Cell

by Colin Forbes

  'First chap was mine,' Marler's voice said behind Beaurain. He had shot him with his Armalite.

  Further along to their right there had been continuous gunfire from the SAS, eliminating more dinghies with armed men aboard. Suddenly the inferno of sound - exploding Arabs in their dinghies, the rattle of weapons keeping up a non-stop bombardment from the Embankment - had stopped.

  The silence Paula had experienced while they'd driven to the plinth returned. It was almost a shock. She wiped her sweating hands on her uniform, poked a finger gently in her right ear. The silence was more apparent. Her eyes were fixed on the barge in the middle of the river.

  It was an awesome spectacle. The combination of the huge bomb waiting to be launched through the main hatch together with - perfect timing - Sarge's counter-bomb plunging down before the Arabs had detonated their bomb, had caused an explosion of terrible power. Plus the fact that the explosion took place in the confined space of the interior hull.

  Amidships, the barge was splitting open. The river poured in, adding to the pressure. Paula stared in wonderment as the barge separated into two parts. The forward area where the bows were already diving below the surface. The stern area wallowing.

  'You stupid sightseers, get back here into the jeeps,' Tweed's commanding voice echoed in the silence. 'Our friends are already on their way.'

  'Coming,' Paula shouted back.

  'We have to save Westminster Bridge,' Tweed thundered back.

  She dived into the first jeep, where Tweed was already behind the wheel. Newman had cleared the. camouflage branches from three jeeps. Tweed had started the vehicle moving when she looked back in time to see Beaurain jumping into a rear seat.

  Behind them Newman was driving another jeep. She saw Harry scrambling over the back into a rear seat while the jeep was in motion.

  The third jeep was being driven by Marler, shouting something she couldn't hear. Just as well, his language was salty. Nield just managed to climb over into a rear seat as Marler began moving. The fact that everyone was encumbered with heavy satchels, were clutching sub-machine guns, hadn't helped them.

  Paula looked ahead, just in time to see the last of the SAS jeeps disappearing. They had to be in position before barge No. 2 arrived. At this stage Paula said to herself, 'No casualties so far.' Not aloud. Tempting fate.

  Nor had she any reason to guess that the assault on Westminster Bridge would be a near-disaster.

  48

  Aboard Barge No. 4, Ali also had radio communication with the skippers of the other barges. Not as sophisticated as Sarge's, it still gave him warning of what was happening.

  'We are being killed by gunmen ashore,' Mohammed, skipper of the first barge, reported as his control station at the rear began to sink.

  'Stay calm. Be precise,' Ali ordered.

  'All the men in dinghies who headed for the left bank have been killed. That is where the enemy is . . .'

  'What weapons are they using?' Ali demanded.

  'Automatic weapons. Many of them . . .'

  'Where are the gunmen stationed?'

  'Somewhere on the river bank. We didn't see them . . .'

  Mohammed adjusted his headset. He voice was becoming hysterical. The deckhouse was now close to the water. Soon it would be under the river.

  'What about the bridge? Your objective?' snapped Ali.

  'Waterloo is standing. We are sinking. The whole barge. . .'

  'You should have told me that first. What caused it to sink?'

  'I'm leaving. I'm going to drown . . .'

  The voice ended in a gurgle as the river flooded into the deckhouse with terrifying speed. Mohammed was drowned before he could make his way out.

  Ali had heard the first gurgle, had guessed what had happened. The trouble was all the skippers of the other barges would have heard the calamitous news. Different tactics were called for as they approached Westminster. He took a quick decision.

  Europeans always repeated their tactics. Especially when they were successful. He had to surprise them. His voice was calm as he spoke again.

  'The plan will proceed. Mohammed was exaggerating. He became hysterical. I am now coming aboard Barge No. 2. Have a rope ladder at the stern I can use to come aboard.'

  He turned to his deputy, saw that he had anticipated what Ali would need. He was lowering a small, powerful speedboat at the stern. He then shinned down the rope to take over the controls.

  Ali was beside him before he had expected the commander's arrival. Ali spoke quietly, firmly.

  'Top speed. Remember to zig-zag- the way you did once on the Nile. We will trick them.'

  49

  The SIS and SAS units were in position roughly midway between Westminster and Lambeth bridges. They were well-concealed. Paula wore her night-glasses as the menacing snout of the next barge appeared under Lambeth Bridge.

  Once again she spotted the second weapon stationed on deck to take down the main struts of the next target. She reported to Sarge. The barge was clear of the bridge swiftly, helped by the turn of the tide now flowing downriver, by the wind which was gaining in strength . . .

  She pressed the lenses closer to her eyes, puzzled. Could not believe was she was seeing. It was important to tell Sarge what she was seeing.

  'Barge changing direction. Appears to be heading towards this bank, towards us.'

  'I have seen,' Sarge replied. 'Thanks for confirmation.'

  'That's not all. Wait a minute. I must be sure . . .'

  She was scanning the deck from stern to prow. Large numbers of the enemy were crouched down on the port side. Their side. Why? Then she saw the barrels of many weapons perched on the gunwale. She made herself speak calmly.

  'Arabs in force stationed along deck. Almost hidden by gunwale. A huge quantity of weapons ready to fire.'

  'Thank you . . .'

  Sarge raised his own glasses, swept them along the deck. She was right. He grasped at once the new tactic. Diabolically clever. He issued a new order.

  'No one, repeat no one is to open fire whatever happens. They are waiting for us to do that - so they can locate our positions. We may come under fire. Do not reply.'

  The barge, looking immense the closer it came, was sailing on an almost diagonal course across the river. Sarge could not fire his bomb and missile at this angle. But soon they would have to change course or hit the Embankment.

  'No dinghies came our way. They will later,' Buchanan reported.

  It was the first time the Superintendent had communicated with them. It told Tweed, Beaurain - and Sarge -that the police anti-terrorist force stationed on the opposite bank was in the closest touch with the situation.

  'Turn, damn you,' Paula said to herself.

  As though hearing her, the barge changed course to avoid collision with the Embankment. Then it began. A storm of bullets raked the Embankment and the area beyond. Once started, it never seemed to stop. Not knowing where their opponents were, the al-Qa'eda were doing everything possible to tempt return fire - so their enemy's locations would be revealed.

  Paula crouched lower, pushed down by Beaurain. It took incredible will-power to stay still under the barrage of gunfire without returning fire. Paula gritted her teeth, hating this situation. She glanced at Tweed, was surprised at his clinical expression. Typical, she thought. In a crisis he freezes.

  The murderous barrage continued. She heard a gulp from her left, saw Harry clutching his shoulder. He had been hit. Moving very carefully, she reached him, removed his hand - covered with blood. She felt inside her shoulder-bag, took out her medical kit.

  Using scissors, she gently cut away a portion of his uniform from the top of his shoulder. She risked using her torch, shielding the beam with one hand. The bullet had grazed his shoulder, scooping out a shallow channel. She squirted antiseptic water on it, removed the blood. Harry was looking at her, smiling. He shook his head. This is nothing, his shrug told her.

  When she had cleaned the wound she used an antiseptic pad to cover it
. Fixed it in place with tape. No blood oozed from underneath the pad. She put her mouth close to his ear. It was the only way he'd hear her with the infernal gunfire continuing.

  'Don't use your left arm. Not before we get back.'

  'It's OK. I heard you. Thanks.'

  A blasting explosion shook the ground under their feet. Now grenades were being hurled from the barge at random. Then the explosions ceased. She looked up.

  The barge had turned away from the Embankment, was heading towards mid river. All around them the cluster of trees they had sheltered under were shattered. Paula, knowing she'd not be seen now, stood up. The barge was heading straight for Westminster Bridge, the prize target.

  The SAS unit was stationed nearer the target, to the left of where the SIS sheltered. Sarge was now able to adjust his large mortar, using its laser beam to aim the bomb. He looked at his subordinate, saw he was rapidly adjusting the angle of the missile launcher. He nodded.

  The huge shell sailed towards its target, dropped neatly down the main hatch. At the same moment the missile whipped out of its muzzle, landed on the smaller weapon at the bows.

  Paula felt sure the massive explosion was greater than she had witnessed with the first barge. The vessel shook from stem to stern. Flames lit up the river, then dense clouds of black smoke drifted above the flames. The barge began to heel over to starboard.

  In the deckhouse Ali was badly shaken, but nothing in his expression showed. He realized the entire barge would be going down. He turned to the skipper he had taken over from.

  'I have to leave to check the other barges. You are now in command . . .'

  He shinned down the rope ladder still attached to the stern. The small speedboat had been moored above the rudder. His assistant was already inside the speedboat, ready to operate the controls. AH lost his calm for a brief moment. He shouted at his assistant.

  'Get us the hell out of here. Back to Barge No. 4, my original command post.'

  'Immediately,' said the assistant, who had cut the mooring rope. He started up the engine, swung the speedboat away from the huge vessel which was turning turtle. Ali pushed him aside, grabbed the wheel.

  'You forgot. For the sake of Allah we zig-zag.'

  50

  'Everybody into the jeeps. Move if you value your lives.'

  There was an urgency in Sarge's communication Paula had never heard before. Out on the river the barge was still wallowing above the surface. She tried to help Harry as they rushed to the jeeps. He smiled, pushed her away.

  'I can get there. Shoulder just aches a bit. I can use both hands to operate a sub-machine gun . . .'

  Everyone was inside a jeep in record time, even carrying their satchels and weapons. The SAS unit had already swept past under Lambeth Bridge. She looked back as Tweed rammed down his foot on the accelerator. She then realized the foresight Sarge had shown, the reason for his urgency.

  The full length of the barge suddenly sank swiftly deep down into the river. Its descent, so swift, added to its weight, divided the river briefly. She felt sure she had a glimpse of the river bed. Then two monster waves swept towards each bank, struck them like a cyclone, hurling unknown tons of water across the Embankment and up the sides beyond the pavement. They would have been inundated. She sighed with relief as they sped under the bridge and the river became normal.

  There would have been no time for the crowds of men aboard to leave. They were now entombed in the sunken barge lying on the river bed.

  The Arab commander of the three remaining barges, proceeding upriver, Sarge correctly guessed, would not try the same trick again. Sarge simply moved his three firing points closer to the target bridges, but far enough away so they would not be touched by his own bombs exploding.

  Two barges were sunk by his bombs. They sank slowly, giving al-Qa'eda time to lower men in dinghies. But this time, on Ali's orders, they headed towards the right bank. None of them reached the shore alive. Buchanan's anti-terrorist squad killed them all while they were still on the river.

  Barge No. 5, with Ali now aboard, assigned to destroy Chelsea Bridge, received its bomb and missile as soon as it was well clear of the bridge, earlier than Ali had expected.

  The vessel burst into flames along its whole length. The Arabs in dinghies, who had fled the barge, again headed for the right bank. Again, Buchanan's men, some using flame-throwers for the first time, killed all the Arabs before any came near the river bank.

  The barge, which must have carried a large reserve of ammo, suddenly blew up. The deckhouse was hurled into the sky, fell back into the river, disappearing with a sinister hiss. Other sections flew skywards, descended, to be swallowed up by the fast-flowing river. Buchanan later congratulated his men on doing a great job.

  Despite all his other responsibilities, Buchanan had not forgotten the captive guard at Dick's wharf. He disagreed with the decision that they should not risk rescuing Proctor.

  After all it was his city, his side of the river. Therefore he gave careful instructions to Sergeant Mackie, marksman. Marler was recognized as being the top marksman in Europe, but Mackie was number two.

  Earlier, Mackie, his rifle strapped over his shoulder, had cycled to Dick's wharf. Marler would have admired how silently Mackie moved when he reached his objective. He had descended to the main building where lights shone in a large office. Peering through a window, he saw Proctor tied to a chair. He also saw the brute of a guard armed with an automatic.

  The last barge, destined to target Albert Bridge, was still moored to the wharf. As Mackie watched he saw the guard go to a window, peer down at the barge where men were removing mooring ropes. It was about to sail.

  Mackie tested the window, was surprised to find it was not locked. Al-Qa'eda's security was not perfect. The guard had his back towards him, watching the crew below, as Mackie slowly pushed the window open, inch by inch. Hinges well oiled.

  One of the crew on the wharf beckoned to the guard, pointed to a rope ladder slung over the side of the hull, the escape route. The guard came back into the room, checked his automatic. He then walked behind Proctor, raised the gun to lay it alongside Proctor's head.

  Mackie coughed. The guard swung round, removing his weapon from Proctor's head. Mackie shot him twice - once in the head just in case he was wearing a bullet-proof jacket - then in the back below the left shoulder-blade. The guard toppled down forward, hitting the wooden floor with a thud.

  Mackie climbed inside, ran to the prone guard, kicked away the automatic close to his hand. Bending down, he checked the carotid artery. Nothing. Dead as a dodo. He turned to Proctor, who had a dazed expression.

  'Don't worry. I'm British anti-terrorist squad. Let's get these ropes off you. Expect you'll want to call your wife.'

  51

  'No sign of the SAS jeeps,' Harry called out.

  Paula had helped him up into the rear of the jeep driven by Tweed. She looked back. Harry was right. There were three jeeps behind them but they carried the rest of Tweed's team. Beyond that there was empty Embankment as they headed for Albert Bridge. Driving with one hand, Tweed reached for his radio-telephone, hoping it had not been disconnected.

  'Sarge, any hope of saving Albert?'

  'Sorry. None. We have used up our special equipment. Only just come into service. I raided the store. Keep well clear of Albert. I leave it to you and Buchanan to deal with any enemy who might survive. My unit has been proud to cooperate with yours. Until next time . . .'

  Then the connection was broken. The SAS had gone, as invisibly as they had arrived. Paula caught a glimpse of police cars racing along the opposite bank, keeping pace with Tweed's unit.

  'I at least want to see Albert,' she said.

  'But not too close,' Tweed warned.

  'At least we've saved five out of six major bridges,' Newman commented over the phone, which was independent, but had earlier been linked with Sarge's communication system.

  Tweed parked close to the Chelsea Royal Hospital area. The other thr
ee jeeps pulled up behind him. He jumped out, went back to them.

  'I am now giving you a direct order. You will stay here and go no closer to the bridge. You probably heard Sarge's warning. We can do nothing to save Albert. But, as Newman said, five out of six major bridges saved is a good score.'