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so we need to remove ourselves from the situation before she gets a chance.”
    “When will she be up again?”
    Philip felt a brisk charge of annoyance prickle across his skin. “I don’t know.” That wasn’t exactly true, but he didn’t have time to delve into it at the moment. “Soon enough. We need to be fully prepared before we face her.” Liliana did not argue with him. She knew better.
    There was no sign of traffic, no sign of anybody. The bomb going off in Waterman’s house had left his ears ringing slightly, but his hearing was better than most, and he had been closer to the blast than anyone in the neighborhood. “Let’s go.”
    They crossed the street and Philip opened the boot. Liliana dumped her burden inside without much in the way of ceremony or mercy, unfurling the carpet to spill Waterman out. He hit his head on the metal edge of the boot as he fell, probably compounding his unconsciousness. Philip reached out, waiting to see if that would cause a problem. Once he was sure it wouldn’t, he glanced up and down the street again, then made for the passenger door while Liliana slammed the boot closed. The sound echoed up and down the quiet Hounslow street.
    “Did you kill the copper with her?” Liliana asked as she slid into the driver’s seat and started the car. Philip could smell the faint hint of something burning and wondered if he’d started a fire with the bomb. That would be delicious, but alas, not fatal for the girl in question.
    “No,” he said, shaking his head. He knew the answer by instinct, of course. “He’s merely rattled, like a soldier in a war zone. He’ll be out the door in about thirty seconds. I suggest we be around the corner by then.”
    Liliana nodded once, already turning the ignition key. That was something Philip had long admired about her. She was ruthlessly efficient. Probably the product of her Cold War-era training. She had the car moving seconds later, and they turned the corner just in time by Philip’s reckoning.
    “What now?” Liliana asked.
    Philip felt a gentle sense of euphoria fall over him. He’d just poked the Met squarely in the eye with a sharp stick, and it gave him more than a little thrill. They had no idea what they were dealing with, not even a hint. “They’ll move quickly, so we’ll need to be quicker still. They’ve guessed what we’re up to, but the structure of the situation will work against them.”
    Liliana’s dark eyes found him as they drove on. “You mean the fact that they’re hiding?”
    “That’s the structure of the situation, yes,” Philip said. He could feel his lips curl. “Now they think all we care about is killing these swine.” But there was more. So much more. “That could work to our advantage.”
    Liliana gave him a perfunctory nod to say she understood. She didn’t truly, though. He’d seen that much from looking into her eyes. “What about Waterman? Do you want me to start on him?”
    “Start, but not finish,” Philip agreed. He took a sniff of the car interior, and he wondered, not for the first time, if someone had been smoking in here. Probably Antonio. The bomb maker seemed like the sort to indulge every now and again. “Make sure the old man watches it all.”
    She made that hiss again, the one of acknowledgment, and settled into silence. That worked well for Philip, though, because he had plans to make. Plans that now included that girl, Sienna Nealon. He hadn’t seen her coming, and that was a rare thing.
    But then again, a surprise like this…knowing who she was and what she’d done…it was quite enticing. The very idea of besting her, killing her… it would make the ending of this whole thing all the sweeter.

Chapter 9
    I awoke in pain. Lots and lots of pain. Screaming, flames-licking-my-body pain.
    For the record, there were no actual flames. It took me a while to realize that, though, with the haze of smoke and debris scattered all over the place.
    Angus Waterman’s kitchen