‘Place the woman on the ground and take three steps back, nice and slowly,’ the same person who had instructed him a moment ago yelled out.

‘I’m with the FBI,’ Hunter shouted back, a touch of anger overshadowing any relief in his voice. ‘My name is Robert Hunter. I had to dispose of my credentials back on the runway of Berlin’s municipal airport. You can check with Director Adrian Kennedy, if you like, but do it in your own time, because this woman needs immediate medical assistance.’

Agent Brody, the one who had called out the commands, took a step closer and squinted his eyes at Hunter. It took his memory an extra couple of seconds to match Hunter’s blood-streaked face to the photograph Director Kennedy had emailed him.

‘Stand down. He’s with us,’ Brody instructed his team, urgently moving toward Hunter. ‘There are supposed to be two of you,’ he said as he got to Hunter. ‘Agent Taylor?’

Hunter gave Brody a subtle headshake that told him everything he needed to know.

Two other agents joined them. The remaining two kept their distance, their flashlights and weapons checking the perimeter.

‘And the prisoner?’ Brody asked, as they started moving toward where the Jeep was parked again.

‘On the run,’ Hunter answered. ‘Where’s your car?’

‘Parked behind the Jeep you took from the air traffic controller.’

‘When did you get here?’ Hunter asked.

‘About a minute ago. We were just moving toward the house when we saw you come out.’

‘And you didn’t cross paths with Lucien?’

They reached the cars. Brody’s team had a GMC SUV.

‘No.’

One of the agents opened the back door. The other helped Hunter place Madeleine on the backseat. He gently brushed the hair from her forehead.

‘Madeleine, stay awake, OK. We’re almost there.’

Madeleine blinked tiredly.

Hunter looked at the agent holding the car keys.

‘You need to get her to a hospital now.’

The agent was already jumping into the driver’s seat.

‘I’ll get her there.’

Hunter turned to the second agent. ‘Get in the back with her. Do not let her fall asleep. Tell the medical team that she received a stab wound to the left upper side of her abdomen, approximately five inches deep. The blade reached the spleen, and was twisted counterclockwise on its way out.’

The agent nodded and jumped into the car.

Madeleine’s lips moved.

‘What was that, honey?’ Hunter asked, leaning down. His right ear came within an inch of her lips.

‘Please don’t leave me.’ Her voice was now barely audible. Shock was settling in.

‘I won’t. I promise. These men are going to take you to a hospital now so they can treat you, OK? I’ll be right behind them. I won’t leave you. First, I’m just going to get the bastard that did this to you.’

Hunter closed the door and looked at the driver. ‘Go, now.’

One Hundred and Five

As the car drove away, Hunter faced Agent Brody.

‘You came in this way and you didn’t cross paths with Lucien?’ he asked again.

‘No,’ Brody confirmed.

Hunter’s gaze moved to the forest surrounding them.

‘There’s another way to get to this house,’ Brody said.

Hunter looked at him.

‘You can see it if you look at a satellite picture, or a map.’ Brody explained. ‘It goes around the long way. It takes you up to the back of the house.’

Hunter had suspected that there was another way to get to the house when he saw Ghost, because he had to have driven here. No way would he have walked.

‘Let’s go,’ Hunter said.

They quickly moved back in the direction of the house. The other two agents saw them, and promptly joined them. They moved past the stairs that led down to Satan’s basement and carried on toward the rear of the property.

The house’s backyard was as dilapidated as the building itself. Lucien had told the truth. There was a small pond, or something that once had been a pond. Now it was just an ugly pool of mud. There was also an ample concrete pathway, most of it cracked and full of holes. Parked on the right-hand side of the dirt path that led away from the house was a beat-up fifteen-year-old Ford Bronco. They all drew their weapons and approached the car slowly and carefully. It was empty. No doubt that was Ghost’s vehicle.

This time it was Brody’s turn to study the forestland surrounding the house.

‘Do you think he’s on foot?’ he asked. ‘Tracking away through the forest?’

Hunter walked over to the dirt path, kneeled down, and used his flashlight to check the ground.

‘No,’ he replied after a few seconds. ‘He’s got a motorbike.’ He pointed to the tire tracks he found.

‘What kind of head start has he got on us?’ Brody asked.

‘Five to six minutes, maximum.’

Brody reached for his cellphone. ‘He can’t be that far then. I’ll call Director Kennedy. He’ll be able to organize roadblocks all around this perimeter.’

Hunter closed his eyes and cursed himself again for not seeing this coming. He said nothing to Agent Brody, but he knew roadblocks wouldn’t work. Not in this forsaken place, and not with the minimum amount of time they had.

A perimeter airtight roadblock requires manpower, and a hell of a lot of vehicles, something Hunter was sure the city of Berlin or Milan in New Hampshire didn’t have. He’d be surprised if both of their police departments together mounted up to more than eight men and four cars. Kennedy would have to request the help of the police departments in adjacent cities. The closest FBI field office was a whole state away. By the time Kennedy managed to gather together the manpower he needed to shut the roads and pathways to try to contain the area, Lucien would certainly have already crossed state lines.

Hunter knew that none of this had been coincidence. All of it had been planned. Lucien had left absolutely nothing to chance.

One Hundred and Six

Four hours later.

The entire fallout shelter was now swarming with FBI personnel. Courtney Taylor’s body together with Ghost’s had both been placed in zip-up body bags and taken to the airport, where they were to be flown back to the chief medical examiner in Quantico.

Brody’s team agents had made it to the Androscoggin Valley Hospital in Berlin in record time. Madeleine Reed was still being operated on, but the doctors had told both agents that due to the precarious condition her body was in – very malnourished and partially dehydrated – her chances of survival weren’t the best. But as long as there was a chance, there was hope.

Hunter and Director Adrian Kennedy were in the shelter’s control room. Hunter had run Kennedy through everything that had happened since they’d lost their satellite communication back at the airport.

Kennedy had listened to everything with a somber expression on his face, and without interrupting. When Hunter told him how Agent Taylor was executed at point-blank range, and the reason for her execution, Kennedy squeezed his eyes tight and let his chin drop to his chest. Hunter actually saw him quiver with rage.

‘How did this happen, Robert?’ Kennedy finally asked when Hunter was done. ‘How come this Ghost character was here waiting for you? He couldn’t just have been here the whole time, could he?’

‘Probably not,’ Hunter replied.

‘So how come he was here waiting for you? How come he knew exactly when you were coming?’

‘He didn’t.’

Kennedy pulled an annoyed face. ‘What do you mean, Robert?’

Hunter had been thinking about this for some time.