He went to his operational bag and retrieved his camera case, picking out a new SD card. Using the same lightning SD card port he had used the day before, he transferred the footage from his phone onto the blank card. The evidence contained on that small square of plastic and metal now held enormous importance and he had to protect it at all costs.

Who could he trust? The only name he was confident in was Neil Wilkinson, the head of the undercover unit. He picked up his phone and dialled.

‘Tom, where are you?’

Not even a greeting. Neil was always to-the-point, but that was brusque even for him.

‘At home. What’s up?’ asked Tom, feeling a rising sense of unease.

‘We’ve just received a credible threat against you via the main informant’s handler. The Serbs had Ivan up against a wall at some point overnight. He’s played dumb but they know you’re an undercover and, even worse, they know your true identity and that you live in Camden.’ Neil’s normal calm manner was gone, replaced with urgency and concern.

This is a fucking disaster, thought Tom. He wasn’t safe, and he had to get out: now.

‘How quickly can you get yourself to a nick? I’m calling witness protection now. We need some time to assess the risk and get something sorted. Liam’s just told me about the SD card and your copy: do you still have it?’

Tom paused, his mind ticking over, assessing all the options. The SD card; that was what they wanted, and he knew they would do anything to get it.

‘I still have it, it’s safe,’ he said, calmly. ‘Who got hold of Ivan?’

‘The Brankos. They were fuming, apparently, and he only just managed to bluff his way out of it. They said they have men out looking for you and you’re going to get silenced permanently. Adebayo is making it clear there’s money on your head. Jesus, this is fucked up, Tom. I’m sorry.’

‘I thought the Brankos were out of the country? That’s what they told me.’

‘Well it seems they’re back and it also seems that their dad, Zjelko, is with them. He got out of jail in Switzerland on early release. This ups the ante. He’s very well connected and is a fully made member of the Serb mafia.’

Tom replied calmly, ‘I’ll get up to Holborn. Who shall I go and see?’

Neil sighed, the stress obvious in his voice. ‘Get yourself to the Borough Commander’s office. Mark Willis: you know him?’

‘I know him, he was there when I was; he’s a good guy. I’m leaving now.’

‘Get out of there now, Tom: they must know your address by now. Talk to no one but Mark Willis; we don’t know who we can trust.’