Private Royals

Chapter 25

Cook gunned the engine, blaring the horn as she used the Range Rover’s size to bully her way through the morning traffic. Above them, the muggy June skies loomed heavy and grey.

‘I think it’s going to rain,’ Morgan assessed with a pilot’s eye for the weather.

He was right. Not thirty seconds later the clouds opened.

‘You know any shortcuts?’ Morgan questioned Cook, cursing as others in the road braked and slowed as the rain bounced from the tarmac.

‘Nothing legal,’ she replied. Outside, the rain ceased as if a tap had been turned.

‘We can’t risk the police stopping us.’ Morgan shook his head, frustrated. ‘Did you get hurt back there?’

‘He didn’t land a finger on me,’ the soldier said, with more than a little pride. ‘He needs to take some time off the weights and work on his cardio.’

‘The beating you put on him, he’s going to be taking time off from everything.’

Cook’s smile dropped a little.

‘I was praying he was our guy,’ she said.

‘Me too.’

‘I would have beat Abbie’s location out of him if he was,’ Cook promised.

‘I know.’ Morgan considered giving his prospective employee a pep talk on the need for good conduct and rules of engagement, but he held his tongue. The truth was, Jack himself would have done whatever it took to get the information that could save Abbie Winchester — there was an innocent life at stake.

‘Flex will come back at you,’ she warned.

Morgan nodded. ‘He will.’

‘Ex-SAS and he runs mercenaries. The guy has a reputation to protect, Jack. You need to watch him.’

‘I will,’ Morgan promised, hearing the concern underlying the professional warning. ‘Thanks,’ he told her.

‘For what?’ Cook asked, taking her eyes off the road and meeting his.

‘For everything so far, and for having my back.’

‘Oh,’ she said, and paused, weighing up her next words. ‘It’s a nice back to have.’ Cook smiled, and the pair laughed. It was a laugh of relief as adrenaline wore away from tired muscles.

‘We’re almost there,’ Morgan said, checking the GPS, then turning his serious eyes onto Cook. ‘You’re our liaison here, Jane. You don’t have to come in for this.’

‘You think Abbie’s going to be there?’ she asked.

Morgan nodded.

Cook said nothing more. She didn’t need to.

Up ahead was the truck yard. The soldier brought the Range Rover to a stop and, with a look to Morgan, stepped out.