eyes now it will just fog my brain.'
'Give me something to do,' Marler suggested.
'What you did before. Track down Eva Brand anonymously as you did last time. Then watch her and track her if she goes somewhere. I need to know who, if anyone, she contacts.'
'I'm on my way…'
When he had left, Paula came across to Tweed's desk, sat in the armchair opposite Newman. She began whispering when Newman opened his eyes.
'You can talk normally. A few minutes' kip and I'm a new man.'
'You do seem interested in keeping an eye on Eva,' Paula said. 'Could I see that photo Nield took when he went to the Finsbury Park mosque? Seems a year ago.'
She studied the photo inside a plastic evidence' envelope Tweed handed her. She turned the photo this way and that, examining the picture of a tallish figure tilted sideways as it walked. Wearing Arab clothes.
'I do know who this is.' She pursed her lips in annoyance. I just can't put my finger on it. Maddening.'
She gave him back the envelope as the phone rang again. Monica said a visitor alleging Tweed knew him was waiting. Tweed checked his watch. Midday. As usual Sarge was on time. Tweed asked Monica and Paula if they would mind leaving them alone. Newman could stay, along with Beaurain.
46
The meeting with Sarge did not take long. Neither Tweed nor the SAS man believed in wasting words or time. Sarge listened while Tweed outlined the defence plan as he understood it. He had only one comment to make when Tweed concluded.
'I think we both know that no battle ever goes according to plan.'
'I anticipate the unexpected,' Tweed agreed.
As Tweed stood up, escorted him to the door, Sarge turned and shook hands. His grip was firm and above the scarf his eyes stared into his host's. Tweed knew what he was doing. He was shaking hands for what might be the last time – in case either one or both did not survive.
'Now,' remarked Tweed when Sarge had gone, 'I wish I knew the identity of the leader. Who really is Abdullah?'
'Abdullah?' Paula queried.
'I had a brief phone call a while ago. Informing me the head of al-Qa'eda was Abdullah. The voice of the caller was using a distorter so I couldn't tell whether it was a man or a woman.'
'And you believed the caller?'
'Yes. Now I must go down and see how Billy Hogarth is getting on. Later we all leave here on motor-bikes. Harry has hired several extra. We must take up our first firing position at dusk, being in place by dark.
'One more sad aspect.' He turned before opening the door. 'I took up the fate of Proctor, the guard at Dick's wharf, held prisoner. As you heard me do so. Sarge was emphatic, was he not, that we cannot risk alerting the al- Qa'eda cell before they attack. I had already come to the same decision.'
'That really is awful,' Paula said. 'His wife has been saved but he will die.'
'Finally,' Tweed told them before leaving, 'the Minister has invited me to meet him at his house in Carpford tomorrow morning at ten o'clock for what he ghoulishly describes as an inquest.' He extracted an envelope from his pocket. 'This, sent by courier, is what Monica handed me before she left the office. I shall accept and be there.'
'By yourself, you mean?' Paula asked.
'No. The invitation names only me, but I'm sure others will be there. Palfry for one. Also Superintendent Buchanan. So my whole team will come with me, whether they are welcome or not. You'd better get dressed hadn't you, for what is to come…'
The phone rang. Tweed paused, then picked it up. He listened, ended the call, looked at Paula and Beaurain.
'Something unexpected. A Mr Margesson has arrived downstairs. From the description it is our Margesson from Carpford…'
He gave them a little salute and went downstairs. Paula stared at Newman.
'What on earth is going on?'
Marler, Harry and Pete arrived in the office, loaded down with clothing. Black outfits with the large white SIS on the backs. Marler had even found an outfit which perfectly fitted the tall Beaurain.
Paula had donned hers before the others. She stood in front of a tall mirror attached to the wall, pulled down the jacket, studied the result quickly. The outfit was black leather. It had a psychological effect on her. Now she couldn't wait to reach the Embankment. She then slipped on one of the green oilskins which concealed what she wore underneath.
'You looked very come-hitherish in black leather,' Newman teased her.
'More than I can say for you.'
'Well, you'll be travelling on my motor-cycle, riding pillion, so you'll just have to put up with it. Mind you clasp me firmly round the waist.'
'The things I do for England.'
It had taken them a while for everyone to put on the kit. Pete Nield had trouble getting himself comfortable. They were all completely dressed when Tweed walked in. He immediately began to put on his own outfit without saying a word. Paula thought he looked exceptionally grim.
'It was our Margesson,' he announced when he had dressed. 'He is staying here the night. Monica is making the room Howard's secretary works in comfortable. With George downstairs, like Billy Hogarth he will be safe.'
'You really are looking very grim,' Paula remarked.
'Time to go,' he replied. 'Look out of the window. It will soon be dusk. We will soon know the outcome.'
47
Paula knew she would never forget the motor-cycle cavalcade ride which took them down on to the Embankment. It was still daylight, on the edge of dusk. Newman led the way after being given the exact route to follow by Buchanan on the phone.
Each machine carried a yellow flag fluttering in the wind which had sprung up. The moment a police checkpoint in the distance saw them coming they cleared the way, forcing irate motorists to drive up on to pavements.
All the motor-cyclists had their lights full on. In the beams she saw a chaos of traffic worse then any she'd ever seen before. Insults were shouted at them by some motorists., while others made rude gestures. If only you lot knew what we're trying to save you from, Paula thought.
Suddenly they were close to Westminster Bridge. It then became a strange dream – nightmare? No street lights along the Embankment. Dusk had fallen and she realized a moon was rising. Had they allowed for this unwanted illumination?
Newman sped along the dark escarpment which was the Embankment. Even though she knew the firing- points, Paula could see no sign anywhere of the SAS. They had to be in position but were invisible. The wind ruffled the surface of the swift-moving river. Had they taken into account the effect a wind like this might have? she wondered. It had not been forecast.
Arriving at the elevated plinth with the statue, Newman parked his machine against the inner kerb, jumped off as Harry arrived behind him. Normally so nimble, Paula was beaten to the top of the plinth by Harry. He immediately pulled back the protective canvas, handed her a sub-machine gun and extra ammo. He also gave her a radio headset to put on.
'We have total communication with the SAS and Buchanan's anti-terrorist mob on the other shore,' he told
