LATENT HAZARD: On the Edge

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LATENT HAZARD: On the Edge Page 16

by Piers Venmore-Rowland


  ‘And third, pigs might fly,’ added John.

  ‘No, thirdly we’ve got to break this appalling news to our bosses - and soon.’ Kate stood up, looking pale and drawn. ‘Aidan, thanks for your excellent work.’

  Rafi had been thinking quietly about the practicalities of getting the Government and the Bank of England to move quickly. ‘One last item, please? Devising a strategy to avert the financial chaos will take time, and time is a commodity we don’t have! I’d like to suggest, at our meeting with the chiefs, that we get permission to bring in a small team of financial experts, who could draw up a briefing document for the decision makers at the Treasury and Bank of England.’

  ‘Good idea,’ replied Kate.

  Jeremy returned, positively bouncing. ‘Who’s been clever boy? I’ve had a most fruitful time with Dominique, the manager at the travel agent. We looked at the typical characteristics of the tickets they bought. The vast majority were low-cost packages to locations throughout Africa and were mostly last minute bookings on flights which had unsold seats… The typical visit was between one and three months.’

  He smiled. ‘Then I got Dominique to see if there were any tickets which were out of the ordinary. She wasn’t impressed, as there were thousands of them. Specifically, she went searching for business class and full cost tickets, and trips where there were prearranged stopovers. My logic was that if they were recruiting bombers they’d look after them and want them to go to a training camp as well as do their voluntary work.’

  Jeremy smiled. ‘We have ten. Yes, ten individuals who were given favoured treatment by Basel and Jameel’s charity. And guess what? One of the names that came out of the computer was that of a Ima Adwafeeq or, if one puts the space in the right place, Imaad Wafeeq, the Bishopsgate bomber! I’ve passed all the names to my colleagues, who will send through as much information as they can find on each of them. As we speak all the suspects are being traced and will be put under surveillance.’

  Jeremy beamed, after a ripple of applause. ‘The offer of coffee and doughnuts did the trick. Within half an hour she’d gone back three years and identified all the people who fitted our search criteria. There were literally hundreds of flights that matched. In a tick she had them sorted alphabetically. The number of different names on the list wasn’t that great – just below fifty – but only ten had a pre-booked stopover in Somalia. When I pointed out Imaad Wafeeq’s name, she went white. She thought I was there to prove she was involved. It took me five minutes to calm her down and to emphasise the importance of keeping what we had found totally confidential.’

  ‘As a matter of curiosity, where exactly were the stopovers in Somalia?’ enquired Emma.

  ‘Mogadishu,’ replied Jeremy.

  ‘Hold on a minute - where was it that the other PhD student, Miti someone, came from?’

  ‘What a good memory you’ve got,’ said Jeremy. ‘You are spot on. Miti Lakhani’s family have a business operation in Mogadishu. I wish I had remembered that before you did,’ he said with a smile in Emma’s direction.

  Colonel Matlik was punctual. At 5.15 p.m. Kate’s phone rang. She was pleased to hear his telltale accent on the line.

  ‘Good evening, I have more news for you,’ he said, in his customary laconic manner. ‘I received the names and photos you emailed me. You have caused quite a stir. We looked at the mugshots and straight away identified three of them as being highly undesirable. I hope it’s OK – I bounced their details on to the FSB, the Russian Secret Service. The phone lines between here and Moscow have been red-hot. It seems that four of them are on their most wanted list! They are using false identities. In reality, they are: Rudnik Miromov and Dakka Dudayev, two former Chechen army officers. The Russians lost track of them ten months ago. The other two are: Aslan Popovskaya and Sergy Kowshaya, whose last known occupation was as part of a specialist Chechen hit squad – they also disappeared. Be advised: all four individuals should be treated with extreme caution. They have no scruples and are trained in everything from unarmed combat and heavy machine guns, to missile launchers and high explosives. In the words of my Russian friends these four are “wermin” – the sooner they can be exterminated, the better! Kornet missiles in their hands are a recipe for disaster.’

  ‘I see,’ said Kate hesitantly.

  Kate, I must tell you, the next person on your list had the Russians rolling with laughter. He’s an Arab, from the Gulf originally. Kaleem Shah trained as an officer cadet at your army’s Sandhurst! No doubt your records will confirm this and where he went subsequently. They have him down, until a year ago, as being attached to an international news corps as their minder in the battle zones of the Middle East. We have nothing untoward on the other names you e-mailed me. I have asked a colleague to email you all the details we have on these undesirables. He is sending you copies of both the Russian files and our translation of them. I hope that they help. Sorry to sound like an overprotective father, but if the Russians say they’re real shits, tell your SAS to treat them with the utmost caution.’

  ‘Colonel, thank you,’ said Kate.

  ‘Unfortunately, I have some further information from the manager of the rifle ranges. It is not news you will want to hear. In addition to the Kornet missile launchers, he delivered four South African 60 mm Vektor mortars and eighty high-explosive shells. They’re compact and deadly. Their barrel length is only 650 mm, but they have a range of up to 2 km if the firer opts for a ballistic trajectory.’

  ‘Sorry?’ queried Kate.

  ‘The explosive round detonates in the air above the target,’ explained the colonel. ‘In the hands of a professional, the firing rate, is twenty shells a minute. If aimed straight at its target the range drops to half a kilometre and the shells can go through 500 mm of armour or over one metre of reinforced concrete. Basically, they are nasty little weapons – rather good at attacking soft targets, I would suggest.’

  ‘Such as?’

  ‘In ballistic trajectory mode, their blast radius is thirty metres. They would work a treat against,’ the colonel paused, ‘Fuel tanks – oil and gas storage plants in particular.’

  ‘That fits in with a couple of the targets we’ve identified,’ said Kate. ‘Your information is most timely and thank you for all the trouble you’ve taken.’

  ‘No problem; we Europeans have a duty to protect one another,’ came the reply. ‘Look after yourself.’

  ‘I’ll try to,’ replied Kate, ending the call.

  Kate raised her voice for all to hear. ‘Our worst fears have been confirmed. There are four Chechen mercenaries on the terrorists’ payroll.’ She picked up the phone again and dialled Neil Gunton, Jeremy’s boss. Normally she would have waited for Jeremy to liaise with his boss, but time was critical. She got through on the third ring.

  ‘Neil Gunton speaking,’ said a gravelly voice.

  ‘Good afternoon, Kate Adams here.’ She cut to the chase. ‘The names Jeremy sent you earlier from Immigration – how are you getting on?’

  ‘So far we haven’t managed to get much on them. Our analysts suggest that three, possibly four, of them are Chechen. However, we do have chapter and verse on Kaleem Shah. We trained him at Sandhurst. He’s been working in Lebanon and the Middle East as a journalist with a number of the international networks.’

  ‘At this end we’ve had a bit of luck,’ Kate replied. ‘I’m emailing you the information we’ve just received from David’s friend at the Estonian Security Service. Unfortunately, four are Chechens and are as bad as they could possibly get. And we’re advised that in addition to the Kornet missiles, they have four South African 60 mm Vector mortars.’

  ‘Oh, hell!’ came the reply.

  ‘We’re making good progress at this end identifying likely targets,’ said Kate. ‘And we may be able to eliminate a couple of targets.’

  ‘What do you mean by eliminating?’

  ‘Well, if the fifth Kornet missile launcher is on the terrorists’ fast getaway vessel… Then there will be eig
ht and not ten UK targets to find,’ said Kate.

  ‘What makes you think a missile launcher is destined for their getaway boat?’ asked Neil.

  ‘The terrorists have had a large cool box installed, and it is the right size to house the boxes containing the missile launcher and its missiles… We think we know the location of five of the targets, so we reckon we’re probably only missing three.’

  Kate paused, then went on, ‘An alternative view could be that the fifth Kornet launcher is with the Arab, Kaleem Shah, and that he also has two targets. If so we are five targets short… We have a briefing meeting with the commissioner at 6 p.m. You would be welcome to attend.’

  ‘Thank you,’ said Neil. ‘Jeremy is keeping me well posted. You’ve pulled more out of the woodwork in the past twenty-four hours than we’ve been able to over the past two months! I’ve got a meeting with my boss too,’ there was an ominous pause. ‘Oh my God! I see what you mean. I’ve just decrypted your email attachments. These Chechens are mean buggers. I’ll speak to the boss immediately and ask that he puts the whole section on standby.’

  ‘Sir,’ said Kate in a diplomatic tone, ‘the work that you and John’s team have been doing points to the terrorists having many people in high places. I understand your list is still growing and includes a special adviser to Number 10, several Members of Parliament and a number of other very well-connected individuals. Should we be worrying about whether any of these people are moles or sleepers?’

  ‘Yes, we should.’

  ‘Well, sir,’ said Kate, hesitating briefly, ‘Our concern is that if the terrorists were to find out through one of these people that we are on to them, they will move to a plan “B” and change their targets, leaving us totally in the dark. With the Kornet missile launchers they can have a shot at practically any target they like…’

  ‘You’re right, Kate, it’s a very tricky situation. The potential damage that one of these missile launchers can do in the hands of a professional is unthinkable. Your reading of the position is very similar to ours,’ said Neil. ‘MI5 agree that it would be better to go after the terrorists at known targets rather than let them slip away and blow the ruddy daylights out of a series of other targets when the whim takes them.’

  ‘Thank you, sir,’ said Kate.

  ‘What’s your latest thinking regarding when the attacks will come?’ asked Neil.

  ‘Tomorrow between dawn and the London Stock Market’s opening at 8 o’clock. They’ll want as much news exposure as possible to undermine the financial markets, so that they can maximise the huge profits on their derivatives positions. Has Jeremy chatted to you about this?’

  ‘Yes, thank you,’ answered Neil. ‘I have to dash, we’ll talk again soon.’

  Rafi looked across at Kate. He sensed that she felt pleased with her team’s progress, but was shocked by the horrendous possibilities that were opening up in front of her. He looked across at the clock; it was 5.18 p.m. There was less than an hour to go before the evening meeting with the commissioner and the chief superintendent. They were still missing the extra pieces of property information and he was pinning his hopes on Manchester police unearthing something. However, he was worried that they wouldn’t have enough time.

  Rafi felt out of sorts and irritable. Something he couldn’t put his finger on was missing. He stood up and walked around the office. His tired head ached and he was finding it increasingly difficult to concentrate on anything for more than a few minutes at a time. Bloody hell, he needed to get his act together. It was only late afternoon, but it felt like midnight. He walked over and poured himself a cup of black coffee. Back at his desk, he sipped the hot coffee, studied the valuation report again and picked up the last three sets of accounts for PREH, the terrorists’ property investment company.

  He turned to the most recent balance sheet and looked at the property assets figure. Oh shit! Why the hell hadn’t he noticed this earlier? The figure in the accounts was greater than the total set out in the Dewoodson valuation report. Bloody hell! There was £7.4 million unaccounted for! His mind was like a car without synchromesh. He struggled to think of a reason why it might be different. Of course! Development properties could be held in the accounts at cost - and they wouldn’t necessarily be included in the valuation report. Rafi stopped and thought. So somewhere there had to be details of the missing developments -probably a letter from the valuer which simply stated that the developments had a value greater than their book cost. £7.4 million wasn’t large, but it could conceal one or more key properties. ‘Oh yes!’ he exclaimed.

  Kate looked across at him.

  ‘That devious little bugger Wesson is still hampering our investigations.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ asked Kate.

  ‘We’re missing a letter which sets out PREH’s development properties. See if Rick can get Wesson to talk and get him to do a search for the word development on all their computers.’

  John called across the room. ‘Want an update from MI5?’ It was a rhetorical question. ‘It seems that the journalist Kaleem Shah is running a group of suicide bombers. The good news is that they have traced and have under surveillance five of the suspected suicide bombers who received their training in Africa. These are the ones identified by Jeremy at the travel agency he visited.’

  ‘I just hope that they find the rest of the possible suicide bombers – and soon,’ added Kate. Her phone rang; it was Beverley, the commissioner’s personal assistant. ‘Oh dear, yes of course,’ replied Kate. She turned to Emma. ‘Could you and Aidan tidy up the papers strewn around the commissioner’s conference room, please? He’s back and would like to use it!’

  Rafi sat there thinking. What else might he have missed? He dozed off.

  At 5.55 p.m. Kate lightly shook him but he remained out for the count. She paused wondering which bit was safest to shake a little harder. She softly tapped his leg.

  Rafi woke suddenly. ‘Ooouch!’ he exclaimed.

  ‘Don’t tell me you’ve got a bruise there as well!’ said Kate. ‘Sorry, but I’m running out of options as to what’s not damaged.’

  ‘No problem! Was I asleep long?’ Rafi sat up to find everyone was looking at him. ‘Sleep has been a bit scarce…’

  ‘Time to see the boss,’ said Kate.

  This was going to be make or break, thought Rafi, as he followed the team up the back stairs to the commissioner’s conference room. He was worried, key pieces of the terrorists’ plans were still missing. He arrived in the boardroom still wrapped up in his own world, but was brought back to reality by a gentle touch on his shoulder.

  ‘Are you OK?’ enquired Kate.

  Rafi sensed that a bond had started to form between them. He turned and looked straight into her warm eyes, not two feet away. He hadn’t really had the opportunity to look at her face close up - it was her eyes that captivated him.

  ‘A… apologies,’ Rafi stuttered, ‘I was miles away - again. It’s just that the terrorists have been very careful to cover their tracks and plan to attack in several places at once. I keep worrying that I’ve missed something and it turns out to be costly.’

  Close up, Kate’s smile and her twinkling eyes had a disarming effect. Rafi wasn’t accustomed to such closeness; he moved back a pace to give himself a bit of breathing space and stepped straight into the path of the commissioner, who had entered the room at some speed, aware no doubt that he and David were running two minutes late.

  ‘Sorry sir.’ Rafi noticed that he’d scuffed the commissioner’s gleaming shoes.

  ‘No harm done,’ came the reply, ‘Let’s get started!’

  Rafi turned and looked at Kate whose smile was bordering on a chuckle. She looked at him, and whispered, ‘Whoops!’

  Kate and Rafi sat opposite each other. The commissioner looked around the boardroom table. ‘How are you progressing? As we agreed at our last meeting, this is crunch time. We will have to inform our political masters sooner rather than later. Kate, please update us.’

&n
bsp; Kate looked at the faces around the table. They looked haggard. She just hoped she could do herself justice and convey the gravity of the position to the commissioner. The chips were down and she didn’t like what she was going to report.

  ‘Sir, let me summarise the position. Many things have happened since our recent phone conversation. We firmly believe that the missile attacks will come in the first couple of hours of daylight tomorrow morning. Through David’s Estonian contact, Colonel Matlik, we have confirmation that the terrorists have five Kornet anti-tank missile launchers and three or four missiles per launcher. As you know, these missiles are lethal pieces of equipment. In addition, we now find that they also have four South African 60 mm Vektor mortars and eighty high-explosive shells.’

  Kate paused. ‘We’ve narrowed down the potential targets and I’ll come back to them in a minute.’ The commissioner nodded.

  ‘Following helpful discussions with the Immigration Office, we have identified two fast track and legitimate ways of getting UK visas, which the terrorists have used to get five people into the UK. Colonel Matlik and his contacts in Moscow have identified four as being former Chechen militia. We have been advised to treat Messrs Miromov, Dudayev, Popovskaya and Kowshaya with extreme caution. We are told that their training and experience is such that they’ll give the SAS a run for their money. The fifth person, a journalist called Kaleem Shah, is ex-Sandhurst and has experience of war zones in the Middle East and urban warfare.’

  Kate paused again. ‘We believe that each Chechen mercenary has a Kornet missile launcher, a Vektor mortar and two targets. Jeremy has been chatting to a senior contact in the SAS, who advises that they are likely to be operating as individuals. As far as the fifth missile launcher is concerned, we think it is for their high speed getaway vessel, Golden Sundancer. She is in the North Atlantic, heading, we believe, for a rendezvous point off the north Scottish coast tomorrow evening.’

 

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