The Trojan boy

FOURTEEN

They were back into country lanes and the resultant drop in speed caused an almost unbearable increase in tension in the car. 'The royals must be there by now,’ said Kathleen anxiously.

'Just keep going,’ said Avedissian.

'Which way?' demanded Kathleen as they came to a road junction.

'Right,’ replied Avedissian.

'How much further?'

'Not much. Take the next turning on the left. Crookham should be at the foot of…'

The direction became irrelevant as Kathleen turned left and came upon a police vehicle parked broadside in the road. A white-sleeved officer waved them to a standstill while two colleagues, both armed, looked on.

'This road is closed, madam,’ said one of the policemen, leaning on the roof of the car to speak to Kathleen through the open driver's window. Although it was Kathleen he was addressing, his eyes took in Avedissian and O'Neill at the same time. 'Where were you making for?'

'Crookham,’ said Avedissian. 'We have to contact security! It's a matter of life and death!'

The policeman looked uneasy and signalled to his colleagues to join him. 'I think you'd all better get out of the car,’ he said, taking one step back.

Avedissian got out first, saying, 'Contact Mr Bryant, it's urgent!'

'There's not a moment to lose!' pleaded Kathleen.

'You're Irish,’ said one of the armed policemen, hearing Kathleen's accent and taking out his revolver. 'Stand away from the car!'

'For God's sake!' exclaimed Avedissian. 'There's going to be a hit on the royals. Get Bryant! Warn him!'

The three policemen looked uneasily at each other. 'Who are you?' one demanded.

There's no time for all that! Call Bryant on your radio! Tell him that Avedissian says that Kell is already inside!'

Avedissian's persistence paid off. One of the policemen clutched his handset nervously and said, 'Urgent message for Mr Bryant!'

A Land-Rover screamed up the road in low gear and stopped at the barrier. Bryant jumped out of the passenger seat with his radio in his left hand and the jacket of his suit flapping open to reveal a shoulder holster. The policemen stiffened as he ran towards them but he ignored them and came straight up to Avedissian. 'Well, Doctor? What's this about Kell?'

Circumstances prevented Avedissian from lingering on the thought that this was the moment that he had imagined many times over since Harry's death, the moment when he would confront Bryant face to face. He said, 'Kell and two others are already inside. The IRA took over a handicapped children's home in Norfolk and travelled with the official party.'

Bryant paled visibly. He said, There are over six hundred and fifty people inside. They are all over the place…’

Avedissian said, The O'Neills know Kell's men. They can help.’

'Come with me!' ordered Bryant as he turned on his heel and hurried back to the Land-Rover.

The vehicle swept into the grounds of Crookham with Avedissian and the O'Neills aboard as the strains of the National Anthem drifted over the coloured marquees announcing the arrival of the Royal Party. 'What school was it?' demanded Bryant.

‘Trelford House… in Valham.'

They drew up outside a long caravan and Bryant jumped out to run inside. He returned with a sheaf of papers and got on board again. 'Trelford were listed to park in sector "F"' he said to the driver. 'Take it easy, we don't want to scare them.'

'They were in the school minibus,’ said Avedissian over the driver's shoulder as he drove towards sector ‘F’ at a steady pace.

'Then it may have the school markings on it,’ said Bryant.

Bryant held his handset to his mouth and started issuing orders to unseen men, suffixing every instruction with the warning to act naturally.

'I've seen it,’ said the driver calmly, keeping his eyes straight ahead.

'Where?' asked Bryant.

'Up to the right with its rear doors towards us. It's white with the school name on the side.'

'Well done,’ said Bryant softly. 'Drive past and nobody look directly at it!' Bryant spoke into his radio again.

They drove casually past and Bryant said, 'Pull up behind the trees.’ The driver made a right turn and parked so that a clump of trees stood between the Land-Rover and the minibus. There were people in the bus,’ said Bryant. 'Everyone else is down by the house for the walkabout… If Kell is still in the bus it could be a mortar attack

… All they would have to do is fling open the rear doors and start firing… We're going to have to take it out.'

'But the children inside the bus… ' said Kathleen.

'We've no alternative,’ said Bryant.

'You could get the royals out of here!' said O'Neill.

'It's too late. Kell would start firing as soon as he suspected something was wrong.'

The others conceded the point.

Bryant used his radio to ask if people were in position. Two voices confirmed that they were.

'Murray, can you see anything?' Bryant asked.

A burst of static was followed by a voice saying, 'I can only see one man in the van with the children… and it looks like… one, maybe two women.'

The other two may be down on the floor,’ said Bryant. 'Jackson! If these van doors should open let them have it!'

'Understood,’ said the voice from the handset.

'We've got it covered,’ said Bryant quietly to the others in the Land-Rover. He checked the ground between the minibus and the edge of the garden where the children were waiting for the royal walkabout and saw that it was clear. There was a fifty-metre grassy slope leading down from where the vehicles were parked to the lawn of the house. Avedissian did the same but felt distinctly uneasy. 'Something is wrong,’ he said.

The O'Neills looked at him and Bryant said, 'What do you mean?'

‘This isn't it. This isn't what Kell meant.’

'What are you talking about?' demanded Bryant.

'Kell had something other than a mortar attack in mind, I'm sure of it. He was too cocky, too sure of success, and he was… more involved.’

'You're not making sense,’ said Bryant.

'I think I know what you mean,’ said O'Neill. 'All that business with Nelligan, saying that it was going to be like old times again, as if Kell was actually going to be doing something, not just coming along for the ride.’

'What could he possibly do?' asked Bryant.

'I don't know,’ confessed Avedissian. 'Ask your man if he can see the other two in the minibus yet.’

Bryant called Murray and got a negative reply. Avedissian looked down at the crowd on the lawn with growing apprehension. Rows of handicapped children waited with their nurses, attendants and teachers to meet the royal group as it made its way slowly along the line in the sunshine of the late afternoon. A party of blind children carrying Union Jack flags was at the head of the queue.

Avedissian looked down the line to the more severely physically handicapped in their wheelchairs and invalid carriages, some growing restless with the wait and being reassured by their nurses. He suddenly saw the nightmare that was about to come true. 'Kell's not in the minibus!' he hissed. 'He's down there in the line… in his pram!'

There was pandemonium for a moment in the Land-Rover as everyone realised that Avedissian had to be right.

'Hold it!' shouted Bryant. There was sudden silence. 'If that's so we've got to get him out of the line. It's our only chance. Any attempt to divert the royals and he will open fire.'

'We've got to find him first!' said Avedissian getting out of the vehicle and looking down at the throngs of people. 'We have to get down there.'

'Wait!' said Bryant. He turned to the driver and said, ‘The glasses. Quick!'

The driver handed Bryant a leather case and Bryant said to Avedissian, 'Use these! If Kell is in his pram he must have an attendant. See if you recognise anyone!'

Avedissian handed the glasses straight over to O'Neill who put them to his eyes and started scanning the line-up on the lawn. As the seconds passed anxiety grew to an almost unbearable level.

'C'mon… c'mon,' whispered Bryant. 'There!' said O'Neill. 'I can only see his back, but it's Nelligan. He's wearing a white coat and standing behind what could be Kell's pram… I can't see for sure, there's someone in the way. He's beside that bunch of older kids in invalid carriages at the far end.'

Bryant snatched back the glasses and pointed them in the direction O'Neill had indicated. ‘The big man?' he asked.

‘That's him.'

'He's near the very end. If Kell intends waiting until the royals are right beside him we have a few minutes left.'

'He may not,' said Kathleen.

'Knowing Kell, I think he will,' said O'Neill. 'It would appeal to his sense of the dramatic.'

'How do we get him out of there?'

Bryant was sweating visibly. 'We'll have to go in there and pull him out,' he said.

'But the moment you approach him… I mean he must have an automatic weapon in his hands under the covers,' said Avedissian.

'If we can take the big man out we can get to Kell from behind. All we have to do is turn him away, destroy his field of fire.'

'I can get to him,' said Kathleen. The others looked at her. 'Get me a nurse's uniform, quick!'

Bryant radioed for a uniform and got a question in reply. 'You stop the first one you see and bring her here!' he snapped. 'And get Miller up here!' While they waited he radioed to the other units and withdrew most of them from covering the minibus to redeploy them in the area behind where Nelligan and Kell were situated. 'Keep down and do nothing!' he added.

Another Land-Rover drew up beside them and a puzzled nurse was abruptly persuaded to part with her uniform. Kathleen hurriedly donned the cape and adjusted the cap. 'How do I look?' she asked. 'You'll do,' replied Avedissian. 'Who is going to deal with Nelligan?'

'Miller is,' said Bryant, indicating the man who had arrived in the other Land-Rover with the nurse. 'Go to it!' He put his radio to his mouth again and asked for someone called Dell. The fireworks set up for the staff and television crew party later… if you hear anything that sounds like a shot, set them off… That's what I said, set them off.'

Bryant told the driver to circle slowly round behind the disabled children at the far end of the lawn and stop about thirty metres behind the line. Kathleen and Miller were almost up to the edge of the crowd. Kathleen saw Miller put away his radio and bring out an evil-looking knife which he immediately slipped up his sleeve out of sight. He saw Kathleen looking at it but did not say anything. 'All you have to do,' he whispered, ' is turn Kell's pram round a little without him suspecting anything. Turn him away from the royals!'

'You deal with Nelligan and I'll turn Kell,' said Kathleen.

Kathleen left Miller and moved to the right through the crowd so that she was some ten metres to the right of where Kell was positioned and slightly behind his field of view. She could not see him at all, for the hood on his pram had been raised to prevent any close scrutiny from those around him. Nelligan had positioned him beside the carriages of two severely handicapped albino teenagers who were being similarly protected, but in their case from the sunlight.

As she saw Miller move up through the crowd behind Nelligan, Kathleen said in a loud voice, as if she had some official role to play, 'Can everyone see? It won't be long now. Perhaps if we move these chairs just a little to the right…' She moved the carriage nearest to her and found the child's nurse helping her automatically. The desire to comply with the wishes of apparent officialdom spread up the line and Kathleen saw Miller take his chance. Nelligan keeled over backwards without a sound but people in his vicinity began to fuss about the man who had "fainted".

Kathleen saw immediately that Kell must know something was wrong and rushed towards his pram. She reached it in time to see the muzzle of an automatic weapon appear from inside it. 'No you don't!' she cried as she flung herself at the pram and pivoted it round on its back wheels. A burst of fire tore harmlessly into the air as Kell pulled the trigger. People screamed and scattered in all directions.

Kathleen, who had fallen to her knees with the effort of turning the pram, fought to regain control of it as another burst of fire from Kell cut down Miller who rushed up to help her. As she realised that Kell was struggling to turn the gun on her she pushed the pram away from her as hard as she could, but it only got as far as Nelligan's prostrate body. The force that she had imparted to it, however, was sufficient to tip it forwards when it hit Nelligan's feet so that Kell's legless torso was thrown out on to the ground. He fell, still holding his weapon, and rolled over to fire at Bryant's men who were approaching across the open ground.

After only one burst Kathleen saw that Kell, determined to achieve the aim of the operation at all costs, was trying to roll over again and open fire at his original targets. She could see the Royal Party being hurriedly escorted away across the wide lawn but they were still within range. She was nearest to Kell but was helpless to stop him.

Among the others, it was Martin O'Neill who realised Kell's intention first and rushed up in the open to throw his body at Kell in an attempt to smother his fire. Kell turned the gun as he heard O'Neill approach and fired as O'Neill launched himself. O'Neill was cut to pieces but his dead body fell over Kell and trapped the gun momentarily. Kathleen, who was still nearest, rushed towards Kell and joined the tangle of bodies in an attempt to wrestle the gun away while Avedissian and Bryant and his men sprinted over the final few metres.

Bryant shouted to his men, 'They are all IRA! Destroy them!'

'No!' cried Avedissian in utter horror. 'Wait!' But the bullets tore into the three on the ground and then the shooting stopped.

Avedissian was stunned with grief and anger. He knelt down beside the broken bodies and cradled Kathleen's head in his arms. There was a flicker of life left in her eyes. 'Oh my love,’ he whispered, unable to stop tears welling up in his eyes as he put his cheek against hers.

Kathleen tried to speak. 'Thank you,’ she said. 'For a moment… you almost made me believe… it was possible.' Her head fell back and she was dead.

Avedissian was beside himself with rage. He got up and threw himself at Bryant, intent on killing him with his bare hands, nothing else mattered. He got within a few feet of him but Bryant side-stepped smartly and hit him on the side of the head as he charged past. Avedissian fell to the ground, dazed from the blow but the strength of his anger keeping him conscious. He rolled over and looked at Bryant saying, 'Go on, kill me too. That's your style isn't it? No loose ends?'

Bryant was not looking at Avedissian. He was looking at the shambles the party had become, panic-stricken people, running policemen, screaming sirens and, overhead, the ridiculous whine of fireworks that he had hoped might mask a single shot but which now were only adding to the confusion. The royals were safe but it was a mess that his career would never recover from. He looked down at Avedissian and rasped, 'The O'Neills were terrorists, Irish terrorists, the scum of the earth. Go home, Doctor. This isn't your world. It never was.'

Avedissian watched as Bryant walked over to the bodies to take a last look at Kell and the O'Neills. As he pulled Kell's body free of the others and stood over it Avedissian caught a slight movement out of the corner of his eye. Nelligan was not dead! Miller had knifed him from behind, and it had been assumed that he was dead, but his hand was moving and he had his gun in it. Avedissian opened his mouth to cry out a warning but the words froze on his lips.

The bullet ripped into Bryant's chest, and, with a last startled look at the world, he crumpled slowly to lie on top of Kell.

Nelligan's body jerked on the ground as Bryant's men riddled it with bullets and the killing was finally over.

Avedissian was left sitting alone on the ground. When his head cleared he got to his feet and walked over to where Bryant and Kell lay together in death. He looked at them long and hard and then said quietly, 'If any people ever deserved each other… you two did.'

Avedissian collected Sarah Milek's car and stopped at a telephone box. He called Directory Enquiries and made his request. The operator gave him the number.

'Children in Need,’ said the voice.

'I'd like to make a donation.’

'Thank you, sir. Small donations can be…'

'A large one.’

'In that case, sir, perhaps I can send you the relevant information?'

Avedissian said not and asked for the charity's bank account details.

'Might I ask how much, sir, if it's not too impertinent?'

'Twenty-five million dollars,’ said Avedissian.