a parade of shabby-looking shops, and I watched as Cecil passed a group of even more shabby-looking drunks on a bench shouting incoherently to each other in what sounded like Polish. As I looked on, one tried to stand up and simply toppled over on his side, landing against a large overflowing litter bin, much to the mirth of the others, before rolling over on the pavement while somehow keeping his drink intact. A young woman in a business suit hurried past, head down and giving them a wide berth.
No, there are no noble causes. If you fight for something you believe in, innocent people will always get hurt, and even if you achieve whatever goal it is you’ve set yourself, it’ll always end up being a hollow victory, because everything comes at a price.
Cecil walked back to the car, giving the drunks a sideways look that temporarily silenced all of them, and got back inside.
‘There’s someone who wants to meet you.’
And that was when I knew I was in.
Eleven
10.26
THE MAN WAS parked in a deserted stretch of woodland bordering a golf course just inside the M25 when he got off the phone to Cecil. He had an iPad on his lap and was watching Sky News as they continued their frenetic coverage of the coffee shop bomb attack. So far, actual hard news was scarce; they were relying on eyewitness reports and continued footage of the scene from the Sky News Copter. The fire in the café was now out, but the street was still full of emergency vehicles. According to the rolling newsreel on the bottom of the screen six people had so far been confirmed dead, with more than thirty wounded, but the death toll was expected to rise. There were also unconfirmed reports that a previously unknown terror group had claimed responsibility, that the bomber himself had fled the café before the explosion, and that he’d been arrested.
This last rumour concerned him. They’d used Akhtar Mohammed so that the attack could be blamed on Islamic fundamentalists. If it was revealed that he’d been blackmailed into delivering the bomb, then their plan fell to pieces. Worse still, Mohammed would be able to identify Martha Crossman as the intended target.
There was nothing he could do about this now, though, so he sat patiently, staring at the iPad’s screen, waiting for the signal to go to the next stage.
Sure enough, a little over five minutes later it finally came as the anchorwoman interrupted her interview with the Sky security correspondent to announce further breaking news. Viewers had been calling the newsroom to report that large numbers of armed police had surrounded a block of flats in Bayswater, barely a couple of miles from where the coffee shop bomb had exploded, and were in the process of evacuating the surrounding area. A minute after that the security correspondent announced live on air that he’d received confirmation from a source at New Scotland Yard that an ongoing armed operation was underway.
This was the amazing thing about modern life, thought the man. The speed with which news travelled was almost instantaneous. There were plenty of positives in this. It meant citizens were generally kept well informed. It made it difficult for dictatorships to hide their guilty secrets. Unfortunately, it also allowed the bad guys to monitor the progress of the security forces highly effectively.
The screen had switched back to the Sky News Copter which was now circling above the block of flats where he’d shot dead Mika and booby-trapped her body over two hours earlier. Dozens of black-clad police were moving like ants round the front of the building as they formed a cordon around it and evacuated residents from the surrounding flats. Clearly they’d traced the mobile phone he’d used to make the call claiming responsibility for the café bomb, as he’d anticipated. Of course, they wouldn’t be reckless and go storming in, even though he could see that a number of them were CO19, with their trademark Heckler and Kochs. First
No, there are no noble causes. If you fight for something you believe in, innocent people will always get hurt, and even if you achieve whatever goal it is you’ve set yourself, it’ll always end up being a hollow victory, because everything comes at a price.
Cecil walked back to the car, giving the drunks a sideways look that temporarily silenced all of them, and got back inside.
‘There’s someone who wants to meet you.’
And that was when I knew I was in.
Eleven
10.26
THE MAN WAS parked in a deserted stretch of woodland bordering a golf course just inside the M25 when he got off the phone to Cecil. He had an iPad on his lap and was watching Sky News as they continued their frenetic coverage of the coffee shop bomb attack. So far, actual hard news was scarce; they were relying on eyewitness reports and continued footage of the scene from the Sky News Copter. The fire in the café was now out, but the street was still full of emergency vehicles. According to the rolling newsreel on the bottom of the screen six people had so far been confirmed dead, with more than thirty wounded, but the death toll was expected to rise. There were also unconfirmed reports that a previously unknown terror group had claimed responsibility, that the bomber himself had fled the café before the explosion, and that he’d been arrested.
This last rumour concerned him. They’d used Akhtar Mohammed so that the attack could be blamed on Islamic fundamentalists. If it was revealed that he’d been blackmailed into delivering the bomb, then their plan fell to pieces. Worse still, Mohammed would be able to identify Martha Crossman as the intended target.
There was nothing he could do about this now, though, so he sat patiently, staring at the iPad’s screen, waiting for the signal to go to the next stage.
Sure enough, a little over five minutes later it finally came as the anchorwoman interrupted her interview with the Sky security correspondent to announce further breaking news. Viewers had been calling the newsroom to report that large numbers of armed police had surrounded a block of flats in Bayswater, barely a couple of miles from where the coffee shop bomb had exploded, and were in the process of evacuating the surrounding area. A minute after that the security correspondent announced live on air that he’d received confirmation from a source at New Scotland Yard that an ongoing armed operation was underway.
This was the amazing thing about modern life, thought the man. The speed with which news travelled was almost instantaneous. There were plenty of positives in this. It meant citizens were generally kept well informed. It made it difficult for dictatorships to hide their guilty secrets. Unfortunately, it also allowed the bad guys to monitor the progress of the security forces highly effectively.
The screen had switched back to the Sky News Copter which was now circling above the block of flats where he’d shot dead Mika and booby-trapped her body over two hours earlier. Dozens of black-clad police were moving like ants round the front of the building as they formed a cordon around it and evacuated residents from the surrounding flats. Clearly they’d traced the mobile phone he’d used to make the call claiming responsibility for the café bomb, as he’d anticipated. Of course, they wouldn’t be reckless and go storming in, even though he could see that a number of them were CO19, with their trademark Heckler and Kochs. First
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