re assuming that
Sunday ’ s attack was the work of someone else. Perhaps the videotape itself
is the act of terror, hoping to put us all on high alert. ”
“ Probably, ” said Sarah. “ If a suicide bomb in
Lancashire wasn ’ t enough. ”
Palu sighed. “With all of our technology and
surveillance, the one thing we can’t do is police every person on the planet.
The fact that the bomber was an elderly white man meant we were entirely
unprepared. He didn ’ t
exactly fit our profile of an extremist. ”
“ One
thing I know about crazy, ” said Sarah, “ is
that it doesn ’ t
wear a uniform or keep set hours. You can ’ t
profile hate. It can infect any of us. ”
“ Do
you think there will be further attacks, Captain?” asked Bradley. “What’s your
gut feeling?”
Sarah pulled her boots down off the desk and
looked at them. “I’m not sure. If the men in the video were organised enough
to be behind Sunday’s attacks, then perhaps there ’ s
still a threat, but why would they hide behind a charade, pretending to be Shab
Bekhier? If the real Al-Sharir finds out somebody’s using his name, they’re
signing their own death warrants within the terrorist community. Best case
scenario, it’s somebody trying to exacerbate an already distressing situation.
Maybe a small group of extremists talked Jeffrey Blanchfield into blowing
himself up. Perhaps that’s all there is to it.”
“I hope you ’ re
right, ” Palu
said. “ Needless
to say, I thank you for your assistance, Captain. It was enlightening. ”
“ Yes, ” Bradley said. “ You definitely know
your stuff. ”
“ Thank
you. ” For
some reason, Sarah couldn ’ t
be a bitch to Bradley. He was like a scolded puppy. Plus, he ’ d stood up for her
in the other room, and she owed him for that.
“I’ll take you back up top,”Howard told her. “Mandy
will be waiting to take you where you want to go.”
“I’ve always wanted to go to Disney World,”said Sarah. “I
hear they have a giant golf ball you can ride around in.”
“ Domestic flights only, I ’ m afraid, ” Howard said.
“ Come on, then. The sooner I get out of this place, the sooner I can
get the government stink off me. ”
There was a sudden electronic chirping.
Everyone looked to Palu, who plucked a small tablet from his trouser pocket.
With his free hand, he motioned for Howard and Sarah to get going. Sarah was
more than happy to oblige; her claustrophobia was starting to return. She was
just about to leave when she noticed Palu’s face had become horror-stricken.
Howard tried to pull Sarah away, but she
shrugged him off and remained standing by the glass conference table.
Palu muttered weakly into the phone. “ When, sir? I
understand, sir. We had no intel concerning that. I … yes, I agree, sir. I ’ ll await your
instructions. ”
He hung up.
“ What is it? ” Howard asked. “ Who
was on the call? ”
Palu shook his head and looked
like he was about to throw up. “ There ’ s been another attack, ” he said. “ Another suicide bombing. ”
Howard kicked a nearby chair. “ Damn it! Where? ”
Palu closed his eyes and
looked sick. “ Three more villages — Studley, Dartmouth, Aborfield — all
hit within ten minutes of each other. Downing Street are still getting all the
information they can; they ’ ll forward it to us. ”
Sarah bent forward, leaning on
the table. Three villages all at once? The country was under attack.
Bradley looked close to
tears. “ It doesn ’ t make any sense, hitting tiny villages in lieu of bigger targets.
What ’ s the significance? ”
Sarah knew immediately. “ It means nobody is safe. It means that you don ’ t have to live in London or Manchester or Birmingham anymore to be
the target of a terrorist attack. You can live in the smallest village and
still get blown up. It ’ s smart, if you think
Sunday ’ s attack was the work of someone else. Perhaps the videotape itself
is the act of terror, hoping to put us all on high alert. ”
“ Probably, ” said Sarah. “ If a suicide bomb in
Lancashire wasn ’ t enough. ”
Palu sighed. “With all of our technology and
surveillance, the one thing we can’t do is police every person on the planet.
The fact that the bomber was an elderly white man meant we were entirely
unprepared. He didn ’ t
exactly fit our profile of an extremist. ”
“ One
thing I know about crazy, ” said Sarah, “ is
that it doesn ’ t
wear a uniform or keep set hours. You can ’ t
profile hate. It can infect any of us. ”
“ Do
you think there will be further attacks, Captain?” asked Bradley. “What’s your
gut feeling?”
Sarah pulled her boots down off the desk and
looked at them. “I’m not sure. If the men in the video were organised enough
to be behind Sunday’s attacks, then perhaps there ’ s
still a threat, but why would they hide behind a charade, pretending to be Shab
Bekhier? If the real Al-Sharir finds out somebody’s using his name, they’re
signing their own death warrants within the terrorist community. Best case
scenario, it’s somebody trying to exacerbate an already distressing situation.
Maybe a small group of extremists talked Jeffrey Blanchfield into blowing
himself up. Perhaps that’s all there is to it.”
“I hope you ’ re
right, ” Palu
said. “ Needless
to say, I thank you for your assistance, Captain. It was enlightening. ”
“ Yes, ” Bradley said. “ You definitely know
your stuff. ”
“ Thank
you. ” For
some reason, Sarah couldn ’ t
be a bitch to Bradley. He was like a scolded puppy. Plus, he ’ d stood up for her
in the other room, and she owed him for that.
“I’ll take you back up top,”Howard told her. “Mandy
will be waiting to take you where you want to go.”
“I’ve always wanted to go to Disney World,”said Sarah. “I
hear they have a giant golf ball you can ride around in.”
“ Domestic flights only, I ’ m afraid, ” Howard said.
“ Come on, then. The sooner I get out of this place, the sooner I can
get the government stink off me. ”
There was a sudden electronic chirping.
Everyone looked to Palu, who plucked a small tablet from his trouser pocket.
With his free hand, he motioned for Howard and Sarah to get going. Sarah was
more than happy to oblige; her claustrophobia was starting to return. She was
just about to leave when she noticed Palu’s face had become horror-stricken.
Howard tried to pull Sarah away, but she
shrugged him off and remained standing by the glass conference table.
Palu muttered weakly into the phone. “ When, sir? I
understand, sir. We had no intel concerning that. I … yes, I agree, sir. I ’ ll await your
instructions. ”
He hung up.
“ What is it? ” Howard asked. “ Who
was on the call? ”
Palu shook his head and looked
like he was about to throw up. “ There ’ s been another attack, ” he said. “ Another suicide bombing. ”
Howard kicked a nearby chair. “ Damn it! Where? ”
Palu closed his eyes and
looked sick. “ Three more villages — Studley, Dartmouth, Aborfield — all
hit within ten minutes of each other. Downing Street are still getting all the
information they can; they ’ ll forward it to us. ”
Sarah bent forward, leaning on
the table. Three villages all at once? The country was under attack.
Bradley looked close to
tears. “ It doesn ’ t make any sense, hitting tiny villages in lieu of bigger targets.
What ’ s the significance? ”
Sarah knew immediately. “ It means nobody is safe. It means that you don ’ t have to live in London or Manchester or Birmingham anymore to be
the target of a terrorist attack. You can live in the smallest village and
still get blown up. It ’ s smart, if you think
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