somewhere people will be grieving badly.

'Please sit gentleman. Let's get some tea brewing and then you can give me a full debrief,' he continued.

They waited for the refreshments to arrive, and then Cole began the story. He tried to be as succinct as possible, but occasionally had to provide more detail when the Prime Minister asked specific questions. Finally Cole fell silent.

The Prime Minister nodded his approval. 'I would say a job well done, but sadly not without some cost.' He was clearly referring to the loss of human life.

'It seems that most of the members of this so called Palindrome Cult have been eliminated then, but with one significant exception?' he asked, but it was said more as a statement rather than a question that required an answer.

'So what about the leader, it would appear that he is still at large?'

He looked across at Cole, this time expecting a response.

Cole stiffened. 'We have no leads for this person, but I will liaise with my contacts at MI5 and see what more we can do to track him down.'

The PM seemed unmoved by this, but after a few seconds of silence he went on to say that he was pleased that all the money has been recovered and so any potentially embarrassing situations had been avoided.

Hedge and Cole were given the final task of ensuring all the money was returned to the rightful owners, with the compliments of the British Government. The most important of the victims was of course the American Ambassador. They were to visit him at his London residence at the earliest opportunity.

A short while later the two of them sat together having a drink in a cocktail bar not far from Downing Street, as they reviewed the list of victims. The bank accounts in the British Virgin Islands had held some fourteen million US dollars. Add to that the two million that was in Robinson's wife's account, made a total of sixteen million dollars. At current exchange rates that equated to around eleven million British pounds. The next step was to reconcile this to the initial list they had been given at the outset of the mission.

The American Ambassador had been defrauded out of just over two million pounds. The British Foreign Secretary had lost one and a half million. Four other members of the British government had lost close to one million pounds each. Three leading businessmen in the City of London had been cheated out of around three and a half million pounds between them. That made up the total of eleven million pounds.

They finished their lunch. Cole laid some notes on the table and grabbed his coat.

'Let's go and give some money away,' he said, as he headed for the door.

# Chapter Sixty One

They drove through London in silence. Cole sat in the front of the car alongside the driver. Hedge sat in the back with the Director of MI5. Hedge felt nervous. Despite all that he had been through in the last few weeks, he was not used to this kind of life and these types of people.

The car pulled up outside the residence of the US Ambassador. They got out and walked towards the gate. Two black uniformed men moved out from under the shade of a sycamore tree and approached the group. They both carried automatic rifles. The Director of MI5 moved forward and offered up his security pass.

'Please go right ahead sir,' said one of the uniformed men.

Hedge and Cole followed the Director up the pathway. The front door opened before they reached it and another uniformed man let them in. He closed the door firmly behind them.

'Wait here please,' the man said, and walked through to another room.

They waited in silence for around two minutes. The hallway was painted white and several old pictures hung on the walls. They seemed to be mainly scenes of London from a bygone age. There was a shelf along one side of the hallway and it was full of photographs. Hedge stooped over to look at the nearest one. It was a picture of the Ambassador himself, photographed sitting in a grassy field with a dog sat next to him. Hedge knew little about dogs, but he suspected this was some kind of Spaniel. Amazingly the dog was looking directly at the camera.

'Well trained dog,' Hedge muttered to himself.

'Lincoln. My King Charles Spaniel,' said the Ambassador from close behind Hedge.

'Apologies, I didn't mean to snoop.' Hedge was startled by the sudden presence of the American Ambassador.

'No problem. Snoop all you like. I owe you a debt of gratitude, so I am led to believe. I understand you helped to recover two million dollars that was stolen from me. For that I am very grateful to you. I hear you have had quite an ordeal. You are to be congratulated on a job well done.'

Hedge wasn't quite sure how to respond. 'Thank you, sir,' he said quietly.

'Don't give me that sir bullshit, Robert Mallam at your service. You can call me Bob.' Mallam held out his hand.

The Ambassador was then introduced to the other two, while Hedge continued to examine the photos. He looked up just in time to see the Ambassador's wife walking towards him.

'So you are the famous Hedge,' she said as she held out her hand to him. 'My name is Mary so please call me by that name. I do hate all the normal formalities.' She smiled kindly at him.

He shook her hand gently. 'I am very pleased to meet you Mary.'

She looked at the shelf to see the photo that Hedge had been looking at. He looked down again at the silver framed photograph. The girl in the picture was wearing a white dress and she had a red ribbon in her hair. She looked to be about ten years old, he guessed. Then he looked again. There was something vaguely familiar about the face. He couldn't quite place it. The girl had a white complexion, with a high cheekbone. Her eyes were very slightly slanted, almost Chinese but not quite, possibly East European.

'I see you have been looking at our family photographs. This one is my daughter. It was taken just before her eleventh birthday. You know she was fascinated with letters and numbers when she was a little girl. She used to make up all kinds of names for her friends - real and imaginary!'

The Ambassadors wife looked at Hedge with a knowing smile. 'I can see what you are thinking. She doesn't look much like me. She was adopted by us when she was only two years old. We loved her like our own, of course.'

'She's very pretty,' said Hedge. 'Where is she now? Does she live here in London?'

Hedge thought he saw a dark shadow pass across the woman's eyes.

She swallowed, but managed to smile. 'To be honest we are not sure. She went off track a little after she dropped out of university. She used to hang around with some radical thinking people after she left home to go off and complete her degree. She travelled around Europe quite a lot. We get the occasional letter from her, but she never gives us a forwarding address so we are unable to reply.'

'That's a pity.' Hedge sounded sympathetic.

'Yes a great pity, she was such a lovely girl. She had a wonderful imagination and was very motivated. She always said she wanted to be rich one day. The letters from her seem to be less and less frequent nowadays. They used to be every two or three weeks. The last one was about ten weeks ago. Now they seem to have dried up completely.'

The Ambassadors wife moved her hand as if to wipe a tear from her eye, and then continued. 'She loved writing and was fascinated with words, you know. She was so pleased the day she came home from school and announced to us that both her names are what are known as a Palindrome. Our family name is Mallam, you see. It spells the same forwards and backwards. Her first name did the same. She used to make up phrases like that too. Her favourite line was "live not on evil"'.

She hesitated for a moment and she bit down on her bottom lip as if to steady her voice.

'Yes, we all miss Anna,' she said softly.

# Chapter Sixty Two

Hedge recapped the conversation with the Ambassadors wife to Cole in the taxi as they drove away from the US Ambassador's residence.

'Bloody hell,' said Cole, and he whistled softly to indicate the seriousness of what he had just heard. 'So you have killed the daughter of the US Ambassador to the United Kingdom. Nice one. You will probably get a knighthood for services in respect of Anglo-American relations.'

Cole smirked at his own joke, but Hedge turned his face and sat quietly looking out of the window. It was a dark night and the stars above London were blocked out by a thick layer of cloud. It was raining, only lightly, but just enough to make the scenery look bleak. That's how Hedge felt – bleak. Yes, they had retrieved the money. Yes, they had eliminated the group calling itself the Palindrome Cult. Unfortunately he didn't feel good. He had been responsible for the death of several people. It sat hard with him, particularly the young girl who liked numbers and words, and just wanted to be rich. Didn't everyone?

'Never mind, you'll get over it,' said Cole. 'Anyway, regarding the identity of the girl, we had best keep that to ourselves. Our friends at MI5 will know, of course, but the Prime Minister won't. He would be quite angry if he found out who the girl Anna really was.'

'I guess he would,' said Hedge. 'He seems to have had a close relationship with the Ambassador.'

'Indeed, he did. The ambassador's family were regular guests at functions at Number Ten. It seems the PM had been especially interested in the ambassador's daughter. Apparently, she was very good at arranging certain things for specific tastes.'

Cole had a wide grin on his face as he spoke. He had emphasised the words 'specific tastes', which Hedge assumed had a certain sexual connotation.

'And how exactly would you know that?' exclaimed Hedge.

The taxi they were travelling in had stopped at a red traffic light. Cole nodded his head and pointed towards a building overlooking the road junction. High up on the wall was a set of surveillance cameras, all pointing in different directions.

'We are all being watched,' said Cole. 'The police watch us, the government monitors the police, and the security services keep an eye on our enemies. So someone has to watch the government. You'd be amazed what these people get up to, even the PM., sometimes in his own office, so I've heard.'

Cole managed to keep his face straight as he spoke.

Hedge looked across at him and shook his head. 'Unbelievable.'

'We now believe that Anna first got the idea of her high level blackmail operation from a liaison she set up for the PM. She must have found it so easy, enticing older men into her web. She couldn't blackmail him, of course, as she didn't want to incriminate herself in any way. So she used other high-class girls to do the dirty work for her. The first victim was her father. She knew he was wealthy, and a "ladies" man. Easy money, so she thought.'

Cole had stopped talking, but there was something bothering Hedge.

'But...'

'But what?' Cole interrupted his sentence.

'Well, MI5 must have known who Anna was. They would be aware that she was the Ambassador's daughter. They were tracking her after all.' Hedge looked quizzical.

'Who do you think runs the country?'

'The government.' Hedge thought that was obvious.

'Try again,' responded Cole. 'Remember those people watching us, watching all of us. Well it may suit them to have certain politicians and high-profile individuals under their influence. It's amazing what some people will do for you when you have something shitty over them. Anna gave them a lot of shit!'

'Are you suggesting that the security services allowed Anna to run her extortion racket?' Hedge had a bemused look on his face.

'Well, that's one for you to ponder. Think about it like this. Did you kill a foreign diplomat's daughter, or have you terminated an important MI5 agent? Sweet dreams my young friend.'

Hedge swallowed hard and then turned his head back towards the window. He carried on looking out as London sped past.

He suddenly felt quite sick.

# Epilogue

It was almost a year later when Hedge received a letter with a Dubai postmark stamped on the front. As he opened it and took out the folded, handwritten page, a photograph fell out onto the floor. He picked it up and looked at the smiling face of the lady in the picture. She looked Arabic, with well-defined features. In her arms she held a small bundle, wrapped in a white blanket. The face of the baby was only just visible through the material cloaked around its head. He read the letter, smiled to himself, and then placed both the letter and the photograph back in the envelope.

The Ambassadors wife never heard from her daughter again. She was deeply saddened by this, but had known that day would come. They had grown apart so much in recent years, and Anna had never really got on well with Robert, her father. A new administration had come into power in the US, and they had appointed their own choice of Ambassador to the United Kingdom. So Robert Mallam and his wife had moved back to Washington, and he decided to retire from politics. He invested the money that was recovered for him in various companies listed on the New York stock exchange. They didn't do particularly well, and he lost some of his investments. It didn't trouble him too much as he was a very wealthy man.

Maddie loved London from the very first moment she arrived there. She decided to stay on for a year or two and found a job working at the British Museum. She redecorated the spare bedroom in Hedge's house, and lodged with him. She made many friends in London. After a few months she lost some of her Texan accent, and even managed to pick up a bit of Cockney rhyming slang. Her mother still spoke to her occasionally, although she never again heard the voice say 'you are not alone'.

The following spring, a Treasury minister presented a bill in parliament which proposed to reduce the security services budget by almost two percent. This was all part of the austerity measures designed to save the country money. Most of the government members of parliament supported the idea, but several high ranking ministers voted against the proposal. Political observers thought this was strange as these people were normally in favour of such spending cuts. The bill was defeated and never came into law.

Hedge was pleased to have remembered his encounters with the lovely Amanda. The dreams he had experienced while he was in hospital in the BVI seemed so realistic, such was the detail that he recalled. But would he complete the sequence, as the final encounter with Amanda had been missing? He hoped he would, sometime soon!

Hedge hadn't seen or heard from Cole ever since they said goodbye in the London taxi.

They will meet again though.

###

# THE END

... but there's another ending ... see next page...

# Books by Kevin Bradley

The Palindrome Cult

(Hedge & Cole / Book 1)

"A cracking good read, fast and furious, unputdownable"

The Terminate Code

(Hedge & Cole / Book 2)

"A fantastic story, breathtaking and full of intrigue, unforgettable"

The Transamerica Cell

(Hedge & Cole / Book 3)

"A gripping, tense thriller, you'll be on the edge of your seat"

The Cuba Cage

(Hedge & Cole / Book 4)

"A shockingly good novel, full of terror and suspense"

Bully Boys

(Hedge & Cole / Supplement)

"A brutal and sadistic account of boarding school life"

The Hedge & Cole Thriller Series (Books 1-4)

(Hedge & Cole / The Collection)

"A 4 book set of gripping, action adventure novels"

Review

If you liked this book, then please go to your online book retailer and leave it a good review.

I send you my best wishes.

Kevin Bradley

# About the Author

This is the first book in the Hedge & Cole series by this compelling writer.

Kevin Bradley lives in England, and has travelled all over the world. He is passionate about storytelling, and brings many of his own personal observations and adventures into his novels.

The author spent much of his early life either at boarding school or living on military bases. The frequently exciting, and often cruel experiences from this period are clearly reflected in the increasingly popular Hedge & Cole characters.

Before turning to writing, Kevin had a successful business career and, as well as an Honours Degree in Social Economics, he also holds an MBA from the Edinburgh Business School.

When not writing he enjoys mountain biking, and marathon running.

The following are the opening two chapters of the 2nd book in the Hedge & Cole series.

The Terminate Code by Kevin Bradley

Chapter One

The Iraqi rebel was holding a long-bladed, steel knife.

He had managed to sneak up behind Oxley without being noticed. Suddenly, he pulled his arm back and lunged forward, aiming the knife at the white man's head.

Oxley heard a noise, and turned just in time. He dropped his rifle, and managed to deflect the evil looking blade with his forearm. The Arab pulled his arm back again though, readying himself for a second lunge. Oxley was momentarily blinded, as the sun's rays reflected off the razor sharp blade. Then, in a split second, his mind started to focus. He had to disable his attacker. Just one direct hit from the knife was likely to be lethal.

Oxley fumbled for his weapon, but he couldn't reach it. The dark, skinned man was bearing down on him again. He was wearing a dirty, black turban, and his face was screwed up in anger. He wore no shirt, so his chest was bare. The man's left nipple had been pierced, and a large, silver ring had been pushed into the hole under the skin.

With his right hand, Oxley made a grab for the ring, and pulled as hard as he could. It came away from the Iraqi's chest with ease, tearing a long piece of skin off at the same time.

The Arab screamed in pain. The knife was forgotten about for an instant, as his eyes stared in horror at the blood pouring from the hole in his chest. A large flap of skin was hanging loose, and his nipple had completely detached itself.

That fraction of a second was all the time Oxley needed. He grabbed his rifle, casually aimed it towards his assailant, and fired. The bullet entered the man's jaw from underneath, and the top of his head disintegrated instantly. Oxley pushed the body to one side, took a few deep breaths, and turned his attention back to where it had been a few moments ago.

Oxley ducked down just in time. The bullets were close. Several whistled by a few inches over his head, but most of them thumped into the wall in front of him. He was sweating, partly because it was a hot day, but also due to the adrenalin. He was on his own and pinned down. More bullets slammed into the wall.

He was desperate for a drink. His throat was parched. He had long since used up his last water, so he would have to wait. Where were the rest of his team? They should have been here half an hour ago. He was running out of time.

More bullets whistled overhead. This was not an unfamiliar situation for him, so he remained calm. He also knew his weapons. What he was being shot at with were RPK light machine guns. He could tell by the sound they made. They were Russian designed, first developed in the 1950's. They were effective to a point, but in the hands of the Iraqi rebels shooting at him, not very accurate.

He checked over the M16 rifle he had with him. Not his usual weapon of choice, but all that had been available for this mission. He looked to make sure it was still set to single shot, and took a deep breath. Jumping up straight, he rested his arm on the top of the wall, and levelled his rifle at the house where the rebels were shooting from.

Holding his breath, his eyes were flashing from left to right. He could feel his heart pounding. This was a dangerous time. If several of the men opposing him shot at once he would be in danger. The same would be true if they had any high quality snipers in the area.

His eyes were still searching. His heart was beating loudly in his ears. He was still holding his breath. Then there was a movement, the second floor window. A dark shape, followed by a glint of light as the sun's rays bounced off the barrel of the machine gun. Then there was a flash from the muzzle of the RPK.

Oxley fired once, aiming at the flash. There was a loud shrieking noise, and the man went down. It was the last thing Oxley saw before he ducked down below the safety of the wall once more.

He nodded to himself. It would have been disappointing if he'd have missed that shot. It was only about fifty yards. The guy didn't really stand a chance. Advanced weapons instruction and marksmanship was available to all members of Her Majesty's intelligence services, and Oxley hadn't missed a single lesson.

But right now Agent Oxley was bored.

The trip to Baghdad had been several weeks ago, and with nothing better to think about, he had been reliving the excitement of it.

For the last three days though, he had been watching people go in and out of the elevator on the fifth floor of the Mayfair Hotel. Admittedly, they were not just ordinary men and women. No, these were high ranking politicians and businessmen, coming to meet with the Chancellor of the Exchequer – the man who effectively controls the finances of the United Kingdom.

The Chancellor had good reasons to hold his meetings here rather than his official government residence of number 11 Downing Street. He wanted to keep the meetings secret, and certainly didn't want the press to be snooping around.

Agent Oxley had been assigned to protection duties for as long as the meetings went on. He was hoping it wouldn't be for much longer. It was all pretty mundane. His previous assignment had been as part of a team which had travelled into the heart of Baghdad to extract a well-known BBC correspondent. The man had been kidnapped by a group of relatively unknown Iraqi militants. The operation had been over very quickly, and with complete success, although there had been that brief exchange of gunfire. Luckily, there had been no casualties on the British side.

Oxley had enjoyed the experience immensely.

His train of thought was interrupted as he heard a gentle 'ping' noise, and the lift door opened.

A short man, with a light brown complexion walked slowly out of the elevator. He wore a long, black coat, well pressed dark trousers, and elegant, black shoes. Agent Oxley noticed that he had a bad limp. He must have injured his left leg at some point in time.

'Can I help you sir?' Oxley tried to sound authoritative.

'Good morning. Yes, actually you can. I'm looking for room 412. I believe it's just down this corridor?'

The man with the limp pointed with his left hand. His right hand was holding a small tablet computer device. Oxley studied the man, taking in as much detail as he could. He had been trained to do that, of course. He thought the man was probably about sixty years old, his hands were slightly wrinkled, and there was some greyness starting to appear in his hair.

'I'm afraid you have the wrong floor,' said Oxley. This is the fifth floor, you need to go one down.'

The man with the limp opened the tablet as he replied. 'I'm sure it says on my reservation that the room is on the fifth floor. Let me see.'

'I can assure you that you need to go down sir, the room you want is ...'

'Yes, here it is, take a look, Agent Oxley.'

Oxley was taken aback.

For one thing, how did this complete stranger know his name? But, more worrying to him was that on the computer tablet in front of him appeared to be a video of his wife and children.

'What the hell is this exactly?' Oxley had sensed danger and quickly drawn his pistol- a Walther P99. Then he had taken a step back from the older man.

'My name is Solomon. What you are looking at here is a live feed from a camera in your home. You will recognise your wife Elizabeth and your two daughters, Holly and Sarah. Out of camera shot we also have your mother, who I understand always visits your home on a Wednesday. In addition, you will also shortly see my loyal accomplice.'

At that precise moment a man walked into view on the tablet screen. He was dressed in blue jeans and a black sweatshirt. He looked very casual, and he appeared to be quite relaxed. He had a thin, wiry physique, and some of his front teeth were missing. All in all he looked quite harmless.

Except for one thing.

In his right hand he carried a silenced handgun.
Chapter Two

'I need a code,' said the man on the tablet screen.

He was looking directly into the camera.

'Thirty two,' responded Solomon.

The man in agent Oxley's house nodded and moved away, out of camera shot. The headset he was wearing allowed him to listen to what Solomon was saying, although the other people in the room would not be able to hear.

Oxley raised his pistol and aimed it directly at Solomon's chest.

'I need to know what this is all about, and I need to know right now.'

He started to take a small communications device out of his jacket pocket.

Solomon pulled out a hotel keycard and walked towards a room just down the corridor on his left. He swiped the card and opened the door. Clearly he knew that this room had been left empty.

'Before you do anything foolish, please step inside and I will explain further. Put your gun and radio away, they are of no help to you. Come.'

Oxley put the radio back in his pocket, but held on to the Walther.

'You need to explain fast. I can alert my team with one press of a button. What are you doing with my family?'

He tried to stay calm, but he was angry as hell inside. Who was this guy? What was he doing here? How much danger was his family in?

Solomon sat down on the side of the bed. He placed the tablet next to him. On the screen the woman and the two girls sat quietly. They had now been joined by an older woman, presumably Oxley's mother.

'You're family will be safe, as long as you do as you are told. I have only two requests of you. The first one is fairly straightforward. I need to know the home address of Agent Cole. You will know this of course, as he is a colleague of yours. I understand he works closely with the Prime Minister, which is why it appears his address is so difficult for me to get hold of.'

He was interrupted by the man wearing the black sweatshirt who had reappeared on the screen.

'I need a code.'

'Seventy five,' replied Solomon, turning his head towards the tablet on the bed.

He looked back towards Oxley.

'Yes, I had better explain that. Every sixty seconds I have to provide a specific code to my colleague. If I fail to provide the correct code at the exact time, then one member of your family will be killed. This will happen each time we fail to provide the number. Anyone can provide the code, even you. In fact you can do the next one. It's nineteen. All I need you to do is to fulfil my two requests. So firstly, please provide me with the address that I have requested.'

Oxley pulled out his small radio and held it up to his ear.

'If you alert your colleagues, then I will not give out any more codes,' Solomon said calmly.

Oxley held up the Walther again and aimed directly at Solomon.

'The same applies if you harm me in any way. Of course, you could shoot me and then attempt to rescue your family. However, they would all be dead within the next four minutes. Trust me agent Oxley, you have nowhere to go with this. The man in your house is very highly trained and extremely loyal to our cause. He will not hesitate to carry out his instructions. Just do as I say please.'

Oxley was confused. He was trying to think logically, but he was struggling. He was an expert in his field, a true professional, who had managed to get himself out of all kinds of dangerous situations. Now though, he was worried, very worried. What were his options? He surely had to comply with this lunatic otherwise his family would be in danger. He knew Cole's home address, of course. They were good friends and had trained together in the army. That was in another life though, and a long time ago.

'How do I know you won't harm them, even if I comply with your requests?'

'Agent Oxley, I am a man of my word. You may not like me, but I can guarantee your family's safety if you fully comply with my requests.'

'I need a code.'

The man had reappeared on the screen. Time seemed to be ticking away quickly. Solomon looked across at Oxley and nodded.

Oxley moved towards the screen. He said nothing but just carefully watched the scene before him.

The man with the sweatshirt turned towards the screen. He spoke calmly and clearly, but with a hint of menace.

'I need a code, final warning.'

Oxley stayed quiet.

The man on the screen moved around to stand just behind the older lady. He raised his gun, jerked back the loading mechanism, and aimed it squarely at the back of her head. One of the girls in the room started to scream, just as Oxley's wife jumped up and shouted out loudly.

'No, get away from her. Help us someone, please help us.'

She sounded hysterical, her voice turning into a high pitched screech.

'Nineteen,' shouted Oxley. 'The code is nineteen.' He had started to sweat heavily and there was panic in his voice. He wiped his forehead with his sleeve and watched as the man on the screen lowered the gun and moved away from the older lady.

Oxley raised his Walther P99, cocked it this time, and pointed it directly at Solomon once more.

'Right, you bastard, this is how we are going to play this. You will write down the next thirty codes in sequence and pass them to me. If you don't then I will shoot you dead right now.'

He reached into his inside pocket and pulled out a silver plated ballpoint pen. He threw it towards Solomon.

'Start writing.'

Solomon ignored the pen. He looked back at Oxley.

'Nice try agent Oxley, but you and I know that won't work. I won't be giving you any more of the numbers. I certainly will not do so if I'm dead.'

He laughed at his own small joke.

'No, what we need is for you to comply with my requests. So firstly, what is the address please?'

Oxley lowered his gun. He felt like a beaten man. He was an expert in problem solving. It was one of his specialities. He was a master in all areas of so-called Game Theory, where seemingly impossible situations can be satisfactorily resolved. He was well used to evaluating his options. He was also an arithmetic genius. He had taken all kinds of abuse from his work colleagues when they had discovered that he had been president of his university mathematics club.

All of that didn't matter now. His only option was to do as he was told. He would sort everything out once this man had gone, and his family were safe.

He reluctantly told Solomon the full address of his friend, agent Cole.

Solomon nodded, as he made a mental note of the information.

'Now release my family as you promised.'

'Ah, but you forget. I have two requests that need your action.' A thin smile flashed across Solomon's face as he spoke.

'So what next?' said Oxley.

Solomon stood up and took a step forward. He leaned close to Oxley.

'Next? That's easy. I just want you to kill yourself. One clean shot to the head should do it.'
The following are the opening two chapters of the 3rd book in the Hedge & Cole series.

The Transamerica Cell by Kevin Bradley

Chapter One

Seth Harper saw the three men walking towards him.

He knew they were coming for him, he had been expecting it. One of the men had the fingers of his right hand extended out in front of him. He was pulling on a set of brass knuckles. These were also often referred to as knuckleduster's. This simple type of weapon is used in hand to hand combat, and is usually made of a heavy metal. The idea being that when used effectively, the victim would sustain maximum tissue damage, with the increased likelihood of bone fracture occurring.

Seth reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his cell phone. He looked at the display .The first contact on his list read simply 'Brother Joe.' He touched his finger on the phone next to that name and held the phone to his ear.

The call was answered on the second ring.

'Hi Seth, I can't talk now, I'm out on patrol.'

'Joe, I need help. They're coming for me.' There was panic in his voice.

'Seth. Who is coming for you? Where are you?'

'I'm down in the Pacific Beach area, just off Grand Avenue. I need help, quick ...'

The call went dead.

'Seth. Seth. Hello. Hello. Shit, he's gone.'

Joe Harper turned the steering wheel hard left. The patrol car lurched and spun round.

'We need to head over to Pacific Beach. My brother is in some kind of trouble.'

Joe's partner looked across at him. 'Are you going to call it in?'

'No. No need for that. Let's see what he's up to first. Knowing Seth, it will all be all about nothing,' replied Joe.

His partner nodded. 'Fine, let's go.'

Joe stamped his foot on the accelerator pedal and the car jumped forward. At the same time, he flicked a button on the side of the steering wheel. The blue light on the top of the patrol car began flashing. That should be enough, he thought. No need for the siren just yet.

The first of the three men to reach Seth was a tall guy, with a crooked looking face. His left eye had a long-healed scar just underneath it, and his nose looked like it had been broken several times.

The man grabbed the cell phone off Seth, and threw it to the floor. He had heavy boots on his feet, and so when he stamped on the handset, the front screen shattered instantly.

The other two had now arrived, and all three of them grabbed hold of Seth. Together they dragged him into a nearby alley. As he was being pulled along, Seth stumbled and fell to the ground. His three assailants gathered around him, and began kicking at his body. The man wearing the brass knuckles leaned down and directed a strong punch at the base of Seth's ribcage, on his left side. There was a loud cracking noise as one of his ribs broke.

'Did you hear that,' the man shouted. 'What a beautiful sound.'

Seth screamed. A sharp pain ran down his side. He was laying on his front, with his back exposed, desperately trying to protect his head with his hands.'

'Enough. That's enough for now,' the tall man shouted.

His two accomplices stood back. Seth lay motionless on the ground.

'So where is my money?' the tall man said.

'I don't have it, but I'll get it soon. I promise.' Seth said softly. He wiped his hand across his face, and cleared some of the blood away. It was dribbling out of his nose, and running down his face.

'Not good enough,' said the tall man. 'I need it today.'

'I can't get it today. Give me a week. I promise I'll have it in a week.'

'I need it today.'

'Please. One week. Please.'

The tall man swore as he stood up. He looked quickly up and down the alley. There was no one else about. He reached inside his black, leather jacket and pulled something out. He held the weapon in his outstretched right hand, and turned it so that the sunlight glistened off the eight inch blade.

He nodded towards his two colleagues. One of them smiled as he dropped his knees onto the back of the man lying on the floor. Seth was now pinned down and couldn't move. The other attacker walked over and kicked Seth's ankles outwards, so that his legs ended up splayed apart.

'This is your last chance. I need what you owe me now, today. Hopefully this will get your brain working out how you are going to achieve that.'

The tall man swung the knife at Seth's backside. The blade of the weapon sank into his left buttock, penetrating to around five inches. The tall man felt his hand vibrate as the blade bounced off a piece of bone somewhere deep inside the soft flesh.

Seth screamed aloud. The pain inside his buttock was intense, even more so when he felt the steel of the blade scraping along one of his bones. He couldn't stop crying out. The steel was still in his flesh, and it felt like a thousand sharp needles had been pushed into his body.

One of the men took off his woollen hat, and held it over Seth's mouth to try and lessen the noise he was making.

The tall man stood up. He left the blade buried in Seth's backside. He pushed his heavy boot against the handle of the knife, making it move back and forth.

Seth screamed even louder. Dark red blood was seeping out from the wound.

'Do you have any fresh ideas yet on getting me my money?'

'Please, give me some time. Just a few days, please.' Seth spoke slowly, and quietly, with the words coming out in between deep, painful breaths.

The tall man shook his head in resignation.

He leaned down, and with one swift action he pulled the knife out of Seth's buttock. There was a brief sucking noise as the blade came free. Seth's body convulsed and a long, piercing howl came from his throat.

The tall man looked at the blood coated blade. He pulled his arm back slightly.

'You leave me no choice then,' he said.
Chapter Two

'Hey, what are you up to? Leave him alone.'

Robin Taylor didn't consider himself to be a particularly brave man, but when he saw the three guys standing over someone lying on the ground, he decided to try and intervene.

'I've called the police,' Robin lied.

He was hoping that the three attackers would turn and run, but they didn't. Instead they just looked directly at him as he approached them. The man on the floor was moaning softly. Other than that, he lay still and inert.

The tallest man in the group was nearest to Robin. He turned to face the approaching stranger. As he did so, Robin caught sight of the menacing looking weapon he was holding in his hand. The blade looked long, and was covered in a sticky, red liquid.

Robin stopped walking. He stood motionless, his eyes unblinking, as he stared at the knife.

'And who exactly are you?' said the tall man. His voice was quiet, but his throat sounded hoarse, almost like he had a bad cold, or the flu. He was still gripping the weapon in his right hand.

'I've called the police. They told me that they are on their way.' Robin felt very vulnerable now, so close to the three men. He couldn't stop staring at the knife.

'I'm sure you have,' said the tall man. He was sneering, but the look that he gave Robin was chilling.

It was a hot day, almost ninety degrees Robin estimated. As it was lunch time, the streets in this part of San Diego were quiet. Most people had headed off to get something to eat, or to find somewhere cooler to pass the next couple of hours.

Robin didn't know what he should do next. With hindsight, he was now wishing that he hadn't got involved in this situation. He should have just walked on by. His wife and two young daughters would be waiting for him in the department store just around the next block. That was where they had planned to meet up for something to eat.

His thoughts were suddenly interrupted as the tall man let out a loud cry. Robin was startled, and automatically took a step back. The man had raised his right hand, the one holding the knife, high up in the air. He bought it down rapidly, catching those watching by surprise. As the weapon came down, the man turned slightly, leaned down lower, and plunged the eight inch blade into the back of the head of the man lying on the ground.

The knife was sharp, and it was forced right through the victim's head. The handle of the weapon was pushed up against the soft, fleshy part at the back of the skull, just above the man's neck. The point of the blade ended up coming out of the front of the head, so that it was just visible between the top of the man's nose and his left eyeball.

The body on the floor wriggled and shook for a few moments, and then it was still.

The tall man threw his head back and laughed. 'Has anyone got any headache tablets? This guy has a terrible need for some.'

The other two men also started to laugh. One of them kicked out and aimed his foot straight at the face of the body on the ground. His boot caught the man in the mouth, snapping off several of his front teeth. There was no reaction. The body on the ground was beyond any kind of response now.

Robin couldn't believe what he had just witnessed. He was horrified, and in a state of shock. He took a few paces backwards, trying to get himself away from the murder scene. The three men moved towards him, the tall man at the front, smiling.

Suddenly, the smile had gone. It was replaced with a look of panic. The alley they were in was reasonably well lit, certainly not dark. Even so, the blue light bouncing off the alley walls was clearly visible, just for a split second, as the patrol car slowly drove past.

The three men turned and ran. They headed off down the alley, away from where Robin was standing. After some thirty yards, they turned right into an adjoining passage, and completely disappeared from sight.

Robin was still terrified, but his first thought was to try and help the man lying on the ground. He ran over and knelt next to the body. There was no movement. Blood was pouring from the man's head. Robin tried to pull the knife out, but it was stuck fast. He tried to wipe the sticky, red liquid off his fingers, but all he succeeded in doing was staining his clothes.

It was hopeless. The man lay completely still. He must be dead, Robin thought.

He turned around, just in time to see the police car backing up the street. It had obviously driven past the alley, but something had attracted the suspicion of the officers in the car. The vehicle stopped and Officer Joe Harper opened the driver's door and jumped out.

'What's going on here?' Joe could see the man lying on the ground.

As he entered the alley, he pulled his Glock 22 handgun from its holster. He must have been about ten yards from the body, when he suddenly recognised who it was.

'Seth,' he shouted, as he ran forward.

Joe stopped when he reached his brother. He raised his pistol towards Robin as he shouted his orders.

'Turn around slowly, so that you are facing away from me. Move towards the wall and place your arms above your head.'

Robin tried to speak, but no words came from his mouth. He was still in a state of shock.

'Do it now,' shouted Joe.

Robin turned, and did as he was told. His hands were covered in blood still, something Joe noticed as he turned to focus his attention on the body in front of him.

'Oh my god,' Joe said quietly as he tried to find a pulse in Seth's neck.

Joe was a seasoned police officer. He had seen many dead bodies in his time. Some of them had been shot, a few occasionally drowned, and many of them had stab wounds. But this was different. This was his brother, his own flesh and blood.

He tried to focus, but it wasn't easy. There were tears running down his face. He pressed a button on his radio, and called for an ambulance. He knew it was too late for that, but that's what you did in a situation like this.

Joe stood up. He looked down at the body of his brother. His heart was pounding in his ears, and his eyes were stinging. His mind was racing. But most of all, his rage was building to an impossible level.

'Who the hell has done this to my kid brother?' he asked himself.

He looked across the alley at the man holding his hands above his head.

His red hands.
