Zero Option

'Is he going to speak to your boss?' I asked.

'That's right.'

'Great. I'm sure they'll sort it out between them.'

The sergeant looked shattered. 'Never heard anything like it,' he went. 'Never seen a weapon like that out here. Buggered if I have.'

'You live and learn.'

I didn't know what Fraser had told him, and I wasn't going to ask; but now that our practice shoot was partially blown, I reckoned I might as well resuscitate my covert radio.

'I got separated from a colleague,' I explained. 'I'll just see if I can raise him.'

This time the first call produced an answer.

'We're on the RV,' Tony confirmed.

'Has anyone seen or followed you?'

'No.'

'Standby, then. I'll collect you in a few minutes.'

A moment later the sergeant's radio came to life again, and he got a stream of instructions to thin out.

From the way he kept repeating, 'Yes sir, no sir, very good sir,' I knew it must be his boss. At the end he said to me, 'Well, that's it. I'm to leave you alone.'

'Thanks,' I said. 'And you won't talk about this, either?'

I made it sound like a question, but it was more or less an order — and when he said, 'no' he almost added 'sir' again.

'Cheers, then.' Without more ado I closed the boot, got back in the car, swung round and set off for the ERV.

Not knowing quite what the plods had heard, I didn't want them to see Tony come out of the undergrowth with Farrell cuffed to him, so I went back down the road at a fair bat and scorched to a halt under the big tree. Almost at once Tony emerged from the bushes behind it. Even though I was expecting him, he gave me quite a shock, because his face was covered in blood, with sweat-streaks coming down through it.

Farrell's was the same.

'Get in, get in!' I snapped, holding a back door open.

Then, when we were rolling, I asked, 'What happened?'

'Goddamn thorns!' Tony exclaimed. 'We're to bits by the bastards. We got bushed in that thicket.

Jesus Christ — I never knew you had.jungle like that over here.'

Back at the shit-house, it took us a good hour to sort ourselves out and get some breakfast down our necks.

After they'd had showers, Tony and Farrell didn't look too bad. Their faces were scratched, but only superficially, as if they'd been caught on the job by their girlfriends. As I'd anticipated, they'd had a miserable time forcing their way uphill along animal tunnels under hawthorn bushes and through brambles, while the gamekeepers, decoyed by my distraction shot, charged around in the valley below.

As if to confirm my earlier suspicions, Tony told me that Farrell had gone over the moon about the rifle. When he had seen the bullet holes opening up in the white he'nearly pissed himself with delight. Tll tell you one thing,' Tony added. 'Boy, do those rounds make a racket! It's a supersonic crack like nothing on earth. If the Prime Minister gets one of them go close past him he's going to jump a mile.'

'No he isn't,' I said. 'He's going to drop down like a sack of potatoes.'

As soon as I'd got myself together, I called the incident room again.

'I hear you've been advertising, your presence throughout the Home Counties,' said Yorky.

'Bollocks,' I told him. 'We couldn't help it. We did land up in a tight corner, though.'

'Not to worry. The Commander's got it sorted. And you've got your permission.'

'What? For the shoot?'

'Yes. A secure fax from Number Ten came in a few minutes ago.'

Jesus!'

'The Prime Minister has OK'd it. In fact, he's definitely in favour.'

'He must have balls, then.'

'He has. But he's been listening to what Special Branch had to say. They advised him that he's in a dangerously vulnerable position. The threat from the PItLA has intensified, and they can't guarantee to contain it. In other words, they were saying there's a good chance he's going to get bloody shot sooner or later. This operation you've hatched is seen as the best means of defusing the situation.'

'Got it.'

'By gum, you'd better get yourself sorted,' Yorky went on. 'If this goes wrong, it could bring the government down.'

The PM's reaction was what I'd been expecting- what I'd been wanting, really: anything to get me out of this mess. But when the go-ahead finally came through it was a shock all the same.

Yorky hadn't finished. 'So — you're on. But you still may be saved the trouble. The SP team are going ahead with plans to assault the hostage location, just as soon as we've got it pinpointed.'

'What's the latest on that?'

'I'll hand you over to the Commander. He'll fill you in.'

'Geordie?' It was Fraser.

'Hello.'

'I got your local copper straightened out.'

'Thanks. Sorry to come at you out of the blue like that.'

'Don't worry. You shouldn't get any more hassle from the law. Now, listen. As for the hostages: we're concentrating on our second alternative. The flat. It's number fifty-seven Cumberland House, on the fifth floor of a block in

Ellerton Road

, Greenford.'

'Oh, God! You think they're there?'

'There's a good chance. It's a two-bedroomed flat Quite an old block, built in the sixties. Your guys are going to do an outside recce, and meanwhile we're trying to trace the owners of the apartment. Also, we need to get the original architect's plans, so that we know the exact internal layout. The trouble is, the flats aren't standardised — quite a lot of variation from one to another. One minute…'

He paused, as if he was looking through his notes, and then continued: 'Various owners have carried out alterations, as well. The firm that designed the block has been taken over, but we're hoping to find the plans with their successors. Also, we're hoping to occupy number fifty-eight next door, to do a bit of through- the-wall surveillance.'

All at once I felt choked, and couldn't speak. The fact that so many people, all highly skilled, were working away on my behalf, doing their utmost to save Tim and

Tracy… Suddenly it seemed too much.

'Geordie? Are you there?'

I got hold of myself and said, 'Yep.'

'Take it easy, lad. You'll be all fight. Call again when you're back.'

'Will do.'

'Here's Yorky again.'

'OK.'

'What are your plans now, Geordie?'

'Tony and I are offto recce the park. I don't trust the PIRA measurements and details. I need to see for myself.'

'Fair enough. But as soon as you get back, we need a detailed breakdown of your projected movements and timings. OK?'

'Sure.'

Farrell had predictably tried to muscle in on the recce, but I told him there was no way Tony and I would take him with us. 'Walk around the park of the Prime Minister's official country residence with you cuffed to one of us?' I had said. 'Pull the other one. You'd be back in the nick within minutes — and we'd be there with you. You're not walking round on your own, either.'

A few minutes' drive northward through the lanes had brought us within reach of Chequers. It was now 2.30 pm. The day had heated up a good deal but the sky remained overcast, and the air was muggy. I was still high on adrenalin, feeling tense and brittle, both exhausted and hyper-alert at the same time. I'd deliberately left behind the PIRA notes and instructions, but I carried them word-for-word in my mind.

Once again, in an attempt to clear my head, I was bouncing theories off Tony. 'If Fraser's squared things away properly with the local cops, I presume he's done the same with the security force at the house,' I said. 'So we shouldn't get any aggro, either today or tomorrow morning.