Stephen Leather - False Friends

‘Shit,’ said Shepherd.

‘Shit is right,’ agreed Button. ‘The question is, what are they up to? They might have fake passports ready to go abroad. But the security to get on the cross-Channel trains is as tough as at the airports so I don’t see them getting bombs or guns on board. But they could do a lot of damage in the station. I just wish I knew what was in those backpacks.’ She called over to one of the men in front of the terminals. ‘Peter?’ A middle-aged man in a sports jacket swivelled his chair to face her. ‘Is there any way we can get an explosives dog to the station, now?’ asked Button.

‘I’ll try,’ he said.

‘If we can run a dog through and get a reaction that will tell us something,’ said Button. ‘But on the QT, no confrontation.’

‘Got it,’ said the man, turning back to his computer keyboard.

‘Can the dog tell the difference between explosives and ammunition?’ asked Shepherd.

‘I hope so,’ said Button.

‘I have an ARV close to the station,’ said Commander Needham. ‘Do you want us to intervene?’

‘Give me a moment, Commander,’ said Button.

‘Understood, but be aware that our only chance of getting any sort of clear shot will be gone once they go inside.’

‘Duly noted,’ said Button tersely. She stared at the screen that showed Chaudhry and Malik standing at the Midland Road entrance. ‘What’s your take on what’s happening, Spider?’

‘The backpacks are big enough for carbines, assuming they’ve got folding stocks,’ said Shepherd. ‘And bombs can be any size. The Seven-Seven bombers had backpacks and rucksacks.’ He shrugged. ‘I just don’t know. There’s no way of telling.’

‘The backpacks look bulky, don’t they? Would carbines look like that? They look as if they’re packed with something.’

‘Then that would mean explosives. And that would mean a suicide mission. That doesn’t make sense. Raj and Harvey weren’t being groomed to be martyrs.’

‘Unless they’re being lied to. It wouldn’t be the first time that men have been duped into becoming martyrs.’

‘Hell, Charlie. I don’t know. I don’t know what their mindset is. Certainly Raj and Harvey never believed that they’d be sent on a suicide mission.’

‘We have a clear shot,’ said the commander. ‘Do I have a green light?’

‘Wait!’ said Shepherd.

The commander looked at Button. ‘We can take them out now with zero collateral damage,’ he said. ‘We might not get another chance.’

Button opened her mouth to speak but Shepherd held up his hand. ‘Just give me a minute,’ he said. ‘Let me think.’

‘The clock is ticking, Spider,’ said Button.

‘Amen to that,’ said the commander. ‘If there are bombs in those backpacks we need to neutralise the threat now, before they go into the station,’ he said.

‘Neutralise the threat?’ repeated Shepherd. ‘Why don’t you say what you mean? Shoot them. That’s what you’re suggesting, isn’t it?’

‘Easy, Spider,’ said Button. ‘We’re just following protocol here. If they’re carrying bombs and there’s a chance that they are going to be detonated then we have to minimise civilian casualties. And the best way of doing that is to take them down sooner rather than later.’

‘I don’t see triggers, do you? They’ve just got backpacks. There could be anything in them.’

‘Including bombs with timers.’

‘Let’s just wait a little longer.’

‘We’re running out of time,’ said Button.

Lesporis stood up. ‘Charlotte, we have another van approaching St Pancras. Two Muslim males in the front.’

‘What?’ said Button, turning to look at the screen showing the map of London. A flashing light was moving east towards the station. ‘Do we have video?’

‘Screen eight,’ said Lesporis. They looked at the screen. A white van was sitting at a set of traffic lights. ‘We have a bike behind them. That’s where we’re getting the video feed from.’

‘They’re on Euston Road,’ said Button. ‘If they’re going to St Pancras they’ll be there in the next five minutes. How many are in the van?’

‘We think three in the back but there are no windows so we can’t be sure,’ said Lesporis.

‘So there are more of them on the way?’ said the commander.

‘It seems so,’ said Button.

On the screen, Chaudhry was talking to Malik.

‘I wish we had audio,’ said Button. She went over to stand behind Lesporis and put a hand on his shoulder. ‘Make sure our watchers stick with that van and find out where it goes.’

‘I’m on it,’ said Lesporis.

Chaudhry stopped and stared up at the sign above the station. A CCTV camera was looking down at them. Malik stood next to him.

‘What are we going to do, Raj?’ asked Malik.

‘Let me think,’ said Chaudhry.

‘Think? What the hell are you thinking about? What if we’re carrying bombs? Those bastards could be preparing to blow us up right now.’

Chaudhry turned to look at the van that had dropped them off. It was turning on to the main road.

‘Raj? Come on, brother, get a grip, will you? What do we do?’

‘He didn’t say anything about a bomb. He just said we go into the station and we’ll get further instructions.’ Chaudhry held up the map. ‘This is where we have to go.’

‘And you believe that? And where the hell is Khalid? For all we know he could be calling up mobile-phone detonators right now. We’re dead men walking, brother.’

‘Just give me a minute, will you?’ Chaudhry looked at Malik’s backpack. It was bulky, as was the one on his back. He jiggled his. It made no sound. The pack was heavy, but not uncomfortably so. He tried to remember his time in the training camp in Pakistan. For several days they’d been shown how to make and use various types of explosives, and even how to construct a suicide-bomb waistcoat.

‘They’re not heavy enough,’ said Chaudhry.

‘What do you mean?’

‘If the target’s a station then the bombs would have explosives and metal for fragmentation. Nuts, bolts, nails. Otherwise you just get a loud bang. Feel the weight. They’re not packed with metal.’

‘So what do you think we’re carrying? Packed lunches?’

‘Poison? But that doesn’t really make sense. Poison in a rucksack isn’t going to hurt anybody. Guns, maybe. Handguns. Perhaps that’s it. Maybe we get into position and they call us and tell us to start shooting.’

‘I’m not shooting anybody. Look, let’s just dump the backpacks and get the hell out of here.’

‘That’s not an option, Harvey. Look, we’re not carrying bombs. I’m sure of that. So we go inside and see what they want us to do next. We can stop at any time.’

‘So let’s stop now.’

‘If we drop the bags and run, that’ll be it. How do we know they’ll catch Khalid?’

‘That’s not our problem, Raj.’

‘Yes, it is,’ hissed Chaudhry. ‘These people kill civilians. They’re terrorists so that’s what they want to do — terrorise. They kill and maim innocents because that way they spread terror. And if we don’t stop Khalid maybe he’ll kill your sister. Or my parents. Or our friends. These bastards don’t care who dies, Harvey. They blow up tube trains and buses and even mosques. And if we don’t stop them, who will?’

‘I don’t want to die, brother.’ Malik was close to tears.

‘No one’s going to die,’ said Chaudhry. ‘Not today. I promise.’

The young man in the grey suit raised a hand. ‘BTP want to know how many feeds you want?’

‘All of them,’ said Button.

‘We can get them all but there are more than a hundred cameras inside and outside. They’re asking if you want them to be selective.’