The ensuing racket had echoed down the corridor, and soon Simmonds and Lord B were also on the scene. His Lordship was carrying his revolver. Had Simmonds taken a moment to consider this he may have wondered what exactly Lord B was anticipating, but no such thought passed across his mind.
How exactly it had happened was unclear, but the man now had Piccolo in a strong hold, resting the knife against her throat. This was the frightful sight that greeted Simmonds. He had never been more afraid. Piccolo’s life was more valuable than his own, and now it was under immediate and brutal threat. He was lost. No training had prepared him for this. Piccolo’s very existence depended upon the action he would take. Get it wrong and she would surely die.