The interviewer turned to the second politician. ‘It’s going to be very difficult for the PM and his Chancellor to put a lid on the financial fallout from Stratford, isn’t it?’
‘Undoubtedly. It’s going to cost the country tens if not hundreds of billions of pounds. This could sink our economy, our currency and scare the living daylights out of the markets. The last thing that we need is political uncertainty. I hope that the PM will find a way of getting the opposition parties involved with the process of getting the country out of this mess.’
The interviewer looked at the first MP. ‘If there’s a call for a vote of no confidence, what will the implications be?’
‘The Government has a tiny majority and will seek to tough things out. It’s more likely that pigs will fly, than for a recently elected Government to give up its reins on power.’
‘Thank you, gentlemen, and with that we return to the studio,’ concluded the political correspondent.
The special forces command centre and the Air Chief Marshal were in discussion with Clive and Jim. As things currently stood, the helicopter would land in Safi only minutes after Golden Sundancer berthed. Jim asked whether it might to possible to get them more time to overpower those on board before the helicopter arrived.
Accordingly, at Marrakech airport, a quick-thinking and inventive SAS operative borrowed the jacket of an airport worker and walked up to the helicopter. He had a water bottle filled with oil hidden in his pocket. The bottle had a tube – commandeered from a drinks machine – tightly inserted into its top which went down his trouser leg.
The disguised SAS man sauntered over to the pilot to enquire whether the helicopter would be requiring the help of a baggage handler. He was summarily sent away. As he left, he walked towards the back of the aircraft and stopped to tie his shoelace under the tail’s rotary engine. Job done. He got up and walked off. On the concrete apron behind him was a fresh puddle of oil.
The SAS man walked back to the airport buildings and found an airport security official. He explained that the helicopter he’d visited seemed to be leaking hydraulic fluid from its engine.
‘It’s probably nothing, but should someone look at it? We don’t want it to fall out of the sky.’
The security man had shrugged his shoulders and begrudgingly gone off to tell his boss. Nothing happened for some while. It seemed that the message hadn’t got through.
However, some minutes later, a relieved SAS man reported that a man dressed in overalls was on his way towards the helicopter. The conversation between the man and the helicopter pilot looked animated. The pilot eventually got out, looked at the fluid on the concrete and with a shrug of his shoulders agreed to let the man look at the engine. This entailed the engineer walking back to collect his tools and a stepladder.
There was a noticeable smile on the face of the officer in the special services command centre; the engineer was in no hurry and was slowing things up, just as required.
The sheikh’s plane landed at Marrakech Airport on time. It parked away from the passenger planes, next to a group of small private aircraft not far from the helicopter. Those on board were quickly cleared through customs and immigration. The sheikh met Jameel on the tarmac and they were seen smiling in the bright sunshine, next to their two heavily built security guards. However, on hearing the news of the delay, the sheikh hunched his shoulders and scowled.
At Safi, Golden Sundancer had turned on to the final approach to the harbour. As things stood, she would now arrive comfortably ahead of the helicopter.
Jim and Clive, with assistance from Mark and Colin, their SAS back-up, had three groups of people to take care of: six on board Golden Sundancer, the four heavies on the harbour side and the five people on the helicopter – fifteen hostile people. It was the two Chechen mercenaries on board Golden Sundancer and the two bodyguards with the sheikh to whom they would have to pay special attention.
The command centre made it clear that the mission was to capture all the terrorists alive. Casualties, if at all possible, should be avoided, but in the last resort be limited to the bodyguards and the heavies on the dockside. The politicians wanted the terrorists unharmed.
The Prime Minister was due to stand up in the Commons in less than fifteen minutes. Tension was rising in the packed chamber.
Back at Safi, preparations were complete. The plan was straightforward. When Golden Sundancer arrived, the two female naval officers would act as attractive distractions; meanwhile, Jim and Clive, the two SBS officers would slip on board via the swimming platform at the stern, neutralise those on board, then wait for the sheikh and his entourage to board the vessel and overpower them too. Mark and Colin would take care of the four heavies on the dockside.
The commander was standing next to the radar screen on Puddle Jumper. ‘I can see them on our radar; they’re approaching the outer harbour. ETA: four minutes,’ he said into his radio.
Colin confirmed that he had got Golden Sundancer in his binoculars. ‘The captain plus one are on the flybridge and two people are sitting on the foredeck, leaving two people below deck.’
Big Ben struck twice. Rafi, who had been following events in Safi on the screens, switched his attention across to the TV.
The Speaker of the House called: ‘Order, Order! Pray silence for the Prime Minister.’
The Prime Minister rose and moved to the dispatch box in front of him. He waited a few seconds. A hush fell over the packed House of Commons. Uncharacteristically, the PM took off his wristwatch and placed it face up on the dispatch box. The estimate he had been given was for the submarine to pick up of the captured terrorists at around 3.30 p.m. Maryam, meanwhile, would be smuggled out of Luxembourg. Only then could he reveal what had been going on. So much could go wrong. There were bound to be delays. It would therefore be something like two hours before he and his Chancellor could announce the full story.
There was a sense of anticipation in the air. The future of the Government lay in his hands. The next couple of hours would be crucial.
‘I come before the House with a heavy heart. The Stratford disaster will haunt us for years to come.’ The PM’s demeanour mirrored his words.
‘My Government and I wish to pay our humble respects to all those who have suffered from this disaster and to all those who will suffer from radiation poisoning in the future. I am mindful of all those who have lost everything. The efforts of the police, the armed services, doctors, nurses and emergency services deserve our thanks and praise. I pay tribute to all those who have played a role in the rehousing of those who lost their homes. In recognition of the deeds and acts of friendship, in future, the second Monday in February will be a public holiday. It will be a day to remember all those who suffered and a day to reflect. I hope that Stratford Day will become a day of good deeds and community works.’
One could have heard a pin drop.
‘The financial implications of the disaster will be explained by the Chancellor of the Exchequer shortly. He will set out what the Government will be doing to help those who have been caught up in this heinous and barbaric attack.’
The PM paused. ‘The trials and tribulations that now face our country are greater than at any time since the end of the last World War. It is imperative that unity and common purpose prevail.’
Rafi listened to the PM give an update on the tragedy, which included details on the dead, the dying, the dispossessed, the army’s progress in guarding and clearing the exclusion zone, its size and the problems they had overcome to stop radioactive materials polluting the water table and travelling down the River Lea.
The PM moved on to his policy initiatives. ‘The General Election, which was held less than a year ago, produced a finely balanced result. The number of votes cast for the two main parties was almost identical and the vote for the Liberal Democrats gave them a creditable third place. Ninety five per cent of the votes cast at the election were for the three main parties. The manifestos on which the election was fought were
as similar as the political pundits could remember; indeed some called for a hung Parliament to bring in the dynamism and skills of the opposition parties.’
He paused. ‘The recent exploits of a few of my former ministers have highlighted the misguided and muddled thought processes of political apparatchiks. Their goal was to ingratiate themselves with the news gatherers and the media rather than to focus on doing their jobs well. For this I am deeply sorry. We were elected to run the country on behalf of the people and not to look good and score points as if we were on a TV game show. Last week, presidential style, single-party politics was the order of the day. As of Friday morning this all changed. It is our duty to pull together, work in harmony and deal with the aftermath of this tragedy. Therefore, this afternoon, my Chancellor and I shall be setting out my Government’s proposals which are designed to take us forward, with one voice.’
The PM glanced across at the opposition benches as he spoke. ‘Until such time as the country has recovered and its economy is prosperous again, I will be forming a Coalition Government and a new collective Cabinet drawn from across the political spectrum of this House. The Cabinet’s composition will be along the lines of Parliamentary committees. This morning I had an audience with the Queen and I also met with the leaders of Her Majesty’s two main opposition parties. We have agreed to identify a range of topics which will henceforth be outside the Punch and Judy nature of politics and will become a matter for consensus between the leading political parties. This will enable the Government to deliver long-term strategies and not quick fixes. The country will require this if it is to fully recover its dynamism.’
The PM had the complete attention of those listening to him.
‘A State of Emergency will continue until such time as the after-effects of Stratford have diminished. Lest those of you sitting on the back benches or in the Upper Chamber feel left out, Parliament will have a major role to play in scrutinising the legislation that will be put forward by the Coalition Government – a National Government. Transparency and genuine debate will be key elements of this process.’
The PM hesitated and looked across to the Speaker of the House. ‘This Government recognises that responsibility has to be taken for the disaster. The air has to be cleared to forestall any accusations that there might be in this House. I have accepted the resignations of the Home Secretary, a minister and two junior ministers in the Home Office. I will talk about their replacements shortly.’
This statement was met by gasps.
The PM continued resolutely. ‘I have also accepted resignations from all those public servants in charge of nuclear safety matters and the board members of the company responsible for running nuclear freight trains. My Cabinet has arranged for a number of senior executives from leading energy and industrial companies to be seconded to take their places in the short to medium term. I am pleased to report to the House that a distinguished former leader of an opposition party has agreed to work with the new Home Secretary, as the Home Office minister with responsibility for Homeland Security. He has put on hold all his private business activities and speaking engagements. Some might say that the Home Office is a poisoned chalice; others might view it as an opportunity. I am pleased that the former party leader takes the latter view.’
The PM paused and took a sip of water, looked at his watch, and continued. ‘I shall be announcing the details of my Cabinet reshuffle over the next twenty-four hours; this will include the name of the new Home Secretary and the other key ministers of State. I have not asked them yet, as many of them sit on the benches opposite me and today their role is to hold this Government to account. In picking the new members of the Cabinet, I have borne in mind that there is no substitute for real world experience. The pendulum has swung too far. Too many members of the Government have little or no experience outside the political arena. This is unhealthy and undesirable.’
The camera swung around the House. The brooding menace which had been in the air over the opposition benches had lessened. The inclusive proposals had taken those in the Chamber by surprise – so far so good.
Golden Sundancer had her fenders out on her port side. With a delicate touch, she was brought alongside the harbour wall about eighty metres across from Puddle Jumper. The captain and Basel were on the flybridge. The muscular frame of Dakka Dudayev, the Stratford terrorist, could be seen standing at the stern. The slight figure of Kim Chindriani, one of the recruiters of the bombers, was at the bow. They threw lines to the two heavies waiting at the edge of the harbour wall. The ropes were passed round heavy metal bollards and back on board. Bow and stern springs were attached and a gangway was put in place.
‘That leaves Sergy Kowshaya, the Chechen terrorist, and Alistair Hartnell, Basel’s number two, below deck,’ said Mark over the radio from the shadows of the harbour side. ‘What are the odds that they are suffering from seasickness?’
As if on cue, two very dishevelled and ashen-looking men stumbled on deck and walked shakily down the gangway to dry land, both dropping to their knees and kissing the ground.
‘Excellent, excellent,’ said a voice from the command centre. ‘Kowshaya definitely looks below par.’
Meanwhile, the retired commander, his wife and two daughters had come out onto the foredeck of Puddle Jumper to watch the arrival of their neighbour. Janet waved to the man standing on the harbour side by the bow of Golden Sundancer. Unnoticed, Clive and Jim slipped over the stern in their grey, lightweight wetsuits, and sleek air tanks strapped to their backs.
The command centre had briefed the two SBS men. ‘We’ve identified a blind spot, three to four metres from the stern of Golden Sundancer at her waterline, on her starboard side. Suggest you wait there.’
They slid out of sight below the water, hugged the harbour wall and quietly surfaced at the specified blind spot. They shed their air tanks and flippers, and waited for the signal that the coast was clear and it was safe to climb on board via the swimming platform. Sergy Kowshaya and Alistair Hartnell meanwhile had returned below deck.
The Prime Minister was now thirty minutes into his speech. He was talking about nuclear power and the importance of the UK being self-sufficient in energy terms. ‘The security of our energy supplies is crucial. In a modern society, energy is a cornerstone on which the foundations of a civilised way of life are built. We have suffered the devastating impact of a nuclear disaster. Maintaining the status quo is no longer an option. In the last Parliament a decision was taken which seemed to be the simplest and most convenient zero carbon option.’ He paused and looked around the House. ‘The go-ahead was given for?50 billion to be spent on a new generation of nuclear power stations for the 2020s. This, in hindsight, was rushed and did not address the scale of the risks involved… With nuclear power there is an infinitesimal probability of things going wrong, but when they do, the hazards are so extreme that they dwarf the benefits. The debate should have focused on how self-sufficiency could have been achieved without nuclear power… As things currently stand, in these times of terrorist threats, nuclear power has become too vulnerable, and too risky. However, it may still have a role to play, but only when the transportation, storage and security risks have been addressed, in a thoroughly uncompromising manner. Then and only then can it be brought back onto the agenda.’
The PM looked up at the camera. ‘With this in mind, a Ministry for Energy and Scarce Resources will be created. It will be tasked with moving forward energy savings, the development of sustainable and efficient renewable energy technology and the efficient use of this country’s energy resources. It will work with the Treasury and provide the stimuli required to make us use our existing natural resources wisely. The Treasury’s role will be central to our move to energy self-sufficiency and nuclear-free electricity generation. Accordingly, I have commissioned a report from a panel of experts on how Britain can deal with the impending fifty percent energy shortfall. Their detailed findings will be discussed by my new Cabinet, and we shall place our propos
als before Parliament at the earliest opportunity.’
The PM paused, looked down at his watch and continued. ‘In particular, this panel is considering clean coal technology, carbon capture and sequestration techniques. The Victorians recognised the importance of sanitation and built a network of sewers to counter the threats of disease. We now recognise the threat of climate change. With this in mind, the panel is looking at the benefits of building a network of pipelines to collect carbon dioxide from the largest carbon polluters so that it can be stored cost-effectively underground.’ He rearranged his papers, looked at his watch again and continued. ‘British coal is an energy source steeped in political emotions. It transformed our country’s economy during the Industrial Revolution. It is a valuable resource which we have prematurely discarded. The country has a couple of hundred years of retrievable reserves and, unlike oil and gas where exporters act like a cartel, with coal there is a free market with over 100 countries exporting it. Clean coal will play an integral part in our future and our ability to become energy self-sufficient and environmentally responsible…’
A movement on the main screen caught Rafi’s eye and his attention shifted. The Air Chief Marshal was speaking to the SBS command centre.
News had just come in from the six SAS soldiers travelling to Safi. Two trucks had collided on the bridge at Azemmour, blocking the road to all traffic. Unexpectedly they were facing a slow 45 km detour via the next bridge upriver at Maachou and were likely to miss the party. Colonel Gray was not pleased.
The PM had moved on to a new topic. ‘On the Homeland Security front, we must of course ensure that coordinated attacks, as suffered on Friday, never happen again. Over the past few years the security associated with airport travel has been tightened up. However, the security associated with our land borders has been shown to be unfit for purpose. Our immigration rules and methods of identifying who is legitimately in this country and who is here illegally are too lax and seriously wanting. I am not a believer in identity cards nor in Orwellian Big Brotherstyle interference in people’s lives, however, the system must be improved.’
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