in the bushes, the standby team would be running for their cars, getting briefed via their body com ms (personal radios).
Jumping back over the fence, I headed toward Victoria at a controlled, fast pace. Fuck 'em. What were they going to do? Well, quite a bit, but I'd worry about that when it happened. It wasn't as if I was doing an out and out runner. I'd be back in the flat on Sunday, talking to the morons about Afghanistan. The only difference would be that I'd have acquired two new friends with necks as big as the Serb's, assigned to guard me 24/7, just in case I was overcome again by the desire to take a weekend off.
There were sirens behind me now on the other side of the estate. They must be flapping big time to call in the police.
As I neared the station I just hoped the investigating team had kids of their own, and would understand when I explained to them on Sunday that all I wanted to do was take my child to the Bloody Tower for a day out.
After all, I'd made her a promise. A normal person's promise.
