Red Notice

by Andy McNab

  His instructions were clearly audible in the tunnel. ‘Give the hostages something to eat and drink from the buffet car. But make it water and sandwiches only, no hot food and no alcohol.’ He turned towards the hostages. ‘If you co-operate with us, you will be treated with respect and you will survive. If you resist, you will be shot and tossed from the train like that pathetic old man. Bon appétit.’

  As Laszlo propelled the head steward towards the buffet car, Tom followed once more. And once more he checked each window for a sign of Delphine, desperate to know that she had survived the fuck-up with the kids.

  77

  SHIVERING WITH DELAYED shock, Delphine still crouched on the floor, next to the spot where the old man had been murdered. He’d begun his journey with such joy and anticipation in his heart, but had now been tossed aside like so much rubbish. Delphine told herself to stay strong. The old man’s optimism counted for nothing now, but that didn’t mean she should lose hers. Tom had said he would come back for her, and this time she believed him.

  Sambor stood guard over her. Laszlo joined him to debrief the two gunmen who had pursued Tom and the children. Although she couldn’t understand a word they were saying, she was in no doubt that this performance was at least partly for her benefit. The men now encircled her. A pair of blood-stained boots was planted a few inches from her face.

  There was a tremor of fear in the older insurgent’s voice as he made his report. ‘We think he’s dead.’

  ‘You think?’ Laszlo’s voice was low, but dripping with menace. ‘Where are the bodies?’

  ‘We couldn’t find them. We couldn’t go so far towards England . . .’

  It wasn’t what Laszlo wanted to hear. ‘So you do not have bodies?’

  ‘No.’

  Laszlo went silent again, still waiting for the answer he wanted. The gunman, even more nervous now, felt he had to fill the gap. ‘But the amount of fire we put down, no one would have survived. No one.’

  There was another long silence as the fighter waited for Laszlo to reply.

  ‘I would say, almost certainly, that they are not dead.’

  The unfortunate individuals accepted their error, heads lowered. Neither answered back in their defence as Laszlo continued: ‘So, one man and two children are too much for my heroic fighters, and a 7.62mm gun team? Have you forgotten everything the SAS taught you? I suppose I should be grateful that the children weren’t armed, or you might all have been killed. You are getting slow and lazy. It’s time to step up. We have our unit. We have our history. And, most importantly, we have our pride.’ His expression darkened still further. ‘We must maintain them at all times.’

  ‘Yes, Laszlo, we must step up. We’re sorry.’

  Laszlo hugged both men. ‘OK. Now go and do your duty.’

  Delphine had scarcely been able to breathe during the exchange, but now she released a long, shuddering gasp. She had caught the mention of ‘SAS’. Laszlo’s tone of disappointment, along with the nervousness of his subordinates, planted a small seed of hope in her heart.

  When the two brothers were alone once more, Sambor spoke: ‘The pipeline? That is still safe? Escalles?’

  Escalles . . . Another word that Delphine understood. She saw Laszlo look down. She instantly dropped her gaze, but could feel his eyes drilling into her.

  Sambor stepped away from the girl, and motioned to his brother to follow. ‘Whoever this man is, he’s no ordinary passenger. He’s been very well trained.’

  ‘Perhaps so,’ Laszlo said thoughtfully, looking out into the darkness. ‘But training is only part of it.’ He remained facing the window. ‘Brother, do you know the three questions to ask if you want to find a good general?’ Laszlo raised an index finger above his shoulder. ‘Is he intelligent?’ He brandished his middle finger as well. ‘Is he ruthless?’ And finally his ring finger. ‘And is he lucky?’

  Laszlo turned back to face his brother, and gave the merest tilt of his head towards Delphine’s still prone body. ‘This Good Samaritan of theirs seems to be ruthless. And he’s certainly been lucky – so far, at least. Let’s see if he’s intelligent as well, shall we?’

  78

  THE BLUE TEAM call-signs were all marked up on the boards. Every operative knew where he had to be and what kit he needed. Not that there was much. Short ladders were the only item on the list.

  The snipers had additional instructions. They had to wear party gear. So now they knew they were also going to be used as assaulters today.

  Wires, radios and phones were being tested as the signallers got to grips with the comms. The Slime carefully unpacked their geeky stuff from its protective aluminium boxes.

  The team stood around Gavin in their black kit, paper cups steaming, Mars Bars in mid-munch. There wasn’t a notebook in sight. Anyone who couldn’t remember what he had to do and when he had to do it after all these years of training and ops shouldn’t be standing where he was now.

  Gavin’s set of orders confirmed all the details and cleared the legal procedures so that every soldier knew his responsibilities and LOE (limits of exploitation). The elected civil power might have handed control to the unelected military power, but the military was given only enough leeway to do the job required. The baton would then be snatched back at the first available opportunity, and the Men in Black sent home with a pat on the head – until the next time.

  Gavin did a quick head count to make sure all forty-two members of the team and their support were present. ‘OK, Blue team, listen in!’

  At all other times, everyone in the Regiment was encouraged to have a voice. That was how problems were overcome and new ideas created and developed. But when it came to a set of orders for an operation, there was no room for opinions. There would be no Chinese parliament. That time had gone. What the commander said you were going to do, and how you were going to do it, was what was going to happen. Successful operations depended on everyone doing exactly what was required of them, and at the right time. If you disagreed with the plan – tough shit. Trains left Hereford station every few minutes.

  Gavin didn’t have to wait for the chat to die down. There was instant silence.

  ‘These are the orders for the ER.’ He delivered them in an unhurried monotone. Displaying no emotion, fear or excitement was what it was all about. ‘The option will go in immediately after these orders.’

  A murmur spread around the group. Gavin gave them a couple of seconds. This was the first time for them, and maybe in history, that an ER had gone in so fast and with so little information. The team had already worked out the possible Yankees casualty rate.

  ‘OK, ground. We have three tunnels, two trains and a lot of distance between them and us. The target is the passenger train. The power is cut. It’s using its emergency reserve. That means it’s immobilized and light is limited.

  ‘Situation.’ Gavin checked his Omega. ‘Laszlo Antonov, X-ray One, was attempting to escape from the UK via the eight twenty-six Eurostar to Paris. However, Tom pinged him on the train and informed us, and now the whole roadshow is here.

  ‘Antonov’s brother Sambor, X-ray Two – check the picture Tom sent us on the kid’s iPod – and approximately forty South Ossetian insurgents took control of the HGV Shuttle heading to the UK. They met the Paris-bound Eurostar in the tunnel, fifteen K in from France. That’s where the sprinklers went off, and where the French fire-crews were dispatched to. As of now, those crews still haven’t reported back.

  ‘They now control the passenger train, with about four hundred Yankees on board – including Tom’s girlfriend, Delphine. She was leaving Tom. He tried to get her back. That’s why he was a passenger.’

  One of the whiteboards behind him had been decorated with a series of crude rectangles, each representing a carriage and identifying the call-sign responsible for hitting it. Gavin pointed with his felt tip. ‘The Yankees have been corralled in the first three carriages behind the engine and lined up against the windows, face out.’

  He tappe
d the front rectangle and then the two behind. ‘X-ray One has been seen negotiating in the driver’s cab, and moving about in those first three carriages.

  ‘The X-rays have suppressed 9mm sub-machine-guns, and two PKMs mounted front and rear of the target train. They also have NVGs and Tom has seen oxygen sets. We will not be using gas, but they might be.’

  There was another brief murmur in the crowd. Gas was a good compliance weapon, but in a confined environment, such as the tunnel, quite a few Yankees might comply too vigorously. The oldest among them would simply fall down and die.

  ‘So far, there has been machine-gun fire and explosive entry. They have come prepared – for what, we don’t yet know. This situation hasn’t come about because X-ray One was pinged by Tom as he tried to escape. This situation was pre-planned. It would have been executed even if Tom hadn’t called it in. He is just the source of the int and is still on the ground. On the casualty front, he’s also doing his best to even the score.’

  Gavin paused. Now was the time to move away from his orders and let them know what he needed to happen once the teams were on the ground.

  ‘You know X-ray One. You know the history of his brother and their fellow X-rays. Be aware. Be careful. Take no chances with any of them. But especially not X-ray One.’

  Gavin deliberately didn’t pause for effect. He wanted the last statement simply to be part of the monotone flow. The team didn’t need it spelled out. They understood exactly what was implied. This wasn’t the first time there had been a ‘supplementary’ to a set of orders.

  ‘Deadlines. Negotiations – limited negotiations – have been taking place. The first deadline was met, and resulted in the death of a Yankee. So far we have one further possible, and an unknown number who may have died during the explosive entries – plus the French fire response team. X-ray One’s demands are for gold and an exit via helicopter.’

  Eyebrows were raised in unison.

  Gavin couldn’t agree more. ‘I know, I don’t trust it.’ He took a breath before moving on to the legals. ‘Mission. In two parts. To rescue the hostages and arrest X-ray One. Mission. In two parts. To rescue the hostages and arrest X-ray One.’

  The mission statement was always given twice so there was no room for doubt. It was the most important part of the orders set: it was why the operation had to happen. In this particular case, now that the South Ossetian had control of real people, the task was no longer a clear non-lethal arrest.

  The main objective was saving innocent people, which meant that Laszlo’s killing would be justified and legal – as long as whoever pulled the trigger maintained that, as far as he was concerned, his life, or the lives of others, was immediately endangered by X-ray One’s actions. No one else could make that judgement, or decree whether it was justified or not, because no one else could see what he saw or hear what he heard.

  Gavin now came to the business end of the orders.

  ‘Execution. Sierra One will take his team forward and get as close as possible to the train, making sure you have a good sight picture on the gun position. Your task is to clear the route-to-target in the service tunnel and train tunnel, and secure your firing point; that will be the team’s start-line. You will take out the gun team and any X-rays that could stop the assault group getting on target.

  ‘Assault group . . .’ The marker tapped the board again. ‘As soon as the Red team rock up, I’ll brief them. What you should know is, Red One and Two: window entry on Coach One. All entries will be axes only – no explosives. Red One and Two: their LOE is the cab and their link man with Coach Two. I also want Sierra One to move forward with Red One and Two and take out the forward gun team. Don’t wait for the “Go”. As soon as you get a sight picture, take the shots.’

  Gavin assigned one coach per two assault teams. The idea was to swamp the area with assaulters, to lessen the risk of the X-rays having time to react and start killing the Yankees. A firefight would produce even more casualties. This option needed speed, aggression and surprise, if it was to have any level of success.

  Gavin turned his attention to the third coach. ‘Blue Five and Six, entry on Coach Three. Your LOE is your link man to Coaches Two and Four, which is the buffet car.

  ‘Red Seven, and the remainder of the sniper group, will make entry at the UK end of the train and clear all the way up to Coach Four, the buffet car, and the link man on Coach Three.

  ‘Hostage reception. The reception area will be at the rear of the train. The Yankee handover to police will take place in the tunnel, out of sight and co-ordinated by the Red team.

  ‘ATO [ammunition technical officer] and trauma team. You will move forward with the assault group and be called forward on request from the start-line.

  ‘Signals. They will move with the sniper group and set up the re-broadcasters as you move forward.

  ‘Timings. After these orders I want everyone loaded into the Transits in ten – doors closed, out of sight. The team will move into the service tunnel and debus. The sniper group and re-broadcasters will then use the tunnel transport standing by to get to security gate D11-231. Look at the boards for pictures of the gate markings. This will be deactivated so you can make entry into the Paris-bound tunnel approximately eight hundred metres our side of the target. The team will move five minutes after the sniper group, and support them from the security gate as they move along the Paris-bound tunnel.’

  There was a roar of engines and the smell of bubbling rubber as the Red team’s Range Rovers screamed into the hangar after their Formula One fast drive. They formed up exactly as the Blue team had done, only closer to the toilet block. The Blue team ignored them. They had more important things to concentrate on.

  ‘The Red team will move into the tunnel as soon as they’re bombed-up and will hold in the service tunnel until called forward for hostage reception. Behind them will be police and emergency services. Any questions?’

  There weren’t.

  ‘Good. Last chance to sort your shit out.’

  That was all there was to say. Everybody knew the rest. As the Blue team turned towards their wagons, each assault-team commander was already talking to his guys. The Regiment was good at this. The skills used to make entry and clear an area, while keeping themselves and the Yankees alive, were down to three things: training, training and more training. Hundreds of hours of it enabled the assaulters to carry out often complex tasks without even thinking. It all became second nature – which gave them the luxury of being able to focus fully on any situation as it unfolded. What they saw, what they heard – those were the things that really counted.

  ‘Jockey! Mate, a quick one.’

  ‘Aye?’

  Jockey stayed as the rest of the Blue team started to rip the bin liners off their Transits.

  Gavin gripped his arm. ‘Mate, remember this fucker has something planned down there. Don’t take any chances. The sooner he’s history the better. Fuck the ICC – keep the good guys alive. Know what I mean?’

  ‘Aye.’ Jockey knew exactly what he meant.

  Gavin headed back to his table to brief the assembling Red team. Their commander had jumped out of the first of the newly arrived Range Rovers and was already examining the boards.

  79

  TOM KEPT PARALLEL with Colin and watched as he passed the shrink-wrapped cases of water along the three occupied carriages. Some passengers made sure the kids and the elderly got a drink first. Others just grabbed the nearest bottle and gulped it down. It made Tom gulp too: he could have done with a couple of those things. The one person he wanted to see drinking was Delphine and he still couldn’t find her: neither pushed up against the glass nor anywhere inside, beyond the human shields.

  His iPhone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out. The sender ID was Delphine, and the text message read:

  where r u?

  Tom moved into cover beneath the carriage, hiding the illuminated screen inside his jacket, and tapped a response.

  close

  He
didn’t have to wait long.

  come get me coach 2 i’m scared

  He texted back.

  sit tight be there soon

  The iPhone vibrated again almost at once.

  come get me. I can run to the blown up door – meet there – tell me when you are at door and we can run

  Delphine watched, horrified, as her iPhone beeped again.

  Laszlo smiled as he read the incoming message.

  stand by – may take time

  He replied, then signalled his gunmen to position themselves by the door. They crawled quietly and purposefully along the passageway. Delphine heard a series of faint metallic clicks as they took their positions and flicked off their safety catches.

  no – now – tell me when at door – only chance want go home

  There was no response for a moment, then:

  which home?

  Laszlo knelt down beside Delphine and yanked her head back. ‘Where is home?’

  Delphine muttered through tight lips.

  He let go of her hair and let her head fall back.

  He tapped in her response.

  England

  Her heart sank even further as she heard another beep. She waited, ready to scream a warning. Laszlo looked down and read the message, then cursed and threw the iPhone to the floor. It skittered towards her. When it stopped spinning, Delphine could just read the message it contained:

  harm her – u die slowly

  Laszlo raised his hand and motioned to his men. Then he kicked out at Delphine. She took the force of his boot between her shoulder-blades and curled into a ball of pain.