Chapter Thirty

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Martin watched her as she turned around to face him, the phone placed securely to her ear. It was a shame, he thought. She was a good person, he enjoyed her company, they had wonderful memories.

Her eyes bored into him. She had dealt with many evil criminals, but not unarmed in her own home. She felt naked and vulnerable, but not afraid. Fear was what he thrived on and she was not going to give him that satisfaction. Her brain worked overtime as she planned a way to get past him. If she could get to her study, retrieve her gun, and then she would have the upper hand.

He lunged across the room towards her with the knife raised. Morgan quickly dropped the phone and a scream escaped her lips as she dodged him. His hand grabbed the back of her shirt and pulled her back to him. The cuff dug into her neck and caused her to choke. She spun and kicked her heel into his groin. Martin fell to his knees holding his groin with one hand. She bolted out of the bedroom and to the front door. To her horror, he had locked it and removed the keys. She was running out of time.

The keys must be in the kitchen, she thought. She darted in the hallway towards the kitchen. A hand gripped her hair and pulled violently. She let out a yelp as Martin pushed her against the door frame of the kitchen and living room. The left side of her face exploded in pain and her vision started to dot.

Martin threw her to the wood flooring. Her hands flayed out in front of her to make the impact softer. He watched as she tried to crawl further into the kitchen. Her breathing was heavy, and her temples stung.

He lifted his foot, and with all the force inside him, he stamped violently on her right calf.

An ear-piercing scream erupted from Morgan as the bone cracked in half under the flesh. No tears escaped as the white-hot burning pain shot through her leg and into the rest of her body like a bullet.

"I have to say Morgan," he paused and crouched to her level. "You'll be my favourite kill."

*

"Yes, I need an ambulance sent to 15 Jamestown Road, Camden Market, NW1 7BA. The flat number is 207." Hallie spoke to the operator.

"Is the patient breathing?" A bored voice responded to her.

Hallie rolled her eyes. They really are hiring anyone to answer the calls now, she thought.

"I'm not with the patient, so I don't know."

"We can't dispatch an ambulance until we know the severity of the incident."

She pushed back into her chair and rubbed her forehead as she let out a long sigh. Morgan was in danger and she was quickly running out of time.

"I understand that, but a member of my team is locked in her flat with a deranged killer."

"You'll need police. If you want, I can pu-"

"My name is Hallie Carter; I am the forensic technical analyst from the Serious Crime Unit. Detective Chief Inspector Morgan Chester is being held hostage by a killer we have been investigating. A fire team on our end is on route to her, but we will need medical assistance. This man is dangerous and has murdered four women, very brutally may I add. You are denying us an ambulance to help save our colleague and it is interfering with our investigation. Believe me, I can write a fantastic report to your supervisor of how unhelpful you are. Do you understand me?"

Hallie took a deep breath to compose herself. It was rare for Hallie to lose her temper, but she had enough of waiting. The line was quiet. She hoped they had not hung up on her.

"An ambulance has been dispatched to the address. It should be arriving in under 10 minutes." The voice confirmed.

She let out the breath she was holding in. The call disconnected and she quickly tracked Cole's car. He was by Kings Cross Station. He picked up after two rings.

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