The Chinook’s engines roared and it lifted off, heading back to Hereford. The men kept their heads turned away from the rotor blast and the major waited until the deafening roar had faded before continuing. ‘This is how it’s going to work,’ he said. ‘You’re to be attached to the various armed police units attending the four incidents around the capital. You will be acting under the orders of the local Silver Commander in each case. For those of you not familiar with the way the cops operate, a Silver Commander is in charge on site. Usually an inspector but not always. He in turn reports to a Gold Commander, who in this case is at the special operations room in Lambeth. The Gold Commander decides overall strategy, the Silver Commander makes decisions on the ground. You do what the Silver Commander says. But I also want you using our own comms to stay in touch with Captain Alex Murray. He’s in the SOR so he’ll always have the big picture.’
The men nodded. Most of them were chewing gum, the only sign of the building tension.
‘Under no circumstances are you even to think of firing your weapon without being ordered to do so by the Silver Commander,’ said the major. ‘At the moment the cops are running the show so we have to play by their rules.’
‘What about if we come under attack, boss?’ asked a trooper. Ben Peyton was one of the youngest members of the group, though he had already seen plenty of action in Afghanistan and Syria. He was the linguist specialist in his four-man patrol, fluent in Arabic and French.
‘The intel we have is that the targets are only armed with suicide bombs,’ said Major Williams. ‘No guns, no knives, just a vest full of explosives. They won’t be attacking you. The risk is that they self-detonate and take out everyone close by. At the moment the police are containing them and are preparing to negotiate. Our task is to support the armed police units as they are now stretched thin. We’re in a support role in the first instance, but my personal feeling is that will change fairly soon. But until it does, you follow the Silver Commander’s orders to the letter.’
The men nodded, their faces impassive.
‘As soon as you’ve deployed, I suggest you all grab some cop kit so that you blend in. We’re under orders not to cover our faces so no ski masks or balaclavas. Dark glasses are fine, but the best way of staying below the radar is to blend. Understood?’ More nods. ‘So, any questions or are we good to go?’ The major looked down at his clipboard and began reading out their assignments. As soon as their name was called the troopers would pick up their kitbags and jog over to the waiting SUVs. Five minutes later they were all being whisked across the capital.
LAMBETH CENTRAL COMMUNICATIONS COMMAND CENTRE (12.05 p.m.)
Joe Lumley twisted in his seat and waved his hand to get Kamran’s attention. ‘Lisa Elphick from the press office wants to know if you can spare her a minute or two.’ He pointed to the large viewing window at the far end of the special operations room. A blonde woman in her mid-thirties in a black blazer and white skirt was standing there. She gave Kamran a small wave when he saw her. He grinned and beckoned her in. She walked quickly over to the Gold Command suite and air-kissed him on both cheeks. Kamran had worked with the chief press officer on several occasions and always admired her professionalism and no-nonsense approach. She was totally trustworthy, which was a breath of fresh air in an organisation where the key to climbing the greasy pole of promotion depended, more often than not, on stabbing someone else in the back. ‘Busy day, I gather,’ she said.
‘You always were a master of understatement,’ he said.
‘How many now?’
‘Five,’ said Kamran.
‘Twitter’s gone into meltdown,’ she said. ‘We’re getting copied into a lot of it so our feed is being overwhelmed. They’re letting their hostages tweet, which is a first.’
‘A first here, maybe, but it happened during that ISIS attack in Paris. It helps to spread the word.’
‘Hashtag ISIS6 is what they’re using now. Some of the hostages are even posting selfies.’
Kamran looked over at Lumley. ‘Let’s get that checked, Joe,’ he said. ‘See if there are any decent pictures we can use.’ He sat down and smiled at Elphick. ‘So, how can I help you, Lisa?’
‘We’ve had a request from the media, obviously. They want a pool journo in the SOR. Ideally one TV crew and one print.’
Kamran shook his head. ‘No can do,’ he said.
‘I thought as much, but I had to ask.’
‘There’s too much operational stuff on the screens,’ said Kamran. ‘And too much info being shouted about.’
‘I already explained that,’ she said. ‘I said that afterwards, when it’s been resolved, we can give them a press conference here and show them around but that’s it.’
‘That would certainly be doable,’ said Kamran.
‘I’ve had requests for interviews with Bomb Squad and firearms spokespeople but I’ve explained that we’re swamped,’ said the press officer. ‘At the moment they’re getting most of their info from social media. I thought it might be helpful if I put a couple of press officers here full time and they can feed information out. Information that you want out there, obviously.’
‘That sounds like a plan. But I’d prefer them to run everything through Sergeant Lumley, just to be on the safe side. There’s a lot of operation information that we don’t want out there.’
‘I’ll make sure that happens,’ said Elphick. ‘Now, in terms of talking to the TV, do you want to do that?’
‘I won’t have time, Lisa. Can’t the deputy commissioner do it?’
‘I think he’s trying to distance himself from the operational side,’ she said.
‘In case the shit hits the fan?’ Kamran grinned. ‘Can’t blame him, can you? Did he put my name in the frame?’
‘He said the best spokesman would be someone involved directly.’
‘To be honest, I might be running the SOR but I think the spokesman needs to be at a higher level.’
‘It really is a poisoned chalice, isn’t it?’
‘Unless it gets resolved, in which case they’ll all be falling over themselves to talk to the press. Why don’t you step up, Lisa? You know how to handle journalists.’
‘They want someone in uniform,’ she said.
Lumley looked up from his screens. ‘We’ve managed to get a live feed from inside the shopping centre,’ he said. ‘From inside the actual shop.’
Kamran stood up. ‘Duty calls,’ he said. ‘Sorry.’
‘I’ll send a couple of press officers over,’ she said. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll make sure they keep out of your way. And let me know if you change your mind about going on TV.’
Elphick waved, and as she left Kamran went over to Lumley’s desk and peered over his shoulder. There was a black and white CCTV image of a young Asian man handcuffed to an even younger girl. Half a dozen women of various ages were huddled in a corner. Kamran couldn’t tell if they were staff or shoppers. The quality wasn’t great but it was good enough to see what was going on. The man was holding something in his right hand. The trigger to the explosives, presumably. He was shouting something at the women. Several of them were holding their mobile phones.
‘How are we getting this?’ asked Kamran.
‘The videos in the stores all feed through to a central control room, mainly so they can watch out for shoplifters,’ said Lumley. ‘After Seven/Seven we started talking to all the centre owners about direct video feeds, and most of them now have it in place.’