Loader edged backwards in horror. ‘Bloody hell, are you infected?’
‘Piss off,’ Bowman said. ‘I should be worried about catching something from you, mate. All the groupies you claim to have had.’
Casey said, ‘How can we be sure that Freddie is telling the truth?’
‘Thames House has questioned the man purporting to be President Seguma,’ the Voice responded in its train-station-announcement tone. ‘He’s confessed to the scam. It appears the president’s personal assistant and bodyguards were in on it as well. But they don’t appear to have been involved in the wider plot.’
‘Freddie also claimed that his brother is blundering into a trap,’ Mallet chipped in. ‘Reckons the Russians are planning to ambush the meeting. Stab David Lang in the back.’
Bowman heard the rustling of papers. The Voice said, ‘It’s imperative that we intercept David Lang at once, before he walks into a trap. You’ll set off immediately, as soon as this briefing has finished.’
Mallet said, ‘As you all know, Lang is meeting Galkin and Bezuglov in Antibes at noon local time. Eleven o’clock our time. Galkin’s mansion is a one-hour drive from Monte Carlo. Which means we’ll need to isolate Lang before eleven o’clock, local time. Less than seven hours from now.’
‘What’s the deal with transport?’ asked Bowman.
The Voice said, ‘There’s a private jet waiting for you at RAF Northolt. It’s been booked through a private firm in St Albans. You’ve been granted priority clearance onto the airfield. Everything has been arranged in advance. Wheels up at five o’clock this morning. A Caravelle will take you there. Should be with you in the next thirty minutes.’
‘Do we need a blue-light convoy?’
‘That won’t be necessary. We’ve checked the route. Traffic is light. Shouldn’t be any problems getting to Northolt.’
Bowman made a rough mental calculation. Northolt was approximately an hour’s drive from their location. The Caravelle would pick them up at 03.50. Which meant they would be arriving at the airfield with a few minutes to spare before they took off. There would be no time to go through the mission before they departed. He wondered when he was going to be told the full picture.
‘The jet has been booked under the name of PLQ Trading Limited,’ the Voice went on. ‘As far as the staff and crew are concerned, you’re a group of wealthy businesspeople flying out for a jolly in the south of France. It’s a two-hour flight to Nice. It’ll have to be Nice as there’s no airport in Monaco. In case anyone asks questions, we’ve made reservations at the Orleans Hotel in the city centre.’
‘How do we get to Monaco?’ said Webb.
‘Helicopter transfer. Which has also been booked. You’ll arrive in the principality at around eight o’clock, local time.’
Bowman said, ‘What happens once we land?’
‘You’ll head to your prearranged RV to collect vehicles and weapons. John has the details. That should leave you with around two hours to get to the apartment complex and make your move before Lang departs for the meeting in Antibes.’
Bowman sucked the air between his teeth. ‘We’re gonna be cutting it fine. What if Lang leaves his flat early? He might decide to take the scenic route to the meeting. Check out some sights on the Riviera.’
‘Our analysts consider it unlikely. Lang doesn’t move around much when he’s in town, by all accounts. He’s a reclusive fellow. Stays indoors most of the time, entertaining his friends or watching the boxing.’
‘Don’t forget, he’s got Seguma with him as well,’ Mallet added. ‘Which makes him even less likely to set foot outside unnecessarily. That prick will want to keep a low profile.’
The Voice said, ‘As an extra precaution, we’ve asked the guys at GCHQ to ping his mobile every sixty seconds. If Lang makes an unexpected move, we’ll know about it.’
Mallet said, ‘You all know the plan to arrest Davey Boy at his apartment. There’s no need to run through the details again right now. I’ve told Josh he’ll receive a full update after this briefing. As soon as we’ve got Lang where we want him, we’ll turn the screw.’
‘What makes you think Lang will spill his guts?’ asked Bowman.
‘He won’t have a choice,’ the Voice said simply. ‘Once you present him with the facts of his brother’s poisoning, Lang will realise that he’s being set up. That ought to get him talking.’
‘Lang will suspect it’s a trap. Even if he doesn’t, he won’t tell us the truth. He’ll spin some bollocks story.’
‘We’re well aware of that.’ The Scot looked meaningfully at Bowman. ‘That’s where you come in.’
‘Me?’
‘You’ve got the inside knowledge on mobsters. You grew up around the Lang twins. You know their world. Their mindset. You can help us to anticipate how Lang might react, identify any weak points. Chinks in his armour.’
‘I don’t know the bloke from Adam.’
‘But you know how gangsters think. How their minds work.’ Mallet spread his hands across the table. ‘Then there’s all that undercover work you did with the Met. You must have learned a thing or two about what makes criminals tick.’
‘That was donkey’s years ago.’
Mallet swatted away the words with his hand. ‘You never forget that kind of stuff. And another thing. You’re the one who heard Freddie’s confession. You can tell David how his brother suffered, how the life slipped out of him right in front of you. It’ll feel authentic.’
Bowman shook his head determinedly. ‘Lang won’t talk to you. Or me. Or anyone. It would make him a snitch.’
‘Then we’ll torture him,’ Mallet suggested. ‘Slap him around a bit. Waterboard him.’
Loader looked horrified. ‘You can’t do that, John.’
‘Why not?’
‘Torture won’t work.’ Webb hadn’t said a word during the briefing, but now he addressed the others in his thick Brummie accent. ‘I’ve seen blokes tortured before. Only works on a certain type. It ain’t the likes of Lang. He’s a tough bastard.’
‘He’s right,’ Bowman said. ‘You can’t make Lang talk, not through pain.’
‘What do you suggest, then?’
Bowman considered. ‘There is one thing that might work.’
‘Go on.’
‘Lang is rumoured to run
