Deadline

Only fifteen yards and closing.

The explosion came out of nowhere, followed by a flash of very bright light somewhere in the crowd up ahead. Bolt shut his eyes and covered his head instinctively, but the moment he opened them again there was a second blast, coming from roughly the same direction. Panicked shouts broke out and there was a sudden surge of people barging and shoving into him as they attempted to get away from the explosion's source. He was knocked backwards and had to fight to keep his balance as he struggled through them, looking round frantically for Andrea but unable to see her among the mass of humanity blocking his view.

And then he was choking and his eyes began to water. It felt like someone had squirted ammonia in his face before dumping a load more down his throat. Tear gas. The bastards had let off tear gas grenades. The panic suddenly grew vastly worse as people began to experience its noxious effects, most of them doubtless fearing that this was some kind of terrorist attack. Bolt was battered like a ship in a storm as he tried to hold his ground amid the choking stampede, eyes squinting against the pain, his shirt pulled up to cover the lower half of his face.

Then a large empty space opened up in front of him. A handful of members of the public were on the ground, one with a cut on his head. Right in the middle, barely ten yards away, was Andrea. She was kneeling on the pavement, hands clutching her face. There was no sign of the holdall. Sirens were starting up now, and mounted police were galloping towards the scene, but they were still too far away to be of any immediate help.

Eyes still streaming, Bolt tried to focus on the backs of the fleeing people, his eyes sca

And then he caught a glimpse of the holdall, slung over the shoulder of a guy in a black baseball cap. He was rounding the corner into an adjacent street, moving fast as he was carried along by the fleeing crowd, already disappearing from sight.

Still choking, Bolt leaned into the mike and spoke rapidly. 'Suspect fleeing with bag into…' He looked for a street sign, couldn't see one. 'Into one of the streets off the high road, heading due west.'

'Control to all units,' shouted Barry through the earpiece. 'Do not lose that bag! We are trying to get CCTV up and ru

'There he is,' spluttered Bolt, still swallowing acrid-tasting gas as he pointed.

Turner had already spotted him and was pushing through the crowds of supporters in his direction, followed by Kris Obanje and Tina Boyd. It was Turner who was moving the fastest, as if being cooped up in Andrea's place had given him a huge new reservoir of energy, as well as a point to prove. He wasn't the biggest or strongest of guys but he ploughed through the mob, shoving people aside as he ate up the distance between himself and the holdall.

'Mo,' yelled Bolt, 'stay with Andrea!'

Before his colleague could reply, Bolt was past him and joining the chase, his eyes begi

It was fifteen seconds since the first explosion, and already the gas was dissipating, and its effects wearing off on those who'd been affected. Now most of the crowd were coming to a halt as their more voyeuristic tendencies took over, creating a dense wall which acted as a perfect cover for the fleeing suspect. 'Police! Out the way!' Bolt screamed as loudly as he could as he charged into them, no longer seeing the point in trying to keep a low profile. Being football fans, they weren't in a desperate hurry to be cooperative, but Bolt was a big man, and one who knew that if he lost the guy with the holdall then he'd almost certainly lose the daughter he'd never known, so today he wasn't stopping for anyone. If he'd had a gun, he would have waved it, even fired off a couple of shots in the air and risked the sack.

Still yelling, he pushed right through them, ignoring the outraged cries and the insults, catching up with Tina and Obanje and passing them. Turner was ten yards further ahead, at a point in the street where the crowd was begi

And then there was a blurred movement in the corner of Bolt's eye. It was so quick that it took him a second to register the man in black cap and sunglasses and brand-new Tottenham shirt as he ran headlong into Turner from the side. Bolt caught a glint of metal as the man's hand shot out once, making contact, and then he was dancing past him and ru

Bolt stopped when he reached him, putting a hand on his shoulder. 'Matt, you all right?'

Through the earpiece, Barry demanded to know what was going on. It was only then that Bolt saw the growing bloodstain on his colleague's shirt.

'Shit!'

Turner looked up, his eyes wide and fearful, his expression almost childlike. 'I think I've been stabbed, boss,' was all he said, and then he put a hand out to steady himself and lay down on his side, almost as if he was about to go to sleep.

'Officer down!' yelled Bolt into the mike. 'Stabbed by second suspect. We need urgent medical help immediately.'

'What the hell happened?' yelled Barry in his ear, his tone close to full-blown panic as the full enormity of what was happening began to hit home. 'Control to all units, secure the scene. Secure the money. Armed back-up is arriving shortly.'

Bolt knew that the important thing was to stay calm and take the lead. In the ten seconds since Turner had got hit, the man with the bag had disappeared. They had to get him. Obanje and Tina had arrived now and Bolt yelled at Obanje to keep up the chase and Tina to stay with her injured colleague.

'What about the one who stabbed him?' she demanded.

'He's mine,' hissed Bolt, jumping to his feet.

The knifeman had run off down Tottenham High Road and he, too, had disappeared from view, but Bolt wasn't going to give up that easily. He didn't give a toss about the money, that was irrelevant, but this bastard, whoever he was, had seriously injured one of his men, as well as put Bolt himself through over a day's worth of personal hell. He hadn't got a good enough look at him to see whether or not it was Ridgers, but he didn't think it was. Guessing that he would keep the black cap on to avoid being ID'd by CCTV cameras, and knowing he wouldn't have got far, Bolt took off after him, ignoring the frantic chatter in the earpiece.

He almost hit a police horse and took no notice of the shouted command of its rider as he ran down the middle of the road between the lines of stationary cars, his eyes sca