Sterling

by Robert Cameron

  ‘We have a terrorist operation under way now. As we speak, the intelligence service are watching a cell preparing a suicide attack. They were not expecting it to happen this soon. All intel leads towards the target being the city centre, and within the next couple of hours. So we have been caught off guard. We are moving out of here in ten minutes, so be ready. Snipers, I want you to gain access to the roofs of the centre.’ While talking he motioned over to his right, and the sniper team-leader acknowledged with a nod. ‘Surveillance, you have been practising for this. You know what you’re doing. And firearms, we are going to place you in strategic locations to cover most of the city. Mobile team, take up your position in a taxi rank.’

  Cam remembered the armed officers had a hollowed out taxi that could contain a full team. From that black cab they could quickly deploy a team on top of a target almost anywhere.

  ‘And our military counterparts from Charlie troop, you will be vectored in on the target from where you can neutralise the device once the suspect has been either restrained or eliminated.’

  Cam gazed over towards where the commissioner was looking to see a group of six guys sitting on some metal containers. ‘Shit!’ Cam exclaimed to himself. The guys listened to the rest of the briefing, but Cam’s mind had blocked out the speaker and he was fully focused on the team on the other side of the gym. ‘So, you’re my replacements,’ he thought. The brief had finished and the six-man team began preparing their equipment. Cam wanted to go over and speak to them, but he was under strict instructions not to make contact with anyone.

  He waited and watched as the new version of the troop prepped their radios and slung their day-sacks over their shoulders. This was a strange feeling as he knew exactly what was in those bags. The team talked amongst themselves for a few minutes then headed out of the gym.

  Cam walked over to the metal equipment boxes. The only gunmetal grey one interested him. As the rest were all painted green, this one stood out. It used to be his. He stood over the box and looked down at it. There was a stretch of green fabric tape about twenty inches long on the lid. The tape had the name of the owner on it. It was taped, layer over layer, of other name tags. Cam wondered how deep down his name was.

  The phone vibrating in his pocket broke him away from his daydream. Another email had arrived. ‘Hope it gives me the information I might have missed at the end of the briefing.’

  Target area is St James’ Shopping Centre. Make your way there and await further orders.

  * * * * * * *

  Before he knew it he was over halfway there – and so many old memories had taken over his mind. They seemed so far distant that he sometimes wondered if he had ever actually experienced them. He didn’t even remember leaving the briefing room.

  He had to focus, clear his mind and concentrate on the task in hand. It was his first job for Al and he needed to get it right. If anything, he simply wanted to keep hold of his new life.

  As he headed towards to shopping centre he prepared by gathering as much information about the area as possible. Using his phone he had found a handy PDF document; it mapped out the centre, showing entrances and exits and marking out all the individual shops. He had opened up Google Maps, showing the exterior roads that led to the centre and its car parks.

  The shopping centre was a medium-sized shopping mall situated at the western side of the main street. It was an older-style building, but relatively modern looking inside. Within the centre you could find most types of retail outlets – all the usual ones were all there.

  Cam hurriedly made his way south on Broughton Street and recklessly crossed the main road towards the mall. As he entered the mall the phone buzzed, indicating the arrival of another email.

  Target spotted at crossroad of Abercromby Place and Albany Street. Stand by. Snipers have eyes on. More to follow.

  Cam read the message and checked his mall map. He decided to move towards one of the centre’s northern entrances. Stand by! What the hell did they mean by that? Cam knew fine and well that the snipers would never be given permission to open fire. He realised that being inside the shopping centre would not be the best place to be.

  Target has turned right on to York Lane. More to follow.

  Cam stood at the entrance to the centre and looked out towards the direction from which the target was approaching. He looked up at the roofs of the multi-storey car park and the top of the centre, checking for the snipers – but he could see no trace of them. There were a number of black taxis in the vicinity but none of them were carrying passengers. Had they already been deployed into the centre?

  The phone vibrated again. Cam was expecting another email but as he raised the phone he surprised to see it was a call. The screen read, ‘unknown number’.

  ‘Hello.’

  ‘We see you have moved outside. Is there a problem?’

  ‘No I’m trying to locate the target on approach. Is this Al?’

  ‘Yes it’s me. Move back inside. We will keep you updated on his location.’

  ‘Look Al, what am I expected to do here? I know COBRA will let it happen; I’ve been in this situation before, so I’m not to keen on going back in there.’

  ‘Cam you are there because we know the probable outcome of this. You are there to stop it happening, to prevent us losing the police and military that are on this operation, also to protect the civilians in the centre.’

  ‘Can I use lethal force?’

  ‘Yes. Now listen, the target has turned right on to York Place. Get back inside and wait in the King’s Mall.’

  ‘Moving now,’ he said as he ended the call.

  As Cam re-entered the mall he took one last look at the people outside the shopping area. One of them is the target. He turned and went inside.

  After a minute or so, he was at the centre of the shopping mall and desperate for more information. He dialled the only number on the phone.

  ‘Hello,’ said the voice on the other end of the phone.

  ‘I need to speak to Al.’ Cam heard a muffled click.

  ‘This is Al.’

  ‘I need info on the target. I need to make a positive ID.’

  ‘We don’t have that information yet.’

  ‘What he is wearing, how tall? Anything.’

  ‘We don’t have that information yet. Stand by.’

  Cam still had the phone to his ear, even though Al had stopped speaking. He had not hung up, merely waiting for more intel to come in from the covert operators. He looked around at the people, happily going about their business. They had no idea what was going on. Cam searched for undercover police, firearms or the troop – but to no avail. They were too good to be spotted.

  He frantically looked all around the centre of the mall. It dawned on him that so much time had passed that the target must be inside now. He was running out of time.

  * * * * * * *

  The phone was still pressed against his ear – pressed so hard that it was moist with contact sweat. The adrenaline was well and truly flowing. Any second now he was expecting more info – any info.

  ‘He’s entered the mall,’ came the voice from the silence. ‘Where are you? We can’t track your exact position inside the centre.’

  ‘I’m by Costa Coffee in the centre of the mall.’

  ‘Good. Stand by.’

  This was it – this could be the end. He didn’t have enough information. He felt useless. All he could do was look around and check for the usual signs. It was summer and hard to conceal an explosive vest under a t-shirt, so someone in big baggy clothing could be the target.

  He looked over at Next, near where he was standing. Nothing unusual there – just single guys leaning by the windows waiting for their partners. And down towards Subway – but that was the wrong direction, unless the target had gone round to the south side before enteri
ng. There had been enough time. A couple of men from an ethnic minority approached him from that direction.

  ‘Al, I need to know if the target definitely entered the mall from the north.’

  ‘Yes, from the north.’ That cleared the men on the south side. He looked towards Optical Express – the direction of the threat. It was clear, as far as he could see. Busy, but clear.

  ‘Come on, come on, Al. I need something.’

  ‘It’s coming in now; he’s nearly on top of you. Surveillance has ID’d the suspect. I’m hanging up now, emailing you the photo.’ Cam held the phone in front of him and waited. He wiped the sweat that had collected on the screen of the phone and continued to wait. Only a few seconds had passed but it felt like an eternity.

  ‘Jesus Christ, come on!’ He looked up and down between the phone and the mall extending towards the optician’s. Still nothing suspicious. It was then it dawned on him – the signal was weak inside the mall. Panic gripped him as he started moving side to side round the coffee shop in the hope to find a pocket of reception.

  Still the phone was blank. He gave up and pocketed the phone in his top. There was nothing more to do but head into the danger area. He moved forward, looking at everyone – each individual face. He looked for signs of anxiety, beads of sweat or general nervousness – but with no success. He fished out the phone.

  ‘Shit!’ He had not felt the phone vibrate in the loose pocket of his hooded top. The email opened and he read the single line of text.

  Take suspect alive!

  ‘What?’ The photo was taking its time to download. It appeared, but was pixelated, slowly coming into focus.

  ‘Come on! Come on!’ Then it was there. He stopped and stared at it in disbelief.

  The face that looked back from the screen could have been anyone in the mall. It was a white guy – a westerner – even similar-looking to Cam. He looked up from the photo and saw him straight away. Walking towards him, Cam was right – he was wearing a fleece that could easily hide a device… only Cam would never have suspected this man.

  Following behind by about fifteen metres were two men carrying familiar bags. It was two guys from the troop. Cam knew he was covered. One would be the operator who could disarm the device and the other would be carrying counter-measure equipment so it could not be set off remotely. ‘All I have to do is take him down.’

  The man had his hands in his pockets. That could be where the initiator switches are and his fingers are on the trigger. Cam turned to look in the window of John Lewis and let the man walk past. The suspect wasn’t looking round – he was too focused on what he was about to do. And that was to kill himself and as many innocent civilians as possible and to cause as much fear as he could.

  Once the man was directly behind him, he turned and bent down. Cam had never moved faster. He grabbed the man’s ankles and pulled them from underneath him. The suspect jerked forward and pulled his hands from his pocket to stop his fall. It was a natural human instinct, and it happened automatically, taking his fingers away from the buttons in his pockets.

  The man slammed to the floor and Cam was on top, pressing his face into the ground and breaking his nose. He straddled the man high up on his back and sat on his shoulder blades. He forced his knees under the man’s armpits, rendering his arms useless.

  The crowded mall watched on in shock and horror as Cam assaulted this man, apparently completely unprovoked. Cam knew it wouldn’t be long before some have-a-go hero would be dragging him off the suspect. Thankfully the two guys from the troop were there within seconds. The suspect was zip-tied, feet and ankles, and the operator was straight in there with his tuff-cuts cutting off the fleece. His main focus was to make the device safe.

  ‘Police! Don’t move!’ The warning rang out across the mall. ‘Get back! Get back!’ It was time for Cam to go. In moments he was off the man and into the crowd which was being herded back away from the scene. He didn’t know if the police were aware of his presence or were too hyped up to notice, but he was able to blend into the multitude of people.

  He pushed his way towards the exit, only to hear, ‘You. you!’

  Cam stopped and turned expecting to see an eagle-eyed police officer. What he saw was a man with a digital camera, snapping away. The spark of the flash was eclipsed among the others – only this one was pointing at him. Cam stepped in towards the photographer and snatched it out of the man’s hands.

  ‘Hey! What the fu—?’

  ‘Shut up and back off!’ Cam said before the man could finish.

  Once he made it outside he smashed the camera to the floor, splintering it into pieces. He sifted through the wreckage and picked out the memory card. Once out of sight of the mall he ducked into an alley. He leant his back against the alley wall and caught his breath. He couldn’t believe he had got out of there. Then the phone buzzed once again.

  Task complete. Stand down.

  He looked at the memory card in his hand and after fiddling it around his fingers he slipped it into his pocket. Might be a nice souvenir.

  Chapter 21

  It took a long time to get back to the flat – the city was locked down. It seemed every agency in the country was in Edinburgh. When he finally made it back he went straight to his television and turned it on.

  The story was breaking all over Sky News and the presenters were doing their best to piece together what was actually going on in Scotland’s capital city. ‘WE HAVE REPORTS OF A MASSIVE TERRORIST PLOT IN EDINBURGH CITY CENTRE, DETAILS ARE SKETCHY. HOWEVER, THE INFORMATION COMING INTO THE STUDIO NOW SUGGESTS THE POLICE HAVE AVERTED THE PLOT AND HAVE A SUSPECT IN CUSTODY.’

  Cam stood in the living room, close to the flat screen on the wall and watched as the scene changed to aerial views of the streets surrounding St James’s Centre. Police officers directed the public away from the shopping centre as they cordoned off the entire city centre. The yellow news bar at the bottom of the screen showed the same breaking news over and over again. ‘TERRORIST PLOT THWARTED BY POLICE. EDINBURGH UNDER ATTACK and POSSIBLE SUICIDE BOMBER IN POLICE CUSTODY.’

  As he watched he could scarcely believe that he was involved in all this. Less than an hour ago he was right there, and now he was safely back home. He realised that he had just been involved in most probably the biggest threat to national security in recent history. ‘I think I deserve a drink.’

  He poured himself a generous double whisky and sat back on the sofa to watch the story unfold. He wondered if the whole story would come out – or would the government keep some things back, as they normally did?

  Just when he thought the day’s events were over, the phone rang. He answered it, thinking that maybe his part in all this was not yet over.

  ‘Hello.’

  ‘Hello Cam, how does it feel to be a hero?’

  ‘Absolutely terrifying. I was sure I wasn’t going to get out of that one. What the hell happened Al? Why were you so slow with the updates? A second later and that would have been it.’

  ‘I know. It got a little intense didn’t it? But I promise you that you got it as we got it. You know how it is when different agencies try to communicate with each other. Especially when one of them doesn’t officially exist.’

  Cam didn’t need to ask any more. He had plenty of experience with that sort of thing. Everybody wanted to be the one who saved the day, and sometimes they didn’t disclose everything to the other departments – usually to the detriment of the operation.

  ‘What’s actually happening now? Is that it for me?’

  ‘On this one yes, but sit tight. We are analysing the situation. This is a new one for us, we have been caught off guard and we need to figure out what to do next.’

  ‘How do you mean a new one?’

  ‘Well, it was a shock when his ID came through. We were just going to let you take him out, but when we real
ised he was a westerner we needed him alive.’

  ‘What did he have on him?’ asked Cam.

  ‘I think it’s best that you know only what you know already – or what you need to know. I’ll give you all the information you need to complete your task, but that’s it. OK?’

  ‘Yeah, sure. I suppose.’

  ‘Good. Now sit tight and I’ll get back to you if we need you.’

  ‘Alright – but Al, I was photographed by a passer-by while I was leaving the scene, but I got the camera off him. I’m not sure if anyone else noticed me. Am I going to be safe after this?’

  ‘Don’t worry about a thing; we will take care of all that from here. We have ways of making things disappear and you will remain anonymous. We will get you in and out and then cover your tracks afterwards, understand?’

  ‘OK. Did you guys get me into the hub? I can’t work out why the police officer just let me in.’

  ‘Yes that was us; do as we say and it will all be sorted for you. Now are you happy with how it all went? Anything for me at this point?’

  ‘Not off the top of my head – but perhaps some sort of Bluetooth device so I can talk to you without having to hold the phone up to my ear.’

  ‘Good idea. I’ll sort something out. Check your drop-location tomorrow. And if you think of anything else let me know.’

  ‘OK, I will.’

  ‘Good lad. For now, you are stood down. Well done for today. I’ll be in touch.’

  Cam put the phone down and sipped his whisky. Relaxing into his chair he turned his attention back to the screen. It was going to be interesting to watch from here, all the time knowing what had really gone on in St James’ shopping centre.

  * * * * * * *

  As the days passed by, the hype began to die down; it was almost as if nothing had happened. For two days the public had been scared even to walk down the main street, terrified that the terrorists would strike again. But now, four days on and they had already forgotten. Things were nearly back to normal, only some small follow-up stories on the news. Cam was surprised that they had reported accurately with only a few things left out, such as his own involvement in the operation.