‘The three terrorists will allow themselves to be captured at times throughout the day which I will specify.
The men looked at each other in puzzlement.
‘Normal security at the site has been suspended for the duration of the exercise,’ said Crowe. ‘When you leave here I will give you four containers. The terrorists will carry with them on the day of the exercise — the ones with the blue marking. There will however, be one other container with red markings.’
‘What do we do with that?’ asked Mr Green.
‘I’m coming to that,’ said Crowe.
When he’d finished, one of the men said, ‘Clever.’
‘What happens to us after we get captured?’
‘The exercise will end when the third man is captured. You will then be released.’
‘And no one will ever know,’ said Mr Brown.
‘Nothing ever happened,’ said another. ‘A triumph for the Territorials.’
‘Quite,’ said Crowe. ‘He turned back to the map and said, ‘I suggest you leave your vehicle here and proceed on foot. The rest I leave up to you. I’m told you are the best.’ He picked up an internal phone and said, ‘I think we’ll have our coffee now if you please.’
Fifteen minutes later all six men left the room and meandered out past Reception talking loudly about key accounts and computer graphics. They walked slowly over the car park to the cars where an insulated plastic container of the sort used for keeping beer cool on fishing trips was transferred from Crowe’s car to the back of the Land Cruiser. Crowe and Mowbray said goodbye to the men before driving off together in Crowe’s car.
‘Well, that all went very smoothly,’ said Mowbray as they exited the car park to join the motorway. ‘I take it you used Everley’s money to pay them?’
Crowe agreed that he had.
‘Everley called me today,’ said Mowbray. ‘He’s getting suspicious.’
‘What about?’
‘He was complaining that the local Tories are not taking him seriously enough when he tells them that there’s going to be a radical change in public opinion coming soon. He thinks they’re not doing enough to benefit from it.’
‘Well spotted, Rupert,’ said Crowe under his breath.
‘What are the arrangements for pay day?’ asked Mowbray.
‘Half the money will be paid into our Zurich accounts when the papers start carrying stories of a strange illness, the other half when it reaches epidemic proportions and general disaffection breaks out.’
‘What happens when Rupert finds out he can’t capitalise on it?’
‘He’ll have to come to terms with it,’ said Mowbray. ‘He’s no stranger to failure and he can hardly go and complain to the authorities.’
‘Suppose not,’ agreed Crowe.
Mowbray’s mobile phone rang and he answered it. Crowe heard immediately that something was wrong from the stream of anxious questions that Mowbray started asking. ‘What’s up?’ he asked as Mowbray ended the call.
‘Pull the car over,’ said Mowbray.
‘We’re on a motorway.’
‘Just stop the car.’
Crowe pulled off on to the hard shoulder and turned off the engine. ‘What is it, for God’s sake?’
‘Two of my agents are being held by the Leicester Police. I sent them to deal with Sebring’s wife. I didn’t want her shooting her mouth off to the papers. Apparently Dunbar was with her when they arrived. He outwitted them and called the police.’
‘Bloody hell,’ said Crowe. ‘What the hell do we do now?’
‘Keep our nerve,’ said Mowbray. ‘I think we can still brass this out but we must keep our nerve. ‘Is there anything left in your lab to link you with the agent?’
‘No, I went to great pains to clear everything out.’
‘So they can’t prove anything,’ said Mowbray. ‘Work on the agent still stopped back in ’91. The accident with the vaccine had to be kept a secret for the sake of the government and national security. If we stick to that line they can’t touch us. Agreed?’
‘Agreed,’ said Crowe.
‘But be warned… they’re going to try.’
Crowe glanced in his rear-view mirror and said, ‘Shit! It’s the police.’
The traffic patrol car pulled off the carriageway and stopped in front of Crowe’s car at an angle. Two officers got out and Crowe wound down his window.
‘Problems, gentlemen? asked the police driver.’
‘Not really, Officer,’ replied Crowe as pleasantly as his nerves would permit. ‘I took a spot of cramp in my right leg. I thought it safest to stop and stretch for a couple of minutes. I was just about to drive off again when you chaps appeared.’
‘Then we won’t detain you any longer, sir,’ said the officer with a smile.
Steven stayed the night with Jane in the Kensington flat that Rose Roberts had arranged as safe accommodation. Neither of them slept much — Jane because she was struggling to come to terms with all that had happened and Steven because he wasn’t at all sure who he could trust any more. Every sound in the night had his eyes moving to the gun that hung in its holster on the end of the bed. Never had the dawn of a new day been more welcome.
Breakfast was a silent affair punctuated with smiles of encouragement, with both of them opting for just juice and coffee although the cupboards in the kitchen and the fridge had been well stocked with just about anything they might have fancied.
‘I’ll be back as soon as I can,’ said Steven as he prepared to leave for the Home Office, holding Jane close and hugging her.
‘Take as long as you like,’ said Jane with a brave attempt at a smile. ‘Just sort this mess out.’
‘Don’t ans-’
Jane held up her hands and said, ‘I think I’ve got the picture. Believe me, I have got the picture.’
Macmillan grimaced as Steven pushed the two IDs across his desk. ‘God, this is hard to believe,’ he said.
Steven followed up with the two automatic pistols he’d taken from the men at Jane’s house. He’d put them in plastic bags. ‘I’d put money on one of them having been used on Michael D’Arcy,’ he said.
‘I’m going to have to take this right to the top,’ said Macmillan. ‘I can’t believe any of this had government sanction. These two must have been pursuing their own agenda.’
‘The one I spoke to behaved as though he were doing his job,’ said Steven. ‘He had the confidence that comes with the ID.’
‘Which could mean that the problem might be further up the chain,’ said Macmillan. ‘Not a happy thought.’
‘It’s all beginning to sound a bit like the situation at Porton,’ said Steven. ‘Everyone’s assuming that everything has official backing.’
‘I’ve been making some progress there,’ said Macmillan. ‘My source has come up with a name behind the Beta Team budget. He’s Sir James Gardiner.’
Steven shook his head and said, ‘Doesn’t mean much I’m afraid.’
‘Right-wing Tory, had his day in the Eighties, very influential. It turns out it was he who resurrected the budget for the experimental team at Porton Down and also instituted the accounting measures necessary to keep it out of the way of prying eyes.’
‘And recruited for it?’ asked Steven.
‘My man didn’t know that but presumably Gardiner had some purpose in mind when he set about putting the funds in place. Whether he had official sanction for it or not is a bit more problematical. It seems that Gardiner was involved in setting up a right-wing think-tank at the time — something he did with a man named Warner, Colonel Peter Warner, and a few others we don’t know too much about although rumour had it that Rupert Everley, the property magnate, was supplying the financial wherewithal for the group.’