Trojan

by Alan McDermott

Harvey took Sarah by the elbow and led her to a quiet corner. ‘We’ve been over this. I don’t want you in harm’s way.’

  ‘In case I lose the baby?’

  ‘Exactly.’

  ‘And what if I don’t want you in harm’s way in case the baby loses its father? Did you ever consider that?’

  Harvey had to admit that the thought hadn’t crossed his mind. ‘I’ll be staying in the background,’ he promised. ‘There’ll be no danger.’

  ‘Great,’ she said triumphantly. ‘So there’s no reason not to take me along.’

  Sarah got her coat and was waiting at the door by the time Harvey reached it.

  CHAPTER 28

  Thursday, 17 August 2017

  Adnan Ghulam ignored the chimes of his mobile phone as he sat glued to the television. The picture on the news channel was of the burnt wreckage of a light aircraft, and the news ticker said that two passengers had died in the crash. It hadn’t been a particularly interesting item until a photo of Khan had appeared in the top corner and an air traffic controller had eagerly explained what had happened to the on-site reporter.

  ‘The police were waiting for this guy but he rammed their cars and then crashed through the gate. I was in the tower trying to communicate with the pilot when it happened, and I saw this van driving up to the Cessna, and a guy got out and tried to get in the plane. I think the police shot and wounded him, but he got in and the plane took off. They shot at it as it went by, then about thirty seconds later it nosedived into the ground.’

  So Khan hadn’t made it home after all. Ghulam felt even better about his decision to remain behind. He’d been offered a seat on the flight but had graciously declined. His health problems precluded him from going back to Syria, where specialist care was non-existent. Even staying in London would not do him much good in the long run, but he’d decided to make one last stand before his body succumbed to the ulcerative colitis that was plaguing him. The next step in his treatment was an ileostomy, and Ghulam had long ago decided that when the time came to carry his crap around in a plastic bag, he’d say goodbye to this world in fitting style.

  He turned the television off and walked over to the window. Inching the lace curtains aside, Ghulam looked out into the street, which was typically deserted.

  The police had somehow managed to see past the ruse fingering al-Hosni as the man in possession of the X3, but there had always been a slight chance that would happen. That they had fooled them for this long was a blessing, and the precautions they had taken would mean the attack would still go ahead before the authorities had a chance to stop it.

  It also meant the police would be looking for Ghulam next. As Khan’s right-hand man, he was the logical choice, but their efforts would be in vain. He had no intention of being taken in, never mind talking.

  The phone rang again.

  ‘Adnan, did you hear the news about Muhammad?’

  Ghulam recognised the voice, and could barely contain his fury. Iqbal, the boy tasked with delivering the nerve agent, had been forbidden from contacting anyone until his mission had been completed.

  ‘Is this your own phone?’ he growled.

  ‘No, I bought a burner, just as I was taught.’

  The fact that the phone would be hard to trace back to the boy was one thing in Iqbal’s favour, but there was no excuse for breaking protocol.

  ‘Khan is dead,’ Iqbal continued. ‘Does that affect tomorrow’s plan?’

  ‘No!’ Ghulam shouted. ‘Proceed as directed. Now destroy that phone and speak to no-one!’

  Ghulam ended the call and threw the handset across the room. It struck a wall with such force that the plastic casing shattered, but he had already resumed his watch on the street by the time the pieces hit the floor.

  The entire operation was now in jeopardy because of one foolish child. Burner or not, the conversation had no doubt been captured by the government snoopers, and they would be concentrating all of their efforts on finding the person who had made the call. If Iqbal did as instructed and destroyed the handset, they wouldn’t be able to track his current location. All they would have was the tower the call was routed through, and that would be too large an area to search in the time that remained. However, as a person of interest, everyone Ghulam had been in communication with over the last few months would be in MI5’s database, and that would help to narrow the search considerably.

  Movement in the street caught his eye, and all thoughts of Iqbal were immediately cast aside. A line of black-clad figures was inching towards his house, and the assault weapons they were carrying told him all he needed to know about their intentions.

  Ghulam moved to the side wall of the living room and pulled back a rug to reveal a trapdoor. He swung it open and looked at the contraption he’d created a week earlier.

  Three butane gas canisters lay next to a small black box, which had a blinking red LED light on the top. Wires ran from the detonator to an ice-cream container that held a few pounds of homemade explosives; not enough to destroy the house on its own, but combined with the butane it would create a blast large enough to kill anyone within a hundred feet.

  Ghulam flipped a switch on the box, then opened the quick-release valves on the gas bottles. He put the trapdoor back in place and smoothed out the carpet, then sat on the sofa, awaiting the inevitable. He tried to listen for the escaping gas, but as had been the case with his trial run, the leaks were silent, the small shag pile and the overhead fan masking the sound. With butane being heavier than air, it wouldn’t rise through the floor and give away his little secret. The timer was set for eight minutes, which would be more than enough time for the police to search the house and declare it clear of any threats before bringing in a team to look for the X3.

  He looked up at the clock and calculated the time for detonation just as the front door caved in and a sea of black flooded into the room.

  Harvey pulled up behind the two police vans in Leopold Road and didn’t bother asking Sarah to remain in the car. They were far enough away from any danger at this point, and he decided to save his efforts for when they were really needed.

  He got out of the car as Sergeant Bury walked over to him and explained what his unit planned to do.

  ‘I’ll send four men in first. Their job is to secure the premises. Once we have the all-clear, we’ll send the rest of the team in to help with the search.’

  ‘I’ll leave the operational side to you, but I just want to stress how important it is that we take Ghulam alive.’

  ‘I’ll pass that on,’ Bury said. ‘But my men have families waiting for them. They’ll do what’s necessary to get home tonight.’

  It was the best Harvey could hope for, short of sending unarmed men in to pick up Ghulam, but there was no telling what a man capable of releasing such a deadly nerve agent would do when confronted by the police. Better the officers protected themselves than be exposed to unnecessary danger.

  Harvey followed Bury over to the quartet of armed officers and listened while he briefed them. A couple of them shot looks at Harvey, but none questioned the orders.

  Bury had the men board the vans. ‘We’ll drive to the end of Ghulam’s street and wait up there. Once the house is secure, we’ll call you in,’ he told Harvey, who walked back to his own car.

  He started the engine and tucked in behind the police vehicles. One of them peeled off to block off the other end of the road and, when they reached their destination, Harvey eased the Ford onto the pavement and switched the engine off. The strike team could be seen jogging to within twenty yards of Ghulam’s house, then stopping to radio in their status.

  ‘Here we go,’ Harvey said as the men formed a line and made their way to the suspect’s house, the man in front carrying a bright red battering ram. Harvey watched him reach the door and take one swing before the frame gave way and the team were inside.

  Harvey cranked his window down to listen for gunshots, but the street remained silent except for the sound of the occasional pa
ssing car. He began to worry that Ghulam wasn’t home, that he’d followed Khan’s example and made a run for it.

  Seconds ticked agonisingly by, until Bury left the van and came over to the car.

  ‘What’s happening?’ Harvey asked.

  ‘They’ve got Ghulam,’ Bury told him. ‘He offered no resistance, and the rest of the house is clear. I’m about to send up the search team.’

  Harvey slapped the steering wheel. ‘Yes!’

  ‘Don’t get too carried away,’ Sarah warned him. ‘We’ve still got to get him to talk.’

  Bury returned to the van and ordered the rest of his men up to the house, while Harvey considered Sarah’s words. She was right; he was getting a little ahead of himself. Having Ghulam in custody was one thing, but there were limits to what they could do to get information out of him.

  ‘Give me fifteen minutes with him,’ Harvey said. ‘If I can’t get him to talk, we’ll have to let Maynard’s goons have a crack.’

  ‘If we hand him over to Maynard, he’ll take all the credit. He’ll get rid of Veronica in a heartbeat.’

  ‘Not necessarily. If we’re the ones that deliver Ghulam, that must go some way towards redeeming ourselves.’

  He could see that Sarah wasn’t convinced, but as far as he was concerned it was the only remaining option.

  ‘Let’s go and help out,’ Sarah said. ‘There’s a chance the X3 is in his house.’

  She put her hand on the door release, but Harvey grabbed her elbow. ‘Not this time. I want you to stay in the car.’

  ‘Your concern is noted, but it’s not going to happen. He’s in cuffs, for God’s sake. What’s he going to do? Look at me strangely?’

  Harvey’s phone rang, and he gestured for her to stay put while he answered it.

  ‘Harvey.’

  ‘We intercepted a call to Ghulam’s phone,’ Farsi said.

  Harvey listened as his colleague read from the transcript. ‘It sounds like the caller is the one who’s going to release the X3. Have you got a location?’

  ‘We can only narrow it down to an area three miles wide,’ Farsi said. ‘We tried tracking it further but the signal’s dead. He must have obeyed the instructions from Ghulam and destroyed the phone.’

  ‘Then check all of Khan’s associates and see if any of them live within that area. Get your snitch on it, too.’

  Harvey hung up the phone and told Sarah what he’d learned.

  ‘I still think we should check out Ghulam’s house. There might be something there that could indicate who the caller is.’

  Harvey had to agree, but despite her earlier speech, he remained reluctant to take her along. There wasn’t much Ghulam could do to her, but Harvey still felt an overwhelming need to protect her.

  It was as if Sarah could sense his inner turmoil.

  ‘If you don’t let me go in, where does this stop?’ she asked. ‘Will you refuse to let me do the grocery shopping, or will you force me to quit my yoga classes in case I get hit by an expanding consciousness? I’m telling you, this is going to get tiresome very quickly.’

  Harvey looked at her for a moment, then sighed. ‘You’re right,’ he apologised. ‘I guess I’m still getting used to the idea of being a daddy.’

  ‘Who says you’re the father?’ Sarah winked, and reached for the door handle.

  The explosion lifted the car a foot off the ground and sent it tumbling across the road. Neither of them were wearing their seat belts, and they bounced around the interior like teddy bears in a tumble dryer.

  When the car finally settled on its roof, Harvey found himself on his back, and the right-hand side of his face felt numb. He put a hand up to his cheek and found debris that had embedded itself in his cheek. His limbs all seemed to work, but things got worse as he looked over to Sarah. She was crumpled in a heap on the car ceiling, rivulets of blood seeping through her blonde hair.

  ‘Sarah!’

  Harvey righted himself, ignoring the jolt of pain from his right hip. He moved Sarah’s hair aside and felt for a pulse. It was there, but weak.

  Through the shattered window, he saw that little remained of Ghulam’s house. Half of the adjoining building had disappeared, leaving a just a couple of devastated rooms overlooking a smouldering crater.

  ‘Are you two okay?’

  An upside-down Bury knelt next to Harvey’s window.

  ‘I’m . . . I think so. Sarah needs an ambulance.’

  ‘There’s one on its way.’

  Thoughts of Bury’s men leapt into Harvey’s head, but the time to mourn them would have to wait. The only thing that mattered was making sure Sarah lived. She lay face down with her backside in the air, and his first thought was to get her into the recovery position, but that meant moving her, and there was no telling what damage had been done to her spine. Even shifting her a couple of inches could be enough to paralyse her permanently, so he made do with smoothing her hair out of the way and checking to make sure she was breathing. He found a piece of shattered mirror and held it to her nose and saw it cloud slightly, confirming that she was alive.

  ‘Sarah? Can you hear me?’

  Sarah remained unresponsive, and all Harvey could do was hold her hand gently until the sirens heralded the arrival of the ambulances. Three arrived within a minute, and the first of the paramedics helped Harvey from the car while the others determined how best to remove Sarah. One of them wanted to take a look at his facial wounds, but Harvey waved him off, pointing at Sarah.

  ‘Be careful, she’s pregnant.’

  One medic crawled into the car and checked her over while Harvey stood back watching the men and women do their work. After a few minutes, a collar was placed around Sarah’s neck before she was rolled gently onto a spine board and carried to a waiting ambulance. Harvey climbed inside with her and sat in a corner so that the staff could continue working on her.

  ‘How is she?’ he asked as the siren wailed and the vehicle pulled away.

  ‘Responses are good, but we’ll know more once she’s had a proper examination. We’ve radioed ahead so they’ll be expecting us.’

  The medic asked Harvey what had happened, and he gave a full account of the explosion and the brief aftermath.

  ‘You were lucky to get away with just a few cuts and bruises,’ he said, but Harvey wasn’t listening. He was staring at Sarah, who looked so vulnerable lying unconscious on the gurney.

  The ambulance made short work of the traffic and stopped outside the A & E department six minutes later. Harvey followed the trolley through the maze of hallways as the ambulance staff passed on details of Sarah’s condition. When they reached the trauma unit, he tried to enter but a nurse blocked his way.

  ‘She’ll be looked after. Come with me and we’ll sort you out.’

  Harvey watched the double doors close and reluctantly accepted the fact that Sarah’s fate was out of his hands. He let the nurse lead him to a cubicle where she offered him a seat and asked what had happened. As Harvey recounted the incident, he suddenly realised that he owed an update to someone else. He took out his phone, but the screen was cracked and it refused to turn on.

  ‘I need to make a call,’ he said. ‘It’s urgent.’

  ‘Let me take a look at that face of yours first.’

  ‘It can’t wait that long.’ He explained who he worked for and was rewarded with a look of sardonic disbelief. Harvey guessed she’d heard a few tall tales in her time, and claiming to be working for MI5 on a matter of national security clearly hadn’t convinced her.

  ‘Just sit still while I remove these,’ she said, picking a piece of glass from his cheek with a pair of tweezers. She placed it in a kidney dish and told him to close his eyes while she worked on a fragment near the top of his cheek.

  After ten minutes, Harvey had received a tetanus shot and half a dozen butterfly stitches for his troubles. He thanked the nurse and went to the reception area to find a phone.

  ‘What the hell happened?’ Ellis asked when the call connected.
‘It’s all over the news.’

  ‘I don’t know. We were sitting fifty yards away when the house went up. There were about eight officers in there at the time. There’s no way they could have survived that blast.’

  ‘Are you both okay?’

  ‘I’m fine,’ Harvey said, ‘but Sarah was knocked out. They’re assessing her now.’

  The line went quiet for a moment. ‘Andrew, did Sarah confide in you in the last few days?’

  Harvey immediately sensed that Ellis was talking about the baby, and felt a little hurt that he hadn’t been the first to know. ‘Yes, she told me that she’s pregnant,’ he said a little more abruptly than intended.

  ‘She’s a strong girl,’ Ellis replied, unperturbed. ‘Did anyone manage to speak to Ghulam before the explosion?’

  ‘Whatever he said to the arresting officers died with them. They’re gone, all eight of them. The place must have been rigged to blow.’

  Another silence followed, and Harvey once again thought of the families who would be waiting for their fathers and husbands to come home, only to receive a visit from a ranking officer instead. The children waiting for Daddy to tuck them into bed and read them a story, and the wives awaiting their life partners, so they could share a meal and snuggle in front of the television.

  ‘I want you back here as soon as Sarah’s stable,’ Ellis said, interrupting his thoughts. ‘Godspeed, Andrew.’

  The phone went dead, and Harvey went back to the trauma unit. He stood outside the room for a few minutes, until eventually a doctor appeared through the doors.

  Harvey stepped in front of him. ‘How’s Sarah?’

  ‘She’s fine,’ the doctor told him. ‘She has a concussion and dislocated two fingers, but there’s no internal bleeding. I understand you were sitting closest to the blast?’

  ‘I was.’

  ‘That was fortunate. For her, I mean. No offence.’

  ‘None taken. Is the baby okay?’

  ‘Absolutely fine. We did a scan and found a healthy heartbeat. There was no damage to her abdomen, but she has a nasty cut to the head that I want to keep an eye on, so we’ll be keeping her in overnight.’