Manhunter by Chris Ryan (the false prince series .TXT) 📗

and cinched them around his wrists, pulling them tight. Then Ginger Beard and the older woman rolled him on to his back, hiding the ties from view. Bowman re-holstered his pistol and snatched the weapon concealed beneath the man’s tunic. A Glock 19 semi-automatic. The same basic specs as the Glock 17, but smaller. More compact. Bowman thumbed the release catch on the side of the Glock, ejecting the clip. He dropped the mag in his left jacket pocket and stuffed the gun down the front of his trousers.

‘Ambulance is on the way,’ the woman with the heart-shaped face said as she jogged back over. ‘Be here any minute.’

Bowman nodded at the shooter.

‘Wait here with this prick. When the ambo shows up, bundle him on to the stretcher. Keep it quiet.’

‘What if he struggles?’

‘Give him another dig in the bollocks. That should shut him up.’

Bowman sprang to his feet.

‘Where are you going?’ Ginger Beard asked.

‘I need to liaise with my team. Tell them what’s happened.’

He turned away, leaving the three officers to form a protective cordon around the assassin, shielding him from the view of the crowd across the street. Already some of the spectators near the media centre had switched their attention to the curious incident unfolding near to the kiosk. Several of the uniformed police officers were also glancing over at their comrades, straining to see what was going on.

As he neared the western entrance, Bowman spoke into his covert radio.

‘Principal on site,’ he said. ‘There’s been an incident. Repeat, there’s been an incident.’

There was a pause, and then a Scouse voice fizzled over the secure comms.

‘We’re coming out now. Meet us at the entrance.’

Bowman forced himself to walk calmly towards the Abbey, in spite of the tension throbbing in his chest. Jallow and Deka stood beside the West Door. Kember was there too, having raced over from the holding area. He was deep in conversation with Lomas and Studley. The two other guys on the Counter-Attack Team.

Bowman nodded at the bodyguards.

‘Where’s the principal?’

‘Inside,’ Jallow replied. ‘They’re showing him to his seat. What’s going on?’

‘I’ll explain later. Right now, I need you two to get over to the holding area. Secure the vehicles.’

‘What for? There’s no danger there.’

Bowman drew in a deep breath. He wanted the bodyguards elsewhere, away from the situation. The Regiment was taking control now. These guys would only get in the way.

He said, ‘Our team has got the Abbey covered. You’re needed elsewhere.’

‘To watch over some cars? What’s the point?’

‘There’s a risk someone might try and deface the limo while this thing is going on.’

The bodyguard shrugged his massive shoulders. ‘So?’

‘You think it’ll look good if your boss has to drive back to the hotel in a car covered in paint?’

Jallow muttered something to his partner. The pair of them turned and traipsed down the street towards the holding area. Bowman watched them for a beat. Then he hurried over to Kember and the two other grey-suited guys from the Counter-Attack Team. Lomas and Studley.

The shorter of the two guys glared at Bowman, face twitching with anger.

‘What the fuck just happened?’

Bill Studley, the team leader, was a squat Scouser with dark curly hair, and a temper that snapped more easily than a biscuit. What he lacked in height he made up for in fighting skills and sheer aggressiveness. The bloke at his side, Stan Lomas, was physically at the opposite end of the scale from Studley. He was built like a rugby prop, with hands the size of ham hocks and bulging arm muscles.

Bowman briefed them on the attack. The assassin disguised as a cop, the situation with the police. The plan to make it look like a fellow officer had fainted.

Studley cleared his throat and said, ‘Everyone get into your designated positions. We’ll cover the main entrance. You two head for the muniment room, just as we discussed. We’ll have to be as vigilant as fuck from now on.’

‘You think there might be another attempt?’ asked Kember.

‘These guys tried once. They might try again.’

‘Or it might be a decoy,’ Bowman pointed out. ‘A false attack. Get us to relax our guard before the real hit goes ahead.’

‘Stick with the principal closely,’ Studley said. ‘Eyes in the back of heads, yeah?’

Bowman said, ‘Shouldn’t we be getting more bodies down here now?’

Studley said, ‘There’s no time.’

‘But we need more pairs of eyes on this guy, Bill. These guys know what they’re doing.’

‘You fucking deaf, pal? I just told you, the plan stays the same. We’ll stick with what we’ve got.’

Kember said, ‘The incident will need reporting. Someone has to tell Scotland Yard what’s gone down.’

‘I’ll phone it in. Give the liaison officer the heads-up.’

‘Someone should double-check the backgrounds of the catering staff,’ Bowman said.

‘Why?’ Studley demanded.

‘They might try to repeat the trick. Sneak in another assassin dressed as a waitress.’

‘We’ll mention it to Five. For now, we stick to the plan as agreed.’

Studley looked round, daring the other guys on the team to defy him.

‘Get into your positions,’ he added. ‘I’ll see you again when the principal leaves. You see or hear anything suspicious, tell us immediately.’

Studley turned and swept back through the Abbey door, Lomas hard on his heels. They moved off to the right just inside the nave, taking up their positions in the small chapel to the side of the entrance. From their vantage point they would have a clear view of anyone coming in or out through the main entrance. Bowman and Kember would set themselves up at an elevated position in the muniment room, overlooking the guests seated around the quire and the transepts.

As Bowman moved to follow the others inside, his eyes were drawn back to the kiosk. An ambulance had pulled up at the side of the road, lights pulsing. Two paramedics jumped down from the cabin and wheeled a gurney across the concrete towards the three police officers huddled around the suspect. To anyone watching nearby, it would look like an officer had fainted and was being