Sure enough a taxi arrived just before eight and the three of them would soon be whisked off to somewhere expensive; Colin decided to set off towards Knightsbridge. Okay, he didn’t have a clue where they might go, but he knew it wasn’t a drive through McDonalds and his research had pinpointed the general areas they could get the sort of dinner they were used to. There was nothing else for it; he picked one of his short cuts and prayed they were heading towards the Brompton Road. He cut across to the Danish Embassy and up Hans Road. He jogged most of the way arriving about twelve minutes later.
Colin allowed for the time it would take to get the three of them out of the house, into the cab and then negotiate the evening traffic; he was convinced he would miss them by a couple of minutes. They could be half a mile away in either direction. This was pointless. He was breathing hard and looking left and right on the old A4; he spotted a taxi coming out of the road almost opposite.
“You beauty” he exclaimed, checking the number against the one he’d scribbled on the top of the FT.
They were dining at Montpeliano’s; one of the best restaurants in London. Typical Athena, Colin remembered the quality of those first meals at Larcombe Manor before he’d been shown to his real quarters in the stable block. Her and her family were a class act alright.
He couldn’t risk getting too close, but there were dozens of places of interest to occupy him for an hour or two; a quiet drink; a snack; a read of the newspaper and then a stroll up and down opposite the restaurant in Montpelier Street. It was half past ten before he knew it.
The door opened under the blue canopy and a group of people emerged from the busy restaurant. A taxi pulled forward from twenty yards further down the street and stopped to pick them up. Colin had started to walk towards the main road and as he turned the corner and pressed himself up against the building, in the shadows, the taxi passed him and he recognised Athena’s father sat facing the back of the cab.
“Nearly time for me to clock off and have a good night’s sleep” said Colin as he trotted back to their family home, retracing his earlier steps. The taxi had dropped them off and disappeared by the time he got to Vincent Gardens; there were lights on both upstairs and down, the people in his care were safe and sound until the morning.
After a healthy rather than a hearty breakfast in the morning, Colin was packed and ready to leave the hotel by seven thirty. As Athena and her parents were due at Harley Street for an eleven o’clock appointment, he decided to go to Paddington, drop his kit off in Left Luggage and then get back to start babysitting duties. He couldn’t be certain when Athena would return to Larcombe, but Erebus was adamant she should return today; so, unless she elected to ride on the last train of the day, Colin would be on the one behind her. The risk of being on the same train was too great.
After the cold snap yesterday, Thursday morning had heralded a slightly warmer day and the sun was shining brightly. It was a great start! Colin took up his post by just after a quarter past eight. All was quiet. The red door remained firmly shut.
Colin looked up and down the street. He saw an electric milk float making its way from delivery to delivery; other than that nothing. It was odd that such a busy city should experience these occasional moments of calm; odd and a little worrying Colin thought, is it the calm before a storm?
In Milton Keynes one of the disposable cell phones buzzed. It was a text message.
‘Meet at Oxford Circus. Today 1.30pm’
“It is time” said Karim as he read the message.
“Let us read from the Quran” Irfan said “that we may become worthy martyrs and kill many infidels.
The three young men gathered together and embraced. This was their destiny. In just over six hours their work on earth would be done. As Irfan and Karim started to read, Arshad referred to the train and tube times to have all the details to hand for their journey.
At Larcombe Manor the surveillance team were alerted by an unusual piece of traffic. They had picked up a direct message from Pakistan to the address in Milton Keynes; no intermediary in Birmingham or Leicester had been used on this occasion. The order had been given!
Erebus and the three remaining senior members met briefly to decide on what action to take. They ordered an immediate strike on the Milton Keynes address. The agents who had been carrying out the surveillance of the property were unarmed; in case they attracted the attention of the police, but there were several other Olympus personnel within an hour’s drive from the maisonette who could provide the firepower this sortie needed.
Five armed men, dressed from head to toe in black, burst through the door of the property in Milton Keynes all set to take out the three would be bombers before they left for London. The maisonette was deserted.
“The birds have flown” the squad’s leader reported to Larcombe “repeat, the birds have flown.”
Erebus had already planned his next moves; he instructed Brad the squad leader to leave the items he had been told to take with him on the raid. He was to leave contact numbers and names for the cell members in Birmingham and Leicester. They were to appear to be casually left by the bombers, perhaps tucked into a copy of the Quran to highlight a favourite text or in a bedside drawer.
They were for the security services to discover and thereby give them the pleasure of cleaning up the remnants of the cell. They just needed to be careful not to make it look like the information had been planted there. MI5 would receive an anonymous tip off later today; regardless of the outcome in London. Erebus hoped they would still have time to stop the bombers; before someone would have to clean up the remnants of them and heaven knows how many innocent people in Oxford Circus.
The squad were to proceed to the next stage immediately that task was completed. They were to change into civilian clothes, carry concealed weapons and travel to London. Erebus calculated that they should be at the tube station by noon at the latest. This gave them ninety minutes to trace the bombers and neutralise them. All this had to be done without alerting the public, the police and the security services; not to mention the bombers themselves!
To reinforce the attack squad from Milton Keynes, Erebus ordered Rusty to take two men with him and to drive to London.
“I know I can rely on you Rusty” he said “it’s all hands on deck for this one; ring Phoenix on this number and add him to your crew. The more eyes and ears we have at Oxford Circus the better. It’s going to be like finding three needles in a haystack! A haystack that has eighty five million people a year bustling through it!
Rusty and his men were heading for the M4 in an unmarked car within thirty minutes. A team of paramedics followed behind at a more sedate pace in the ambulance. Erebus wanted a means of bringing the bombers back to Larcombe alive, if possible. He had also had to consider an additional scenario. If there were Olympus casualties he wanted them returned to Larcombe for treatment or burial. They couldn’t afford to leave anyone behind on this mission.
In Belgravia Colin watched as yet another taxi arrived to collect Athena and her parents. They had a fifteen minute journey to make to Harley Street. He would be there on foot in thirty five minutes if he pushed it. His mobile phone vibrated in his pocket.
“Who the heck is that?” he wondered. There was no ID on the caller.
“Yes?” he asked.
“Morning Phoenix, it’s me Rusty; the shit’s hit the fan mate. Get over to Oxford Circus tube station for twelve o’clock. No funny cracks mate but we’ll meet you outside Top Shop on Oxford Street. I’ll fill you in then.