‘Stop the car a sec,’ Stratton asked the skinhead calmly, who obeyed instantly.
‘Stratton?’ came the voice again. Stratton looked back along the pavement to see a chubby man in his early thirties in grubby clothes walking briskly towards him. There was something familiar about him.
‘Wilks,’ the man said as he approached the car.‘We worked togever couple years ago in Birmin’am.’ Wilks saw the gun in Stratton’s hand, ignored it and looked in at the skinhead. ‘Awright?’ he asked the skinhead, assuming he was an acquaintance of Stratton’s. The skinhead nodded quickly, wide-eyed.
Stratton remembered Wilks. ‘A4?’ he asked.
‘Yeah. We got a message to ’ang aroun’ Wandsworth and Queenstown Road. Said you’d be abart.’
‘You got a car?’ Stratton asked quickly.
‘Yeah. Over ‘ere.’
Stratton put his gun away. ‘Sorry, mate,’ he said to the skinhead and climbed out and shut the door.
‘That bus,’ Stratton said to Wilks, indicating the only one in the street. ‘Our target’s upstairs.’
Wilks was a pro and instantly switched up gears.‘This way,’ he said and they hurried towards his car. ‘I was on me way ’a Brighton wiv me missus and two nippers when they called me. Did she kick up a stink or what? Gave me merry ’ell.’
At the wheel of Wilks’s car was a young black guy wearing a grin that turned out to be a permanent feature. Stratton climbed in the front and Wilks the back. ‘Chaz, Stratton,’ Wilks said by way of quick introduction. ‘’At bus, me old mate,’ he pointed.
Chaz also picked up on the urgency, started the car and bullied his way into traffic with practised ease.
‘Seventy-seven A?’ Chaz said in a Scouse accent. ‘Goes to Vauxhall, across the bridge,Tate Gallery, Parliament Square. Can’t remember where it goes then. Victoria or Trafalgar. One of them.’
Stratton thought about that a moment. ‘Do you know what this is about?’ he asked them.
‘Not a clue,’ Wilks said. ‘All we know is there’s a right flap on, everyone’s at abaat ten thousand feet, an’ ’at whatever it is is real ’eavy.’
‘You armed?’ Stratton asked.
‘Yeah,’ said Wilks. Chaz nodded.
‘On the bus is a woman and two men. One’s a RIRA hitter. Extreme. Undoubtedly armed. Give him one sniff you’re not Kosher and he’ll take you out. The other’s MI5, but he’s a spy for RIRA. The woman’s one of us and she’s a hostage . . . ’
‘Fuckin’ ’ell,’ said Wilks, seriously impressed. ‘It don’t get much ’eavier ’en ’at.’
‘They’re carrying a biological weapon that could wipe out London,’ Stratton added.
Chaz gave him a quick glance. Wilks was temporarily speechless.
Stratton’s phone vibrated. He put it to his ear. ‘Yes.’ It was Sumners. ‘I’m with two but I need at least four more cars,’ Stratton said. ‘Two snipers would be useful.’
‘Three teams should be with you in twenty minutes,’ Sumners said. ‘I’ll have two police snipers RV with the team commander asap.’
Too much too late, Stratton thought. ‘Target’s on a bus that goes through Parliament Square.That’s Lawton, a RIRA hitter named Brennan and Aggy from South det. She’s a hostage. I used her to get Lawton out of the apartment for my recce and then Brennan entered the plot.’
‘I see. And the bio?’ Sumners asked. He didn’t need to know any more at this stage. The only time you lived in the past on an op was at the debriefing when it was all over. The bio was the only thing of importance, where it was and where it was headed towards. Sumners would ask about Aggy’s part in all this later.
‘They’re carrying the briefcase. I’m certain the bio’s in it,’ Stratton said.
‘We should soon know if it’s on the boat or not,’ Sumners said. ‘They’ll be hitting it any time now.’
‘What about the explosives?’ Stratton asked.
‘The boffins have been in touch with the Yanks and they’re still calculating. It’s not something anyone wants to take a guess at. For God’s sake, Stratton, don’t even think of blowing it until I let you know for sure. And one last thing. Lawton must not live through this. That’s from the top. Understand?’
‘Don’t I always?’ Stratton said and shut down the phone.
‘Twenty minutes to Parliament?’ Stratton asked Chaz.
‘Twenty, twenty-five,’ Chaz replied.
‘We need to get the advantage back,’ Stratton said, thinking out loud mostly. Right now they were just waiting for an opportunity. He had to create one.‘We have to get everyone off the bus,’ he announced.
The other two didn’t quite understand.
‘The bio’s in a briefcase,’ he explained. ‘So’s a chunk of explosive.’
‘They’ve got a bomb as well?’ asked Chaz.
‘The bomb’s mine.’
Wilks was trying to keep up with Stratton but finding it hard. ‘We gotta get everyone off the bus wivout the targets knowin’,’ he said.
‘Right.’
‘’Ow we gonna do that?’ Chaz asked.
‘We take it over,’ Stratton said.‘They’re upstairs.We should be able to clear the bottom at least.’
‘And then you’re gonna blow the fuckin’ thing up?’ Chaz asked, a bit shocked at the thought.
‘Don’t get ahead of yourself. First let’s catch us a bus.’ He looked to Chaz for a physical response. ‘That means we’ve gotta get in front of it, find a bus stop, and flag it down as normal.’
‘Right o,’ Chaz said as he dropped down a gear and simply powered out into the oncoming lane and floored it.
Wilks gripped the back of both front seats.
Cars braked, screeched and swerved to avoid them as Chaz overtook one at a time, cutting back into gaps just long enough to let an oncoming vehicle pass then pushing out again and hammering forward.
As the bus drove under a railway bridge Chaz moved out to overtake it. Its windows strobed past, the passengers bathed in orange light. The bus driver swerved towards the curb and blasted his horn in frustration as he swung back out into his lane. The road opened up ahead of the bus and was clear enough for Chaz to accelerate to over ninety.
‘Nine Elms Lane,’ he shouted. Stratton and Wilks were busy concentrating on his driving and looking out for a bus stop.
They approached the broad intersection that led into Vauxhall.
‘Bus stop just before the bridge!’ Wilks shouted and pointed.
‘Got it,’ Chaz said. ‘I know where to put the car.’
He drove directly across the intersection, over the pavement the other side, down a grass verge, and on to a piece of waste ground close to the river. He braked hard and before the vehicle had come to a complete stop the doors were open and they were all clambering out.
Stratton led the run back up the grass verge in time to see the bus heading for the intersection. Chaz arrived at the top of the verge and Stratton quickly faced him, his back to the bus. As Wilks arrived out of breath he saw the bus and was about to bound off ahead of it.
‘Wait,’ shouted Stratton, grabbing Wilks’s jacket. ‘Wait for it to pass.’ He didn’t want the front upper deck to see them running. But that meant they were going to have to sprint as soon as it went by. Wilks was aware of that and, being far too overweight, was already dreading it. He was not given time to think about it. As the bus passed Stratton was off with Chaz alongside him.
The bus came to a halt at the stop to let a handful of people on and off. It was still a good hundred yards away and it was touch and go as to whether they would make it. Chaz turned on the afterburners and moved ahead of Stratton. The driver punched out a ticket and counted out the change for the last new passenger. Stratton ran as hard as he could, suddenly filled with the fear he had miscalculated the distance and how long it would take to cover it. The passenger took his ticket and started to head down the aisle. The doors gushed with air as they started to close and the bus crept forward. Chaz reached out and flung his arm into the closing gap. The driver saw a hand come through to grab the inside of the door and quickly braked. He gave Chaz a stern look and shook his head as he opened the doors.
Chaz stepped aboard, regaining his breath and Stratton climbed on behind him.
‘One . . . more,’ Stratton said to the driver, standing in the doorway so it couldn’t be closed.
