The Hunt

93

Jaeger’s eyes widened. He was gripped by an unshakeable fear. A phrase had come unbidden into his head, from the time of his bloody fight with Steve Jones in Kammler’s lair. It had slipped from his mind during the long hours of unconsciousness that had followed. But it was back now with a vengeance, triggered by Narov’s recollections.

He turned to the boys, doing his best to hide his consternation. He thrust his debit card in their direction. ‘Here, you know the code. You guys must be starving. We’ll see you in McDonald’s in five.’

The only answer was a pair of doors slamming and the boys were gone.

Jaeger turned back to Narov. ‘Before I shot him, Steve Jones said something. Something like: I’m gonna keep you alive so you can watch your family fry. It’s only just come back to me.’

Narov’s gaze hardened. ‘So it is personal. For both of them. Against you and your loved ones. If there is a device still out there, it is being targeted at you and them.’

‘But how? And where?’

Narov pointed towards the pair of golden arches that rose above the service area. ‘The boys. Has to be. Kammler tortured you with Ruth and Luke before, remember. This time, Ruth ran to Kammler. To his side. That leaves only the boys.’

Jaeger glanced towards the darkening horizon, in the direction of the coast. The school rugby match had ended late. It was dusk. Darkness descending. In the distance, a pair of floodlit towers rose above the clifftop, surrounded by a weird, ghostly halo of alien blue light.

It hit him suddenly, in a blinding flash of realisation. ‘The reactor at Hinkley Point,’ he whispered. ‘Has to be.’

A forty-kilo IND detonated at Hinkley – it would cause meltdown at the plant. Cataclysmic devastation. It would fit Kammler’s bill perfectly… and the boys’ school just nearby would be one of the first places to be hit. Might even be close enough to be flattened by the blast.

He turned to Narov. ‘Hinkley’s smack-bang beside their school. Plus it’s coastal, so perfect for his fleet of yachts. The prevailing wind spreading radioactive fallout all across the country. Bristol, Reading, Oxford, London… all those cities in its path. And from there on into western Europe, like so many Chernobyls…’

His mind was awakening to the full ramifications; the full horror. ‘We’ve been outsmarted. Completely. It was always nine. How could we have been so dumb? How could we have missed it?’

Narov shrugged. ‘Shit happens. And we’re not perfect.’

‘The ninth device – it’s his last laugh on us all. His gift to a devastated world.’

‘Not if we can stop him.’ Narov’s voice was tight with tension. ‘Hinkley’s what, twenty minutes’ drive away?’

‘Less. Fifteen.’

She slammed a fist into the Range Rover’s wheel. ‘Then what are we waiting for? But what about the boys?’

Jaeger glanced towards the twin towers. ‘We do not take them any closer to the threat. They sit tight here. I’ll call someone who can fetch them.’

He checked the time and date on his watch. Jennie. Raff’s girlfriend normally worked nights, but she had the long weekend off. Raff was planning to take her away on a surprise break. He grabbed his mobile. He’d give her a call.

He went to throw open the Range Rover’s door, but paused for an instant. The date. Utterly chilling. He didn’t believe in coincidences.

‘You know what date it is? The thirtieth of April. Anniversary of Hitler’s death. It’s pre-planned. Got to be.’

‘Only one way to find out.’ Narov fixed him with a look. ‘We have to get moving. Go tell the boys.’

‘Weaponry? Whoever’s crewing that boat, what the fuck do we have to fight them with? Our bare hands?’

Narov reached behind her back and withdrew a compact pistol. Her Beretta 92FS. Jaeger didn’t know how she’d managed to keep hold of it, but he wasn’t entirely surprised.

‘Never go anywhere without it,’ she breathed. ‘Go warn the boys.’

‘Make some calls and get a chopper scrambled from Valhalla,’ Jaeger called over his shoulder as he darted from the vehicle. ‘They should be able to get here pronto.’

Valhalla: their slang for Hereford, the SAS’s base, lying just north of the Bristol Channel. It made sense to call for as much backup as possible.

‘We will be there sooner,’ Narov yelled after him.