into an email and send it to Gregorio.
The Dutchman appeared looking hungover. They'd had a big night out with the English, who they'd met on the pilgrimage to El Rocio. They hadn't got to bed until two in the morning and yet the English said they were leaving early.
'Did they say where they were going?'
'They just said they were going back to England.'
'What about their route?'
'They were staying in paradors, then going via Biarritz and the Loire to the Channel Tunnel. They all had to be back at work a week tomorrow.'
Falcon paced the patio, willing his mobile to start vibrating. Gregorio called back just before 10 a.m.
'First of all, that Spanish ID card was stolen last year and we haven't got a visual match for his face in any of our files. His car was a Mercedes and was hired in Jerez de la Frontera on Monday, 5th June in the afternoon, and it was returned at 9.15 this morning. I've told them not to touch the car until they hear from us. Are you going to tell me what this is about?'
'What about the car models of UK registrations?'
'They're coming through now,' said Gregorio, reading them off. 'A VW Touareg, a Porsche Cayenne, a Mercedes M270 and a Range Rover.'
'You remember the car manuals Yacoub saw?'
'Let's meet in your office now. I can get secure phone lines there.'
Forty-five minutes later Falcon was still waiting in his office, making notes as the complications to the scenario multiplied in his mind. Gregorio called from Elvira's office and told him he'd set up a conference call with Juan and Pablo, who were in Madrid.
'The first thing I want to hear is the line of logic in all this,' said Juan. 'Gregorio's talked us through it, but I want to hear it from you, Javier.'
Falcon hesitated, thinking there were more important things to discuss than the workings of his brain.
'This is urgent,' said Juan, 'but we're not in a panic. These people are going to take their time travelling back and it's going to give us time to find out what we're up against. I've sent some people from the bomb squad to take a look at the Mercedes in the car-hire company down in Jerez. Let's get the information first and plan our action afterwards. Tell me, Javier.'
Falcon talked him through last night's thought processes, the transmission with Yacoub and the car manuals, the notes he'd looked over about El Rocio, the high brisance of hexogen, the idea of crippling the EU with attacks on tourist resorts and financial centres. Juan was irritable and interrupted frequently. When Falcon happened to mention seeing himself on television, Juan was sarcastic.
'We saw it here, too,' he said. 'Very nice, Javier. We don't allow ourselves to get too sentimental in the CNI.'
'People need hope, Juan,' said Pablo.
'They get enough bullshit rammed down their throats by politicians, without having to listen to the police version.'
'Let him talk,' said Gregorio, rolling his eyes at Falcon.
'I went to bed and woke up a few hours later. I watched a movie called Troy,' said Falcon, and added a little jibe for Juan. 'You know the story of Troy, Juan, don't you?'
Gregorio shook his hand, as if this was getting hot.
'The Greeks packed a wooden horse full of soldiers, left it outside the gates of Troy and faked a retreat. The Trojans pulled the horse inside and, in doing so, sealed their fate,' said Juan, at speed.
'The first thing that occurred to me was: how in this high-security age could Islamic terrorists get a bomb into a significant building in a major city's financial centre?'
'Ah!' said Pablo. 'You'd get the people who work in the city centre to take it in there for you.'
'And how would you do that?' asked Juan.
'You'd pack someone's car full of high explosive while they were unaware,' said Falcon. 'Tourists going to El Rocio stay in Seville before and after the event. The main celebration of the pilgrimage finished on 5th June. Hammad and Saoudi brought the hexogen to Seville on 6th June with the intention of packing it into 'hardware' and fitting it into these people's cars, so that they would drive it back to the UK and into the heart of the City of London.'
'The first, and possibly the most important thing, about this scenario,' said Juan, reasserting his control over the call, 'is that the terrorists have intelligence. The four guys who own these cars all work for the same company: Kraus, Maitland, Powers. They manage one of the City's largest hedge funds, specializing in Japan, China and Southeast Asia. The relevance of that is they are all wealthy men. They all live in big houses outside London, which means that they drive into work every day, and they don't get stuck in traffic because their work day starts at 3 a.m. and finishes at lunchtime. Their cars are guaranteed to be in the building in the heart of the City at rush hour. Their office is in a landmark building known as the Gherkin.'
'Where did you get all that information?' asked Falcon.
'MI5 and MI6 are already involved,' said Juan. 'They are now looking for various candidates who could have given the terrorists their intelligence.'
'What about this woman, Mouna Chedadi-the one who made the bookings for Amanda Turner?' asked Falcon.
'They're looking at her records now. She is not a known terrorist suspect. She lives in Braintree in Essex, just outside London. She's Muslim, but not particularly devout and definitely not radical,' said Juan. 'She's only been working for Amanda Turner's advertising agency since the beginning of March. She would, of course, have known everything about their holiday arrangements.'
'But possibly not very much about Amanda Turner's boyfriend and his colleagues working in the hedge fund,' said Pablo. 'Which means the terrorists probably have two or more sources of intelligence.'
'But we don't know who they are, so we cannot talk to anybody in any of the companies associated with these eight people,' said Juan.
'We've also consulted with the British, and they agree that we cannot talk to the people in the cars either,' said Pablo. 'Only a highly trained soldier would be capable of behaving normally whilst driving a car known to be packed with explosives.'
'Which brings us to the final problem,' said Juan. 'Because the 'hardware' has been kept separate at all times from the high explosive and seems to be from different provenance, the British are concerned that the core of the hardware might contain something toxic, like nuclear waste. They are also assuming that the cars will be shepherded back to their destination. This means that the option of getting the people away from the cars is not a viable alternative.'
'You've got a call on line four, Juan,' said Pablo in Madrid.
'Hold on a moment,' said Juan. 'No talking while I'm gone. We all need to know everything that's said.'
Gregorio looked for an ashtray but it was a nosmoking office. He went into the corridor. Falcon stared into the carpet. One of the advantages of the clandestine world was that nothing ever achieved reality for these people. Were any of them to actually see Amanda Turner, sitting in the passenger seat of the Porsche Cayenne as it ripped past the Spanish countryside, it might be a different matter. As it was, she'd become an element in the video game.
Juan came back to the conference. Gregorio crushed his cigarette out.
'That was the bomb squad from Jerez de la Frontera,' said Juan. 'They've found traces of a hexogen plastique mix in the boot of the rented Mercedes. They've also found two air holes drilled through from the boot into the back seat, and evidence of food and drink. It looks as if he drove into the hotel car park with the bombs and one or two technicians in the boot. They were left overnight to install the devices in the British tourists' vehicles.'
'I don't think we need any more confirmation than that,' said Pablo.
'But now we have to find these tourists,' said Juan, 'without creating a national police alert.'
'How long have they been on the move?'
'They left Seville just after 7.30 a.m.,' said Falcon. 'It's now 10.45. The Dutch couple said the British were heading north to spend a few nights in paradors.'
'The slow route would be via Merida and Salamanca,' said Gregorio. 'The fast route via Cordoba, Valdepenas
