Ultimatum

Sixty

20.13

The whole world sounded muffled to Tina, as if someone had stuffed her ears full of cotton wool. She got to her feet unsteadily and looked around. Everyone seemed to be moving in slow motion, their voices sounding distant and alien as they hurried towards her.

It took her a few seconds to de-scramble her senses and work out what had happened. The bomb blast had come as she’d been crossing the road, its force, and her own instincts, sending her sprawling across the concrete. She looked back to see the first floor of Azim Butt’s house completely ablaze, with gouts of flame and thick plumes of smoke pouring out of the blackened window frames. Chunks of masonry of varying sizes, from half bricks to foot-square lumps, some on fire, dotted the road in front of the building, and Tina was immediately relieved she hadn’t been hit by one of them.

And then, as her eyes focused on the scene, she saw a body in front of the garden wall.

Shit. Mike.

Feeling a rush of panic, Tina ran over to where he lay and knelt down beside him. His eyes were closed and there was a cut on the back of his head that was leaking blood, but it was difficult to tell how deep it was. She called his name, hardly able to hear the sound of her own voice, still partially deafened by the blast, terrified that something had happened to him, and appreciating at the same time the depth of her feelings for him.

Then his eyes opened and he stared up at her and she had this sudden urge to lean down and kiss him.

‘Are you all right?’ she asked, trying hard to keep the air of desperation out of her voice.

‘I think so.’

He started to get up, but his legs went from under him and he stumbled into Tina, almost knocking her over.

‘It’s all right, I’ve got you,’ she said, just about managing to hold him up.

Turning round, she shouted for help, and a group of CO19 officers ran over, followed closely by two paramedics with a stretcher.

‘Christ, my head hurts,’ said Bolt as he was lifted on to the stretcher by the assembled group.

‘Don’t worry,’ said one of the paramedics, ‘we’ll have you in the hospital in no time.’

Bolt shook his head, squinting against the pain as they carried him away from the blazing building. ‘No way. Treat me here. I haven’t got time to go to hospital.’

‘I’d do as she says, Mike,’ said Tina, who was walking alongside the stretcher, wanting to hold his hand, but knowing it wouldn’t be right. He didn’t look good, though.

‘I’m OK,’ he said, trying to sit up, but not quite making it.

The paramedic started to say something else but Bolt cut her off by leaning over the side of the stretcher and throwing up, only just missing Tina’s feet.

At that moment, his mobile rang inside his jacket. He looked up at Tina, frowning as he tried hard to focus. ‘Can you answer my phone?’

She nodded, reached inside his jacket and pulled it out, as the paramedics put him into the back of the ambulance.

‘Mike Bolt’s phone. Tina Boyd speaking.’

‘This is Commander Ingrams, CTC Control. What’s happening down there?’

Tina told him about the booby-trap bomb.

‘How bad’s Mike hurt?’ asked Ingrams, sounding genuinely concerned.

‘I think he’s concussed, but he’s conscious and fairly lucid. They’ve just put him in an ambulance. Have we managed to locate the suspect in the Shogun yet?’

‘No. We’re throwing a huge security cordon round the whole area, but there’s no sign of him.’ Ingrams exhaled loudly. ‘And we’ve got another problem too. There’s a major riot at the prison where they’re holding William Garrett. One wing’s been completely taken over by the prisoners and now there’s a disturbance in a second one.’

Tina thought back to the conversation she’d had with the prison officer, Thomson. How he’d described the prison as a tinder box, a place that only functioned because the prisoners allowed it to. And now it seemed they’d decided to stop cooperating.

‘Is Fox OK?’ she asked.

‘It was his wing it started in, but they managed to get him out. Apparently there was a second attempt on his life. It failed and he’s unhurt, but it sounds like he was lucky.’

‘He told me this would happen. It’s not a coincidence.’

‘I know it’s not,’ said Ingrams. ‘I understand Garrett told you he’d name the people involved today if he was moved to a safehouse, and offered some kind of deal.’

‘That’s the gist of it, yes.’

‘We’re in the process of organizing his move to a safehouse right now, but as you can imagine, it’s a very sensitive issue, particularly in light of what’s happened today. I want you to stay by your phone tonight because if he’s moved, I want you to talk to him again. You’ve clearly developed some kind of rapport.’

‘Thank you, sir.’

‘There’s something else as well. We’ve just sent two detectives to the pub where they were meant to meet Mike’s informant, but he wasn’t there. We need to debrief the informant urgently, as I understand he was the person who told us about the missile. Yet no one seems to have any contact details for him.’

‘I’ll speak to Mike now.’

Tina ended the call, and looked over the growing throng of emergency services vehicles towards where the Shard stood, dominating the skyline, its austere beauty brutally violated by what had just happened.

The people responsible had won the battle, but she was as determined as she’d ever been that they weren’t going to win this particular war.