As the Transit’s rear doors opened, and Woolf’s team of heavies spilled out, Tom cleared the Prius.

Vestey, wide awake now, had taken the precaution of pocketing a weapon and was struggling to reach it as he tried to undo the seatbelt. But it was all too late.

Woolf’s guys pulled the door open, grabbed the small .22 revolver from Vestey’s front jeans pocket as the belt was cut and, in a swift and smooth motion, bundled him into the back of the van.

The whole action took less than ten seconds and they were on their way.

Chapter 80

80

The safe-house was in the grounds of an old hospital, a modest pebbledash structure from the 1930s that had once been the home of the caretaker. Although it was superficially furnished like a normal house, the lack of detail among the uniform Ikea fittings – no postcards on the mantelpiece, no messages on the fridge, plus a lingering smell of disinfectant only just covering something organic and ominous – gave the place an institutional feel. A flat-screen monitor mounted above the kitchen counter showed a grainy image of Vestey seated at a table, his hands manacled to a bar. He had been there for four hours.

Tom was on his third coffee, wondering why he was there, when Woolf emerged, looking drained.

‘It’s hopeless. He’s saying nothing and I’m running out of ideas, not to mention time. Plus I’m getting to the point of wanting to resort to the sort of career-ending tactics we aren’t supposed to use on detainees any more.’

‘Let me have a go. You don’t get him. He’s still a soldier and that will never leave him. You spooks know nothing about people like him.’

‘Go for it, then. See what you can get out of him.’

Tom let himself into the room, and told the guard to unlock Vestey’s cuffs. The man hesitated. ‘Go on – there’ll be no drama.’

He did so, and lingered by the door.

Tom took the seat opposite. ‘You want a drink?’

Vestey made no response; his eyes were fixed on some invisible point in the middle distance. Tom filled the plastic mug that was on the table and pushed it towards him.

Vestey stayed in the same position.

‘Mick, you have to remember what they taught you. Your conduct-under-capture training? You take food and drink whenever you can because you don’t know when you’ll get more. Here.’ Tom placed the water closer.

It took a couple of seconds but Vestey broke his focus and drank the water as fast as he could – just as he’d been taught, in case it was taken away from him.