Sowerbutt's Warning

“I don’t like this, John, I’ve had a telegram to the house and a telephone call to the office. Mr Sorbay isn’t a panic merchant,” the flame-haired man snapped into the telephone. Putting his glass of Hine onto the Cabinet table, he exclaimed: “You’ve had a telegram too, addressed to you as a sergeant, very funny. Clever way to get your attention, John. Well, what have we got? The Irish - that means the damned IRA - up to no good in this village. How soon can you get there, John, from the wilds of Norfolk? Three hours, dear God. Take the camp commander’s car, matter of national security. You have Redcaps there with motor-bikes? They will escort you to clear the way. This is an emergency, you act with the authority of the War Cabinet. You outrank any official or officer apart from the CIGS, you can countermand any order and seize any property. Get there pronto, John, and take charge.”

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Colour-Gold-A-Kings-Ransom-ebook/dp/B00HT7NUP4 

Sowerbutt's Marksman

As the Bedford truck pulled away, followed by wisps of smoke from the smouldering canvas, Major Hatter rolled off the roadside and grabbed a Lee-Enfield rifle, which had belonged to one of his men.He braced himself, aimed quickly at the lorry and fired. A second .303 bullet followed before the lorry disappeared behind the trees. He heard a shocked voice. “Tommy lad, Pat is dead. Some bastard has just shot him."

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Colour-Gold-A-Kings-Ransom-ebook/dp/B00HT7NUP4  

Sowerbutt's Explosion

Driving steadily through the quiet Cambridgeshire countryside, the mighty blast had come from nowhere. The front of the lead lorry had been lifted almost vertically, the chassis then falling backwards on the second lorry. The RASC driver in Major Hatter’s lorry had followed orders, crashing the gears into reverse. But it was seconds too late. As the red-hot bonnet bounced onto the roof, the driver-less lorry swayed from side to side and rammed backwards into the hedgerow.

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Colour-Gold-A-Kings-Ransom-ebook/dp/B00HT7NUP4 

Sowerbutt's Telegram

Sowerbutt told Nero to address the first telegram to Lord Bracken at Gingernut’s house in Lord North Street, Westminster; his office address would invite questions. He pushed the telegram form across the counter. “Your Lordship, Tracked Irish to Wilbraham off A11. Think working with friends. Will try witness, but expect trouble. Await instructions. Nero.”

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Colour-Gold-A-Kings-Ransom-ebook/dp/B00HT7NUP4

Sowerbutt's Ambush

Sowerbutt whispered. “The bastards are going to ambush a convoy, an army convoy from the sound of it. Not much we can do here with six of them and machineguns. We’ll leg it back to the village - I’ll call Gingernut from the telephone box, Nero can send telegrams from the post office.”

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Colour-Gold-A-Kings-Ransom-ebook/dp/B00HT7NUP4 

Sowerbutt's Visitors

Sowerbutt froze and held his hand up. Voices could be heard, some men walking along the main road. The two men pulled revolvers out of their shoulder holsters and rolled along the bank. Sowerbutt pointed to a gap in the base of the thick hawthorn hedge. They counted six men turning out of Mill Road onto the A11. 
http://www.amazon.co.uk/Colour-Gold-A-Kings-Ransom-ebook/dp/B00HT7NUP4

Sowerbutt's Work-Out

“Tell you what, Spaghetti,” Sowerbutt said, his long frame stretched down a bank behind the hedgerow on the A11. “I thought I was reasonably fit, but I’ve found muscles today I never knew about.” The two men had been ditching since before dawn, hacking roots, digging out grass and shovelling out soil and dead leaves to open up the field ditches. The farmer was paying them 4/- a day, plus food and a barn to sleep in.

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Colour-Gold-A-Kings-Ransom-ebook/dp/B00HT7NUP4