Die Twice by Andrew Grant Read Free Book Online

be women. Our job was to help the police spot them, so they could be arrested before any damage was done. We had their pictures. We believed they would be arriving by train. But still, picking them out of a crowd of tens of thousands of people wasn’t going to be easy.
    We were given our destinations as soon as the morning briefing was over. Mine turned out to be Birmingham. I made good time up the motorways, dumped my unmarked car on some waste ground near the spot where the Aston Expressway crosses Trinity Road, and started to make my way toward the railway station. This part was slow going, pushing my way through the unbroken river of people. Then, when I was nearly at the stadium, we stopped moving completely. Some sort of disturbance had broken out just ahead of me. I shouldered my way through the onlookers to find out what was going on. A knot of people had formed outside a pub. Two were supporters of the visiting team, and five were home fans. It was a dangerous combination, but still at the pushing and shoving stage.There was still time for it to be defused. I looked around for the police. There were none to be seen. I called it in, but was told that somehow, inexplicably, there was no cover in that sector. The nearest officers were ten minutes away. An eternity, in the circumstances. Punches started to be thrown. One guy went down. He took a kick to the head. A knife appeared. Then another. I scanned the crowd. People were sickened. Excited. Fascinated. Horrified. Delighted. But none of them was ready or able to intervene. The situation was out of control. It was on the verge of becoming a bloodbath.
    Unless I stopped it.
    I did step forward. But not to break up the fight. Instead I just eased around the edge of the mob and continued on my way. I had a job to do. The next ten minutes were difficult, pushing visions of the guy on the ground out of my head and trying to focus on the pictures of the terrorists I’d memorized that morning. Comparing them against the swarms of happy, smiling supporters. And trying to conceal my surprise when I finally spotted a face I did recognize.
    One of my instructors.
    The whole episode had been staged. There was no plot to release acid into the crowd. The point of the exercise was completely different. To see if you had the presence of mind to put the needs of the many ahead of the few. Even in the heat of the moment. Even when you had to get blood on your shoes to do it. Because that put the place of civilians in its full context. You don’t involve yourself with them on purpose, but occasionally they get caught up anyway. Sometimes by accident. Sometimes through their own greed. Sometimes because of stupidity. And sometimes, plain bad luck.
    But whatever the cause, it wasn’t your problem.
    You couldn’t allow anything to stand in the way of your objective.

    When they saw the remains of the shattered apartment, the fire department wanted to take me to hospital. The police wanted to take me to jail. And Fothergill wanted to take me somewhere secluded so he could shoot me.
    Fothergill came closest. He got the first half of his wish, at least.
    After we’d disentangled ourselves from the authorities, I got him to stop at my hotel so I could change my clothes. The look on his face as we drove told me not to expect much hospitality once we reached the consulate, so I made him stop again at the nearest Starbucks. I was in need of a major dose of caffeine. And then, when I was well enough supplied, I let him drag me back to his office.
    “Are you fit?” he said, glaring at me from behind his desk. “Can you at least continue?”
    “Of course,” I said, dragging one of the visitors’ chairs across the room and sitting down.
    “What did the paramedics say?”
    “Not much.”
    “They seemed to be worried.”
    “They’re paid to be worried. It’s nothing.”
    “Your head’s OK? They spent a long time looking at it.”
    “I took a knock in New York, last time out. They