Tested by Fire by David Costa (the little red hen read aloud TXT) 📗

‘It’s good to see you again, Sean, would you like some coffee?’

‘Could I have a pot of tea? I’ve been drinking too much coffee lately.’

She called over the waiter who had been cleaning glasses behind the bar and gave him the order for a pot of tea for two. Costello noticed how the years away in foreign countries had dulled her Irish accent even more than he remembered.

She noticed Costello searching the area with his eyes.

‘Don’t worry, the people in the corner are American tourists. Their conversation is loud like all American tourists. I can hear them from here, they’ve been arguing about where to go today and tomorrow. The only security cameras I can see are one directly above them and one over the bar. The cameras are there to spot drug use or for people using their own booze from handbags. We can relax for our little chat.’

‘I must say, the change in your hair colour and the contact lenses completely changes your appearance, Sharon.’

‘It’s a lot easier to change my appearance that way than with plastic surgery.’

‘I’m inclined to agree.’ He smiled.

The tea came and after pouring, she asked, ‘Well, how are things going, is the safe house OK?’

‘Yes, it’s perfect. I just finished my first look about and everything is looking good to go.’

‘So, you think it can be done?’

‘The details will need to be worked out. When will the rest of the team be here for a get together?’

‘I’ve instructed everyone to be at the safe house for eight tonight. Is that OK for you?’

‘Yes, that’s great. Is the finance in place?’

‘Yes, all bases are covered, with extra available if you need it. The house has been paid for in advance using false ID. Of course, when we leave it, we leave it clean so no trace back to us. I presume you’ve brought all the equipment we need?’

‘Yes, no problem, we have all we need.’

‘Is there anything you need from me in the meantime?’

Costello took out his tourist map, placing it on the coffee table between them. He pointed to the map. ‘This building here, it’s called The Great Northern Tower Apartments, is ideal for what we need. Take a walk there yourself, bring Mohammad and work out how we get access to the building and one of the apartments to the rear above the eighth floor. Even if it means renting or buying one. At worse, we may have to take one of the apartments by force. I’ll let you work that out, whatever’s best. We might even organise a viewing on the day.’

‘Sure, no problem. I’ll text him now. Hopefully, we’ll have some news for tonight’s meeting.’

Costello finished the last of his tea. ‘Until tonight then. I’ll do one more walk about before getting the train back to Irlam.’

As he left, Lyndsey noticed he didn’t look back and the two Americans were once more falling out loudly over their tourist plans. If only they knew the plans she’d just been discussing, they might be a little quieter.

 

 

Chapter Twenty

The Prime Minister’s Downing Street study wasn’t large as studies go. The desk, made of dark stained oak, sat at an angle facing the door with two large winged back leather chairs in front. The room had the dark furnishings of a gentleman’s club. The Prime Minister, the Right Honourable Peter Brookfield, sat behind the desk reading a report consisting of two pages of A4 marked Most Secret or Red X as these types of documents were known thanks to the large Red X that covered the front of the buff folder the reports came in.

Sir Martin Bryant sat in one of the large leather chairs quietly watching as Brookfield started reading the second page of A4. Bryant had always liked this room. Its size and lack of windows gave it an air of intimacy, privacy, and most important, secrecy. Bryant always associated his one-to-one meetings with the Prime Minister as confidential. The room different from the sterile rooms of his own office building and its intimacy had greatly helped him build a close bond of trust with the PM which he believed was reciprocated.

Putting the second page on his desk, Brookfield’s greyish blue eyes looked back at Bryant.

‘How serious are we taking this, Martin?’

The PM always addressed him in personal not formal terms as two friends to each other. Despite this, Bryant, when on business as this meeting was, always addressed the office.

‘Very seriously, Prime Minister. I’m assured by the Department head that the agent providing the information is reliable.’

‘But this is Islamic Jihad and Republican terrorists working together to kill me.’

‘That’s the assumption, sir. The high-up target, hints at Manchester being the location for the attack, the same week of the Conservative Party Conference; everything points in that direction. We believe the spectacular result, if achieved, is the bond that’s bringing these groups together.’

‘Will we be able to firm that up?’

‘Hopefully, but as time is short, I’ve given the go ahead for SG9 to take the lead on this, especially as the agent in question is reporting to the SG9 officer. The operation, code name Long Shot, will run things from the Department’s Operation Room at the airport. The officer in question, David Reece, will be leaving with a special team for Manchester today.’

‘Has he got everything he needs?’

‘I’ve given Broad the full co-operation of the Anti-Terror Squad in Manchester and a dedicated SAS CBT trained team at his disposal. Reece will pull the whole thing together on the ground when he gets there and report directly to Jim Broad, who will then keep myself and C in the loop.’

‘Do you need anything from me?’

‘No, not at this stage, Prime Minister. I’ve given the go ahead for SG9 to use the extreme force it was created