‘Well, forgive me if I don’t believe you on that one, pal.’ Realising that time was limited and any further discussion was pointless, Tom produced his own iPhone, enabled the camera function and said, ‘Smile, sweetheart.’ He took a headshot of the man, forced his feet fully inside the Audi and slammed the door shut.

Tom estimated that the whole encounter, from incapacitating Martin to slamming the door, had taken approximately three minutes. He needed to get moving quickly as, inevitably, Martin would not be alone.

He slung the now-heavier rucksack over his shoulder and made his way back to his car. The street was clear and he looked around, hoping he hadn’t been spotted. He made a snap decision; he had to get off the street somewhere safe, to get his thoughts together and plan his next move. One thing was clear: he couldn’t trust anyone in the job. There was at least one bent bastard and probably more. Given that they’d managed to track him quickly, they were also probably highly placed, with access to all police systems. Worryingly, they also had to have the highest levels of clearance and the ability to use the most secret and sensitive intelligence tools available. His mind raced, and only one name hit him as someone he could trust and who might be able to help.

Mike Brogan. Mike still owed him a big favour from that day in Iraq.

13

Tom planned as he drove along Grays Inn Road towards Kings Cross. First job was to get off the street and out of the area. He couldn’t go back home; not at that moment in any case. Whoever was tracking him would surely have it staked out as the first port of call. He needed somewhere anonymous, preferably in an area unconnected to him where he could blend in while he collected his thoughts.

He had only once chance of survival at that moment. By going dark.

He didn’t know who was his ally and who was his enemy. All the normal methods were redundant; the people looking for him clearly had access to all the resources he’d normally use to track down the most serious criminals.

He made his way out west through the heavy traffic towards the A40 and decided to head towards Uxbridge. It was conveniently placed for him to head wherever he needed to go once he’d spoken to Mike. It was an area of London he’d never worked in but was familiar with from his military days. On occasion he’d flown from the nearby RAF base when deploying on snap operations around the world, and he knew that the area was busy enough but not so rampant with CCTV as Central London.