Knife Edge

6.29 P.M.

Doyle stood still, hands on thighs, bent forward at the waist, sucking in lungfuls of air.

Lisa watched him, her eyes drawn to the scar on his left cheek.

She took a step towards him, mesmerised by the old wound, wanting to touch it, to trace the outline of the mark which ran from his eye to his jaw.

'Does that hurt?'

'What?' Doyle managed, perspiration dripping from his chin, splashing on the pavement at his feet.

'That,' Lisa persisted and touched the scar.

Doyle gripped her wrist gently and held her, looking into her eyes.

Lisa looked fearful, then Doyle released her, even managed a small smile.

'It doesn't hurt,' he said softly.

It did when it first happened.

'It happened a long time ago,' he continued.

How long? Five years? Ten?

He straightened up.

Who fucking cared?

As Doyle pulled the mobile phone from the back pocket of his jeans it rang.

'Doyle, are you OK?' said the voice and he recognised it immediately as belonging to Calloway.

'I didn't make it in time.'

'We know that. Another bomb went off about thirty seconds ago.'

'Oh Christ. Where?'

'Baker Street, close to Madame Tussauds. We don't know the extent of the damage or the casualties yet.'

'Shit,' Doyle hissed.

'What happened?' Calloway asked. 'How come you didn't get to the phone in time?'

Doyle thought about hurling the phone away then decided against it.

'Do you want to come and do this? You're lucky it didn't happen earlier.'

'What about the next set of instructions?'

'I haven't had them. He hung up, then detonated the bomb.'

'Where are you now?'

'Cambridge Circus, outside the Palace Theatre.'

The third phone rang again.

Doyle snatched it up and pressed it to his ear.

'You're still there,' said Neville. 'I had a feeling you might be, waiting for your next set of orders.'

'You don't give me orders, Neville. Nobody does,' Doyle snarled.

'As long as I've got the Semtex, I give the orders, Mister Counter Terrorist.' Neville chuckled. 'It is ironic, isn't it? All those years chasing the IRA, while I was chasing them too. Now you're chasing me. Makes you laugh, doesn't it?'

'I'm pissing myself.'

Holding the mobile phone away from him, Doyle could still hear Calloway's voice but it sounded so distant now, swallowed up by the din of traffic. He switched off the mobile and returned his attention to Neville.

'Whatever the fuck you want, get on with it,' he said irritably.

'You know what I want.'

'Yeah, and I'm getting sick of hearing about it.'

'Tough. This game goes on for as long as I want it to.'

'Until eight o'clock, you mean. The big one,' said Doyle. 'Or are you full of shit?'

'What do you think, Doyle?'

'I think you're fucking dead when I find you.'

'Shut up and listen. Liverpool Street station, public phones on the concourse close to WH Smith. You've got thirty minutes. Don't fuck it up again, Doyle.'

Doyle pressed the required digits on the mobile and the call was answered immediately.

'Neville called back.'

Calloway wanted to know the next location.

Doyle told him.

'Keep away, Calloway,' Doyle ordered. 'And you make sure none of your boys get involved. You know Neville's not fucking about. I'll take care of him.'

'Doyle, Mrs Neville wants to talk to you,' the DI said.

'No time,' Doyle told him and switched off the mobile.

DS Colin Mason had sat listening to the conversation with Doyle over the speaker-phone in Calloway's office. Now he made his way down the corridor to his own office and slipped inside, almost furtively.

The two-way was lying on his desk. It took him seconds to find the frequency he sought, a deafening blast of static signalling its discovery.

This had gone on too long.

Neville was making them look like idiots, the fucking maniac.

Something had to be done, Mason knew that. He also knew his superior was not the man to do it.

Nor was Doyle.

The arrogant bastard.

Neville had to be stopped and, as far as Mason was concerned, there was only one way to do it. More bombs or not.

'Osprey One, come in, over,' he said into the two-way.

Then he waited for the police helicopter to reply.