Stephen Leather - The Bombmaker

Katie made the sign of the cross on her chest. 'Cross my heart and swear to die,' she said solemnly.

Canning shook his head. 'I can't let you go, Katie. Not yet. I'm sorry.'

– «»-«»-«»Andy lay on a sofa in the reception area, a big, sprawling sofa with huge cushions that seemed to fold around her like clouds. It had been just over four days since Katie had been kidnapped, and during those four days Andy's life had been turned upside down. Her daughter had been taken from her, she'd been forced to fly to London, she'd been kidnapped herself by three masked terrorists and told that she was to build a massive bomb in the City of London. Now here she was, sleeping on a sofa nine storeys up in an office block, under surveillance from hidden cameras, awaiting the arrival of the components of a bomb that, if successfully-detonated, could lay waste to several city blocks. As she drifted in and out of sleep, it felt as if it was all happening to someone else, as if it was a weird, surreal dream.

She half heard the lift doors open and close, but she didn't sit up until the doors to the outside corridor were flung open. It was the Wrestler, pushing a boxed spin-drier on a trolley. He was wearing dark blue overalls with the name of a kitchen-fitting firm emblazoned on the back in fiery red letters. 'Rise and shine,' he said. He wheeled the box by her sofa and into the office. He was followed by the Runner, who was also wearing overalls and pushing another loaded trolley. Even through the ski mask he was wearing, Andy could see that he was leering at her.

Green-eyes came in last, carrying several assorted boxes. Like the men, she was wearing overalls and training shoes. There wasn't a gun in sight, but that didn't mean anything because it wasn't the threat of being shot that was keeping Andy in the office.

'In here,' Green-eyes said to Andy, and Andy followed her through to the main office area. The Wrestler was manoeuvring the spin-drier off its trolley next to the wall farthest from the windows. Green-eyes put the boxes she was carrying down on the floor and pointed at the spin-drier. 'Andrea, you start taking them out of their boxes while we bring the rest of the stuff up.'

Andy tried opening the box with her bare hands but the cardboard was too tough. The Wrestler gave her a small penknife, and she hacked away at the box with it while her three captors went back outside.

It took them more than an hour to carry in all the equipment, and another half an hour until all the boxes were opened. The Wrestler had several extension cords, and he plugged in the spin-driers, ovens, electric woks and coffee grinders and checked that they were all functioning.

The Runner brought in a filter coffee-maker and took it along to the suite of offices at one end of the open-plan area, and a few minutes later he returned with mugs of steaming coffee. Green-eyes showed Andy her clipboard. On it was a computer print-out listing all the chemicals and equipment she had purchased. 'Am I missing anything?' she asked.

Andy scanned the list and shook her head. 'I don't think so.'

'I don't think so isn't good enough, Andrea. Check it carefully. Am I missing anything?'

Andy ran her finger down the list. Everything seemed to be there. Except for one thing. 'Detonators,' she said. 'You haven't got detonators.'

'That's in hand,' said Green-eyes. 'For the next couple of days, your only concern is the explosive, okay?'

Andy handed back the clipboard. 'In that case, it's all here.'

Green-eyes put the clipboard down on top of one of the spin-driers. 'Come this way,' she said, and she led Andy to a suite of offices, each with a floor-to-ceiling glass panel next to the door so that the interiors were visible from the corridor. One of the offices had been used as a meeting room and contained a long cherry-wood table with a dozen high-backed leather chairs around it. In one corner of the room was a large-screen Sony television and a video recorder. 'Sit down, Andrea,' said Green-eyes.

Andy did as she was told. The blinds were drawn, but the slats were a white opaque material and enough light seeped in to make the overhead fluorescent lights unnecessary. The coffee machine had been put on a sideboard along with several cartons of long-life milk, a bag of sugar and a box of Jaffa Cakes.

Green-eyes unlocked her burgundy briefcase and took out a small cassette tape. She slotted it into a larger cassette and fed it into the video recorder. 'You wanted to know that Katie's safe,' she said.

Andy leaned forward with anticipation. Green-eyes pressed the 'play' button. There were a few seconds of static, then Katie was there, smiling at the camera.

'Mummy, Dad, this is Katie. Your daughter,' said Katie. She sounded far away, as if she were at the end of a long, long tunnel. There was a short pause as if she were gathering her thoughts, then she continued. 'I'm fine. But I've got flu. I think.' She put her hand up to her throat, and Andy copied the gesture. 'My head hurts and my throat's sore. The nice man is going to give me some medicine to make it better so I should be okay soon.'

Katie paused and looked past the lens. Andy had the feeling that someone was prompting her to continue.

'He said to say it's Saturday and that I'm okay. Mummy. I want to come home…' The recording ended abruptly and Andy knew it was because her daughter had burst into tears.

Green-eyes clicked the video recorder off. 'She's safe, Andrea, and she'll stay that way so long as you do as we ask.'

'She's sick. I have to go to her,' said Andy.

'Don't be ridiculous!' snapped Green-eyes. She ejected the cassette and put it back in the briefcase. 'She's got flu,' she said. 'Kids get flu. She'll be fine.'

'She needs me.'

'What she needs is for you to do what you have to do. Then you can get back to Dublin and be with her. We're taking good care of her, Andrea. I promise you.'

'I want to talk to her.'

'That's not possible. Not now. Maybe later on in the week. We'll see how you get on.' She stood up. 'First things first. I need you to show the lads what to do. Step by step.'

She took her mobile phone out of her overall pocket and put it in the briefcase, then took out her pistol and flicked the combination locks closed.

Andy followed Green-eyes into the corridor. Green-eyes put the briefcase in the office opposite the meeting room, then took Andy back into the open-plan office area. The Wrestler and the Runner had lined up the four ovens next to each other and were unpacking dozens of clear plastic Tupperware containers. The Wrestler was wearing his shoulder holster and gun again. 'Can we open the windows?' Andy asked. 'It's going to get hot in here.'

Green-eyes looked over at the Wrestler and he shook his head. 'They're sealed,' he said. 'Double-glazed and sealed.'

'Is there a thermostat? If there is, set it to the lowest level.'

The Wrestler pointed to a thermostat on one of the walls and the Runner went to turn it down. Andy looked around the huge office area. 'Right, we're going to need a line of desks here. Close to the ovens.'

The four of them carried half a dozen desks over and lined them up. Green-eyes, the Wrestler and the Runner waited expectantly as Andy gathered her thoughts. Then, like an officer mustering her troops, she explained what they had to do.

– «»-«»-«»Mick Canning dropped the carrier bags on to the back seat of the Ford Mondeo and drove away from the shopping centre. It had been a long time since he'd bought clothes for a child and he'd found the experience somewhat daunting. He knew Katie's size, but he had no idea what she liked. Jeans, skirts, dresses – Canning had been overwhelmed by the choice on offer. He'd settled on a pair of blue Wrangler jeans, three different shirts in assorted colours, and two pairs of white socks. He'd decided against buying her any shoes because she wasn't going to be leaving the house, and anyway he wasn't sure of her size, but he'd found a pair of Garfield slippers that he figured would make her smile.