He had been looking so hard at Orange that Blue had managed to catch up without Rhino seeing him. He wouldn’t normally fall for something like that. Was he getting old and out of practice, or was he just jet-lagged? He glanced down at his stomach. A hand was pressing a small, wickedly curved knife against him. It had already sliced through his shirt, and he could feel a trickle of warm blood from where the blade touched his skin. ‘Where are we going?’ he asked. He tried turning his head to look at the man with the knife, but the man pressed the knife harder into his stomach and muttered, ‘Don’t try to look at me. Just keep moving forward. There’s a van at the next intersection: we’re all going to get inside it nice and simply.’ ‘Then what?’ ‘Then,’ Blue said, with an amused tone in his voice, ‘there’re some people that want to have a talk with you.’ ‘What about?’ ‘Don’t know and don’t care.’ ‘A movement in the corner of his eye jerked Rhino’s attention to the left.
