Leila felt herself sag with relief when she saw Wollerton leaning against the booking desk. He was talking to the custody officer. She had no idea where he’d come from or how he’d done it, but she could have kissed the man for securing her release. The uniformed cop led Leila through a security door and stood aside.
‘You can get your things from the desk,’ he said.
Leila shuffled over and when Wollerton turned to face her, his expression changed from annoyance to surprise. She must have looked a mess. He didn’t seem in great shape either. His skin was pale and his eyes had the deep shadows of a man who’d seen a lifetime’s trouble.
‘Susan,’ he said. ‘I was just . . .’ he glanced at the custody officer. ‘Why didn’t you tell me you were letting her out?’
She wasn’t big on emotional displays, but she hugged Wollerton. He patted her awkwardly.
‘Come on,’ he said. ‘I’ve got a car waiting outside.’
‘Let me just get my stuff,’ Leila replied.
Minutes later, cane in hand, Ghostlink in her pocket, Leila joined Wollerton outside the precinct. It was a warm night and stars peeked out from behind patchy cloud.
‘How did you find me?’ Leila asked.
‘I phoned our employer’s point man,’ Wollerton replied, referring to Robert Clifton, ‘and asked him to use his NSA contacts to check recent hospital admissions and arrests. I thought there’d only be three reasons you and Pearce wouldn’t respond to comms – arrest, capture or incapacity.’
‘So you haven’t heard from Scott?’
Wollerton shook his head. ‘What happened?’
‘He was at the warehouse,’ Leila said.
‘I saw it on the news. Was he inside?’
‘Yeah, but he got out and made it to the river,’ Leila explained. ‘That’s when I lost contact with him.’
‘We need to find out what happened.’
‘We set up at a motel. We can start there,’ Leila suggested.
‘Car’s this way.’ Wollerton indicated the public car park that lay beyond the police parking.
Leila’s cane tapped against the tarmac and she leaned on it hard, eager for whatever support it could provide. Her legs were heavy and devoid of energy. ‘Thanks for getting me out.’
Wollerton scoffed. ‘I didn’t do anything. I’d just arrived and was trying to convince the guy to tell me whether I’d got the right precinct.’
‘Then you’re a lucky charm,’ Leila said as they walked past rows of stationary police cars. ‘What happened in Qingdao?’
‘Someone tried to kidnap me. I think Brigitte was involved . . .’ Wollerton began, but he stopped talking. Leila followed his eye line, and saw four uniformed cops emerge from a pair of patrol vehicles that were double-parked in the service road that split the police and public parking areas.
Leila’s stomach went into a violent spin as she realized she’d been right. The sight of the former MI6 operative had lulled her into a false sense of security. Those men were coming for her.
‘Kyle,’ she said, suddenly on edge. ‘We need to—’
‘I know,’ he said, and they both started to back away.
Tyres screeched nearby and Leila turned to see two police officers hanging from the open side door of an unmarked van. Before she or Wollerton could react, the men jumped out and shocked them with stun guns. Fifty thousand volts shot up Leila’s spine, and as she collapsed, she registered strong arms around her, propelling her into the gaping mouth of the waiting van.