Page 35 of End Game

‘How many?’ said Miles.

‘At least thirty at this location,’ replied Collins, ‘possibly more.’

‘More than enough,’ was all Miles had to say, before he ended the conversation and turned his attention to Booth Watson. ‘It’s a shame I won’t be able to join Warwick in the Gold Suite to see the smile wiped off his face.’

Booth Watson shifted uncomfortably in his seat. ‘I wonder how many people you sold fake tickets to are now protesting to the police?’ he said.

Miles shrugged. ‘Who gives a damn? Warwick will start the evening unpopular with a small group of people who didn’t get to see the ceremony, and by the end of the evening he’ll be unpopular with all those who did.’

‘Regarding those tickets, the CPS have been in touch again,’ said Booth Watson. ‘Another witness has come forward and named you as the mastermind behind the operation. I’m going to have to prepare your defence carefully if you’re not to be locked up again.’

‘I’ve never met this witness, whoever they are,’ said Miles confidently, ‘so there isn’t going to be a trial.’

‘I can’t see the CPS backing down quite so easily this time,’ said Booth Watson.

‘They won’t have any choice,’ said Miles, ‘as I will have left the country long before Commander Warwick tries to arrest me. After all, once tonight is over, he’ll be far too busy explaining how he could possibly have allowed such a disaster to happen.’

‘But when you come back …’ began Booth Watson.

‘I won’t be coming back, BW. This is my last job. Once the Games are over, I’ll be retiring to my home in Southampton – and not the Southampton in England.’

‘But what about the Van Gogh?’

‘If I recall your agreement with Mikailov,’ said Faulkner, ‘the painting will be collected by you so your last job will be to deliver it to me in the States, and when you get back home, you’ll find a million waiting for you in a Swiss bank account.’

•••

Following a lavish reception at Buckingham Palace, all the ambassadors to the Court of St James, including Anatoly Mikailov and Wei Ming, were escorted to luxury coaches which would take them directly to the opening ceremony.

‘Let there be light,’ whispered Wei Ming, as the coach finally pulled up outside the Olympic Stadium.

‘But only until ten past nine,’ replied the Russian Ambassador.

‘I’m confident it will be your “finest hour”, to quote Churchill,’ responded the Chinese Ambassador, ‘and you will return to Moscow in triumph, before taking up your new appointment as your country’s Ambassador to Washington.’

‘But only if Operation Blackout is a total success,’ said Mikailov.

‘Look on the bright side,’ said Wei Ming.

‘Let’s hope not,’ replied Mikailov.

•••

‘Great seats, Peter,’ said Artemisia, as she and Robert took their places in the lower stand on the home straight. ‘Are you finally going to admit how you got hold of them, now that Dad’s not here?’

‘Ican reveal,’said her grandfather. ‘It was from a ticket tout he was prosecuting at Woolwich Crown Court.’

‘In exchange for waiving my fee,’ sighed Peter, ‘but at least I got him off.’

‘I’m not altogether sure about the ethics of that transaction,’ said Julian.

‘Even my Member of Parliament couldn’t get a ticket,’ said Robert.

Julian gave in. ‘So why don’t we sit back and soak in the atmosphere, because the curtain won’t be going up for some time, and I doubt if you’ll see another Olympic Games in London in your lifetime.’

‘Speak for yourself, Grandpops,’ said Peter.

Sir Julian was about to tick him off when he remembered they were no longer in chambers.