Chapters (37)
- Cover
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Thirty-Three
- Chris Ryan Readers’ Club?
- Letter from Author
- About the Author
‘Someone should double-check the backgrounds of the catering staff,’ Bowman said.
‘Why?’ Studley demanded.
‘They might try to repeat the trick. Sneak in another assassin dressed as a waitress.’
‘We’ll mention it to Five. For now, we stick to the plan as agreed.’
Studley looked round, daring the other guys on the team to defy him.
‘Get into your positions,’ he added. ‘I’ll see you again when the principal leaves. You see or hear anything suspicious, tell us immediately.’
Studley turned and swept back through the Abbey door, Lomas hard on his heels. They moved off to the right just inside the nave, taking up their positions in the small chapel to the side of the entrance. From their vantage point they would have a clear view of anyone coming in or out through the main entrance. Bowman and Kember would set themselves up at an elevated position in the muniment room, overlooking the guests seated around the quire and the transepts.
As Bowman moved to follow the others inside, his eyes were drawn back to the kiosk. An ambulance had pulled up at the side of the road, lights pulsing. Two paramedics jumped down from the cabin and wheeled a gurney across the concrete towards the three police officers huddled around the suspect. To anyone watching nearby, it would look like an officer had fainted and was being escorted to hospital for treatment. A trivial event. The story would merit a line or two in tomorrow’s newspapers, buried beneath an avalanche of stories about the wedding itself.
Kember watched the paramedics and let out a breath. ‘Shit, this thing is really happening.’
‘It was always real,’ Bowman said. ‘I’ve been saying that all along.’
‘Yeah, well. Who knew these rebels were capable of staging an attack like this? Disguising one of their own as a cop, for Christ’s sake.’
The paramedics slid a plastic stretcher under the suspect. On a count of three they hoisted him on to the gurney. Once he was secure the medics manoeuvred him towards the rear of the ambulance, flanked by the three police officers.
‘One thing’s for sure,’ Bowman said.
‘What’s that, fella?’
Bowman looked back at his colleague.
‘We’re dealing with professionals. We got lucky this time. But if the next attack is as well planned as this one, we’re in serious trouble.’
Four
Four