Extreme Prejudice: A Lambeth Group Thriller

By Gordon Bickerstaff

A foreign embassy official warns the UK government of a bomb attack on London. Zoe Tampsin's Lambeth Group team is launched into a race against time to find the terrorists.

As Zoe unpicks the details, she suspects the informant didn't tell her the whole story. With time running out, her team chase a promising lead only to have it wrenched from their grasp. Either the bombers were incredibly lucky, or they received a tip-off.

One of her team infiltrates the bombers. She discovers the attack has started, and her colleague Gavin Shawlens is missing, presumed killed by the terrorists.

While searching for Gavin, a massive disaster unfolds. Can Zoe stop colossal loss of life in a small community and prevent the collapse of a key pillar of society?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Gordon Bickerstaff
• Release date: Mar 18, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201798970

Gordon Bickerstaff

Gordon Bickerstaff was born and raised in Glasgow but spent his student years in Edinburgh. On summer vacations, he learned plumbing, garden maintenance, and he cut the grass in the Meadows. He learned some biochemistry and taught it for a while before he retired to write fiction. He does some aspects of DIY moderately well and other aspects not so well. He gets very tired when it's time to clean up the mess. He lives with his wife in the west of Scotland where corrupt academics, mystery, murder and intrigue exists mostly in his mind. He is the author of the Gavin Shawlens series of thrillers: Deadly Secrets, Everything To Lose, and The Black Fox. He enjoys walking, 60s & 70s music, reading and travel.

Book preview

Extreme

Prejudice

If you fear trouble, don’t get into trouble

––––––––

Gordon Bickerstaff

––––––––

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Lambeth Group Thriller

Extreme Prejudice

If you fear trouble, don’t get into trouble

A foreign embassy official warns the UK government of a bomb attack on London. Zoe Tampsin’s Lambeth Group team is launched into a race against time to find the terrorists.

As Zoe unpicks the details, she suspects the informant didn’t tell her the whole story. With time running out, her team chase a promising lead only to have it wrenched from their grasp. Either the bombers were incredibly lucky, or they received a tip-off.

One of her team infiltrates the bombers. She discovers the attack has started, and her colleague Gavin Shawlens is missing, presumed killed by the terrorists.

While searching for Gavin, a massive disaster unfolds. Can Zoe stop colossal loss of life in a small community and prevent the collapse of a key pillar of society?

Other stand-alone books in the series (in order of publication)

Deadly Secrets

Everything to Lose

The Black Fox

Toxic Minds

Tabula Rasa

Tears of Fire

Die Every Day

The Belgravia Sanction

Extreme Prejudice

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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organisations, places, and events are used fictitiously, or are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or actual events or locales is not intended, and is entirely coincidental.

The moral right of Gordon Bickerstaff to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with Copyright, Design and Patents Act, 1988.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form, or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without permission in writing from the publisher. First published in October 2021 by Gordon Bickerstaff.

Extreme Prejudice ©Gordon Bickerstaff 2021.

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Acknowledgements

Special thanks to Emily, Pamela and Natalie for inspiration, support, chocolate, and coffee. Thanks also to readers who gave feedback on the first seven books. I’m humbled by readers who take time to write reviews, and help me to improve my stories.

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‘The best way to find out if you can trust somebody is to trust them.’

Ernest Hemingway

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Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

Chapter 49

Chapter 50

Chapter 51

Author

The Lambeth Group

Story Notes

Lambeth Group Thrillers

Chapter 1

Lochwinnoch, Central Scotland

Saturday, August 14th

‘Wait!’ Kacey McCann squealed. ‘Need to catch my breath.’

She rested her hands on her thighs, wheezed, and gulped the fresh afternoon air.

Standing in the middle of a narrow lane, she glanced at two clouds hurrying across a light blue sky as if they had somewhere to go. She checked the watch pinned to her top. It was a nurse’s pin-fastening silver fob. Sixteen minutes ago, she should have reported to her boss at Serennity House after a tea-break.

‘Hurry up, Kace. You’re gonna get us caught,’ Jeff shouted.

His anxious voice punctured the soft tranquillity in the lane and sparked a torrent of sharp chirruping from birds in a hedgerow. Goodness knows what they were doing, but they didn’t like Jeff’s sharp voice.

He waited at a wooden stile, and when she caught up, he helped her climb over and into a grass field.

With relief on his face, Jeff pointed to the hedgerow on the opposite side of the field. ‘Nearly there.’

A gust of wind lifted her hair and spurred them on. Kacey followed as fast as she could, and they dashed forward until they met heavy going through soft muddy soil.

Jeff ploughed on, unconcerned about splashes on his jeans and denim jacket.

Wet grass and puddles soaked her blue canvas flats, and mud splashed onto her uniform. Her legs ached, and she slowed to long strides.

Five metres ahead, Jeff pulled up and turned back to check on her. ‘Kace. Toddlers in the egg-and-spoon race move faster than you. Take a memo. Give up the fags.’

Kacey waved him on, then veered left to find firm ground to walk on. She pulled a phone and speed dialled a number. ‘White Pepper. This is Green Pepper. Five minutes.’

Liam replied, ‘I’m here. I can see you through the hedgerow. I’ve been waiting for forty minutes. Hurry up.’

When Jeff arrived at the other side of the field, he pushed branches apart to make a gap in the hedgerow for them to squeeze through. Before entering the hedgerow, Kacey turned to scan the field behind her. She smirked and let out an urgent grunt when she didn’t see anyone chasing them.

Waiting behind the hedge, Liam pulled and guided them through. The single narrow track where he parked his camper van was passable by one car at a time. If a tractor came down the track, their quick getaway would fall apart.

Jeff eyed Kacey’s backside as she wiggled through the hedge. He fell in love with her on their first assignment and jumped at every opportunity to work with her. Before he followed, he checked he didn’t drop any of his equipment in the field.

As soon as Kacey cleared the other side, Liam pulled the side door of his ten-year-old Volkswagen Grand California camper van. Kacey dived inside, followed by Jeff, and they burst out laughing like two kids who stole a basket of eggs from the farmer’s henhouse.

Liam slammed the door shut, looked up and down the track, then slipped into the driver’s seat. He was a bald, crackly voiced man with a permanent smile and a cheerful outlook on life. Waiting anxiously made him perspire, and damp patches formed in the armpits of his beige polo shirt.

Before starting the van, Liam glanced back. ‘Are we good?’

Jeff nodded as he checked his camera. ‘Most excitement I’ve had in months.’

Kacey squealed and pointed forward. ‘Move. They know I’m AWOL.’

Liam started the engine and edged the van along the single-track lane. ‘Kace, did you hit the jackpot?’

Excitement pinged her voice. ‘Not only the scoop of the century, and then some, but a video confession from a teenager that will nail Cartwright to the wall.’

Twice, in recent years, she missed out on the UK Press Awards for crime journalism. But she believed this one had everything to guarantee success. A high-profile fraudster, plenty of sobbing victims, and a follow-up campaign calling for legislation to outlaw medical scammers. All the elements played in her mind, and she wanted to sit at her desk and thrash the story out.

‘Really?’

‘Yesterday, I met a group of young boys. One of them with a strong French accent. I was curious about what Cartwright was doing with teenagers. They assumed I was staff and opened to me. When I got one on his own, I spoke to him in French, and he told me what Cartwright does behind closed doors.’

Jeff raised his camera. ‘That’s why I sneaked in today to record the interview,’ he said. ‘Nineteen minutes of raw dialogue will cut down to sixty seconds of explosive prime-time TV.’

‘Confirms all the other stuff I gathered. Did you pass my message to the paper?’

Liam glanced at Kacey. ‘Of course. The proprietor wants a meeting. I’m to take you to his country house. He wants to see what you’ve got.’

Jeff rubbed his hands together. ‘This is it, Kace. The scoop of the decade. Forget the Sunday supps. This will run for weeks on the front page.’

Kacey said, ‘He won’t be disappointed. I just hope he’s got the balls to light the blue touch-paper and enjoy the fireworks.’

Slowly, the camper eased out of the secluded country lane, and crossed a junction into another single track that led down a steep trail to the main carriageway heading north to Paisley.

From his position high on a hill, Liam could see the A760 in the distance. In his mind, he mapped out his journey.

Five minutes on the A760 out of Lochwinnoch to reach the Roundhead Roundabout, then straight over to the A737. Just a short stretch on this carriageway to reach the M8 heading to Glasgow, and a further thirty minutes before joining the primary artery heading south to England, the M74.

Relief surged through his body. Investigative journalism jobs with Kacey always took them to the edge, and this one was no exception. He drove slowly through unavoidable ruts filled with rainwater to unknown depth. The van lurched when a front wheel rolled into a deep pothole.

‘Wow,’ Jeff said. He caught her as she slid off her seat.

It was the kind of close physical contact he dreamed about, but didn’t have the courage to pursue. He knew his place was beside her, but not in her arms.

Kacey was smart, good-looking, and fiercely ambitious. She didn’t have time for men searching for a housekeeper, nanny, head cook, and bottle washer.

Jeff was tall and lean with tallow-hair and an oval face that radiated kindness and appeal. People warmed to him and often helped him take amazing pictures in dangerous places.

Liam glanced back. ‘Sorry. This is tractor country. You can paddle in these potholes.’

Gusts blew north south over the track, causing hedgerows on either side to shudder. Not unusual weather for mid-August in Renfrewshire.

Liam said, ‘Kace. I want to stop off in Glasgow. I need to grab a birthday present for my daughter.’

‘No problem. We can grab a coffee. I need to make a few calls,’ Kacey replied.

She kicked off her wet and muddy flats and rested her foot on Jeff’s lap. ‘My back is aching. Will you be a love?’

Jeff smirked as he grabbed a dishtowel and dried each foot.

She changed out of her housekeeping uniform and into jeans and a peach sweatshirt. Primly aware that her underwear sent Jeff’s heart racing. He’d seen her bra and pants before when she pranced around during her wild parties, and his imagination did the rest. After every assignment, she threw a party for friends and colleagues. He expected the next one to last a weekend.

Kacey was petite, husky-voiced, with shoulder-length blonde hair, and a beguiling smile like everyone’s idea of a charming girl next door. But she was volatile. Her mood could flick in an instant to release a screaming banshee. A well-known investigator in newspaper circles who was famous for her tenacity when chasing down a story, and infamous for her flamboyant private life.

As the camper waggled slowly down the steep lane, a BMW 5 approached from behind. Liam focussed on the junction ahead and the fast-moving A760 traffic.

Shedding her uniform brought relief to Kacey, and her thoughts set out the order of the piece she planned to write. Her mind sorted and organised the memories, emotions, and stories she gathered during the past six days working undercover.

‘This exposé will make you famous,’ Jeff said.

‘I expect Cartwright will pull every lawyer in the country to his defence,’ Liam said.

Kacey sniggered. ‘He can deny and squirm all he wants. I have undeniable proof of serial blackmail. The video is a fucking massive smoking gun. The newspaper’s lawyers are scarier than his puny gang.’

Jeff chimed in. ‘Many of Cartwright’s followers will be shocked when they hear what the boy says about what he was doing in Lochwinnoch.’

Liam said, ‘Be prepared. His ardent followers won’t believe a word.’ Throwing a quick glance at Kacey, he said, ‘They’ll tear you apart on social media. Protests outside your door. I hope you’re ready for a sharp backlash.’

She laughed loudly. ‘Bring it on. The more publicity the better.’

Kacey jerked forward as Liam floored the brakes.

‘JESUS.’ He shouted as a bright yellow Kubota tractor pulled out of a field and swerved onto the lane. Instinctively, Liam blasted his horn.

The tractor stopped seven metres in front of them.

Jeff raised his camera, aimed through the windscreen, and captured the back of the tractor with a burst shot.

The BMW screeched to a halt behind the camper.

In his wing mirrors, Liam spotted two men jump out and rush to them. They wore light grey slacks, white shirts with Serennity House emblem neckties, and dark blue blazers with gold thread initials JCC sewn into the breast pocket.

‘Shit. We’ve got company.’

Kacey peeked out from behind a curtain. ‘Damn. They moved faster than I expected.’ She checked the time and shifted her eyes to Jeff. ‘How the hell did they do that?’

She recognised the security men from Serennity House. Dennis Peaty, the short, bald, flat nose, stocky one. He wore a thin beard that emphasised his cheek line.

His dark-skinned mate with thick wavy hair and dark eyes was Paul Carver.

Carver opened the driver’s door and grabbed the steering wheel. ‘Move,’ he said, and pushed Liam to the passenger side before he climbed into the driver’s seat.

Peaty dragged the side door open. He reached inside, grabbed Jeff’s denim jacket, hauled him out, and pushed him to the ground.

Jeff used his body to protect his precious Canon EOS R5 and long-range lens.

Peaty pushed Jeff along the side of the van to the rear.

‘Gimme that,’ he demanded as he grabbed the lens body and yanked the camera out of Jeff’s hand.

Peaty pulled the strap on Jeff’s shoulder, but Jeff hauled back. Peaty released the strap, dropped the camera, reached inside his jacket, drew a handgun, and pointed it at Jeff’s face.

Joe Black, head of security at Serennity House, arrived at the side door and peered inside. He looked more dapper with a smart dark suit and a dark grey collarless shirt.

He faced Kacey. ‘Going somewhere, McCain? You didn’t finish your shift.’

She sighed and grimaced. ‘Mr Black, there’s no need for violence.’

Kacey met Joe Black on her first day when he outlined security procedures and the importance of keeping guests and clients safe. To avoid scrutiny of her lack of interest in the job, she avoided him when she could.

Liam threw Carver a bemused look. With a tractor in front and the BMW behind, the camper wasn’t going anywhere on this single track. He’d been in awkward situations before and always bluffed his way through. He smiled and hoped his cheery face would calm everyone down.

As a photographer whose work took him to war-torn countries, Jeff had a strong sense of self-preservation. He knew how to keep out of trouble. He learned to read the danger signs in people’s eyes. This time, fear gripped his throat like a clamp. He wiped beads of sweat from his forehead and pressed his elbows into his side.

The vibes from these security men revealed an anger he might have expected if he’d raped someone’s daughter. Their rage fuelled a powerful sense of foreboding. Like being accused of murder when all you did was run a red light.

Hyperventilating, Jeff released the strap on his bag and raised a panicky voice. ‘Kacey!’

Chapter 2

Keeping a cool head, Kacey shifted pleading eyes to Black. ‘Please. Leave him alone. I’m the guilty one. The newspaper will give you every opportunity to refute anything we publish. Cartwright’s lawyers can sue us for a fortune. You win.’

Black nodded to agree. ‘You should be on the stage, McCain. Such an incredible performance. Fooled me with your charm and enthusiasm. On your first day, I told Paul you didn’t seem like a housekeeper type. My mistake, of course, giving you the benefit of doubt.’

Kacey raised her hands in surrender. ‘I’m impressed with how quickly you came after me. I thought I’d have longer to get away.’

Black reached to the floor and lifted Kacey’s housekeeper shirt. He unpinned the timepiece, unscrewed the back, then tipped a small device into his hand. It occupied almost the entire inside of the case.

‘Shit,’ she said, and her eyes almost popped out when she realised how they found her.

Black dropped the watch and the device into his jacket pocket and threw the top out of the camper.

Her jaw dropped. ‘That’s very high tech for tracking bottom-rung employees. Now I’m wondering what the hell I missed.’

She rubbed her jaw and thought more about what she didn’t know, rather than her immediate safety. ‘Why does Cartwright need such intense security? Not his health scam. There is something else.’

Her hair flopped around her face as she shook a disappointed head. ‘Honestly, I feel cheated, like I missed out on the bonus buy.’

The tracker in her watch should have triggered alarm bells, but she still didn’t grasp the seriousness of her situation when she said, ‘I’d love to stay and chat but I have a meeting with my newspaper proprietor and his lawyers to discuss my forthcoming articles.’

Black said, ‘Hand over what you’ve got. Then you can be on your way.’

She smirked and slowly shook her head. ‘Have you no feelings for the people he damaged? Cartwright’s scams are immoral and the whole world will see him as a blatant fraudster.’

‘In your opinion.’

She climbed onto her soap box and raised her voice. ‘Fraud, deception, fake medical treatment, and fake psychological treatments. Ripping off vulnerable people facing heart-breaking difficulties. Offering untested cures for cancer is despicable and cruel. Cartwright is going to jail.’ She inclined her head and pulled a cute smile. ‘You can come out of this smelling sweet. Give me the inside perspective. My paper will reward you. When the story breaks, the country will hail you a hero for doing the right thing.’

He opened his hand, palm up. ‘Give me what you have.’

His impatient, stony-faced expression didn’t deflect her.

‘You cannot stop me from running this story. My paper is working on a series of exposés backed by harrowing tales from Cartwright’s former clients. We intend to follow these with a national campaign to demand legislation to outlaw these scams. Cartwright’s lifecycle is ending.’ She waved an index finger through the air. ‘Time for you and your merry men to look for new jobs.’

‘Last chance. Hand over what you’ve got.’

Showing him her defiant face, she leaned forward. ‘If I refuse?’

With a dangerous edge to his voice, he said, ‘This camper will explode, destroying you, your friends, and everything in here. Tragic end to your fake news.’

She sat back to reflect. Threats are an occupational hazard for investigative journalists. Over the years, she faced down more intimidating people than Black. Kacey engaged Black’s eyes for a handful of seconds, trying to decide if she heard a genuine threat. He was too nice. She figured he was bluffing and blurted a loud mocking laugh.

Black nodded. Peaty holstered his pistol and pulled a small cosh from under his jacket. He hit Jeff on the shoulder, making him squeal. He aimed a more powerful swing at the back of Jeff’s left hand. The crack of breaking bones drew Kacey to the edge of the door to see what happened.

Jeff collapsed on the ground, whining and trembling. Clutching his broken hand in his other. Peaty repositioned himself and raised the cosh to strike Jeff’s head.

‘Stop it,’ Kacey said to Black.

He nodded, and Peaty lowered the cosh.

She returned to her seat in the van. ‘Everything I have is in Jeff’s cameras.’

Peering at the wing mirror, Liam watched Peaty attack Jeff. Earlier, he noticed what she did seconds before Black arrived. Fearing he would be next for a beating, Liam screamed. ‘Kacey! It’s over. Give them what they want.’

She shifted her gaze to Black, and nodding a disappointed head, she said, ‘Okay.’

Reaching inside her knickers, she retrieved her phone and handed it over.

He accessed the phone. ‘Password?’

‘98934dmc,’ she replied.

Black handed the phone to Peaty, and he took the phone to the BMW.

Using a laptop, Peaty accessed the files. Five minutes later, he returned to Black’s side with the laptop and showed him the screen.

Black examined the detail, then shifted concerned eyes to Kacey. ‘You’ve been a busy bee. Date stamps on these files start three days ago. You started working for us six days ago. There are three missing days.’

She threw him a confused look.

Black raised his voice. ‘Don’t fuck with me, McCain. We can’t block this lane for much longer. In one minute, your photographer will never hold a camera in his hands again. Then we’ll start on the driver.’

She pushed her shoulder-length hair behind her head and picked at an Elastoplast dressing behind her ear. She pulled it off and held it in her palm. Embedded in the gauze was a phone micro memory card. ‘That is everything.’

Black pocketed the Elastoplast, then lifted the remaining pieces of her housekeeping uniform. ‘You won’t be needing these.’ He stepped back from the camper door and shouted at the tractor driver. ‘Billy. Park the tractor in the field, then drive me back to Serennity.’

Peaty smashed the cosh into Jeff’s head to knock him unconscious. With help from Black, they dragged Jeff to the open door and unceremoniously dumped the crumpled heap at Kacey’s feet.

Black said to Carver, ‘Okay, we’re done. Follow the tractor into the field. Clear the lane for my car. We’ll be on our way. Billy will come back for you in half-an-hour.’

Before he closed the side door, he said to Kacey, ‘Never try this stunt again. Next time, I won’t be so forgiving.’

Kacey knelt beside Jeff and examined the back of his head. She figured he would have a nasty lump when he regained consciousness. She slumped on the floor, leaning against a cabinet with a grim expression and mixed feelings.

She covered her eyes with one hand. Angry with herself over the time and effort she spent on this investigation with nothing to show, and sickened by the fact she had a massive prize in her hands, but had to give it back. Relieved to be heading home in one piece, albeit with her tail between her legs.

The tractor reversed into the field, and Carver followed with the camper. He turned sharply left and parked the van with the passenger side close to the hedgerow so Liam couldn’t open the passenger door, and if Kacey opened the side door, she would face the hedge.

Kacey shifted her gaze to Carver. ‘What are you doing?’

He ignored her and switched off the engine. He opened the door and held it open for Peaty to climb into the driver’s seat.

Carver moved to the front of the van and rested open palms on the bonnet, as if he might push the vehicle back, like a superhuman.

Peaty swivelled in the driver’s seat and faced Kacey with a menacing expression.

Liam panicked and tried to force the passenger door against the hedgerow, but it wouldn’t open enough for him to squeeze through.

Peaty pulled the cosh from his pocket, switched hands, and struck Liam on the side of the head.

Kacey screamed. ‘Bastard! Stop it.’

Liam slumped into the footwell. Either unconscious or pretending.

Peaty returned his cosh to his pocket, then twisted his body in the chair to face Kacey. His piercing eyes scanned her body as if trying to picture her naked.

He nodded to the back of the camper. ‘What’s the bed like in this van? Comfy?’

Then he slipped off the seat, turned around, and planted a foot on the cushion to climb over the back of the front seats.

He faced her with a grin. One loaded with a particular meaning. I’m going to have you, and there is nothing you can do about it.

She recoiled and shuffled away from him. ‘Stay where you are,’ she shouted.

‘Come on, sexy woman. Fair is fair. You fucked us good and proper. Now it’s our turn.’

Chapter 3

Eight minutes later, Omar returned to Serennity House. Billy parked the BMW in the car park behind the main building and accompanied Omar as they walked down the trail to a row of cabins sitting on the shore. He stopped at the third cabin named Rannoch, and looked over the serenely calm loch before he stepped inside.

Omar settled at a large table cluttered with papers, maps, and documents. He’d been working there when he received the call about a housekeeper on the run. Also on the table, a short-wave radio with its dials lit up, and a long aerial that reached to the ceiling.

‘Make me an Americano. Use the kettle with pre-set temperatures. 80oC,’ he said.

Billy marched through to the living room, along a corridor to the kitchen at the back of the property. He filled the kettle, then opened the fridge, lifted a bottle of cold lemon tea, and poured a glass for himself.

Omar was a handsome man with dark features, twinkling eyes, and short black hair. A noble Roman nose sat well in his charming smile. Tall, with an athletic build, he loved tennis and played an aggressive and noisy game. His measured voice revealed an educated and cultured background.

He set his laptop and the bag of photographic equipment on the table beside a desktop computer. Then retrieved the fob tracker, Kacey’s phone, and the micro memory card. Setting them side by side.

Billy brought the Americano and set it beside the laptop. ‘Shall I go back for the guys?’

Omar nodded.

After his second sip of coffee. Omar received a call. He grabbed another sip before he answered.

‘Omar, As-salam-u-alaikum.’

‘Wa alaikum assalaam, Roshan.’

Roshan sounded anxious. ‘Brother, I just this minute learned you uncovered a spy.’

‘Calm yourself. She’s not government. Just a nosy journalist and photographer. I have her photos and notes.’

‘Are you sure she didn’t identify you?’

Omar’s voice sounded dismissive. ‘To her, I am Joe Black. She has no reason to check my true identity.’

‘The video... do you have the video?’

Omar deepened his voice. ‘What video are you talking about?’

Roshan raised his voice. ‘Today, she video interviewed Peyman. He told me she cornered him and tricked him into answering her questions. You must find the video.’

‘When did she question him? Peyman said nothing to me.’

‘This morning. He told me minutes ago.’

Omar glanced at the bag of equipment. ‘I have the photographer’s cameras. I’ll find it. Do not be concerned, Peyman would not tell anyone about me or our work.’

‘Question the journalist. Make sure she passed nothing about you or our mission to her newspaper.’

Omar lifted a burner phone from the table. He sent a text to Peaty. Keep them alive.

Roshan’s nervousness irritated Omar. He expected more composure from his brother. ‘I have just questioned her. I’m certain she did not discover my work. What did Peyman tell you?’

‘She asked what he was doing at Serennity House. In a staff uniform, he assumed her to be one of our people. She may not understand what he said, but he answered her questions.’

‘I will find out exactly what he told her.’

With a hint of panic in his voice, Roshan said, ‘I cannot tolerate the remotest chance she knows anything about our work.’

‘Peyman knows none of the detail. Don’t give this another thought, brother. I will deal with the journalist.’ To change the subject, he asked, ‘Are your preparations complete?’

Roshan’s voice picked up confidence. ‘Yes. Everything is going to plan for my part. This journalist woman is—’

Omar interrupted with a raised voice. ‘Stop worrying about her. She didn’t have time to pass anything to anyone.’ He coughed to clear his throat. ‘But I will make certain.’

Omar received a text from Peaty. Driver is unconscious but alive.

He sent. Standby.

Anger laced Roshan’s voice. ‘Omar. I’ve given five years of my life to this work,’ he said. ‘As have you. I will worry about every side issue until the day arrives when we celebrate our victory.’

‘Calm yourself, brother. Everything is unfolding as planned.’

Roshan changed the topic. ‘Last night, I dreamt about the celebrations. I woke up with my heart pounding in my chest. I cannot wait. We will return as national heroes who achieved the impossible. What news of the patient?’

Omar’s voice deepened with concern. ‘I brought him yesterday. He’s sicker than I expected. Chronic pain is draining his life. I doped him with morphine. He’s so poorly, he can’t speak.’

‘Will he live long enough for what we need? I cannot organise a replacement.’

Omar rubbed his forehead. ‘He’ll be very ill, but he’ll be alive. When do your men arrive?’

‘Tomorrow. They will text you when their train arrives in Glasgow. You must send someone to collect them and bring them to Lochwinnoch.’

Omar asked, ‘Did you finalise the last-minute negotiations?’

A deep sigh from Roshan revealed the negotiations had been difficult. ‘The talking is over, finally. We will pay a hefty price. Much greater than expected. He drove a hard bargain. I had no choice but to agree.’

Omar hinted his concern. ‘Do you trust him? I’ve always viewed him as a weak link.’

Roshan said, ‘I know what he is. Each side has a video record of every negotiation. This safeguard will ensure neither side loses their nerve during the intense aftermath. It also protects us from any future demands.’

Omar’s voice signalled appreciation. ‘You did well, brother. With this deal in place, success is guaranteed.’

‘It is an outrageous price. I hope no-one will object.’

Omar sounded positive. ‘Brother, forget about the money. Money is nothing. Freedom from tyranny and torture is worth ten times what we pay him,’ he said, then chuckled. ‘If I had conducted the negotiation. I would give him everything he wanted, and more.’

Roshan said, ‘I hear what you say. He will have an enormous crisis to manage. A major test of his personality. It won’t be easy. He will earn his money. Of that, I am certain.’

Omar lowered his voice to a whisper. ‘We are so close, brother. Does it make you nervous?’

‘Of course. Only a fool would not be anxious about such a massive undertaking,’ Omar said, then reflected. ‘Are we doing the right thing? I have no doubt. Will the plan succeed? I know it will. There are no guarantees. Only the will of God. Will the fallout prove too severe? We will find out.’

‘We will succeed. There is a palpable thirst for freedom. An overwhelming hunger for normality. So many souls are desperate for a better life.’

‘It is coming. It is the true will of God.’

Omar asked mournfully, ‘Have you heard the figure for this month?’

‘I’m told it is currently at 429.’

Emotion grabbed Omar’s voice. ‘Such a horrible waste of our brothers and sisters. My heart is breaking. I pray they will forgive us for not saving them.’

‘God willing; they will rejoice when we succeed. Text me after you interrogate the journalist. I must know the outcome.’

‘Of course, brother. I will speak to you soon.’

Omar ended the call and phoned Peaty. ‘What happened?’

‘Sorry boss. The driver attacked me when I was negotiating a comfort break with the journalist.’

‘No matter. Billy is on his way back with the BMW. I want you to bring the journalist and the photographer here. Bute is free. Secure them there. I have more questions for her.’

‘What about the driver and the van?’

Omar pondered for a minute. McCain might have video or other photographic material hidden in the van. ‘Check his phone. Leave Carver to question him. Find out what he knows. Who he told? Tell Carver to call me when he has something.’

*

Carver emptied a bottle of water over Liam’s mouth. He woke, coughing, spluttering, and spitting. Liam discovered his hands and feet were bound, and he lay on his back on the floor of his camper van. Carver towered over him.

He looked all around. ‘Where are Kacey and Jeff?’

Carver said, ‘We