The PM’s attention refocused on the previous week’s COBRA meeting, which had been convened to sort out the mess left by the Bishopsgate bombing and to foil any follow-up attacks. The minutes showed it had been a straightforward meeting. It had been chaired by the number two at the Home Office, a loyal supporter of the Home Secretary, with liaison officers from the MoD, the police, MI5, MI6 and the Metropolitan police. This meeting was going to be considerably more difficult. He personally would take the chair.
Deep under Number 10, with the Home Secretary away, his number two had taken the chair. He had arrived at COBRA early, sensing it was his opportunity to take control. By 8.45 a.m. he had a quorum. Against the advice of the permanent secretary, he called the meeting to order and had COBRA up and running. He almost caught MI5 with their trousers down. They had the video link, relaying what was going on at COBRA to the Ops Room, working only seconds later.
The minister chairing COBRA appeared very concerned about the impact of the adverse TV coverage and asked for suggestions on how the news stories and the TV pictures could be made to look less grim.
The army at Hartlepool in particular were doing an impressive job. The zinc factory next to the nuclear power station was belching out acrid smoke. Elsewhere, in the words of one TV commentator at Cruden Bay, ‘The locals must think that they are on the edge of a war zone, what with all the explosions and the dense smoke.’ Aldermaston and Heysham also looked grim.
The Home Office minister relished his time in the spotlight. He cleared his throat. ‘First, we must counter these awful pictures with something that will prevent us from looking feeble and, second, we should consider what the terrorists might do next and what we can do to stop them. The second part, I shall leave to the PM who will be joining us shortly.’
The minister looked around the room ‘We need to deflect the TV coverage and show the public that we’re playing hard ball with the terrorists. I have a colleague working on this. Do I hear any other suggestions?’
‘Perhaps COBRA should start vetting everything going on air, as was the case in Iraq?’
‘Good idea. We should implement this now,’ he turned to his colleague, who had come up with the idea. ‘Derek, would you please look after this personally?’
‘Yes, sir.’
Derek stood up to leave when the door suddenly opened and the Prime Minister walked in with the Defence Secretary and his personal secretary at his side. The PM, as the screen at Wood Street showed, beckoned Derek to sit down, strode over and stood facing the minister.
The room fell silent.
‘Minister, am I right in believing that last night you declined an invitation as the Home Secretary’s stand-in to meet with the commissioner of the City of London police force and three very high ranking officers of the State?’
The minister looked most put out and went into bluster mode.
‘But I wasn’t told who would be there and I was extremely busy. I had a speech to make. I’d already issued a press release and I knew that there would be excellent press coverage. Anyway, I rearranged the meeting for this morning. So no harm was done!’
The Prime Minister’s voice took on a steely tone.
‘Your judgement call was fundamentally flawed. Events have moved on. You should have been a safe pair of hands on which the commissioner could have relied. Instead you placed personal spin above the needs of your country.’
‘That’s quite untrue, Prime Minister; the press conference was for the good of the Government.’
The PM beckoned to his personal secretary, who walked over to the minister and placed a typed letter in front of him.
‘For your signature,’ said the PM.
The minister read the short letter and looked up at the PM, his eyes conveyed hostility. ‘Why should I resign at this of all times, when I’m needed here?’
The PM looked at him as if he were a bad-tempered schoolboy. ‘That meeting you were too busy to attend last night is still going on. The stakes have been so high that we haven’t been able to trust anyone unless they’ve been within a secure intelligence-monitored environment. Suffice it to say that the two gentlemen missing from this meeting aren’t the only moles we’ve found in senior places.’
‘What do you mean…? But I am needed here.’ ‘
Sign the letter or I will be forced to fire you.’
The minister was livid and intent on letting everybody know it. He hesitated, signed the letter and was escorted out of the room by the PM’s personal secretary.
The Prime Minister looked at the statue-like faces around him. ‘I think that we can now get back to business. Let me put you in the picture as to the events of the past thirty-six hours. However, lest you worry that things are being left to drift, let me assure you that a fully staffed Operations Room has been up and running since yesterday evening and is dealing with matters as we speak. The Defence Secretary and I spent the night there, and were there less than an hour ago.’
The PM, with input from the Defence Secretary, gave a detailed description of the events of the past thirty-six hours and the strategy that had been put in place for dealing with the terrorists.
A little earlier, back at Wood Street, at 9.39 a.m. Kate’s phone had rung. It was the main desk.
‘A junior minister from the Home Office is here to see a Mr Khan. I’m advised that you might know something about his whereabouts? He wants to see him, with two senior officers, in an interview room now!’
‘Leave this to me,’ said John. ‘I will tell him this is a very inconvenient time.’
Kate looked at Rafi. They were now alone in the room. ‘How are you holding up?’ she enquired in a concerned manner.
‘OK, but I wish we could find the last terrorist. I’m on tenterhooks with this waiting for Rick Feldon or Roger Harewood to get back to us.’
Kate’s phone rang. It was a very disgruntled John. ‘The junior minister is insisting that he sees Mr Khan. He says that he has a direct order from the Chair of COBRA, his boss. It seems he hauled himself and his press entourage over to Paddington Green police station only to be kept waiting and then to find Mr Khan wasn’t there. He was redirected to MI5 headquarters and they sent him here. He’s furious – says he’ll throw the book at us unless we let him see Rafi immediately. He refuses to understand that things are at a very delicate stage and won’t take no for an answer. He has told me that he’ll use his powers under the Civil Contingencies Act to make us cooperate, or else.’
‘I have spoken to Beverley. Giles and David have gone to a meeting with the deputy commissioner of the Metropolitan Police to brief COBRA’s police liaison unit and can’t be disturbed. I can’t find Ewan. So it’s down to us. The minister keeps saying that he has to find out how much more Mr Khan can tell him about the Bishopsgate bombing and the recent attacks. Basically, I reckon all the self-obsessed cretin wants is a smokescreen: a story to tell the news teams outside in order to deflect all the bad publicity the Government is getting.’
‘Damn it! Why the hell now?’ blurted out Kate.
‘Because the man doesn’t live in the real world!’ Tiredness had reduced John’s ability to remain calm.
‘Sounds like the old saying: “They came to do good; they stayed to do well”,’ added Rafi.
‘Thank you, Rafi,’ said Kate in a frustrated tone.
‘Anyway,’ continued John, ‘I suppose we’ll have no option but to let him see Rafi.’