I could see the white powder starting to settle in glass number two as the water simmered gently around it. I took the pan off the cooker and replaced it with the one holding the battery acid. It wasn’t long before white haze was rising and wafting round the lock-up. Once it had stopped, I poured some of the concentrated acid into glass number three. Then, using the plastic knife, I slowly shifted the white powder out of glass number two and added it to the other so it became a white liquid.
All I had to do now was add a bit of potassium, before placing glass number three in the water and letting that boil down until the mixture turned a yellow-orange colour.
The final stage would be to filter it through a second sock placed over glass number four. But this time it wouldn’t be the liquid I was after. I wanted what stayed behind in the sock. The yellow and - thankfully - wet lumps that remained were what this process was all about. Once dried, they would turn into one big fuck-off unstable explosive that could be detonated very easily by heat or an electric charge. For now, however, it would be stored wet in a double layer of freezer bags, twisted, folded over and fastened with the wire retainer to keep the air out and the acid wet. I would keep filling the bags until I had enough.
6
Friday, 19 March
07.20 hrs
I’d fallen asleep in Brogues’s camel-hair coat, lying on the footwell carpets from the Passat. I’d spread them out on the floor alongside my four bags of explosive.
I forced myself up off the concrete. There was plenty more to do.
The first thing was to empty the water container to prepare it for its next payload. I opened the tap and let it run out on the floor. Next I got hold of the set of blister-packed halogen bulbs. The plastic packaging was so rigid I had to use the Chinese Leatherman to make any headway.
These bulbs were just what I needed. They were small, they banged out a huge amount of instant heat, and for their size they were more robust than normal bulbs, which were increasingly hard to find anyway because of EU green legislation. These ones would probably be banned as well when the law makers found out they could be used as detonators.
I pulled one out. It was about the size of the tip of my little finger. It had two loops of metal at the bottom for terminals.
The mosque digital alarm clock was next out of Santa’s Bergen. I shoved in four AA batteries, then yanked out the leads that connected the power source to the speaker at the back. I twisted the bare wires around each of the bulb loops and set the clock to 08.00. Then I set the alarm for 08.01. Bang on time, instead of me getting the muezzin’s wail, the bulb lit up. After three seconds it was hot to the touch - not enough to detonate anything, but that didn’t matter for now. I was going to do something else to the bulb to bring it up to speed. I turned off the alarm clock to save the batteries and put it down.
The twenty-litre container had emptied. I picked it up, together with the length of clear plastic tubing I’d bought from a shop that sold tropical fish, and headed for the Passat.
I opened the fuel cap and shoved the tube down into the tank. With the empty container by my feet, I put the other end of the tube to my lips and sucked. My lungs filled with petrol fumes but I kept going. A few seconds later, the tube darkened. As soon as the fuel had risen to within an inch or two of the tip I slid my thumb over it and took it out of my mouth. I pointed it down into the container, pulled my thumb away and the fuel flowed.
I remembered all the times my stepdad had sent me out nicking petrol from other people’s cars during the fuel shortage in the seventies. I was only about twelve. After that, he said there was a sugar shortage, so I used to get sent out to pocket the sugar shakers from cafes. There wasn’t a sugar shortage, of course: it was my stepdad’s way of saving a few pennies, and fuck the fact that I might get caught.
I left the tube where it was and let the siphon do its stuff. It was time for a brew. The flow would stop as soon as the fuel in the container reached the level of the tube, which was about twenty centimetres below the neck. That would be plenty.
I had a quick look at my G-Shock. Bradley was going to be here soon. I needed to have Angeles tucked away by then.
I had a quick check of the telltales on the way up to see if she’d been having a nose around. They were all in place, and so was the one behind the pigeonholes. I realized I felt nowhere near as bad as I thought I would without the Smarties. I made a mental note to stab myself in the buttock next time I felt a headache coming on.
The moment I opened the door she leapt up from the mattress and cut across the room. ‘Nick! I make tea?’
I gave her a big thumbs-up. ‘Madness not to.’
I looked at the sink. The mugs had been washed. Everything was laid out neatly. The milk stains and tea circles where I’d been making brews had all been cleaned. ‘You had anything to eat yet?’
‘No, Nick. I wait for you.’ She looked worried. ‘I touch nothing.’
I let her get on with it while I dug around in the plastic bags for a piece of pitta. It had started to go hard. What little scabbing I had on my arse had cracked with my exertions and was starting to hurt again. I leant on my good leg and gnawed on the crispy bits around the edges of the bread.
‘Listen, Angeles, someone is coming to see me soon.’
She handed me my brew. She didn’t look happy.
‘This one must not know that you’re here, OK? You understand?’
It didn’t seem to register.
‘He must not see you. I’ll find you somewhere to hide. You’ve got to stay out of sight, yeah?’
She seemed to like the thought of not being seen. Maybe it meant she wouldn’t be moved on.
‘Stay hidden until I tell you to come out. You’ve got to be quiet. He’s going to get really pissed off if you’re here. He’s only let me use this place because he thinks I’m on my own. If he thinks anyone else is here he’ll be very angry with me. You understand?’
She nodded. ‘Yes, yes, Nick. We still leave tonight?’
‘No drama. Tonight. We’ll meet the friend I told you about and she will ask her friends in Moldova if what the Ukrainian men said was true.’
I dunked my bread in the tea to soften it.
She almost skipped back to the sink to pick up her brew.
7
I had an even better vantage-point from the shadows beside the window of the middle office. I could see the front door as well as back along the road towards the main.
I checked my watch and gulped down my last couple of aspirin. They weren’t helping much with the pain in my arse, but I thought I’d try one more dose just in case. The sky was still overcast. The sun hadn’t quite given up trying to fight its way through the clouds, but it must have been tempted.
Bradley came into view, still in exactly the same clothes, but this time gripping a heavy and expensive-looking leather overnight bag in his right hand. I watched him to the door, then headed for the stairs.
By the time I’d got down to the fire escape on the first landing and turned to look down to the front door, he was inside and beginning to lock up.
‘I have everything you asked for.’
‘That’s great, mate. Thanks.’ I went down to meet him. ‘Half the job’s already done.’
‘What do you mean?’
He followed me up the steps to the fire door and into the loading bay. His head bounced around the place,
