Panic

She smiled weakly and began to sob. He put his arm around her, and the three of them sat in silence. After a few minutes, Leopold heard ambulance sirens approaching from a distance and got to his feet.

“Let’s get out of here,” said Leopold. “I don’t have the energy to answer questions. We’ve got enough medical supplies at home to fix me up.”

“What about Mary?” said Jerome.

“I’ll call her later. I’ve got work to do.”

The consultant stood and began to walk shakily away, in the opposite direction to the sound of the sirens. Jerome said goodbye to Christina and followed close behind. He called for a car to pick them up from the west entrance.

“What if Stark was just messing with you?” said the bodyguard, catching up.

“What if he wasn’t? Only a handful of people on the planet know that name and what it means. And if it is true, we’ve got a lot more trouble coming our way. This won’t be the last of it.”

The bodyguard put his heavy hand on Leopold’s shoulder and turned him around. “Don’t let this get to you. Whatever happens, we’ll be ready.”

Leopold nodded. He knew his old friend was right. There was very little he could do for the moment. He could make out the cemetery gates now; just a few more minutes of excruciating pain and he wouldn’t have to walk anywhere again for a while. When he was feeling up to it, he might even give Mary a call and see if she wanted to have di

In the meantime, there was a soft bed and hard liquor waiting for him at home, a tried and tested cure for broken bones and head trauma. The thought of spending some time off the grid brought a smile to Leopold’s face, despite the pain in his ribs and the throbbing in his head. He was looking forward to a well-earned rest; but in the back of his mind he knew it wouldn’t last long.

Epilogue

His real name was a secret that many had died to protect. And he was furious. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this; there was no room for failure. He could feel the anger welling in his stomach, he could feel his jaw clench and his teeth grind as his fists shook with uncontrollable rage.

All the pla

He drew a deep breath and let the anger leave his body. It wasn’t a productive response right now. He remembered Sun Tzu and repeated the lesson over and over in his mind. The supreme art of war is to subdue the enemy without fighting.

He felt his pulse slow and his breathing return to normal. Now was not the time for anger. Now was the time to press his advantage. He went to his desk and sat down at the computer, finding the telephone number he needed in seconds. He dialed the number and the call went through. He heard someone answer on the third ring.

“Leopold Blake speaking,” said the voice on the other end of the phone.

He paused before replying, letting the moment sink in. Know thy self, know thy enemy. A thousand battles, a thousand victories. He lifted the receiver closer to his lips and spoke, deep and clear.

“Hello, son.”

THE END

PANIC

A Leopold Blake Thriller

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Turn the page for a sneak preview of the next Leopold Blake thriller: Departed.

DEPARTED A Leopold Blake Thriller

By Nick Stephenson

SAMPLE CHAPTERS

Chapter 1

A human body plummeting from a cruising altitude of thirty-five thousand feet takes three minutes to hit the ground. The low pressure and lack of oxygen causes loss of consciousness for most of the fall, with the average person waking up just a minute or so before smashing into the ground at over one hundred and twenty miles per hour. Not a pleasant way to die.

Leopold’s mind swam with a variety of horrific scenarios as he squeezed his eyes shut even tighter and gripped the arm rest of his seat. The flight had been largely uneventful, but the recent bout of rough turbulence over Newfoundland had shaken his reserve.

“Are you okay?” a soft, calm voice asked.

Leopold opened his eyes and glared at Mary, who hadn’t stopped fussing over him since they had sat down. He regretted not seating her in coach.

“I’ll be fine,” said Leopold, harshly. “When you’re as familiar with aerospace engineering as I am, it’s impossible not to be concerned about the thousands of tiny things that could go wrong and drop us out of the sky.”

“Fine, be like that,” said Mary, turning back to her magazine. “But we’ve got another five hours before we land in London, and I’d rather not spend the entire flight with you in this mood.”

Leopold grunted and gripped the armrest a little tighter. The first class cabin of the brand new Dreamliner 787 was state-of-the-art and spacious, but the tasteful luxury did nothing to calm his nerves. He waved to one of the flight attendants, who brought him over another glass of scotch. Leopold downed the healthy measure and felt the musky heat rise in the back of his throat. He exhaled slowly and sank into his chair. His respite didn’t last long.

“You must have some idea why we’ve been called out to Scotland Yard,” said Mary, twisting to face Leopold over the partition that separated their seats. “The London Metropolitan police have their pick of forensic and criminology experts. Why bring in someone else?”

Leopold sighed. “Because I’m the best at what I do.”

“And so modest,” said Mary. “But why bring me?”

“My contract is with the FBI, and they’re leaning on your boss for extra resource. Apparently, they can’t spare anyone at the moment. Which is where the NYPD comes in.”

Mary rolled her eyes. “So I’m just the babysitter?”

“That all depends on what we find when we get there. Scotland Yard refused to give me any details on the case. We’re going in blind on this one.”

“Let’s make sure we play this one by the book,” said Mary, sitting back in her chair. “We don’t want to make the FBI look bad, now, do we?”

Leopold was sure he detected a note of sarcasm, but he chose not to press the matter.

“You must be expecting something, if you’ve brought him,” said Mary, pointing to Jerome, who was watching their conversation from the back of the first class section.

“Wherever I go, Jerome goes,” said Leopold. “In my line of work, it pays to have personal protection at all times.”

“Does he ever sleep?” asked Mary.

“I think so,” said Leopold. “But I’ve never seen it myself.”

Leopold turned to look at Jerome, who was sat serenely in his chair, itself barely large enough to contain his muscular frame. Jerome was dressed in his usual elegant Armani suit, specially tailored to accommodate concealed firearms without leaving a tell-tale bulge, and was wearing a pair of headphones that Leopold suspected weren’t co

“Just make sure your head is in the game,” said Mary, as Leopold turned back to face the front. “After that phone call, I can understand if you’re not one hundred percent.”