by Colin Forbes
'And how do we prevent this happening?' Beaurain asked with a smile. Again for the benefit of everyone present.
'I can now tell you the SAS will be present on the Embankment. They may already be here, knowing them. They have perfected a new sophisticated mortar, very accurate. Practised on a remote lake in Scotland. First, a large rubber ball is fired, to gauge range and target position. Followed almost immediately by the firing of a powerful bomb, aimed to drop down the hatch. This will detonate the al-Qa'eda device inside the barge, blow it to smithereens.'
'Supposing the mortar bomb misses descending into the hatch?' Beaurain suggested.
'The SAS have a back-up team. Each barge is controlled and steered by the control room at the stern. In case of such an emergency another SAS unit will aim a long-distance rocket at the deckhouse. The barge will then be out of control. Impossible to continue steering it towards its target.' – 'This has been well thought out,' Beaurain commented., Tweed swivelled his gaze across his audience. He sensed rising tension. His next words would intensify that atmosphere.
'I am surprised no one has questioned the timing of the crisis. As yet, I'm sure you have not realized the catastrophe, the horror we seek to prevent. A catastrophe to make the terrible World Trade Center attack in New York seem like a tactical prelude.'
'Barges,' Paula told them. 'That's what poor Eddie, murdered in Monk's Alley, was showing us in his crude drawing. A barge. Tell us then,' she invited Tweed, 'about the timing.'
'I am sure it will be between 5 p.m. and 6 p.m. Say 5.30 p.m.'
'Oh, my God!' Paula gasped. 'Rush hour…'
'Exactly,' Tweed agreed. 'At that time each bridge is crammed with traffic – cars, buses, coaches transporting schoolchildren home from the various exhibitions I hear that they will be visiting, so the casualties would run into many thousands – the key to the al-Qa'eda plan. A spectacular atrocity on the largest scale they have achieved anywhere so far.'
He waited. A deathly silence had gripped his audience. They had grasped how much was at stake. Beaurain decided a little reassurance was called for.
'So we realize how vital it is to destroy those barges one by one before they reach their targets. Which we will do.'
'Monica.' Tweed called out, 'please pass round photocopies of the device drawn by Commissaire Beaurain with Paula's help. Also pass round photocopies of the picture Newman took from the hospital when the barge tilted, giving a clear view down inside the main hatch.'
He sipped a glass of water, still standing, while everyone examined the pictures. Paula stood up, moved from one person to another, explaining anything they were not clear on. The tension in his office was subsiding. Now everyone realized what was involved, their expressions became more determined, grimmer. Tweed found this reaction very satisfactory.
'I've grasped it,' Harry Butler called out in a calm voice. 'But what about the traffic on the bridges?'
'I wondered when someone would ask that question. There will not be any traffic on the bridges. There won't be any driving along the Embankment on either side of the river. In a moment Superintendent Buchanan will explain what he has planned. The SAS will be the key element in this operation. A large force will be based along the embankment.'
'Then what do we do?' Nield called out.
'You will also be situated at key points on the embankment. So that the SAS do not shoot you the special clothes you wore once before are waiting in the basement. The black clothing with a large "S" in white on the back. To identify you to the SAS. When I use the word "Embankment" I refer to the left bank looking downriver. Newman will place you later. That is why Harry has assembled a formidable armoury in the basement.'
'Our targets, please,' asked Nield. 'The barges?'
'No. Not the barges. We know the al-Qa'eda cell numbers at least thirty men, probably more. They will start out on board the barges. But when the dogfight starts – and when it does it will be ferocious – I expect men from the barges to try to reach the embankment. Possibly in motorized dinghies. They will be your targets.'
'Some of them suicide bombers?' suggested Paula.
'All of them suicide bombers, I suspect. You have to kill them before they get close to you. I checked with the SAS contact. "Take no prisoners?" I asked. "Of course," he replied.'
'Good,' said Newman.
'I now come to the worst part,' Tweed said. He paused. It was not something he liked to say but it had to be revealed. 'Earlier I named six bridges. The SAS can only save five of them with the resources at their command. One bridge must be allowed to go. That is Albert Bridge.'
There were gasps. Tweed looked very serous. He waited for the question he knew must come.
'But what about all the people who live near Albert Bridge?' Paula protested. 'Cheyne Walk and other areas nearby. Pieces of the blown bridge may hit their buildings.'
'I agree. I would now like to vacate the platform to Superintendent Buchanan. Among other factors he will explain how he is dealing with that problem. Roy, it is all yours.'
He left his desk and sidled his way to the chair Buchanan had vacated to occupy the chair behind the desk. Like Tweed he remained standing as he spoke, tersely in his clipped voice.
All residents near Albert Bridge were being evacuated. They were told a major gas explosion was expected, were being transferred to a number of hotels. He had already stopped the movement of traffic along either embankment, giving the same reason. A major gas explosion. His anti-terrorist squad would occupy the right bank, on the opposite side of the river to the SAS and the SIS. His men would be heavily armed. They would shoot to kill.
Traffic could move along the Strand, past Trafalgar Square and along the Mall. It would mean gridlock on a vast scale and many would not be able to return home that night. Where it was possible traffic would be diverted downriver to Blackfriars, Southwark, London and Tower Bridges and the Rotherhithe Tunnel. So some would get home, albeit rather late.
'What if one of the barges breaks through and reaches Blackfriars?' called out Nield.
'No barge will break through. If necessary it will be sunk by the SAS, using advanced missile launchers. Once this al-Qa'eda cell has been liquidated we can start guiding the traffic back over all bridges.' He paused. 'Except for Albert Bridge.'
He then answered a number of relevant questions before returning to his seat. Tweed stood up to occupy his desk seat when Harry also stood up, his voice powerful.
'Now, you useless lot, down to the basement with me to collect your weapons and ammo. You may get some sleep while you're waiting on the Embankment so we have stockpiled cushions. Don't ever think we don't look after you.'
'One more vital question,' Paula called out in a commanding voice which froze everyone where they were. 'Since Albert Bridge will also be closed to traffic, won't this al-Qa'eda scum notice the absence of traffic from the very start?'
'Good question,' Buchanan replied, standing still. 'Which is why we have arranged for a trustworthy firm dealing with old cars destined for the crusher to transport them on to Albert Bridge, placed on the upriver side. After that they'll be too busy concentrating on their evil work to notice anything odd elsewhere.'
As men filed out, following Harry, Tweed turned to Beaurain. He kept his voice low.
'Jules, I would appreciate it if you were by my side on the embankment. To start with we shall probably be perched on a statue's plinth to get a good view.'
'My pleasure…'
As they were speaking, and before anyone had left the office, Buchanan called out in his clear voice.
'Two more things and then I'll shut up. One, you will all be in radio contact with each other. Equipment waiting in the basement. Two, the BBC, all TV and radio stations, have been told not to broadcast any news bulletins after midday. They will play music, explaining this is due to a technical fault. Al-Qa'eda may well have small TV sets and radio on board the barges. I have sent policemen everywhere to make sure these instructions are carried out. Now I really
will shut up.. .'
Soon the only people left in the office were Tweed, Beaurain, Monica and Paula. Paula went close to Tweed, whispered.
'You must be tired. You must get sleep here before the SAS contact arrives back at noon.'
'Never felt more alert.'
43
At Dick's wharf Ali had checked the control rooms at the stern of each of the six barges twice. When the convoy sailed on its last voyage he would be on barge number five, the barge which would destroy Chelsea Bridge. He would be in constant radio communication with all the other barges. He also had a small TV set in the control room of that barge. He would see the BBC broadcast the frightful destruction he would wreak.
Bridges smashed, the Thames full of cars and other traffic which had fallen into the river, crammed with people -either already dead or the few who would drown. It would be high tide. For years North London would be severed from the south. But it was the thousands of casualties he looked forward most to seeing.
He descended to the interior where all his cell was assembled. They were kneeling on their prayer-mats, facing east. They rose up slowly as Ali stood on a crate to address them in Arabic.
'Allah is great,' he began. 'Allah is looking down on us to see our work on his behalf. You will all carry explosives strapped to your bodies. The enemy will also be driving along both sides of the river bank, on their way home. Their last drive. You know what to do? To those who survive?'
'We know,' one huge Saudi called out. 'We get into the craft and speed to the shores…'
Ali had been meticulous in checking motor-powered dinghies were arranged along the roll-over decks. His cell had forty men and he felt sure a large number would survive long enough to arrive on the embankments. Once there they would use their sub-machine guns to spray the slow-moving traffic.
'Then,' the Saudi continued, 'we slaughter as many infidels as we can before we rush at crowds of pedestrians, clasp them and detonate our bombs. The Embankment will flow with their blood.'
There were shouts of praise from the packed cell, standing in rows behind each other. Ali raised a hand and the shouts ceased. It was not that he didn't approve of their reaction. Ever cautious, he didn't think there was any risk of their shouts being heard in the nearby hospital, not with the main hatch being still closed, but he couldn't risk it. Below the closed hatch was a roped-off area. Inside it perched the first of six torpedo shells, crammed with explosive, aimed to pass easily through the main hatch and then strike the central span. Beside it stood two men – one to press the button to activate the bomb, the second man to press the button which would send it winging its way upwards.
Ali, very athletic, shinned up the ladder (soon to be removed) and ran along the deck to the bows. Here they had placed a smaller bomb, the barrel of the launcher angled. This would be fired as soon as Nebuchadnezzar, the name of the main bomb, had been sent on its terrible way.
The smaller bomb at the bows would be aimed at the support struts of the bridge, to ensure the entire bridge collapsed. It was a refinement aboard all six barges – and something the defenders on the river banks were unaware of.
44
Dawn was a placid series of pink streaks in the east. The weather forecast was for a brilliant sunny day, the first for weeks, with temperatures still very low. Newman was behind the wheel of the four-wheel-drive taking his passengers – Paula by his side with Tweed and Beaurain in the rear seats – down to the Embankment.
'Which route are you taking?' Paula asked, by now completely lost.
'Any which way,' he replied. 'To avoid early morning traffic already building up. Buchanan has already closed the bridges and both sides of the embankment.'
They wended their way down side streets Paula had never known existed. Behind them followed three more four-wheel-drives. One contained Harry, driving, with all the murderous equipment piled into the vehicle, covered with canvas.
Behind him Nield drove with Sarge, well-muffled, beside him. The rear of the vehicle was packed with more weaponry, also concealed under canvas. This consignment was for the SAS and Sarge had put it aboard himself. All that Nield could see of Sarge was his eyes and his mouth, above and below a scarf.
Characteristically, the fourth vehicle was driven by Marler, who was by himself. His four-wheel-drive was also transporting more SAS equipment. Again the equipment was concealed by a canvas sheet. On the seat by his side rested an Armalite rifle, Marler's favourite weapon. He still held the legend of being the finest marksman in Western Europe.
Suddenly they were on the Embankment. Paula sucked in her breath. She had never seen the Embankment look like this before. She reflected she'd never see this sight again.
No traffic. No pedestrians. Westminster Bridge had been deserted. Dawn shed its spectacular light on the fast-moving Thames heading upriver. It was like something out of of a dream. The peace, the silence, only broken by the swish of the incoming tide splashing against the walls.
'It's high tide,' she said.
'Not yet,' Newman corrected. 'That's at 5.30 p.m.'
'So al-Qa'eda has chosen its attack time well.'
'It has,' he agreed. 'Tweed is convinced the same man planned September 11 in New York, the Trade Center tragedy. He's also convinced the mastermind is not an Arab. He's American or an Englishman.'
'Or a woman,' she said again.
She studied the map of the river Tweed had handed to her just before the vehicles left Park Crescent. At the head it was marked TOP SECRET. He told her Sarge had handed him this map on his first visit to Park Crescent.
'The blue circles show where we will be stationed at our firing points,' she remarked. 'The red ones are SAS firing points. Sarge must have recced this area in the middle of the night.'
'He did.'
Newman was driving at a moderate speed. He glanced in his rear-view mirror. The other three vehicles were strung out at intervals behind him. Paula stared across the river at the opposite bank. No sign of Buchanan's anti-terrorist squad, but she knew they would be there.
'We're about to pass an SAS firing-point,' she warned.
Newman glanced to his left. Beyond the pavement reared up a wall, a viewing platform almost invisible, surrounded by massed trees without foliage. Sarge had chosen well, but he would. Thirty yards past it he parked, leaving his engine running.
'Look back,' he said.
Vehicle No. 3, driven by Nield with Sarge by his side, had stopped. Four masked men with black caps and clothes had appeared from nowhere. They unloaded Nield's vehicle while Sarge supervised. Some of the equipment looked very heavy. Tweed spoke for the first time as he gazed back.
'Superbly well organized.'
Beaurain had also turned in his seat to look. His gaze was critical. Suddenly the vehicle was emptied. The masked men, some disguised for night with blackened faces, had vanished. So had all the equipment, some of it clearly very heavy.
'Incredibly professional,' Beaurain remarked. 'And they have camouflaged the jeeps brilliantly.'
'The jeeps?' Paula queried.
'Well,' Beaurain explained, 'they will start being positioned at that point to protect Waterloo Bridge. Once their work is done there they have to drive back like mad along the deserted embankment to reinforce the unit stationed further upriver. You'll find in a minute we also have jeeps.'
Harry, in vehicle No. 2, had paused while this part of the preparations took place. As Newman drove on so did Harry. Paula stared once more at the growing dawn, a spectrum of pink and blue and green. She wished she'd brought a camera to record the glorious sight.
Newman seemed to read her mind. Using one hand to drive, he delved under his windcheater with the other. When it emerged it was holding a small camera. He handed it to Paula.
'In case you need it.'
'Bless you.'
She took six shots of the dawn just before day came and the spectacle was replaced by a clear blue sky. She purred.
'I could kiss you.'
'Not now.
Keep your eye on the map.'
'Sorry. Slow down. I think we're almost there.'
Newman pulled up alongside a location where a statue of a man on a horse was perched on a huge plinth well back from the pavement, shrouded by a mass of leafless trees. Tweed jumped out first, clambered up to the plinth, took out a pair of field-glasses and scanned the river. Paula had hauled herself up behind him, followed by Beaurain and Newman. To their surprise vehicle No. 3 had arrived and Sarge leapt up to join them on the plinth.
'From here,' said Tweed, 'we can disable the first barge and protect not only Waterloo Bridge but Hungerford Bridge, which carries all the trains from Charing Cross.'
'If we succeed,' said Nield, who had joined them.
'When we succeed,' growled Sarge.
Vehicle No. 2, driven by Harry, had parked below them. His voice expressed frustration.
'You lazy lot up there. Get down here and help me bring up the weaponry. Now!'
Sarge took control. He lay down on the edge of the plinth and issued the order.
'All of you go down, fetch equipment, hand it to me. It will save time clambering up the plinth. We must keep moving.'
Paula was the first to reach the vehicle. Harry handed her a sub-machine gun, a satchel of ammo. She insisted she could take two guns. Scrambling with her burden up to the base of the plinth, she handed one weapon, then another, then the ammo satchel to Sarge, who grasped them in his hands, laid them behind him on the plinth. She was surprised at his great strength.
When all the weapons were delivered they were covered with heavy canvas to conceal them. All except Sarge were perspiring when they had completed the job. Paula stood on the plinth as she asked the question.
