‘If it is the will of Allah, who are you to argue?’ said Harith.
‘Why won’t you tell 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 enthusiastically. ‘You must put your trust in Allah.’
Malik opened his mouth to say something but Chaudhry squeezed his shoulder and shook his head.
The van came to a stop. ‘Allah be with you, brothers,’ said Harith.
‘And with you, brother,’ said Chaudhry. ‘Allahu Akbar.’
‘Allahu Akbar,’ repeated Harith.
Malik opened the door and stepped out on to the pavement. Chaudhry followed him and slammed the door shut. A cold wind blew against their backs and they both pulled up the hoods of their coats as they watched the van drive away.
‘Raj, what the hell 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. ‘Tell 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’ll 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 all 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 called over to one of the men in front of the terminals. ‘Peter?’ A middle-aged man in a sports jacket swivelled his chair to face her. ‘Is there any way we can get an explosives dog to the station, now?’ asked Button.
‘I’ll try,’ he said.
‘If we can run a dog through and get a reaction that will tell us something,’ said Button. ‘But on the QT, no confrontation.’
‘Got it,’ said the man, turning back to his computer keyboard.
‘Can the dog tell 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 will 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 telling.’
‘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.’
‘Hell, 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 collateral 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 following 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’ll 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 hell 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, will you? What do we do?’
‘He didn’t say anything about a bomb. He just said we go into the station and we’ll get further instructions.’ Chaudhry held up the map. ‘This is where we have to go.’
‘And you believe that? And where the hell is Khalid? For all we know he could be calling up mobile-phone detonators right now. We’re dead men walking, brother.’
‘Just give me a minute, will 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 trainin
g 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 really 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 call us and tell us to start shooting.’
‘I’m not shooting anybody. Look, let’s just dump the backpacks and get the hell 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’ll be it. How do we know they’ll catch Khalid?’
‘That’s not our problem, Raj.’
‘Yes, it is,’ hissed Chaudhry. ‘These people kill civilians. They’re terrorists so that’s what they want to do — terrorise. They kill and maim innocents because that way they spread terror. And if we don’t stop Khalid maybe he’ll kill 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 will?’
‘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?’
‘All of them,’ said Button.
‘We can get them all but there are more than a hundred cameras inside and outside. They’re asking if you want them to be selective.’
‘We need them all,’ 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’ll 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 tell 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 following 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 still in their vehicle.’
‘Let’s leave it that way for a while longer,’ said Button. She called 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 all 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 wall of screens. ‘Let’s clear the top row and put them all 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. All were wearing backpacks.
A black screen flickered into life. It was filled 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 footage to see if we can spot anyone else. I’m as anti-profiling as anyone but we’re looking for young male Asians with backpacks.’
Shepherd got up and went to stand next to her.
‘Chaudhry and Malik are about to enter the station,’ said the commander.
‘We’ve got the van covered from the air, and it’s no longer a threat,’ said Button, her eyes on the screen.
Each of the screens showing the CCTV footage from St Pancras was divided into sixteen viewpoints, four across and four down. One of the shots was a view of the main entrance. Shepherd could see Chaudhry and Malik standing together.
‘If we move now we can take them down before they enter the station,’ said the commander. ‘But that window of opportunity is closing fast. If there are bombs in those backpacks. .’ He left the sentence unfinished.
Shepherd stared at the screen. Chaudhry was looking straight at the camera, almost as if he was looking right at Shepherd; then he smiled thinly.
‘It’s okay,’ said Shepherd. ‘There’s no need to shoot.’
‘What do you mean?’ said the commander.
‘Spider?’ said Button.
‘It’s okay, nothing’s going to happen.’
‘How can you say that?’ asked Button.
‘His hood. The hood of his duffel coat. We agreed a signal: if he was in trouble he’d move his hood. His hood has been up since he got out of the van. He hasn’t done anything to it so it’s all good.’
Button and the commander turned to look at the screen. Chaudhry was looking right at them. His face was strained and he was biting down on his lower lip. ‘He’s stressed,’ said Button.
‘Of course he’s stressed. He’s stressed because he knows we’re following him and the cops have a habit of shooting innocent people.’ He smiled at the commander. ‘No offence,’ he said.
‘We’re not going to get another chance like this,’ said the commander. ‘Once they’re inside we can’t use the snipers so that means we’ll have to go in, and then it’s going to get very messy.’
Shepherd ignored the policeman and stared intently at Button. ‘Charlie, this is a rehearsal.’
‘Are you sure, Spider? Are you absolutely sure?’
Shepherd pointed at the screen. ‘Raj and I have a prearranged signal. If there’s a problem he’ll pull down his hood. Or he’ll bite his nails. If there was a problem that’s what he’d do. He’s not doing either. Harvey’s hood is up too.’
As they watched, Chaudhry turned and walked through the doors leading into the station.
‘What if he’s forgotten? What if in the heat of the moment he hasn’t remembered?’
‘He was looking at the camera,’ said Shepherd. ‘He was giving us a clear view of his face so that we can see it’s him.’
‘There’s a lot riding on this, Spider,’ said Button. ‘You have to be sure.’
Shepherd swallowed, his mind whirling. He wasn’t sure. There was no way that he could be. But if he admitted that to Button she’d give the order and the CO19 marksmen would start shooting.
‘We have a window of about two seconds,’ said the commander.
‘Spider?’ asked Button.
‘It’s okay,’ he said.
Button nodded and looked at the commander. ‘Stand your men down,’ she said. ‘We won’t be shooting anyone today.’
The commander scowled at Button as if he thought she’d made the wrong decision, but he relayed the order to his team.
Button looked back at Shepherd and he could see the apprehension in her eyes. He knew exactly what she was thinking. If he was wrong both their lives were about to change for ever. And a lot of people were going to die.
Chaudhry and Malik walked together towards the Eurostar departure area. A train had just arrived and
passengers were pouring out of the arrivals hall.
‘What’s going to happen?’ asked Malik.
‘I don’t know,’ said Chaudhry.
‘Are we going to France? Are we doing something on the Eurostar?’
‘We can’t, we don’t have our passports.’
‘So why are we here?’
‘I don’t know, Harvey. Now just shut up, will you?’ Malik flinched as if he’d been struck and Chaudhry felt suddenly guilty. ‘I’m sorry,’ whispered Chaudhry. ‘I don’t know what’s going on. But it’s not about bombs, I’m sure about that.’
‘So what, then?’
‘Wait and we’ll find out.’
A fearful look flashed across Malik’s face. ‘Raj, what if it’s radioactive? What if there’s plutonium or something in the packs? It could be killing us now without us knowing.’
‘No one is going to kill us, Harvey. Remember what The Sheik said to us? We are Islamic warriors. Mujahideen. We are to fight and fight again, remember? We were never meant to be shahid. Only the stupid and ignorant kill themselves. That’s not us.’
‘So why won’t they tell us what’s happening? Have a look at the phone, will you? Check it’s working.’
Chaudhry took the phone Harith had given him out of his pocket. He showed the screen to Malik. ‘See? When they call, it’ll ring.’
‘Yeah? And maybe the phone is the trigger. Maybe when it rings the packs will explode or spew anthrax into the air.’
‘Harvey, will you look at the bloody phone? It’s a phone, full stop. It’s not connected to anything. It’s not a detonator. Okay?’
Malik shuddered. ‘I can’t take this much longer, brother. It’s doing my head in, innit?’
Chaudhry wasn’t listening to his friend. He was scanning the area, his eyes narrowed. ‘It’s a rehearsal,’ he said quietly.
‘What?’
‘A dry run.’ He gestured with his chin. ‘Take a look around, Harvey.’
Malik looked to his left. He saw two young Asians standing by a coffee shop. They both had backpacks similar to the ones that he and Chaudhry were carrying. Then he looked over at the entrance to the tube station just as two more Asians walked out. He saw they also had backpacks. Timberland backpacks. ‘Are they with us?’ asked Malik. ‘I don’t recognise them.’
False Friends ss-9 Page 25
