'Mobile, north London. That's all I've got. If he's following the same MO as yesterday, he'll have switched the phone off by now.'
But Bolt was no longer listening. Pressing his mobile to his ear, he put a call in to Barry in the control room. 'It's on,' was all he said. Then, as he followed Andrea out of the room, he called the surveillance team leader outside.
'It's clear,' came the reply.
'We're on the move,' Bolt told him.
'Good luck.'
I'm going to need more than that, Bolt thought as he hung up. But for the first time in over twenty-four hours he felt better. He was taking charge of a well-rehearsed operation. The stakes were higher than he'd ever known, but at least it was now up to him.
'The mobile he called on was a different one from yesterday,' said Turner, coming out of the study, 'and it is already switched off. Somewhere in N17, not far from yesterday's.'
'Good work, Matt.'
'I want to come with you.'
Bolt looked at him.
'Please, boss. I don't want to stay here.'
There was no time to argue.
'All right, you can come with me and Mo.'
Bolt grabbed the holdall containing the money, and once Andrea had retrieved her keys from the kitchen, they left the house together. The money was heavy and he struggled to keep up with her as she ran down the street to her car. He pulled open the door and dropped it into the passenger seat as Andrea switched on the engine and hurriedly fed Munroe Drive N7 into her sat-nav. She looked terrified, but focused. He wished her luck but she didn't even glance his way. Instead she leaned over, shut his door and pulled away from the kerb.
One minute had passed.
'I'll drive,' Bolt announced, jumping in the Jag with Mo and Turner.
He shoved in his earpiece, switched on the loop mike he was wearing round his neck, and then they were away, doing a rapid three-point turn in the middle of the street. A middle-aged couple walking arm in arm stopped and watched them curiously. Lucky sods, Bolt thought. Not a care in the world.
There were five surveillance cars and two motorbikes involved in the convoy. As with all surveillance ops, they would switch position constantly so that no one vehicle stood out, just in case the kidnappers had decided to tail Andrea themselves. All communication would now be done by radio, using call signs, so that every person involved could hear what was being said and be able to act accordingly.
Bolt got into position behind a Toyota Auris with Tina Boyd and Kris Obanje inside.
'I think our targets are getting paranoid,' said Mo. 'Munroe Drive's a dead end.'
'Shit. They're obviously checking for tails. We're going to have to be very, very careful here.'
He turned right out of Andrea's road, pulled over while another of the surveillance cars overtook him, then accelerated, his fingers drumming on the wheel as the tension coursed through him. He looked at his watch.
Two minutes.
They turned again, this time on to the Finchley Road, heading north in the direction of the North Circular. Traffic was steady rather than heavy and one of the surveillance bikes roared past them, disappearing into the distance and tucking in behind Andrea's Mercedes, which was fifty yards ahead and weaving in and out of the lanes, moving fast. The surveillance vehicles would be travelling both behind and in front of her, so she could be kept under the eyeball at all times, but her speed and the erratic nature of her driving were making it difficult for them.
Bolt leaned against the window looking skywards, hoping that Barry was being true to his word and keeping the helicopter back and out of sight. Even in a sprawling city like London, where helicopters are a common sight, it would stick out a mile to the kidnappers. But today the sky was clear.
Three minutes.
Up ahead, the lights went amber. Andrea accelerated through them, just as they went red, the surveillance bike going through just behind her. The two cars in front of Bolt stopped, giving him no choice but to do the same. He cursed, and his finger-tapping on the seat intensified as he counted the seconds in his head as Andrea's car disappeared from sight.
One, two, three . . . thirteen, fourteen, fifteen . . . twenty-two, twenty-three . . .
'Come on, come on,' he hissed.
As the lights turned green again, there was a crackle of static in Bolt's earpiece and a voice came on the line amid a lot of background noise.
'Bike two to all cars, target has just turned into Clearland Road, leading to Munroe Drive. Am taking the next road along, Boothby Avenue. Have lost eyeball.'
Tina's voice broke in. 'Car two to bike two, we're thirty seconds behind. Will turn into Clearland and take the eyeball.'
Four minutes.
Bolt accelerated, cutting inside to overtake the two cars in front before pulling back into the outside lane. He was making up ground fast but they were still way behind.
And then from inside their car they heard the sound of Andrea's mobile ringing, the mike on her blouse picking it up. They heard her say 'hello' and then the kidnapper's voice came on the line, faint but audible.
'Where are you?' he demanded, the voice warped by the suppressor.
'I'm just turning into Munroe Drive now.'
'Drive to the end. Stop outside number twenty on the left. There's a green Renault Scenic parked directly outside. In the driver's-side wheel arch, on top of the tyre, is a package. Pick it up and leave this phone in its place, making sure you switch it off. Then get back in your car and open the package. There'll be two items inside, one of which is another mobile phone. Turn it on, and you'll be called on it with further instructions. In the meantime, drive up to the North Circular and turn right, heading east.'
The line went dead.
'Christ, these guys aren't taking any chances, are they?' said Turner in the back.
Bolt shook his head angrily. 'The bastards know something. They must do.'
'How?' asked Mo. 'We've kept everything under wraps.'
'God knows. But they know. I'm sure of it.'
Tina's voice came over the airwaves, interrupting them. 'Car two to all cars. Target has stopped near bottom of Munroe Drive. She's picked up the package, and she's getting back in. She's turning round and coming back up Munroe Drive. Now turning left and heading back towards Finchley Road.'
'We'll take the eyeball,' said Bolt as he pulled over just before the entrance to Clearland Road, waiting for Andrea's Mercedes to emerge.
Seconds later, she pulled out of the junction, heading north, her driving even more erratic than it had been earlier.
'Car one to all cars,' announced Bolt, 'we're following the target north on Finchley Road, three cars back. She's driving fast. I can't get a good view, but it looks like she's on the phone. Her mike's not picking anything up so she can't be speaking.'
'Shit,' cursed Mo. 'What the hell's she doing?'
'Oh no,' said Bolt.
Barry's voice came over the radio, urgent. 'What's going on?'