Stephen Leather: False Friends

‘Anything I can do?’ asked the driver.

‘Are you firearms trained?’ asked Shepherd. He slid the Glock into his shoulder holster.

‘Afraid not. Strictly surveillance.’

‘Then thanks but no thanks,’ said Shepherd. He took off Malik’s parka and gave it to the driver. ‘You can hang on to that for me, if you don’t mind.’ He shouldered the backpack and began running towards the main entrance.

Zoe waved over at Charlotte Button. ‘The security guards on the upper floor are now directing people out of the mall and into the department stores.’

‘Excellent,’ said Button. She looked over at the clock. Four minutes to six.

‘We’ve just intercepted the fourth van,’ said the commander. ‘It was heading for car park B. Four men in custody; no shots fired.’

‘And the ARVs?’

‘First one will arrive in about one minute. Second one two minutes later.’

‘Make sure they have a full description of Spider and explain that he is armed. I don’t want any friendly fire incidents.’

‘They’ve been informed,’ said the commander.

Button looked up at the screen showing the overhead view from the helicopter. Spider was running towards the main entrance.

Heads turned as Shepherd ran through the crowds. He scanned the faces, his trick memory comparing them with the photographs he’d seen at Thames House. He slowed to a jog as he reached the entrance. The glass doors were wide open as shoppers poured in. He walked into the mall and checked his watch. There were three minutes to go before six o’clock. That meant that the terrorists were almost certainly already in place. He looked around, breathing slowly and evenly.

Two security guards were standing to his left. They were Asians, wearing black suits and with their identification cards in clear plastic cases strapped to their arms. One was in his forties, dark-skinned and wearing tinted glasses. The other was younger, with lighter skin, and carrying something in his hands. Shepherd moved to the side to get a better look. The man was holding a length of chain and a padlock. The older man looked at his watch. There was a black Timberland backpack at his feet. The two men were standing with their backs to the wall, watching the shoppers walking into the mall. Two middle-aged Chinese women went over and asked them for directions and the younger security guard pointed up to the first floor.

Shepherd walked over, his hand slipping inside his jacket. ‘How’s it going, guys?’ he asked.

‘Can we help you, sir?’ asked the older guard.

Shepherd stood facing them, using his body to conceal the Glock as he pulled it out. ‘I need the two of you to stand facing each other right now,’ said Shepherd. ‘If you don’t I’ll shoot you.’ The younger guard opened his mouth to speak but Shepherd jabbed the gun in his stomach. ‘Don’t say anything. Just do it. I don’t have time to fuck around.’ The men turned to face each other. Shepherd patted them down but didn’t find a gun. He kicked the backpack to the side. It was heavy. He took the chain and padlock with his left hand and gestured with the gun. ‘Put your arms round each other, like you were hugging.’ The men hesitated and Shepherd jabbed the younger guard again with the barrel of the gun. ‘Do it or I swear I’ll shoot you both.’

The two men put their arms round each other. Shepherd kept hold of one end of the chain and let the rest fall to the floor. He draped it over the neck of the younger guard, then, using his left hand, he wrapped the chain round their waists and round their necks; finally he pushed it between them and pulled it hard to tighten it. He fastened the chain with the padlock and pushed the men to the floor. The guards said nothing as they glared defiantly up at Shepherd. He holstered his Glock, picked up the backpack and began to run to the entrance at the far end of the mall. Several shoppers saw what was going on but hurried by, not wanting to get involved. London was a city where passers-by who intervened in violent situations tended to end up in hospital. Or worse.

The mall was so crowded that Shepherd couldn’t manage more than a jog and he was constantly having to change direction. People he banged into cursed and shouted at him but he was so focused on checking faces that what they said barely registered. He was looking for two things: faces from the Thames House surveillance photographs and Asians with backpacks.

He took a quick look at his watch. A minute and a half to go. He barged between a group of teenagers. One of them lashed out with his foot and caught Shepherd’s calf but Shepherd barely felt it. He slowed to a walk, scanning faces. Walking in through the glass doors were two Asians in Puffa jackets, both carrying backpacks. Shepherd’s hand went to his gun. One of the Asians said something and the other laughed. They were too relaxed to be a threat, Shepherd realised. One of them went over to a display of store guides; he took one and unfolded it. The two men looked around, trying to get their bearings. Shepherd took a deep breath, knowing that he had come close to shooting two innocent shoppers.

He moved closer to the doors. A police ARV arrived and it screeched to a halt. The doors opened and three armed officers got out, all holding MP5s. A tall Asian man in a long raincoat walking from the train station whirled round to look at the police car. He had a backpack and he took it off and began to fumble inside it. He turned so that his back was to the approaching policemen. Shepherd caught a glimpse of a pistol. He pulled out his Glock and fired twice, catching the man in the centre of his chest.

The armed police all jumped as if they’d been stung and then crouched low as they covered the area with their MP5s. Shepherd threw down the backpack that he’d taken from the security guards and turned and ran from the doors He didn’t have time to explain to the police that he was on their side. People were screaming all around him and some were running out into the street.

He slotted the Glock back in its holster as he ran towards the escalators that led to the lower ground floor. He stopped and looked down over the balcony. No one on the lower ground floor had reacted to the screaming or to the shooting.

He couldn’t see the doors that led to the outside, but he heard shouts of ‘Armed police’ at the entrance behind him. He hurried on.

As he rode down the escalator he looked left and right, scanning faces, checking for bags. He was almost at the bottom when he saw an Asian man with a backpack facing a shop window and looking at his watch. As the man turned round Shepherd recognised him. He was one of the men from Leeds who had arrived at St Pancras on the tube. The man started to walk away from the shop and Shepherd ran up behind him. He pulled out his Glock and slammed it against the side of the man’s head and he slumped to the ground without a sound. Two middle-aged women screamed and backed away from Shepherd as he holstered his gun. Shepherd looked down at the unconscious man. He’d be out for a while, certainly until the police had arrived in force.

Most of the shoppers in the vicinity seemed unconcerned about what had happened and continued to walk by, looking down at the prone figure but not stopping to help. Even the two screaming women soon fell silent and hurried away.

Shepherd did a full three-sixty turn but didn’t see anyone else that he recognised so he jogged over to the entrance that led to the tube station. He stopped when he saw that an Asian man in a green anorak with the hood up was walking purposefully towards the entrance. Shepherd had seen the man’s face before, in Thames House. It was the Egyptian, Riffat Pasha. Pasha was carrying a backpack in his right hand as he looked at his watch. He looked scared, as if he might be having second thoughts about what he was about to do.