“Who's tracking what?” asked Adam, leaning over to try and hear better. The road surface had changed and roughened, increasing the constant hum of the tyres over the tarmac.
“I said, they're tracking your phone, or at least, I think they are.”
“How the hell do you know that?” shrieked Adam, his voice an octave higher than he would have liked.
“I don't know, it's just a hunch. The number was from a blocked call and they only let it ring once. Calling your phone would have made it register on the network.” Sam paused for a minute, thinking it out again. He was desperately trying to remember back to the many close protection courses he'd done after leaving the army. He had covered this – how it was possible to locate a kidnap victim if their phone was switched on. “There are programs out t
