William focused his binoculars on the Russian and Chinese ambassadors, who had just arrived and taken their seats in a diplomatic box.
‘What do those two know that I don’t?’ said William.
‘It can’t be a terrorist attack,’ said Paul, ‘or they wouldn’t be sitting in a box enjoying a glass of champagne.’
‘Unless their presence is proof they couldn’t have been involved.’
‘You’d have been a match for Rasputin,’ said Rebecca.
‘And don’t forget that he was a Russian,’ said William.
•••
‘So, what happens next?’ asked Booth Watson.
Miles checked his watch. ‘A van and at least thirty cyclists will be on their way by now,’ replied Faulkner, ‘and they should all reach the tunnel well ahead of the Queen.’
‘How will we know if your plan has worked?’
‘Her Majesty may well jump out of the helicopter on time, but when the lights come back on, she won’t be sitting in the Royal Box.’
‘Embarrassing,’ admitted Booth Watson, ‘but I don’t think it will stop the ceremony from going ahead.’
‘You could be right,’ said Miles, ‘but it will give them’ – he once again looked across in the direction of the two ambassadors – ‘and their undersecretaries all the time they need to carry out Operation Blackout.’
•••
‘So, tell me young lady,’ said Julian. ‘Are you any nearer to getting your exclusive?’
‘A little nearer,’ admitted Artemisia, as she gazed down at the unlit stage below. ‘I still somehow need to get into the athletes’ village without anyone realizing I’m a journalist.’
‘You’re about the right age to pass for an athlete,’ said Julian, ‘but it still won’t be easy to fool security without some form of accreditation.’
‘Easier than you think,’ said Artemisia conspiratorially. ‘You can purchase an official British team tracksuit from any gift shop in the Olympic Park.’
‘But that doesn’t solve the accreditation problem,’ Robert reminded her, as Jojo returned, carrying five bottles of water, enjoying the attention she pretended to ignore.
‘Ross has already shown me how to get hold of a pass,’ said Artemisia.
‘You’re worse than Peter and his ticket tout,’ said Julian.
‘Don’t forget, we’re twins,’ said Artemisia.
‘Just let’s hope your father never finds out.’
‘If Dad even began to suspect what I have in mind,’ said Artemisia, ‘he’d lock me up in my old bedroom until the Games are over.’
•••
‘It’s going to be a close-run thing,’ said Ross when the Queen’s Bentley was about a mile away from the tunnel. ‘One cyclist is already ahead of her, with another half a dozen not far behind, all of them breaking the speed limit.’
‘And the black van?’ demanded William, as he watched a lone cyclist approach the tunnel, followed by four police motorcyclists and a Bentley. His eyes flicked back for a moment to the CCTV screen where Miles Faulkner sat in his box, checking his watch again.
‘Stopped and questioned half a mile from the tunnel,’ said Ross.
‘Did the occupants have anything to say for themselves?’ asked William.
‘No, but there turned out to be six people in the back’ said Ross, ‘and no sooner had we stopped them than they put up a fight, which kept a dozen of my officers well occupied for some considerable time, while several cyclists sailed past them.’