East of Hounslow

by Khurrum Rahman

  ‘The suspect asked me if I was Kingsley Parker‚ so it’s clear that he doesn’t know you personally. Therefore‚ Qasim must have talked. It looks like just the date has been moved forward. Judging by the time and location of the arrest I don’t think anything else has changed. If we work on that basis‚ then the attack is to take place in fifty minutes. We have to assume that it will be at the planned locations and that there will still be two teams of two coming in from either end of Oxford Street and one team of three coming in from Poland Street. The forth team has been neutralised. One man down and the other arrested.’

  ‘One of the teams includes Jay‚’ Parker pointed out.

  ‘I know‚’ Lawrence sighed. ‘Look Parker‚ we are going to have armed cops all over the street; they don’t know about Qasim. I don’t know to what extent he is playing terrorist‚ but if they see him waving a gun around‚ he’s going down.’

  ‘We need to start the evacuation.’ Parker moved away from the subject. He wanted to argue‚ to put measures in place so that the police were aware of Jay‚ but it was a losing battle‚ a battle he didn’t have time for.

  ‘Already on it‚ evac is underway as we speak. But there are approximately fifty thousand shoppers and we have less than an hour. It’s going to be full-blown pandemonium.’

  Parker closed his eyes and visualised a mass stampede‚ shoppers trampling over each other to get to safety.

  ‘They won’t get out in time.’

  ‘Armed police are gearing up‚ we have neighbouring police stations releasing bodies‚ we’re going to flood the street.’

  ‘Okay‚ good work Lawrence.’

  ‘Look‚ Parker. We could be completely wrong with the times and locations. But until you have spoken to the suspect‚ we won’t know.’

  82

  12.12 p.m.

  ‘I can see the car park‚’ Irfan said.

  ‘Where?’ Yasir asked‚ frustrated as he looked through the windscreen at the standstill in front of him on Upper St Martin’s Lane.

  ‘Far right‚ yellow sign‚ NCP in big‚ black writing.’

  ‘Yes‚ I see it‚ Irfan.’ Yasir released some frustration‚ but not all.

  ‘We are one step closer to our goal. Just have to park the van‚ a short walk and maybe a ten-‚ fifteen-minute wait.’ Irfan smiled at the thought. ‘It’s happening‚ Brother. All our hard work and dedication is about to be realised.’

  ‘I wish I shared your enthusiasm‚’ Yasir said‚ looking at the traffic. ‘We haven’t moved in a long while.’

  ‘It’s just Boxing Day traffic‚ it will move. We have time on our side.’

  ‘I don’t know‚’ Yasir frowned. ‘This is something else. I think there has been an accident. That traffic light has changed to green over a dozen times and not one car has passed through.’

  ‘What do you suggest?’

  Yasir looked at his watch. ‘We’re not going to make it for one.’

  ‘We must. We will‚ Inshallah.’

  They could hear the wail of the emergency services getting louder but they could not determine the emergency. The lights turned green‚ Yasir‚ hopefully‚ slipped the Van into first‚ even though they were fifteen cars away from the lights. The car at the front did not move. The lights turned amber‚ then back to red.

  ‘We have to adapt and improvise‚’ Yasir said.

  ‘Yes… How?’

  ‘I want you to go to the holding point.’

  ‘No. We go together‚ Brother. Allah will get us there on time.’

  Yasir smiled. ‘Even the mighty Allah has no power over the unpredictable London traffic.’

  ‘I don’t understand‚ what about you?’ Irfan suddenly seemed daunted‚ carrying out the attack without his big brother by his side.

  ‘I am going to turn the van around‚ there was a pay-and-display about a mile back‚ I will try my luck there. If not‚ I will park on a double yellow if I have to and join you.’

  ‘Let’s just leave the van here in traffic. Then we can go together.’

  Yasir shook his head. ‘It’s too risky. It will be noticed. We will be noticed.’

  ‘I’m not going without you‚ Brother.’

  Yasir reached across past Irfan and opened the passenger side door.

  ‘I’ll be there. I promise. Now go.’

  83

  12.15 p.m.

  ‘Jay‚’ Parvez said. ‘You’re taking too long.’

  ‘What the hell do you want me to do?’ I snapped at him‚ as if the fucking traffic was my fault. ‘Anyway‚ we’re only down the road from Oxford Street.’

  ‘Do you have an A to Z?’

  ‘Yes‚ Parvez‚ I have an A to Z‚ in fact I have a whole set of encyclopaedias up my arse.’

  ‘Why do you have to be so crass?’

  ‘Well‚ don’t ask me stupid questions. No‚ I do not have an A to Z.’

  ‘We need to find somewhere to dump the car.’

  We had been inching through Regent Street. I looked out of the driver’s-side window at Hamleys Toy Store. It was rammed full of kids and overwhelmed parents. There were Christmas green elves lined up outside‚ showcasing the latest toys. Imagine having to wear that outfit to work. Imagine dying in it.

  We were supposed to park in the NCP on Cavendish Square‚ but on approach we noticed a lot of police presence‚ so we moved right on past it. I was tempted to jump out of the car and spill my guts to the cops but that would have unhinged Parvez and with his current mindset‚ he was capable of doing anything. I had only one option and that was to phone Parker‚ somehow. I had looked out for phone boxes throughout our journey from the unit‚ but thanks to the mobile phone era they seemed to be few and far between. The ones that I did see were not easily accessible without going off track and raising suspicion. I still had over thirty minutes before it kicked off and to my relief I noticed a phone box across the road from Hamleys.

  I had to be very careful with how I was going to present this to Parvez.

  ‘You know‚ Parvez‚’ I said. ‘I’m glad that I am doing this with you.’

  ‘I am too‚ Jay. I had my doubts about you. But the way that you have proved yourself in the face of—’

  ‘Listen‚ I want to do something.’ I interrupted before he went off on one. Time was of the essence.

  ‘What?’ He said‚ looking slightly aggrieved at being cut short.

  ‘I want to phone my mum.’

  ‘There’s no way.’

  ‘Parvez‚ listen‚ we have over thirty minutes‚ and we’re just down the road from our destination. There’s a phone box just across the road.’ I pointed over his shoulder. He didn’t even bother to look. ‘Look‚ man‚ I don’t know where we will be after this is over‚ or what is next for us. You’ve had a chance to say goodbye to your mum‚ I want to do the same.’

  He didn’t respond. I took off my seatbelt. His head darted towards me‚ his eyes questioning me.

  ‘Just take over the wheel. I’m going to nip across the road‚ make a quick call to Mum and I’ll meet you back in traffic. Two minutes‚ three tops.’

  ‘I’m sorry‚’ he said‚ looking anything but sorry. ‘I can’t allow that.’

  ‘What the fuck’s that supposed to mean?’ I snapped. ‘Who put you in charge? I’m going to phone my Mum.’ I said reaching for the door handle.

  ‘I said‚ I can’t allow that.’ His Glock rested just under my ribs.

  I released the handle and put both my hands back on the steering wheel.

  ‘Put your seatbelt on‚’ he instructed.

  ‘Fuck off‚’ I hissed. The Glock dug deeper into me. I put my seatbelt on. ‘Unbelievable‚ Parvez. Brother! Truly un-fucking-believable. This is how you going to play me‚ huh? You pull a fucking piece on me?’

  ‘Be quiet.’

  ‘What you going to do? Shoot me?’

  ‘Yes‚’ he said‚ coldly. ‘Take this next left. Do it now.’ I pointed the car out of traffic and turned into a quie
t side road. ‘Park the car.’

  ‘It’s a double yellow‚’ I said weakly. I parked the car and killed the engine. He kept his eyes and gun trained on me as he fished out the cocaine from his pocket. He tried‚ unsuccessfully‚ to pry open the zip lock bag with one hand. He handed it over to me.

  ‘Open it‚’ he said

  ‘You don’t have to do this‚ Parvez‚’ I said‚ opening the bag and handing it back to him.

  ‘It will help me stay sharp. Allah will forgive.’ And then‚ like the complete fuckwit that he is‚ he stuck his nose in the opening of the bag and sniffed the contents‚ through both nostrils‚ at the same time.

  ‘That’s not what I meant. We can walk away‚’ I said‚ softly‚ finally giving away my hand.

  We locked eyes‚ and in that moment I watched as his eyes narrowed. A small‚ righteous‚ I knew it‚ smile appeared on his face.

  ‘Get in the back.’

  ‘Seriously‚ Parvez. Let’s not do this. You have your whole life—’

  ‘You didn’t notice‚ Jay. But you know what I just did?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I just flicked the safety off the Glock.’ He sniffed. ‘Now get in the back.’

  I took off my seatbelt and climbed into the backseat. He turned his body to face me‚ his Glock steady‚ his eyes wild. His smile bigger than I had ever seen.

  ‘I always knew you were weak‚ Jay. I always knew. The problem is you don’t care‚ not enough‚ not like I do‚ Brother. You may have fooled the Imam into believing that you were destined to become some sort of great jihadi. You almost fooled me. But in my heart‚ I knew.’

  ‘You didn’t know shit‚ you twisted fuck.’

  He lifted his gun so that it was pointing at my head. I flinched.

  ‘You know how I feel about your language‚ Jay.’ The coke had taken over him fully. ‘There’s a latch in the back seat‚ lift it‚ pull the back seat down and get in the boot.’

  84

  12.21 p.m.

  Parker walked through Oxford Circus station‚ into an area normally closed off to anyone but staff. He glanced into a large room which was brimming with MI5 and Met personnel‚ waiting impatiently as the IT guys set up workstations and network points. He didn’t enter and was instead led to a room with two armed guards waiting outside and Lawrence pacing in front of them.

  ‘Thank Christ!’ Lawrence exclaimed. ‘Go.’

  Parker flashed his credentials at the two agents guarding the room and they stepped to one side. Parker entered the room alone. The suspect had his head down‚ resting on his cuffed hands on the table. Parker shut the door behind him. The suspect lifted his head.

  ‘Kingsley Parker?’ He asked‚ tiredly. As though he had asked that question a hundred times.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Prove it.’

  ‘I believe we have a mutual friend. Javid Qasim.’

  Akhtar straightened up in his chair and beamed at him. ‘What’s happening‚ Bruv?’

  Parker did not know how to answer that‚ so he answered the question with a question of his own.

  ‘What’s your name?’

  ‘Akhtar.’ Akhtar answered. Parker didn’t have to know his full name. Jay had already provided full names of the group.

  ‘Right‚ Akhtar. I don’t wish to appear rude. But I am going to ask you some questions‚ questions which will require very short answers. Understand?’

  ‘Yes.’ Akhtar smiled‚ passing the first test.

  ‘Is the attack going to take place today instead of New Years Day?’

  ‘How do you know about New Years—’

  ‘Just answer the question‚ Akhtar.’

  ‘Jay…’ It dawned on Akhtar. ‘That Brother was undercover‚ yeah? I knew there was something about him. Something different.’

  ‘Akhtar. Look at me. Focus and just answer the damn questions.’

  Akhtar nodded. Parker waited.

  ‘What was the question again?’

  Parker was a heartbeat away from beating the hell out of this guy.

  ‘Is the attack going to take place today instead of New Years Day?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘What time?’

  ‘One p.m.’

  ‘Are the holding points the same as they would have been on—’

  ‘Look‚ Bruv. Everything is the same‚ the time‚ the location‚ the holding points. Just the dates have changed‚ yeah?’

  That was all the confirmation that Parker required‚ he spun on his heels and turned the door handle‚ but before opening the door he turned back to Akhtar and asked‚ ‘Why did you shoot your partner?’

  ‘He wasn’t my partner‚ he was my Brother‚ yeah?’

  ‘Why did you shoot him‚ Akhtar?’

  ‘Because I didn’t want him to kill any more people.’ Parker nodded and walked out of the room.

  ‘And?’ Lawrence was on him.

  ‘It’s confirmed.’

  Lawrence took out his mobile and made the call.

  ‘We have confirmation‚ relay message to all teams‚ we have confirmation. Seven targets will be in place as briefed.’ He said.

  Six targets. Parker thought.

  Lawrence killed the call and wiped the sweat off his forehead. ‘Let’s go.’

  ‘Where?’

  ‘They’ve set up an operations room‚ we’ll have live updates. There’s nothing more we can do.’

  ‘I need a vest and a gun.’ Parker said. ‘I’m going out there.’

  85

  12.30 p.m.

  I was tempted‚ if I’m honest. Just to curl up into a ball in the boot of the Ford Mondeo and rest. Let the good guys‚ whoever they were‚ fight the bad guys‚ whoever they were‚ and leave me the fuck to be.

  All I had to do was close my eyes and wish the world away.

  Though‚ you know me by now. I’ve changed a bit. A lot. No longer was I that ignorant drug dealer from the happy streets of Hounslow. What I was now was something that I would have never contemplated. I was a… I don’t know‚ but something‚ someone. Able to make a difference‚ do something right.

  I had to make my move.

  Parvez had taken too much coke for a first timer‚ and I could tell from his muffled voice‚ from my position in the boot‚ that he was hopped up and raring to go. But in that state he was bound to make mistakes. Which he had. He had left me in possession of both my Glock and AK47‚ in the boot of a car which was less than two years old. Most new cars‚ as a safety precaution‚ have an internal latch inside the boot‚ just in case your mate traps you in there while he goes out on a killing spree.

  I waited for him to leave. I figured that I could have pulled the latch at any point and escaped‚ but that would have unsettled him further. I listened to him pray loudly‚ as if he wanted me to hear. He repeatedly asked Allah for forgiveness and strength. The car door opened and shut. I heard the click of the central locking. I was ready. Then another click of the central locking‚ the car door opening again‚ some rustling around‚ a loud sniff. Then the car door shut and then another click. I counted sixty seconds in my head and felt my way around the inside of the boot for the latch. I pulled it towards me and the boot door lifted. A middle aged man watched me rise up‚ a half smoked cigarette wastefully dropping from his lips. I stepped out.

  ‘I need to borrow your phone‚’ I said.

  He didn’t indicate a yes or a no and I didn’t have time to waste‚ so I reached into my pocket and pulled out the Glock and trained it on him.

  ‘I need to borrow your phone‚ mate.’ I said‚ and as an after thought. ‘Please.’ He stood frozen‚ and what had seemed like a good idea at the time just ended up delaying things. So I slipped the Glock back in my coat pocket and went through his coat‚ searching for his phone.

  I took out his iPhone and swiped the home screen‚ only to be confronted with a pin code.

  ‘Oh‚ for fucks sake‚’ I snapped. ‘Pin number? I need your pin number.’


  He mouthed it at me. Sirens blared somewhere close behind me and it seemed to shake him out of his state.

  ‘One two three four‚’ he said‚ again. I wanted to tell him off for having such a lax security code‚ but I didn’t have time. I tapped the code then dialled Parker’s number.

  ‘Mate‚ really sorry‚ but I gotta take your phone. Take my advice‚ get as far away as possible. Tell everyone‚ get the hell out of here. Some serious shit is about to go down.’

  I removed my puffer jacket‚ and flung it in a rubbish skip along with both weapons‚ and walked away towards Regents Street. Parker answered the phone.

  ‘Parker.’

  ‘Jay.’

  ‘It’s happening‚ today. Not New Years Day. Today. At 1 p.m. Parker? Parker?’

  ‘Jay‚ we know. I am here on location. Tell me yours.’

  ‘I’m approaching Regents Street‚ then making my way onto Oxford Street. I have to stop Parvez.’

  ‘That’s a negative‚ Jay. Do not approach Parvez or any of the other targets. Turn ar… head towards Piccadilly Cir… Oxford Street is be… vacuated. We have men…’

  ‘Parker‚ you’re breaking up. Parker? Shit. Parker?’ The line went dead and I pocketed the phone. I didn’t quite understand what he wanted to say‚ but I’d heard enough. I was beyond relieved that help was here and I just knew that Akhtar must have had a change of heart. I punched the air in delight like a sap.

  Fucking legend. I love that guy.

  I hoped that they were treating him like a hero rather than a terrorist.

  I picked up the pace‚ brushing past anxious shoppers. Traffic that I had been stuck in only minutes ago was all but gone. Whatever was left was carrying out three point turns and getting as far away as possible from Oxford Street. I should have turned on my heel and followed suit‚ Parker had warned me as much‚ but I still had one more person to pull out of the fire.

  I started to run.

  86

  12.43 p.m.

  Salman trudged to the men’s toilet‚ dejected. The news had shocked him‚ it had shocked them all. They discussed the possibility of walking away‚ starting again‚ a new target‚ a new location at a different time. That discussion lasted less than a minute as they all quickly agreed to stick with the plan‚ regardless of losing two men. Salman’s return from the toilet was in stark contrast to his departure; he was nearly bouncing back to the table. The chef‚ from behind the counter‚ was looking at him curiously and had a fair idea of what had occurred in the toilet.