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

our troop friends to keep an eye in Irlam and send Joe and Steve to me as backup, ask them to park up somewhere in the Deansgate area. The troop should use one of our Range Rovers.’

‘I was thinking along those lines myself as long as you’re happy with what you’ll have there.’

‘Yes, that’ll be more than enough for now.’

‘OK, leave it with me. I’ll speak with the troop commander right away. We will also need to move in closer to the house in Irlam tonight to try to find out exactly what we have there. We can wait until well after dark just in case Tourist One goes back there. I’ll get back to you later.’

Reece put the phone back in his Barbour jacket and poured some more tea.

‘Things are starting to move up, we’re getting some reinforcements which will help us keep a closer eye on our friend.’

‘I’m glad, I was getting a bit tired there doing everything myself.’

Reece laughed out loud making the people at the nearby tables look round at the two people sitting holding hands across the table once more.

‘Mary, you’re the calmest untrained person I know in this kind of situation. How do you do it?’

‘I’ve learnt to only worry about this moment, this time, and place. And being with you right here and now, I feel safe and secure and I have to say, happy.’

‘Then I’m happy too. But I still worry about you and I like the fact that I can worry as long as you’re here with me.’

‘You’re going to kill Costello aren’t you, you’re going to kill them all?’

He was slightly taken back by the question. She’d asked as a matter of fact, really knowing the answer herself without hearing his confirmation, but he tried.

‘If we have to, yes… we’ll kill them. It’s really down to them. They are trying to kill innocent people. Our job is to stop them. If they come quietly, we’ll arrest them, but if they don’t, and it’s the only option left to us then yes, we’ll kill them. So, no matter what happens you stick close to me, Mary.’

‘Oh, don’t worry I will.’

April Grey had been watching the screens over Constable Jones’s shoulder. Tourist One seemed to be repeating his movements of the morning. First sitting in the café almost at the same chair and table, drinking coffee, and pretending to read a newspaper. Then he’d walked into the main Conference theatre took a seat and watched and clapped in all the right places then back to the same route before returning to the café again.

Not far from where Mohammad now sat, in a suite of rooms in the Midland Hotel, the Prime Minister was sitting with a few senior ministers and advisors, putting together his main Conference speech that he would give to the Party faithful the next day.

 

 

Chapter Fifty-three

Costello had been able to find the van in the giant carpark easily, and that was only because he’d written down the details of the section it was parked in. After picking up Lyndsey and the luggage from the Radisson he took his time driving through the traffic and many road works that lead into the centre of Manchester. The journey had been uneventful, he drove past the Hilton Hotel to park in the nearby Great Northern NCP Multi Story Carpark.

‘Mohammad should be starting to make his way to the estate agents. If I move now, I’ll be there just before him,’ said Lyndsey.

‘You stay here. I’ll text you and buzz you up when I’m inside the apartment. Will it take you long to get the gear out of the compartment?’

‘No, it’s easy to remove.’

He checked his mobile phone screen for coverage, which was good.

‘Right, I’ll wait for your text, see you soon.’

Lyndsey pulled her scarf around her head and face and left the van heading for the lift. The rain was playing its part. People would be expected to have some sort of head cover in the wet weather, she’d blend in nicely, she thought.

Costello opened the door at the back of the van and easily gained access to the hidden compartment containing the sports bag with the sniper rifle and ammunition inside. Sitting down again in the driver’s seat he placed the bag on the passenger seat next to him. At the same time, he took the Browning pistol out from the belt at his back and keeping it in his left hand rested the weapon on top of the bag beside him, now he sat back and watched what he could see of the carpark.

The rain had stopped when Lyndsey crossed the Great Northern Square and turned onto Deansgate pulling the scarf tight across her face as the wind blew cold against her skin. She was glad she was wearing jeans with her short leather boots with a heavy woolen jumper covered by the dark blue ski jacket, all combining to keep her warm despite the wind. Her over the shoulder leather handbag weighing a little heavier with the pistol safely stowed inside. She could see the estate agents one hundred yards ahead on the other side of the street. She continued walking to the next major junction with Lloyds Street two hundred yards further down before crossing at the junction then turning to walk back down towards the estate agents now on the same side of the street, all the time searching Deansgate for the watchers but none were there. She studied the faces of people walking towards her, but they were lost in their own little worlds some of them on their mobile phones or speaking into the hands-free cables hanging from their ears. When she reached the door of the estate agents’, she studied the street behind her while looking at the reflections in the large glass window in front