Gannon was standing by the window, peering through the bombproof blinds at the empty parade ground, when the Almighty bleeped. It was an authoritative, urgent sound, none of the twee melodies so beloved of mobile phone users. The Almighty's ring broached no argument. Answer me now, it said. This is urgent. Not that Gannon needed to be told the urgency of calls that came through the Almighty. The only people who had access to the Almighty were the Prime Minister, the Cabinet Office, and the chiefs of MI5 and MI6.
Gannon strode over to the satellite phone and picked up the receiver.
"Increment," he said curtly.
"Major Gannon speaking."
The head of MI6 identified herself, and then began relaying instructions to Gannon. Gannon made notes on a pad attached to a metal clipboard which was pre-stamped with "Eyes Only Top Secret. Not For Distribution'.
The call was short, less than two minutes in duration. Gannon repeated the information he'd been given, and then replaced the receiver. The major's SAS staff sergeant looked up from his copy of the Evening Standard.
"Game on," said Gannon.
"Freighter heading for Felixstowe. Interception as soon as it's in our waters. Possible drugs consignment."
"Customs?" asked the sergeant, a fifteen-year veteran of the SAS.
"Spooks," said Gannon.
"Specific instructions not to liaise with Customs at this point."
"They do like their little games, don't they?" said the sergeant.
"Force of habit," said Gannon.
"Since the Iron Curtain went down, they've got bugger all else to do. Still, ours not to reason why. Eight bricks should do it." The Special Air Service and Special Boat Squadron units that the Increment had access to were split into groups of four, known as bricks. Each brick had a vehicle specialist, a medical specialist, a demolition specialist and one other with an extra skill, such as languages, sniping or diving.
"We'll go in with inflatables, no need for choppers."
"Fifty-fifty split?"
"I think so," said Gannon.
"Wouldn't want our lads to think they were being left out of it. No choppers, though, we'll be using inflatables. Get the SBS to pull out a sub skimmer No reason to expect any firepower at their end, but we go in fully equipped." The major looked at his watch.
"Full briefing at eighteen hundred hours."
Donovan found Robbie's sports bag by his bed. He put it on the passenger seat of the Range Rover, and was about to get into the car when he had a sudden thought. He went back into the house and got the portable RF detector and ran it over the outside and underneath of the Range Rover, then climbed into the back and swept the antennae over the inner surfaces.
A car pulled up in the road outside. Donovan looked up, feeling vulnerable. He relaxed when he saw it was Louise, at the wheel of an Audi roadster. She waved and climbed out of the sports car. Donovan wondered what it was about girls who worked in the lap-dancing bars. They all seemed to want to drive powerful cars.
He got out of the Range Rover and waved back.
"I hope you don't mind me popping in on you like this," she said. She was wearing a sheepskin flying jacket and blue jeans that seemed to have been sprayed on to her, and impenetrable black sunglasses.
"Kris told me where you lived."
"No problem," said Donovan. He looked at his watch.
"But I'm just on my way out."
Louise's face fell.
"Oh. Okay. I just wanted to say thanks. Buy you a coffee, maybe." She kept looking at the RF detector in Donovan's right hand while she was talking. Donovan put it in the back of the Range Rover.
"Tell you what, why don't you give me a lift to my boy's school? I've got to drop off his soccer kit. Then you can take me for coffee."
Louise smiled. It was, thought Donovan, a very pretty smile. He'd only seen tears and a trembling lower lip when he'd been around at her flat. She turned and went back to the roadster and Donovan found himself unable to tear his eyes from her backside as she walked. He could see why she was able to afford a car like that. She looked over her shoulder and caught him watching her.
Donovan quickly looked away. He took Robbie's sports kit out and locked up the Range Rover. She was gunning the engine as he got into the passenger seat.
"Nice motor," he said.
"My toy," she said.
"You can navigate, yeah?"
"Does all right, doesn't he?" said Shuker, swinging the SLR camera around to photograph the departing Audi.
"First the blonde, now the brunette. Both lookers. See the body on that one?"
Jenner put down his binoculars and wrote down the registration number of the roadster. The blonde had turned out to be a lap-dancer, and Jenner was prepared to bet money that the brunette was in the same line of business.
"If you had the millions he had, you'd probably have totty like that, too."
"Hey, I do all right," said Shuker, offended.
"Of course you do. Tell them you work for HM Customs and they go all misty eyed, don't they?"
"It's the bike. Birds love bikes."
"Nah, birds say they like bikes until they get married. Then they want you to sell the bike and buy a car."
"Not the sort I go out with. But Donovan, he's got the lifestyle, hasn't he? What do you think the house is worth?"
Two and half. Maybe three."
"Can't they sequester his assets?"
"He's the Teflon man. House is in his wife's name, I think. Or a trust. Untouchable, anyway. Even if anything was proved against him." Jenner yawned. The two Customs officers were working a treble shift and would be in the room for a full thirty-six hours. They took it in turns to sleep on the single bed whenever Donovan left the house, and it was Jenner's turn for a nap.
"What do you think about tagging his car?" asked Shuker, rewinding his film.
"You saw him checking it. No point if he's going to be doing that every day. We'd just be showing our hand. That's what I'm recommending, anyway."
"He knows we're watching him. Operator like Donovan, he knows surveillance as well as we do. And that guy this morning. The nerd. He's got to be counter-surveillance, right?"
"We'll know when the registration check comes back, but yeah, he looked technical. If he is, there's no point in us wiring up the house. Not unless we just want to annoy him."
"I'm up for it," said Shuker
"It's not our call," said Jenner, 'but I'm going to be suggesting laser mikes. See if they'll run to it. I think we'll be wasting our time, though: Donovan's not going to say a dickie bird in his house or on the phone."
Donovan gave Louise directions to Robbie's school. She handled the car confidently and was a far better driver than Kris. She was quick, but whereas with Kris his heart had been in his mouth at her sudden changes of speed and direction, he was able to relax with Louise at the wheel.
"Kris told me what you did," she said.
"Thanks."
"It was nothing."
She flashed him a sideways look and he saw his reflection in the black lenses.
"It was one hell of a thing, Den. You took a risk doing that."
"Nah, he was out of condition. A middle-class wanker."
"That's not what I meant. You weren't scared of ... repercussions. You went right ahead and did what you did. For me."
"Repercussions? Like him wanting to get his own back? Don't worry about that. His type are cowards. That's why they hit women in the first place, to make themselves feel big."
The traffic lights ahead of them turned amber and Louise brought the car to a smooth stop. She reached over and switched on her cassette. Oasis. Donovan smiled at the coincidence. It was the same tape he'd been playing in the Range Rover.
"I meant the police. The cops could have been called, but you weren't worried. You just went right on in."