Knife Edge

5.16 P.M.

Silence fell upon the room.

Both Mason and Calloway looked at Doyle, who took the cigarette from his lips and stubbed it out, watching the plume of smoke rise lazily into the air. 'Did you hear what I said?' Neville asked.

Doyle didn't answer.

'We heard,' Calloway responded.

'Forget it, Neville, I'm not playing your fucking games,' Doyle told him.

'Then a lot more people are going to die, aren't they?' Neville reminded him.

'What do you want Doyle to do?' Calloway said.

Doyle shot him an angry glance, but the DI held up a restraining hand.

'Like I said, I want him to bring me my daughter,' Neville continued. 'No tricks, no double-cross. If he tries to pull anything I'll let off another bomb.'

'You'll do it anyway,' Doyle said dismissively.

'You'll have to trust me not to,' Neville chuckled.

'I wouldn't trust you to tell me what day of the week it was,' Doyle snarled.

'Here's the deal,' Neville began. 'Doyle brings Lisa to me and I won't detonate the other bombs. Any fucking about and I'll let all of them blow and that includes the big one.'

'I thought you were saving that one until eight o'clock,' Doyle said mockingly.

'Only if I don't get what I want.'

'If you blow them all you've got nothing to bargain with,' Doyle pointed out.

'Maybe, but you've got an awful lot of dead bodies on your hands if I do.'

'He'll do it,' Mason interjected.

'Don't you tell me what I will or won't do,' Doyle hissed.

'Come on, Doyle,' Neville continued. 'You wanted to find me, didn't you? I'm giving you the chance. Bring Lisa to me and you'll find me.'

'Yeah, pointing a fucking gun at my head.'

'That's a possibility,' Neville sniggered. 'So, what do you say?'

'I want to know what your game is, Neville. What's all this about? Or don't you even know any more? Is it about your daughter or is it about what went on in Ireland? You can't change it now. You can't change the past, or the future. It's over out there.'

'Maybe not.'

'What's that supposed to mean?'

'Bombs in London, bombs in Belfast, bombs in Dublin. One city's the same as another.'

Doyle stroked his chin thoughtfully.

Bombs in Dublin.

'What the hell's he talking about?' Calloway demanded.

'He's bluffing,' Doyle said.

'Can you take that chance, Doyle?' Neville teased.

The counter terrorist was pacing the office, head bowed slightly. He swept one hand through his long hair and sucked in a deep breath.

'London today, Dublin or Belfast tomorrow,' Neville continued. 'Unless I get what I want. Unless you bring me what I want. Is it a deal?'

Take the kid. Get close to Neville. Kill the cunt.

'I'm not going to wait all fucking night, Doyle. Yes or no?'

Do it. How else are you going to find him?

'Tell me the deal.'

'Is that a yes?' Neville pressed.

'You know it is,' Doyle growled.

I'm coming to get you, shithead.

'I knew I could count on you, Doyle,' Neville laughed. 'We're two of a kind. I'm going to send you and Lisa on a little journey first, before I meet you. I'll tell you where to go and when. Just make sure you listen carefully to what I say. I'll call back with the first set of instructions.'

He hung up.

'Bastard!' Doyle shouted, then, turning to Calloway, 'I've got to talk to Julie Neville. Where is she?'

'A car is bringing her, Kenneth Baxter and the little girl here.'

'Well, let me know as soon as they get here,' Doyle instructed, heading for the door. 'Someone's got to tell Julie Neville what we're going to do with her daughter.'

'Where are you going?' Calloway asked.

'There's something I've got to do,' Doyle told him.