let the 'but' linger menacingly before
continuing – 'if this is a scam, or if you're trying to
have me over in any way, then I'll come looking for
you, Frankie, or whatever your name is, because
frankly, Frankie, I don't give a shit. And when I find
you – and I will – then it won't matter what your
fucking name is. Because you'll be dead. Capisce?'
9
The clock on the dashboard of Lee's Mondeo
flickered as it moved on yet another minute to
8.47 p.m.
Danny sat low in the passenger seat as he pushed
forward the on/off switch on the side of the Taser
stun gun in his jacket pocket. A Taser would jolt
100,000 watts into a body when jammed against it,
and that was enough to instantly drop a small
horse.
Danny had got used to handling various longs
and shorts during his training, but the Taser felt
heavy and unfamiliar in his hand.
Drizzle had been falling for the past hour, dampening
the road surfaces and the parked vehicles so
that they gleamed in the streetlights. It was a light
but constant rain, enough to keep most pedestrians
off the streets.
Danny sighed. 'I think she fancies me.'
'Who?
'Storm, the blonde bombshell.'
Lee raised his eyebrows as he thought back to the
surveillance photographs he had taken of Storm at
the beginning of the operation. He was the one who
had come up with the nickname of the 'blonde
bombshell'. It fitted her perfectly.
'And what makes you think that?' said Lee, looking
at Danny.
'I dunno. The way she looks at me. And smiles.'
'Yeah, I can imagine. But don't get too carried
away – you've got a job to do, Danny boy.'
'I know, and I am. I'm just getting to know her,
like my granddad said.'
'Listen, Danny,' said Lee, more seriously. 'A word
of advice . . .'
'Yeah, I know: never mix business with pleasure.
And I'm not going to.'
'Good to hear it,' said Lee. 'Start messing with
women when you're on a job and it can mess with
your head. Women are clever, you know.'
Danny laughed. 'Oh, so you're the expert on
women, are you?'
'Not me, mate. You should talk to Phil – he's been
married three times.'
'Yeah?'
Lee nodded. 'Mind you, the last one walked out
on him a few years ago, so he obviously hasn't got
the hang of it yet, either.'
'How d'you know all this?'
'I've spent a lot of time with Phil since you got
your cushy office job. You get to chat up the girlfriend,
sit in a warm office shuffling the occasional
bit of paper, drinking poncy coffee four times a day
and we do the routine surveillance stuff. How fair is
that?'
Danny smiled. He was glad to be back at work
with Lee. But tonight wasn't routine. Tonight they
expected Mr Siddie Richards to pay a visit to the
Headingham residence.
It was a Wednesday, and Wednesday night was
one of the few occasions when the Headingham
twins were regularly apart. They took it in turns to
visit their widowed mother. When they were not off
on one of their foreign trips, she liked to see them
separately, on alternate weeks, so that she could
devote herself to one of her beloved sons on his
own.
Fergus had tipped off Siddie about the weekly
outings and he reckoned that the gang leader would
pick that Wednesday to make the home-alone twin
an offer he dare not refuse.
Lee peered out through the blurry windscreen,
then glanced over at Danny. 'So what you gonna do
when this is over?'
Danny shrugged. 'Dunno. Haven't thought about
it much.'
'You could come in with us, you know, the
Security Service. I might even give you a reference.
Or maybe you'd prefer to go over to the dark side
and do all that army SAS stuff like Phil and your
granddad.'
Danny looked at Lee: he had asked him about his
life at MI5, and while Lee hadn't told him much, he
got the impression that he loved the work. He
started to reply, then glanced up at the street ahead
and suddenly broke off to hit the pressel on the
Mondeo's gear stick.
'Stand by! Stand by! That's a grey Jaguar, four up,
approaching apartment building. Fergus acknowledge.'
Fergus's voice came back
continuing – 'if this is a scam, or if you're trying to
have me over in any way, then I'll come looking for
you, Frankie, or whatever your name is, because
frankly, Frankie, I don't give a shit. And when I find
you – and I will – then it won't matter what your
fucking name is. Because you'll be dead. Capisce?'
9
The clock on the dashboard of Lee's Mondeo
flickered as it moved on yet another minute to
8.47 p.m.
Danny sat low in the passenger seat as he pushed
forward the on/off switch on the side of the Taser
stun gun in his jacket pocket. A Taser would jolt
100,000 watts into a body when jammed against it,
and that was enough to instantly drop a small
horse.
Danny had got used to handling various longs
and shorts during his training, but the Taser felt
heavy and unfamiliar in his hand.
Drizzle had been falling for the past hour, dampening
the road surfaces and the parked vehicles so
that they gleamed in the streetlights. It was a light
but constant rain, enough to keep most pedestrians
off the streets.
Danny sighed. 'I think she fancies me.'
'Who?
'Storm, the blonde bombshell.'
Lee raised his eyebrows as he thought back to the
surveillance photographs he had taken of Storm at
the beginning of the operation. He was the one who
had come up with the nickname of the 'blonde
bombshell'. It fitted her perfectly.
'And what makes you think that?' said Lee, looking
at Danny.
'I dunno. The way she looks at me. And smiles.'
'Yeah, I can imagine. But don't get too carried
away – you've got a job to do, Danny boy.'
'I know, and I am. I'm just getting to know her,
like my granddad said.'
'Listen, Danny,' said Lee, more seriously. 'A word
of advice . . .'
'Yeah, I know: never mix business with pleasure.
And I'm not going to.'
'Good to hear it,' said Lee. 'Start messing with
women when you're on a job and it can mess with
your head. Women are clever, you know.'
Danny laughed. 'Oh, so you're the expert on
women, are you?'
'Not me, mate. You should talk to Phil – he's been
married three times.'
'Yeah?'
Lee nodded. 'Mind you, the last one walked out
on him a few years ago, so he obviously hasn't got
the hang of it yet, either.'
'How d'you know all this?'
'I've spent a lot of time with Phil since you got
your cushy office job. You get to chat up the girlfriend,
sit in a warm office shuffling the occasional
bit of paper, drinking poncy coffee four times a day
and we do the routine surveillance stuff. How fair is
that?'
Danny smiled. He was glad to be back at work
with Lee. But tonight wasn't routine. Tonight they
expected Mr Siddie Richards to pay a visit to the
Headingham residence.
It was a Wednesday, and Wednesday night was
one of the few occasions when the Headingham
twins were regularly apart. They took it in turns to
visit their widowed mother. When they were not off
on one of their foreign trips, she liked to see them
separately, on alternate weeks, so that she could
devote herself to one of her beloved sons on his
own.
Fergus had tipped off Siddie about the weekly
outings and he reckoned that the gang leader would
pick that Wednesday to make the home-alone twin
an offer he dare not refuse.
Lee peered out through the blurry windscreen,
then glanced over at Danny. 'So what you gonna do
when this is over?'
Danny shrugged. 'Dunno. Haven't thought about
it much.'
'You could come in with us, you know, the
Security Service. I might even give you a reference.
Or maybe you'd prefer to go over to the dark side
and do all that army SAS stuff like Phil and your
granddad.'
Danny looked at Lee: he had asked him about his
life at MI5, and while Lee hadn't told him much, he
got the impression that he loved the work. He
started to reply, then glanced up at the street ahead
and suddenly broke off to hit the pressel on the
Mondeo's gear stick.
'Stand by! Stand by! That's a grey Jaguar, four up,
approaching apartment building. Fergus acknowledge.'
Fergus's voice came back
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