First Response (33 page)

She sneered and said something to him in Arabic. He didn’t understand the words but the meaning was clear enough.

‘Listen to me carefully,’ he whispered. ‘I’m a police officer and I need your help.’

She spat in his face and turned away.

‘Thank you so much,’ said Talpur. He wiped his face with his sleeve. He turned to the man sitting on the other side of the aisle.

‘What is your name, brother?’ he asked.

‘We need to sit quietly,’ said the Asian man sitting by the window.

‘What’s your name, mate?’ Talpur asked him.

‘Zach. Zach Ahmed.’

‘Well, Zach, I’m a cop.’

‘You don’t look like a cop,’ said Ahmed. ‘Not with that beard.’

‘I’m undercover.’

‘Like fuck you are,’ said Ahmed. ‘Show me your warrant card.’

‘Undercover cops generally don’t carry warrant cards. It’d sort of negate the whole point of being undercover,’ said Talpur. ‘Look, we’re all in the same boat here. We all saw what happened this morning. But the windows are blacked out so Shahid can’t see what we’re doing.’ He nodded at the man sitting next to Ahmed. ‘What’s your name, mate?’

‘Mohammed.’

‘Where are you from, Mohammed?’

‘Sudan.’

‘Okay, Mohammed from Sudan, I need you to check how this vest is fastened. I’m going to turn around and I want you to reach inside my coat and see if you can work out how it’s fastened. There might be a lock or it might just be tied.’

‘Are you fucking stupid?’ said Ahmed, leaning forward to stare across the aisle at him. ‘We were told not to try to take the vests off. He said they’d explode, remember?’

‘I’m not taking it off, I’m just trying to find out how it’s fastened. He might have been bluffing.’

‘Bluffing? You remember what happened to that guy who didn’t do as he was told? He’s in pieces. Remember?’

‘Yes, I remember,’ said Talpur. ‘But those blacked-out windows mean Shahid can’t see what we’re doing.’

‘You don’t know what he can or can’t see,’ said Ahmed. ‘But you need to stop fucking about. You’re going to get us all killed.’

‘What is your problem, mate?’ asked Talpur.

‘My problem is that I know what will happen if Shahid finds out we’re not following his instructions. We’re nearly done, the ISIS prisoners are already at the airport, we’ll be there soon. Then we’ll be released.’

‘You have a lot of faith in Shahid,’ said Talpur.

‘He’s kept his word so far,’ said Ahmed. ‘The prisoners have been released so he’s got what he wants. Once they’re on a plane he won’t need us any more.’

‘Exactly,’ said Talpur. ‘So what’s to stop him just blowing us all the fuck up?’

‘We have to trust him,’ said Ahmed.

‘I don’t,’ said Talpur. He patted Mohammed’s leg. ‘Check under my raincoat. Just reach inside and pat my back gently …’

‘Mohammed, you so much as touch him and I will break your fingers!’ hissed Ahmed.

‘This is nothing to do with you, mate,’ said Talpur.

The man sitting directly in front of Talpur twisted around in his seat. ‘He is right, sir,’ he said quietly. He was darker-skinned than the other men, and taller, from Africa maybe. He had a thick scar across his cheek. ‘Better we sit quietly.’

Talpur shook his head in frustration. ‘You’re all making a big mistake,’ he said.

‘It is in the hands of Allah,’ said the man in front of him as he turned away.

Kamran was watching two screens on the main wall of the special operations room. One was showing Sky News. Their helicopter had got as close to the airport as it had been allowed but they had lost sight of the coach and the channel was broadcasting now from the gates of the airport. Police were stopping anyone going in but they had allowed the news crews and photographers to set up a short distance away.

The second screen was showing the live feed from the police helicopter, which had been authorised to fly over the airport. The overhead view showed the coach a few hundred yards away from the airport entrance. Kamran twisted around and called over to Gillard, ‘They’re arriving at the airport now, Philip.’

The chief superintendent stood up and joined him at the doorway. The convoy was powering along the road, blue lights flashing. The lead police motorcycles turned into the airport and drove through the gate, followed by an ARV, then the coach.

The Sky News screen showed a close-up of the driver, who was turning his head away from the camera, then the blacked-out windows flashed by.

A third screen showed the feed from the hangar, where the SAS were waiting behind walls of sandbags, weapons at the ready. All eyes in the SOR were on the black and white view inside the hangar.

Hawkins heard the coach in the distance. ‘Here we go,’ he said. He was standing behind a stack of sandbags arranged at the side of the hangar. There were four more troopers behind another sandbag wall to his left.

The negotiating team from Bromley were waiting in the main terminal with the Silver Commander, Ian Adams. They had seemed relieved when Hawkins had asked them to clear the area. He’d gained the impression they were more used to dealing with domestic disputes and weren’t at all comfortable with the idea of negotiating with nine jihadists prepared to kill themselves and their hostages.

‘Everybody stay behind the bags until I say otherwise,’ said Hawkins. ‘It could be they’re after the SAS so let’s not give them the satisfaction.’

The engine growl got louder and then there was a squeal of brakes. The coach reached the open hangar doors and turned in. Hawkins peered over the top of the sandbags and caught a glimpse of Terry McMullen at the wheel, wearing his lucky flat cap. The coach reached the centre of the hangar and stopped. There was a wheeze of the air brakes being applied and everything went quiet. After a few seconds the door opened, but then everything was quiet again.

‘The door’s open,’ said Gillard. Kamran’s mobile rang on his desk and he dashed over to it. Number withheld. ‘It’s Shahid.’ He waited for Gillard, Thatcher and Waterman to put on their headphones before he picked up the phone and accepted the call. ‘Yes?’ he said.

‘Mr Kamran?’

Kamran frowned. It was a man, but not Shahid. ‘Speaking.’

‘Do you have a pension, Mr Kamran?’

‘A pension?’

‘You might not be aware of the fact but the regulations regarding the monetisation of pension funds changed recently and we are in a position to offer you a package …’

‘You’re trying to sell me financial advice?’ asked Kamran.

‘We’re not trying to sell you anything, Mr Kamran, but I’m sure you would like to maximise the income from any pension fund you have, wouldn’t you?’

‘Don’t use this number again,’ said Kamran. He ended the call. Gillard, Thatcher and Waterman took off their headphones. Kamran looked at Thatcher. ‘Why isn’t he calling?’ he asked the negotiator.

Thatcher shrugged. ‘Maybe he’s trying to build the tension,’ he said.

‘Well, it’s working, all right,’ said Waterman.

‘The prisoners are there and so are the bombers,’ said Kamran. ‘And we don’t know what he wants us to do next.’

‘On the bright side, from now on we’ll be the only ones who’ll see what’s happening,’ said Waterman. ‘From a PR point of view, they’ve just gone several steps backwards.’

‘Maybe it’s not about PR,’ said Kamran.

‘But what, then?’ asked Gillard. ‘What the hell does he want? And why won’t he tell us?’ He looked up at the screen. ‘What do we do now? Wait or send in the negotiators?’

‘I’d recommend waiting,’ said Thatcher. ‘Shahid has planned this perfectly so far. He must have something in mind.’

‘I just wish he’d let us know what,’ said Gillard.

Talpur moved his head to the left, trying to look out of the door but there were too many people blocking his view.

‘What’s happening?’ said the woman in front of him.

‘I don’t know,’ said the man sitting next to her.

Talpur craned his neck to look out of the front windscreen but all he could see was the wall of the hangar. Why weren’t they getting off the bus? Why wasn’t anything happening?

‘Driver!’ he shouted. ‘Can you see what’s happening out there?’

The driver didn’t react but several people in front of Talpur turned to him.

‘Driver, can you see anything?’ shouted Talpur, standing up.

‘Shut up, man,’ hissed Ahmed. ‘You’ll get us killed.’

‘We need to know what’s happening,’ said Talpur. ‘The prisoners have been released, we’re at the airport, so why aren’t they releasing us? Shahid said we’d be released.’

‘He also said that if we deviated from his instructions, we’d all die.’

‘Brother, we know that only Shahid can detonate these vests. And if we’re sitting in this coach, he can’t see us. The windows are blacked out.’

Another of the Asians turned. ‘Just sit down and shut up.’

‘You want to sit here like sheep and wait to see if Shahid will allow us to live or die?’ Talpur took a step towards the driver. ‘Driver, what’s happening out there?’

The driver twisted in his seat. ‘Sit the fuck down!’ he shouted at Talpur.

Talpur raised his hands and let the trigger lie in the flat of his right palm. ‘I’m not holding the trigger,’ he shouted. ‘I’m not going to press it. My hand is open. Look.’ He took another step forward and pulled the chain so that the woman slid across to his seat.

The driver’s eyes tightened. ‘Sit the fuck down or I swear I’ll shoot you in the head.’ He had a gun in his hands now and he was pointing it at Talpur’s face.

‘My name is Kashif Talpur and I work for the National Crime Agency. I’m a cop.’

‘Sit the fuck down now!’ shouted the driver, his finger tightening on the trigger.

‘You have to listen to me! We can’t detonate the vests. They can only be detonated by phone. You have to get them off us now!’

The Asian man sitting next to the priest stood up and screamed at Talpur, ‘You’re going to get us killed!’

The driver pointed the gun at the man. ‘You, sit the fuck down! Everyone, sit down, now!’

Talpur heard footsteps outside the coach. ‘Please, everyone, just keep calm!’ he shouted. ‘We can get out of this if we all stay calm.’

‘Go back to your seat now!’ shouted the driver.

‘No! You have to listen to me. No one here is going to press the trigger. The triggers don’t work.’

‘What’s happening in there?’ someone shouted from outside.

‘If we were going to detonate, we’d have done it already!’ shouted Talpur.

Two more Asians at the front of the bus got to their feet at the same time and began shouting. The driver took a step back, trying to cover the two of them with his gun by swinging it from side to side.

‘We’re not going to hurt you. Can’t you see that?’ yelled Talpur.

He heard a noise behind him. The emergency exit door opened and he caught a glimpse of two men in leather jackets with handguns.

‘Don’t shoot!’ shouted Talpur. ‘I’m a cop! I’m a fucking cop!’

There were more sounds at the front of the bus, dull thuds. He whirled around and saw another man with a gun at the door, next to the driver.

‘Listen to me!’ shouted Talpur. ‘I’m a police officer. No one here can detonate their vest. They are remotely controlled. We are not a threat. I repeat, we are not a threat!’

‘What’s going on? Who told the SAS to go in?’ said Gillard. He turned to Murray. ‘What’s happening?’

‘I’ve no idea,’ said Murray, staring up at the large screen showing the feed from the Biggin Hill hangar. SAS troopers were at the back of the coach and the front. Two of the SAS men had gone inside, Jim Hawkins leading the way.

‘Were shots fired?’ asked Kamran. The feed was silent so he had no idea whether the troopers had used their weapons or not.

‘I don’t think so,’ said Murray.

‘They’ve opened the rear door,’ said Gillard. ‘What the hell is happening?’

Kamran frowned at the screen as the seconds ticked off. It didn’t make any sense. If the vests were going to detonate, what was taking so long? Were they trying to lure the SAS in so that they would be caught in the blast?

‘They shouldn’t have gone in without negotiating first,’ said Gillard.

‘Something must have happened,’ said Murray.

‘Then do us all a favour and find out what,’ said Gillard.

Jim Hawkins kept his MP5 trained on the face of the man standing in the aisle. His finger was tense on the trigger and the slightest increase in pressure would put a slug virtually instantaneously into the man’s skull. ‘Drop the trigger,’ he said.

‘I can’t,’ said the man. ‘It’s held in place with the Velcro strap. I couldn’t drop it if I wanted to.’

‘What do you want?’ asked Hawkins.

‘I want off this fucking coach,’ said the man. ‘We all do. Listen to me, I’m a cop. My name is Kashif Talpur. We are all here under duress. We can’t detonate these vests. They can only be detonated by remote control. You need to get them off us.’

Hawkins frowned. He looked over at McMullen. ‘What do you think, Terry?’

‘I think if they were going to detonate, they already would have.’

‘He’s telling the truth,’ said the Asian man standing by the priest. ‘This is not our doing.’

All the men wearing the vests began to talk at once, proclaiming their innocence and pleading to be allowed off the coach.

‘Shut the fuck up!’ shouted Hawkins. ‘Sit down, shut up, and put your hands on your heads.’

Captain Murray put down his mobile phone. ‘The terrorists have surrendered,’ he said. ‘They’re saying they acted under duress.’

‘Duress? How?’

‘They’re claiming that the vests can only be detonated by remote control. The triggers don’t work.’

‘Then we need to get the vests off them immediately,’ said Gillard. He looked up at the screen showing the feed from the hangar. The SAS men were taking the bombers and hostages off the bus. One of the troopers had a pair of bolt-cutters and was using it to sever the chains. ‘Alex, get the hostages and bombers separated straight away. The bombers can be kept in the hangar but our men can take care of the hostages right now.’ He nodded at Kamran. ‘Mo, can you talk to Silver and make that happen? And get him to send in bomb disposal to sort the vests out.’