Mickey went outside to find them arranging the package running order. Three bikes out front. Then a Jaguar saloon. After that the Sentinel Rangie, then another Jag. The tail being two more bikes. More like a warband than a protection team, really. Six uniformed officers in the two saloons, both three up. Driver, navigator and observer. And five fluorescent-jacketed riders. All armed. Enough firepower to front up to an infantry platoon, at close range. Mickey, recognising Maisie and Sean, waved a hand in greeting, then found himself engulfed in a Kev-sized bear hug.

‘Mickey fucking Bale! I nearly told them to poke this job where the sun don’t shine, y’know? I’m three days from my thirty, right, so why would I want to be out at this time of a Sunday night? Then they told me you was skipper for the whole thing. And I was in like a shot.’

Mickey saw his opportunity.

‘Really? I only volunteered for this because they said you were Easy Rider for the night!’

Kev looked at him for a moment, unsure if it was true or just a wind-up. Then realised, a second too late, he’d been had.

‘Smart-arse!’

The two men grinned at each other, then Mickey’s mind dropped back into pro mode. ‘We’ve got about half an hour to get the route sorted.’ He beckoned to the Hall. ‘Shall we? I reckon we can use the lounge, since it’s unlikely there’ll be anyone else in it. Wade mate, can you get the kitchen to rustle us up some tea and a bit of cake or something? It’s going to be a long evening, by the time we get back.’

Sat in the lounge on sofas, chairs and pouffes, cups of tea and hastily cut slices of sponge cake going down nicely, Kev outlined his proposed route.

‘Normally I’d be taking us straight into London, east as far as Marble Arch and then south down to Vauxhall Bridge. But given the strongly emphasised need for this package to be low profile…’

He shot a knowing look at Mickey. Who thought yeah, you know when you’ve been Jasmined.

‘I’m recommending that we turn south earlier. Cross the river via Battersea Bridge, then east again on the A3205 to the embassy. Whose security, I’m told, will be ready for us. And won’t leave us out on the road like a fucking great big target.’

He looked round the room, his gaze answered with nods and thumbs up. Universal agreement.

‘OK, secondary route. Same route into London, but if the road south to Battersea is blocked for any reason then we’ll cut down through Fulham. Everyone good with that?’

More nods.

‘And if they both go tits up then we’ll just have to find another way on the fly. Probably into town via Victoria, which would have been my first choice anyway. Mickey?’