‘What are the extradition procedures like from Morocco?’ asked the Defence Secretary.
‘They’re a diplomatically friendly country. We have successfully extradited the £50m Securitas robber from there.’ Ewan paused. ‘However, the procedure is long-winded and the evidence has to be watertight and well-documented. Put bluntly, time wouldn’t be on our side. Sheikh Tufayl, a Muslim, is very wealthy and very well-connected. He has the ability to slip the net if he winds up in the hands of the Moroccan authorities.’
‘How important do we think that these people are?’ asked the PM.
‘Very,’ replied Ewan. ‘We’re dealing with international players who are in the vanguard of financing terrorist activities. Their bank accounts are in both neutral countries and some less than neutral. Deals struck in the financial and derivatives markets can easily be done via intermediaries – something like the Banco de “we launder your money for a fee”. The turnover in the derivative markets is vast. Tracking down such transactions would take time and the profits made would rapidly become untraceable. We believe that we need positive proof of the ringleaders’ involvement and can’t afford to let them slip away to fight another day. Capturing them in flagrante delicto would make it far simpler to freeze their assets and then have them confiscated. If they think that they’ve been successful, they and their accomplices will be less likely to go to ground.’
Ewan looked at the PM. ‘In addition, there would be a feel-good factor from the news coverage following their capture. However, our priority is to scupper their plans and then apprehend them.’
Kate spoke up. ‘It’s worth remembering that the four Chechens are dangerous killers. If we were to corner them with people around, all hell could break loose and the collateral damage could be large. If we follow them we can pick them up well away from others. I should make it very clear that we would only wish them to be allowed to escape to the trawlers if and only if their Kornet and Vektor weapons are out of action.’
The PM paused after Kate had finished. He thought carefully about what she had said.
‘My last question is: could you please explain your fears relating to the financial markets?’
Rafi glanced at Kate and Aidan. They nodded at him. ‘Could I answer that one, please, Prime Minister?’
‘Yes, go ahead.’
Rafi thought for a moment about where it would be best to start and eventually decided to start at the beginning, with the description of their three PhD theses. ‘John and Jeremy discussed the ringleaders’ work with a senior lecturer who was a contemporary of theirs; he described their dissertations as being incisive and of exemplary standard. To quote him: “If one puts them together, they’re rather like the instruction kit for building a financial atomic bomb.” ’
The PM shifted uncomfortably in his chair.
‘Sheikh Tufayl is conservatively worth $10 billion,’ continued Rafi. ‘Jameel Furud, through his control of Prima Terra Fund Managers, has around £30 billion of funds under his management; Maryam has, we estimate, a similar sum under her control. Talal, in contrast, has been using the sheikh’s money to build up their terrorist infrastructure. They have billions of pounds at their disposal. They are seeking to undermine the Government’s finances,’ he paused, letting the point sink home. ‘The terrorist activities should be viewed in the context of the recent stock market crash and the continuing uneasiness in investor sentiment. Their aim is to trigger – amongst other things – price falls in long gilts and large rises in long interest rates, which will enable them to make massive profits from their positions in the derivative markets.’
Rafi stopped and looked around the table to check that the guests had taken on board what he’d been saying. ‘Aidan has been doing excellent work on the scale of their intervention into these derivative markets.’ He leant forward and looked past Kate at Aidan.
‘Yes, Prime Minister; in a nutshell, if they achieve their ambition they’ll saddle the derivatives markets with losses in the region of £50-100 billion,’ added Aidan. ‘I have identified a sufficient number of contracts to confirm the scale of the numbers involved.’
The Prime Minister looked at Rafi and then at Aidan. ‘Well, there’s an uncomplicated answer: we close down the market and unwind the positions in the derivative contracts.’
Rafi looked at the PM. ‘Might I enlarge, please?’ he enquired politely.
‘Yes,’ came the slightly clipped reply.
‘The terrorists have identified a number of areas where Government guarantees exist. Their aim is to bring billions of pounds of debts and liabilities back on to the Government’s balance sheet. In particular they are targeting the accelerated decommissioning and clean-up costs of nuclear power stations, and the money that will be required to stop the outsourced public sector services that they control from collapsing. This would put the weakened Government finances into a very nasty position,’ concluded Rafi.
‘This all seems rather far-fetched if you ask me,’ said the Defence Secretary. ‘My view is that the greedy bastards want to make a financial killing, nothing more nothing less. Let’s stop the trading in the contracts that Aidan has identified and get on with catching them.’
The PM looked at Aidan and Rafi. ‘Do you believe that the Government’s finances are in peril?’
‘Yes sir. These terrorists aren’t just financially astute and used to dealing with huge sums of money; they are also exceedingly devious and clever. They seem hell-bent on inflicting as much damage as possible to our country. It is as if they have declared war on our economy.’
Rafi sensed that the Defence Secretary disagreed. ‘In the limited time available to us, we’ve looked at the two most obvious derivatives contracts and can confirm that they have big positions. I strongly believe there will be others and they will have been trading in Frankfurt and Chicago. It would be nigh on impossible to unwind the myriad of positions they and possibly their associates have built up.’
‘This is bloody preposterous!’ burst out the Defence Secretary. ‘This is all too much. You’re exaggerating – trying to play things up for your own self-importance! Have none of this Prime Minister – get on and stop the terrorist attacks. We can let the Treasury and the Bank of England sort out the financial problems next week, as and when they occur.’
Aidan was doing an excellent impression of a boiler building up a head of steam: his ears had gone red and his eyes had narrowed. He was close to telling the Defence Secretary exactly what he thought of him.
‘Do you have a solution?’ asked the Prime Minister.
‘We believe that we do, sir. All we ask is that the authorities don’t procrastinate. We’re working on a detailed report for the Chancellor of the Exchequer, his Treasury team and the Board of the Bank of England as to how these financial problems can be contained. All we’re asking is to be allowed to put these proposals in front of them tomorrow as soon as we know how badly or otherwise things are going to be. In light of the impending attacks it’s our suggestion that the London financial markets do not open tomorrow. This will give us—’
‘That’s exactly what I suggested!’ burst out the Defence Secretary.
‘Not quite,’ Aidan added quietly. ‘Your suggestion was to unwind derivatives transactions; ours is to close the market for a day to give us time to counter the terrorists’ financial attacks. What we have to avoid is procrastination; if the markets pass the point of no return, I’m absolutely certain that financial Armageddon will become an unstoppable reality for the UK economy.
The Prime Minister looked perturbed.
The Air Chief Marshal spoke. ‘Prime Minister, might I make a suggestion? I hear what our friends here have been saying. As I see it, they are experts in their field and we’re not. If what they say is correct, it could have damaging consequences that far outweigh the physical damage that the terrorists might inflict. Without a prosperous economy and a fully operational banking sector our democracy would be undermined. Let us focus on stopping the
terrorists – their missile and suicide bomber attacks – but at the same time we should run with Mr Khan and Mr Gilchrist’s assertions and get the experts and the top decision makers at the Treasury and the Bank to consider their grave predictions, as soon as practical.’
The PM nodded. ‘Thank you, Sir Nigel; that makes good sense.’
The commissioner cast his eyes in Rafi’s direction. ‘You had something else to say, I believe.’
‘Not more bloody financial pessimism!’ exclaimed the Defence Secretary in an irritated tone.
Rafi smiled. ‘No sir, some good news for once. If we can stop the markets from falling and hold long interest rates where they are until, say, the middle of next week, the terrorists’ positions in the derivative markets will become untenable. Their margin calls will become larger and larger, and they’ll be financially wiped out. This will eliminate several billion pounds from their coffers, damage many of the shadier banks and set back the terrorist cause by months if not years.’
He stopped and glanced at the PM. ‘We have a plan.’ he paused. ‘Government real estate investment trusts could be created, thus providing the Government with a source of finance that will enable it to meet such financial obligations as and when they arise. It will remove the need to tap the gilts markets, and help the Government refinance its increased borrowings resulting from the bail out of the UK banking system.’
‘Why didn’t you say that sooner?’ interjected the tetchy Defence Secretary.
The Prime Minister smiled. ‘So there’s a silver lining – as long as we take on board your solution and you get it right.’
‘Yes, Prime Minister.’
‘Right, back to matters at hand,’ said the PM. ‘The outstanding question that we need to answer is: do the terrorists have a contingency plan “B” in place? And if so, how much damage might a Kornet missile inflict? I’d be very interested to hear your views, Air Chief Marshal.’
‘The damage could be extensive. If MI5 are confident that they know where the terrorists are going to attack in all but one of the locations, why give them a second chance?’
‘Ewan?’
‘From MI5’s standpoint we can’t believe our good fortune in finding where the attacks are likely to come from. Why risk tipping the terrorists off?’
‘Defence Secretary?’
‘We’ve everything in place to run such an operation from COBRA. And how certain are we anyway that these properties are where the terrorists will be located rather than just decoys? I believe that the two moles in COBRA should be apprehended so that we can get COBRA up and running, using the advantages that its set up will give us. I’d be willing to take the seemingly minute risk that there isn’t a third mole. However, I will fall into line if everyone else believes COBRA isn’t the right way forward at this point in time.’
‘Commissioner, what are your views on COBRA?’
‘The consequences of the terrorists swapping to a plan “B” are, in my opinion, too great a risk to contemplate whilst they and the four Kornet missile launchers are at large. Perhaps, sir, you might like to take a look at the emergency operations room we’ve set up downstairs before you make up your mind?’
The PM turned to Ewan. ‘Please arrange for the two suspect COBRA individuals to be brought in without tipping off the terrorists, and see if you can discover how they were going to contact the terrorists.’
‘Yes, sir. We have them under surveillance.’
The PM looked at Kate and her team.
‘We owe you a great debt of gratitude for all your work and insight into the terrorists’ activities, and thank you for placing our troubles into context. Mr Khan, thank you for your tenacity. And thank you to the rest of you.’
Kate took that as the invitation to leave. Her team filed out of the room.
They didn’t have to wait long. Jeremy received a call on his mobile. ‘Bloody hell, no! Well, I’m damned.’ He listened a little longer and then said, ‘Thank you.’
Jeremy looked across at John. ‘My colleagues have interviewed one of the COBRA suspects. He gave them the phone number he was to ring and the phrase he was to use each time COBRA was activated. They traced the landline number as the ex-directory number of a special press adviser. However, the call was to be redirected through to the voicemail box of a mobile phone. And – would you bloody well believe it? – the mobile is currently located on the outskirts of Aldermaston, 200 metres away from where the suicide bombers are holed up in the horsebox. It’s a bit of luck; we had assumed that they were all together.’
Kate and Rafi settled down and went through their paperwork to see if they had missed anything that could lead them to the missing target. Hours later they had still found nothing.
Rafi felt exhausted. He turned to Kate. ‘I need sleep.’
‘Would you like me to come and tuck you in?’ she asked with a mischievous smile.
‘Not tonight, thank you,’ he replied. ‘Could you wake me at 4 a.m., or earlier if I’m needed?
‘Will do,’ replied Kate. Rafi walked down the back stairs to the basement, grabbed a blanket and pillow and lay down on his cell bed. His mind started to clear. He got up, knelt down and for the first time in over a week said his prayers. Back on the bed, within moments, he was out for the count.
Just before 4 a.m. Rafi was woken by Jeremy. He was groggy and struggled to get his brain back into gear. Strong black coffee was waiting for him upstairs.
‘Hey, you still look rough,’ said Kate cheerily as Rafi walked in. ‘You’ve chosen a good time to join us. Things are hotting up in the Ops Room. It’s like a game of chess. If you come down the corridor with me, I’ll bring you up to speed.’
Kate started putting him in the picture. ‘Emma, Peter and John are catching up on some sleep down in the cells, as is the economics team. The duty sergeant has never known the cells to be so full of sober people. The Defence Secretary’s mood has improved; it seems first impressions are deceiving – in fact he’s conducting himself rather well.’ She paused. ‘As you’ll see, the Air Chief Marshal has brought in a specialist anti-terrorism expert and a couple of senior officers to act as coordinators.’
Rafi tentatively entered the Ops Room. It was buzzing. Kate and he stood out of the way to one side. The video conference screen to his left was linked up with the SAS command centre. The Air Chief Marshal, Brigadier Harold Sparkman and Colonel Paul Gray were discussing the first operation – the capture of the two suicide bombers and Kaleem Shah at Aldermaston. The colonel gave instructions and two teams, red and blue, were deployed. The plan was to overwhelm the suicide bombers and the journalist at precisely the same moment.
The two suicide bombers were not expected to be much of a problem. They were not professional soldiers, but they did have two large bombs in their horsebox. Speed and an element of caution were going to be critical.
The SAS commander reported that the two bombers were, to all intents and purposes, tucked up in the living quarters of the horsebox and appeared to be sleeping fitfully.
Kaleem Shah was a different matter. He had many years’ experience of working in war zones. He was undoubtedly a cautious and capable soldier. The fact that he’d opted to sleep a couple of hundred metres away from the two terrorists suggested that he was expecting the unexpected.
The infrared sensors had identified the journalist as lying quietly across the back seat of the large Jeep. The vehicle was positioned such that it had a line of sight through to the horsebox and a second 4x4, but was largely screened by twiggy vegetation and small saplings.
It was all quiet in and around the large Jeep and the horsebox. The two SAS teams silently approached the two vehicles and waited for their orders.
Rafi watched, totally caught up in the proceedings. Unlike watching TV, this was real. He felt his heart pounding.
Just then Colonel Gray gave the command for the two assaults. There was a short delay and then from the video link there was the sound of two muffled explosions. The speaker cr
ackled as it picked up the voice of the red team leader who was commanding a team of three against the journalist and his Jeep. ‘We’ve secured the vehicle and have captured the journalist. He didn’t put up a struggle. We found two booby traps outside the vehicle. Nothing too sophisticated, but nasty enough to take off a leg.’
The blue team simultaneously descended on the horsebox, found nothing untoward protecting it and seized the two suicide bombers, dragging them from their sleeping bags out into the open.
At that moment a loud bang echoed around the room. The horsebox erupted into a fireball.
‘Shit! The bastard had a radio-controlled device up his sleeve,’ was heard from the speaker.
‘Blue team, come in blue team!’ There was silence.
Two further loud explosions were heard as the terrorists’ explosives went up.
The Air Chief Marshal looked at the colonel. ‘Not a good start Harold, is it?’
The silence was followed by a muffled voice across the video link.
‘Jesus, that was close,’ said a shaky voice. ‘Two of us are singed, but otherwise fine; two have suffered minor injuries from flying debris, but my corporal has an eighteen-inch piece of aluminium sticking out of his thigh. The two suicide bombers are in a bad way – one has a piece of shrapnel in his chest. They had no protective clothing on and both are badly burnt.’
‘Get the three terrorists out of there and into protective custody. As far as everyone is concerned, the two suicide bombers are dead, got that?’ ordered Colonel Gray.
‘Yes sir.’
The journalist had attached a small radio-controlled explosive device to the fuel tank of the horsebox, which had ignited around 100 litres of diesel.
Colonel Gray gave the order, ‘Initiate phase two.’ The dull thud of an explosion in the distance was audible. The video screen showed a section of Aldermaston’s outer fence with a gaping hole and a nearby building on fire, billowing black smoke.
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