by Ted Tayler
Rusty and his men headed for the M4 in an unmarked car within thirty minutes. A team of paramedics followed behind at a more sedate pace in the ambulance. Erebus wanted a means of bringing the bombers back to Larcombe alive if possible. He had to consider a further scenario. If Olympus suffered casualties he wanted them returned to Larcombe for treatment or burial. No one would be left behind on this mission.
In Belgravia, Colin watched as another taxi arrived to collect Athena and her parents. They had a fifteen-minute journey to make to Harley Street. He could make it there on foot in thirty-five minutes if he pushed it. His mobile phone vibrated in his pocket.
“Who the heck is that?” he wondered. There was no ID on the caller.
“Yes?” he asked.
“Morning Phoenix, it’s me, Rusty. The shit’s hit the fan mate. Get over to Oxford Circus tube station for twelve o’clock. No funny cracks mate but we’ll meet you outside Top Shop on Oxford Street. I’ll fill you in then.
“Okay, Rusty,” replied Colin. “Athena and her parents will be on their way home to Belgravia by then I guess. It’ll take me less than ten minutes to get to you from Harley Street. See you later mate.”
In fact, Irfan, Arshad, and Karim were already on Oxford Street.
The students had left Milton Keynes at just after eight o’clock. First, there was a thirty-five-minute journey to Euston. When they arrived there, they mingled with others on the station who didn’t seem to be in a rush to get somewhere. Time was on their side. Three young men dressed in casual western clothes; blue jeans, trainers, and the ubiquitous hoodie. Even the rucksacks slung on their backs didn’t attract that much attention. They drifted towards the tube line for their next stop, Victoria.
The same pattern followed. A casual stroll around the old station visiting several of the shops, just browsing. When Irfan showed it was time to move on they made their way onwards via Warren Street to Oxford Circus. There was plenty to see there too and hundreds of people with whom to share the experience.
When Colin ended his phone call with Rusty the three young men were leaving the station and wandering along Oxford Street West. Colin continued to make his way to Harley Street to keep watch. He couldn’t help being distracted by thoughts of what lay ahead of him this afternoon.
CHAPTER 20
Erebus was pacing up and down in the drawing-room, impatient and nervous in equal measure. He had nine well-trained men on their way to Oxford Circus station. His paramedics were travelling there too as a backup; what else could he do? Could they prevent a tragedy or was it possible his people might get caught up in the suicide attack? His mind was in turmoil. Had he made the right decision?
Thanatos watched his boss and reflected on the past couple of hours. Suddenly he thumped the table with his fist. Erebus stopped pacing and turned towards him.
“What is it Thanatos?” he asked.
“I think we’ve missed something,” Thanatos replied, “the message from Pakistan threw us off the scent.”
“Go on,” said Erebus, sitting back at the table.
“Well, look at it; it reads ‘Meet at Oxford Circus. Today at 1.30 pm.’ The bombers are travelling together, so they won’t ‘meet’ each other, will they? That message arrived early this morning from Pakistan, so if a fourth person was meeting them, they couldn’t get there in time for lunchtime today. The logical answer is that the fourth person arrived earlier. The Olympus surveillance section needs to track the details of traffic between the UK and the Pakistani link over the past twenty-four hours. We have to find the outgoing version of the message. It may be coded or in a cryptic form.”
Erebus nodded towards Alastor. He left the room straight away to start the hunt.
“When they were watching the maisonette in Milton Keynes there were several youngsters seen coming and going,” said Erebus. “We need their details, and any photographs we have of them. We must get this information to Rusty’s team and the guys travelling in from MK as soon as possible. Time is short.”
Thanatos continued to outline his idea.
“The next thing we need to consider is what role any additional players fulfil on this mission? We know the young men contacted at the property were the bomb carriers. It’s logical to assume the fourth man will detonate the bombs from a remote location. What the bombers are carrying, no doubt in rucksacks on their backs, is an improvised explosive device, with nuts and bolts. They will have used a cheap cell phone, electrical wire, a fuse, batteries, electrical tape and a solid-state semiconductor device. This last piece lets you wire into the cell phone speaker. The speakerphone has more power going to it and is more commonly used when putting together an IED such as this. When the phone is called, it activates the ringer which connects those two components and kicks off the signal to detonate the explosive. This fourth person could be a short distance away, but if I’m right he or she plans to be at Oxford Circus station. It is such a busy thoroughfare, and it has loads of potential exits. My guess is they mean to wait until the bomb carriers are at the ideal points to cause the maximum damage, spread across the site. The bombs will trigger at the same time. It will be carnage.”
The others listened in silence to Thanatos and his grim predictions of the scenario unfolding one hundred miles away in London. Alastor had returned to the meeting and heard his colleague’s gloomy prediction.
“Are we able to shut down the cell service in the vicinity?” he asked.
Erebus shook his head. “Not practical old chap.”
“Why can’t we use those jamming devices you used in the military? They might, at least, disrupt the signal to one or two of the phones and lessen the effects,” posed Minos.
“We haven’t got time to mobilise them,” said Thanatos. “If we had rumbled the true meaning of the message earlier we could have maybe used the lightweight signal jammers we have in stores. But they only have a top range of fifteen metres. Fine for our guys masking mobile traffic out in the field back to us here at HQ, but in this scenario the agents have to be too up close and personal for their own safety.”
“Hindsight is a wonderful thing,” said Erebus. “We must concentrate our attention on finding the bombers and the other possible players. Then we need to isolate them and neutralise their effectiveness before we reach zero hours. Get me photos and identities of the group of people who used the maisonette in MK now. Get the surveillance boys to hack into the CCTV cameras on Oxford Street. I need to find out where these people are so we can inform the teams on site.”
There was a knock on the door. It was one of the surveillance team.
“Perfect timing,” said Erebus. “What have you got for us?”
“We’ve found the outgoing message sir; it was too nondescript to get picked up at first. It was sent from Leicester on Wednesday and read ‘Tell them we are fine for a late lunch tomorrow as planned’.”
Erebus told Alastor to go back to the ice-house with the operator and hunt for the data he required. He turned to Thanatos and Minos.
“I wish Athena was here. She’s in Harley Street as we speak, but I’d be happier knowing Phoenix was watching over her. He’ll be abandoning that duty and moving across to help Rusty and the team.”
Thanatos had expected as much; the boss had always been protective of his second in command. He had thought in depth about the outgoing message and its implications.
“That message confirms my suspicions,” he said with a sigh, “the other members of the cell will be in the station too. The sooner we learn what they look like and find them the better. The odds are stacked against us, but while we still have a chance, then we must stay hopeful.”
Minos asked whether they should tip off the TFL authorities so they could evacuate the station. Erebus wasn’t happy about that course of action as it risked showing their hand and keeping the Olympus Project under the radar had to be paramount. They discussed the pros and cons of the situation and anguished over them while they waited for news.
Alastor returne
d to the drawing-room with a folder and a brief smile.
“The people we had watching the maisonette were thorough. We have excellent photos of five young people. They have been identified as follows:
- Irfan Baqri, 20, student; born and raised in Birmingham
- Karim Rivzi, 20, student; born and raised in Nottingham
- Arshad Usman, 19, student; born and raised in Leicester
- Habeeb Rehman, 20, student; born and raised in London
- Zunairah Jaffri, 18, student; born and raised in London
These five students have visited Pakistan in the past eighteen months. The first three stick to Western clothes and attend a college in MK doing various foundation courses. The last two travel into MK from London on a Monday morning and return to the city on Friday afternoon. They too go to college, wear traditional costume and appear to lodge with family members during the week.”
“Excellent, get these photos and details to Rusty and Brad, the squad leaders in London now. Are the surveillance team any further forward with the CCTV yet? We have five young terrorists to find gentlemen and one of them is a girl.”
Colin was no longer outside the consulting-rooms of Dr Ramanayake. He was on Oxford Street heading for Top Shop. He didn’t see Athena and her parents emerge from the building. The cardiologist had informed them that Mrs Fox was in urgent need of a bypass operation. Tinkering with her diet and prescribing medicines was futile. Two of her arteries were so damaged that she risks suffering an ischemic stroke at any time.
The family was stunned, but Athena’s father didn’t blink. He asked Dr Ramanayake “How much?”
The consultant made a call and by just after midday, an ambulance car arrived to take Mrs Fox to a private hospital in the West End. Her husband accompanied her.
Athena agreed to go home to fetch her mother’s things for a stay in the hospital. She wanted to add personal touches of her own. She left the consulting rooms at around ten past twelve.
Colin spotted Rusty on the pavement outside Top Shop. He stuck out a mile. Anyone less likely to shop there Colin couldn’t imagine. As the two men greeted one another, Colin recognised two other familiar faces from Larcombe standing ten yards away. He nodded at them.
“Fill me in Rusty. What have we got, mate?”
“Suicide bombers, it’s a group of three blokes at least. They’re hitting the station at half-past one.”
“What’s the plan?”
“A squad raided their place in Milton Keynes this morning, but they missed them. They’ve followed them into the city and should be here any time now.”
“How many of them are there?”
“Five, giving us nine altogether.”
“How are we going to take them out of the frame?”
“I reckon we can Taser them if we can catch them unawares; one man in front to ask for the time or directions and one behind to nullify any threat. Then we use the cars we travelled up in to get them well away from these crowds. Erebus has sent the paramedics up as a back-up. So, once we discover where they parked we can deliver any of these lads that cause us extra trouble to them. They will remove them to Larcombe afterwards.”
“The pet cemetery will be busy.”
“Let’s get somewhere quiet for a minute. I need to give you your kit. I know you weren’t carrying when you came up for this babysitting job. Have they got a toilet in this shop?”
In two minutes Colin and Rusty stood in the gents’ toilet on the basement floor. Rusty passed Colin a Taser and then handed him the PSS pistol.
“I brought this along, mate. I know you liked it.”
“Thanks, it’s quiet, but if I have to use it, we might have a job explaining to the transport police why we’re carrying a lad with a big hole in his head.”
When they got back out onto the street, the two guys from Rusty’s team joined them.
“The MK squad are here. Three agents this side of the street and two outside Next on the opposite side of the road. The squad leader is on this side; he wants to talk to you.”
Rusty wandered up the street. Despite the civilian clothes, it wasn’t too difficult for the two ex-SAS men to work out who each other was. They shook hands and worked out their plan of attack. A minute later Rusty and Brad received a call from Larcombe.
It was Erebus.
“I’m sending you details of the five terrorists.”
Rusty didn’t react; a slight tensing of his jawline perhaps, but nothing more.
“There are three bombers. They are wearing Western clothing and carrying backpacks. The other two, a man and a girl, are likely to arrive at the station by Tube. They will be in traditional clothes, a thobe for him and an abaya for her. She will have her head covered with a niqab. One or other of these two will detonate the bombs using a mobile phone. Our best intelligence suggests that the three bombers will enter the station over the next hour. They will plan to reach one of the many busy intersections at one-thirty. The other two may be positioned so they can see their fellow cell members. They will then call the numbers at the precise time to cause the greatest loss of life.”
“Okay boss,” said Rusty. “Do you have eyes on the three bombers above ground?”
“Still waiting for news. Sadly, we have plenty of cameras from which to choose.”
“I’ll pass the details of the three bombers to our teams and they can take them out of the picture.”
“Good hunting,” said Erebus and ended the call.
Rusty and Brad changed their plans, now they had the new information. Brad split his team into two groups of two and briefed them on their roles. Rusty gave his two men their instructions too. Rusty, Colin, and Brad made up the team responsible for tackling the underground threat.
Athena had collected a bag with her mother’s things from home. She was now setting off to hunt for those personal items she wanted to collect; before heading to the West End to visit her Mum in the hospital. She was walking to Sloane Square tube station for a District line train that after a brief change over at Victoria that got her to Oxford Circus.
Rusty, Colin, and Brad were preparing to go to the station. Brad checked with Team 1 who had been assigned to Irfan Baqri. No sighting.
Brad got the same report from Team 2 who had been searching for Karim Rivzi. At the same time, Rusty contacted Team 3. No sign of Arshad Usman.
Rusty’s mobile rang again. It was Larcombe.
“The three bombers are on the move. We have them on CCTV; they have just come out of Primark near Marble Arch. They’ll be with you in fifteen to twenty minutes.
Rusty rang the paramedics, who sat in the ambulance in 24 7 Parking around five minutes away. The ambulance crew was primed and ready to move at a second’s notice.
Irfan, Karim, and Arshad had separated. Irfan had crossed the street and the other two followed ten to fifteen yards behind him. As they approached Oxford Circus itself Karim moved ahead of Arshad. They were well-schooled in how to enter their kill zone with little or no attention. As far as any staff or transport police at the station was concerned, they looked like your typical student. Casually dressed, not in any hurry to get where they were going. Looking moody. No different to millions of other teenagers around the world.
The ambulance containing the paramedics eased into position. Two men sat in the front and two in the back. The busy streets of London are so used to seeing emergency vehicles that no one took any notice. If there had been a young policeman patrolling his beat, he would have passed by without a look. As usual, there were no policemen in sight.
Team 1 struck first. Irfan saw the entrance to the station and steeled himself to walk towards his destiny with his head held high. A man appeared in front of him and Irfan almost collided with him.
“Watch where you’re going mate,” said the ex-SAS agent. Irfan tried to sidestep him but suddenly he felt something pressed against the back of his neck. The Taser delivered an electrical current that interfered with Irfan's neuromuscular system, incapacitating
him. Or to put it the way Rusty had described it when he had trained his men at Larcombe ‘they collapse like a sack of shit, but they’re fine again in no time.’
The back doors of the ambulance opened, and the paramedics helped Irfan into the vehicle. The doors closed, and the ambulance moved further up the street. In the ambulance, Irfan’s arms and legs were being secured, his mouth taped, and the backpack removed.
Karim and Arshad should have made up the distance between themselves and Irfan and seen what was happening; even with them having to cross the busy street. But Teams 2 and 3 had neutralised them in much the same manner and they both lay stunned on the pavement. The driver and his mate left the ambulance and helped the agents get the two terrorists into the back. Karim and Arshad were dealt with like Irfan, trussed up like a turkey for Christmas dinner. Three bombers were now out of the game.
The teams reported their progress to Rusty and Brad and the ambulance headed as far away from the crowds in Oxford Street as possible. Those bombs needed to be made safe before half-past one. One advantage of having so many skills at your disposal when working for an outfit such as Olympus was that ingenious solutions for tricky problems were commonplace.
The ambulance carried the usual medical paraphernalia you would expect. On one wall though there was now a microwave oven sealed with metres of metal tape on the edges to create a Faraday cage as near as made no difference. The cell phones had been removed from the backpack bombs and wrapped in aluminium foil, cutting off communication. When the terrorists called their target phones and expected to detonate the bombs, their call would not be received. If the science bit worked.
The three men underground had spread out and been covering as much of the upper levels of the station as possible. They were on the alert for the remaining two terrorists. Three pairs of eyes trained towards the passageway where incoming passengers emerged.
