She said. “Let’s hope we get him when he comes back out. Hopefully that car will pull up again to give us a little bit of warning.”
The next 20 minutes passed agonisingly slowly, then the Range Rover was there and Booth kept her finger on the automatic shutter as the man clambered in to the back of the car, which swiftly disappeared into the London traffic.
“We got him that time,” said Booth. “Do you want to let them know that we are sending something over for them to have a look at?”
The arrival of the emailed pictures sparked a flurry of activity in Victoria. The duty sergeant running the surveillance op looked at the pictures then immediately forwarded them onto Brian Hooley. He moved to send an email telling his boss they were there when he had second thoughts; he’d go and warn him in person. Brian Hooley was an excellent copper but the digital world left him cold. “Why can’t people talk to each other instead of sending pointless messages?” was a constant refrain.
The Sergeant grinned as he stood up to walk over to the office the DCI was now sharing with that odd ball Roper. At first, he had wondered why Hooley was taking so much trouble, but then realised if Roper was in that office he wasn’t somewhere else asking all sorts of strange questions. And that, he decided, was a good thing. Before he was suspended Roper had been in the main squad office and had not proved popular. Most just learned to ignore him, but a handful became extremely irritated. Sticking his head round the door he called out. “Pictures from Mount Street sir, on your email. We’re running the photo and number plate. I’ll let you know the moment we have anything.”
Even Roper had noticed something was going on and came across to look at the photos. After a moment he declared. “There’s something frightening about that man, I bet he enjoys violence. There’s also something military about him. He’s a man who’s used to being obeyed.”
“In that case,” said Hooley. “I’ll get these sent over to Major Phillips, see if any of the SAS boys recognise him.”
59
“I can see why they get called “iceberg” houses, said Hooley. “And how on earth do they get planning permission for digging such a big hole?”
He was looking at plans for the Mount Street property which Roper had been sent by the local planning department. He’d put in a request as soon as he had learned the house had been visited by David Francis. The square footage of the double-depth basement area amounted to the same space as the entire above ground property.
In response to the DCI’s question Roper stabbed his finger at the plans. “According to the planning office the council didn’t approve such a huge development. The council only discovered it six months ago and is demanding answers. “They don’t know for sure exactly what is down there. At one point our house, and the ones either side, were owned by the same company so that might explain how they got the work done with no one complaining.”
The DCI could see where this might be heading. “To state the obvious, it seems that the house we’re interested in has a secret basement area and it could be where they are holding Tricia Williams. In fact, if your theory is right, they could be holding a lot of people.”
Roper nodded. “Everything we know is pointing that way.”
Hooley was up on his feet. “I think we need to talk to the boss and suggest she rethinks getting a warrant to raid that place.” As he made for the door he stopped and turned back to Roper. “Was there anything else you wanted to raise?”
Roper nodded. “The house had a massive security refit two year ago. There’s blast proof glass, a reinforced front door and internal doors. The guy at the council said it’s a bit like a fortress. Apparently, it was claimed that Middle-Eastern royalty would be staying there. It seems like the sort of place we will find that ex-army man Sykes.”
Hooley shook his head as he absorbed the information. “I suppose this is the price we pay for London being a city that the rich want to live in. Anyway, I’m glad you found out about the security there. It would have been embarrassing if we hadn’t been able to get in.”
Fifteen minutes later they were in Mayweather’s office, but this time sitting around the conference table with other senior members of the team. Hooley had given the briefing with Roper chipping in. Mayweather noticed that with other people present he had gone quiet, only speaking when asked to.
The DCI was about to make a new point when his mobile started ringing. He cut it off with barely a glance and carried on but a few moments later a uniformed officer appeared at the door.
“There’s a Major Phillips on the phone. He says it’s urgent.”
Hooley glanced ruefully at his mobile. Presumably that had been the Major just now. He followed the officer to his desk and picked up the phone.
“Tom, Brian here. Sorry to keep you waiting.”
“Never mind any of that,” the answer came back fast. “We’ve got an ID for you on the fella who got out of the Range Rover. His name’s Tommy Burton and he’s seriously bad news. Throw in Sykes and you’ve got a formidable team.”
Hooley rocked back on his feet. “I can’t tell you how important that information might be. We’re just talking about going into that house because of what Roper has found out.”
The Major’s voice was urgent as he replied. “If that place has those two connected to it then you’re going to need our help. I’m not trying to top dog anyone, but we have the experience and kit to do this job as safely as possible. It would be a mistake if a police team tried to go in without our support.”
Hooley puffed out his cheeks then said. “When can you get here?”
60
By the time the Major arrived Roper had persuaded his new friend at the planning department to send over the plans for the houses either side of their target property.
“Looking at it from the street then the house on the right is currently empty since it is due to start a major renovation programme next week. The house on the left is also registered to an off-shore company, the same as our property. The council is not certain if anyone is currently in occupation.”
“I can answer that,” said Hooley. “Our observation teams have seen a middle-aged couple coming and going so I think we have to assume that someone is in there.”
With the SAS on board it was standing room only in Mayweather’s office. She wasn’t present since she was with the Commissioner briefing him on events and waiting for permission to take action. With Special Forces taking the lead this was far from a routine Met operation.
Major Phillips had bought his tactical officer with him and the two men had remained silent while Hooley talked through what they knew. Then it was the SAS men’s turn to take-over. The Major introduced his colleague, Lieutenant Tim Turner.
“I’m going to outline a plan then it’s going to be up to Tim to decide if it’s workable. Those crucial details will make the difference.” He placed his hands behind his back and went on. “The first thing we need to do is get those neighbours out of the area and discreetly set-up an exclusion zone. We don’t want a bus load of tourists going past as we abseil off the roof. I would hate to think of all the selfies going up on Facebook just as our boys blasted their way in.”
This comment brought a low chuckle from the assembled team and helped to ease a little of the tension.
The Major carried on. “I suggest we don’t need to wait for the op to get the green light to start getting things in motion. My team will be there any moment and they can set up the exclusion area and take care of the neighbours. Once the bosses say yes, we need to go.”
He looked down at the plans that Roper had got hold of and pointed at the roof.
“I think this may be the best way for us to access the building. From what Mr. Roper’s told us about the work that’s been done we would have severe problems going through the front door or front windows; at least those on the lower floors.
“However, it seems that the windows to the rear of the property have not been fortified so that seems to be the best chan
ce. The only other entrance we might consider is the underground parking bay, but again we may run into the problems of it being well protected. So I think the rear of the building should be the main focus.”
Brian Hooley was impressed with by the calm authority of the Special Forces officer. “How soon can you be ready to go? - once we get the OK from upstairs” he asked.
The Major looked carefully round the room, making eye contact with all those present.
“I’m sure I’m not giving any secrets away when I say we are fully prepared for kidnapping and hostage rescue situations. All the resources we need are close to hand so we will be ready when you are.”
This last comment brought knowing smiles from the police officers. It was one of the worst kept secrets that SAS teams were on stand-by in London.
The Major clapped his hands together. “OK, we’ll get on with it. But I would like to say that if anyone thinks of something please let me or Tim know. We are not supermen so don’t think we won’t listen to you.”
He looked around again and then found Roper.
“Mr. Roper, your work has got us this far. I know you can’t say for certain but do you think there could be several hostages in there, most likely held in the lower basement area?
Roper ran the idea through his Rainbow Spectrum. He was uncomfortable being the focus of so much attention but he needed to answer this question properly. After a pause he finally replied. “I think they could be in great danger. There is no reason why any hostages should be safe.”
The Major looked thoughtful for a while.
“I think, Detective Chief Inspector, we need to establish how much risk our leaders are willing to take. Once we get into that building it will take us a while to get down to the basement areas. That could be life or death for anyone being held there.”
Hooley nodded. “Good point Major. When I spoke to Julie Mayweather a short while ago, she mentioned that the Commissioner was insisting his new PR man sat in on the briefing. Apparently, they are anxious to keep a tight lid on this for now. They see this as an opportunity to show the Met is on top of security situations.”
The Major pulled a face.
“If there’s one lesson I’ve learned over the years, when PR people get involved in these sorts of situations then nothing good ever comes out of it. I imagine he will already be trying to think of reasons why, should something go wrong, it is all down to military stupidity.”
61
The surveillance vehicle was acting as the mobile command centre for the operation. Inside space was at a premium and Roper found himself squashed up against Hooley and one of the communications specialists. Ordinarily this close proximity to his fellow human beings would have made him jittery but he was intently focussed on the video feeds being played out on a set of three large monitors.
Fixed cameras were relaying scenes from the front and back of the house while more images were coming from the body cameras worn by the SAS and police SWAT teams. The military team was taking the lead and six troopers, dressed entirely in black, were on the roof of the target property. They had completed their preparations and were now waiting permission to begin. The Major’s voice sounded over their ear communicators. “Alpha Team. You are good to go on your command in 120 seconds from….now.”
All eyes were now on the roof as the countdown was in place. A minute in and Hooley had to nudge Roper, he was pretty sure his younger colleague was holding his breath in anticipation. The last thing he wanted was Roper passing out because of lack of oxygen.
After what seemed an age the SAS team was suddenly in action, seeming to move at an enhanced speed as they abseiled down the back of the building before smashing their way through the top floor windows. They disappeared inside. At the same time another pair of black-clad Special Forces operatives had dashed up to the gates of the underground car park and were carefully attaching a small amount of C-4 plastic explosive. The exact amount had been the subject of much vocal debate with more than one soldier making the observation “we only want to blow the bloody doors off,” a comment that always drew a smile. This had baffled Roper despite Hooley trying to explain it was a much loved movie line by Michael Caine.
Despite the concerns raised in the pre-raid preparation it was soon clear that the SAS team was not meeting any of the anticipated resistance inside the house. Instead they were racing down the internal stairs shouting “clear” as they checked each floor. Following behind them came the police SWAT team, going more slowly and carefully double checking each floor. It was a big house and offered multiple hiding places. They confirmed the property was empty at above ground level.
The SAS arrived at the ground floor just as the garage doors were “blown off”. Descending into the basement area they were on full alert, convinced this was where they were going to find the enemy and anybody being held hostage. The live feed from the body cameras showed the steady progress to the depths of the building.
But still there was no sign of opposition. It made the SAS team leader even more cautious as his men reached the lower basement area. They carefully fanned out around the car park before approaching the area where the six cells were located. The first room was empty as was the second and third. In the fourth was a young woman lying apparently lifeless on the floor. Even by the less than perfect camera images Roper was certain it was Tricia Williams. A sudden intake of breath by Hooley showed he had arrived at the same conclusion.
As they were digesting the distressing news the search of the house continued and within minutes the SAS team leader was confirming that there was no one in the property. One of his team had managed to check Tricia and reported he could detect faint signs of life. An SAS medic was racing to help and Hooley called for an ambulance. He was so angry he slammed his hand on the side of the van.
“How the bloody hell did they manage to escape? We’ve had eyes on this place for days and there was no sign of then pulling out. The only person we saw going in and out was that Tommy Burton character.”
He suddenly saw that Roper was sat on the pavement holding his head in his hands.
“Jonathan, what’s the matter?”
Roper kept his head in his hands. “This is my fault. I must have missed something. But I thought that with my Rainbow Spectrum I would see everything so easily. If I’d worked it out properly I would have saved Tricia Williams and this would be all over now.”
Hooley placed a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t give up on her yet Jonathan. And I don’t accept that this is only about you. We are all on the team so you mustn’t blame yourself. What we need to do now is to help you focus on finding these guys as quickly as possible.”
He hoped this last statement would persuade Roper to get back on the case but he was disappointed to see that the younger man remained sitting head down. Much as he wanted to stay and help him get over this crisis he still had a major investigation to run.
“Jonathan, I’ll be back as soon as I can but we need you on this. Don’t give up mate.”
62
Roper spent the next ten minutes sitting in silence as he wrestled with what had happened, before Major Phillips offered to talk to him. The DCI readily agreed. He remembered the way Roper had been so impressed with the man when he had first visited them. The Special Forces officer sat down next to Roper and after a moment of shared silence started telling him about the mistakes he had made, including two men who had been badly injured. No one, he explained, got it right all the time.
“The thing is Jonathan. You can sit on your arse and feel sorry for yourself or do something about it. In the end I realised I owed it to those who were hurt, to keep going and do my best to see the job through; you can’t just let go.”
Roper had carried on sitting there for a while longer and then looked up. “You’re saying it is selfish of me to blame myself because it’s making me stop working on the case and that is not going to help anyone.” He ran his fingers through his hair and let out deep breath. “I understand. If
I stop now I am making it about me, and that’s not what I want at all.”
The watching Hooley stifled a little cheer. He knew his man well enough to tell that he was back on the hunt. He patted both men on the shoulder and quietly admitted that while he was pleased that the Major had found a way to get through, he did wish he’s been able to do it himself.
But there was no time for that and they needed to crack on. He wanted Roper in that basement straight away. It was clear from a closer examination of the “cells” in the lower basement levels that a lot of people had been kept in them. There was also some medical equipment, some of it similar to what they had seen at DF Pharmaceuticals.
He followed Roper into the basement level where he spent almost an hour slowly working his way round the area, occasionally shouting out or tapping at the walls. Hooley was torn between wanting him to move faster and knowing he had to be left to work at his own pace. He did have to stop himself grinding his teeth in impatience.
Finally, Roper reached the cells pausing outside before entering and carefully examining each room. At the third door he recoiled as though he had been hit by something.
“I can clearly smell traces of sweat, blood and faeces in this one. It’s in the others too but much stronger in this one.”
Hooley stepped up and sniffed cautiously. He caught an unpleasant undertone but was unable to say what the smell was. Meanwhile, Roper had been taking a series of breaths, and then he inhaled deeply and walked into the cell. He tapped the rear wall, cocked his head and stared at it. He was so absorbed he started breathing normally. He pressed both hands on the left-hand side of the wall, about half-way down. It slid silently back to reveal a dark passage.
Going Underground (Jonathan Roper Investigates Book 1) Page 19
