First Response (25 page)

She turned her face away from the rotor draught and put up her hand in a vain attempt to stop her hair whipping about. Hawkins was still grinning when she turned back to face him. ‘Plays havoc with the hairdo,’ he said. He held out his hand. ‘Pete Hawkins.’

‘You don’t look like SAS,’ she said, shaking it.

‘We scrub up well,’ he said.

‘I thought you’d be, you know, bigger.’

‘SAS.’ He laughed. ‘Short And Stupid.’

She grinned. ‘Paula Cooke. I’m in charge here today. I’m told to offer you any support you need and then to keep well away from you.’

‘Sounds perfect to me,’ said Hawkins. ‘We need a hangar where we won’t be disturbed.’

‘The biggest is over by the terminal,’ said Cooke.

‘Size isn’t that important, and the further away from the terminal the better,’ said Hawkins.

‘We have a smaller one that’s being used to respray a jet,’ said Cooke. ‘It wouldn’t be a problem to move it out.’

‘And could we get to it without going close to the terminal?’

Cooke nodded.

‘In that case you don’t have to evacuate the terminal. But all non-essential personnel will have to be moved out. I suppose you’ve already been told that the airport has to close?’

‘We’ve got four flights coming in within the next thirty minutes or so but all flights after that are being diverted.’ She looked at her watch, a slim Cartier on a leather strap. ‘Do you have any idea how long this is going to take?’

‘It’s open-ended, I’m afraid,’ said Hawkins. ‘But, trust me, we want to get it resolved as quickly as possible. Have you been advised about the media?’

‘We’re to keep them off the airport,’ Cooke said. ‘We’ve increased security at the gate and no one is getting in without prior authorisation.’

‘Sounds like you’ve got everything covered,’ said Hawkins. ‘Do you think you could show me and the guys this hangar?’

Kamran and Gillard stared at the main screen showing Sky News. Lisa Elphick was talking to an earnest young man in a dark grey suit. Across the bottom of the screen a headline moved slowly by: ‘ISIS PRISONERS TO BE RELEASED’. From where he was standing Kamran could barely hear what was being said, but he knew the gist. The prisoners were being released so that the sieges around the city could be brought to an end peacefully. The prime minister’s office had wanted the Metropolitan Police to issue the statement and the commissioner had suggested that the announcement came through the press office. It was clear that no one wanted to take responsibility for the decision, and Kamran could understand why. The reporter began asking Lisa questions but her answer was always the same – that there would be a press conference later that day, and while the operation was ongoing only a limited amount of information could be made public.

She was good, very professional and at the same time personable, smiling a lot, but then her job wasn’t on the line if anything went wrong.

Gillard looked at the clock on the wall. ‘Ninety minutes,’ he said. ‘This is going to be close.’

‘Presumably the deadline will be lifted once he sees the prisoners arrive at Biggin Hill,’ said Kamran.

‘I hope so,’ said the chief superintendent. ‘But I do worry that he intends them to blow themselves up, come what may.’

‘Have we given any thought to where we’re going to hold the prisoners at the airport?’ asked Kamran.

‘I was assuming we’d keep them in the van,’ said Gillard. ‘Then, once the coach is there, we run them straight back to Belmarsh.’

‘I was wondering if we should take them to RAF Biggin Hill,’ said Kamran. ‘It’s a separate enclave within the airport and it’s well away from the main terminal. There’s a chapel there, the former station headquarters and a number of barrack blocks. Most of the buildings are empty.’

‘Good idea,’ said Gillard. ‘Can you arrange that? And make sure the ARVs stand guard every second the van is at the airport.’

Kamran’s mobile rang on his desk. Number withheld. ‘It’s Shahid,’ said Kamran. Gillard and Thatcher hurried over to put on headphones. Waterman joined them.

Kamran waited until they were all listening before pressing the green button to accept the call. ‘There now, that wasn’t so hard, Mo, was it? Did you notice how the prime minister is avoiding responsibility for releasing our brothers? No mention of it being a political decision.’

‘Okay, Shahid, you’ve won,’ said Kamran. ‘There’s no need to gloat. The prime minister has agreed to your terms, so they’ll be on the plane with your people. You need to tell us where the plane will be flying to. We have to file a flight plan.’

‘No,’ said Shahid. ‘The pilots will be told of their destination once everyone is on board. Just make sure that it’s fully fuelled.’

‘It will be,’ said Kamran. ‘We want to send a coach now, to pick up the men, okay?’

‘Have the warriors been released? I mean, actually released from the prison?’

Kamran hesitated, not wanting to lie. ‘I’m not sure,’ he said.

‘I want to see them being released on television,’ said Shahid. ‘And not just on Sky. On the BBC. I want to see them leaving the prison. Then you can send the coach.’

‘I’m not sure we can do that at such short notice,’ said Kamran.

‘Then I suggest you try,’ said Shahid. ‘If not, everyone dies.’

‘What about the children on the bus? The prime minister has agreed to free your men. You said you’d let the children go.’

‘And I’ll keep my word, Mo. Make sure you do the same.’

The line went dead and Gillard looked at Kamran. ‘We have to start moving,’ said the chief superintendent. ‘We need the prisoners driven out of Belmarsh and we need the TV cameras there.’

‘Do they have to actually be in the prison transport?’ asked Waterman. ‘The van could be empty for all the cameras will see.’

‘We don’t know where this Shahid has people,’ said Gillard. ‘For all we know he could have someone in the prison. No, we put them on the transport. In fact, let’s allow the cameras to get a shot of them being loaded on. I tell you what, Mo, I’ll call the governor of Belmarsh while you arrange the TV and press coverage through Lisa.’

Captain Murray had been talking into his radio and came over as he tucked it into his jacket. ‘My men have a suitable hangar at Biggin Hill, and all non-essential personnel are in the process of being evacuated,’ he said.

‘Is there any way we can fix up a video feed?’ asked Kamran.

‘I’ll talk to the airport to see what’s available. I’m sure we can rig something up.’

‘Liaise with Sergeant Lumley to get the feed into the SOR,’ said Kamran.

‘How are you fixed for manpower here in London?’ Gillard asked the captain.

‘We’re at all the sites, and we still have men in Wellington Barracks. Why do you ask?’

‘We’re going to start the transfer from Belmarsh soon,’ said Gillard. ‘It would be helpful if we had a couple of cars with your guys in the convoy. There’ll be plenty of ARVs and motorcycle outriders but I’d feel happier if the SAS was in the mix.’

‘I’m on it,’ said Murray.

‘I’ve had a thought,’ said Kamran, as the SAS captain left. ‘We’re setting the hangar up as an SAS operation but, no matter what happens, it’ll be a crime scene at some point. Plus we’ll have to send emergency services, ARVs, Bomb Squad, followed by forensic teams. The full monty. Might be better to get a Silver Commander on the scene now. If nothing else, we’re going to need inner and outer perimeters, a JESCC, a scene-access control, a multi-agency marshalling area, and the sooner we start on that the better.’

‘How about Adams? He’s a safe pair of hands. He’s been here all day and knows what’s what. With blues and twos he could be there within the hour.’

Kamran looked up at the clock. ‘That’d only give him thirty minutes to spare.’

‘We could send someone from Croydon or Bromley but they’d have to be brought up to speed. The only closer alternative would be Kent Police. Send him. But we should be liaising with Kent Police, see what they can offer us in the way of resources.’

Gillard picked up his phone to call the deputy commissioner while Kamran went over to his briefcase. He took out a copy of the
Major Incident Procedure Manual
and went off in search of Inspector Adams.

He found him at one of the workstations in the middle of the SOR, wearing a headset and talking to someone animatedly. He finished the call, took off his headset and looked at Kamran expectantly. ‘You’ll be glad to know that Chief Superintendent Gillard wants you as Silver Commander out at Biggin Hill,’ said Kamran.

‘Me? Really?’

‘You’ve done a great job here throughout the day but we’re entering the end phase and we need someone who knows what they’re doing at the airport,’ said Kamran.

Adams looked worried. ‘I haven’t been in charge of a major incident this big before, sir. It might be too much for me.’

‘It’s not as daunting as it sounds,’ said Kamran. ‘The SAS will be in charge of the hangar. But no matter how the situation is resolved it will be a crime scene and they’re all the same. You’ll need to safeguard it and make sure that all the evidence is protected. But your first order of business is to do what we do at every major incident. Set up an inner cordon, which will be the hangar, obviously. Then an outer cordon. It’s an airport so you probably won’t need a traffic cordon. Make sure logistical support is lined up, arrange an RVP, a marshalling area, a multi-agency marshalling area, a multi-agency holding area, and a Joint Emergency Services Control Centre.’

Kamran fought back a smile as he saw the confusion on the inspector’s face. He gave Adams the manual he was holding. ‘Have a look at that in the car,’ he said, ‘and if you need any help, just give me a call. You’ll be fine. Really.’

‘Thanks, sir.’

‘You’ve done a great job today, Ian. It’s only right that you’re in at the finish.’

Adams smiled thinly. ‘I won’t let you down, sir.’

Kamran patted him on the shoulder. ‘I know you won’t,’ he said. ‘Now, off you go. The clock’s ticking.’

He went back to the Gold Command suite, just as Chief Superintendent Gillard was coming off the phone. ‘The prisoners are prepared for transit, Mo. Can you get a helicopter overhead to track the transport all the way to the airport? The one thing we do not want is to lose those guys.’

Kashif Talpur jumped as something buzzed at his waist. For a frantic few seconds he feared that the vest was about to explode but then he realised it was the mobile phone in his waistpack. He went to open it with his right hand but that would mean letting go of the trigger so he used his left instead. He pulled out the phone, his heart racing, and held it to his ear. ‘It is Shahid, brother. You are doing well. I am proud of you.’

‘I just want off this bloody bus,’ said Talpur.

‘Soon, brother, soon. We are talking to the authorities and I expect our brothers to be released soon. But right now I need you to do something for me. I want you to let the children go.’

‘The children?’

‘Anyone under sixteen can leave the bus. But do it carefully, brother. Explain that you are releasing the children and only the children. Do you understand?’

‘Yes.’

‘Only the children. If I see any of the adults getting off, I will detonate the vest.’

‘Okay, I hear you. But I don’t see any children.’

‘They are upstairs,’ said Shahid. ‘Two schoolkids and a baby.’

‘A baby? What about the mother?’

‘What mother?’

‘Holding the baby. She has to stay with the baby, right? The baby can’t get off on its own. It’s a baby.’

‘Yes, the mother can take the baby. But no other adults. If I see any other adults getting off – well, you know what will happen.’

‘Yes,’ said Talpur.

‘Then do it now, brother. I will call you back later.’

The line went dead and Talpur put the phone away. Talpur pointed at a middle-aged black man in overalls. ‘Hey, bruv, go upstairs and tell the woman with the kid to come on down. And the schoolkids.’

The man went upstairs. He reappeared a minute later with the mother, a woman in her twenties, her eyes wide and fearful, holding her baby. He motioned for her to join him at the front of the bus. The two schoolboys clattered down the stairs. Talpur waved them over. ‘You can go.’

‘What about me?’ said the man who had fetched them. ‘This is nothing to do with me. I’m a Muslim.’

‘Me too!’ shouted a middle-aged woman in a headscarf. ‘I’m a Muslim too. You should let the Muslims go. This isn’t anything to do with us.’

Within seconds everyone on the bus was imploring Talpur to release them, and virtually all of them were shouting that they were Muslims.

‘Shut up!’ he roared. ‘Seriously, all of you, just shut the fuck up! This isn’t about who’s Muslim and who’s Christian or who believes in Santa Claus. It’s about the kids. It’s about letting the children go.’

‘She’s not a child!’ shouted the woman in the headscarf. ‘She’s as old as I am.’

‘She’s holding the baby,’ said Talpur.

‘I’ve got children at home,’ said the woman. ‘I’ve got five children waiting for me.’

‘And be grateful for that,’ said Talpur. ‘Now listen to me. The driver’s going to open the front door. She gets off with the baby. Then the two kids get off. Then the driver closes the door. If anyone else tries to get off, this vest explodes and we all die.’

‘This isn’t fair!’ hissed the woman in the headscarf. ‘I hate the
kafirs
as much as you do.’

Talpur pointed the trigger at her. ‘You need to be quiet,’ he said.

The woman glared at him, muttering under her breath. Talpur nodded at the driver. ‘Open the front door,’ he said.

The driver did as he was told and the door hissed open. ‘Thank you, thank you, thank you,’ whispered the mother, as she clutched her baby to her chest and stepped off the bus. ‘God bless you.’

‘Just go,’ said Talpur. He waved at the two schoolkids. ‘You two, off the bus. Now.’ They scrambled past him. As the second went by, Talpur grabbed him and whispered something to him. The boy frowned at him, shook his head, then jumped off the bus.

‘Close the door!’ Talpur shouted at the driver. He watched through the window as police officers in fluorescent jackets rushed towards the woman and the children and hurried them away.