'Didn't your boyfriend give you a nudge?' asked c.o.ker, as he headed for the door.

'He pulled an all-nighter,' said Castle, opening her locker. She winked at Shepherd. 'How's it going, Terry?'

Shepherd liked the way she used his name rather than his nickname, even though Terry was as contrived as Three-amp. Both were artificial, designed to conceal his true ident.i.ty. Shepherd didn't mind deceiving criminals but he hated lying to cops. Especially pretty blonde ones with flashing green eyes. 'All good, Carolyn,' he said.

She put out a hand and he thought for a moment that she was going to brush his cheek, but at the last second she reached behind his back. She winked as she pulled a yellow Post-it off the back of his shirt. Written in black felt-tip capital letters was 'KICK ME, I'M AN IDIOT'.

Shepherd remembered the slap on the back from Kelly. He took the note from her. 'KFC's little joke,' he said.

'Little things amuse little minds,' said Castle.

Shepherd went through to the briefing room. Kelly and c.o.ker grinned at him from their seats at the back. Shepherd screwed the Post-it into a ball, flicked it at Kelly and mouthed, 'b.a.s.t.a.r.d,' at him.

Kelly was about to retort but he closed his mouth when Inspector Smith appeared at the doorway in full riot gear, his helmet in his right hand. He was followed by a middle-aged man in a crumpled grey suit. 'Heads up, everyone,' said Smith. 'For those of you who haven't met him already, this is Christopher Moore of the borough's intelligence unit. He'll brief you on the location and the targets, then I'll fill you in on the method of entry. Listen up because I want everyone on the road by six thirty.' The clock on the wall said ten past.

Smith leaned against the wall as Moore went up to the lectern and tapped on the laptop there. A face flashed up onto the projection screen, a black man with an arrogant stare, his nose flared in contempt. 'Jerome Alleyne, a Yardie and a nasty piece of work,' said Moore. 'He's shacked up in a terraced house in Harlesden.' He tapped on the computer and the screen was filled with a surveillance photograph of Alleyne opening the front door of a shabby two-storey terraced house. 'Alleyne was for several years a major player in the crack-cocaine market, but recently he's moved into the manufacture of methamphetamine, a.k.a. crank, ice, speed, wire, zip.' He tapped the keyboard again and another surveillance picture filled the screen, this one of a pretty black girl laden with Primark carrier bags, two toddlers behind her, opening the front door of the house. 'Alleyne has been living with this girl, Shayla Coltraine, for the past two years. The kids aren't his she had them by two other men. The intel we have is that he's built a lab in the attic.'

He tapped on the keyboard and a close-up of the roof showed a fully open window set among the tiles.

'For anyone who hasn't come across a methamphetamine lab before, I can tell you that they're dangerous places. Lots of flammable liquids and explosive components. The fumes alone can kill you.'

Kelly raised his hand. Moore sighed. 'Yes?'

'I've never got the difference between flammable and inflammable,' said Kelly. 'Which one means they burn?'

'They both do,' said Moore.

'How can that be?' asked Kelly. 'Visible doesn't mean the same as invisible, does it?'

'Pipe down, KFC,' said Smith.

Kelly shrugged apologetically.

'The crucial thing is to secure the lab,' said Moore. 'It's possible that Alleyne has rigged it so that he can torch the place if he's raided.'

'You have definite intel on that?' asked Fogg.

'No, but it's not unknown so we have to a.s.sume it's a possibility,' he said. 'We need the lab secured so that the guys in the CBRN suits can go in.' He pressed the mouse and two diagrams flashed onto the screen, a schematic of the ground floor on the left and the first floor on the right. The front door led into a hallway. To the left were the stairs, to the right a sitting room and behind it a kitchen. On the first floor there was a landing, a large bedroom, a small bedroom and a bathroom. A red cross was marked in the middle of the landing. 'We haven't managed to gain access to the house but there is one for sale further down the terrace and we a.s.sume that the floor plan is the same,' said Moore. He clicked the mouse and a photograph of the first-floor landing filled the screen. 'Alleyne will almost certainly be in the main bedroom on the right, and the kids are in the smaller room on the left. In the ceiling between the two rooms is the hatch that leads to the attic, shown here by the red cross. There should be a fold-down ladder leading up to it. We don't know if the ladder will be up or down but with the kids around we a.s.sume it will be up and the hatch locked.'

Moore clicked the mouse again and Alleyne's PNC details filled the screen. 'Alleyne has convictions for violence and drug-dealing, but there's no intel to suggest that there are guns in the house. He's known as a night owl, generally sleeps until midday.'

'And he's definitely in the house now?' asked the inspector.

'We have it under observation as we speak. He's in there.'

Moore moved away from the podium and the inspector took his place. 'Right, you heard the man,' said Smith. 'No guns, so we go in fast and hard, lots of noise, lots of aggression. I want the house totally dominated.' He smiled. 'But go easy on the kids. It's a densely populated neighbourhood so there'll be lots of eyes on us.'

He tapped on the keyboard and a map of the area around the house flashed onto the screen. The target was marked with a red circle, and two streets away there was a black cross with the letters FRP. 'We meet at the forward rendezvous point,' said the inspector. 'Foggy's group does the main entry, and Gary's will be at the back in case Alleyne legs it. There's an alley that runs behind the houses.' Smith looked at the intelligence officer. 'The gate to the alley is open, right?' he asked.

Moore nodded. 'Never locked,' he said.

'Gary, I need two of yours in full CBRN gear ready to go in as soon as we have the house secure,' Smith continued. 'If all goes to plan, Alleyne will go out the front with the woman and her kids. He will be brought here for questioning. Social Services will look after the woman and the kids until the house is clear, which could be a day or two. Once Alleyne's out we'll do a full search for drugs, money, ID, the works. We'll have a few CSOs on the site handing out leaflets explaining what's going on to keep the locals happy.' He looked up at the clock on the wall. 'Right, we've got time for a quick brew and then we're out of here.'

Shepherd pulled protective pads over his knees and then fastened more over his thighs. Then he put on shoulder and elbow pads before pulling on the black flameproof overalls and zipping them up. Two CSOs walked up in fluorescent jackets, a man and an overweight West Indian woman. Shepherd realised that the man was Ross Mayhew. He was holding a handful of leaflets. 'What's the story?' asked Shepherd.

The leaflets had the Met's crest at the top with a phone number and several paragraphs in large type. 'It explains what we're doing,' said Mayhew. 'Once you guys go in, we start handing them out to anyone in the vicinity and shoving them through letterboxes. Hearts and minds, that's the theory. If we tell everyone what's going on and why, they're less likely to kick off.' He nodded at his partner. 'This is Daisy. She's my wingman today.'

Daisy giggled girlishly and shook Shepherd's hand. Her hand was larger than his. 'Terry,' said Shepherd. He finished adjusting his stab vest.

'Not how I thought I'd spend my time when I left the army,' said Mayhew. 'Acting as a postman. Wish I was going in with you.'

'You'll get there one day, I'm sure,' said Shepherd.

'One day I'll tell you about the time we cleared a house in the centre of Basra,' said Mayhew. 'Took out three ragheads, bang, bang, bang. Got the third before the first hit the floor.'

A look of horror flashed across Daisy's face and she gasped. 'It was war, Daisy,' said Mayhew. 'Kill or be killed.' Daisy waddled away, her large thighs whispering against each other with every step. Mayhew grinned at Shepherd. 'Women,' he said, and hurried after her.

Shepherd checked that his identification numbers were in place on his shoulder straps, then went to stand next to c.o.ker and Kelly, who were already kitted up. The van was parked in front of an off-licence with posters in the window offering three cans of any beer or lager for the price of two.

There were few pedestrians around and those that there were hurried by, averting their eyes. It wasn't the sort of area where the police meant anything other than trouble.

Fogg was talking into his radio as he walked over to the van, where Castle was adjusting her stab vest. He patted her on the back. 'Ready?' he asked.

She nodded and went to join c.o.ker, Kelly and Shepherd. They were all holding their helmets but were already wearing their fireproof balaclavas. Parry, Simmons and Turnbull joined them. 'Right, here's how we play it,' said Fogg. 'Carpets, you go in with the enforcer. Take care of the door, step aside. KFC and Colgate, straight in and up the stairs. Turn right and into the main bedroom and contain the target. Nipple, you go right in behind them, take care of the woman. Try not to get too physical.'

'I'll talk to her nicely, Sarge,' said Simmons.

'Pelican, you head up after them, peel left and keep the kids quiet. Keep them in the room. As soon as the target is outside, put the woman and the kids together in the kids' bedroom, then get them out of the house. Three-amp, you go in after Pelican, stay on the landing and secure the hatch to the attic. No one goes up there before the CBRN boys have had a look. Lurpak, secure the bottom of the stairs just in case the target gets the jump on them.'

'O ye of little faith,' said Kelly.

'It wouldn't be the first time,' said Fogg. 'Is everyone clear on what they're doing?'

They all nodded.

'Remember, lots of noise, shout who we are and keep on shouting. We want total disorientation so that it's over before he has time to react.' Fogg looked at his wrist.w.a.tch, then at Gary Dawson, who was just finishing briefing his team, two of whom were kitted out in the bulky chemical-biological-radiological-nuclear suits. 'Okay, Gary?' he asked.

'Ready when you are, Foggy,' replied Dawson.

'Let's do it,' said Fogg.

Dawson and his team jogged towards the alley that led to the rear of the terrace. Parry picked up the bright orange enforcer from the rear of the van and stood next to Fogg. The rest of the team lined up behind Parry in the order that they would be entering the house Kelly, Turnbull, Simmons and Castle, with Shepherd and c.o.ker bringing up the rear. They all put on their helmets, pulled down their visors and adjusted their gloves.

Shepherd found himself breathing heavily as his body geared up for the coming confrontation. Castle turned to him and winked. 'No looking at my a.r.s.e as we go up the stairs,' she said.

'I promise,' he said.

'In we go,' said Fogg. Parry began to jog down the pavement, towards the house, holding the enforcer to his chest. As he got closer he increased the pace, and within seconds their boots were pounding in unison.

A VW Polo drove by and Shepherd caught a glimpse of a black woman glaring at them.

They reached the house. Everyone held back to give Parry room to swing the enforcer.

'I bet he does it in three,' said c.o.ker.

'Two,' said Kelly.

'The door's probably reinforced,' said Turnbull. 'A tenner says it takes him four.'

Parry grunted, swung back the enforcer and slammed it into the door, close to the lock. The wood splintered but the door held.

'One,' said c.o.ker.

'We can all count, Lurpak,' muttered Kelly.

Parry grunted again, swayed back, then slammed the enforcer against the door a second time, a few inches higher. It caved in and one of the hinges ripped from the surround. Parry stepped to the side.

'I win,' said Kelly. He kicked the door open and hurried over the threshold, his hands in fists, like a prize-fighter's. 'Police!' he screamed. 'Police! Stay where you are!'

He charged along the hallway, closely followed by Turnbull. By the time Shepherd was through what was left of the door, Kelly and Turnbull were already halfway up the stairs, shouting at the top of their voices.

Simmons hared up after them. 'Armed police!' he screamed, which Shepherd knew wasn't exactly true.

Kelly and Turnbull reached the top of the stairs, still shouting, and turned right towards the main bedroom. Simmons peeled off to the right.

Shepherd's boot caught on a loose piece of carpet and he stumbled, his hands flailing for balance. He grabbed Castle's waist and she yelped.

'Sorry,' he gasped.

'Stop trying to feel me up.' She headed for the bedroom where the children were.

Shepherd reached the top of the stairs. The hatch leading into the attic was closed. He stayed where he was, his face bathed in sweat, breathing hard.

c.o.ker was standing at the bottom of the stairs, looking up. He nodded at Shepherd. Parry stepped across the threshold and went into the sitting room, shouting. A few seconds later there was the sound of furniture being smashed and a crash that suggested that a television had been thrown across the room.

'We've got him!' shouted Kelly, from the main bedroom.

Simmons appeared at the door, holding a young black woman by the arm. She was wearing only a baggy T-shirt with a marijuana leaf in the colours of the Jamaican flag on it. 'My kids!' she screamed. 'Leave my kids alone!'

Simmons let go of her arm and she pushed Shepherd aside and ran to her children. He saw Castle standing by a bunk-bed talking to a little girl with dreadlocks. 'Leave my f.u.c.king kids alone!' shrieked the woman. Castle stood back as the woman grabbed the two children and hugged them. They were both crying.

Fogg came up the stairs. 'Everything okay?' he asked Shepherd.

'Seems to be,' said Shepherd.

'You're f.u.c.king animals, all of you! You should be ashamed of yourselves! You should be f.u.c.king ashamed of yourselves.'

'Calm down,' said Castle, raising her visor. 'You're upsetting your children.'

'I'm upsetting the children?' the woman yelled. 'I'm upsetting the f.u.c.king children? You're the ones who came in like the f.u.c.king Gestapo.' The children started to wail and she held them tighter. 'See what you've done?' she shouted. 'How would you like the Gestapo kicking your door down in the middle of the night?'

'We're not the Gestapo, it's seven o'clock in the morning, and it's your own fault for letting a drug-dealer live in your house,' said Castle, patiently. 'And if you thought anything of your kids you wouldn't let him put a meth lab in your attic. Do you know how dangerous that is? The whole house could go up in flames, or your kids could die from the fumes. We're doing you a favour here.'

Kelly and Turnbull pulled Alleyne out of the main bedroom. He'd been handcuffed with his hands behind his back. 'f.u.c.king pigs,' he shouted. 'Where's your warrant?'

'Put him on the bus,' said Fogg.

'I want to talk to who's in charge!' shouted Alleyne. 'This ain't right.' As Kelly and Turnbull dragged him along the landing, he saw his girlfriend. 'You call my lawyer, baby, his number's on the fridge. Tell him the pigs have hauled me in but I ain't done nothing.' He glared at Fogg. 'Where you taking me, man?'

'Ask me nicely,' said Fogg.

'f.u.c.k you, where you taking me? I got the right to know.'

Fogg ignored him and jerked his thumb at Kelly. 'On the bus,' he said.

Alleyne began to scream abuse at Fogg, the TSG and the Metropolitan Police in general as he was dragged down the stairs and outside. When his yells had faded into the background, Fogg went into the smaller bedroom, removing his helmet and gloves. He smiled at the woman and her two children. 'Shayla, my name's Roy Fogg,' he said. 'I'm a sergeant, based at Paddington Green.' He handed her a business card. 'I'm sorry about the way we stormed in, but we had to do it to make sure that no one got hurt. We'll pay for any damage and we'll check that your house is secure until everything's made good. Are your children okay?'

'They're scared,' she said. She kissed them. 'You ain't got no right to scare kids like you did.'

'Again, I'm sorry for that, but we were worried that Jerome might have started fighting if we hadn't come in quickly, and we didn't want him hurt. We certainly didn't intend to scare your children.' He smiled at the little girl with dreadlocks. 'I'm sorry we were so noisy, but we're not bad men,' he said to her.

The child smiled through her tears.

'We're going to have to search your house, I'm afraid, to see if Jerome left any drugs or weapons here,' Fogg continued. 'It'd make things a lot easier if you could tell me about any weapons or drugs you know about.'

'He don't have no gun,' said the woman. 'I told him, no guns in the house.'

'That's good,' said Fogg. 'But we're still going to have to look. And any damage that's done during the search, we'll repair it.' He gestured up at the ceiling. 'We'll be removing all the chemicals and equipment from the attic, and that's going to take some time, I'm afraid. But I've arranged for someone to take care of you and the children while we make the house safe.'

'I don't want to go. This is my house,' said the woman. She hugged the two toddlers tightly. 'You can't make me go.'

Fogg smiled rea.s.suringly. 'They'll give you breakfast and help entertain the kids, and as soon as we've finished they'll bring you right back,' he said. He nodded at Castle. 'This is Carolyn, she'll take you outside. And if you have any problems in getting the damage repaired, you call me all right? Roy Fogg. Okay?'

The woman nodded. 'Okay.'

'If you want to take anything with you, tell Carolyn and she'll help,' he said.

Castle took the woman and the two small children out of the bedroom and down the stairs. Shepherd flipped up his visor as Fogg came out of the bedroom. 'You've got a soft side, then, Sarge,' he said.

'She's not the villain here,' Fogg said. 'And you've got to be careful because entries like this can very easily turn racial. If she goes out screaming and alleging abuse then the neighbours will get riled up and before long bottles'll be thrown and all h.e.l.l breaks loose. But if she goes quietly then all's sweetness and light.'

Parry came up the stairs. 'Just putting him on the bus now, Sarge,' he said.

'Any problems?'

'He's a bit verbal but KFC and Colgate have him under control.'

Fogg jerked a thumb at the main bedroom. 'You help Nipple give that room a going over, then do downstairs.'