Here Be Dragons: A Short Story by Sharon Bolton

Author:Sharon Bolton [Bolton, Sharon]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9781473540477
Publisher: Transworld
Published: 2016-03-30T16:00:00+00:00

7

‘I TAKE IT that was you on the river this morning, you irresponsible pillock?’

Joesbury joins Philips on the western balustrade of Westminster Bridge and leans against the painted steel rail. A breeze seems to steal up from beneath the ironwork, cooling his burning skin. The heatwave is going on for ever.

‘How you didn’t kill someone is beyond me. You’ve got the collective knickers of the Marine Unit, the Port of London Authority and the bloody security services in a frigging twist. And stop grinning, I know you bloody well enjoyed it.’

Joesbury looks round, but no one is close. ‘What can I say, Guv? I love my work.’

‘How the fuck did you get away? Disappeared into thin air, is what I was told. No trace of boat or occupants. The clever money says you went by helicopter.’

‘The clever money isn’t so far wrong. We took the boat into a private lock-up just upstream of the heliport and left it there. There was a car waiting. They dropped me off back at St Katherine’s dock and Rich has given me permission to kip on the boat for the next few nights.’

Philips stares down at the water as though he’s considering jumping in. ‘I tell you, mate, this op is hanging on a thread. Thank God I was able to deny knowing anything about your 007 antics. And will you stop grinning, you smug twat?’

‘Once-in-a-lifetime experience, Guv. And we learned a lot.’

‘We learned fuck all.’

Joesbury gives him a second. Sometimes the guv’nor just needed to vent.

‘Go on, bloody well talk to me.’

‘Definitely not the Barrier. Beenie was wrong about that. Terrorist attack on the Palace of Westminster. Launched from the river, probably using a high-speed RIB similar to the one I was driving last night.’

‘You’re sure? About it being Parliament, I mean?’

‘I was on the boat. I saw where their eyes were going. Big Ben – Bridge. Bridge – Big Ben. Like a frigging tennis match. It’s got to be the Houses of Parliament. It’s the only place that makes sense.’

‘What then? Boat bomb? Christ, that’d be a first.’

‘Unlikely. First up, I don’t care how many effing virgins are waiting for me in paradise, there’s no frigging way I’m turning suicide bomber and I think they know that. Second, they wouldn’t actually achieve much. Some damage to the river wall, maybe. They might even take out a couple of sun-worshipping MPs, depending on the time of day, but not enough mayhem to justify the trouble they’re going to. Plus, if it was a bomb, the stuff would be in evidence somewhere. Beenie’s been combing their operations for months now, I take every opportunity I can to look round. I really can’t see where they’d be storing large amounts of explosives. I think they actually want to get inside, via one or other of the terraces.’

Philips is staring across at the north bank now. ‘There’s no river-front access to the building. They can’t get in from the river.’

‘There’s a temporary jetty brought in to allow people to arrive by boat.

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