Redlaw - 01 by James Lovegrove Read Free Book Online

have got a lot at stake here, no pun intended. We haven’t been able to PFI the new project, thanks to Mr Wax and his ethics. Principled and stubborn—it’s a bad combination. So my colleagues are getting restless and wanting to know when there’ll be returns and how soon they’ll start coming in. That coupled with the fact that in other areas we’ve been... well, rather too successful, if you see what I mean.”
    Slocock did indeed see.
    “The storm is rising faster than our projections predicted,” Lambourne said. “If we don’t bring the deadline forward, it may break, and if it does”—he splayed out his hands and shrugged his shoulders—“we all get drenched.”
    “Not much choice then,” Slocock said. “I have to win Wax over.”
    “Not much choice at all, I’m afraid.” Lambourne patted Slocock’s hand. “But I’m more than confident that you’re up to the challenge, my lad. In addition, I’ll be able to provide you with leverage to help.”
    “Leverage?”
    “Make sure you’re home tomorrow morning. Something will arrive that will give you what you need should negotiation fail.”
    As Slocock was pondering on this, the maître d’ shimmied up to the table.
    “All iz well, gentlemen? Ze food iz to your lahkeeng? Zere are no, ’ow you zay, issues?”
    “All is marvellous, thank you,” said Lambourne.
    Slocock’s fork paused on its journey to his mouth. On it was impaled a lump of steak so rare it looked raw.
    “Yes,” he said, smiling, as the meat dripped at his lips. “Yes, I think everything’s absolutely bloody marvellous.”

CHAPTER FOUR
     
    Redlaw was in the canteen, having his first coffee of the night, when Khalid walked in. Redlaw stood, scraping back his chair. He and the sergeant had unfinished business.
    Khalid didn’t take too kindly to being seized by the shoulder and being made to turn round.
    “Take your hand off me,” he said, adding, “Sir,” with as much of a curled lip as he dared.
    “Where’d you run off to last night?” Redlaw demanded. “I said I wanted words.”
    “And I wanted to avoid precisely this sort of thing,” Khalid replied.
    “A dressing down from a superior officer?”
    “No, a scene.”
    “I’ll give you a scene.” Redlaw was conscious of the dozens of eyes on them, the colleagues and ancillary staff watching. “You came barging in, all guns blazing. You reignited a situation I’d managed to defuse. You lost me an informant.”
    “I think you’ll find you did that last one yourself, captain.”
    “But what really matters is you were just letting that riot happen.”
    “Forgive me, sir, but I value the lives of the people under me, and going into that SRA would have been suicide.”
    “I went in. I’m still here.”
    “Then you’re clearly a better man than I am.” Quite a few of the SHADE employees in the canteen smirked at this remark. A couple even laughed out loud—cronies of Khalid’s, Muslim brothers. Khalid was emboldened. “Permission to speak freely?”
    “Go on then.”
    “What you did was admirable, undeniably. But it didn’t save those truck drivers, did it? You know as well as I do that they were dead long before you got there—long before any of us got there. So what would have been gained by us trying to rescue a pair of corpses, except possibly more corpses?”
    “It would have shown we mean business. SHADE has a reputation to uphold.”
    “You mean you have a reputation to uphold, as a full-on hard nut.”
    That was when Redlaw decided to deck Khalid. Not for being impudent; for being right.
    Khalid got up off the floor, rubbing his chin. He rose to his full height, which outdid Redlaw’s by a good three inches.
    “Captain or not,” he rumbled, “no one sucker-punches me and gets away with it.”
    “Then let’s go, sergeant. You and me.”
    “Everybody here’s a witness. You hit first.”
    “Don’t worry, I won’t have you up on an insubordination charge. Let’s sort this