Page 167 of The Black Trilogy

“WHO’S EMERSON BLACK?” Mark took another drink of his pint before answering Luke’s question. “Sorry, mate. I keep forgetting you’re not one of us. Basically, the exercise is a simulation of a terrorist attack for several police forces, working jointly. An outside company called Blackwood Security comes in to run it.”

Rob jumped in to help. “Last time, it was a mocked up visit to a racecourse by a bunch of foreign dignitaries. Blackwood sent one team to play the terrorists and another to play the dignitaries, plus there were a few hundred extras pretending to be the general public.”

“Sounds complicated,” Luke said.

Mind you, his alcohol consumption made anything sound complicated right now.

“We were supposed to prevent a terrorist attack,” Mark said. “But Blackwood killed off ninety percent of the dignitaries, eight police officers, and twenty-two of the public. The results got hushed up, so this doesn’t go further than this table, but the upshot is that it was embarrassing. The chief constables are still giving us grief about it. This week’s exercise is similar, except the venue’s a conference centre rather than a racecourse.”

“So, who’s Emerson Black?” Luke asked again.

“Emerson Black’s one of the owners of Blackwood Security,” Rob said.

“And he was tough to beat? Was he one of the terrorists?”

“She, actually. Yes, and yes. She’s possibly the smartest, most devious woman ever to walk this planet. And some other planets too, seeing as the jury’s out on whether she’s even human. They never admitted it, but I’m sure she was the mastermind behind the racecourse debacle. She’s one scary woman.”

Mark shuddered. “Because of the finger thing?”

“That was just one incident. She’s got balls, I’ll give her that.”

“What finger thing?” Luke asked.

Rob and Mark looked at each other.

“I’m not sure we can discuss it with a civilian,” Rob said.

“Look, you just interrogated me over my relationship. The least you can do is give me something in return. And I won’t tell anyone.” Probably he wouldn’t even remember tomorrow if the drinking went as he hoped.

“Okay, okay. So, Emerson Black heads up the Special Projects division at Blackwood, which essentially means she’s psycho-nuts. A couple of years back, they consulted on a kidnapping case I was assigned to. The parents were loaded. The father was some hotshot in the telecoms industry.”

Rob paused to take a swallow of his beer and glanced around. They were sitting in a quiet corner, the buzz around them loud enough that Luke couldn’t pick out an individual conversation, but still, Rob lowered his voice before continuing.

“What I’m about to say goes no further than here, got it?”

“Got it.”

“The kidnapper told the parents not to call the police, so we had to keep our investigation under the radar. We’d got nowhere by the time the boy’s finger arrived in the post.”

Luke popped out in a cold sweat at the memory of Tia’s fingernail turning up in a padded envelope. That poor family—at least Tia’s nail would grow back.

“That’s barbaric.”

“You’re telling me. The kid was five years old. Anyhow, by that point, the father wanted to do something—anything—that would help, and Sergeant Bridges suggested giving Blackwood a call. They charge big bucks, but like I said, the man had the cash, so he hired them.”

“I heard Superintendent Flowers blew his top,” Mark said.

“Yeah, big style. He didn’t like having his toes trodden on. But he couldn’t deny they got results because they found the boy in a day. The arrangement was that when they located him, they’d hand everything over to us.”

“So that was good, right?” Luke asked.

“Yes and no. They called to say the kid was stashed in a townhouse on the outskirts of London, but the super’s an idiot, so while he stood around in the street outside wasting time, it turned into a hostage situation.” Mark put his head in his hands. “The twat actually started yelling at the kidnappers through a megaphone. Honestly, it made me embarrassed to be a copper.”

“What happened after that?”

“Emerson took matters into her own hands.”

“And?”

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