He held it away from her and pushed her with his left hand. ‘You’re fucking crazy!’
‘Madam, please, will you stop resisting!’ shouted the armed cop. ‘Just get on the coach!’
Rebecca turned to him. ‘Do your fucking job, why don’t you? Shoot the fucker. He’s a fucking terrorist and he deserves to die so do your fucking job and shoot him.’
‘Lady, please stop this,’ said Hussain. ‘I’m sorry about what happened to your family. But it wasn’t my fault.’
Rebecca spat at him. ‘No, but this is your fucking fault. You handcuffed yourself to me, you chose me, so fuck you.’ She grinned. ‘Maybe your God is fucking with you the way my God fucked with me. Do you get that, Call-Me-Ismail? Maybe your God wanted you to choose me. He does move in fucking mysterious ways, doesn’t he?’
‘Lady, please stop this,’ said Hussain. She lunged at his right hand again and he kept it well away from her. ‘If we don’t get on the coach, everyone will die,’ he pleaded.
‘Don’t care,’ she said.
‘Everyone on the coach will die, too. And there are hostages on it. And a driver. They’ll have families, too. Do you want to hurt their families the way you’ve been hurt?’
‘Don’t care,’ she said again, but less vehemently this time.
‘Lady, really, I’m sorry,’ said Hussain. ‘I’m so, so sorry about what happened to your family. The bastard who did it should burn in Hell. And shame on him for running away. But that has nothing to do with what’s happening here.’
‘Madam, please get on the coach now!’ shouted the armed cop.
‘Shut the fuck up!’ screamed Hussain. ‘Can’t you see she’s in pain?’ He put his face closer to the woman, but kept the trigger behind his back. ‘Lady, please, just help me do this. I don’t want to be here any more than you do. I just want to go home.’
Tears were running down the woman’s face. ‘I miss them.’
‘I know you do,’ said Hussain. ‘And I’m sorry.’
Rebecca began to howl and before he knew what he was doing, Hussain had stepped forward and embraced her. He felt her press against the explosives strapped to his chest, and gently patted her on the back. ‘I’m sorry,’ he whispered.
‘I want my husband and my daughter back,’ she sobbed.
The armed police officers looked at each other, not sure what to do.
‘You have to get on the coach with me,’ he said. ‘Nothing bad is going to happen. I promise you.’
‘It’s already happened,’ she said. ‘I want to die. Just press the fucking button and end it for me. Please.’
‘I can’t,’ he said. ‘It’s not up to me. And if we do what we’re supposed to do, then everyone goes home.’
‘I don’t want to go home,’ she said. ‘Please, please, please, end it for me now.’
‘You have to be strong for your husband and daughter,’ he said. ‘You have to keep their memories alive. Do you think they would want you to die? Of course they wouldn’t. They’d want you to enjoy every minute of your life here. And then, when it’s your time, you can join them in Heaven. But now’s not the time. You don’t have to die and I don’t have to die, and the people on that coach don’t have to die.’ He patted her on the back again. ‘Now come on, walk with me. One step at a time.’ He put his left hand around her waist and guided her towards the coach, keeping his right hand held high so that the police could see it.
He got her to the coach door, then went up the stairs backwards so that he could lead her up. She kept her head down as she sobbed.
‘Come on, we haven’t got all day,’ snapped the driver.
Hussain stared at him with dead eyes. ‘You need to stay quiet,’ he said. ‘She’s not well.’
The driver gazed back at him, then nodded slowly. ‘Okay. But we’re on a tight deadline. Please try to hurry her along.’
Hussain put his left hand out and she took it. He led her down the coach. There were two Asian men wearing suicide vests, one sitting next to a young woman, the other beside a robed priest.
Hussain sat down behind the man next to the priest and smiled up at Rebecca. ‘Please sit down,’ he said.
She sniffed and did as he asked. The priest twisted around in his seat and offered her a red handkerchief. She took it, thanked him, and dabbed at her eyes.
Hussain saw the driver watching him in the rear-view mirror. Hussain nodded and the driver nodded back. The door closed and the coach lurched forward.
LAMBETH CENTRAL COMMUNICATIONS COMMAND CENTRE (5.27 p.m.)
‘What just happened there?’ asked Gillard, who was watching the screen showing the Sky News feed from the news crew outside the Fulham post office. The coach was pulling away, flanked by police motorcyclists.
‘It looked like the hostage was freaking out,’ said Kamran. ‘Hardly surprising, considering the stress she’s under.’
The Sky News feed was replaced by an overhead view from one of the Met’s helicopters showing the police van en route to Biggin Hill.
‘I just hope everyone stays calm,’ said Gillard. ‘At least until we get them to the airport.’
‘Sir, we have a feed from the hangar now,’ Lumley called, from the Gold Command suite. ‘It’s only black and white and there’s no sound but the picture’s clear.’
Kamran and Gillard walked back to the sergeant’s station. The feed was on his left-hand screen. The camera had been put up near the roof and was looking down at the centre of the hangar, focused on a coach that was a match to the one that was picking up the bombers and their hostages. ‘Make sure we have everything recorded, in duplicate, if possible,’ said Gillard. Murray appeared at the door to the suite and Gillard waved him over. ‘You might like to see this, Alex,’ he said. ‘Your guys are rehearsing taking the coach.’
As the captain joined them, three SAS troopers ran up to the front of the vehicle and two approached the rear. Unlike the coach that was being used to collect the bombers and the hostages, the windows were clear and they could see a single figure sitting in the driver’s seat.
‘That’s Jim Hawkins,’ said Murray. ‘He’s a sergeant.’
The two men at the rear of the coach had the door open and they charged inside, holding handguns. At the exact moment they entered the coach, the first of the three troopers at the front launched himself up the stairs. The driver stood up, twisted and aimed a gun down the coach. Almost immediately the second and third troopers piled in. They were all waving handguns. Then they stopped. Murray was frowning. ‘Two and a half seconds,’ he said. ‘It’s good but it’s not good enough.’
The troopers filed out of the coach. The two at the back closed the door, then moved out of view. Sergeant Hawkins sat down again.
‘Do you think it’s doable?’ asked Kamran. ‘Can they shoot all the bombers quickly enough?’
Murray screwed up his face. ‘Hand on heart, I don’t see how it’s possible,’ he said. ‘You have to take out all nine before any of them has time to press the trigger.’
‘What about snipers shooting through the windows?’
‘When they’re blacked out? They’d be guessing. And if they missed they’d risk hitting the hostages.’
‘Is there anything else we can do?’ asked Kamran.