her, Graham. I've got the evidence." Suddenly the line went dead. Baffled, Alex rounded on Duncan. "What the fuck?" he said.
"Enough," Duncan said, wrenching the headphones from his head. "I'm not having this broadcast to the world. What the hell is this, Gilbey? Some kind of pact between you and Macfadyen to fit up Lawson?"
"What are you talking about?" Lynn demanded.
"It was Lawson," Alex said.
"I heard you, Lawson killed Rosie," Lynn said, gripping his arm.
"Not just Rosie. He killed Ziggy and Mondo too. And he tried to kill Weird. Macfadyen saw him," Alex said wonderingly.
"I don't know what you think you're playing at? Duncan began. He was stopped in his tracks by the arrival of Lawson. Pale and sweating, the ACC looked around the group, puzzled and clearly angry.
"What the hell are you two doing here?" he demanded, pointing at Alex and Lynn. He rounded on Karen. "I told you to keep her in the ARU van. Christ, this is a fucking circus. Get them out of here."
There was a moment of silence, then Karen Pirie said, "Sir, some very serious allegations have been made that we need to talk about?
"Karen, this is not a fucking debating society. We're in the middle of a life-and-death operation," Lawson shouted. He raised his radio to his lips. "Is everyone in position?"
Alex dashed the radio from Lawson's hand. "Listen to me, you bastard." Before he could say more, Duncan was grappling him to the ground. Alex wrestled the policeman, dragging his head free to shout, "We know the truth, Lawson. You killed Rosie. And you killed my friends. It's over. You can't hide any longer."
Lawson's eyes blazed fury. "You're as mad as he is." He bent down and retrieved his radio as a couple of uniformed officers dived on top of Alex.
"Sir," Karen said urgently.
"Not now, Karen," Lawson exploded. He turned away, his radio to his face again. "Is everyone in position?"
The replies crackled back through his earpiece. Before Lawson could respond, he heard the voice of the technical-support commander in the helicopter. "Hold fire. Target with hostage."
He hesitated for only a second. "Go," he said. "Go, go, go."
Macfadyen was ready to face the world. Alex Gilbey's words had restored his faith in the possibility of justice. He would give the man his daughter back. To ensure safe passage, he'd take a knife with him. One final insurance policy to get him safely out the door and into the arms of the waiting police.
He was halfway to the front door, Davina tucked under his arm like a parcel, a kitchen knife in his free hand, when his world exploded. Doors caved in front and back. Men shouted, a deafening cacophony. Brilliant white flares exploded, blinding him. Instinctively, he pulled the child round to his chest. The hand holding the knife came up toward her. Through the chaos, he thought he heard someone shout, "Drop her."
He felt paralyzed. He couldn't let go.
The lead marksman saw a child's life at risk. He spread his feet, steadied his gun hand and aimed for the head.
Chapter 46
April 2004; Blue Mountains, Georgia
The spring sunshine shimmered over the trees as Alex and Weird emerged onto the ridge. Weird led the way to an outcropping of rock that jutted over the slope and clambered up, settling down with his long legs dangling over the edge. He reached into his backpack and came out with a small pair of binoculars. He trained them down the hillside then passed them over to Alex.
"Straight down, then slightly to your left."
Alex adjusted the focus and ranged over the territory below. All of a sudden, he realized he was looking at the roof of their cabin. The figures running around outside were Weird's kids. The adults sitting by the picnic table were Lynn and Paul. And the baby kicking on the rug at her feet was Davina. He watched as his daughter spread her arms wide and chuckled up at the trees. His love for her pierced him like stigmata.
He'd come so close to losing her. When he'd heard the gunshot, he thought his heart would explode. Lynn's scream had echoed in his head like the end of the world. An eternity had passed before one of the armed cops had emerged with Davina in his arms, and even that had been no relief. As they approached, all he could see was blood.
But the blood had all been Macfadyen's. The marksman had hit his target unflinchingly. Lawson's face could have been carved from granite for