The Nationalist

by Campbell Hart

  “Hi John, this is a real mess.”

  Arbogast nodded, “It’s not nice to see. How difficult is this going to be for you?”

  “It should be relatively straight forward to identify people as we know exactly who was here. We have live footage showing exactly where they were standing. Presumptive tests for 14 separate blood types, swabs across the affected area – which you can see is pretty extensive – as well as our background swabs will take time. We won’t be able to move the bodies until much later. It might even be early morning before we can do all the tests required. I feel sorry for the lab guys as the volume of sampling is going to be pretty overwhelming.”

  Arbogast nodded, “It’s tough all round, Kath. Does it look like our bomber was working alone?”

  “I don’t know but the blast pattern would suggest so. The fact that he walked into the middle of a relatively enclosed area meant that the impact against the walls, statues, and central column all intensified the blast. I can’t say at this point what he was carrying but the fact it took so many people out, indicates military grade explosives. I would certainly be surprised if this turned out to be a home grown fertiliser job. This guy knew what he was doing. Do you know much about him?”

  “Not yet, but we do know he had an agenda. I just don’t know why he’d do this – what it was he expected to achieve.”

  In the background Arbogast could see that the main body of the investigation unit had arrived. About six men and women were changing into the regulation white suits, masks, gloves, and distinctive blue shoes which would help to minimise contamination.

  “I see your guys are here now, so I’ll let you get on with it. But you’ve got my number, Kath. If anything comes up—”

  “—yeah, yeah John, you’ll be the first person I phone.”

  “I’m serious.”

  “I know. Now do me a favour and fuck off.”

  “Thanks.”

  “You’re most welcome.”

  Arbogast knew his time would be best spent back at Pitt Street where a Major Incident Team was already in place. It was 3:00pm. Just four hours had passed since the incident but it already felt like days into the investigation. He could feel his phone vibrate against his chest and reached in to answer the call.

  “Arbogast.”

  “John, it’s Ian Davidson,” Arbogast’s heart sank. Davidson generally went out of his way to make his life difficult.

  “Hello Ian – what’s new?”

  “You better come back to base. We’ve found out some interesting information about our elder statesman.”

  8

  The debrief room at Pitt Street was packed. Given the size of the investigation there was standing room only. There was a loud buzz of chatter, with conspiratorial huddles leaking conflicting theories about what may or may not have happened in the square. It couldn’t have been just one old guy, could this be the start of something bigger; could it be linked to the wars in the Middle East? All agreed, however, that whoever was responsible would be caught. Norrie Smith entered the room and the chat stopped. Arbogast leaned against the wall on the west side of the room.

  “Good afternoon. You know why we’re here,” He paused, “This afternoon the city experienced its worst ever peacetime attack. A lot of people have died, including some pretty high profile individuals, while many more were wounded. I’m sure that I don’t need to stress the gravity of this situation. There is international interest in this case which will not be going away any time soon. Closer to home each and every one of us is under intense pressure from both the UK and Scottish Governments. No-one wants this to happen again and we need to try to make sure that it doesn’t. I know we are all up to our eyes at the moment but I think it is worthwhile to take stock of what we know so far. We’ll start with the video evidence. DI Davidson from Major Crime has more on that. You might be surprised by what you’re about to see.”

  Ian Davidson stood up from his front row seat and pressed a button on a laptop behind the lectern at the front of the room. The large flat screen TV flickered into life on the back wall. They were looking at a freeze frame of the memorial service.

  “What you’re looking at is about 30 seconds before the explosion. The two minute silence is already underway. You can see the banner men all have their association and regimental flags lowered with the tips touching the ground,” A line of about twelve men stood in a line with their flags, dressed in regimental uniforms, representing Army, RAF, and Royal Navy. “This is the point our man steps out from the crowd,” Ian pressed a button on the mobile clicker and the footage began, “He walks out from behind the banner men, steps on the Union Flag which is draped over the concourse, and then slowly makes his way over to the Cenotaph. There are about 250 people standing in that section. As you can see they’re almost exclusively ex-services, and as a mark of respect they’re mostly all looking at the ground; apart from this guy,” Ian pointed at a heavy set man in his sixties, with a full, white beard. He wore a commando beret, with half a dozen medals pinned to the right breast of his navy blazer, “Do you see him, our own Mr Magpie? He’s looking right at Jock, never takes his eyes off him. And he’s saluting him. Here’s our man, Jock, practically dragging himself to the Cenotaph, and no-one really knows what’s going on at this point. He walks onto the middle of the enclosure and then the provost comes over to help. She thinks he’s overwhelmed; and that’s when the first explosion goes off.”

  This caused a stir with whispered conversations starting in waves around the room. Ian tried to contain a smile. He loved the drama. Norrie Smith didn’t, “Be quiet and listen – this is important – you can chat later.”

  “Thanks,” Ian nodded at Norrie and carried on, “Jock puts his hand in his right outside overcoat pocket. At this time we can only assume this is where the detonator must be – a switch perhaps, or maybe some kind of release valve.” He pressed pause and stopped the footage, “When the explosion goes off we lose the footage from the TV crew. However there is a CCTV camera on the top of the Visit Glasgow bureau. The camera was far enough away not to have been damaged. They got in touch with us to ask if we wanted to see the footage. Here it is.”

  The new film was taken from a different angle and wasn’t of the same quality. The crystal sharp image of the TV crew was replaced by a slightly pixelated image taken from the fourth floor of a 1930s art deco block on the south side of the square, furthest away from the blast zone. From that vantage point you could see the whole concourse. In the distance they turned their focus on the man’s slow progress, while the rest of the square stood still.

  “That’s Jock. In a second we’ll see the blast...yes there we go.” For a second the explosion dominated the frame. A sharp white light filled the space which had previously belonged to Jock Smith. The blast wreaked destruction on the surrounding crowd. As Arbogast scanned the room he could see a number of people wince. He’d seen enough for one day. “But if you look right here,” Ian pointed again to a space just beside the lion which dominated the left hand side of the enclosure, “You will see something else entirely,” Ian pressed rewind, play, then pause, “Right there we have a second explosion.” Arbogast could see he was right. Watching through the film again he could see that what they had thought was a single blast was in fact two, almost simultaneous explosions. “This was not one man acting alone. There were at least two people involved, which would lead us to believe—“

  “—which would lead us to believe that was are dealing with an organised group,” Norrie Smith looked worried, “A group we have previously never heard of, a group which can enlist UK veterans, and which has the nerve to target an event being filmed for live broadcast. Needless to say the threat is being taken extremely seriously.”

  Whitehall, London

  The meeting of Cabinet Office Briefing Room A (COBRA) had been called shortly after the news filtered through. The Prime Minister chaired the meeting, with representations from the Justice Department, Home Office, Scotland Office, MI5, and
the Serious Organised Crime Agency (SOCA). Urban myth, harking back to WW2, placed the COBRA meetings in a secure basement, but in reality they took place on the first floor at 70 Whitehall. The room was small but fit for purpose. A large teak boardroom table dominated the space. It was fitted with microphones placed at strategic points close to the 22 seats allocated for this session. The far wall was made up of a large TV screen with stretched the width of the room. The screen was split in two and featured the faces of acting Chief Constable, Norrie Smith, on the left hand side, and the First Minister on the right.

  “This meeting’s been called in the wake of the events in Glasgow. Although we appreciate this is primarily a matter for the Scottish authorities to deal with, information we are seeing at a national level suggests this may be a further reaching problem.” The Prime Minister knew this was an opportunity to present the UK Government as the most senior authority on security. If handled properly the incident could go some way against countering growing support for the independence movement. “GCHQ indicates there have been increased levels of internet traffic looking at Al Qaida linked sites, including several strands leading to residential properties in Scotland.”

  The three men on the screens watched as the monologue continued, “We will offer any additional support needed to staff this incident. We have already canvassed opinion from the regional police headquarters. In London the Met say they’ll make 50 officers available immediately. In the short term we’ll be ramping up security at all international airports with armed police on hand. Security at check-in counters will be tightened, with enhanced searches carried out on all passengers. Restriction zones will be set up around all entrances. No traffic will be allowed within 50 metres of the main gates. These measures will be temporary but while the alert is raised to red we cannot take chances.”

  “This all seems rather over the top,” The First Minister was unimpressed, “We’ve seen this kind of thing come in before – the indications we’ve had from the scene is that this is not an Al Qaida style attack. We seem to be dealing with former servicemen. If anything I think it is more likely to be a protest against British foreign policy than a revenge attack.”

  “This is hardly the time for party politics.”

  “You’re right, it’s not; but all the same, here we are.”

  “We will work together on this. I trust Mr Smith here is confident in his team.” Norrie was about to speak but was cut off by the First Minister, “I have confidence in my team. If we get to the point where results are not apparent we have the flexibility to change.”

  The meeting continued for another hour but nothing was said that made Norrie Smith feel any more secure. His job had been on the line for sometime but it seemed he now only had a matter of days to make a new name for himself. The evidence was only starting to come through but it seemed as if an organised group was behind the attack. The only problem was they didn’t know who or why. In the meantime they would have to make the most of the available evidence.

  Lochgelly, Fife

  Arbogast had been despatched to the east coast after a tip had come through to Major Crime from GCHQ. A series of what they were calling ‘pre-planned operations’ were taking place across the country. GCHQ had provided a number of leads which had been fleshed out through their American counterparts at the National Security Agency. The NSA identified rogue web browsing through its Prism software which accessed data from Internet Service Providers. These turned the spotlight on suspected terror activity in Britain. Prior to the attack all the cases had been deemed low risk but as things stood, nothing was being taken for granted.

  Arbogast had been seconded to the Edinburgh based Counter Terrorism division for the operation in Lochgelly. Armed police units had cordoned off both ends of Gordon Street and were looking to detain their suspect from number 31a.

  The house itself was part of a block of four flats. 31a formed the bottom main door entrance to the building. A flight of steps on the outside of the house led up to 31b on the upper floor. The unit had posted armed officers at front and back of the building. Arbogast rang the doorbell.

  “Police Scotland; open the door now,” he shouted. After about 30 seconds it was clear there would be no response. Arbogast motioned to an officer behind him to proceed with the enforcer battering ram. He stood aside as his colleague swung the red metal tool behind him and swung into the door at the point where the lock met the door frame. The wood cracked and splintered before the door gave way and bounced open. It smashed off a telephone table and rebounded back off the arm of the third man through the door. They searched the building but found nothing.

  Outside at the back of the garden, 16 year old Arun Khan sat, half dressed, watching pornography on his ipad. Taking refuge in the garden shed, he was unaware of the operation outside. He clicked off the tablet and laid it to one side, wiping sperm from his belly with a soiled towel. Taking the headphones off he could hear what sounded like a fight in the street outside. The smell of weed killer, grass, and dried wood filled his lungs as he stood up and pulled his t-shirt back on. When he opened the door he could see the words ‘Police Scotland’ written on the back of a black uniform. Shit, they’ve found my stash. He decided his best bet was to run. Seeing there was no way to get past the officers to the street he dragged himself over the brick wall which divided his street from the back gardens of Timmons Park. He thought he heard someone shout ‘Stop’ when a searing pain shot through his left shoulder blade.

  9

  BBC News Channel

  “Earlier today this normally peaceful town became embroiled in a major terrorism operation. Here on Gordon Street residents are being kept away and the road, as you can see behind me, remains a no-go area.” Sandy Stirrit had been sent to Fife after a neighbour had posted a short video showing the Lochgelly operation on Twitter, which had since gone viral. The footage had now been obtained by the Corporation and was being played-in on a split screen. “Details at this time remain vague. We do know that a young man has been taken to the Queen Victoria Hospital in Dunfermline. We understand he’s being treated for a gunshot wound and has been detained under Section 2 of the Terrorism Act. Section 2 deals with the dissemination of terrorist publications. The detailed breakdown would mean this arrest concerns either,” Sandy looked down to read directly from notes, “That the suspect ‘intends an effect of his conduct to be a direct or indirect encouragement or other inducement to the commission, preparation or instigation of acts of terrorism’ or that he ‘intends an effect of his conduct to be the provision of assistance in the preparation of such acts.’ Clearly coming so close to the attack in Glasgow speculation is linking today’s events in Lochgelly with the wider investigation. My understanding is that several similar raids have been taking place across Scotland today with no fewer than 17 people detained. I would have to stress that all other operations passed without incident. We are also getting reports that security has been stepped up at airports, ports, and at border controls. We’re being contacted by people saying passengers are being detained for no apparent reason. The Terrorism Act would allow for such actions. Section 7 states that individuals can be detained without prior suspicion for up to nine hours. Lest we be in any doubt about the graveness of the situation we have just been told that the death toll from Glasgow has now risen to 15, with a further victim having died from their injuries in Glasgow’s Royal Infirmary. Police Scotland are at this point giving no further details, although I understand a press call will be held later today where we should find out more detail about exactly what has happened here; back to the studio.”

  From the side of the road Arbogast watched his friend in action on camera. Having been a radio reporter for many years, Sandy was now becoming a familiar face on UK TV, following his promotion to one of the network correspondents covering Scotland. This was his biggest story. Watching as Sandy took the earpiece off and had the tape which concealed the sound cable peeled from his back by the producer, Arbogast reasoned that public expec
tations around the case would only intensify. In reality there was nothing much he could do about press reports. It was a serious case and at this point they had nothing much to go on. He was concerned about the rise in security as it seemed to be hitting the wrong people. More than 100 holiday makers had been stopped at airports. It seemed the majority were those who ‘looked’ most like terrorists, with passengers heading back to the Middle East the ones most likely to be held back. Meanwhile a number of apparently racist attacks had been spreading, with shops targeted and family business owners intimidated. Arbogast knew it was wrong but the public mood was not looking for an easy option. The top brass needed to be seen to be doing something, but so far the things they were doing were only serving to make things worse. People were looking for scapegoats and the finger of blame was being pointed at the wrong people. Looking up he saw Sandy walking over. They were divided by the blue and white plastic Police tape which swung in the wind across Gordon Street.

  “Did this guy have anything to do with Glasgow?”

  “I don’t know Sandy. We’re acting on intelligence from MI5. That’s all I can say just now. For your information he’ll be OK. The marksman knew where to shoot. He was trying to get away so the operation went to plan. We’ll know more soon.”

  “I hope you guys know what you’re doing. The backlash is already starting to build. Is it really wise to pin this on Islamic extremists—”