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even though she remained unconscious. He hoisted her over his shoulder and took her out into the night. David heard footsteps come down the stairs and then the other man walked past him, carrying his two year old daughter, Gemma, who was also, thankfully, unconscious. David moaned, an animal sound of desperation. The man turned and said, “Bye bye Daddy” in a falsetto voice. He waved Gemma’s little hand at her father and tears welled in David’s eyes as they left him there alone.

    *** 

    Pitt Rivers Museum, Oxford, England.
  May 18, 10.50pm

     A radio hissed, turning Morgan’s attention from the screen. The man at the computer looked over to Jake.  
    “Sir, you need to see this.”
      Jake stepped over to the man’s side as the radio crackled into life. The voice was desperate.  
      “Man down, man down. We’re under attack. I repeat, we’re under attack. Man down. Calling for backup, all units.”
    Morgan felt a chill of fear as she heard the chaos on the radio.  
      “What is it, what’s happening?” she asked, her heart hammering in her chest. She should have gone straight there.  
      Jake turned, his eyes serious.
      “It’s Faye’s house. They must have come for her already. I’m so sorry, my men didn’t get there in time.”
      Morgan stared at the tiny computer screen. It showed her sister’s house, but instead of the quiet scene of the little village, there were men everywhere. She tuned out the sounds of screaming and gunfire, watching in horror as she saw a man running out of the door with the body of her sister slung over his shoulder. Behind him ran a man carrying a small bundle that could only be Gemma. They had taken her family.

Woodstock. Near Oxford, England.
  May 18, 11.35pm

     The ARKANE team arrived at the house twenty minutes later, Morgan with them. She had spent the journey staring out at the landscape, unseeing, fear snaking in her gut. Police were thronging about the house. Jake showed his badge to the officer in charge and they were waved through. Morgan ran into the house ahead of Jake. This was her sister’s haven, a peaceful retreat from the busy city life. Faye had cultivated it out here in Woodstock, far enough away for them to have chickens and fields to stride through with the dogs but close enough to have coffee in Oxford when the sisters had time to catch up. Anger simmered inside Morgan at the people who dared invade their home. This is quiet sleepy Oxfordshire, she thought. This type of thing happened in Israel but not here. Had she brought this terror to them?  
      David was sitting on the sofa in the lounge surrounded by scattered toys and upended furniture. He stared into a mug of tea as a medic examined him, a blanket over his shuddering shoulders. One of the policemen said to Jake in a low voice,
      “They tazered him. He saw the whole thing so he’s pretty shaken up.”
      Morgan knelt in front of him, and spoke in a soft tone,  
    “I’m going to get them back, David. I promise.”
      He looked at her with glazed eyes, shock rendering him barely capable of speech. Morgan reached out to him and then pulled back. There was too much history for this not to be awkward. Her guilt over what had come between them made her even more determined to solve this. David hunched over his mug, tea cold at the bottom. It said ‘best Dad in the world’ and was decorated with baby Gemma hand-prints. He looked at her, his voice breaking with emotion.
      “They’re everything to me, Morgan. Who would want to kidnap them anyway? We don’t have much money.”
      He lent across and touched her hand. Morgan had a sudden flashback of that one night and she jolted away from him. Her guilt grew stronger as she remembered the promise she had made that night never to hurt her sister, to protect her and keep David pristine in her eyes. Morgan had felt helpless then, adrift on what had happened with her sister’s husband and how he made her feel. Now David