‘Yes. He’s made a move. I was just about to pick up the phone to tell Liz when you rang. Is she OK by the way? It’s not like her to leave her post just as things start hotting up.’
‘Yes. She’s fine but someone close to her has died.’ She hoped she’d said enough and not too much.
‘Oh. I’m sorry to hear that,’ said Wally and went on, ‘Zara took a train to Birmingham.’
‘Birmingham?’
‘Yeah. He’s doing anti-surveillance but not all that cleverly. He took the Skyrail from the train to the airport and now he’s in a hire car. Last seen heading towards the M6.’
‘Oh God. Have you lost him?’ asked Peggy, thinking of the lorryload of weapons she had just agreed to let into the country.
‘No. Not as you might say “lost”. We’re not with him at the moment but we know roughly where he is and what car he’s in, so the police teams will be behind him soon. He’ll be on the cameras, and if he takes the M6 or the Toll, he’ll be snapped every few hundred yards. And we can always stop him at the Toll gate if we need to. The paying system can break down for a bit.’
He must be heading towards Manchester, thought Peggy. Nothing else makes sense.
‘Our team is ready to join in in case he goes off the M6 up a minor road,’ went on Wally. ‘Don’t worry, Peggy. I think we can cope with little Mr Zara whatever he does.’
‘He may be picking up some others somewhere.’
‘Yeah. That occurred to us. He’s hired a big enough car.’
‘You’ve got all the addresses he might be going to, haven’t you?’ asked Peggy anxiously. ‘The four warehouses and his mother’s house.’
‘Relax, Peggy. We’ve got it all in the brief. And we’re in touch with Manchester CT Unit.’
‘OK, Wally, thanks. Keep me posted please. I’ll be on my mobile.’
‘You going somewhere?’
‘Yes. I’m going up to Manchester to liaise with the police. I’ll be in the Ops Room up there.’
There was no point in hanging around in London. Not with both Zara and the lorry apparently heading for Manchester. So Peggy went back to the open-plan office and told the others where she would be, then headed out of Thames House and hailed a passing taxi. As she leaned back in her seat, she pulled out her mobile. The last thing Liz probably needed now was a phone call, but knowing Liz she would be wondering what was going on and, after all, she had asked Peggy to keep her informed. So Peggy sent her a text:
Off to Manchester – lorry and Z on their way.
The other package’s whereabouts still unknown.
Hope you are all right. PK
She hoped Liz wouldn’t be away too long. She wasn’t at all sure that she could fill her shoes.
Chapter 53
Peggy made it to Euston with just enough time to buy a ticket. The train to Manchester was packed but she managed to find a seat that wasn’t booked, though she had to ask a rude young man to move his coat and briefcase so that she could sit down. As the train pulled out of the station she closed her eyes and rehearsed in her mind everything that had happened and what she thought was about to happen. She was worried that they had seen no trace of the jihadis. Where were they? Were they travelling together or separately? Perhaps they were on the train. Perhaps they didn’t exist. Had they all misinterpreted the intelligence? And if they did exist and were on their way to meet Zara, what was it they were planning to do?
She was relieved that Manchester Police had set up an Ops Room. The responsibility to prevent whatever was planned no longer lay entirely on her shoulders. The police were now in charge of the action and she was their adviser.
Her thoughts drifted to Paris and to Liz. She wondered what she was doing and how she was getting on. What had happened in Paris the previous evening and why had Martin been shot? She tried to imagine the chain of events but she couldn’t make any sense of it.
When the refreshment trolley came through the carriage she realised she was starving. She had had no lunch and hardly any sleep the night before. She bought a sandwich and a black coffee and began to feel a bit better. She tried to relax, watching the reflections in the window and the bright lights of occasional stations. She had a feeling she wouldn’t be relaxing again for a while.
There was a long queue for taxis at Manchester Piccadilly Station, and when Peggy eventually got to the front and the cab drove off, she remarked to the driver how busy the place seemed. He laughed. ‘It’s the pop concert.’
‘Who’s playing?’
He named a boy band Peggy had only vaguely heard of and added, ‘It’ll be worse tomorrow. There’s another performance and the match – United’s playing City at Old Trafford. There’ll be gridlock, so I think I’ll stay at home.’
At Police HQ Peggy signed in at the front desk. ‘Third floor,’ she was told. ‘They’re expecting you.’
When the lift doors opened she found a tall, youngish-looking police officer waiting for her. It took a minute before she realised who it was.
‘I’m Richard Pearson, the Chief Constable. You must be Peggy.’
‘Yes,’ replied Peggy, rather breathlessly. ‘Good evening.’
‘I wanted to meet you to say how pleased we are to have you with us – but also how sorry I was about the sad events in Paris. I don’t know exactly what happened but I understand that Liz Carlyle has lost someone close to her. Please pass on my sympathy when you see her.’
‘Thank you,’ said Peggy, very surprised. ‘None of us knows the details, but Liz has gone over there and I expect she’ll have heard the full story by now. It seems that the group of jihadis changed their plans. They seem to have bypassed Paris and now we think they’re coming straight here. Your people will be more up to date than me – I’ve been on the train for the last couple of hours.’
‘Yes,’ replied the Chief Constable. ‘There have been some developments. Let me take you into the Ops Room and introduce you. The officer in charge is Chief Superintendent George Lazarus, Head of our Counter-Terrorist Unit. He’ll brief you on what’s going on.’
He led her down a corridor and into a large, brightly lit room. A big square table with chairs around it filled one end, and at the other a line of eight or ten desks, each with a computer, a phone and headphones, faced a wall of screens. A large digital clock on the wall showed 8.27 pm.
The desks were all occupied; there was a mix of men and women, some in uniform, some in plain clothes, some talking on the phone, some tapping on keyboards, some sitting back in their chairs. The atmosphere seemed busy but calm.
The Chief Constable introduced Peggy to Chief Superintendent Lazarus. Then with a quick, ‘Let me know, George, as soon as anything starts to happen,’ he left.
‘Come and sit down and have a cup of coffee and a bun and I’ll tell you what’s going on. Then I’ll introduce you to the team,’ said Lazarus, shepherding Peggy to the table. He was a big man, with large hands and feet. He quite dwarfed Peggy. As they sat down he picked up a paper from the table. ‘There was a call for you from Thames House Duty Officer about half an hour ago. He said that someone rang on one of your agent lines and asked you to ring back. Here’s the number.’
‘OK, thanks,’ said Peggy, taking the slip of paper and glancing at it before putting it in her pocket. ‘I’ll ring them later.’
‘Right then,’ said Lazarus. ‘The situation at present is that the Stena ferry carrying the lorry should be just about in to Harwich. The lorry will be allowed through Customs with no fuss, as you requested, and a marker will be put on covertly as it goes through. We have surveillance waiting to go with it wherever it goes. If it comes up here, as we expect, it should arrive any time from two o’clock onwards, provided it doesn’t stop or get lost. Zara in his hire car has arrived at his mum’s house in Eccles. We have three teams of A4 there, but they’re having to stand off a bit as the area is difficult for surveillance. They are doing drive-bys and Zara’s rental car is still there outside Mum’s house. If he goes out they should pick him up. My only worry is if he leaves over the garden wall, but that’s unlikely if he’s going to make contact with the lorry. He didn’t seem aware of surveillance. I gather he led your lot a bit of a dance on the way here, so he probably thinks he’s clean now.