by Chris Ryan
‘In fact,’ Angel added, ‘talking to your captors is a good idea, if they let you. Hostage-takers don’t want to think of their hostages as real people. If they do, it makes it harder to kill them when the time comes. Try to make friends. Talk about your family – real or invented. Talk about your hobbies and your life outside the siege. Don’t allow them to dehumanise you. It won’t work on all of them, but there’s often a weak link somewhere in the terrorist team. You might be able to use that to your advantage.’
‘Just be smart,’ Woody said. ‘Think carefully about whether you’re softening the terrorists up or making them more aware of you – and therefore more likely to kill you when the shooting starts.’
‘How do we know?’ Sami asked.
‘You don’t,’ Hector said grimly. ‘You have to think on your feet.’
The police sirens stopped. Hector checked his watch. ‘We should be there any moment,’ he said.
A minute later, the van came to an abrupt halt. The side door slid open and an armed man in a black flak jacket, wearing a helmet with a boom mike, barked at them to follow him. The recruits bundled out. Max took in his surroundings. They were at the perimeter of the school. It was a network of ordinary-looking brick buildings surrounded by high green metal railings. They were alongside a playground with hopscotch and football pitch markings painted on the tarmac. Against a far wall was a huge, colourful painting that looked like it had been done by children. The area outside the railings was a mass of police cars and armoured military vehicles. There were perhaps thirty men and woman, all armed and flak-jacketed, talking into radios and calling instructions to each other. This area was cordoned off. There were no civilians. But Max could see, at the end of the road leading to the school, a guarded barrier. Here, members of the public were being held back. Max could see a couple of TV cameras. Instinctively, he turned away from them. He didn’t want his face appearing on any news reports that the terrorists happened to be watching.
There was a newsagent’s on the other side of the road. Hector led them into it. It had been turned into a makeshift operations centre, manned by about ten adults, some in police uniform, others in military gear. Cables snaked all over the floor, laptops had been set up in every available space, and a display board was propped up against the newspaper racks. It showed a set of building plans. They gathered round it.
‘This is a plan of the school building,’ Hector said. They all looked hard at it. The main buildings were shaped like a ‘C’. Hector pointed out the furthest away line of buildings. ‘This is the main teaching block,’ he said. ‘We believe it’s deserted. We’re calling it Block Red. The biggest room in the building is here.’ He pointed to a large room on the south side of the school. ‘This is the dining hall. It also doubles as a gym. There is a stage for plays at the east end, and it adjoins the kitchen at the west end. This is Block Green. Adjoining the north-west corner here is a toilet and shower block. Block Blue. To the best of our knowledge, the terrorists are holding the hostages in Block Green, the dining hall. Is everything clear so far?’
The recruits nodded.
‘There are long windows along each side of Block Green,’ Hector continued. ‘These are covered with blinds. However, we have special optics available which allow us to see shadows through these blinds. At any one time, there appear to be three or four adults standing by them. From the shape of their shadows, it looks like they’re armed. So you need to infiltrate Block Green.’
‘How are we supposed to do that?’ Lukas asked. ‘Walk up and knock on the door?’
The plans showed a main entrance to Block Green on the south side, from the playground. The railings that surrounded the school were marked on the plan. They formed a neat rectangle.
‘We’re here,’ Hector said, pointing to the railings on the plan. ‘The main entrance to the school is here, on the south-west corner. There’s also a goods entrance here, behind this administrative building – Block Yellow. We’ve identified that as your best entrance. We have a nano drone up above it that tells us it’s unmanned.’ He pointed to one of the laptops, which showed clear aerial footage of a metal gate wide enough for a van to enter. The gate was closed and there was nobody in the vicinity.
‘That doesn’t make sense,’ Max said.
Hector gave him a sharp look. ‘Go on,’ he said.
‘Why is it so easy to get in? Why isn’t there a gunman covering the entrance?’
‘We don’t know,’ Hector said quietly. ‘I guess we’ll find out.’ He cleared his throat. ‘We’ll get that gate open for you. You’ll need to move behind Block Yellow then head straight into the teaching block. Follow the corridor that leads along the west side of the school and enter the toilet block by this entrance here.’
‘How do we know the doors will be unlocked?’ Abby asked.
‘We’ve spoken to the school caretaker. He’s confirmed that he unlocked the school fully this morning. We don’t believe the terrorists have keys, but they may have barricaded themselves in.’ He pointed at the map again. ‘They will need to let the children out to use the toilet. That means there will be young people coming and going from Block Blue, the toilets, into Block Green, the dining room. You need to take advantage of that.’
‘What if they’re counting people in and out of the toilet block?’ Max said.
‘When you enter, we’ll create a distraction in the opposite corner of the school. An explosion. That should get their attention and give you time to slip into the toilet block and from there into the main hall. Once you’re inside, your objective is to give us full details of the situation. After that, you’ll need to wait for further instructions. Are there any questions?’
There was an anxious silence.
Hector nodded. ‘Good,’ he said. ‘We’ll do a quick comms test. Then we’re moving in.’
13
Advance to Target
The comms test took no more than five minutes. A voice Max didn’t recognise spoke into his earpiece. The recruits replied. When they had confirmed that two-way communications were operational, Hector led them back to the transit van. Max heard someone wailing from behind the cordon. Maybe a family member of one of the hostages? Looking up, he saw two police helicopters circling. He realised he was sweating.
‘We’re taking the long way round to the north-west corner of the playground,’ Hector explained as the transit moved away. ‘The terrorists may have people beyond the cordon watching us. The driver will make sure we’re not being followed, then will drop you a short walk from the goods entrance. You’ll approach on foot.’ He looked around at the recruits. ‘It’s not too late to drop out,’ he said. ‘If you’re having second thoughts, say so now. This is the real deal.’
Silence.
It took five minutes to deliver the recruits to their drop-off point. Max could feel the vehicle circle a roundabout several times to flush out anyone following them. When they came to a halt, Max checked the time. 12:57. A voice came over his earpiece.
– This is Zero Alpha. Do you copy, Cadet Force?
The recruits looked at each other uncertainly.
‘Roger that,’ Max replied tentatively. He found that the military jargon came naturally to him.
– Drone footage shows that the access route is clear. Advance to target. Repeat, advance to target.
‘Go!’ Hector barked as the transit door slid open. And as they bundled out of the van, he shouted again. ‘Hey!’
The recruits turned to look at him.
‘Stay alive, recruits. Remember, this is not an exercise.’
He looked grim. It wasn’t the most encouraging send-off Max had ever heard.
Woody and Angel were waiting outside the van. They were in a deserted, litter-strewn street with three-storey townhouses on either side. Angel pointed. ‘That way,’ she said quietly. ‘The area has been cleared. We’re inside the police cordon so you shouldn’t see any members of the public. Take a left at the end. You’ll see the goods entrance. Go car
efully and stay in contact as much as you can.’ She fist-bumped each of them in turn. ‘And guys: work together, okay? That’s the most important thing. You’re a team now.’
The truth was, they didn’t feel like a team to Max. He sensed that both Lukas and Jack saw themselves as leaders. They almost shoulder-barged each other as they ran in the direction Angel had indicated. Max, Sami and Abby followed. At the street corner they all stopped and looked to the left. Sure enough, there was the goods entrance to the school. There was a large area of tarmac beyond it, leading to the administration offices: Block Yellow.
It was strangely quiet. Apart from the distant hum of the circling helicopters, Max could hear nothing. He would have expected a terrorist incident to be noisier. But it was the silence, he realised, that was so strange. This was the middle of London. It was supposed to be noisy and busy. It was dead quiet because something was very wrong.
‘We should go one by one,’ Max said. ‘That way, if one of us is spotted …’
‘Yeah, I get it,’ Lukas said without looking at him. ‘I’ll go first.’ It was weird, hearing his voice both in real life and over the comms earpiece.
Without waiting for a reply, Lukas ran in the direction of Block Yellow. Despite his muscular build, he was fast and light of foot. As soon as he reached the building, he hid on the side furthest from the main school block. It meant he was out of sight of the other recruits, but they heard his voice over the comms.
– It’s me, Lukas. I’m in position on the west side of Block Yellow.
– Roger that. The comms reply was crackly.
Abby went next, then Sami. Max and Jack watched them go. When they were alone, Jack turned to Max. ‘Do what I tell you in there,’ he said, very quietly so that the comms team would have trouble hearing him. ‘Remember that you didn’t pass selection. You’re not really one of us.’
Max tapped his earpiece, as if to say, ‘I’ll do what the Watchers tell me.’ They heard Sami’s voice.
– In position.
Jack scowled at Max, then ran towards Block Yellow.
It felt weird, being on his own. The silence was oppressive. Max looked back over his shoulder. That way lay safety. In the school, danger. He could still choose one over the other, if he wanted …
Jack’s voice over the comms.
– In position.
Which meant it was Max’s turn to go. He sprinted through the school gates, scanning the area ahead as he ran, looking for any movement or threats. There were none. He found the others with their backs to the wall on the west side of Block Yellow.
‘Don’t you think it’s weird,’ Max said quietly, ‘that we can enter the school grounds so easily? You’d think the terrorists would have guards or lookouts or something.’
‘They’re probably scared of snipers,’ Sami said.
‘Yeah, maybe,’ Max said. ‘But I think it means they’re very sure they’ve got all the kids under control, and that they can do something pretty bad if they suspect a rescue team is coming in.’
Nobody had an answer to that. Lukas and Jack didn’t even seem to have heard what Max said. Lukas took the lead again. He led them round the north end of the building and pointed at a door to the main teaching block. ‘I’m going to check it’s unlocked,’ Lukas said. ‘If it is, follow me in.’
Max was about to say, ‘If we don’t start working together, this is going to end badly …’ But he didn’t get the chance. Lukas didn’t wait for anyone to agree or disagree with the plan. He simply sprinted across the open ground to the door. He opened it and slipped inside. Without waiting for any kind of agreement, the others followed, in the same order as before. Again, Max found himself momentarily alone, scanning the area carefully. Nothing. Just that uncanny silence. If he didn’t know what was really happening, he’d think the school was deserted.
When Jack had disappeared into the building, Max followed. He felt vulnerable running across the open tarmac. Instinctively, he ran crouched over, to present a smaller target, just in case. But he reached the building unharmed.
He found himself with the others in an empty corridor with a shiny grey vinyl floor. The lights were on. The walls were covered with children’s artwork: collages and pastel drawings. There were classrooms on either side of the corridor. By each classroom was an alcove where the children had messily stashed their bags and coats. There was a familiar smell. It was a mixture of poster paints and cleaning products that Max recognised from his own school.
Once again, Lukas took the lead. They followed him along the corridor. Max had a good sense of direction. He knew they were heading south, and his memory of the school plan was clear. As they passed the classrooms and alcoves, he realised that the kitchen was up ahead and the toilet block was at the end of the corridor on their left. Their feet echoed as they hurried in that direction. Anxiety rose in Max’s gut like bile. It went against every instinct to head towards danger rather than away from it. But right now, that was their job.
They reached the door to the toilet block. It had stick drawings of both a boy and a girl on it. Lukas pushed it very slightly to check it was unlocked.
The door remained firmly shut. It was locked.
The recruits stared dumbly at it. What now?
Jack pointed to the end of the corridor. There was a door marked ‘Kitchen: Staff Only’. They knew from the school plans that the kitchen led directly into the dining hall where the hostages were being held. Lukas and Jack looked at each other, as if silently conferring without any input from the others.
‘I don’t think we should go in via the kitchen,’ Abby said. ‘There could be guards in there.’
Hector’s voice came over the comms.
– Cadet Force, what’s your status?
‘The toilet block is locked,’ Jack said.
– Wait.
There was a short pause. The cadets stood silently, unsure what to do. Then Hector’s voice came over the comms again.
– The caretaker must have forgotten to unlock the toilet door. You’re going to have to access Block Green through the kitchen. Enter the kitchen one by one. When you’re all in there, we’ll create a distraction in the south-east corner of the school. Move, now.
The recruits looked at Lukas. He didn’t seem so keen to be the first one in any more. ‘I’ll do it,’ Max offered. But that seemed to change Lukas’s mind. He shook his head and led them all to the kitchen entrance. Cautiously he opened the door and peered inside. Max couldn’t see through the gap in the door, but he caught a faint whiff of yesterday’s lunch. He felt a bizarre pang of hunger as he realised he hadn’t eaten since the previous night.
Lukas entered the kitchen. The other recruits heard him say, ‘It’s clear.’ Then, one by one, they slipped in after him: Abby, Sami, Jack. Max was preparing to head in after them when his heart almost stopped.
– What are you doing in here? Who are you?
The voice in Max’s earpiece was harsh and foreign. Max shrank back from the kitchen door. He looked around. His eyes fell on the alcove next to the nearest classroom. It was a mess of bags and coats. He ran towards it, squeezed himself into the corner and covered himself with coats. As he hid, he could hear events unfolding in the kitchen over his comms.
– I said, what are you doing in here?
It was Abby who spoke next. She sounded terrified.
– We were trying to escape. We sneaked into the kitchen when you weren’t looking.
It was a good call, Max thought. Make the terrorists think that they were trying to break out, not break in. With so many children inside the hall, they surely wouldn’t be able to recognise them all.
– How many others?
– None.
That was Sami’s voice.
It’s just us.
– Stupid children.
Max heard the door open. He held his breath and kept very still. His skin prickled. He could tell the owner of the voice was looking out into the corridor.
Ten seconds passed
.
Twenty.
He heard the door close and exhaled very slowly. Then he heard the foreign voice again.
– Get back in there with the others, or I’ll shoot you here!
There was a scuffling sound over the comms. Max pictured his four companions being bundled into the dining room. Even now he didn’t move. His brain was all over the place. What should he do? Run away? Go after them? Could he really risk trying to enter from the kitchen now?
He spoke quietly. ‘It’s Max. The others have been captured.’
Hector’s voice was tense.
– Where are you?
‘Hiding in the corridor.’
– Stay there for now. The rest of you, listen up. I know you can’t reply at the moment, but I want you all to keep an eye on the door to the kitchen. If any of you see that it’s not being watched, cough three times. Max, when you hear that signal, move into the kitchen. When you’re in position, let us know. Wait until you hear another three coughs, then enter Block Green. Is that understood?
‘Weren’t you going to create a distraction?’
– This is better, now we have people on the inside.
‘If you say so.’ It hardly sounded foolproof to Max.
– Then stand by. And Max?
‘Yeah?’
– This is not a time for errors.
Thanks for the warning, Max thought, but he didn’t say it.
Time passed. Max didn’t know how long. Five minutes? Ten? Over the comms, he could hear a low hum of voices from inside the dining room. The occasional person shouting for quiet. A low hum of other voices. Crying. When the three coughs came, however, they were louder than the other noises. Max couldn’t identify who had given the signal. Sami, perhaps. He emerged from his hiding place and, checking he was still alone, crept to the kitchen door. He took a deep breath, then stepped inside.
The kitchen was immaculate. There were metal counters and huge pots and pans on shelves, but no sign of food preparation. Max guessed the terrorists had struck before the kitchen staff had started to prepare lunch. There was a metal partition between the kitchen and the dining hall, but it was shut. A single door in one corner was the only way in. Max approached it.