Radical Reaction

by Dawn Marsanne

  **

  Joe was driving erratically. He wasn’t used to the car and the seat was a bit too far back for him as Adam was taller. He hadn’t time to stop and adjust it though. He could already hear the sirens and he had no idea which way they might approach. His mission had been to target a mosque in the evening when the worshippers emerged from prayers at the end of Ramadan but now it wasn’t possible. There was no way he could get on a train. Besides the rucksack was too smelly and would be detected. What could he do? He was certain to be caught and then he would have failed. If he was going to be charged with terrorist offences then he would make sure he used his weapon on something.

  He overtook a car and drove along the wrong side of the road towards some oncoming traffic. Horns blared and flashed their headlights at him but he continued. He mounted the pavement to get around some queuing traffic and clipped a litter bin. He ignored a red light and miraculously made it across the junction. He was fired up, running on adrenaline and determined that for once he would make his mark.

  Joe thought about his life. He had always felt it had been mediocre. He had tried his best but he didn’t really seem to be shining in his chosen career. Everything he had achieved had been a struggle whereas other people had things handed to them on a plate. He had always lacked confidence. Stretching before him were years of the same mediocrity. His life felt pointless and his only motivation recently had been the comradeship he’d enjoyed with his like-minded friends he’d met online. For once he felt he’d had a purpose in life. He’d enjoyed the thrill of it and the praise they’d showered on him. He was useful to them and they appreciated him.

  A thought occurred to him. There was a legitimate target much closer than London. Something like this would shake up sleepy Persford which enjoyed a privileged and cosy existence. The old MOD housing had been given to immigrants who had no right to be in the UK. They got benefits to live there whilst others struggled. Warrior had talked about this at length when they had met up.

  ‘Ha!’ he cried out. ‘I’ll teach you bastards!’

  He turned on to Westway and headed out of the town towards the old barracks. Now he could really put his foot down and Adam’s car accelerated with ease. He touched seventy miles per hour as he overtook two cars then cut in front of one of them. He was only about a mile away now. Not long. His goal was in reach. He would pull up when he saw a group of people, throw the rucksack out of the car, drive a distance away and detonate it as instructed.

  **

  Adam had put his head between his knees and that had helped the blood pump back to his brain. A concerned passer-by, a middle-aged lady had stopped and asked if he was OK. She had kindly offered him a bottle of water from her bag and that had helped. They were chatting as a police car pulled up and he realised they were looking for him so he stood and said goodbye to the helpful member of the public.

  ‘Adam Newman?’ said the uniformed officer.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Are you OK sir? You look rather pale.’

  ‘I’m feeling a bit dizzy but someone gave me some water.’

  ‘We’d like you to come to the station and we’ll get someone to check you over. You might need treatment for shock. Also we will need you to speak to an officer from counter-terrorism.’

  ‘OK, of course, whatever you need me to do.’ Adam was ushered into the back of the police car.

  ‘Have you caught him yet?’ he asked anxiously.

  ‘Not yet, sir, but we have all units looking for him. He’ll have been spotted on traffic cameras. We’ll find him.’

  ‘I just wish I’d realised what he was planning.’

  ‘We will take a full statement from you, sir.’

  The car pulled into the flow of traffic and Adam tried to steady his breathing.

  **

  Joe had now entered the old MOD site. He didn’t have long as he thought he had spotted a police car’s flashing lights in the distance as he turned off the main road. He passed some rows of houses but as it was early evening there weren’t that many people around. He drove around the winding roads looking for a suitable target. Towards the centre of the complex, he saw some larger buildings. Outside one was a sign saying Community Centre and to his delight, he saw a few people making their way towards it.

  He felt like whooping with delight. This would have to do. It was nowhere near on the scale of the attack he had planned or more accurately had been planned for him by his masters but it was better than nothing. He pushed the button on the electric window on the driver’s door so he could lob the rucksack through it. He slowed his speed to around ten miles per hour and reached for the bomb. He pulled it but it was caught.

  ‘Shit, Fuck!’ he shouted trying to free it but one of the straps must have got jammed in the door when he got in outside his house. Adam had got out of the driver’s door and he had slid across so the passenger door had never been opened. He tried to lean across to open the door but he couldn’t reach. It was hopeless. What could he do?

  By now the crowd outside the community centre had started to look around at the car which was travelling slowly. Fear spread over their faces. It was if they could sense something was awry. People began to back away. Joe realised he’d been spotted. Should he get out of the car and release the strap? He looked in his mirror in the direction of the sirens. Several police cars were approaching at speed. This was it. The showdown. There was only a split second to decide. Joe turned the car to face the building and pressed his foot flat to the floor. If he couldn’t use his bomb he could run over a couple of people.

  The wheels on the car spun and it headed towards the building at speed. However, the group had already dispersed and the half dozen screaming people threw themselves to the ground. Some people were paralysed with fear and unable to react. The Audi hit them with speed, jettisoning them into the air and continuing on its path into the front of the wooden community centre.

  The airbag inflated engulfing Joe who was momentarily stunned. Part of the wooden structure disintegrated and the door came to rest on the bonnet of the Audi. Police cars screeched to a halt and officers were alighting from their vehicles when there was an explosion. Joe’s bomb had detonated with the shock of the impact. The doors of the car blew open, glass shattered and sprayed over the prostrate figures. The interior of the car caught fire and the flames began to lick the outside of the metal body. Police stood stock still, speaking into their radios and summoning further assistance. They began to drag the petrified victims away to safety as the car’s petrol tank caught fire and exploded. Carnage lay all around and in the aftermath would come the grim task of assessing the full scale of the destruction. For the moment there was screaming and the roar of the flames. The fire from the explosion claimed its creator. Joe’s reign of terror had been short but deadly.

  Chapter 58

  Persford was in shock. All the main news channels sent reporters and outside broadcast vans once it became clear that there had been a terrorist attack. Joe Blackstone had died at the scene along with two innocent victims, a young man and woman who were unrelated and had not long since moved to the area hoping for a better life after their ordeal in Syria. The exact target would remain a secret but the authorities learned from Adam that Joe was planning to travel to London that night. Had that happened the death toll would have been much higher.

  The university was rocked to the core by the fact that a right-wing extremist had been able to operate undetected. They didn’t have proof but it seemed likely that he had been used as a conduit for some of the material being distributed in the internal mail. Exactly when and how he had been radicalised was less clear. Fortunately, he didn’t appear to have been accessing extreme material at the University but when police conducted a forensic search of his phone and laptop they found evidence of internet chat rooms and websites he’d visited using the code name Nimrod.

  Britannia First issued a statement emphasising that they did not endorse terrorism and wanted to bring about change by pea
ceful means. They denied any links with Joe and blamed organisations in Europe for grooming and influencing young people. The University Council increased funds to counter extremism and employed further measures to monitor internet activity.

  All members of Joe’s laboratory were told to stay off site for a couple of days or longer until they had come to terms with the shocking situation. Nick and Polly returned to work on Friday. Both wanted to catch up with paperwork so that they could resume their normal work activities the following week.

  **

  Brett was working from home when his mother phoned.

  ‘Brett, hello, just wondered how you are all coping with the dreadful news?’ she asked.

  ‘Oh, well, it’s been an awful shock. We had no idea the chemist involved was abusing his position or that he’d been radicalised. He seemed to be doing a reasonable job on the project.’

  ‘I guess you never know what’s going on in some people’s heads,’ added his mother.

  ‘No, indeed.’

  ‘Rex is a bit worried it might reflect badly on the company he’s invested in. He’s put a lot of money at stake you know.’

  Brett realised this was the real reason for the call, nothing to do with his well-being.

  ‘It doesn’t affect how well the front-runner drug is doing. That’s undergoing clinical trials at the moment. All seems well. We aren’t listed on the stockmarket yet. So it’s not like the price is influenced so much by events like this.’

  ‘Oh, well, Rex just wonders whether you are vetting people properly. Didn’t you have any idea he was a far-right extremist?’

  ‘Yes, of course, we did, that’s why we took him on,’ said Brett sarcastically.

  ‘There’s no need to be cheeky,’ said his mother. ‘Anyway, there’s another reason I’m phoning.’

  ‘Oh, yes,’ said Brett warily.

  ‘Yes, we want to come and visit you this weekend. We really don’t see enough of you. I thought this time we might be able to stay with you in your guest suite.’

  ‘Sorry, Mum but we’ve got the decorators in. Otherwise, of course, you could stay,’ said Brett.

  ‘Oh,’ said his mother, ‘that’s a shame.’

  ‘Of course, you can stay in a hotel. We can’t host you for meals I’m afraid as we are rather disorganised with having to clear things for the decorators. There are lots of nice restaurants in Persford though.’

  ‘I’ll have to speak to Rex and get back to you.’

  ‘No problem, speak to you again, Mum.’

  Brett ended the call and punched the air. What a result. He simply couldn’t face the odious Rex and although it was true they were going to get the decorators to do some work it was going to be a while yet. If Annabelle admonished him he would say he couldn’t cope due to the stress of the last few days.

  **

  Maureen had virtually moved into Brensford Manor although she did still spend the odd night back at her own property. Their relationship was blossoming and they had started to talk about a date for their marriage which they wanted to be a quiet affair at the Register Office with just a few close friends and relatives, followed by a catered reception at Ron’s property. It would be a few months before probate on Hubert’s estate was granted and his assets formally transferred to Maureen’s name.

  ‘Ron, I’ve been thinking,’ said Maureen. ‘I know nothing about drugs or medicine, so I think you should have Hubert’s share in PersCure.’

  ‘No, I couldn’t, that’s yours,’ said Ron.

  ‘No, I insist. I told you, Francis says it’s more than he originally thought. Over a quarter of a million. It seems that when Hubert realised he was ill he wanted to invest in a worthy cause. That’s why he upped his stake.’

  ‘Well, I can see why he would want to do that,’ said Ron. ‘That was my motive for investment too, in memory of Natasha.’

  ‘So, that’s what I thought. You should have the stake. I’ll transfer it to you as soon as I can. It’s more appropriate this way. You deserve it.’

  ‘Maureen, you are such a generous person. I’m so lucky to have met you,’ said Ron, kissing her hand.

  ‘I’m the lucky one,’ said Maureen. ‘You spoil me. I’ve never been so happy.’

  ‘I’m the happy one,’ said Ron. ‘You have completely turned my life around. At times I felt like taking the same route as Hubert did and my late wife Shirley. I could just have given up.’

  ‘Don’t say that. You wouldn’t have. You’re a survivor, Ron. You’ll be the last man standing, I’m sure.’

  Ron remained silent. Maureen didn’t know how true those words were. He was a survivor. Nobody would get the better of him and especially not Maureen.

  Chapter 59

  Normality returned to Persford and the media moved on to other dreadful events. Work began again in the research laboratory and the regular issues of problems to solve and deadlines to meet helped everyone try to forget the tragic circumstances. No adverse effects were reported from the ongoing clinical trials of UP-627 so that gave everyone’s morale a boost.

  Adam had some counselling to help him get over his ordeal as he found his sleep was disturbed by flashbacks. He felt a sense of guilt at not having realised earlier that Joe had been radicalised. Although this was understandable under the circumstances, Joe had been careful and there would have been no reason to suspect him to be responsible for any racist acts. He had been clever enough to live a double life and stay under the radar. Many people were in worse situations than Joe but it did not make them resort to terrorism or to lay all their ills at the door of minority groups. They would never know what psychological issues had made him vulnerable. Adam had to realise that the blame lay with the extremists and not with him.

  Nick recovered from his nightmare in India better than he had expected probably because he was so focused on becoming a father. They were counting down the first twelve weeks hoping that all would be well so they could tell their wider circle of friends. Their respective parents were overjoyed but had been sworn to silence.

  Eddie in the storeroom had been appalled by recent events in the town he’d lived all his life. The fact that innocent people had died in Persford had brought home to him that his opinions had been stupid and misguided. He now saw the Britannia First ideology as being bigoted and extreme. People from all backgrounds could abuse the system not just those from cultures different from his own. When he thought back to some of the things he’d preached in the past he felt embarrassed. What must he have sounded like to his colleagues? Thus, his outspoken comments stopped and his colleagues noticed a real change in him. He also told his brother who was a painter and decorator he would have to buy his own acetone solvent in future rather than rely on a free supply courtesy of the storeroom. Eddie realised how close he had come to being suspected of providing materials for a terrorist network and it really shocked him.

  Jeffrey Pilkington, otherwise known as Orion carelessly left a flyer for Britannia First on the photocopier at the Council Offices. It was handed into one of the managers and all staff were called together for a meeting where it was emphasised that using copiers for personal use was a disciplinary offence and that anyone accessing extremist material at work or promoting it would have their contract of employment terminated. Jeffrey realised that hitherto he had been lucky but he shouldn’t push his luck. He managed to purchase a cheap printer in a sale and produced promotional material in the privacy of his own home.

  He had been shocked at Joe’s death but really it had been due to bad planning. Up until the last moment all had gone to plan. He hoped that his assistance in the manufacture of the chemical had been noticed and that his services would be called upon in the future. He also hoped Warrior would recognise his talents and promote him up the pecking order.

  Warrior, otherwise known as Liam Bolton had regretted not targetting the old MOD barracks in the first place. He had been blinkered and had gone for a high profile target when there was one much closer to home. Had they
planned properly for that end then Joe might still be alive and the mission might have been more successful. They had taken considerable risks to manufacture a viable device which could have caused a much higher death toll. As Liam mused over this in the pharmacy he realised that one of the victims could have been Mrs Kouri. Now it would be a matter of lying low until the dust had settled.

  At that point, he noticed Harjit leave the dispensary.

  ‘Mr Shipton, good to see you! What brings you here?’

  ‘Harjit, good morning. Just paying a visit to see how you are all doing.’ The words sounded friendly enough but his face was set in a stern grimace. He did not look happy at all.

  ‘Of course. If I can be of any help?’

  ‘I think perhaps we need to have a quiet chat. Let’s go through to the one of the rooms in the back,’ said Gerald.

  Liam looked over and felt his pulse beginning to race. This was not good news. He could count on the fingers of one hand the number of times Gerald had appeared in the shop over the last five years. Did it mean he suspected that some restricted drugs were being stolen? But he had been careful. Surely there wasn’t any evidence against him? Now he was seriously beginning to worry. He just hoped that his commitment to the cause hadn’t made him rash or blinkered to the fact that he was being monitored.

  Suddenly he saw Harjit come back into the dispensary. A horrible cold feeling washed over him.

  ‘Liam, have you got a minute. Mr Shipton and I would like a word with you.’

  Chapter 60

  Christian and Geraldine were enjoying family life. With the reduction in after-school clubs and activities, they had more time to spend together. Each evening they sat down to a family dinner where phones were banned at the table and they talked to each other about their respective days. After the shock of the terrorist attack, Geraldine appeared to have forgotten about Laura and had decided to take up an evening class in Spanish where she was hoping to make some new friends. Christian had deleted all traces of his chatrooms from his computer and phone and at weekends was trying to get back into jogging. That was when he wasn’t trying to keep on top of the garden which was still growing alarmingly. Frustrated by some of the shrubs and trees he had set about removing them and was researching some easier to maintain and slower growing varieties.