He smiled and looked into her lovely blue eyes… ‘Don’t worry, your luck will turn when you least expect it.’
‘Thank you,’ replied SJ.
‘I am serious,’ added Rafi. ‘A week ago I was on my own and then through the most bizarre circumstances I met Detective Inspector Kate Adams… You have everything going for you… the right man will come in to your life.’
SJ looked carefully at Rafi. In the space of a few minutes he had turned the tables on her. He was now making her feel uncomfortable… That Kate Adams was a very fortunate woman… It would be nice to swap places with her. ‘How precisely did you meet Kate?’ asked SJ.
‘I was in the cells at Paddington Green police station and she came to interview me…
‘So you reckon I should get myself locked up… I’m not certain if I’d have a job to go come back to though!’
Rafi laughed. ‘The mind boggles… The prospect of you ending up in prison is difficult to picture. I’d opt for something far less extreme. Like Kate you are on the side of the good, so you won’t have to go looking for trouble.’
‘But it might be fun,’ said SJ with a disarming grin. ‘Perhaps when this is all over, you and Kate could give me some pointers?’ Before Rafi had a chance to reply, she looked at her watch. ‘You should be elsewhere… It’s time for you to pay COBRA a visit.’
Rafi finished his coffee. ‘I’m ready when you are.’ He hesitated, and not knowing where the thought came from, blurted out, ‘It seems to me that you and Kate are very alike… under the surface that is.’ He fell silent, suddenly feeling embarrassed to go any further with his line of thinking.
SJ felt a strange feeling come across her. So he really did like her… with a bit of planning on her part she would arrange for their paths to cross again. She stood up. ‘Come on, you really should be elsewhere.’
A few minutes later they arrived at the door to the COBRA meeting room. As Rafi walked in he sensed a new feel to the room. The urgency and horror of the day before had given way to a businesslike atmosphere. Inside the door was a face he’d got to know very well over the past few days. Jeremy greeted him warmly and they fell into conversation.
SJ smiled and glanced at her watch. ‘I’ll come and get you in seventy minutes,’ she turned and left.
Jeremy looked at Rafi. ‘Where would you like me to start in bringing you up to date?’
‘Golden Sundancer and the trawlers, please.’
‘It’s all go at sea and in the air there are two Nimrods tracking them. The Great Yarmouth trawler left port at 16.00 hours on Friday and, as you know, turned south. She entered the Straights of Dover around 22.30 yesterday and is currently heading towards the Lizard Point off Cornwall. On board is Dakka Dudayev, the Stratford bomber; a real hard case.
‘I’d say so!’
‘The trawler from Peterhead offloaded Rudnik Miromov, the Cruden Bay terrorist, onto Golden Sundancer north-west of the Pentland Firth at 5 p.m. yesterday evening. Golden Sundancer then headed at speed around the Western Isles. The Troon trawler rendezvoused with her at 03.00 south-west of Stanton Banks where she picked up Talal’s number two, Alistair Hartnell, and the recruiter of the suicide bombers, Kim Chindriani. Since then Golden Sundancer has been flying down the west coast of Ireland at a very impressive 40-46 knots. She’s currently just west of Bantry Bay. Our calculations point to the Great Yarmouth trawler, Rosemarie, and Golden Sundancer rendezvousing at 19.00 hours this evening south-west of the Isles of Scilly. From there, we believe that they’ll head for Morocco and the port of Safi.’
‘What’s Maryam up to?’
‘She’s carrying on as usual in Luxembourg, playing at being a real socialite. Wining and dining seem to be her middle names. The commissioner is arranging a visit to Luxembourg to tie in with the capture of the other terrorists on Monday afternoon,’ Jeremy drew breath and pointed to the screens around the room. ‘On the home front, the army’s pyrotechnics continue to be impressive: there’s still a good mix of dark smoke, explosions and flames from Cruden Bay, Aldermaston, Hartlepool and Heysham. Even though numerous announcements have been made that no radioactivity has been released and the terrorists missed their nuclear targets, the TV crews love it. I feel sorry for the local residents, but at least it’s in a good cause.’
‘How’s it progressing at Stratford?’ asked Rafi.
‘Basically, it is a huge mess and it is still taking up masses of resources. Thankfully, Operation Counterpane has got most people away from the exclusion zone relatively quickly. The genius part was getting others to look after them. It’s worked magically. The reaction of the provincial cities, and in particular the rural communities, has been beyond anyone’s expectations. Trains have been running constantly from the London terminals since Friday morning, transporting the refugees to their destinations. Fleets of coaches have poured into London from across the country, with offers of accommodation and homes for those who got on board. The major retailers have been brilliant. In some instances people have been getting on their coaches with a blanket, a duvet or just a towel or coat around them. En route to their destination, stop-offs to department stores have been arranged to fully clothe and re-equip the travellers. The Dunkirk spirit has been unbelievable. Only a small minority of those dispossessed have caused trouble; the vast, vast majority have been grateful for the help and to be evacuated,’ said Jeremy.
‘What are the radiation levels like?’ Rafi enquired, concerned.
‘The experts got their initial calculations for the exclusion zone spot on. The Royal Engineers, with the help of specialist building contractors, have completed the demarcation and the clearing of the perimeter of the exclusion zone and I understand that plans are afoot for work to start tomorrow on the foundations for the perimeter wall. There have been attempts at looting and to get items that are now, of course, radioactive out of the exclusion zone, but the army patrols have been up to the task and have clamped down firmly on such activities. There are 3,000 battlehardened troops with experience of Iraq and Afghanistan policing the perimeter – next to nothing has got out.’
Jeremy paused. ‘The scientists have put in place plans to counter the problems of the leaching of the radioactive materials into the water table. Fingers crossed they’ll get it right, or else the City of London and Docklands will be in trouble.’
Jeremy chatted at length, detailing how the exclusion zone was being cleared of people and how the location of London City Airport was a godsend. ‘It must be a nightmare for the air traffic controllers, what with all the transport plane movements. Thankfully, only one pilot got the approach wrong and nearly ended up in the water!’
Jeremy hesitated. ‘Your interrogator, Andy, phoned me earlier today.’
Rafi involuntarily tensed up.
‘Nothing untoward,’ reassured Jeremy, sensing Rafi’s unease. ‘In his investigations he came across an individual with long standing links to your family.’Jeremy passed him a piece of paper with a name and phone number on it. ‘I think you might know him?’
Rafi looked in surprise at the name: Major Charlie Staveley. Then he smiled. ‘Yes, I remember him well. He was my maths teacher at Haileybury.’
‘Andy interviewed him about the money he paid first to your grandfather and then to your father. All he would say was, “It was a long time ago… Haileybury had strong connections with the Stepney Boys Club which assisted families in the East End of London – this was my way of helping.” Andy reckons that the major was hiding something. You might like to drop by and have a chat with him one of these days.’
‘Thanks,’ said Rafi, still completely puzzled, ‘I’ll do that.’
Their conversation returned to Stratford and the terrorists.
Out of the corner of his eye Rafi saw SJ enter the room and realised that his time with Jeremy was up.
Rafi felt a delicate tap on his shoulder, turned and saw her smiling face just behind him.
‘Time to come with me.’
Rafi nodded, s
aid his goodbyes to Jeremy and followed her up to the ground floor of Number 10 and the PM’s anteroom.
‘You must be beginning to get to know this room rather well,’ SJ commented.
‘Yes, I can recommend the service – it’s excellent,’ Rafi grinned. He seemed to have said the right thing. SJ nonchalantly preened her hair, turned with a little wiggle of her hips and left the room. A few minutes later she was back holding a tray with a cup of tea and some chocolate biscuits.
‘Thank you.’
She smiled. ‘I only try to please. The PM will be ready to see you soon.’
After only a few moments Rafi was shown by SJ into the adjoining room.
The PM got straight to the point. ‘Rafi, the head of the Civil Service has listened to your tape,’ he began and then paused. ‘He says that if I heard its contents I could not, with a clear conscience, deny knowledge of what went on, should it ever get out into the public domain. He confirms that it is political dynamite. It is clear that the Home Office and a number of its ministers took spin to an unprecedented level. Thank you for bringing this matter to our attention.’
Rafi nodded.
‘I have commissioned a report on “Media briefings and dissemination of information and data by ministers and public servants”. I have asked for proposals from the head of the Civil Service for a select committee to monitor this area. Henceforth, we have to make those who use lies, half-truths and false statistics as tools of their trade openly accountable,’ said the PM.
‘Thank you,’ replied Rafi.
‘I was saddened to learn we came within a whisker of averting the Stratford disaster, only to have people, who should have known better, get in the way. By the way, the junior minister in question has resigned his seat. I understand he’s going to try his hand at something well away from the public gaze.’
With that the meeting was over and Rafi was ushered into the entrance hall of Number 10 where he found Kate waiting for him.
‘Have you had a useful morning? I missed you. Your friend SJ,’ she said with a wink, ‘phoned. She asked if I could come and collect you. So here I am. There’s a car outside and if it’s OK with you, our next port of call is Wood Street.’
Rafi nodded; he was becoming accustomed to being at people’s beck and call.
‘We’re going to give John, Jeremy and the team a hand with the logistics for rounding up all those suspected of being on the terrorists’ payroll. Actually, that’s a bit of a white lie; they want me – and I rather like your company – hence the we!’ she said with a big grin. ‘I reckon I’ll get withdrawal symptoms when this is all over,’ she paused. ‘Will you come with me?’ asked Kate, slightly flummoxed by Rafi’s deadpan expression, and then added quickly, ‘don’t worry; if you don’t want to tag along I can easily drop you off at the hotel on the way.’
‘I’ll come… I’d love to. Sorry for being slow, it’s just that my thoughts were on what the PM has just told me.’
Rafi leant forward and gave Kate a kiss on the cheek. ‘Come on, we can’t keep the car waiting. Remember you promised me some TLC and I’m going to enjoy cashing it in… With interest!’
They had been in the Ops Room at Wood Street for less than five minutes when Jeremy appeared. ‘I thought I might update you. The list of highly paid non-executives on the terrorists’ payroll is quite something. Several of the names are dynamite. For example, we have identified sixMembers of Parliament who are implicated.’
Jeremy yawned. ‘Sorry… where was I? Yep, we’ve checked through the bank accounts of the two COBRA members caught with their snouts in the terrorists’ trough. It seems that they received their money from our old friend the Gulf Trade Bank. They’ve been very naïve and stupid. Thankfully, they weren’t sophisticated enough to use an offshore account. The bribes went straight into Building Society accounts. Those who have been using offshore accounts will be harder to pin down and no doubt they will be the ones really worth catching – c’est la guerre!’ He smiled and added, ‘John and his team have done great work; the fun bit is going to be hauling the culprits in.’
Jeremy paused. ‘The bosses at MI5 are gobsmacked by how much John and his team have turned up in such a short time. They have people working around the clock going through bank statements and corroborating the evidence. There’s a real buzz down there. One of these days I must show you around!’
‘Who do you think ran the UK end of the slush fund?’ Kate asked.
‘Maryam, we reckon, looked after the money side of things via bank accounts funded by the sheikh,’ answered Jeremy. ‘At the moment we aren’t sure who did the recruiting or the management of those on their payroll.’
‘When will the arrests take place?’ asked Rafi.
‘As soon as the terrorist leaders are in our custody,’ replied Jeremy. ‘Oh – by the way – you remember that a BlueKnite employee turned a blind eye and let the bomber in at Bishopsgate? Well, it also seems that the controller looking after the nuclear trains only joined a year ago and was also on their payroll. Last week he received £15,000 from the Gulf Trade Bank; big coincidence or what? No wonder he took so long to get back to the control room and employed such a half-wit to work with him.’
‘Thanks for the update; now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a few loose ends to tidy up.’ Kate smiled at Rafi and added, ‘Do make yourself at home!’
Rafi’s attention turned to the large screens on the walls. One showed a press conference, describing the full impact of the nuclear sabotage. It included a report on what had happened in the previous twenty-four hours and on the progress being made. All roads into the exclusion zone were now dead ends. The one-way – out only – system was being enforced rigidly at the army-controlled checkpoints.
Rafi felt a shiver go down his spine as he saw pictures, from the previous day, of masses of people corralled in one of the open air holding areas. The footage followed the process of decontamination; people being stripped of all their belongings and clothes, and taken to a purpose-built shower marquee, next to a prefabricated building. Large signs in many languages had on them: Radiation risk – NOTHING to be taken beyond here.
The TV cameras showed heart-rending footage of people arriving at the checkpoint and being forced to give up all their possessions. The pictures included those of a confused little girl being made to give up her favourite teddy – she was crying and couldn’t comprehend what was going on. The scene brought a tear to Rafi’s eye.
The report contained footage of mobile phones being handed out to each individual or family. The mobile phone companies had literally cleared their warehouses and the stocks in their shops. Free pay-as-you-go phones with credit vouchers for calls were issued to those coming out of the decontamination centres. Those with missing family members were given a phone number they could call to give information about the people they had lost. A number of local sports halls became rendezvous points for the missing people.
The TV commentator commended the Dunkirk spirit. The attitude wasn’t, ‘How much is this going to cost?’, but rather, ‘What can we do to help those who have lost everything?’ The newscaster then announced that there would be a public holiday on the Monday, as a mark of respect for the loss of life and the suffering.
Rafi watched a piece on how the National Health Service was holding up. All the hospitals within 200 miles of the disaster area were flooded with people. A number of five star hotels had been requisitioned and turned into specialist radiation treatment units. Those with radiation poisoning were being sent on to one of these new specialist hospitals, with instructions from on high that everything should be done to make them feel comfortable. Elsewhere patients were seen on trolleys and makeshift beds. Against the odds, the system was holding up.
The armed forces were stretched beyond anything anyone could ever have envisaged. By late Friday afternoon, 10,300 troops and specialist professionals had arrived to enforce the perimeter of the exclusion zone, to run the decontamination centres and to clear the
exclusion zone of people. All military bases remained on full alert.
The RSPCA worked with the armed forces and Territorial Army’s veterinary teams to deal humanely with those animals found in the exclusion zone. It was a gruesome and demanding task. The RSPCA gained permission to run their own decontamination units for mildly contaminated pets, where the owners could be identified.
Rafi was enthralled when the bulletin turned to the problems associated with the leaching of the radioactive materials into the water table. In particular, the River Lea and its canal were near to the wrecked train. An ingenious solution had come from a company based just south of Newcastle, which made a polymer for – amongst other things – nappies. It rapidly turned liquids into jelly like substance which would remain stable for over a month. They had dispatched eight lorry loads with a police escort and arrived in London late on Friday afternoon. Their cargo was applied to the water flowing in and around the exclusion zone. The main problem related to the River Lea. A decision had been taken to divert the Lea into the King George reservoir just to the north of the exclusion zone and from there the water was being pumped straight into the mains as, unfortunately, the large Coppermills water treatment plant, a mile to the south, through which the water normally passed, was now out of action.
According to the reporter, decisions were being taken on how the River Lea could be redirected on a permanent basis. He listed the few solutions which were being considered - including diverting it into the River Roding - and concluded that drinking water shortages would be a feature for months to come. However, the good news was that the critical problems were being resolved and there were high hopes that radioactive materials would not leach out of the exclusion zone.
Rafi spotted Colonel Turner and his team looking at a screen showing a large chart. Curious, he went over to investigate. The screen showed the precise location of Golden Sundancer. She was still heading south.
It was late evening. Tiredness was rapidly overcoming Rafi -he felt ready to drop. The pressures and excesses of the last week had caught up with him again. He’d lost track of where Kate was, so he left a message for her and cadged a lift back to the hotel. Once there he grabbed a cold drink, had a quick shower and climbed into bed. Sleep came quickly.
LATENT HAZARD: On the Edge Page 30
