Peggy was sitting at her desk, just beginning to think about what she and Tim would have for supper. Around her, a few colleagues were packing up for the day. The phone on her desk rang; she picked up the receiver. As she listened, the blood drained from her face. She ended the call, picked up a sheaf of papers from the desk and walked quickly out of the office.
Liz was putting papers in her security cupboard for the night when Peggy appeared in the doorway. Liz knew immediately from her expression that neither of them would be going home soon. She sat down heavily at the desk and waved Peggy to a chair.
‘What’s up?’
‘It’s from the internet café at the mosque. You know we’ve managed to work out from Boatman’s identifications that it’s being used by several of Bakri’s followers? They’re in touch with all sorts of radical Islamic groups, in London and Pakistan. Up to now it’s been general extremist chatter. But I’ve just heard that they’re talking about “silencing” someone.’
‘Oh, God. Who do they want to silence?’ said Liz, putting her head in her hands.
‘No names. But it’s someone at the New Springfield Mosque. That’s got to be Boatman.’
‘Yes, you’re right. He’s blown. At least, we’ve got to assume he is. We’re going to have to pull him out right away. Where’s Kanaan?’
‘He’s on holiday… back in the morning. He was going to see Boatman tomorrow evening.’
‘We can’t wait. I’ll get hold of Dave Armstrong – we need to move on this right away. You’d better brief Lamb Lincoln – tell him it’s urgent, top priority. We’ll need total A4 coverage. If there’s any problem, let me know and I’ll ring DG.’