alcohol.’
‘I thought she was gonna get in trouble with Chloe,’ Dante explained. ‘Fortunately the pain from her wrist had sobered her up by the time Chloe got to the hospital.’
James found all this highly amusing. ‘Well, that’s something else I can wind her up about. Is Chloe in?’
‘Sitting on the patio reading the Sunday Times while I slaved my guts out in the sun,’ Dante explained bitterly. ‘I’m gonna dive in the shower.’
James wandered out into the back garden where Chloe lay on a sun lounger wearing big sunglasses. She had the Style magazine from the newspaper and James thought she looked sexy in shorts and a lime green bikini top. He’d already called her the night before and explained everything that happened at the Tea Party, minus his two hours bonking in the back of a caravan.
‘Get back OK?’ Chloe asked.
‘Pretty painless,’ James nodded. ‘And the hotel was nice so I got some kip.’
‘You had a call about an hour ago. Dirty Dave.’
James smiled casually. ‘He’s got a kind of hero-worship thing going with me since I saved his butt at the service station yesterday. I tell you, if I play him right I could get right in close with the Brigands.’
‘That’s why you’re here,’ Chloe smiled. She reached towards a bottle of suntan lotion that was just beyond her fingertips. ‘Pass that up, would you?’
‘Don’t strain yourself, girl,’ James said, as he kicked the bottle towards her. ‘Did you get a number?’
‘Written on a Post-it by the phone,’ Chloe nodded.
The lotion bottle made a farting noise as Chloe squeezed it. James grabbed the phone in the living-room and dialled Dirty Dave’s mobile.
‘Are you home OK?’ Dave asked.
‘Just arrived,’ James said. ‘I’m sorry I bailed, but it was getting messed up in there. My mum’s gonna kick my arse: my helmet’s busted, my Kawasaki needs a new indicator lamp and my tent, sleeping bag and everything got cremated.’
‘No one’s holding it against you,’ Dave said. ‘The Führer’s wife Marlene was on that coach. She says you’re a sodding hero the way you chain-whipped that Bitch Slapper.’
‘So where are you now?’
‘Hotel near Cambridge,’ Dave explained. ‘There’s about fifty refugees here. We pulled out not long after you and the coach. The Führer’s livid at Sealclubber. The Brigands’ reputation is in tatters.’
‘Never should have poured out of camp like that,’ James agreed. ‘Made us look proper muppets. How’s about your bike?’
‘I’m one of the lucky ones,’ Dave said. ‘The Führer lost his bike. Teeth’s had his new Speedster less than a month and it’s nothing but a charred frame. There’s gonna be a war over this. Inside the Brigands and out.’
James knew this was bad. When studying the background for the mission he’d read about wars between outlaw biker gangs in Canada, the USA, Holland, Australia and Scandinavia. They’d resulted in shoot-outs, bombings and dozens of dead bodies. Out of all the countries with large biker communities Britain was the only one that had never seen a major turf war, but the Tea Party incident looked set to change that.
‘You know I’m loyal,’ James said. ‘So did you call to check on me, or was there something else?’
‘I did have a proposition,’ Dave nodded. ‘It’s something that could earn you a good deal more than your crêpe flipping job, but it’s a matter for face to face conversation. I should be back in Salcombe by this evening. Could you meet me at Marina Heights sometime tomorrow?’
‘I’ve got school,’ James said. ‘But I can be there by about four.’
*
McEwen and Neil had spent the night in the BMW, taking turns to watch the shed, making sure that the weapons weren’t moved. When it got to one in the afternoon and they still hadn’t been relieved, Neil called his boss, Ross Johnson.
‘I do understand your position, sir,’ Neil said into his handset. ‘But we’ve been on duty twenty-seven hours straight. We need to be relieved. If someone comes in and grabs those weapons now, McEwen and I are in no proper state to follow them. We’re in the middle of nowhere. I’ve barely put a crumb past my lips since yesterday afternoon.’
Neil relayed his boss’ explanation to McEwen. ‘Ross says he’s had problems because there’s no overtime budget and he’s had to send six of his best people to start an investigation into the trouble at the Rebel Tea Party. Our relief has arrived, but they’ve just gone to check into their hotel.’
McEwen’s eyes shot open. To Neil’s alarm McEwen snatched the mobile