Jack was in Intensive Care, there had been complications, but he had a fighting chance. Mandy dozed fitfully in the chair next to his bed and woke with a start as he touched her hand that was draped across him.
‘Jack.’
She moved her chair closer and rested her head onto the bed, he stroked her hair and whispered weakly, ‘Did we get the bastards?’
‘We did.’
His voice was hardly discernible, ‘Moriarty?’
‘Probably not.’
‘The boy in the water?’ he opened his eye, she had made sure she was positioned so his good eye could see her.
‘Critical, but will make it.’ He responded with a gentle nod. ‘They found Osama’s son. They want to come and see you, probably shove a mango up your arse, that’s what I would do; feckin’ ballet.’
‘You didn’t believe me?’
‘No, and I still don’t, you were makin
