21
End Of The Line
I checked over both shoulders. “Where is he?”
“Thirty feet back,” Roni said. “Dressed in black.”
That sounded like Philippe. Yet all I saw were the faces of strangers. I did notice a flash of black. Clothes, hair and dark features. But a flash and no more.
“f**k,” Roni said. “I lost him.”
I tried to re-focus—keep pace with Dahl and Bilal.
Dahl was heading straight for another tube stop. A set of stairs leading underground. As I waited for a chance to cross the road, I spotted Philippe only twenty yards behind Bilal.
“I see him.” I said. “Hansel, he’s on your tail.”
Bilal didn’t turn. He was a cool little cucumber. “Stick to him, Goldilocks. Try and keep him busy.”
I dashed across the road in a gap between traffic. I hopped onto the opposite pavement ahead of a
