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stood in front of the mirror, gazing at himself, appalled at what he saw – an old, grey-faced man looking back at him with fear in his eyes. Where had the street brawler gone; the man who was never frightened of anything? Hart could feel himself teetering on the edge, and had never been closer to walking away from it all as he was at that precise moment. He could move away, far away. But would his fears remain behind? He went through to the galley and made himself some hot chocolate, and sitting at the centre island with all the lights on, started to mull over two things that had taken place that day to unnerve him.
    One had been by his own doing, and yet he knew that he would do it again until fully satisfied; the other had come out of the blue. He was the focus of suspicion and being investigated. He didn’t know by whom or the reason why, but it would have to be stopped.
    He finished his hot drink and was starting to feel a lot better. All he had to do was think positively as he always had done, tackle the problem head-on and then remove it permanently.

CHAPTER THREE

    Dillon took a taxi from his apartment to Docklands and the head quarters of Ferran & Cardini International. His stalwart boss, Edward Levenson-Jones, had summoned his presence, so as to bring him up to speed with the conversation he’d had with Dunstan Havelock over dinner.
    “The job sounds straightforward enough, but what’s the catch? You know as well as I do, old son, there’s always a catch with Dunstan Havelock.”
    “True, but I think he’s being straight on this one. And I gave him a pretty hard time, especially after he’d mentioned Digby’s name.”
    “Um, well that may be the case. But remember the golden rule, old son.”
    “What golden rule?”
    “My golden rule. The one that clearly states there are no true friends in politics and that civil servants, like the Government cabinet ministers whose backsides they wipe, are merely sharks circling for traces of blood to appear in the water.”
    “Oh, that golden rule.”
    “Being facetious is not helpful, Jake. If you cast your mind back, you’ll remember that the last time this firm got involved with Havelock it almost cost the lives of two very experienced field agents. I do not want a repeat of that fiasco this time. You make sure you write your reports in triplicate and, most importantly, watch your back. By the way, I’m assigning Vince Sharp as your technical support officer. Make sure you keep him informed at all times.”
    “Absolutely.”
    LJ opened the buff-coloured file in front of him and started to shift paper from one side of his desk to the other. As Dillon was about to leave, he glanced up from over the top of his round wire-framed spectacles.
    “Just one more thing before you go. There’s the little matter of firearms.”
    “Firearms?”
    “Don’t be obtuse; you know very well what I mean. You have a nasty habit of starting small wars wherever you go, Jake. As you so openly demonstrated whilst in Jersey.”
    “That’s a bit unfair. After all, I was up against a narcissist fascist who employed paramilitary mercenaries as ship’s crew. Who, if I recall, attempted to murder me and came very close to it on at least two occasions.”
    “That may have been the case, but I do not want you roaming around the Dorset countryside with an automatic pistol strapped under your arm. Do I make myself clear?”
    “Crystal.”
    “Good. Now, I know that you’re not planning to stay down in Dorset tonight. But on your way out, see my secretary – she’ll have a file for you with the operational assignment protocols as well as the details of the apartment located in Lilliput that is at your disposal should the need arise. Also, if this thing goes on for any length of time, go to Salterns Marina and make contact with Frank Gardner. You’ll more than likely find him propping up the bar of the hotel there.”
    “Who is he?”
    “Frank Gardner. He was one of the best