False Friends (31 page)

‘Inshal ah,’ said Chaudhry. God wil ing.

Shepherd looked up at the screen showing the map of central London. The position of the van containing Raj and Harvey was marked with a red flashing light. ‘The station,’ he said. ‘St Pancras.’

Charlotte Button nodded in agreement. ‘I think you’re right.’

‘Lots of people, high profile; they could do a lot of damage.’ He ran a hand through his hair. ‘We need to be looking for more of them,’ he said. ‘If they’re attacking the station they might be going in mob-handed.’

Commander Needham looked up from his console. He was holding a phone a few inches from his ear. ‘We might want to consider multiple targets,’ he said. ‘If this is in some way a repeat of Seven-Seven they could be planning to attack several places at the same time.’

‘What do you suggest, Commander?’

‘I can talk to our CCTV centre and get our people looking for Muslims in vans.’ He smiled thinly. ‘God forbid we should be profiling, of course.’

‘Do it, please, Commander.’ The commander nodded and pul ed on his headset. ‘Luke, you need to ask al our watchers to keep an eye out for other possible attackers. Vans, cars – if they fol ow the profile of this one then we’re looking for two Asians in the front, more in the back. If they see anything they’re to let us know immediately.’

‘Wil do,’ said Lesporis.

Button looked across at Shepherd. ‘This could very easily go wrong,’ she said.

‘You want to pul them over?’ asked Shepherd.

‘That’s not going to help if there are others,’ she said.

‘What about Khalid? Any news?’

‘No sign of him,’ said Button.

‘That’s not good,’ said Shepherd.

‘You’re tel ing me.’

Harith twisted around in his seat. ‘Two minutes and we wil be there, brothers,’ he said. He pointed at one of the plastic crates. ‘Open that, brother,’

he said to Malik.

Malik leaned over and pul ed the lid off the crate. Inside were two Timberland backpacks. One was black, the other blue. Chaudhry reached over to grab the black one and passed it to Malik, then he took the blue one for himself.

‘Do not open them, brothers,’ said Harith.

Chaudhry rested the backpack on his knees. ‘What is it, brother? What’s inside?’

‘You do not need to know,’ said Harith. He gave a sheet of paper to Chaudhry. It was a map.

‘This shows you where you are to go,’ he said. ‘Wait there and you wil receive further instructions.’

‘Are we to become shahid?’ asked Malik. He was sweating and his Adam’s apple was bobbing up and down. He pushed down the hood of his parka and shook his hair from his eyes.

‘If it is the wil of Al ah, who are you to argue?’ said Harith.

‘Why won’t you tel us what’s happening?’ asked Malik.

Chaudhry put a hand on his friend’s shoulder. ‘Hush, brother,’ he said. ‘This is what we trained for.’

Harith nodded enthusiastical y. ‘You must put your trust in Al ah.’

Malik opened his mouth to say something but Chaudhry squeezed his shoulder and shook his head.

The van came to a stop. ‘Al ah be with you, brothers,’ said Harith.

‘And with you, brother,’ said Chaudhry. ‘Al ahu Akbar.’

‘Al ahu Akbar,’ repeated Harith.

Malik opened the door and stepped out on to the pavement. Chaudhry fol owed him and slammed the door shut. A cold wind blew against their backs and they both pul ed up the hoods of their coats as they watched the van drive away.

‘Raj, what the hel are we going to do?’ asked Malik.

Chaudhry hefted the backpack on to his shoulders and turned to face the building they were standing next to. St Pancras Station.

Button watched the van drive away from the station on the screen showing the feed from the police helicopter. ‘Tel the chopper to keep with the van,’ she said. ‘They’re not to be stopped. Just keep an eye on them.’ She tapped her fingers on her lips as she stared at the map, which was now centred on the station. ‘Can we get a CCTV feed on the two of them?’ shouted Button. ‘We need to see if they’re being coerced.’

‘I’m on it,’ said a young man in a grey suit.

‘And can we get video feeds from inside the station?’ asked Button.

‘I’l talk to the BTP’s Major Incident Communication Centre,’ said the man, tapping on his computer.

Button looked over at Shepherd. ‘It has to be the Eurostar.’

‘I don’t think they’re after the Eurostar. Raj wasn’t told to take his passport with him,’ said Shepherd.

‘I have a feed now,’ said the man in the grey suit. ‘Screen five.’

They al looked at the screen. Chaudhry and Malik were standing on the pavement, deep in conversation. They both had backpacks on.

‘Shit,’ said Shepherd.

‘Shit is right,’ agreed Button. ‘The question is, what are they up to? They might have fake passports ready to go abroad. But the security to get on the cross-Channel trains is as tough as at the airports so I don’t see them getting bombs or guns on board. But they could do a lot of damage in the station. I just wish I knew what was in those backpacks.’ She cal ed over to one of the men in front of the terminals. ‘Peter?’ A middle-aged man in a sports jacket swivel ed his chair to face her. ‘Is there any way we can get an explosives dog to the station, now?’ asked Button.

‘I’l try,’ he said.

‘If we can run a dog through and get a reaction that wil tel us something,’ said Button. ‘But on the QT, no confrontation.’

‘Got it,’ said the man, turning back to his computer keyboard.

‘Can the dog tel the difference between explosives and ammunition?’ asked Shepherd.

‘I hope so,’ said Button.

‘I have an ARV close to the station,’ said Commander Needham. ‘Do you want us to intervene?’

‘Give me a moment, Commander,’ said Button.

‘Understood, but be aware that our only chance of getting any sort of clear shot wil be gone once they go inside.’

‘Duly noted,’ said Button tersely. She stared at the screen that showed Chaudhry and Malik standing at the Midland Road entrance. ‘What’s your take on what’s happening, Spider?’

‘The backpacks are big enough for carbines, assuming they’ve got folding stocks,’ said Shepherd. ‘And bombs can be any size. The Seven-Seven bombers had backpacks and rucksacks.’ He shrugged. ‘I just don’t know. There’s no way of tel ing.’

‘The backpacks look bulky, don’t they? Would carbines look like that? They look as if they’re packed with something.’

‘Then that would mean explosives. And that would mean a suicide mission. That doesn’t make sense. Raj and Harvey weren’t being groomed to be martyrs.’

‘Unless they’re being lied to. It wouldn’t be the first time that men have been duped into becoming martyrs.’

‘Hel , Charlie. I don’t know. I don’t know what their mindset is. Certainly Raj and Harvey never believed that they’d be sent on a suicide mission.’

‘We have a clear shot,’ said the commander. ‘Do I have a green light?’

‘Wait!’ said Shepherd.

The commander looked at Button. ‘We can take them out now with zero col ateral damage,’ he said. ‘We might not get another chance.’

Button opened her mouth to speak but Shepherd held up his hand. ‘Just give me a minute,’ he said. ‘Let me think.’

‘The clock is ticking, Spider,’ said Button.

‘Amen to that,’ said the commander. ‘If there are bombs in those backpacks we need to neutralise the threat now, before they go into the station,’

he said.

‘Neutralise the threat?’ repeated Shepherd. ‘Why don’t you say what you mean? Shoot them. That’s what you’re suggesting, isn’t it?’

‘Easy, Spider,’ said Button. ‘We’re just fol owing protocol here. If they’re carrying bombs and there’s a chance that they are going to be detonated then we have to minimise civilian casualties. And the best way of doing that is to take them down sooner rather than later.’

‘I don’t see triggers, do you? They’ve just got backpacks. There could be anything in them.’

‘Including bombs with timers.’

‘Let’s just wait a little longer.’

‘We’re running out of time,’ said Button.

Lesporis stood up. ‘Charlotte, we have another van approaching St Pancras. Two Muslim males in the front.’

‘What?’ said Button, turning to look at the screen showing the map of London. A flashing light was moving east towards the station. ‘Do we have video?’

‘Screen eight,’ said Lesporis. They looked at the screen. A white van was sitting at a set of traffic lights. ‘We have a bike behind them. That’s where we’re getting the video feed from.’

‘They’re on Euston Road,’ said Button. ‘If they’re going to St Pancras they’l be there in the next five minutes. How many are in the van?’

‘We think three in the back but there are no windows so we can’t be sure,’ said Lesporis.

‘So there are more of them on the way?’ said the commander.

‘It seems so,’ said Button.

On the screen, Chaudhry was talking to Malik.

‘I wish we had audio,’ said Button. She went over to stand behind Lesporis and put a hand on his shoulder. ‘Make sure our watchers stick with that van and find out where it goes.’

‘I’m on it,’ said Lesporis.

Chaudhry stopped and stared up at the sign above the station. A CCTV camera was looking down at them. Malik stood next to him.

‘What are we going to do, Raj?’ asked Malik.

‘Let me think,’ said Chaudhry.

‘Think? What the hel are you thinking about? What if we’re carrying bombs? Those bastards could be preparing to blow us up right now.’

Chaudhry turned to look at the van that had dropped them off. It was turning on to the main road.

‘Raj? Come on, brother, get a grip, wil you? What do we do?’

‘He didn’t say anything about a bomb. He just said we go into the station and we’l get further instructions.’ Chaudhry held up the map. ‘This is where we have to go.’

‘And you believe that? And where the hel is Khalid? For al we know he could be cal ing up mobile-phone detonators right now. We’re dead men walking, brother.’

‘Just give me a minute, wil you?’ Chaudhry looked at Malik’s backpack. It was bulky, as was the one on his back. He jiggled his. It made no sound. The pack was heavy, but not uncomfortably so. He tried to remember his time in the training camp in Pakistan. For several days they’d been shown how to make and use various types of explosives, and even how to construct a suicide-bomb waistcoat.

‘They’re not heavy enough,’ said Chaudhry.

‘What do you mean?’

‘If the target’s a station then the bombs would have explosives and metal for fragmentation. Nuts, bolts, nails. Otherwise you just get a loud bang.

Feel the weight. They’re not packed with metal.’

‘So what do you think we’re carrying? Packed lunches?’

‘Poison? But that doesn’t real y make sense. Poison in a rucksack isn’t going to hurt anybody. Guns, maybe. Handguns. Perhaps that’s it. Maybe we get into position and they cal us and tel us to start shooting.’

‘I’m not shooting anybody. Look, let’s just dump the backpacks and get the hel out of here.’

‘That’s not an option, Harvey. Look, we’re not carrying bombs. I’m sure of that. So we go inside and see what they want us to do next. We can stop at any time.’

‘So let’s stop now.’

‘If we drop the bags and run, that’l be it. How do we know they’l catch Khalid?’

‘That’s not our problem, Raj.’

‘Yes, it is,’ hissed Chaudhry. ‘These people kil civilians. They’re terrorists so that’s what they want to do – terrorise. They kil and maim innocents because that way they spread terror. And if we don’t stop Khalid maybe he’l kil your sister. Or my parents. Or our friends. These bastards don’t care who dies, Harvey. They blow up tube trains and buses and even mosques. And if we don’t stop them, who wil ?’

‘I don’t want to die, brother.’ Malik was close to tears.

‘No one’s going to die,’ said Chaudhry. ‘Not today. I promise.’

The young man in the grey suit raised a hand. ‘BTP want to know how many feeds you want?’

‘Al of them,’ said Button.

‘We can get them al but there are more than a hundred cameras inside and outside. They’re asking if you want them to be selective.’

‘We need them al ,’ said Button.

‘I told them that but the point they’re making is that if they send them as individual feeds we won’t have enough screens here. They’re suggesting they send us split-screen feeds with sixteen views per screen.’

‘That’l do,’ said Button.

The man put a hand to his Bluetooth headset and nodded as he listened to what he was being told. He put up his other hand and made a waving motion at Button. He muttered something into his headset and then nodded at Button. ‘What they’re saying now is that you can have multiple feeds but you won’t be able to home in on any particular frame.’

‘Just tel them to send the feeds now,’ said Button tersely.

The van that had been driving along Euston Road stopped outside the station. The video from the bike that was fol owing the van shook for a few seconds and then stabilised.

Button turned to the commander. ‘Have you got a firearms team at the Euston Road entrance?’

The policeman nodded. ‘Already in place but stil in their vehicle.’

‘Let’s leave it that way for a while longer,’ said Button. She cal ed over to a red-haired woman sitting at the far side of the room. ‘Marie, can you get me a floor plan of St Pancras showing al the entrances?’

‘I’m on it,’ said Marie, tapping on her keyboard.

‘The first feeds are coming through,’ said the young man.

‘Thanks, Toby,’ said Button. She pointed at the wal of screens. ‘Let’s clear the top row and put them al there.’

‘I’ve another ARV on the way,’ said the commander.

On one of the screens, three Asians got out of the back of the van on Euston Road. Al were wearing backpacks.

A black screen flickered into life. It was fil ed with a map of the station, showing Euston Road to the left, Midland Road at the top and Pancras Road at the bottom.

Button walked over to the screen and tapped the top of the map. ‘This is where Chaudhry and Malik are,’ she said. ‘The Midland Road entrance.’

She moved her finger and tapped the left-hand side of the map. ‘This is where the second van is. I need everyone to start looking at the CCTV