Thatcher clicked his mouse and the picture froze. He clicked again and went back to after the doors had just opened. ‘Watch this closely,’ he said. Kamran and Gillard peered over his shoulders and Waterman walked around to join them. Thatcher replayed the moment that Talpur had started shouting through the open door.
‘Listen to me and listen to me good! You coming here is putting everyone at risk. Do you not understand that?’
Thatcher clicked the mouse and the picture froze again. ‘His choice of words is important here. Everyone is at risk, he says. He’s including himself with the hostages. He does it twice.’
He clicked the mouse and played out the next part. ‘You need to go away — get the hell away from here — because if you don’t this vest will go off and everyone dies.’
The bus door rattled shut and Thatcher froze the picture. ‘He puts himself with the hostages,’ said Thatcher. ‘It’s not him against them, it’s him with them. Usually hostage-takers do everything they can to disassociate themselves from their hostages. They treat them as objects, or as animals, not as human beings. But this guy, it’s as if he’s one of them. Everyone dies, he said. Not “they’ll all die” or “I’ll kill them”. He regards himself as equally vulnerable.’
He clicked on the mouse and went back to the moment the bus doors had opened. He froze the picture once more. ‘And look at his face. Look at the eyes, the mouth, the way the lips curl back. That’s not anger, or aggression. That’s fear. He’s scared.’
‘But that’s to be expected, surely?’ said Gillard. ‘He’s a suicide bomber. He’s well aware of the consequences of his actions.’
‘But he’s in control, supposedly,’ said Thatcher. ‘He’s the one with his finger on the trigger so he’s the one with the power of life or death. It’s his decision. He’s in control.’ He pointed at the screen. ‘But does that look like the face of a man in control?’
‘He’s terrified,’ Kamran said.
‘So what’s scared him?’ asked Thatcher.
‘He thinks they’re going to attack him?’ suggested Kamran.
‘But they’re in ABS suits and they’re clearly not armed. And they can’t move quickly enough to rush him, he must be aware of that. And, let’s not forget, he opened the doors.’
‘So what are you saying?’ asked Gillard.
‘At the moment all I’m saying is that he isn’t behaving the way I’d expect a suicide bomber to behave,’ said Thatcher. ‘Generally they’re in control and their anger is directed outwards. They are the focal point and everyone else is a victim. By killing them he wins his place in Heaven. Talpur isn’t behaving like that. He’s as scared as his hostages.’
‘So that means he’s not in control,’ said Kamran. ‘Or, at least, he doesn’t feel as if he’s in control.’
‘So who is?’ asked Waterman from behind them. ‘Shahid?’
‘It could be,’ said Thatcher. ‘It could be that Shahid is in total control, and that it’ll be his decision and his alone whether they detonate.’
‘Let’s hope he calls soon,’ said Kamran. He glanced at the digital clock on the wall. It was 3.25 p.m. Only two and a half hours to go before they reached the deadline. ‘What do you think, boss?’ he asked Gillard. ‘Do we just flat-out refuse to release the Belmarsh prisoners?’
‘That’s not our call. You spoke to the PM, what did he say?’
‘His knee-jerk reaction was to say that they wouldn’t negotiate with terrorists. He said he was going into a Joint Intelligence Committee meeting and that he’d call me once they’d reached a decision. That was nearly three hours ago.’
‘They can’t release the prisoners, surely,’ said Murray. The SAS captain had walked in without anyone realising it.
‘It’s one of a number of options being considered,’ said Gillard.
‘They can’t let the terrorists win,’ said Murray.
‘The choice is what, though?’ said Kamran. ‘Nine suicide bombers detonate in the capital, killing dozens of innocent civilians. Would you want to be the prime minister who allows that to happen on his watch?’
‘What if they tell the pilot to fly over central London and they all detonate then?’ said Murray. ‘Everyone on the plane dies but how many hundreds will be killed on the ground? I don’t see how they can ever be allowed on a plane, do you?’
Gillard grimaced. The SAS captain was right. However they resolved the situation, allowing the terrorists onto a plane was not an option.
No one answered and Murray shrugged. ‘If it was my call I’d take them out now. We end it rather than them taking the initiative. If we go in and people die, the public will understand. But if we do nothing and people die, the armchair warriors will start looking for someone to pin the blame on. If it were my call, I’d be authorising simultaneous head shots and sending our guys in before things go any further.’
MARBLE ARCH (3.35 p.m.)
Al Jazeera was rerunning the footage they had shot of the two bomb-disposal officers approaching the bus in Tavistock Square. It was the third time they had shown the video but everyone in the coffee shop was watching.
‘Brother, do you know that man?’ El-Sayed asked the man who was handcuffed to his son.
‘Why do you want to know?’
‘I assumed you would be friends, that you had planned this together.’ El-Sayed spread out his hands. ‘If I’m wrong, I apologise.’
‘You talk too much.’
‘I am scared, brother. When a man is scared, he tends to babble.’
‘Providing everyone does as they are told and the prisoners are released, there is no need to be scared, old man.’
‘Then answer me this question, brother,’ said El-Sayed. ‘You want the prisoners released from Belmarsh. That is a noble aim and you have my support. But why are you not talking to the police?’ He gestured at the screen. ‘Your colleague on the bus, he had the chance to talk to them but he shouted at them to go away.’ He pointed at the newspaper-covered window. ‘And you have done everything you can to blot them out. Why aren’t you talking to them? Why don’t you tell them face to face what it is you want?’
‘Shahid is doing that,’ said the man. ‘He is making sure that our demands are met.’
‘And what sort of man is he, this Shahid? I could tell nothing from his voice, though he speaks English as if he was born here. Is he young, is he old, is he here in London?’
‘Old man, you ask too many questions.’ The man’s phone rang and he answered it, then passed the phone to El-Sayed. ‘He wants to talk to you.’
It was Shahid. ‘Do you still want to help the fight, brother?’ asked Shahid.
‘Yes, of course,’ said El-Sayed. ‘Nothing would make me happier.’
‘And you are prepared to commit five million pounds to the cause?’
‘Yes,’ said El-Sayed. ‘If it means you will return my son to me, I will.’
‘And you are in a position to do that now?’
‘I can do it over the phone,’ said El-Sayed. ‘That is how hawala works.’
‘I know exactly how it works,’ said Shahid. ‘You make a call to the designated location. You give a codeword and an amount. No matter who turns up at the location, if they have the codeword they get the money. What I was asking is, do you have the money to transfer right now?’
‘I do.’
‘I have spoken to my colleagues and they have decided that, provided you make the transfers now, we can release your son and replace him with another hostage.’
‘Al-hamdu lillahi rabbil’alamin,’ said El-Sayed. ‘All praises be to Allah, the Lord of the Alamin.’
‘I will give you five locations. And five codewords. The money is to be available immediately. If it is not, the deal is off and I do not talk to you again.’