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be fully known. Her brain had been starved of oxygen for a number of minutes, and that meant a fair chance that she would grow to be at least mildly impaired. Any damage had yet to be seen, however, and Gray gave thanks each day that his daughter’s development remained so unremarkable.
    He turned the car onto the dirt track that was signposted Broughton Farm. Another yellow sign warned trespassers to steer clear, and a locked steel gate reinforced the message. Gray used his key to open it, and followed the rutted track until he came to a two-storey house.
    Half a dozen cars were parked off to one side, and Gray pulled into an empty space next to them. He carried Melissa through the front door of the building, which had been converted into a training suite.
    In an office off to the left, he found Sonny Baines sitting at a desk and tapping away on a laptop.
    ‘Morning.’
    ‘Hi, Tom.’ Sonny grinned and gave baby Melissa a wink. ‘How’s it going?’
    Simon ‘Sonny’ Baines was so named because of his youthful looks. He’d looked like a school kid when he’d passed selection for the SAS, and twenty years on he could still pass for a college graduate.
    It had been a while since Gray had seen a smile on Sonny’s face. It was probably owing to Gray’s recent decision to set up a training and evaluation programme for Sonny to run. Doing so had killed two birds: Sonny was finally doing something that enabled him to play with guns again, and Gray got to see his recruits in action, rather than having to depend on references alone. It had been four months since he’d first proposed the idea to Smart, and what followed had been plenty of hard work to get everything organised . Buying the buildings and land, and securing permits for live-fire exercises and renovations had taken a lot of effort and money, but it had been worth it. Sonny was back in his element, and now Gray could pick only the very best operatives for his clients.
    ‘Not too bad,’ Gray said. ‘Just thought I’d pop in to see how the latest batch are getting on.’
    ‘They’re mostly a good bunch. One or two could be putting in a bit more effort, but I think we’ve got some real talent on show. They’re having lunch at the moment, and afterwards I’ll get them together for some shooting practice.’
    ‘I’ll hang around for that if you don’t mind. I miss the smell of cordite in the morning.’
    Sonny opened a drawer and emerged with a tiny pair of ear defenders.
    ‘I got these for Melissa. I knew you wouldn’t come along without her.’
    Gray’s daughter grabbed for the pink, fluffy protective ear muffs, complete with Peppa Pig motif.
    ‘Thanks, Sonny. Though I think she’s more likely to eat them than wear them.’
    As expected, the moment Gray put the contraption on Melissa’s head, she tried to pull it off and put it in her mouth. He tried swapping the ear muffs for her toy sheep, but Melissa was having none of it.
    ‘I think we need two pairs,’ Sonny said. ‘One for her ears, the other for her lunch.’
    Gray agreed. ‘So maybe I’ll skip the range today.’
    ‘Why not just strap her into her car seat for a few minutes?’
    ‘No, thanks. I’m not leaving her alone, not even for a minute.’
    Sonny sat in his chair and leant back. ‘You know, you mollycoddle her too much.’
    Gray shrugged. ‘Daddy’s privilege.’
    ‘I know, but the time will come when you’ve got to let her go.’
    ‘Not necessarily.’
    ‘What about nursery?’ Sonny asked. ‘Or school? Are you going to sit in on her classes? Don’t you think the other kids might notice the menacing six-footer in the corner?’
    Gray conceded the point. It was something he thought about every day, but that all seemed so far in the future. Eventually he would have to cut her loose and let her start growing up like any other child, but it just seemed too soon. The painful memories of his wife’s death still haunted his dreams, and his personal vow never to let his