First Response

by Stephen Leather

  ‘Where was that?’

  ‘I don’t know. This morning some time. We were in a warehouse. They blew a guy up and said the same would happen to us if we didn’t follow instructions.’

  ‘They? Who are they?’

  ‘I only saw one of them. A guy calling himself Shahid. I never saw his face, had a ski mask on. Asian. Five ten, five eleven, maybe. London accent.’ He sighed. ‘I need a bath. And a meal.’

  ‘No bath, not yet,’ said Adams. ‘We’re going to need to take your clothes for Forensics. Then you’ll have to be debriefed. But I’ll see if I can get some food sorted.’ He took out his phone. ‘I’ll call Gold.’

  LAMBETH CENTRAL COMMUNICATIONS COMMAND CENTRE (7.27 p.m.)

  Kamran followed Gillard into the Gold Command suite. The chief superintendent picked up the phone. He was expecting to be talking to an assistant but it was the prime minister himself. ‘Well done, Chief Superintendent. A perfect resolution. It couldn’t have gone better.’

  ‘Thank you, sir,’ said Gillard.

  ‘Not a single shot fired, no one hurt, and the prisoners still in custody. Frankly, we’re in awe of you. You’ll have to come around when you’re done and talk us through it.’

  ‘Yes, sir,’ said Gillard. ‘I’ll gladly do that.’ He closed his eyes and exhaled, knowing that, as things stood, he had no idea how he would explain the events of the past ten hours, and certainly not the resolution.

  ‘Please pass on my thanks to the whole team there. It really was a job well done.’

  ‘I will, sir.’

  ‘They gave up, is that what happened? They realised we weren’t going to negotiate? Your strategy worked?’

  ‘It was a complicated situation, sir. I’m still trying to get my head around it.’

  ‘Well, I’ll tell you this, Chief Superintendent. You deserve a medal, and if I have my way, you’ll be getting one.’

  ‘Thank you, sir,’ said Gillard, but the line was already dead. He put down the phone. ‘What the hell happened, Mo?’ he said. ‘I’ll happily take the credit for a successful operation but we didn’t do anything. Shahid just walked away.’

  ‘Like Lynne said, it could have been a test.’

  ‘They want something bigger than getting us to release six ISIS prisoners? And if it was a terrorist act, what could be worse than nine bombs going off across the city?’

  Kamran’s mobile rang and he took it out.

  ‘Is it him? Is it Shahid?’

  Kamran shook his head. ‘Ian Adams, at the airport.’ He put the phone to his ear. ‘Yes, Ian.’

  ‘Sorry to bother you, sir, but I need to run a few things by you.’

  ‘No problem, Ian. Go ahead.’

  ‘I’m here with Kashif Talpur, the NCA guy. He confirms that they were under duress. According to him, he saw a vest explode and kill the man wearing it.’

  ‘Where was this?’

  ‘He doesn’t know. Sir, what do I do with him?’

  ‘Get him to GT Ops as quickly as possible. His governor can meet him here. Where are the men who were wearing the vests?’

  ‘The SAS have them under guard at the hangar. But if they were acting under duress, I’m not sure if we can do that, right?’

  ‘At the moment we’re not sure of anything,’ said Kamran. ‘What have you done so far?’

  ‘The ISIS prisoners are en route back to Belmarsh. I’ve removed everyone from the hangar, except for the Bomb Squad people and the men wearing the vests, though it’s now definite that all the vests are inert. The hostages are being looked after at the main terminal. There was a chain and a padlock at the back of each vest so they had to be cut off. All the men wearing the vests are telling the same story – they were forced into it. They’re claiming the vests could only be detonated by remote control and that they had been told if they didn’t follow their instructions they’d be killed.’

  ‘They all say that?’ asked Kamran.

  ‘All of them. The thing is, sir, do we arrest them? They claim that they were under duress. Can they be arrested? And what about the hostages? They’re asking to go home. I don’t see how we can continue to hold them against their will.’

  ‘So far as the hostages go, tell them we want to make sure that they’re physically and mentally well,’ said Kamran. ‘Take them to the nearest police station and get medics to give them the once-over. But keep them separate from each other. I don’t want them comparing stories. While you’re doing that, have them interviewed, but gently. Get them to tell us exactly what happened at each location. We’re also going to need their shoes and clothing for Forensics. And have them photographed straight away. That goes for the men in the vests, too. We need to show the state they were in after the siege ended in case that becomes an issue down the line.’

  ‘What if they insist on going home?’

  ‘Just be tactful. Explain that we need their help, and ask them to give a full statement. And tell them we have a right to take their clothing as it’s evidence. But if they absolutely insist and they have satisfactorily identified themselves, then, yes, take them home. But send officers with them and have the officers stay outside their houses. We’ll send investigating officers later. Oh, and don’t let them know that the vests were fake.’

  Gillard was trying to catch Kamran’s eye, so he asked Adams to wait.

  ‘Everything okay?’ asked Gillard.

  ‘The undercover NCA guy confirms that they were all acting under duress,’ said Kamran. ‘I don’t have the details, but it sounds as if Shahid forced them to carry out the attacks.’

  ‘All of them? All nine?’

  ‘That’s what it sounds like. We should separate them and interview them individually, see if their stories match up.’

  Gillard nodded. ‘We need to talk to Talpur ourselves.’

  ‘What about bringing all nine here to Lambeth? It’d make it easier to cross-reference their stories.’

  ‘Go for it,’ said Gillard.

  ‘I’ll get Sergeant Lumley to fix up the rooms. What about the interviews? Who’s going to do them?’

  ‘Let’s you and I do the prelims. I’ll draft in extra manpower from SO15.’

  BIGGIN HILL AIRPORT (7.30 p.m.)

  A uniformed constable walked over to Adams. ‘Sorry, sir, but we have a problem with one of the hostages. Says he’s an MP and he’s refusing to stay.’

  ‘Ah. The Right Honourable Roger Metcalfe,’ said Adams.

  ‘He’s demanding to speak to whoever’s in charge,’ said the constable.

  ‘That would be me,’ said Adams. ‘Come on, then.’

  The constable took Adams to the main terminal where the hostages had been placed in the main arrivals area, seated apart from each other and accompanied by uniformed officers.

  A uniformed sergeant came over. His name was Andy Peters, based at the Bromley station, and he was the Bronze Commander. ‘I’m sorry, sir, but Mr Metcalfe is insisting that he talks to a senior officer.’

  ‘Not a problem,’ said Adams. ‘How are you getting on?’

  ‘We’ve got one forensic team here and there’s another on the way,’ said the sergeant. ‘They’ll do the photographs, too. We have a problem with one of the hostages. She’s a Muslim and refuses to take off her clothes.’

  ‘Let her be, then,’ said Adam. ‘Maybe suggest a female officer accompanies her home and collects the clothing there. And see about getting food for anyone who wants it. Let’s try to keep everyone happy.’

  Adams saw the MP was staring at them so he went over to introduce himself. ‘I’m Inspector Ian Adams,’ he said, ‘Silver Commander here.’

  ‘Which means you’re the man in charge?’ snapped the MP.

  ‘That’s correct.’

  ‘Then you need to tell your men to stop preventing me from going home.’

  ‘We just need you to help us with our enquiries for a little while longer, sir.’

  ‘I’m not under arrest?’

  ‘No, sir, you’re not.’

/>   ‘So I’m free to go. I can order a taxi and just go home?’

  ‘As I said, sir, we’d prefer that you help us with our enquiries. We’ll try to make it as quick and painless as possible. I’m sure you want us to catch whoever is responsible for this.’

  ‘I’m not sure how holding me against my will achieves that objective,’ said Metcalfe.

  ‘You might have information that would assist us,’ said Adams.

  ‘I was taken hostage. My life was threatened. I was forced onto a coach and driven to the middle of nowhere. You have the man in custody and, as you like to say, he’s bang to rights.’

  Adams looked pained. ‘That’s not what we say, sir. That’s more for television. We need to gather evidence and you are part of that process, I’m afraid.’

  ‘Well, I’ve told you what happened, and now I would like to go home. Or are you holding me against my will?’

  Adams shook his head. ‘No one is holding you against your will, Mr Metcalfe.’

  ‘Then I’d like to go.’

  ‘Let me be frank with you, Mr Metcalfe. You’re quite right, I cannot detain you against your will. But I can ask you to remove your shoes and clothing as they need to be examined forensically. I will be giving you a paper suit and paper shoe covers to wear. If you then want to call a taxi and go home, you are free to do so. But if you make your own travel arrangements there is nothing I can do to prevent the press getting pictures of you in that state and, trust me, those pictures won’t be flattering.’

  ‘Are you threatening me, Inspector?’

  Adams smiled amiably. ‘I’m just pointing out that if you make your own arrangements you’ll be at the mercy of the press. If you let us do our job we can keep you away from the cameras. It’s your call, sir.’

  Metcalfe glared at the inspector for several seconds, then sighed. ‘Fine. But do try to speed things up.’

  ‘Absolutely,’ said Adams. ‘Believe me, no one wants this to drag on a moment longer than necessary.’

  LAMBETH CENTRAL COMMUNICATIONS COMMAND CENTRE (7.32 p.m.)

  Kamran and Gillard walked back into the briefing room and took their places on the podium. Kamran sat down but Gillard remained standing. ‘Well, the prime minister wants to thank you all for a job well done. And you can add my thanks to his because this could have gone a lot worse. A lot worse. I still don’t quite understand how or why it worked out the way it did, but we can all pat ourselves on the back for carrying out our duties as professionally as we did. Just to give you an update, the Bomb Squad has confirmed that all the devices were non-functioning. There were no explosives, though it appears that the men wearing the vests believed that there were. It looks as if Shahid had somehow forced the men to do what they did.’

  ‘But why?’ asked Waterman. ‘None of this makes any sense.’

  ‘I’m as confused as you are, Lynne,’ said Gillard. ‘What we’re going to do is split the nine bombers up and bring them here. We’ll need nine interview rooms, which I know we don’t have so we’ll have to improvise. Mo and I will carry out preliminary interviews but I want two investigating officers assigned to each suspect and full statements taken. I also want DNA and fingerprints. At the moment we’re not arresting them, we’re asking them to help with our enquiries. If they insist on leaving, the only way to keep them is to arrest them and therein lies our problem. The NCA officer has already told Silver Commander at the scene that he was acting under duress. That being the case, we can hardly arrest him. But if we can’t arrest him, it makes it very difficult for us to arrest any of the others. And if we arrest them, under PACE we can only hold them for twenty-four hours before charging them. But what do we charge them with?’

  ‘Under the 2006 Terrorism Act they can be held for fourteen days before being charged,’ said Waterman. She smiled. ‘Sorry, don’t mean to be teaching anyone to suck eggs.’

  ‘No, you’re absolutely right. But if we know, as we do, that they were acting under duress, we can hardly claim later that we were planning to lay terrorism charges against them. And we run up against the same problem, namely that one of the men is a serving police officer. We can’t be seen to be treating him any differently from the rest of the suspects.’

  ‘So if they were under duress, there’s no offence?’ asked Murray.

  ‘It would depend on the nature of the duress,’ said Gillard. ‘But basically, yes. So our prime concern at the moment is to interview all nine. At this stage I think we do it without them being under caution. We interview them as witnesses rather than suspects. Hopefully, they’ll give DNA and fingerprints to assist us with our enquiries.’

  ‘What if they ask for a lawyer?’ said Kamran.

  ‘We explain that they’re only helping us with our enquiries and they’re not facing charges.’

  ‘But if we charge them later we’ll have problems,’ said Kamran. ‘If there is any possibility that they’ll be facing charges, they have to be cautioned.’

  Gillard nodded. ‘My gut feeling is that they were all coerced and that they won’t face charges, but let’s not put the cart before the horse.’ He looked at his watch. ‘They should be here within the hour so let’s see what we can do about getting interview rooms prepared and see what we have in the way of detectives available.’ He nodded at Kamran. ‘Mo, you and I will have first go at Kashif Talpur. Hopefully he’ll have the answers we need.’

  BIGGIN HILL AIRPORT (7.40 p.m.)

  Inspector Adams walked into the hangar and went over to Sergeant Hawkins. ‘The nine men who were wearing the vests are to be transferred to Lambeth Central Communications Command,’ said the inspector.

  Hawkins nodded. ‘So I gathered,’ he said. ‘I’m to offer you any assistance you need.’

  ‘First of all we need to split up all nine. Make that eight. I’ll take care of Kashif Talpur. The other eight need to be separated and taken to Lambeth. The police can handle that. It does appear that they were acting under duress, which means they’re not regarded as a direct threat. So it looks as if your job is done. Thanks. Much appreciated.’

  Hawkins faked a salute. ‘Happy to be of service.’

  Adams went over to Talpur, who was sitting on the floor with his back to a stack of sandbags, drinking from a plastic bottle of water. ‘Inspector Biddulph is on his way,’ said Adams. ‘He can take you to Lambeth.’

  ‘Lambeth?’

  ‘The Central Communications Command. SO15 is using that as a base for the time being.’

  ‘Am I being treated as a suspect?’

  ‘You’re providing intel,’ said Adams.

  Two SOCO officers came over. One was holding a plastic bag containing a paper suit and another with paper shoes. ‘I’m going to need your clothes,’ he said.

  Talpur sighed and got to his feet. ‘It sure as hell feels like I’m being treated as a suspect,’ he said.

  LAMBETH CENTRAL COMMUNICATIONS COMMAND CENTRE (8.30 p.m.)

  Chief Superintendent Gillard walked into the interview room holding a cup of coffee in one hand and a cheese sandwich from the canteen in the other. Kashif Talpur was sitting at the table and Inspector Mark Biddulph was next to him. ‘Apologies for me having to eat on the hoof,’ said Gillard, sitting opposite them. ‘I’m starving.’

  ‘You and me both,’ said Talpur. He was wearing a white paper forensic suit and had white paper slippers on his feet.

  ‘Haven’t they given you anything?’ asked Gillard. He pushed the sandwich over the table. ‘You have this. I’ll get some more sent in.’

  ‘We’re having something brought down from the canteen,’ said Biddulph. ‘It’s all been a bit frantic, obviously.’

  On cue the door opened and a uniformed constable brought in a tray with two coffees and a selection of sandwiches and biscuits. He put the tray down on the table and left. Talpur had already started on Gillard’s sandwich so the chief superintendent reached for another. It was tuna salad but he didn’t care what it was: he just needed the calories. He took a bite, swallowed, an
d washed it down with coffee. ‘So, Kashif, how are you?’ he asked.

  ‘Still a bit shaken up, sir,’ said Talpur. ‘And everyone calls me Kash.’

  ‘Okay, Kash, I need you to tell us exactly what happened this morning.’

  ‘It started last night,’ said Talpur. ‘I was getting home and a couple of guys approached me. One pushed something over my face and I passed out.’

  ‘This was where? Your home?’

  Talpur shook his head. ‘I’m in a small flat in Brentford,’ he said. ‘Part of my cover. The gang I’ve infiltrated have been bringing in heroin from overseas through Heathrow. Some of them are working as baggage handlers and they have a guy in Customs. He’s the one I’ve been after.’

  ‘So you’ve been undercover for how long?’ asked Gillard.

  ‘Three months. Almost four.’

  ‘And you’re in deep cover?’

  Talpur nodded. ‘I haven’t been home in two months. I work part-time in a kebab shop owned by one of the targets.’

  ‘Okay, so they knocked you out. What then?’

  ‘I woke up in a warehouse. I was tied to a chair and there was a bag over my head. I don’t know how long I was out or how long I stayed tied to the chair. Hours. All night for sure. When they took the bag off my head there was light coming through the roof skylights. It was eight o’clock, maybe.’

  ‘You say “they”. How many were they?’

  ‘In the warehouse? Just one. Called himself Shahid. I never saw his face. He wore a ski mask. We all had ski masks on, under the hoods.’

  ‘So they took the hood off you. What then?’

  ‘Shahid told us what we had to do. We all had on suicide vests. He said we would each be given our instructions and that if we didn’t do as we were told the vest would detonate. There were triggers that we had to keep in our hands, but the triggers wouldn’t work. The vests could only be detonated by mobile phone. He said we were being watched and that if we didn’t do as we were told we would be blown up. There was a pack around our waists containing our instructions and a phone. The phone couldn’t be used to call out but he could call us.’

  ‘And your instructions were to board a bus?’