"You can go up to the house," the first security guy said.

"Thank you."

Josh got back in, waited for the barrier to sink into the ground, then drove to the ma.s.sive front door. A stern-faced woman opened it: Lexa, the driver. She waited until he was inside and the door was shut, then she grinned.

"You've stirred things up. Whatever the old man's up to, it's all your doing."

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Sure you don't. Anyway, I've got to go out for a drive and get some shopping."

"Good."

"Richard will be able to slip in while I'm waiting at the gate. They've arranged a little delay." Lexa paused, then: "He is all right, isn't he?"

"Sure he is. You'll see for yourself."

"Good. Nice work, soldier."

"Thank you, ma'am."

"The boss is waiting for you. You remember the way?"

"Sure."

He walked through to the same ma.s.sive office as last time. The house might be the same, but Philip Broomhall was transformed. His hair was greasy, and his jowls unshaven; but when he stood, his eyes were clear and his back was straight.

"I've got the b.a.s.t.a.r.ds on the run," he said. "They just don't know it yet."

"Ah." Josh found himself smiling. "That's always the best way."

"Africa's proving more of a problem, though. You don't have conclusive data yourself, I suppose?"

"I've deployed query agents in the Web," said Josh, "and combined with what you've got, we should build up a picture of how they work."

"But it's not the killer blow, is it?" Philip was fleshy and unused to physicality; his notion of killer blows was the manipulation of stock interests. "What we need is a picture of what Richard saw. Virapharm labs growing product inside children. b.l.o.o.d.y Billy Church and the Tyndalls looking on."

"So far we've got facts and figures. Pictures of Church and the Tyndalls at premises which we can show are virapharm facilities."

"It's not enough," said Philip. "They'll spindoctor us to oblivion. Bury the facts with fiction and false figures."

"Suzanne d.u.c.h.esne has taught me something profound."

Philip's eyes tightened. "What is that?"

"It's not what you say, it's how you say it." Josh grinned. "Not to mention, where and when."

"I so hope you're right. All right, let me show you what my people have ferreted out." Data blossomed on half a dozen wallscreens. "Here we have Tyndall Industries owning a hundred percent of this Nigerian facility, although you wouldn't know it from the stockholder list. It's all cutouts and proxies. You realise none of what they do breaks the local laws."

"It'll still cause outrage here. All we have to do is get the data in front of people."

"Well, that's the challenge, isn't it? Anyway, over here you can trace the interrelated"

A door clicked open, further down the hallway. Then the office door opened.

"F-father?"

"Richard!"

They stepped toward each other, then stopped, as though held back by a force field. Behind Richard, Lexa frowned. Philip seemed unable to move.

"Are you all right, son?"

"Yes, Father. I was... I was very lucky."

Then something broke as Philip stumbled forward first, Richard falling against his chest; and they were hugging each other, crying and not caring. Seeing Philip's tears, Josh finally decided he could like the man.

Lexa led Josh into the hall, and closed the office door behind them.

"Looks like you did good," said Lexa.

"I just found him," said Josh. "Suzanne fixed him."

"Ah, that'll be Dr d.u.c.h.esne. You and her, you're together? It's the way you say her name."

"Er, yeah."

"Figures. All the good ones are taken." She shrugged her muscled shoulders. "Never mind."

After a while, the office door opened. Philip came out, arm around Richard's shoulders.

"I'm going to do some work, otherwise I'd be letting Mr c.u.mberland down. And we can't have that, can we, Richard?"

"No."

"You three go on, and I'll join you shortly."

"OK. Father?"

"What is it?"

"My thing about blades..."

"That doesn't matter. You're safe, and you're home.""But Josh taught me eskrimaga. I mean, he started to."

Philip was puzzled.

"Combat skills," said Lexa. "So, you want to carry on learning, Richard?"

"Josh is staying here?"

"Wouldn't that be nice." Lexa raised an eyebrow. "The answer's no, but why don't you all come see my bedroom?"

"Without dinner first?" said Josh.

Richard said "Josh has a girlfriend."

"I figured." Lexa winked at him. "So, are you coming?"

"I'll tag along, if I'm welcome." Philip glanced back at his office. "It'll keep for a few minutes."

"Sure thing, boss."

She led the way to a ground-level room that overlooked the rear lawns. There was a bra.s.s label on the door reading Estate Manager.

"He got the sack." She grinned at Philip. "And I got a room upgrade. Come see."

A huge office had been transformed into a morethan-bedroom. The bed itself was small, tucked against one wall. What made Josh smile was a vertical plasticand-ceramic cylinder, man-high and waist-wide, from which several stiff rods poked out, representing limbs. In China they were made of wood, a mainstay of wing chun fight training.

On the bed were two rattan canes escrima sticks and a coiled skipping-rope. Under a chair stood a kettlebell.

Josh tapped Richard's shoulder with a half fist. "Looks like you have a new trainer."

Richard looked at his father. So did Josh and Lexa."You mean it's my choice?" Philip's voice was mild. "I'm happy if you do, and happy if you don't. All right?"

"Thanks, Dad."

Philip blinked. Perhaps it was the first time Richard had called him anything but Father.

Josh felt a soft punch on his shoulder.

"Like I said, soldier." Lexa leaned close. "You did good. Now go home to your girlfriend, before I show you my restraint holds."

"Yeah. Take it easy."

"You, too."

[ TWENTY-SEVEN ].

Josh stormed out of the Broomhall house, slamming the front door and muttering "f.u.c.kin' a.r.s.ehole..." clearly enough for spycams to pick up the image, if not the sound. Getting into his car, he yanked the driver's door shut, switched on the ignition while snapping his safety belt in, released the hand-brake simultaneously with flicking the car into drive, gunning it into a sharp, gravel-spraying turn, and accelerated for the gates.

There, the security guys remained blank-faced while the gates opened; save for one man, standing in a surveillance blind spot by the hedge, who dropped Josh an exaggerated wink. Then Josh drove out onto the road, moving too fast, acting enraged though his mind was cold. He was already working on mission prep.

Once on the motorway he drove more reasonably. Tapping his phone in its console slot, he queried vlogger sites.

"Command: select keywords America, political situation, Brand, coup, secession. Command: spelling disambiguation, coup equals C-O-U-P. Command: display top ten, most viewed."

He lowered the brightness on his heads-up as ten static panes showed low down on the windscreen. Then he tapped the console below the rightmost image.

A shaven-headed man in what looked like an expensive suit, shirt and tie began to speak.

"In Samuel, King David says: 'He traineth my hands for war, so that my arm may bend a bow of bronze.' The conflict war, so that my arm may bend a bow of bronze.' The conflict you have been training for is here. Too long have we put up you have been training for is here. Too long have we put up with Islamist jihadists, but at least they had the guts to declare with Islamist jihadists, but at least they had the guts to declare war, unlike the left-wing G.o.dless liberals who have weakened war, unlike the left-wing G.o.dless liberals who have weakened this country for so long. Now we move to cleanse the Earth in this country for so long. Now we move to cleanse the Earth in the final crusade, the triumph of" the final crusade, the triumph of"

Josh shut it off, changed lanes to slow down, then tapped below the next pane. Here the speaker was maybe twenty, his hair in braids, glancing off to one side every few seconds as he spoke.

"President Brand is threatening democracy, let's be clear on that. You don't agree, tough, because the police will kick your that. You don't agree, tough, because the police will kick your door down and drag you out as a threat to homeland security. door down and drag you out as a threat to homeland security. That means no trial, no lawyer, no limit to how long they" That means no trial, no lawyer, no limit to how long they"

He tapped that pane, also, to stillness. Then he wiped the display.

"h.e.l.l. To. Handbasket. In, a, going. Make a sentence out of that."

The phone chimed its do-not-understand tone.

"End voice commands."

After some twenty minutes driving in silence, he tapped again. Tony's image appeared, ghostly on the windscreen.

"Hey, Tone."

"Josh, my man. Are you OK?"

"Always. Are you still in contact with Taffy C?"

"Is he still alive?"

"That'll be a no, then.""Actually, I think he's in London. I'm surprised you want to see him, though."

"If you're talking about the time I interrupted him with three rent boys and a blindfolded donkey, I think he's forgiven me for that."

"And I thought Vikram was the potty-mouth round here."

"Call me back?"

"After I've washed that image from my mind."