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Previous chapters: one


The three men stood on the narrow pavement outside the pub.  Penhelleck was speaking to Wilké.  Sommer continued clicking away with the Olympus.

“Where’s Connelly?” asked Jessica.

“He’ll be back in Camborne.  He’s just the gofer; Penhelleck and Tregowan are the players.”

The two men turned away from Wilké, and walked past the Turk’s Head towards St Mary’s and the promenade.  Wilké headed the other way.

“Let B an’ H know India One an’ Two are en route,” Sommer told Jessica.

She took her Airwaves handset from her belt.

“Forget it,” said Moon.

“Guv?” asked Sommer.

Wilké stopped outside a shop called Celtic Pine.  He put his hands in his pockets, and examined the window display. 

“No more surveillance once he’s made contact.  That’s how we’re playing this one.”

“You sure, guv?”

“Not negotiable, John.  We’re not gonna cock this up because we’ve been shown out.”  Moon turned to Jessica.  “Leave it.”

She put the radio away.  “That means he’s all on his own?”

“When you’ve been in the squad long enough to know Red Action from the White Wolves, you can open your mouth,” Moon snarled.  “Until then, shut it.”  Jessica blushed under her freckles.  “What the fuck’s he still doing outside the shop?”

“Probably giving us plenty of time to make him,” said Sommer.  He turned to Jessica.  “That’s the signal: if he walks past, it’s off; if he goes in, we’re in play.”

“Meanin’ the Brigade have recruited him?”

“Yeah.  If he goes in.”  Sommer took the camera from the tripod.  Moon put his monocular away.    

“What does he think he’s been recruited for?” asked Jessica.

“To let us know if the raid gets cancelled, and to make sure we don’t have no civvy casualties,” said Sommer. 

She nodded.  It made perfect sense.  Wilké would have no reason to doubt them.  She wondered if and when he’d realise he’d been lied to.

Down on the street, Wilké walked across the shop entrance to look at the second window. 

“Come on, come on,” said Moon, “What’s it gonna be?” 

Wilké hesitated a little while longer, then appeared to make up his mind, and marched into the shop. 

“Game on!”  Moon punched the air.



Continued next month


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