Free Zero Hour by Andy McNab Page B

but it could be the beginning of the end of totalitarianism. It’s fascinating, don’t you think - what started as social networks becoming the tools of political change? I might do a piece on it—’
    I cut in. ‘Chuck a right.’
    She didn’t ask. She just did.
    We turned onto a single-carriageway street lined with shops and apartment blocks. A group of cyclists, all women in black, wobbled over the cobbles in front of us. Anna had to slow down. She glanced in the rear-view. ‘The BMW?’
    I didn’t turn round. I smiled and moved my hands as if telling her a funny story. ‘He still with us? He’s been back there a bit too long.’
    She turned her head and smiled back. ‘The registration is C VS 911. That’s a Chisinau plate. Four men. Very short hair. Not smiling, not talking.’
    I nodded as we eased past the women, still jabbering away with no awareness of the vehicles trying to get past in both directions. Anna changed up and we accelerated.
    ‘Take the next right.’
    The indicator clicked away. The Polo lurched across a pothole as we hit a small side road. I sat back and waited for Anna.
    ‘They’ve come with us.’
    ‘Any of them talking on a phone or radio?’
    ‘No.’
    ‘Good. They’re not setting an ambush. As long as we keep moving we’re OK for now. Every time we turn, see if they communicate.’
    ‘Who do you think they are? Secret police? Uni security?’
    ‘Did you get as far as mentioning Lilian’s name in the office?’
    ‘No. The woman was on the phone, face like thunder. She was probably getting the good news from the guy in the sweater.’
    ‘Could it be the university warning us off, or trying to find out who we are? Might be police, I guess - maybe somebody saw me checking out Lilian’s picture. They may be doing the same. Whatever, we need to bin them as fast as we can.’
    ‘How am I going to do that? Are we going to drive around in circles until we run out of fuel?’
    ‘Head back towards the hotel. Remember the supermarket across the road? Drive into the car park.’
    We overtook an old guy with ladders roped to his bike as she worked her way back onto the main.
    ‘They’re with us.’
    ‘Normal speed. Nothing we can do about them. We’ve got to concentrate on that lard-arse in the photo. We need to find out who he is. Maybe she’s done a runner with him. It could be something as simple as that. Falling in love and all that sort of shit.’
    ‘How are you going to go back and check that out, Nicholas?’ She sounded annoyed. ‘You going to disguise yourself as a normal human being or something?’
    ‘Give Lena a call and tell her we’re on our way.’
    I pulled out her iPhone and dialled the number. She was waffling away in Russian as we approached the multi-storey.
    ‘We want one on the ground floor if we can. In between a couple of parked cars.’
    She drove under the height bar and into the gloom.
    ‘There, to the right - straight in.’
    Anna swung the wheel. The Beamer followed us in and rolled to a halt. They only had two options: back out, park up and come back on foot, or come past us looking for a space. They couldn’t park close by because we’d have eyes-on. With luck, they’d have to carry on up to the next floor.
    Anna slipped in between two minging old Skoda-type estate cars. The Beamer’s tyres screeched on the painted concrete as it carried on up the ramp.
    She turned off the engine and started to get out. I gripped her arm. ‘Bring everything. This car’s history. We’re not coming back.’
    We made for the pedestrian exit. There was no point checking behind. It was all about making distance and getting as many angles between us as we could.
    We’d soon find out if they were following. I hoped not. There were a lot more of them than there were of us. And they were big fuckers.

9
    17.05 hrs
    Irina sat behind the desk. Lena collated documents and pictures for her visit to the mother of the girl in Barcelona. She was still trying to trace