Peggy smiled at the boy and went to the food supplies heaped in a jumble on a spare table between four empty seats. As she was sorting through the tins and jars, under the watchful eye of a hijacker’s gun, Kourash burst into the carriage.
‘David!’ he shouted. ‘Come here.’
‘What? Why? Billy? What’s going on?’
‘Never mind what’s going on, I need you up here to help,’ said Kourash.
‘But, but, Billy normally does that. Help with the supplies.’
‘Well today’s not normal so fucking get a move on.’ Kourash was clearly losing patience with David, so Billy intervened. ‘Kourash, please...’
‘And you can fuck off as well,’ snapped Kourash, swinging his gun around to train it on Billy. Billy opened his mouth to reply, but Hazel grabbed his arm.
‘Sit down, Billy, there’s nothing you can do.’
As Billy acceded to her request, he watched as David was grabbed roughly by one of the hijackers, his hands grasping either side of David’s jacket as he pulled him up and out of his seat. Another prised Charlie’s fingers off his dad’s arm. A protesting David was bundled into the driver’s cab, into Kourash’s clutch, all the time followed by his son’s wails. As the hijacker moved away, Billy and the others could see through the open driver’s door. Kourash and David were stood slightly back from the opening. The wind blew Kourash’s curls, whipping them around his shoulders like writhing snakes. He held David by the collar of his stained and worn shirt with one hand. The other hand held a pistol which was pressed to David’s head.
Peggy grabbed Charlie as he attempted to run to his father. He was crying and screaming hysterically, ‘Dad! Dad! I want my dad!’
Charlie tried his best to wriggle out of Peggy’s embrace, desperate to reach his father. But she was too quick for him. Enfolding him in a bear hug, she held him close, bending her head to whisper in his ear.
‘It’s alright. Dad will come back. He’ll only be a little while,’ and she led him to a seat where Charlie’s screams subsided into heart-breaking sobs. Billy could only watch and hope Peggy was right.
The supplies were brought on board, under the watchful eye of Kourash, who never once relaxed his grip on David’s clothes, nor taken the pistol away from David’s head. When the exchange was finished and the delivery truck was rumbling its way backwards along the tracks, the supplies were brought into the carriage and placed on a table. The enticing smell of freshly ground coffee filled the carriage and Billy realised how much he needed his morning caffeine fix.
Hazel stood, grabbed some paper cups and started to pour the coffee for them. Peggy had managed to get Charlie to stop crying with the promise of a croissant. Mick stood, complaining that his stomach was rumbling and he needed food before he wasted away, bringing the expected laughs from his fellow hostages. As they all relaxed and settled down with their breakfast, Billy fully expected David to be brought back into the carriage. Instead Kourash lifted the phone.
‘Keane,’ Kourash shouted, so they all could hear him, his voice floating down the carriage aisle. ‘Watch your monitors.’
Placing the receiver on the control panel, Kourash didn’t cut the call. From his seat near the driver’s cab, Billy could hear Keane’s ineffectual squawks coming out of the telephone. The negotiator reduced to a tame parrot, churning out his trite phrases.
Very much afraid that things were about to go badly wrong, Billy stood, this time ignoring Hazel’s protests. He moved towards the open door, only to be stopped by an AK47 pushed into his chest by a hijacker, a sign for him to stop right where he was and to back off. But Billy stood his ground, refusing to move away, his gaze drawn to David in the open driver’s cab doorway. It was the doorway that faced the media field. The awful tableau no doubt being beamed across the world as Kourash paused dramatically for a few seconds. Then he pushed David out of the cab, to fall 100’ to his death, as though David meant no more to him than a discarded toy that he was throwing away in fit of childish temper.
David’s sickening scream echoed around the majestic Dales, joined by his son’s. Their voices locked together until their duet was broken by a barely audible thud, as David hit the ground.
Kourash held his arms aloft, complete with gun in one hand, a gesture of defiance which was a clear message to the world that he was in charge. He then bowed slightly, as though acknowledging an enthralled audience, before closing the door, cutting them off from the outside world once again.
Picking up the handset Kourash said into it, ‘Perhaps that will teach you to stop playing games with me, Keane.’
09:15 hours
There was a beat of absolute silence before the waiting room erupted.
‘Get those pictures off the television,’ screamed the Colonel to Dudley-Jones. ‘I can’t believe they just showed that!’
‘With respect, sir, they didn’t know what Kourash was going to do. They are beaming live pictures, remember,’ said Dudley-Jones.
‘I don’t care how the bloody hell they’re beaming just get those pictures off the air.’
‘I’m probably best placed to do that,’ the grey man said and Hardwick retrieved his mobile from his pocket and walked out casually, as though he was in complete control. Crane could only hope he was.
‘What about the internet, DJ?’ Crane asked, as the Colonel answered a call on his mobile.
‘The footage is all over it, sir. We’ll try and get some of the sites shut down until they stop showing the hostage falling to his death,’ Dudley-Jones grabbed a tissue and wiped his sweat streaked face. ‘We’re trying our best, sir.’
Crane placed his hand on the young Intelligence Operative’s shoulder. ‘I know, lad. You’re all doing a great job. And as for you, it’s a big responsibility being the sole intelligence link here, receiving all the information, passing it on to us dinosaurs and then relaying instructions back to the team.’
Just then Crane and Dudley-Jones were interrupted by Hardwick, who had finished his call and returned to the waiting room. ‘The Prime Minister wants to speak to us. Open a secure satellite line, Dudley-Jones, he wants a video call.’
Crane moved away from Dudley-Jones so he could get on with his job without interference. As the screen on the wall started to fizz and crackle, everyone moved into a clear viewing position. Keane came out of his cubby-hole, to stand next to Crane and Hardwick.
As the picture broke up into pixels and then cleared, the Prime Minister could be seen, looking rather more tousled than Crane had ever seen him before. He had no jacket on. His shirt sleeves were rolled up and tie off. He ran his hand through hair that Crane was sure had more grey in it than last week and began to speak.
‘I wanted to take this opportunity to personally thank you all for your efforts. I’ve been kept fully up to date on the negotiations and diplomatic liaison, by members of COBRA. But after this latest incident,’ his voice cracked for just a moment, ‘I’m afraid I’ve been left with no choice. You have all done a wonderful job of containing the hijackers, looking after the hostages and providing real time intelligence that has helped tremendously. However, after much internal debate and under advisement from the Chiefs of Staff Committee, I’ve decided that Kourash has left us with no choice.’
Crane thought it interesting that the Prime Minister spat Kourash’s name, showing his feelings for the man. Crane was sure every person in the room concurred.
‘We will go in tonight, or rather tomorrow morning at 04:00 hours. I can’t give the hijackers time to kill another hostage, nor the opportunity to negotiate a peaceful settlement to the incident. They’ve burned their bridges as it were. There is now no way back. Obviously this statement must be kept confidential. It is essential we maintain our element of surprise. For now, we have to maintain contact with the hijackers and try and keep Kourash as stable as possible. I know this is probably an impossible task, but I urge you to try. Let’s not give him further cause to retaliate. Once again, thank you and I hope you will join me in pra
ying for the safe rescue of the remaining hostages.’
Crane wondered if they were all going to bow their heads, with the Prime Minister leading prayers in sombre tones, but to his relief the satellite feed went dead and everyone relaxed.
‘We’ve just had confirmation that the three big television stations, BBC, ITV and Sky have agreed that the pictures are too distressing to show and none of them will show the incident again,’ Dudley Jones said. ‘However, there are other stations, such as Aljazeera, who are refusing to comply. And it’s still all over the internet and now there are tweets about it, providing the internet links to the video. We’re trying our best to contain it, but I’m afraid you all need to understand that it’s an impossible task.’
‘Very well,’ Booth replied.
‘Still, the bright side of this is that it will help our cause in turning public opinion,’ said Crane. ‘Even more people will now be calling for the hijacking to end. For the armed forces to do something about it. I know it seems a heartless thing to say, but Kourash may just have done us all a favour.’
Crane mentally crossed his fingers and prayed that what he’d just said would come true. Why on earth did it have to come to this, though? An innocent man, hurled out of a train would be the catalyst for turning public opinion. There would be those who would say that therefore David’s death had not been in vain. But Crane doubted that would be of much comfort to David’s wife, or to David’s son.
***
The screams of those on board the train were more terrible than David’s scream as he hurtled to his death, if that were at all possible. Billy and Mick leapt at the hijackers, but were turned away by threatening gestures from their guns and by Kourash shooting at the ceiling. A clear sign to do as they were told, or else. The women were frantic, their shattering screaming filling Billy’s head.
Unable to get to Kourash and pummel him to death, Billy turned to do the only thing he could. Try and help his fellow hostages. He went to sit next to Hazel, cradling her, encouraging her to calm down. He told her she needed to think of the baby. No one wanted to have to deliver her child here in this filthy carriage. It was vital she calmed down for the baby’s sake, as well as Billy’s nerves, his last words bringing the reward of a small smile.
Billy looked up and saw that Mick had gone to help Peggy try and calm down Charlie. Jesus. What would seeing the violent death of his father do to the poor child, Billy wondered and once more his anger began to build. The bastard Kourash couldn’t be allowed to get away with this.
Billy stood, saw that the other hijackers were jabbering amongst themselves at the opposite end of the carriage and took his opportunity. He burst into the driver’s cab, to find Kourash puffed up like a peacock. Strutting around the small space, chest out, gun raised praising Allah. Billy turned away from the posturing idiot and went towards Emma, who was cowering in the corner. He crouched down beside her.
‘Billy, Billy, did that really just happen? I saw Kourash push David out of the door. Is he dead? I, I...’ her voice faltere. ‘I’m sorry, sorry, I didn’t realise what he was like. What are we going to do?’ Emma clung to Billy. ‘Are we all going to die?’
Billy really couldn’t answer that question. He held Emma slightly away from him, so he could see her face. ‘We’ve just got to hang on, Emma,’ he said, trying hard to inject steel into his voice, trying to mask his own horror and fear.
‘Can... can... I come back with you?’ she pleaded. ‘I’m sorry about earlier, I don’t want to stay here, please don’t make me, please let me come back.’
Billy nodded his agreement, for what else could he do? He couldn’t leave her in Kourash’s clutches. He helped her to her feet. At the doorway he called for Hazel to come and take Emma from him. Once free of the deluded teenager, as he would now always think of Emma, he turned to Kourash.
‘Proud of yourself now, are you?’ he spat.
‘Most definitely,’ Kourash smiled. ‘I’ve just sent a clear message that I will not be messed about by anyone. Not by the negotiator, the British Government, nor the Afghan Government. Now they all know what they are dealing with. I am a man true to his cause.’ Kourash hit his chest with a clenched fist. ‘I’m a man not afraid to make the ultimate sacrifice in order to ensure his demands are met.’
The fire of jihad was in Kourash’s eyes. Billy knew he couldn’t do anything to change Kourash’s mind, but he’d have his say anyway.
‘You haven’t made the ultimate sacrifice,’ yelled Billy. ‘David did!’
Kourash sneered in reply. ‘Well in that case his family should be pleased and treat him like a hero. David has now stood out from the greyness of his humdrum ordinary life. He will be remembered down the ages as someone who died for his country.’
‘But what about Charlie?’ Billy rounded on the man he could only think was a complete lunatic. ‘What about him? He’s only a child. Just think what a terrible effect this will have on him. How badly he could be affected by these terrible events.’
‘And I should care about that?’ countered Kourash. ‘That’s nothing compared to what I’ve had to live through. Abandoned, effectively orphaned. Taken in by a family who cared little for my welfare and showed me no affection. I had to put up with the hand that life dealt me. So will Charlie. Now go away and leave me alone.’
Kourash pushed Billy out of the door and slammed it shut. An evil king left alone in his throne room.
10:00 hours
‘Right lads, listen up,’ Major Blunt of the Special Air Services (SAS) spoke in a quiet calm voice, but it was a voice that was immediately obeyed.
The troop of 15 casually dressed soldiers, stilled. They lounged in seats, sat on top of tables or stood leaning against the wall. Despite their nonchalance, each one was focused on the man they called ‘the old man’. Their squadron leader.
‘If there was any doubt before, there is little doubt now,’ he began. ‘We’re going in.’
Murmurings of agreement were accompanied by much nodding of heads. At last, they seemed to say.
‘Okay, settle down,’ Blunt continued and was immediately obeyed with much smiling. ‘There will be two plans, dependent upon weather. Plan A, if there is low cloud and rain, as forecast, we’ll use aircraft support first. Creating immediate ‘shock and awe’ as the Yanks say.’
As the laughter faded, he continued. ‘However, if it’s a clear, still moonlit night, Plan B will be implemented, which is with no initial air support. The hijackers would see the planes coming from a mile away and would more than likely kill all the hostages before you had a chance to reach the train. Both plans call for the Special Projects Team of the SAS to go in first. That’s you lot. Just in case you’ve forgotten who you are, as you’ve had to wait so long for the all clear to go in and get the job done.’
The men laughed again, as expected. They knew the old man liked his jokes.
‘Right, Captain Thomas here will explain,’ and he made way for their leader. The boss would lead the operation, would stand shoulder to shoulder with them. The man whom they would follow anywhere and do anything for. Captain Thomas was a Troop Leader in the Special Projects Team, a wing of the SAS specialising in anti-terrorist and counter-terrorism. The Captain and his lads undertook training, in rotation, in hostage rescue, siege breaking, and live firing exercises.
‘For both plans,’ he began, ‘we have to be in place at the bottom of the viaduct arches. Therefore, we’ll go in at approximately 21:00 hours tonight, when the last supplies of the day are taken to the train. The hijackers will be busy watching the truck and loading stores, so we’ll come in from the back, at ground level, ready and waiting to scale the arches just before the raid begins. The delivery will be slightly later than usual, to ensure we can go in under cover of darkness. The last thing we want is the media showing live pictures of us crawling into position. Pictures which are no doubt being monitored by the hijackers.
‘We’ll have to wait there, under cover, at the bottom of the arches, until
five minutes before kick-off. Then we’ll scale the walls using the latest ‘geko’ suction technology. No need for ropes or grappling hooks, not that you could swing one 100’ high. We used it when we put the listening devices under the train carriages, so we know it works. Only this time you’ll be carrying extra weight as you’ll be fully loaded. So just be careful and take your time.
‘At the appointed hour, you will split into two factions, one going inside the train, the other climbing onto the roof. The hijackers regularly patrol the top of the train, so we’ll need to make that area secure. Just in case extra support is needed, another unit will be waiting in helicopters to drop onto the track or the roof of the train, where ever back up is needed.’
‘We’ve been training with the replica of the two carriage train with marks where we think people are. This has been done in daylight so you now know the exact layout. But as the movement of the passengers and hijackers is fluid, we’ll continue training today using every variable we can come up with. The carriages are now blacked out with film over the windows and will be filled with smoke and noise in an exact reproduction of what you’ll be faced with tonight.’
Thomas indicated a two carriage train, complete with driver’s cab that was in the large warehouse structure they were all standing in. Instead of building a hardboard replica it had been decided it was quicker and easier to use a similar real train. Northern Rail had kindly provided an old train, no longer in service, located at one of their repair yards. So the whole team had moved out of the barracks, setting up a base camp in the secluded Northern Rail location. There wouldn’t be any likelihood of the old train ever being used again. Already there were many bullet holes in the structure and the seats had been shredded by strafing fire.
‘We’ll practice the plan over and over,’ he continued, ‘until your movements are automatic, your reflexes sharp and you manage the whole operation without killing any bloody hostages. Right?’
A Soldier's Honour Box Set 2 (Sgt Major Crane crime thrillers Box Set) Page 56
