‘My name’s Rizwan Mohammed. I work for the Metropolitan Police’s Kidnap Unit. Is this the commander of the Pan-Arab Army of God at the Stanhope Hotel?’
‘I said I wanted to speak to the chief commissioner of the Metropolitan Police. The organ grinder, not one of the monkeys. Get him on the phone in the next five minutes or a hostage dies.’
‘I’m afraid I can’t do that. I’m the representative of the police and security forces. You’re going to have to talk to me.’
‘Then a hostage dies, and one will die every five minutes until he comes on the line.’
‘That’s not going to help you get what you want,’ Riz said calmly, but the line had already gone dead.
Arley looked up at the screen showing Phillips’ desk, and was surprised to see he was no longer sitting in it, and the audio feed was turned off.
‘Do you think he’ll carry out his threat?’ Arley asked Riz.
He shook his head. ‘I don’t think so, but in any case we can’t give in to him. Not at this stage. Otherwise he’ll be running rings round us. The hostage-taker always wants to establish control, and every negotiator knows that you can’t let him, however high the stakes are. We have to be the ones calling the shots.’
Arley knew this, but like most police officers who’d got as far as she had, she was a political animal with big ambitions, and she was aware that her actions tonight would put her in the spotlight. ‘But if he starts killing hostages and it comes out that it was because we wouldn’t let him speak to Commissioner Phillips, it won’t look good.’
She looked back at the screen. He still wasn’t at his desk.
‘And if we start letting him order us around this early in the negotiations then the chances are there’ll be more people dead later on.’
There was silence as they both weighed up their options.
‘Let me try him again,’ Riz said at last.
Arley sighed, knowing that whatever happened tonight, the buck would end up stopping with her. ‘OK. It’s your call.’
This time the phone was picked up straight away. ‘Yes?’
‘It’s Rizwan Mohammed again. Look, I know we can resolve this peacefully. Why don’t you tell me what you want?’
‘I want to talk to the man in charge.’
‘And I want you to know that if you talk to me, your message will be responded to at the highest level. Do you mind if I ask your name?’
‘You may call me Wolf.’
‘OK, Wolf. Are you the leader of the hostage-takers?’
‘I am,’ he said, and Arley could hear the pride in his voice.
‘And what is it that you want?’
There was a pause and what sounded like the rumpling of paper at the other end of the phone before Wolf started speaking again. He was clearly reading from a prepared text. ‘We want a commitment from the British government that British crusader forces will cease their hostilities against all Arab and Muslim lands, and remove their representatives from Arab and all Islamic soil within sixty days. We want a public statement from the Prime Minister promising that Britain will not use its influence in the United Nations Security Council to pursue Arab leaders for so-called crimes against humanity, and that it will henceforth keep out of Arab and Islamic affairs, and end its involvement in the so-called War on Terror.’
There was another silence.
‘Those are very ambitious demands,’ Riz said at last.
‘We are very ambitious people. And we also have a hotel full of prisoners, including a director of MI6. This puts us in a position of strength. Not you.’
‘Before we go forward, I need to speak to Michael Prior to ensure that he’s in good health.’
‘You and your government do not make demands of me. I make demands of you.’
‘And I will definitely do all I can to meet those demands. But I do need to speak to him now.’
‘We’ll consider it.’
‘It’s going to be extremely difficult to get my government to move on your demands if you don’t let me talk to him.’
‘I told you: we’ll consider it.’
‘Please do. It’ll be seen as a real gesture of goodwill by the British government.’
Riz looked up at Arley. His expression said: what more can I do? On the screen, she saw that Phillips had returned to his desk and was now listening intently. He made no move to speak, so Arley mouthed the words ‘leave it’ to Riz.
‘Also, we want the internet kept on,’ Wolf continued. ‘If you take away our access, a hostage will die every five minutes until you reinstate it. Do you understand that?’
‘Yes, but it’s not going to help our negotiations if you start killing people.’
‘Then do as I say and no one will get hurt. You have until midnight to meet all our demands. If they haven’t been met by then, we will execute your MI6 man and then one hostage every five minutes until they are. And for your information, we have rigged the building, including the areas where we’re holding the prisoners, with explosive devices, none of which needs to be detonated by mobile phone. If your forces make any attempt to storm the building in the meantime, we will detonate all the devices, and kill the hostages, and ourselves if necessary. We are warriors, and we are prepared to die.’
Arley saw the way Riz tensed at these words. It was exactly what they’d all feared. She tried to catch his eye, but he was hunched over his phone. Instead, she caught the eye of John Cheney. He raised an eyebrow but otherwise seemed unfazed by the way the conversation was going.
‘We understand there are wounded people inside,’ Riz said at last. ‘We’d like to send ambulance crews in to bring them out.’
‘There are no wounded people here.’
‘That’s not our understanding. We’d also like the release of all the children too. It will do your cause no good at all if any of them get killed. I’m sure you remember what happened in Beslan. All those children dying did untold damage to the Chechen cause.’
‘What do you know about the Chechen cause?’
‘Enough to know that the Chechen leadership acknowledged that Beslan was a failure. I’m sure the Pan-Arab Army of God don’t want that to happen.’
‘Don’t lecture me.’
‘I’m not,’ said Riz, and Arley could tell he was struggling to keep his voice conciliatory yet firm. ‘But it will help your cause if you’re shown to be merciful.’
‘We will consider your request,’ said Wolf impatiently. ‘And we have one final demand. Do not make contact unless you have good news. I’m well aware of the kinds of stalling tactics negotiators use, and we’re not going to tolerate them.’
The line went dead.
Arley took a deep breath as the tension slowly seeped out of the room, and put a supportive hand on Riz Mohammed’s shoulder. ‘You handled that well.’
Riz sat back in his seat and stretched. ‘That wasn’t easy.’
On the screen, Arley saw Commissioner Phillips talking to someone off camera. The audio feed was again turned off. Then he turned back and addressed the room. ‘I’ve just received word from the PM’s office that all mobile phone coverage and internet access is to be switched off inside the Stanhope with immediate effect.’
‘What?’ asked Riz, sounding startled. ‘They specifically demanded the internet be kept on.’
‘I know they did,’ said Phillips. ‘But these are the PM’s direct orders. He’s not prepared to let them make propaganda videos or communicate with the outside world from inside the hotel without us knowing about it. He’s currently hosting a meeting of COBRA, so it’s likely to be a group decision.’ He addressed Riz directly. ‘You can tell them we’ll restore the internet as soon as we speak to Prior.’
Riz looked concerned. ‘It’s a very risky course of action we’re taking. Their commander is not talking like a desperate man. He’s talking like a man who’s holding lots of cards. He’s part of a well-organized team. The way they got into the building, the way they booby-trapped the place – it all means that they know exactly what they’re doing. And we already know they’re quite prepared to kill innocent people. My feeling is that if we push them, they’ll react violently.’
Phillips’ sigh was loud in the room. ‘We have to make a stand and face the consequences.’
‘We have another major problem as well,’ said Arley. ‘We can’t actually meet any of their demands. The British government doesn’t negotiate with terrorists. And it would be political suicide to make a public statement effectively surrendering the UK’s foreign policy because we were being held to ransom.’
Riz nodded. ‘I believe the hostage-takers know that.’
Arley frowned. ‘So, why make the demands in the first place?’
‘Because they’ve planned this very carefully. First of all, by making demands, it extends the publicity they and their organization can get out of their operation. Also, it helps to shift the onus of blame on to the British government, because if we refuse to negotiate and turn down every demand flat, we’re going to end up catching a lot of the flak if things go wrong.’
‘For what it’s worth, I agree,’ said John Cheney. ‘They’re expecting an assault, which is why they’ve split up the hostages, and set such a short deadline. It’s all designed to make things harder for us to retake the hotel without mass casualties.’
‘There must be a way of bringing this to a peaceful conclusion,’ Arley objected.
‘Anyone can be negotiated with,’ Riz replied. ‘The fact is he’s already backed down a little by speaking to me. The key is to keep pushing him. One thing I know about Islamic culture, being a Muslim myself, is the importance of family. I know it’s a long shot, but if we can ID him and get members of his family involved in the negotiations, then we might be able to sway him from the present course.’
‘We’re doing everything we can to ID him,’ said Cheney. ‘But even if we do manage it, there’s a small something that we seem to have overlooked.’
Arley turned his way. ‘What’s that, John?’
Cheney moved away from the desk so that Commissioner Phillips could see him as he spoke. ‘The man we’re speaking to made some pretty major demands, and was obviously reading from something he’d prepared earlier, but at no point did he do what almost all hijackers and hostages do when they’re trapped. He didn’t ask for safe passage out. Not for himself or any of his men.’ He paused, and Arley felt the tension in the room cranking up again. ‘Which suggests to me that neither he, nor they, have any intention of leaving that place alive.’
AS SOON AS
Fox had the information he needed from Michael Prior, he used the laptop from his backpack to log into a hotmail account that only he and one other person had access to, where he left a simple three-word message in the drafts section:
I have it
. Leaving a message in the drafts folder was an old anti-surveillance trick. It meant that the content couldn’t be monitored or read by the security forces, since no message was ever actually sent over the internet.
He knew he had to move fast. Leaving Prior behind, he exited room 316 and took the emergency stairs to the second floor, where he stopped at room 202. Before he’d tampered with the guest reservation database, 202 had been empty. Now it was registered to Mr Robert Durran, a freelance architect who was on the first night of a two-night stay.
Using the master key card, Fox let himself into the room. The lights were off and the curtains open, letting in the flashing lights of all the emergency services vehicles gathered across the street. The bed was made and the room still had a fresh, unoccupied smell.
Fox unzipped the rucksack and removed the clothes and shoes he’d been wearing when he arrived at the Park Royal rendezvous earlier that afternoon. Next he pulled out a wallet containing a driving licence, passport and credit cards in the name of Robert Durran, as well as several hundred pounds in cash, from an internal pocket. He slipped the wallet into the front pocket of the trousers, then carefully placed the whole bundle under the bed, pushing it in so that it was well out of sight.
Finally, he looked round the room and, satisfied that his contingency plan was in place, headed back to join the others.
In the ballroom, Bear and Cat were sitting on hard-backed plastic chairs a few yards apart, watching the hostages. Both of them turned round as he entered the room. Cat gave him a bored, vaguely dismissive look, which meant that Wolf had yet to tell her about the death of her brother, while Bear, the ‘man with the face’ who’d saved Fox’s neck in Iraq all those years ago by pushing him out of the way of an IED, gave him a nod, which he returned.
Only a handful of the hostages looked up. There were seventy-seven of them in all, forty-six men and thirty-one women, and Fox had to admit they were an acquiescent bunch. Seated quietly at the far end of the room, their heads were down and they were behaving exactly as they’d been ordered. Either sensible or cowardly, depending on which way you chose to look at it.
To Fox, they were cowardly, and he walked past them and into the satellite kitchen.
Wolf was sitting alone at the far end next to the phone in the kitchen drinking a coffee and smoking one of his foul-smelling cigarettes. He turned round as Fox entered. ‘I’ve spoken to the negotiator and given him our demands. They want to speak to Prior. In fact, they are insistent.’
‘We need to be careful about that,’ said Fox. ‘They’ll be trying to pinpoint his location in the building. If you let them speak to him, they’ll know exactly where he is.’
‘We can always move him.’
‘True. But we’re already two men down so we can’t just shift him from room to room. It means manpower and logistics, not to mention risk.’
Wolf frowned. ‘So you think we shouldn’t?’
‘We don’t have anything to gain from it. Let them sweat a little. And in the meantime, let’s release the children. That’ll give them something to work with, and help to stave off any chance of an early assault.’
‘OK,’ said Wolf slowly. ‘That’s what we’ll do. But I’m not releasing any of their parents. I don’t want them giving anything away about us.’
Fox agreed with him. The minute any hostages were released, the police would be on them like a shot, trying to extract any information they could about what was going on inside the Stanhope – information that would later be handed over to the military for when they staged their inevitable assault. Children, however, would be of only limited help.