ski mask stared at her with unblinking green eyes, saying nothing.
'He will, you know. He's already told me that he's got the money ready, and he'll pay. However much you want. So you might as well let Katie go. You can keep me here for as long as you want. Okay?' Andy heard the words tumbling out of her mouth as if they belonged to somebody else.
The green eyes stared back at her. Andy suddenly realised that there was mascara on the lashes. It wasn't a man, it was a woman. She heard a chuckling over her shoulder and she looked around. A large man with a wrestler's build was laughing at her.
Like the woman, he had on a black ski mask that revealed nothing other than his eyes and part of his mouth, and was wearing similar blue overalls which were strained tight against his barrel-like chest. Next to the burly man was a taller, gangly man, also in a black ski mask and overalls. He was wearing pristine white Nike training shoes.
'Have you finished?' asked Green-eyes.
Andy whirled around to face her. 'What?'
'Have you said all you want to say?' said the woman. A Scottish accent, but there was a hint of Northern Irish, too. 'Are you ready to listen?'
Andy swallowed and nodded.
'You're free to go if you want, Andrea. We're armed but we're not going to hurt you. The guns are in case . . . well, let's just say they're insurance. If you stay, it's going to be your choice. But if you go, you'll never see your daughter again.'
'Katie's okay?'
'Katie's just fine. And so long as you do as we say, she'll stay that way. If everything goes to plan, you'll be back with her and your husband within a week or so.' Her voice was soft and persuasive, as if she were selling life insurance and not threatening the life of Andy's only child.
'How much do you want?' asked Katie.
Green-eyes shook her head slowly. 'Hasn't the penny dropped yet, Andrea? Haven't you figured it out?'
Andy looked at her, not understanding. 'What is you want?
If it's not money, what do you want?'
Green-eyes put her gloved hands flat on the table, either side 5O THE BOMBMAKER of the notepad and pen. 'Why, Andrea, we want you to do what you do best. We want you to build us a bomb. A very large bomb.'
Martin sat at his desk, staring at his computer screen. He barely noticed the spreadsheet in front of him. All he could think about was his wife and daughter. He'd arrived at the office at eight o'clock, thinking that Andy might telephone him before she checked out of the hotel. She didn't. The kidnappers hadn't called either. His phone rang and he picked it up. It was Jill, his secretary. 'Martin, it's a Mrs O'Mara,' she said. 'She's from Katie's school.'
'Okay, Jill, put her through.' There was a click, then the woman was on the line. She was the headmistress's secretary,
calling to see why Katie wasn't at school.
Martin thought quickly. If he said Katie was sick, the woman might ask for a doctor's note. An unexpected holiday wouldn't be an acceptable excuse. Besides, it would be very unlikely that Andy and Katie would have gone on holiday without him. 'It's my wife's mother, Mrs O'Mara. I'm afraid she's had a bit of a fall and my wife has had to go up to Belfast and see her. We didn't have anyone to take care of Katie because I'm up to my eyes in work here. We thought it best if Katie went with my wife. It'll only be for a few days.'
He regretted the lie immediately. It was just about possible that the school had Andy's mother's name and address on file,
and all it would take would be one phone call to prove him a liar.
'It's very irregular, Mr Hayes,' said the woman frostily.
'I know, and I apologise for that,' said Martin. 'I should have called you yesterday.'
'Do you know when we can expect to see Katie again?'
Martin wished that he did know. 'I would think three days.
Maybe four. If it's any longer, I'll be sure to let you know, Mrs O'Mara.'
'And your mother-in-law, how is she?'
5i STEPHEN LEATHER 'Poorly. She's in her seventies, so any sort of
'He will, you know. He's already told me that he's got the money ready, and he'll pay. However much you want. So you might as well let Katie go. You can keep me here for as long as you want. Okay?' Andy heard the words tumbling out of her mouth as if they belonged to somebody else.
The green eyes stared back at her. Andy suddenly realised that there was mascara on the lashes. It wasn't a man, it was a woman. She heard a chuckling over her shoulder and she looked around. A large man with a wrestler's build was laughing at her.
Like the woman, he had on a black ski mask that revealed nothing other than his eyes and part of his mouth, and was wearing similar blue overalls which were strained tight against his barrel-like chest. Next to the burly man was a taller, gangly man, also in a black ski mask and overalls. He was wearing pristine white Nike training shoes.
'Have you finished?' asked Green-eyes.
Andy whirled around to face her. 'What?'
'Have you said all you want to say?' said the woman. A Scottish accent, but there was a hint of Northern Irish, too. 'Are you ready to listen?'
Andy swallowed and nodded.
'You're free to go if you want, Andrea. We're armed but we're not going to hurt you. The guns are in case . . . well, let's just say they're insurance. If you stay, it's going to be your choice. But if you go, you'll never see your daughter again.'
'Katie's okay?'
'Katie's just fine. And so long as you do as we say, she'll stay that way. If everything goes to plan, you'll be back with her and your husband within a week or so.' Her voice was soft and persuasive, as if she were selling life insurance and not threatening the life of Andy's only child.
'How much do you want?' asked Katie.
Green-eyes shook her head slowly. 'Hasn't the penny dropped yet, Andrea? Haven't you figured it out?'
Andy looked at her, not understanding. 'What is you want?
If it's not money, what do you want?'
Green-eyes put her gloved hands flat on the table, either side 5O THE BOMBMAKER of the notepad and pen. 'Why, Andrea, we want you to do what you do best. We want you to build us a bomb. A very large bomb.'
Martin sat at his desk, staring at his computer screen. He barely noticed the spreadsheet in front of him. All he could think about was his wife and daughter. He'd arrived at the office at eight o'clock, thinking that Andy might telephone him before she checked out of the hotel. She didn't. The kidnappers hadn't called either. His phone rang and he picked it up. It was Jill, his secretary. 'Martin, it's a Mrs O'Mara,' she said. 'She's from Katie's school.'
'Okay, Jill, put her through.' There was a click, then the woman was on the line. She was the headmistress's secretary,
calling to see why Katie wasn't at school.
Martin thought quickly. If he said Katie was sick, the woman might ask for a doctor's note. An unexpected holiday wouldn't be an acceptable excuse. Besides, it would be very unlikely that Andy and Katie would have gone on holiday without him. 'It's my wife's mother, Mrs O'Mara. I'm afraid she's had a bit of a fall and my wife has had to go up to Belfast and see her. We didn't have anyone to take care of Katie because I'm up to my eyes in work here. We thought it best if Katie went with my wife. It'll only be for a few days.'
He regretted the lie immediately. It was just about possible that the school had Andy's mother's name and address on file,
and all it would take would be one phone call to prove him a liar.
'It's very irregular, Mr Hayes,' said the woman frostily.
'I know, and I apologise for that,' said Martin. 'I should have called you yesterday.'
'Do you know when we can expect to see Katie again?'
Martin wished that he did know. 'I would think three days.
Maybe four. If it's any longer, I'll be sure to let you know, Mrs O'Mara.'
'And your mother-in-law, how is she?'
5i STEPHEN LEATHER 'Poorly. She's in her seventies, so any sort of
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