He stopped and glanced at the PM. ‘Sir, we have a plan.’ He paused, ‘Government real estate investment trusts could be created, thus providing the Government with a source of finance that will enable it to meet these impending financial obligations as and when they arise. It will remove the need to tap the gilts markets, and will help the Government refinance its increased borrowings resulting from the bail out of the UK banking system.’
‘Why didn’t you say that sooner?’ interjected the tetchy Defence Secretary.
The Prime Minister smiled. ‘So there’s a silver lining – as long as we take on board your solution and you get it right.’
‘Yes, Prime Minister.’
‘Right, back to matters at hand,’ said the PM. ‘The outstanding question that we need to answer is: do the terrorists have a contingency plan “B” in place? And if so, how much damage might a Kornet missile inflict? I’d be very interested to hear your views, Air Chief Marshal.’
‘The damage could be extensive. If MI5 are confident that they know where the terrorists are going to attack in all but one of the locations, why give them a second chance by activating COBRA?’
‘Ewan?’
‘From MI5’s standpoint we can’t believe our good fortune in finding where the attacks are likely to come from. Why risk tipping the terrorists off?’
‘Defence Secretary?’
‘We’ve everything in place to run such an operation from COBRA. And how certain are we that these properties will be used by the terrorists? I believe that the two moles in COBRA should be apprehended so that we can get COBRA up and running, using the advantages that its set up will give us. I’d be willing to take the seemingly minute risk that there isn’t a third mole… However, I will fall into line if everyone else believes COBRA isn’t the right way forward at this point in time.’
‘Commissioner, what are your views on COBRA?’
‘The consequences of the terrorists swapping to a plan “B” are, in my opinion, too great a risk to contemplate whilst they and the four Kornet missile launchers are at large. Perhaps, sir, you might like to take a look at the emergency operations room we’ve set up downstairs before you make up your mind?’
The PM turned to Ewan. ‘Please arrest the two COBRA suspects without tipping off the terrorists, and see if you can discover how they were going to make contact.’
‘Yes, sir. We have them under surveillance.’
The PM looked at Kate and her team.
‘We owe you a great debt of gratitude for all your work and insight into the terrorists’ activities, and thank you for placing our troubles into context. Mr Khan, thank you for your tenacity. And my thanks to the rest of you.’
Kate took that as the invitation to leave. She and her team filed out of the room.
They didn’t have to wait long. Jeremy received a call on his mobile. ‘Well, I’m damned.’ He listened a little longer and then said, ‘Thank you.’
Jeremy looked across at John. ‘My colleagues have interviewed one of the COBRA suspects. He gave them the phone number he was to ring and the phrase he was to use each time COBRA was activated. They traced the landline number as the ex-directory number of a special press adviser. However, the call was to be redirected through to the voicemail box of a mobile phone. And – would you bloody well believe it? – the mobile is currently located on the outskirts of Aldermaston, 200 metres away from where the suicide bombers are holed up in the horsebox. It’s a bit of luck; we had assumed that they were all together.’
Kate and Rafi settled down and went through their paperwork to see if they had missed anything that could lead them to the missing target. Hours later they had still found nothing.
Rafi felt exhausted. He turned to Kate. ‘I need sleep.’
‘How about I tuck you in?’ she asked with a mischievous smile.
‘Not tonight, thank you,’ he replied. ‘Could you wake me at 4 a.m. please – or earlier, if I’m needed?’
‘Will do,’ promised Kate. Rafi walked down the back stairs to the cells, grabbed a blanket and pillow and lay down on his bed. His mind started to clear. He got up, knelt down and for the first time in over a week said his prayers. Then he got into bed, and within moments, he was out for the count.
Just before 4 a.m., Rafi was woken by Jeremy. He was groggy and struggled to get his brain back into gear. Strong black coffee was waiting for him upstairs.
‘Hey, you still look rough,’ said Kate cheerily as Rafi walked in. ‘You’ve chosen a good time to join us. Things are hotting up in the Ops Room. It’s like a game of chess. If you come down the corridor with me, I’ll bring you up to speed.’
Kate started putting Rafi in the picture. ‘Emma, John and Aidan’s team are catching up on some sleep down in the cells. The duty sergeant has never known the cells so full of sober people. The ’s mood has improved; it seems first impressions were deceiving – in fact he’s rather good at his job.’ She paused. ‘As you’ll see, the Air Chief Marshal has brought in a specialist anti-terrorism expert and a couple of senior officers to act as coordinators.’
Rafi tentatively entered the Ops Room. It was buzzing. Kate and he stood out of the way to one side. The video-conference screen to his left was linked up with the SAS command centre. The Air Chief Marshal, Brigadier Harold Sparkman and Colonel Paul Gray were discussing the first operation – the capture of the two suicide bombers and Kaleem Shah at Aldermaston. The colonel gave instructions and two teams, red and blue, were deployed. The plan was to overwhelm the suicide bombers and the journalist at precisely the same moment.
The two suicide bombers were not expected to be much of a problem. They were not professional soldiers, but they did have two large bombs in their horsebox. Speed and the element of surprise were going to be critical.
The SAS commander reported that the two bombers were, to all intents and purposes, tucked up in the living quarters of the horsebox and appeared to be sleeping fitfully.
Kaleem Shah was a different matter. He had had many years’ experience of working in war zones. He was undoubtedly a cautious and capable soldier. The fact that he’d opted to sleep a couple of hundred metres away from the two terrorists suggested that he was expecting the unexpected.
The infrared sensors had identified the journalist as lying quietly across the back seat of the Jeep. The vehicle was positioned such that it had a line of sight through to the horsebox and a second 4x4, but was largely screened by twiggy vegetation and small saplings.
It was all quiet in and around the large Jeep and the horsebox. The two SAS teams silently approached the vehicles and waited for their orders.
Rafi watched, totally caught up in the proceedings. Unlike watching TV, this was real. He felt his heart pounding.
Just then Colonel Gray gave the command for the two assaults. There was a momentary delay and then, from a video link, there was the sound of two muffled explosions. The speaker crackled as it picked up the voice of the red team leader who was commanding a team of three against the journalist and his Jeep. ‘We’ve secured the vehicle and have captured the journalist. He didn’t put up a struggle. We found two booby traps outside the vehicle. Nothing too sophisticated, but nasty enough to take off a leg.’
The blue team simultaneously descended on the horsebox, found nothing untoward protecting it and seized the two suicide bombers, dragging them from their sleeping bags out into the open.
At that moment a loud bang echoed around the room. The horsebox erupted into a fireball.
‘Shit! The bastard had a radio-controlled device up his sleeve,’ was heard from the speaker.
‘Blue team! Come in blue team!’ There was silence.
Two further loud explosions were heard as the terrorists’ explosives went up.
The Air Chief Marshal looked at the colonel. ‘Not a good start Paul, is it?’
The silence was followed by a muffled voice across the video link.
‘Jesus, that was close,’ said a shaky voice. ‘Two of us are singed, but otherwise fine; two have suffered minor injuries from flying debris, but my corporal has an eighteen-inch piece of aluminium sticking out of his thigh. And the two suicide bombers are in a bad way – one has a piece of shrapnel in his chest. They had no protective clothing on and both are badly burnt.’