‘You should have seen it thirty-six hours ago – none of this mess was here,’ replied Rafi.
‘No,’ said Emma, ‘it was all tidied away into the filing cabinets!’
Alex walked across to Rafi’s desk and pulled up a chair. ‘I am so pleased that you are OK. Might I ask why you chose me, when you could have picked one of the high-profile City economists?’
Rafi looked at Alex. ‘It was a no-brainer. How are you getting on with your colleagues?’
‘Really well.’
‘There’s your answer,’ he said with a broad smile.
‘Thank you and thanks for choosing me. Oh, by the way, your little sister is proving an inspired choice; she’s a bright cookie and has us all organised. Chat to you later,’ with that Alex turned and left.
Kate looked across at Rafi. ‘You don’t by any chance have a brother? If so, I’d like to meet him, please!’
‘Afraid not.’
She looked at Rafi, her head slightly to one side. ‘You are proving to be a most resourceful guy, with some great friends. I’m pleased that I let David bully me into getting you out of Paddington Green!’
Kate and Rafi were finalising the background materials for the presentation to the Chiefs upstairs, when Jeremy bounced into the room.
‘Well done tracking down the fifth missile launcher; at last we’ve something to celebrate.’
How he managed to keep up to date amazed Rafi.
‘Talking of having fun, we’ve been over to Aidan’s office,’ said Jeremy. Greg has had a field day. He’s borrowed three large state-of-the-art video-conferencing screens, a large plasma screen and a selection of other useful gismos. The basement store proved to be a real Aladdin’s cave. Aidan did a brilliant job of distracting his two security guards and he even got them to lock up the conference rooms before he left, saying that they were to remain locked until 8 a.m. tomorrow. Greg is down the corridor setting up his new toys. How long has the meeting been going on upstairs?’
‘Almost an hour,’ replied Emma. ‘The PM arrived a bit late.’
Kate had finished her collating and walked over to Rafi’s desk. ‘Well, I seem to be ready. How are you feeling?’
‘Given the circumstances, not that bad, thanks. At least my brain is still working; the rest of me feels due for a refit and needs a bit of TLC.’
Kate smiled and whispered, ‘When all this is over, I’ll see what I can do – as a small thank you.’
‘A thank you for what?’ Rafi replied.
‘You’re simply impossible! What planet are you on? If it hadn’t been for you, I’d be having a normal night, oblivious to the fact that tomorrow we could be facing Armageddon.’
‘Excuse me.’ Rafi, still deep in thought, walked off down the corridor to see how the economics team was getting on. He put his head around the door. The six occupants had reorganised the room, with a group of desks in the middle. Alex and Donald were sitting next to each other, opposite Matthew and Bob. Saara was at one end and Aidan at the other. On one side of the room were a couple of PCs and a printer photocopier. A whiteboard, now covered with writing, had been hung on the opposite wall. Plates littered the table. The room definitely had a work-in-progress air to it.
‘Just thought I’d drop by to see how you were getting on and to let you know that we currently have a good idea where seven of the eight terrorist targets are.’
‘And they’ve traced the two suicide bombers with the journalist Kaleem Shah to the outskirts of Aldermaston, not far from the Nuclear Weapons Research Establishment, as Emma predicted,’ added Kate who had arrived just behind Rafi.
Matthew spoke up. ‘Emma and Aidan have explained what the terrorists are planning. My view is that you are underestimating the financial downside.’
‘But at least we have advance warning,’ said Aidan.
Rafi smiled at his sister.
‘They’re being very tolerant of my lack of finance skills,’ she said.
‘Have none of it Rafi; this young lady could join my team any day!’ said Donald, Rafi’s former boss, with a smile.
Rafi turned to leave. The soft voice of Saara follow him down the corridor. ‘Rafi, look after yourself.’
Back at his desk, Rafi called across to Kate. ‘For the life of me, I can’t come up with any more ideas where the missing target might be. I’m beginning to feel rather useless…’
Kate looked up. ‘Why don’t you put your feet up for a few minutes and have a bite to eat. How you manage to still think straight, amazes me.’ she added in a caring tone.
Rafi was halfway through a sandwich when Kate’s phone rang. ‘We’re on. Time to face the music!’
As they went down the corridor, Kate put her head around the door of the interview room and asked Aidan to join them.
They walked past a positively beaming Greg, who by the looks of things had the Ops Room fully up and running. He gave a thumbs up sign to Aidan, who acknowledged it with a wave and a grin.
The walk up the back stairs took Rafi back to his school days; it conjured up memories of visiting his house master – the gloomy lighting and the greying wall paint added to his apprehension. The question he was thinking, was ‘what would the PM do?’
Chapter 5
The team walked into the commissioner’s anteroom, where Beverley was at her desk. ‘Giles is ready for you. Do go straight in.’ The commissioner’s conference room had a very businesslike air to it.
‘Good evening,’ said Giles Meynell, standing up as Kate entered the room. ‘Please be seated. John and Jeremy, would you let Rafi, Kate and Aidan sit at the table and pull up two chairs behind them? Thank you. It’s a bit of a squeeze, but I reckon we can manage. Time for some introductions: Prime Minister, Secretary of State for Defence, Air Chief Marshal Sir Nigel Hawser, head of our armed services, and Ewan Thorn, head of MI5 – it is my pleasure to introduce: Detective Chief Inspector John Dowsing of Special Branch, Detective Inspector Kate Adams of our Economic Crime Unit, Jeremy Welby of MI5, Aidan Gilchrist of Maine Leadbetter – a derivatives expert – and Rafi Khan.
After a short pause, Giles continued. This time his gaze was fixed on Kate. ‘We have had a fruitful discussion, but before we go any further the Prime Minister and his Defence Secretary would like to ask you some questions.’
‘Thank you, Commissioner,’ said the PM in a measured voice. ‘Three hours ago I had envisaged spending the evening dealing with mundane matters. Suffice it to say, Giles’s revelations have come as a serious shock – the intricacy and scope of the terrorists’ threat to our energy supplies, our financial system and our country’s economic welfare is every bit as grave as anything we have faced since the Second World War,’ he looked at Giles reassuringly. ‘I’m not going to shoot the messenger. Indeed, I understand that you’ve been working day and night since Monday. To have come this far with your investigations in such a short time deserves my considerable gratitude.’
The PM paused and looked around the room. ‘Unfortunately, all you have accomplished will come to nothing unless our next steps are the right ones. As has most eloquently been pointed out to me, we have to be proactive – not reactive – in the face of these heinous threats.’ He looked at his Defence Secretary, then continued. ‘There are a number of questions to which we would appreciate candid answers. First of all, why do you believe that COBRA is not the right way forward at this point in time?’
Kate looked across at the PM. ‘I wish it were, sir,’ she said slightly shakily. She paused and regained her composure. ‘MI5’s and our worry is that the terrorists have sleepers in place who could tip them off, and prompt them to switch to a contingency plan. At this point in time we’ve a lead on all except one of the expected terrorist targets. We know that we’re up against well-trained and battle-hardened mercenaries. If they were to be tipped off, such is the transportability of their missile launchers that they might simply switch to a plan “B”. To answer your question, whilst the chances are small, the downside hazard is too large.’