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'God's boots!' the Boss exclaimed when I outlined my plar. With his elbows on the desk, he put his face between his hands and dug in his thumbs above his ears, as if to squeeze out the craziness of what he'd just heard. 'Pull the other one, Geordie.'

'No, no. I'm dead serious. We're up to our necks in shit, and sinking. We desperately need a new initiative — and I'm convinced Plan Zulu's the one. As I told Fraser — the SB guy — there'd be virtually no risk to anyone. OK, a couple of vehicles would get damaged and the guys in the meat wagon might get rattled around a bit, but that would be all.'

'What about our reputation? Can't you just see it in the tabloids? “SHOCK! TERROR! SAS SINKS TO GANG WARFARE TO FtLEE IP,A CHIEF”. You'd drop the whole

Regiment in the shit, Geordie.'

'Not if we handled it properly. Nothing need ever get out. It'll be just one more covert operation on the mainland'. There's dozens of others going on already, after all. Covert ops are bread and butter to Special Branch, just as they are to us.'

'That's true.' At last the CO looked up, as if seeing some light at the end of a tunnel. 'I have to say, I wouldn't mind if you gave it a go. But how the hell am I going to convince the powers that be? There's the Director, for a start. I can't see him sanctioning your scheme. He'll go bananas. Then there's the Home Office and the Home Secretary, if we want the police to be involved at high level. And what about the governor of the gaol? He'll throw a major wobbly a well.'

'I don't know,' I said. 'He might be glad to get rid of the bastard. Now that the PIRA know where Farrell is there's a chance that they'll stage a hit on the gaol. The buggers are that mad, you can't tell what they might try.'

'The thing is, they've already got you as a lever.' The CO looked at me steadily before continuing with his list of objections: 'Ultimately, of course, there's the Prime Minister.'

Suddenly I spotted an opening. 'In that case, why not go straight to him?' I suggested. 'It's no business of mine, but we do know he's an old friend of the tLegiment. It's not just that we did him a good turn in Libya. He's been on-side for years.' I pointed at a signed, framed photograph hanging on the wall, one of many official portraits presented by Very Important Visitors, among them Prince Charles and Princess Di.

'Remember the time he came down to the Killing House?'

'Of course.' The CO smiled, thinking about the day we'd given the PM and a couple of senior parliamentary colleagues a demonstration of lifting a hostage from a room in the special building used for training the counter-terrorist team. The — ,vails were hung with sheets of thick rubber so that live rounds could be fired inside. As bullets had hammered close past the visitors in the confined space one of the sidekicks had hurled himself to the deck and pissed himself; but the PM had remained super-cool, and came away mightily impressed.

'If he OK'd it, that would be all we'd need,' I said.

'What about that fax you've just had, after all?'

I sensed that the CO had become rather taken with my idea, so I continued enthusiastically: 'Word would pass down the chain, and everyone else would have to come on board. With Ostrich having gone down so well he might fancy another unattributable operation.'

'Unattributable!' echoed the CO. 'I should think it bloody well would be. The least attributable operation ever mounted by the Regiment!'

To give himselfa moment to think, he started talking about the lack of time. 'According to their last deadline, we've only got until midday on Tuesday,' he said. 'It's Thursday already. Not much room for manoeuvre.'

'Enough,' I said, 'if you can handle the bureaucracy, I guarantee I can manage the logistics.'

I sat back, feeling slightly out of breath, amazed that I was talking to the colonel as if I were of equal rank, planning an operation equally between the two of us.

The truth was, we were both caught up in the excite ment of the idea.

'Well,' he prevaricated. 'What does Special Branch think of it?'

'The Commander thinks I'm crazy. He doesn't realise how easy it would be, but all the same he's coming round to a position supporting me.'

'Does he reckon the regular police would cooperate?'

'I haven't asked him. I expect the answer's no, but as I said it would be a different matter if word came down from the top.'

'The plan's utterly outrageous, of course. I don't think we've a hope in hell of getting it sanctioned.' The CO looked at his watch. 'I'll play fair with you, though.

I'll run the idea through the system. It's now 1035. Give me till lunchtime, OK? Back here at one. Meanwhile, get the bones of your plan on to paper. One of the clerks will do the donkey work for you on a word- processor, but get it all down as briefly as possible in note form. We'll push it up to the Director by secure fax and see what the reaction is.'

I walked out feeling pretty low and extremely tired. I knew the Boss was sympathetic, but he was a realist as well, and it was obvious he didn't think my idea had a chance. I could tell from the look of him that he'd only been humouring me. For a while I walked around outside, trying to clear my head, then I thought, Sod it, I'll get a plan done anyway. I've nothing to lose by that.

In the adjutant's office I grabbed the services of a clerk called Andy, whose grammar and spelling were streaks ahead of mine, and in twenty minutes we'd hammered out the briefing. Back in the incident room I tried to raise my spirits by saying to Fraser, 'Better get your skates on, Commander. It looks like the wagon's going to roll.'

'You're joking.'

'Not entirely. The Boss is taking Plan Zulu seriously.

At least, he's making enquiries at high level.'

'Am I supposed to know about it?'

'He knows I told you my idea, but probably it's better not to say anything until I've been back to him.

We're meeting again at one o'clock to see if we can take it farther.'

To fill in time I sought out Tony. I'd spun him the outline of my scheme during our day in the OP, so there was little need for further explanation. 'If this goes down,' I told him, 'I'm going to make bloody sure you're on it with me. In fact, I hope we can keep the Ostrich team together. We understand each other as well as we ever will; I know we can muster the necessary skills between us. Listen, it may be premature, but why don't we get a few things planned?'

We settled ourselves at a table in the incident room with a road atlas and a notebook.

'Plotting the revolution, are you?' Fraser quipped as he came past.

'More or less. You don't mind us being here?'

'Not at all. You're welcome to carry on.'

Out of the blue there had come into my mind an image of the new bypass round Ludlow, the market town in Shropshire. The road was a single-carriageway but fast and open, curving gently in a wide semicircle, with several miles from one roundabout to the next and no side-turnings in between. A perfect setting for an intercept. There was a similar ring-road round Evesham, I knew — and in a way that would be a more appropriate location, since it would fit in with rumours that the prisoner was being moved to Long Lartin — but the country through which it ran was too flat and open, with too many houses in sight. Ludlow presented a wilder and therefore more attractive option.

'This is the place,' I told Tony, indicating the northern end of the bypass. 'If the police block out other vehicles for five minutes before the convoy comes through, the entire system will be empty. We can.ram the prison van off the road anywhere here. Plenty of room to stage a mock battle, grab Farrell, and away.'

'How do we stop him seeing too much?'