They waited. Eyes flicking between the lamppost and people approaching it from both directions.
As Bethan watched, a man stopped outside her window. She took little notice of him at first until she realised he was also looking towards the phone booth. He was shorter than her with jet black hair. She moved to get a better angle while keeping an eye on the phone booth.
‘I have a possible,’ she said.
The man turned around for a second to look at the window Bethan was behind. She froze, fearing he was looking directly at her then realised he was looking at the reflection. She could see his face clearly.
‘It’s him. From the ship.’
‘Saleem?’ Gunnymede asked.
‘No. When I was on the ship I saw two Arabs. This is one of them.’
The man set off across the street.
‘He’s crossing towards the booth,’ Bethan said.
The drone picked up the Arab approaching the lamppost and watched as he deftly removed something and walked away.
Bethan looked at her phone screen. The man headed down the street and into a shop.
‘Take him,’ Gunnymede said as he ran across the busy road.
Bethan hurried out of the department store, across the road and into the shop. It was a busy market hall with dozens of independent booths. Bethan kept walking, looking in all directions. She stepped onto a box and looked towards the back of the hall just as the Arab went through a door.
‘He’s out the back!’ Bethan said as she hurried after him.
Gunnymede carried on along the street, bumping into people as he watched the drone view on his phone. The operator moved it to the back of the store but it was a confusion of partially covered narrow walkways with people moving in all directions.
‘We’ve lost him,’ Gunnymede said angrily, breaking into a run.
He ran into an alleyway, turned the corner at the end hoping to see far enough ahead but there were too many obstacles. ‘Bethan?’
‘I’m out the back heading north along a narrow walkway.’
‘Do you have?’ he asked, craning to try and see her.
‘Negative. Wait. I have. I have!’
Bethan could see the Arab coming to the end of the walkway. He ducked under an awning and out of sight. She sped after him, reached the awning and went under it. The alleyway carried on for a bit before reaching a street but it was empty. She hurried to the end and into the street. It led back to the busy shopping high street. There was no sign of the Arab.
She looked back to see Gunnymede stepping under the awning.
She went to him. They met in the middle and looked at the only door in the alleyway. Gunnymede took a hold of the handle and turned it. The door was unlocked. He eased it open to reveal a yard filled with household junk and old building materials. It was the back of a three storey house that looked as if it had been abandoned in the middle of a refurbishment. There was scaffolding and building materials but everything looked in a state of decay.
Bethan followed him across the yard to the back door that was ajar. He reached inside his jacket for a semi-automatic pistol which he tugged out of a shoulder holster as he eased the door open. It led onto a dark, dingy landing. A rusting wheelbarrow sat in the hallway alongside cement bags that had long since solidified.
They eased their way along the concrete floor to a flight of steps. Further ahead was the front door.
‘Check it,’ he whispered.
She went to the door and examined it. It was shut solid. She shook her head. They looked up the stairs.
Gunnymede led the way, easing up each step, keeping to the wall to reduce the chance of noise, ears and eyes fine-tuned to the space above. The second landing was equally trashed, dirt and cobwebs everywhere, thick sheets of plywood covering the floor that didn’t creak when stepped on. There were several doors to choose from but before they could inspect them a noise came from above. And again. The top floor. Like furniture being moved. Gunnymede and Bethan barely breathed in an effort to concentrate their hearing.
Voices trickled down to them. They focused above as they ascended the last flight of stairs, one careful step at a time. A creak forced Gunnymede skip a step. Bethan followed.
There were only two doors on the top landing and it was obvious which was the one they wanted. Gunnymede signalled Bethan to keep away from the door as he levelled the pistol and gripped the handle.
In a single swift movement he turned the knob and pushed the door open to reveal two men. Saleem and the Arab from the street. For a second they were frozen still. The Arab then lunged for a pistol on a table and Gunnymede fired. The bullet slammed through his head spraying Saleem in blood and he dropped dead to the floor.
Saleem remained still in his chair other than his empty hands that very slowly rose into view. Gunnymede stepped inside and checked behind the open door. The small room was sparsely furnished. A table and a few chairs. A single window was ajar leading onto a flat roof with scaffolding.
Bethan stepped in behind Gunnymede.
‘The tide has turned again,’ Gunnymede said. ‘I would really like to shoot you in the head right now and save all the aggravation of a trial and prison.’
‘Then you’d never find out about the attack.’
‘Don’t need to now.’
‘Someone else will come.’
‘Good piece of bargaining for your life.’ Gunnymede said. ‘Kind of relies on me giving a fuck. So tell me?’
‘Where the attack will be? You don’t seriously expect me to tell you right away do you?’
Bethan walked over to the table and looked at various items on
