said Tiffin. 'We have experience of their
methods. We are sure they have the explosives triggered to go off
by remote control.'
'They're
watching us?' Maxwell asked.
'Undoubtedly,' said Andersen. He checked his watch. 'Three
hours to the deadline. What are you thinking?'
'We
don't have the money,' said David Davenport. 'We sank all we had
into the factory. Quite a lot of the bank's money, too.'
'Hmm.
Not much in the way of options,' said Andersen.
Maxwell
asked, 'So. If they are around here somewhere, can't you get men
searching for them?'
Tiffin
said, 'We could. But as they are probably watching our every move,
if we go looking for them, kiss your factory goodbye.'
Sean
Davenport said, 'Years of building up the business, millions
invested, good orders coming in and three hundred top employees.
I'll be devastated if we lose it all now.'
Maxwell
asked, 'Is there any possibility it's a bluff?'
As if in
reply, an explosion shook the ground and everyone ducked for cover.
As the dust settled, they could see one large window had been blown
out. The damage was minimal.
Tiffin
said, 'That was just to let us know they're deadly
serious.'
Chapter 27
'A bit
tame, so far,' said Morris. 'Two Red's sent off.'
'Dirty
rotten cheats,' said Crowe.
'One
Blue sent off.'
'Blind
referee. Think Billy Knocker will have permanent brain
damage?'
'Who'd
notice?' said Morris. 'Probably just concussion. He should never
have head-butted that linesman. What's the score?'
'They
score these games?'
'I
always thought so.' The electronic scoreboard told him what he
wanted to know. 'Twenty one to nineteen. We might win this
one.'
'Here we
go. Second half.'
Two mud
and blood covered teams exchanged punches as they emerged from the
tunnel, and the ref let the captains go toe to toe for five minutes
before blowing his whistle. The crowd booed as they were enjoying
the fight more than the game. Somebody found the ball and after the
kick off, the Red's striker was wrestled to the ground by three
Blue's. A linesman got stuck in and pulled two Blue's off him. A
dazed Red scored but in the wrong goal. The medics ran on with a
stretcher and took the unconscious linesman off the
pitch.
Morris
and Crowe were all set to enjoy the second half when a worried
looking man approached them.
'Excuse
me. Detectives Crowe and Morris?'
Morris
groaned. 'Not for at least thirty five minutes.'
'I'm Rod
Marlow. Stadium manager. Mind if I have a word?'
'Mr
Marlow,' said Morris. 'We are enjoying the game on our day
off.'
'I
appreciate that, but I have just had a rather disturbing call.' The
rest he whispered into Morris's ear. Morris jabbed Crowe in the
ribs and indicated he was to follow him and Marlow. His response
was drowned out by the roar as a Blue took his team into the lead
by one point. Marlow took the detectives along a corridor under the
stands to his office.
'Tell me
it's a hoax.'
'Sorry,
Mr Marlow,' said Morris. 'I don't think so.'
Marlow
closed his eyes and shook his head. 'I was hoping it was somebody
just wanting to ruin the game. That would have been bad
enough.'
Crowe
said, 'What exactly was said?'
Marlow
explained, 'About twenty minutes ago. To my phone here. He said
explosives were in place all around the stadium. We have until the
end of the game to agree to pay thirty million or the lot goes
up.'
'Shit!'
said Crowe.
Morris
asked,'How did you find us?'
'The man
knew where you were sitting. He said you would tell me to take this
seriously.'
'I do,'
said Morris, then on his phone. 'Dale. Me and Vince are at the big
game. The gang has it loaded with explosives. Yes. the entire
stadium, they say. We have until the end of the game to agree to
pay thirty million. Shall we try an orderly evacuation? Dale?
Right. Sit tight. I'll be right here.'
'Well?'
said Crowe.
'D I
Andersen is already out with Tactical at the old Darlington
factory. That's full of explosives too, apparently. He's with
Tiffin. He's organising Hancock to surround