Knife Edge Read Online Free Page A

didn't need to read these files. He knew what they contained. What those contents meant and how important they were.
        'How many is it now?' Armstrong asked.
        'Including Hatcher and the two Sinn Fein men, eleven,' Wetherby informed him, turning back to face his colleagues. 'And Christ knows how many more to come if something isn't done soon.' The Major exhaled wearily. 'Just when it seems there's finally going to be peace, just when it looks as if we're finally going to be able to get out of this bloody place, this happens.' He jabbed a finger towards the files.
        'Are we sure who's behind it?' Wilton asked.
        'I wish there was some room for doubt but I'm afraid there isn't,' the Major told him.
        ‘We're just lucky the media hasn't got hold of it,' Armstrong oered.
        'As far as the media is concerned, it's a leftover from the conflict,' Wetherby said.
        'Two dead Sinn Fein men, both shot,' Wilton began, as if he was reading some kind of bizarre shopping list. 'An Ulster Unionist MP blown to pieces by a car bomb, five known IRA prisoners released from Long Kesh all shot, and three UVF men assassinated, one stabbed, one blown up and the other one shot. No common MO?'
        Wetherby shook his head.
        'It's only going to be a matter of time before each side starts blaming the other,' Wetherby added. 'This bloody peace is fragile enough as it is; there are those on both sides who don't need much more pushing to start hostilities again.'
        'It looks as if someone already started them,' Wilton said, closing the file.
        Wetherby sat down, fingertips pressed together.
        'These killings will go on unless we do something to stop them,' the Major said. 'As head of Military Intelligence here I feel we must act before it's too late. Before anyone else on either side is killed and, more importantly, before this peace settlement is jeopardised any further.'
        'What options do we have?' Wilton asked.
        'As far as I see it we don't have a choice,' Wetherby replied. 'There is only one course of action open to us.'
        The other two men sat motionless, gazing at their superior.
        'In three days' time seven more IRA men are due to be released,' Wetherby continued. 'It's my guess they'll be the next target. They're to be transported from Long Kesh to the border by minibus, escorted obviously. It's a tempting target.'
        'Just like the other five were,' murmured Armstrong.
        Wetherby nodded slowly. 'I don't see what else we can do,' he said wearily.
        'You said there was only one course of action open to us?' Wilton echoed, vaguely.
        'These killings must stop before the media make any connections. They'll have a field day with this and, if it gets out, God help us all,' the Major said, crossing to his desk. 'There is no choice.' He flicked a switch on the console. 'Cranley, send in Sean Doyle.'
        

7.41 A.M.
        
        Doyle saw the woman looking at him as she and her two companions approached.
         Come on, you fucking vultures.
        The first man, short, stocky and wearing a waxed jacket, was carrying a small case with him. The other man, bespectacled and crew-cut, was holding the camera.
        As the woman drew nearer, Doyle could see she was already wearing a radio mike, the power pack tucked into the pocket of her jeans. She had a thick scarf wrapped around her neck as added protection against the chill wind. Doyle watched as her long dark hair flowed behind her, stirred by the wind.
        The cameraman raised the machine and it was then that Doyle stepped forward.
        'Will you turn that off, please?' he said as politely as he could.
        'Who are you?' the woman asked, gazing at him intently.
        The camera moved round to focus on him.
        'Turn it off,' Doyle repeated, raising one hand.
        The man with the spectacles complied.
        'My name's