In the fumbling and jostling, his hand slipped and the phone dropped to the floor. He flinched back and swung at the phone with his foot, sending it scurrying into the gutter. The woman dived, a look of anxiety across her face.

Had he done it? Was it safe?

The woman stood up. She held the phone above her head and her smile told Houghton that he had failed.

‘On the floor, you’re nicked,’ the voice yelled in his ear as he was pushed down, his arms pulled tight behind his back, his face in a gritty puddle. ‘You are under arrest for conspiracy to commit a terrorist act.’ The officer cautioned him, as he struggled and kicked, and then bent closer to his ear. ‘And cheers for the phone. That’ll be really handy.’

The woman was standing in front of him now, panting. She held the phone in one hand, pressing the home button from time to time to stop it locking. A police car pulled up and she got in the back. The car, with its extraordinary load, accelerated down the street with lights flashing.

#

CTOC, St Pancras, London

‘What have we got?’ said Gabriel as she entered the conference room, dropping her coat and bags on the floor.

Skeffington turned to the screen.

‘Digital forensics have downloaded the data image from Houghton’s phone and they’re still working on it. For now, we’ve got his text messages and WhatsApp,’ said Skeffington. ‘It’s a burner, only used to reach one number, the contact in Leeds. It’s obvious that Houghton was planning an attack, although the details are not clear. This message was sent a week ago.’

The message appeared on the screen: Package received. Will collect remaining goods tomorrow. Vehicle D confirmed as suitable.

Skeffington continued: ‘And then this a day later.’

Another text message came on the screen. Pitch confirmed.

Gabriel stood up to look at the messages more closely. ‘Pitch? What kind of pitch? Business pitch? Sports event?’ She mulled over the word.

Skeffington interrupted her thoughts. ‘Finally this, from earlier in the week.’

A third text appeared. On rota as passenger. Will bring driver to house and swap there.

Skeffington’s phone went off. He spoke briefly before ending the call. ‘That was forensics, ma’am, with an update. They’ve just gone through the web browser. They reckoned they’ve identified the target. If forensics are right, the attack is today. We’ve got four hours.’

#

This time there was no need for Gabriel to subdue the babble of voices as she stood up. Word of Houghton’s arrest had gone around the building and there was silence in the largest conference room as she walked to the front.

‘You’ll have heard that Rod Houghton is enjoying the hospitality of Bow Street and that we’ve got his phone unlocked. Congratulations to the team who pulled that off.’ She nodded in the direction of the undercover team to the left of the room. There was a ripple of applause and a ‘Sheer fucking luck’ from the back.