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OPERATION PLAYBOOK

Then he glimpsed two men lurking outside his front gates. His pulse raced. They were cops, for sure. He turned and walked briskly around the side of his house towards the beach.

As he strode around the pool, the sun was rising across the ocean — the blue hour, creating exquisite morning light. He barely noticed, focused on escape. It was too late. The garden exploded into action. Men sprang out of bushes, jumped over fences, coming at him screaming, 'Stop, stop, don't move.' They surrounded him, pointing guns, screaming, 'On the ground, don't move or we'll shoot.'

Andre's heart was pounding hard. This was the moment he'd long feared. He fell to his knees and stuck his hands in the air. From all directions men were pointing guns at him, screaming, 'On the ground, get down on the ground.' Andre fell down flat on his stomach, turning his head to the side. Gun muzzles came in close. They were still shouting, 'Hands behind your head.' Andre clasped his hands at the nape of his neck. A boot smashed down on them, thrusting the side of his face deeper into the grass. 'Don't move or I'll blow your head off,' a cop shouted.

As he lay with his face scrunched into the grass, frantic thoughts rushed through his brain: call a lawyer... no drugs in house... bribe the cops. Before he even realised it, he was shouting out, 'I've got money. My money is in my safety box. You don't need to use violence.' If he were an innocent businessman, not expecting cops, he'd think these guys were thieves. So he acted the part. 'My money in the safety box — I'll just open the safety box, and then you can go.'

He then first heard the voice of a man who would become his nemesis. 'We're not thieves, Andre, we're Federal Police.' The cop bent down and flashed his badge in front of Andre's

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