by KJ Griffin
***
Al-Ajnabi was relieved to see that the wall of armed policemen and reporters had vanished after the explosion. Only a few soldiers now slunk under cover in recesses and doorways. Most of the steel barricades had been blown helter-skelter across St Margaret Street and the Old Palace Yard by the force of the Victoria Tower bomb.
Al-Ajnabi quickened his pace and made for Poets' Corner.
‘Hold it right there, please,’ chorused a group of three armed soldiers. ‘Have you come from across the road?’
Al-Ajnabi paused and looked away from the soldiers back across the street. Even in the half-light, without the aid of the searchlights, the extent of the damage looked immense.
The bomb must have ripped a hole in the northeast corner of Victoria Tower, causing it to topple diagonally towards the river, crushing the Lords and most of the southern end of the Palace, no doubt. A macabre section of the Tower, furthest from the centre of the blast still stood, but there were fires still burning in at least two places.
On this side of the road there was damage, too, and there must have been casualties. Glass covered the pavements and Al-Ajnabi didn't need to guess too hard that much of it must have come from the Abbey's stained glass windows.
‘My God! Look at what the bastards did!’ Al-Ajnabi murmured. Ironically, he meant it, too.
‘Have you come from in there, sir?’ the sergeant asked him more sympathetically.
‘That's right,’ Al-Ajnabi nodded back. ‘The name's Clayton, Max Clayton of MI6.’
The sergeant produced a torch and scrutinized the security ID badge on his lapel, then flashed the spotlight onto Al-Ajnabi's face.
Despite the glass cuts on his head and the crushing fatigue, Al-Ajnabi's heart raced as the sergeant took a good look at his features. From inside the Palace, Al-Ajnabi thought he could still hear sporadic bursts of gunfire, and they filled him with mixed feelings of guilt and anxiety.
‘OK, sir, but we've got strict instructions to take anyone from inside not seriously injured to a secure debriefing zone in the Government Offices across Parliament Square.’
Al-Ajnabi smiled cheerily, trying to think and act like Max would have done.
‘I think I can do better than that, Sergeant,’ he replied. ‘I've got to talk to Commissioner Dinsdale and Superintendent MacSween urgently in the Command Centre in the Guildhall. So why don't you let them vouch for me, eh?’
The sergeant shrugged.
‘That's fine by me, Sir. Private Tasker will accompany you there.’
Al-Ajnabi rubbed his eyes, sounding tired.
‘OK, let's go then, Private.’
Tasker led the way round the Abbey; soon they facing the Guildhall, the front of which was filled with a mass of police, army and military vehicles. He could even see a couple of tanks.
Al-Ajnabi patted Tasker on the shoulder.
‘Look, this is a bit embarrassing, but would you mind if I grabbed a change of clothes from the car before we go into the Command Centre, Private?’
Tasker looked dubious.
‘I'm not supposed to let anyone go beyond the security barrier before they've been cleared. Even you, Sir.’
Al-Ajnabi squared up to Tasker and smiled awkwardly.
"Look… umm… when the bomb went off in there… well, let's just say I had a bit of an accident – you know, down below. I can't go in to meet the top brass in this state, can I?’
Al-Ajnabi could see he was winning. Tasker smiled back conspiratorially.
‘Where are you parked, sir?’
‘Just across the road there in Parker Street. I shan't be a minute.’
‘OK, sir, but I'd better come with you.’
‘If you want.’
They crossed the road, walking away from the Guildhall to the Conference Centre, where the outer security cordon barred access to and from the outside world. Just across the street lay freedom. Al-Ajnabi felt his throat tighten.
Tasker tapped two of the armed policemen on the shoulder. Al-Ajnabi flashed his pass. The bearded policeman checked it carefully, then let them through.
Al-Ajnabi walked away from the steel barricades with a welling sense of euphoria, throbbing in time to the steady wail of sirens all around. Only Tasker to deal with now.
As soon as he spotted the Golf parked almost a few yards past the corner on the left hand side he stopped short and turned towards Tasker.
‘Look, do you mind if I clean up a little in private inside the car? It won't take me a couple of minutes. Bit embarrassing really, isn't it?’
Tasker flushed awkwardly.
‘I'll wait for you here, then.’
Al-Ajnabi swallowed hard and found the keys, striding out towards the car. He opened the door casually and waited for a while before getting in, pretending to fumble with something on the passenger seat. Looking up, he caught Tasker's eye and the soldier looked away.
Al-Ajnabi saw knew his moment had come. Like a seasoned car thief he slipped into the driver's seat, started the engine and drove away all in one movement. Ahead lay freedom. Behind only a confused soldier.