Page 36 of End Game
They all looked down on the largest stage in the world. For now, it remained in darkness, waiting to reveal its myriad surprises to the world. The crowd was growing by the minute, every seat and box busy with chatter and excitement.
As Julian looked around, he became aware that several young men, and some not so young, were taking more than a passing interest in Jojo. She feigned not to notice.
‘I think I’ll just go and get something to drink,’ Jojo announced, as she rose from her place and made her way slowly along the packed row before walking up the steps to the nearest exit.
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When two phones started ringing at once, William picked up both at the same time. ‘Which one of you has the more urgent problem?’ he asked.
‘Me,’ said Paul. ‘We’ve lost the van. A local officer followed what they thought was the vehicle, but when they pulled it over, there was only one occupant, and it was full of groceries. Meaning the vehicle the call was really about may still be on its way to London. They must have swapped number plates before coming off the motorway.’
William cursed. ‘And the latest your end, Ross?’
‘We’ve located five different groups of cyclists all waiting to set out for the tunnel, seemingly with a single purpose.’
‘I thought you told me you had it under control,’ said William.
‘I did,’ replied Ross. ‘We identified four meeting points on the other side of the river and have already detained over a hundred of the riders, and confiscated their bikes before they could cross the Thames.’
‘What about the fifth group?’ asked William, all the while keeping his eyes on the CCTV screens in front of him. If the cyclists were a distraction, then above all, he must not allow himself to be distracted. There was so much at stake tonight, and he couldn’t afford to miss a single thing. He would have given nearly anything at that moment to be able to find out what was going on in Miles Faulkner’s head.
‘The fifth group managed to cross the river by cycling across Waterloo Bridge on the wrong side of the road, fooling the inspector on duty – a recently promoted graduate entrant,’ Ross couldn’t resist adding.
‘That’s all I need,’ said William. ‘So how many cyclists are now on the loose and heading for the tunnel?’
‘Thirty, possibly forty,’ admitted Ross.
‘Which means,’ said William, ‘if the Queen still hopes to arrive at the stadium before Mr Bond makes his appearance, you’ll have to intercept every one of them long before they reach the tunnel.’
‘Perhaps you could ask the royal chauffeur to put his foot down,’ suggested Ross.
‘Not a hope. No member of the royal family would consider breaking the speed limit unless security considers their life is in danger,’ said William. ‘Stay on the line while I speak to Paul.’
He looked up at another screen and watched a Bentley as it left the palace and proceeded slowly down the Mall, accompanied by four outriders in front, two unmarked black Jaguars behind, and a blue van with a doctor on board following behind them, with four more outriders bringing up the rear. William accepted that if HM wasn’t willing to break the speed limit, it was going to be a close-run thing. He had no fingers left to cross.
William transferred his attention back to Paul.
‘I’ve just received an update, sir,’ said Paul. ‘A black van with two occupants has been spotted heading in the direction of the tunnel. It’s the same make and model as the one that came off the ferry.’
‘If it gets within a mile of the tunnel, pull them over for speeding,’ said William.
‘But it hasn’t broken the speed limit once, sir.’
‘Which only makes me even more suspicious,’ said William. ‘Detain both occupants and, even if it is a false alarm, don’t release them until the opening ceremony is over.’
He put the receiver down and once again looked up at a CCTV screen to see Her Majesty’s entourage making slow but steady progress along the Embankment. His eyes moved from screen to screen, checking for anything that didn’t look right. Most of the cameras within the Olympic Stadium showed him nothing more than excited spectators waiting for the off. He turned his attention back to the phone and said, ‘Latest?’
‘They’re down to twenty-nine cyclists,’ said Ross, ‘but they’re now only a couple of miles away from the tunnel. I also have a helicopter hovering abovethem: India 9-9, who are keeping us informed of their latest positions. But I still can’t be sure who will reach the tunnel first: the black van, the remaining cyclists or the Queen.’
‘Could it be possible,’ said William, ‘that the van driver knows exactly what the cyclists are up to, and is only there to make sure they reach the tunnel before the Queen?’ He switched his attention to a different screen, to see Faulkner talking on his mobile. A conversation William would have liked to have overheard, and if they’d been in Russia, would have done. ‘Move every available officer to within a mile of the stadium. Give them orders to stop the van and arrest any cyclist still heading in the direction of the tunnel.’
‘Anycyclist?’ repeated Ross.
‘You heard me correctly the first time, Sergeant,’ said William. ‘I can’t afford to discriminate between someone out on an innocent evening ride and someone whose sole intention is to reach the tunnel ahead of the Queen. Remember, we have no idea what these people in the van have planned. Whoever it is may be a great deal more dangerous than a group of protesting cyclists. And even if all they are is a distraction to gain more publicity, we still can’t afford to risk it. If Her Majesty doesn’t reach the tunnel in time, I’ll have to send her back to Buckingham Palace, because she won’t be jumping out of a car, let alone a helicopter, with or without James Bond.’
William stared back up at the screen, aware that his reputation – and the success of the Olympics – was in the hands of the unknown driver of a black van and twenty-nine determined fanatics. If the Queen didn’t get to the stadium on time, she wouldn’t be the only person who would be going home early.
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