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Tom folded his arms. ‘And the hostel bomb? Genuine reprisal, or…?’

‘Or an attempt to raise the temperature further. Exactly. We’ve had Seven/Seven. We’ve had Woolwich. Each time we’ve stepped closer to the edge of popular outrage. Now the government’s tearing itself apart trying to be all things to all communities, but it’s losing the battle. The whole — ecosystem we’re living in has changed.’

Tom glanced at Phoebe. ‘And you suspect Rolt because he’s gone out of his way to articulate it?’

‘A year ago Vernon Rolt would have been ostracized for talking about removing the extremist element,’ he began, ‘whereas today…’

Tom looked at Phoebe again.

She nodded slowly. ‘He’s extremely secretive, and extremely well connected. He’s worked long and hard to build and maintain his position as a pillar of society. An entrepreneur who’s not only ploughed millions into a good cause but befriended, and championed, a very particular kind of underdog.’

Woolf took up the thread. ‘The underdog with a grievance, with the capacity to turn on his former masters. Potentially, Invicta isn’t just a refuge. It’s the perfect incubator for the disaffected ex-soldier with a grudge to nurture.’

A waiter put his head round the door. ‘Anything I can get you?’

Woolf looked as though he badly needed a drink but Tom wasn’t in the mood to show mercy. ‘We’re fine, thanks.’ He waved the waiter away and turned back to Woolf. ‘Let me get this clear. You believe someone inside Invicta is training former service personnel — people like me — to be terrorists?’

Woolf took a breath. ‘Maybe. That’s what we have yet to verify.’

Tom turned to Phoebe. ‘Well? You’re the one who’s been cosying up to him all these months.’

Phoebe glanced at Woolf, who signalled for her to go ahead. ‘They prefer to think of themselves more as crusaders or freedom-fighters than terrorists. But unfortunately we’re not that cosy. Rolt plays everything close to his chest, as I said. He makes lots of his own arrangements, doesn’t keep records, sometimes avoids using email even. I’m pretty sure he doesn’t suspect me, but he knows that the Service is likely to be watching him, as it does all right-wing groups, so he never lets me see anything sensitive.’

‘So you’ve actually got nothing concrete on him?’

Woolf parried this before she could answer. ‘You know what keeps us spooks awake at night? The white terrorist, the one no one’s looking out for. The one who looks and sounds just like us. The next big one won’t be a bus bombing or a plane, it’ll be a smart surgical strike on people in power and that will need operators who can pass for insiders — who are hiding in plain view.’

‘Except you’ve got fuck-all to implicate Invicta, especially now I’ve shot down your claim about Vestey.’

‘Maybe he recruited the shooter.’

Maybe. You’re clutching at straws.’

‘Straws are sometimes all we have.’ Woolf leaned forward, propping his head on the tips of his fingers, as if fending off a headache. ‘Look, you’ve just spent some time with him. Isn’t there anything about him, about Invicta, that gave you pause for thought?’

Tom stared at him for several moments. The claims were outrageous, bordering on the deranged. Rolt was unusual, eccentric, even. But he had shown Tom respect and confidence, which was more than he could say for his former paymasters. ‘My first impressions are that Invicta’s doing a good job for soldiers who’ve been fucked over or abandoned by the system. Without his commitment and dedication most of them would have been lost, ending up a danger to themselves and a menace to society.’ He stood up. ‘I think we’re done here.’

Woolf held up his hands in surrender. ‘Please, Tom. We need someone on the inside, no disrespect to Phoebe, who can get closer—’

‘One question. Why didn’t you go through the normal channels to try and recruit me? Was that such a crazy idea?’

Woolf shook his head. ‘If we’d gone through the normal channels, at least ten people in the MoD would have had to know. There’d have been emails, forms, countersignatures. Just getting it signed off by your CO, you’d have been blown before we even got airborne. Apart from the DG and a couple of my counterparts, no one knows about this. It’s completely off grid. I couldn’t risk anyone inside the MoD apparatus knowing.’

‘In case they tipped Rolf off?’

‘As Phoebe says, he’s that well connected. He gets one whisper of this, I’m out — and my boss will probably have to fall on his sword too.’

For all Woolf’s pleading, it was still clear to Tom he had been played. Woolf had used him as the Service always used people, like avatars, in a game they thought they could control.

Tom took out his phone. Woolf opened his mouth, closed it again and sighed. ‘Look, I apologize. It was bad judgement. If you make the call to Rolt, I’m history. Invicta will become even more impenetrable and we’ll never know. We won’t even know if we were wrong.’

Tom looked at Phoebe. Her eyes were glistening. ‘This what you signed up for — to fuck over members of the armed forces?’

She didn’t speak but her eyes said it all. Keep this to yourself, please, for my sake as well as yours.

Tom looked at them both. ‘Okay, I’ve heard what you’ve got to say, now piss off.’

Woolf got to his feet. ‘So — will you help us?’

‘I haven’t decided yet. Right now I need a holiday.’

Woolf buttoned his jacket. He looked like a man who could have done with a week’s sleep.

After they had left Tom stayed in the room alone, very still for several minutes. Then he took out his phone and dialled Delphine.

35

Westminster

‘My God, I’m so sorry. The bastards.’ Pippa’s face was a picture of concern.

Not even Nasima’s expert attention could entirely disguise Sam’s bruises. He had done a bit of improvisation with some foundation of Helen’s he’d discovered in the bathroom but the finish was uneven. How did women get that stuff to go on properly? Fortunately the worst of the damage was not on his face or hands. ‘I think they came off worse,’ he joked.

She laughed along but Sam doubted she believed his lie. ‘Well, I’m sure the police will get them.’

‘Ah, I didn’t report it.’

‘Why ever not?’

He felt like saying, You just don’t get it, do you? The assault had been a wake-up call, a reminder of who he really was and where he had come from, but that wasn’t what he had come to talk about.

‘It’s not that simple. There could be reprisals. Look, there’s something I was hoping you could help me with. I’ve been chucked out of my flat.’

It was sort of true. It was only a matter of time before Helen would want the place back. He had decided Pippa was the best person to broach this with. Derek Farmer was the decision-maker but Sam didn’t think he could stand his particular brand of bonhomie just now. Uppermost in his mind was finding somewhere he could also accommodate Nasima. Her imminent arrival in London dominated his thoughts.

‘Oh dear. That’s not good, is it?’ She shook her head in sympathy.

‘Things aren’t as easy as they were, put it that way.’ That much was true. Things weren’t. Everything was different. The attack had knocked away the foundations of everything he held dear, as if he had been punished by some malign force for clinging to his values of tolerance and inclusion. But almost as powerful had been Nasima’s response. First, her concern, the professional way she had taken charge of his injuries. How much his life had changed in just a matter of days. This new job and now this woman. Helen was history. What was the point of having some white trophy girlfriend when there were people like Nasima out there?