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three shots. Catherine took two of them in the chest and fell.

Helena froze for a moment, realization kicking in. She looked at King fleetingly as he adjusted his aim, and then she dropped to the ground, a red hole appearing on her chest and a crimson splash leaving her back.

King got up and dashed to Caroline. He hugged her close.

“Help me up,” she said.

“No, stay there, I’ll get help…”

“Help me up. I’m not hit,” she said. “I fell…”

King hugged her like she would float away from him if he let her go. He felt her arms squeeze him tightly, her tears soaking his cheek.

“I thought I’d lost you,” he said quietly. He pulled away and looked at her inquisitively. “Where the hell did you come from?”

Caroline shifted in the dirt and sat up. “Ramsay had a text from Rashid. We high-tailed it up here, but a lorry hit us about six miles back,” she paused, wiped dust and tears and blood from her face. “Marnie was knocked out cold, Ramsay said you’re a big boy and his priority was to get her to hospital.”

King nodded, although he had no idea who Marnie was. “Why didn’t Ramsay tell Rashid that you were safe?”

“He did.”

They both looked up and saw Rashid looking down at Helena. He had a grey blanket over his shoulders, a load of foliage poking out of the weave, the AK15 rifle in his hand. He kicked the revolver away from Helena’s body and strode over. “For a start, you don’t return my calls,” he paused. “And that bitch needed to go down. End it for you both. You were too close, needed to keep your head in the game. She’s still alive by the way.”

King got up, limped over to Helena. He ached and bled and felt weak. The wound to his stomach had stopped bleeding. It was packed with dirty cloth, and he needed to get medical attention imminently. He had seen enough gunshot wounds to know he had been lucky. On closer inspection he had seen that the bullet had slowed through his leather belt and was stuck in the muscle wall. His arm ached though, and he put his missed shots down to the lack of movement. It was still bleeding, despite his makeshift dressing.

Helena looked up at him. Her breathing was shallow and there was blood at her lips. Her eyes, for the first time, did not show indignity, cruelty or spite. They were the eyes of someone close to the destination of their journey. The only destination we all ultimately reach yet are completely unprepared for. She looked a different person.

“Counter measures,” King said. “My guy was better than your guy.”

She tried to speak, but the rattle left her lips and she closed her eyes, her face frozen, her body relaxing and resting still.

King turned around and walked back to Caroline. He put his arm around her and looked at Rashid. “I guess I owe you a pint?”

Rashid smiled, looked at the two of them and shook his head. “Nah, I’ll buy you both a drink when we get home.”

75

 

London

 

“I’ve spoken with Bérénice Duvall my contact with Interpol in the Anarchy to Recreate Society case,” Caroline said, hesitantly enough for King to sit up and look at her. “She is arranging a tour for me. I’ve spoken to Director Amherst, Simon Mereweather too. They have agreed for me to take a sabbatical from MI5. Six months.”

King sat up in the sofa, he struggled with his bandaged arm, pinned to his chest in a sling. He had stitches in his side and had only just found a comfortable position. Somehow, slouching didn’t seem appropriate with Caroline’s revelation hanging in the air. “To go and work with Interpol?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“I see,” King paused. It was a rare thing for him to appear shocked, but he could not play it down. Didn’t want to. “Is this goodbye?”

Caroline cocked her head to one side, reached out and stroked his leg. “No,” she said quietly. “But this is something I have to do.”

“Georgia?”

“It’s a start,” she said confidently. “I can’t let it go. I’ve tried. Believe me, I’ve tried. But those girls… the things I saw…”

“It eats you up.”

“Exactly.”

“Caroline, I’ll never ask what happened, other than what you’ve already told me,” King said. “I’ve seen enough crap, gone through enough to understand what needs to be known, and what is better left buried. But will this help you?”

Caroline’s eyes flashed momentarily. “It’s past the point of whether it helps me or not. I need to do it for them.”

“The Georgian police are investigating.”

“You really think they’ll close the loop? Ramsay said that Cub Scouts could have done a better investigation. Interpol will lend their expertise. It’s a wild west country. The police and government officials are all on the take. Sure, it’s closed-down now, but another venture will start up again. If not there, then in the Ukraine, Belarus, another anonymous spec on the map.”

King nodded. “I can imagine that,” he agreed. He could see how important it was to her, but he didn’t want to lose her. He wanted to fight for her, but he could see that if he stopped her from doing what both her heart and mind was set upon, then he would ultimately lose her anyway.

“Bérénice is excited. She has contacts who want to do more to shut-down these ventures. She has a couple of people in mind who will jump at the chance and together, we may make a difference.”

King nodded. He sipped some of his tea, but it was tepid. He recognised Caroline’s drive, her desire to do something as survivor’s guilt. She had fled that night. There was no way she could have fought for those girls and women. To

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