Adam Palmer - The Boudicca Parchments

He didn’t make it.

Instead he was hit by a large, powerful motorbike that sent him flying. The bike came to a halt directly behind the rear exit that had been turned into a gaping hole by the second explosion. And on the motorbike was a figure covered from top to toe in black leathers, face hidden by a fibreglass visor.

The figure’s head was turned so that he must have been looking squarely at Daniel. But who was he? Whoever he was, he was Daniel’s saviour. But what was Daniel to do now?

The figure looked round, in the direction that the bearded man had gone flying and signalled Daniel — with a sweeping gesture of his arm — to get out of the van and onto the motorbike. But Daniel hesitated. The same reservations applied as before. Even if the biker had not carried out the attack, to flee under these circumstances would make him look guilty. The authorities would have no way of knowing that the van was attacked by some one and that he had been rescued by some one else.

The man on the bike looked around frantically again and then produced a handgun and squeezed off two shots in what seemed like two different directions. The next thing that Daniel heard was a car engine roaring and receding. Again the man on the bike signalled Daniel, this time with the hand wielding the gun, but did not at any time point it at Daniel.

In the driver’s section, Daniel could hear voices on the radio suggesting that the police dispatcher was aware that something was up. But it was the next thing to happen that surprised Daniel most. The man on the bike lifted his visor to reveal his face and at that point Daniel saw that the he was in fact a she . And it was a face that he recognized. She had been baptised Siobhan Stewart.

But Daniel knew her as Sarit Shalev .

At that point his hesitation gave way to relief. He ran to the back of the van, leapt out and onto the motorbike, holding on to Sarit without fear or concern. The bike roared to life and swept past the fallen bearded man just as he was beginning to recover. Daniel felt the rush of wind and adrenaline as the powerful motor carried him away from the scene of the carnage. And in the distance he heard the sound of an approaching police siren.

“How could you let this happen!”

“I don’t know who he was! One minute I was all set to kill him and a second later I was hit by the motorbike!”

This exchange between Baruch Tikva and his father was taking place over the phone. But their voices were so loud, they could have been standing eyeball to eyeball in the same room.

“But why were you standing in the middle of the road?”

“I wasn’t. I was standing directly behind the police van.”

“Then why did the motorbike hit you?”

“That’s what I’m telling you! It was deliberate !”

“What do you mean, deliberate?”

“After the bike hit me, he shot the two men who were helping me. They were professionals… men with guns who knew how to use them… and he just pulled a gun and shot both of them.”

“I thought you had three men with you?”

“Yes, but one was the driver.”

“And what did he do?”

“He ran away — the coward! He left me there. I nearly got caught. I had to run away… and I was limping. I thought he broke my leg.”

“You could have made up a story. Said you were a bystander and said the man on the motorbike was part of it.”

“But then I’d’ve been in the public eye. They’d ask me to tell them everything I saw. It’s better this way.”

“It’s not better, Baruch, it’s very bad!”

“I know… I know.”

Baruch Tivka was genuinely apologetic. He knew that he had let his father down and he felt guilty. He revered his father and would do anything for him.

“Do you have any idea where he has gone?”

“No. It came completely out of the blue. I don’t know how anyone could have known what I was planning.”

“Is it possible that the shiksa betrayed you?”

“ Chienmer Lefou. I don’t think so.”

“You know she hates all Jews?”

“Yes, but she made it clear that she was ready to work with us because we are against the Zionist heretics.”

“Then who could it be?”

Baruch Tikva tried to think.

“Maybe there’s a spy in the camp.”

“That’s impossible. I told no one but you.”

“Do you think they’re watching us?”

“Possibly. Or maybe Lady Lefou is being watched. She’s quite a controversial figure, you know. She attended the holocaust conference in Teheran.”

At the other end of the phone, there was silence. Finally the old man spoke.

“That would have brought her to the attention of the British authorities. They probably are watching her! You should have been more careful.”

“I’m sorry .”

“Well at least we are not being watched.”

“But what are we going to do?”

Baruch had always wanted to impress his father with his initiative — as he had when he found out about Daniel not being dead. But now he too had failed to kill him. And worse still, he had effectively helped Daniel escape from the police. Apart from that, he had got two of Chienmer Lefou’s men killed. And the driver would probably go running back to her with tales of Baruch Tikva’s carelessness. He would get the blame.

And worse still, the people she hired were probably not her own. They were gangsters . That meant they had their own friends and contacts who would be looking out for them.

What if they think I lured them into a trap?

He knew now that he would have to lie low for a while, not only from the police but also from Chienmer Lefou and her network of contacts. Fortunately, she didn’t know where he was staying. All she had was a mobile phone number. And he knew that he could blend in with other ultra-orthodox Jews in Golders Green or Stamford Hill. The only thing that marked him out was his height.

His father spoke again.

“Do you remember I asked you about Daniel’s family?”

“Yes. But like I told you, he’s divorced. And they didn’t have children.”

“No,but I was thinking about his extended family… parents, brothers sisters, etc.”

“I think he has three sisters. I know that one of them has three daughters, eight-year-old twins and a five year old.”

“They’re a small, ultra-orthodox Jewish sect called Shomrei Ha’ir .”

“I’ve heard of them. The most anti-Zionist Hassidic sect — ”

“ Everybody’s heard of them! And they’re not Hassidic. Ultra-orthodox, yes. But not Hassidic. Technically they’re a Lithuanian Jewish sect.”

Daniel was looking at Sarit with that same feeling of lust that he had developed for her back in Israel, after he had seen through Gaby and her true colours. Physically they were very different women. Gaby, a former competitive swimmer, was taller than Daniel, whereas Sarit was barely five feet five. Yet despite the height, she was as fit as Gaby had been and had proved quite effective when the two women had engaged in a catfight in the shallows of the Jordan River. Gaby packed quite a bit of muscle into her small frame and now that she had taken off her biker’s leathers and stripped down to a pair of shorts and a T-shirt, she looked pretty damn sexy.

“Push your eyeballs back in,” she told Daniel, firmly.

His tension broke into a smile as he realized that he had been ogling her.

They were in a safe house in Edgware, having got back to London via a series of A and B roads, to avoid the numerous CCTV cameras that now seemed to be everywhere.