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drop them off in the woods somewhere, got it? It’s too late to back out now.”

Reluctant, Walker sighed, put the mask on his head as a beanie hat and nodded his understanding of the situation. “And that’s all you’re going to do? Just beat the shit out of them, nothing more? You’re not planning on taking fingers, or anything like that?”

His sergeant looked at him like he was an alien. “I’m a fucking police officer, Luke, not a thug. If I did that, I’d be no better than them. No, I’ll leave it up to Zuccari to decide how far we go, though, but it won’t be further than beating them up, okay?”

Alarm bells rang in his head. “Zuccari? Where is he?”

The sarge gave him a strange, “You know where” look. “He’s with the others, picking up Melodi. Tonight’s going to be a lovely little family reunion for them.”

Vodicka, her mask as a beanie, patted him on the shoulder. “Give us a minute, then pull up outside the shop, got it? Let’s go get these bastards!”

How had this all happened so quickly? Only this morning they picked up Zuccari in his flat. How was he now sat in a van waiting to hurl two psychopathic Turks into the back, ready to cart them off to God knows where to give them a hiding they wouldn’t forget? Sarge gave him no time to think; he came and found him in the changing room earlier and gave him instructions to meet at his house. “Oh shit!” He stamped his feet, watching Sarge and Vodicka approach the kebab shop.

If it had been anyone other than Vodicka with Sarge, Walker would have offered to go in their place, but he knew just how tough she was. If one of the Inans gave her trouble, she would drop them before they knew what happened. “Shit, shit, shit!” He banged his hands on the steering wheel, watching his colleagues go inside.

He switched on the engine. With visions going through his mind of Vodicka drop kicking one of the Turkish brothers, while Sarge had the other at his disposal, Walker saw the shorter Vodicka tying one of the thug brothers’ hands behind his back while the Turk was forced over a table. Sarge had the other one on his front on the floor, tying his wrists behind his back with plastic cable ties.

Walker got out of the van, pulled the mask over his face, and slid open the van’s side door. He stood waiting for his colleagues. The first out was Vodicka; she used all her core strength to fling the Turk into the back of the VW van. Then she climbed in after him.

The Sarge came out second, wrestling with the enraged Inan brother. “Get the fuck in that van!” He punched the thug in the face, kneed him in the balls, then bulldozed him into the rear of the van, where Vodicka kicked him in the face. “Go! Go! Go!”

Walker slammed the side door, yanking it shut with brute strength, showing his colleagues how pissed off he was. “Jesus fucking Christ!” He kicked the side of the van, before hopping on the driver’s seat. “Which way now?”

He followed his boss’s directions out of the city, along dual carriageways for about an hour. Every now and then he would hear Vodicka keeping the brothers quiet with brute force. She was brutal, he thought, hearing one of the thugs cry.

Sarge turned to his captives in his seat. “You’re in trouble now, boys. You’ve made a career of hurting people. Now you’re going to know what it feels like.” He turned back to Walker. “You’re right, though, they’re pussies. Bullies, huh?”

Another punch for the Inans was Vodicka’s reply. Walker never wanted to piss her off, ever. Vodicka was without a doubt the toughest woman he’d ever met, in every way, emotionally, and physically. He wanted to say Rachel was, but he suspected that the shorter, squat Vodicka would have Rachel for breakfast, and the leftovers for lunch.

“It’s this turning here,” Sarge said, as Walker indicated left.

He drove them along a country lane, until Sarge ordered him to take another left up an even thinner track. There were potholes everywhere. Fortunately, the farm, their destination, wasn’t far along the track. Walker parked outside a barn.

“Let’s get these bastards out of here.” Sarge jumped out of the van.

The farm’s owner joined them. He opened the barn door and switched on an overhead light. “Good to see you, brother.” The farmer hugged Sarge.

Walker wanted to know what Sarge’s name was. The whole unit wanted to know. They’d all tried everything to find out, but their boss wanted it kept quiet. He liked the title too much to end it. Opening the side door, Walker grabbed one of the brothers’ ankles, yanked him out, grinning when he landed on the dirt with his face. When the Inan brother cursed him, he accidentally kicked him in the balls. “Shut your fucking mouth.”

Vodicka pulled the other brother along the dirt into the barn. When everyone was inside, the farmer closed the barn door. Walker stood back, not wanting to get involved, as much as he desired to. His mask shielded him from reprisals.

52

Charlotte saw the headlights coming a few seconds before Hayes parked up behind her. When she arrived, she saw the police cordon tape across the entrance to the courtyard, and decided to park across the road from the workshop instead. With excitement mixed with fear, she opened her door and rose slowly. The two detectives joined her. “How are we getting in?” she asked Hayes.

“With this.” Hayes held out what looked like a straight paperclip.

“So you do have a pick-lock thingy. I asked you earlier and you looked at me like I was mad.” She took the thin metal slither and held it. “Is it hard to do?”

“Not once you know how to use it.”

“Can we do this and get the hell out of here, please?” Miller walked away.

Charlotte followed Hayes,

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