Maisie was equally quick coming back. Knowing what her skipper wanted. A chance to get the convoy rerouted before they drove into the back of the resulting jam. And before management tried to prove their value by offering help. Time to let SEG do what they did best.

‘Working Two, is there any way through?’

Kev cutting to the heart of the matter. A binary question, no messing.

‘Negative, Easy Rider. We’re just on-scene, carriageway is completely blocked. Looks like the bus tried to avoid the casualty and hit the central barrier. Plus multiple collisions behind the bus blocking all four lanes.’

‘All received, Working Two. Break break. Rampage Bronze Command, Easy Rider. Recommend switch to secondary route.’

‘Easy Rider, Rampage Bronze Command, secondary route approved.’

Smooth as a greased weasel, Mickey thought. Allowing the breath he’d subconsciously been holding to hiss out. Out front Kev was taking the convoy round the Victoria Memorial in a slow one-eighty. Talking fast to his Working Bikes. Doing what he did best.

‘All Working callsigns, Easy Rider, rerouting to secondary, repeat rerouting to secondary. Turning right, right, right, Mall eastbound.’

Mickey grinned, imagining the clenching sphincters at the change of plan. Senior officers hating little with more passion than circumstances spiralling out of their control. The advance riders would now be blue lighting their way east across Mayfair, heading for Regent Street. While Kev’s front running Working Bikes were haring back up the Mall towards Trafalgar Square. Never the easiest of junctions to close at the best of times.

‘Secondary route, Skip?’

Mickey shot Wade a disgusted look.

‘Really? Presumably you were on the nest all night. Which would explain the lost brain cells where the route plan should be residing.’ The two officers in the back sniggering. ‘The Secondary, Constable Harris, is Mall, Trafalgar Square and left Cockspur Street, Haymarket Street, Coventry Street, Regent Street, Langham Place, Portland Place, left Park Crescent, Park Square West, left Ulster Terrace, Outer Circle, right Winfield House.’ Putting on a passable Aleksandr Orlov voice. ‘Simples.’

The motorcade progressed north smoothly enough. Carving a twenty-vehicle path through London’s afternoon traffic. Working Bikes doing their assertive whistle and raised hand act at every junction. Momentarily freezing cars and buses in place at the sight of an armed copper on a fast bike staring them down. Palm unequivocally held up. All progressing well until, without warning, it suddenly wasn’t. The traffic in front of the lead Working Bikes going from moderate to solid in thirty seconds.

‘Easy Rider, Working Three. Portland Place is jammed. Cause unclear.’

‘Working Three, Easy Rider. Determine cause of blockage and attempt to resolve.’ Kev’s brain probably doing somersaults by now. ‘Break break. Working One and Two, Easy Rider. Backtrack to Portland Place and clear blockage from the northern side.’ The veteran skipper thinking faster than anyone else could. ‘Break break. Romeo Control and Bronze Command. Easy Rider. Next cross street is New Cavendish Street, potential dogleg west.’