Chapter 100
KNIGHT’S POUNDING HEAD felt battered, as if it had been struck again. His attention lurched to his sleeping children. The necklace and wristwatch were gone. There was no way to trace them now. And what about the taxi driver? Why hadn’t he given the phone to Hooligan or Pottersfield? Why hadn’t they come for him? Were they tracking Marta to the trains?
Knight looked back to Lancer, who was gathering up a bag and some papers.
‘My kids have done nothing,’ Knight said. ‘They’re just three years old. Innocent.’
‘Little monsters,’ Lancer said flatly, turning for the door. ‘Goodbye, Knight. It was nice competing with you, but the better man has won.’
‘No, you haven’t!’ Knight shouted after him. ‘Mundaho proved it. You haven’t won. The Olympic spirit lives on whatever you do.’
That hit a nerve because Lancer turned and marched back towards Knight – only to flinch and stop at the sound of a gunshot.
It came from the television and caused Lancer to relax, a smirk on his face.
‘The men’s marathon has started,’ he said. ‘The final game has begun. And you know what, Knight? Because I’m the superior man, I’m going to let you live to see the ending. Before Marta kills you, she’s going to let you witness exactly how I snuff out that Olympic spirit once and for all.’