‘Indeed,’ said O’Brien. ‘I’ve got the new red lines for the Freedom Bill discussions with Thomas. They’re pretty much what he’s expecting, with one or two surprises. A media ban on hate preachers and former convicted terrorists for one. A crackdown on health tourists – no free NHS hospital treatment, not even in A&E, without proof of citizenship. And a ban on head coverings in state schools. Always negotiate with something new up your sleeve.’

‘Excellent. I’m sure they’re excellent. Lead on, O’Brien.’ The pair exited slowly from the room, towards the hospital kitchens.

#

New Scotland Yard, Victoria Embankment, London

Tennant shut down the file. Since the Israelis had shared their intel on the Global Islamic Defence and the links with Abu Mujahid, he had been pushing the intelligence agencies for anything on the organisation. What he had found confirmed his fears.

Until six weeks ago, the group had appeared dormant. Then, for no obvious reason, the GID had raised its profile with a burst of propaganda. The content was predictable and vitriolic – it was the usual railing at Western decadence, calls for a Caliphate and a recruitment drive aimed at disaffected European Muslims. Most featured the GID leader Mohammed Huzaifa, who was clearly attempting to make a name for himself. And there was also a call for supporters to take up arms at home. It was a new line for the GID which had previously focused its efforts on Syria and Iraq.

Tennant was deep in thought when the phone rang.

‘The Deputy Prime Minister on the line.’ The voice from the switchboard was expressionless as ever.

‘Thank you,’ said Tennant. There was a click and then the familiar accent.

‘Assistant Commissioner, apologies for ringing so late,’ she said.

‘No problem at all, ma’am,’ said Tennant. Was there something in her voice? Even more confidence, if such a thing was possible, and she’d called him Assistant Commissioner rather than Steven.

‘Wanted to give you an early heads-up,’ she said. ‘There’ll be more detail in the morning, but our new acting prime minister has asked me to take on the role of Home Secretary, a huge honour, as I’m sure you realise. Obviously, I’ll be joining the National Security Council in addition to attending pre-COBRA briefings at Number Ten. In the light of that, I want a full update from you and MI5 on current threats and investigations. Fairly urgently, if you please.’

For a moment, Tennant was lost for words. Of all the people to assign to national security, Hogarth was the least qualified, and most unreliable. What was Ben Thomas thinking? Tread carefully, he told himself.

‘Nothing substantially new to add, ma’am,’ he said. ‘We’re getting intel in all the time, of course, but filtering out the good from bad is time-consuming. We believe we have identified a possible new cell, managed by the returner Abu Mujahid. Goals and location currently unknown.’ That was a bit of a fudge, but close enough, he thought.

‘I’m sure you realise that the regime and expectations of the police will be very different under Ben and me, and for the better, I’m sure you’ll agree,’ said Hogarth. ‘These are difficult times and we need our security and police to step up to the mark.’ She paused. ‘Have you still got Sophie Gabriel on the case?’