Free The Nationalist by Campbell Hart Page A

swore.”
    “But nothing happened.”
    “I didn’t know that, I thought I was going to fucking die,” He had raised his voice which was tight with rage. “The counter just went down to zero. Then the alarm went off. But nothing happened.”
    “You were lucky, Mr Hamilton.”
    Jim Hamilton looked off past the perspex ticket office wall and shook his head, “Yeah. Lucky is my middle name.”
    Arbogast laughed, “Get yourself some trousers Mr Hamilton, it’s cold out there.”
     
    “So it was a hoax?” Ian Davidson had been conspicuous by his absence, but news of the rail incident had brought him out of hiding.      
    “Looks that way; I’d have liked to have kept this quiet but it’s all over Twitter. People have posted video footage of Hamilton holding the bag. There was quite a panic. The train emptied. Some of the films are actually quite detailed.”
    “It’s not what we need though.”
    “No, it’s not, but that’s where we are. The footage is being pieced together and played back-to-back on the news channel. Tensions are high. We’ll need to beef-up the numbers again; get more guys on the street.”
    Davidson agreed, “Look we’re having a briefing at 18:00. The chief will have a plan.”
    “Where is Norrie anyway?”
    “He’s yesterday’s news, mate, you know that.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “You know.”
    “Obviously I have missed something. Norrie will always be the top cop to me.”
    “You can’t put your arms around a memory. The new guys are already making plans, so you’ll need to watch yourself. Your old guardian angel has spread his wings and left you to fend for yourself. Do you think Donald will have your back? Do you think he needs that kind of baggage?” Ian Davidson was wagging his finger in Arbogast’s face, “You’re on the way out, Arbogast, which should leave a prime spot for me. I’ve worked with Donald before. I reckon he owes me a favour or two. Catch you around.”
    Arbogast could feel his jaws clench as Davidson left. What annoyed him most was that he knew his colleague was probably right.
     
    ***
    Ian Wark watched the TV news from the comfort of the Solid Rock Cafe. He could hear the sirens outside, saw people creep down the street to try and get a look at the operation. The bottom half of Argyle Street was now a no-go area. Added to the cordon at George Square and in the Merchant City, a large part of the city centre was now off limits. The attacks were the only thing people seemed to be speaking about. At a time when people felt secure in their homes the events of the last two days would have a profound impact. Ian knew the plan had already worked and the next stage in the operation needed to get underway soon. Support for their cause could only grow as the security operation ramped up a gear. The barman had stopped working and was watching the news on the plasma screen.
    “What’s going on in this city?”
    Ian lifted his pint to his mouth and spoke before sipping, “It’s a bad state of affairs, that’s for sure.”
    “Who do you think is behind it?”      
    “They don’t know yet, do they?”
    “There was a guy in earlier who thought it was Islamists. You get that you know; white extremists. The square bombing was some old guy though – a war veteran! Why would he turn against his own?”
    Ian Wark shook his head and carried on drinking, “I’m sure he must have had his reasons. Perhaps we’ll never know.”
     
     

15
     
     
    Arbogast phoned Sandy Stirrit when it became clear that there was no way back for Norrie Smith, who had been cast aside. To say Sandy was surprised by the news would have been an understatement.
    “No way; why now?”
    “As far as I can see it’s purely political. The First Minister’s been looking to get Donald in from the get-go. He’s a political animal and he knows how to play the game. From what Rosalind’s told me he’s good at playing up his strengths, while playing down the stats. From