‘It’s like that but ten times worse. It was jointly named after the first person to be diagnosed with it and the doctor who identified the variant.’
‘And this is a regular thing?’
‘It’s the first one in Carlisle, Poe. The group who arrange the events concentrate on one motor neurone disease a year. They visit a city or large town each Sunday.’
‘Of all the bad luck,’ Mathers said.
Poe frowned. The Botanist didn’t rely on bad luck. He’d known this was happening. ‘I don’t think—’
A klaxon sounded.
‘What the hell was that?’ Mathers said.
***
‘The organisers sounded a klaxon for the run to start, sir,’ Mathers told the panel.
‘But by then you’d been told the event wasn’t contained to Chance’s Park?’ Commander Ratface asked. ‘Just the first part.’
‘Yes, sir. It seems that after the run there was a reception in the grounds of Carlisle Castle, with the High Sheriff and Lord-Lieutenant.’
‘How long were the runners in Chance’s Park?’
‘Just under half an hour, sir.’
‘And it was towards the end that the Botanist made his move?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Who’s that?’ Quebec 253 said.
‘We’re blind here,’ Mathers said, craning her neck in a vain attempt to see over the multitude of pink. ‘Describe what you see.’
‘Henning Stahl isn’t on his own any more. Someone is sitting opposite him. He’s wearing a brown hat and a tan coat.’
‘I’ve gone dead,’ Poe said, realising he could no longer hear the beating feet of the runners. He pressed his headpiece hard into his ear. ‘I’ve got nothing.’ He turned to the tech guy. ‘Now is not a great time for a malfunction.’
‘It’s not us!’ the poor man replied, frantically checking his systems. Poe didn’t doubt it – the Botanist had somehow found a way to jam their signals. Other than the Quebec callsigns, they were deaf, dumb and blind. They couldn’t hear Henning Stahl, they couldn’t speak to Henning Stahl and they couldn’t see Henning Stahl.
‘The Botanist used the cover of the crowd to move into the park, sir,’ Mathers said. ‘He had a radio frequency jammer with him.’
‘This was one of the things he left with Stahl?’
‘Yes, sir. It was a modified walkie-talkie. He’d altered the circuit board so the transmit button activated a jamming signal. Only about ten yards range but enough to render redundant the listening device on Henning Stahl.’
‘What happened then?’
***
Poe had been a policeman a long time. He had seen operations go sideways before. He’d even been on an operation when one undercover unit arrested another undercover unit. But he had never seen an operation go from complete control to total chaos. Not this quickly.
‘Quebec callsigns, do you have eyes on the target?’ Mathers urged.
One at a time, Quebec 251, 252 and 253 confirmed they had.
‘We need to get Henning Stahl out now, ma’am,’ Poe said. ‘He’ll be able to tell us what the Botanist looks like, but only if he’s alive.’
‘What helookslike? You don’t think we’re going to arrest him?’