‘Sure, I can do that,’ said the negotiator. Malik and Zoe backed away from the door. A couple of minutes later they heard a soft footfall and Clarke appeared holding a bucket on top of which were two pizza boxes, some crisps, fruit and bottles of water and fruit juice. ‘Is everything okay?’ asked Clarke.
‘Just bring the stuff in and put it down,’ said Malik. ‘Don’t even think about trying something.’
‘I’m not going to be trying anything, Sami,’ said Clarke. ‘We just want everyone to walk away from this safe and well. No one is going to put you under any pressure. We just want to help you.’
‘You do like to talk, don’t you?’ sneered Malik. ‘Just put the stuff down and go.’
Clarke bent down slowly and placed everything on the floor, then straightened, holding up his hands, fingers splayed. ‘If you want anything else, just shout,’ he said. ‘We’re not far away.’
‘We won’t want anything else,’ said Malik.
‘What about the children?’
‘What about them?’
‘Just let the kids go. This is no place for kids, you know that.’
‘They’re hostages, and all the hostages have to stay put,’ said Malik.
‘They’re kids.’
‘Look, mate, the best thing you can do is to tell your bosses that the sooner they release the prisoners in Belmarsh the sooner everyone gets to go home. Now fuck off.’ He waved the trigger in his right hand to emphasise the point.
‘No problem, Sami. Just shout if you want anything else.’ Clarke backed away a few steps, then turned and headed down the centre.
Malik and Zoe went over to the pile. Malik picked up the pizza box with the rest of the food and drink, while Zoe grabbed the bucket. They walked together to the changing rooms. There were three girls in one, and the mother with the two crying kids was in the other with the second shop assistant. Malik gave the snacks and the drinks to the woman with the children, and one of the pizzas. He gave the other pizza to the three girls but they put it on the floor, unopened.
‘Where’s the smokes?’ asked the mother.
‘They wouldn’t let us have cigarettes,’ lied Malik.
‘Bastards,’ said the woman. She unscrewed the cap from a bottle of orange juice and gave it to one of the children, a bottle of water to the other. They stopped crying as she opened the pizza box and shoved a piece into her mouth.
Malik took Zoe back into the shop. She was still holding the bucket. ‘I’m sorry, I can’t undo the cuffs,’ he said. ‘I can look the other way, if that helps.’
‘Over there,’ she said, nodding at a circular rack full of items on sale. ‘I can duck inside and do it.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Can you think of anything else? Because I can’t and I’m fucking bursting.’
LAMBETH CENTRAL COMMUNICATIONS COMMAND CENTRE (3.20 p.m.)
Virtually everyone in the special operations room was watching the woman squat over the bucket in the shop. The CCTV camera was looking down on her so gave a full view of what was taking place, even though the man she was chained to couldn’t see her through the rack of clothes.
‘Take it down, Joe,’ said Gillard. Sergeant Lumley tapped on his keyboard. The CCTV feed disappeared from the large screen and was replaced by the scene outside the childcare centre in Kensington. ‘Mo, did we know this was happening?’ asked Gillard.
‘Inspector Edwards is Silver and he didn’t mention it,’ said Kamran.
‘Have a word, will you?’ said Gillard. ‘Explain to him the error of his ways.’
‘Joe, get me Inspector Edwards ASAP,’ said Kamran, as he walked back to his desk. He sat down and stared at his screens as he waited for Lumley to put Edwards through.
‘Line three,’ said Lumley.
Kamran picked up the receiver and pressed the flashing button to take the call. ‘Ross, what’s happening there? We’ve just seen one of your people delivering food.’
‘Yes, sir. One of the hostages needed to use the bathroom and they wanted something to eat.’
‘That’s not SOP, Ross,’ said Kamran. ‘You should know that. You told me you were going to use the phone.’
‘It was the negotiator’s idea,’ said Edwards. ‘He said we should initiate contact at the earliest opportunity. He did that and commenced negotiations.’
‘And if it had been a ploy to get a senior officer up close so that he could be killed in the blast, what then?’ asked Kamran. The inspector didn’t reply. ‘Who’s leading the negotiating team?’
‘A guy called Jamie Clarke. He seems to know what he’s doing.’
‘Ross, you’re Silver Commander there. You’re in charge. You need to explain to this Clarke that a suicide bomber is a different scenario from a man with a knife or a gun. You don’t send in an officer to talk face to face. The way to establish contact would be to call the in-store number. Or, if that doesn’t work, to see if they’ll accept a landline. But anyone who approaches the line of fire needs to be in full ABS gear.’
‘Understood, sir. Sorry.’
‘Not a problem, Ross. But you need to keep us informed in the SOR before you make contact again.’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Now, did your contact produce any intel? Anything at all that might be useful?’
‘Unfortunately not, sir. Oh, he uses the name Sami.’
‘Sami? We have him as Mohammed Malik.’
‘That’s right, sir, but he said his middle name was Sami and that’s the name he goes by.’
‘That’s good to know. Thank you.’
‘Sir? I’m not a hundred per cent sure what I should be doing next.’
‘You’re doing just fine,’ said Kamran. ‘The centre is evacuated, right? You have the area contained? Armed police are on the scene?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Then that’s all good,’ said Kamran. ‘Now we wait and see what their next move is. In the meantime, your priority is to keep your people out of harm’s way.’ He put down the phone and went over to Gillard, who was standing behind Chris Thatcher, watching a video on the left-hand screen. It took Kamran several seconds to realise what they were looking at. It was a jerky view of the bus in Tavistock Square. The vehicle seemed to be swinging from side to side so the camera must have been attached to the bomb-disposal man’s jacket. Talpur was standing at the front of the bus, beside the driver, handcuffed to a female passenger. He was screaming and swearing, his eyes wide and his lips curled back, like a snarling dog’s.
The camera swung to the side and Inspector Biddulph’s face filled the screen. He had removed his helmet.
‘Well, that’s not SOP, is it?’ said Gillard. ‘Bloody idiot.’
They could hear Talpur screaming, though his voice was muffled by the closed doors. ‘Get the fuck away! Both of you!’
Biddulph put the helmet on the ground and then raised his hands. ‘Kash, it’s me, Mark!’
‘Why is everyone seemingly so keen to throw away the safety manual today?’ asked Gillard.
The camera swung back to show the bus. ‘Fuck off!’ shouted Talpur. ‘Just get the fuck away before we all die!’
‘Kash, mate, whatever the problem is, we can talk it through. I’m here to help,’ they heard Biddulph shout, but the camera stayed on the bus.
Talpur said something to the driver and a few seconds later the door rattled open. Talpur stood in the doorway, glaring at Biddulph. ‘Listen to me and listen to me good!’ he shouted. ‘You coming here is putting everyone at risk. Do you not understand that? You need to go away — get the hell away from here — because if you don’t this vest will go off and everyone dies.’ He spoke to the driver again and the door closed.