Target

'On what charge? So far, all we've got against him is he appears in a photo in a dead man's house.'

'Then we should at least put him under surveillance.'

'Sorry, old mate, but right now we're stretched to the limit. With everything that's going on, I doubt if there's a spare surveillance team this side of Hadrian's Wall.'

Bolt felt his frustration growing. 'Well we'd better find one or all we're going to be left with is more dead bodies and a missing killer who's got away from us again.'

'How did he get away? The Mazda's still there, isn't it?'

'It is. He must have cottoned on to the fact that we were on to him and got himself some other form of transport.'

'Or he's still there somewhere,' said Big Barry. 'We've got people flooding the area, and they're setting up roadblocks on slip roads off the M11.'

Bolt thought this sounded a lot like shutting the stable door after the horse had bolted, but didn't think it was worth pressing the point. Instead, he concentrated on another issue that had been concerning him. 'What I want to know is how come we only picked up the Mazda at junction six. It must have come up on a camera somewhere before that.'

Big Barry sighed. 'It was picked up on the A120 near Stanstead airport twenty minutes earlier, but whoever was meant to be watching for it didn't react quick enough.'

'Shit.'

'My sentiments exactly. But there's nothing we can do about that now.'

'What about the lorry itself? Are we any closer to IDing it?'

'Not yet. Some CCTV images of a possible vehicle have been sent to the FSS for analysis, but we haven't heard anything back yet.'

'At least we know that Hook's been using the blue Mazda, and it was parked overnight in the area the ANPR narrowed it down to, which confirms he's got a base up there somewhere. Since the gas hasn't been released yet, my guess is the lorry will be up there too.'

'It's still too big an area to be of any use to us, Mike,' said Barry. 'We're talking about close to two hundred square miles of north Essex countryside.'

'I've still got Obanje checking through rental properties in the area, but the last time I spoke to him he was snowed under. Can you get him some help?'

'I'll see whether I can move some of your team on to it. What are you going to do?'

'I want to drive up there so that I can be on the spot quickly if we do ID a rental place that looks suspicious.'

'It sounds like it could be a wild goose chase. I could use you back here, old mate.'

But Bolt insisted, knowing that he'd done enough in the past twenty-four hours to warrant being cut some slack by his boss. He also knew he'd be of little use back at HQ, where in effect he'd be sitting round and waiting. He might also be of little use heading up into rural Essex, but at least he'd feel like he was doing something. At that moment he had a desperate urge just to drive.

Big Barry didn't force the issue, so Bolt called Obanje, who'd told him that five of the nine properties whose tenants he'd been checking out in detail were definitely kosher rentals, and he was still trying to find out about the other four. Bolt gave him the good news that he'd now be getting help on his task and wrote down the four addresses still to be confirmed as kosher and rung off.

Mo Khan was making his own mobile phone call a few yards away. He ended it and walked over, unable to completely hide the anxiety on his face. 'I've just been speaking to Saira,' he said wearily.

'How is she?'

'Still blissfully ignorant. Unlike me. I don't know what to do, boss. If anything happened and I could have done something about it…'

'Are she and the kids at home?'

'Yeah, they're all there. My mother-in-law's over at the moment.'

Bolt put an arm round his friend's shoulders and looked him in the eye. 'I know how you feel, Mo, I honestly do. But right now, I think home is the best place for them.'

Mo nodded. 'Yeah, you're probably right. I just wish we had a better idea of who or what they're targeting. Is there any news from HQ?'

'Nothing yet. But I've got the addresses of four suspicious rental properties in the area where the blue Mazda was last night. It's possible one of them could be the one we're looking for. Let's go and check them out.'

Mo didn't look convinced, but he didn't say anything as they walked back to the car.

It had just turned ten past six in the evening. The gas had been in the country for just over twelve hours.

Sixty-two

Paul Wise was sitting on his veranda with his second gin and tonic of the evening when the mobile phone in his left trouser pocket rang. Hook was calling, and Wise wondered what he wanted. He hadn't expected to hear anything more from him until after the job was done, and his mood immediately darkened at the prospect that something might have gone wrong. Charmaine was out with girlfriends in the nearby town of Kyrenhia, and the staff had all gone home, so he took the call from his seat.

'They're closing in on us,' said Hook, his voice calm.

'That's not what I want to hear.'

'I've got rid of Fallon, but he managed to alert the authorities to parts of the operation.'

'What are you saying exactly?' Wise demanded irritably.

'We have everything in place, but we need to bring the timings forward. It's too risky leaving the cargo where it is until ten p.m., and I'm concerned that we're going to have trouble getting it to the target site, so I think we should choose another.'

Wise looked at his watch. It was 8.30 at his home, and darkness had fallen; 6.30 in the UK. The operation, so long in the planning, was beginning to unravel, thanks to the interference of one man. He might be dead now but the obstacles he'd placed in their way were still there.

But Wise wasn't the type of man to worry too much about things he could do nothing about, and the beauty of his plan was that as long as the bomb went off and caused both chaos and casualties (preferably significant), neither the exact location nor the time actually mattered too much.

'Are all the elements we discussed in place?' he asked. 'The ones which will ensure success?'

'Yes.'

'Then move the cargo as soon as is practical. Aim for the target site, but if it gets intercepted, I'm not worried as long as it's still delivered.'

'It will be.'

'Make sure everything gets cleared up, and get rid of the phone you're using. I don't want to hear from you again. When I see confirmation of success on Sky News, you'll receive the balance of your money.'

Wise hung up and stared out to sea, gazing at the patchwork of stars in the night sky. If all went well tonight, he would earn millions. The thought made him smile as he put the gin and tonic to his lips and took a sip, wondering what it would be like to die choking on mustard gas.

Sixty-three

The pain in her foot had reduced to a dull throb, but Tina was feeling faint and desperately thirsty as she lay on her side in the lorry, barely covered by the thin material of the foul-smelling duvet, trying to work out her next move. The three men were still outside talking, their conversation, when she could hear it, boring and innocuous, the light-hearted tone suggesting that their job, whatever it was, was done.

She was torn between staying put in the hope that the lorry would leave eventually, and slipping out the passenger side and making for the barn doors. In the state she was in, weakened and hardly able to walk, the latter course seemed the more risky of the two. But it was difficult to think straight, difficult even to imagine how she'd survived until now.

She tensed, hearing another sound. It was the barn doors opening, followed a few seconds later by his voice, the harsh Northern Irish accent cutting across the barn like a rusty blade. 'What the hell's going on?'