Tottenham, London
He stood across the road, and watched as the infidels drank and smoked and laughed outside the nightclub. Two men slipped into the adjacent alley and he thought they were about to do a drug deal. But to his surprise and then disgust, they engaged in a sexual act, rutting like two dogs, unconcerned that they were in full view of those walking along the main road. This blatant display of depravity removed the glimmer of doubt that he had tried so hard to suppress. He checked that his jacket was zipped up and stepped across the road. A young girl – surely she couldn't be more than fifteen – saw him come and her eyes lit up with interest. Many western women found him handsome and it had often been a source of great temptation, but he was proud of the fact that he had never succumbed to it. He reached her and she smiled widely at him. He could see her small breasts through her almost transparent blouse. Her pupils were dilated, he noted as she wiped a hand across her runny nose. So young, and already hooked on snorting cocaine. He looked around him – these were the people who wanted to tell his country how they should live. It was abhorrent. His gaze focussed on the girl as he unzipped his jacket, dark and intense, and her smile faltered as her drug-addled mind registered that something was not right.
"Tonight you will burn in hell," he said, and pulled the wire.
A safe distance down the street, two men were seated in a car, one holding a video camera. The explosion rocked the vehicle, and when the smoke had drifted off and they could see the carnage, the other spoke quietly.
"Make the call."
- 0 –
Across the city, Home Office
Harry leaned against the bar, a whisky in his hand, and watched as Ruth talked to a US diplomat. Tonight he was the Plus One, and he kept out of the way as she went about her business, more than happy to allow her her moment in the sun.
"She's proved to be quite brilliant at smoothing ruffled feathers," a voice said at his elbow, and he turned to find William Towers standing next to him, his eyes fixed on Ruth.
"I suppose she honed that skill over the many years she worked for you," he added cheekily with a sidelong glance at the man next to him.
Harry gave him a look before turning his attention back to Ruth.
"I think you'll find that Ruth can be brilliant at anything she puts her mind to," he responded, and wondered how much longer she would want to stay. She looked particularly lovely tonight, and he couldn't wait to take her home and undress her, and-
His phone vibrated, interrupting their conversation, and his heart sank when he saw it was a Red Flash.
"I have to take this," he informed the Home Secretary and headed for the hallway.
He had a brief conversation with Erin before he returned to Towers' side. The Home Secretary took one look at his set face and knew that the news would not be good.
"There was an explosion outside a Tottenham night club," he reported in a low voice. "Initial unconfirmed reports indicate a suicide bomber. Number of casualties not known yet."
Towers sighed. "Keep me up to date."
Harry nodded and headed across the room towards Ruth.
He gently touched her elbow and she turned to him, her surprise quickly changing to delight. It never ceased to warm him, this instinctive response to his presence.
"Forgive me," he said to the American. "I need to borrow her for a minute."
The man nodded, not entirely graciously. The Americans had still not forgiven Harry for his involvement in Jim Coaver's death and made sure that he knew it at every opportunity.
Harry steered Ruth to the side, his hand in the small of her back, and bent his head close to her ear.
"I have to go. Red Flash."
She looked at him, her eyes filled with concern as she wordlessly asked the reason.
"There was an explosion in Tottenham," he explained and kissed her cheek lightly. "Don't wait up – it's going to be a long night."
Ruth squeezed his arm in acknowledgement and watched him walk from the room. She enjoyed her new job, but some days, especially when Harry was working on some crisis or other, she missed being on the Grid and in the middle of it all. She missed that rush of adrenaline when she discovered a vital piece of information, and the camaraderie of people equally committed to the cause. With a suppressed sigh, she moved back to the US diplomat.
- 0 –
The Grid
Harry stepped through the doors and into a hive of activity. Various televisions were on as officers monitored news coverage of the event, whilst others were on the phone or typing furiously on their computers. He caught Erin's eye and she came over.
"CCTV footage confirms that it was a suicide bomber." She handed him a grainy image of the young man in his bulky jacket.
"ID?" Harry asked as he loosened his bowtie.
"Not yet," Calum said from his station. "I'm working on it."
"Work faster. Casualties?"
Dimitri joined them. "Five confirmed so far. That may go up once they've sorted through all the body parts."
"Okay. I'll ask the Home Secretary to raise the threat level - these things tend to come in waves. In the meantime I want every source and every other tree you can think of shaken until we know whether this was a once-off or the start of something bigger."
He strode off towards his office.
He was on the phone to Towers when Calum knocked against his glass wall and beckoned.
"I'll have to call you back," he said and promptly hung up.
Erin and Dimitri had already gathered around Calum, who looked up as Harry approached.
"We have a martyrdom video. I pulled it from the web as soon as I found it."
He clicked 'Play' and the man from the cctv footage appeared, standing before a black flag with white writing on it.
"That's an Al-Shabaab flag," Harry commented.
"We've suspected for some time that an Al-Shabaab cell may be operating among the émigré community in Tottenham," Erin said, and studied the man's earnest face.
"Good looking," she remarked.
"Not any more," Calum interjected just as the man began to speak in Arabic.
Harry half expected Ruth to appear at his elbow to translate, but of course she was no longer a member of his team. They still felt her absence in times like these, and Harry in particular dearly missed her uncanny ability to anticipate what he needed and to provide it before he even had to ask.
"Get the translator onto it, Calum," he snapped and stalked back to his office.
"What's his problem?" the techie asked.
"Could have something to do with the fact that none of us speak Arabic," Erin said drily.
Calum snorted. "Or the fact that none of us are a tiny former analyst called Ruth, more likely."
- 0 –
Upminster, London
BNP Headquarters
Daniel Simms sat in front of the television, a bottle of whisky at his elbow. He sneered as the young female reporter breathlessly informed the viewers that an eyewitness had said that the suicide bomber had 'appeared to be of Middle Eastern descent'.
"Of course he was a bloody Arab," he shouted, shaking his head at her lame attempt at political correctness.
One of his men stuck his head around the door. "Dan, you have to come and see this."
He followed the man to the outer office, where a bunch of party members were clustered around one of the computers.
"We received this a few moments ago – from a 'concerned citizen'."
It was video footage of the bombing. The young man's face was clearly visible as he crossed the street and glanced towards the camera. Moments later there was a bright flash, followed by distressing images of the debris-strewn street, filled with dead and injured people. It was followed by the bomber's martyrdom video, on which English subtitles had helpfully been provided. He spouted the usual story about the depravity of the west and how they were defiling his religion and countries in the Middle East with their presence in these holy places. The last frame was a black screen with the following in white print:
Are we going to allow these foreigners to continue killing our people, or is your party man enough to do something about it? If you are, call this number: 07958 348613
Dan stared at the challenge as a muscle in his jaw twitched. The party's support had dwindled in recent times, but this event could be the catalyst to turn around that trend. And he, Dan Simms, would be the man to step forward and take the lead.
"Someone hand me a phone," he said.
- 0 –
Home Office, London
Ruth was across the room as Towers' secretary came in and whispered something in his ear. It could only have to do with the bombing and she fervently hoped to be included in any discussion. She waited for him to catch her eye and summon her, but he turned and left without looking in her direction. It was a huge disappointment, and it was with a decided lack of enthusiasm that she turned back to her social duties.
- 0 –
Harry stood as the Home Secretary walked in.
"Where's Ruth?" he asked, surprised when no one followed Towers into the office.
"She has other duties to fulfil," Towers said dismissively. "So what have we got?"
Harry paused. "We might need her on this," he persisted.
Towers frowned, irritated. "I will use my staff as I see fit," he stated pointedly. "I don't tell you how to do your job. Now what have we got?" he asked, ignoring Harry's incredulously raised eyebrow.
Harry updated him on developments and ended by suggesting, "I advise that we raise the threat level, Home Secretary."
Towers leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling thoughtfully.
"Are we sure this man is a member of Al Shabaab?"
"The martyrdom video is compelling evidence – few men would be willing to kill themselves for a cause they don't believe in."
"Eh, but still. I'd like to see definitive evidence."
Harry curbed his impatience. "It's not as though terrorist organisations keep a membership list handy for us to peruse."
Towers rolled his eyes. "Don't be a smart-arse, Harry. I don't think it an unreasonable request to ask for more evidence that we are, in fact, facing the beginning of a sustained terror campaign by this organisation, rather than the vengeance of a lone wolf, before I raise the threat level. Do I take it that you don't have a source inside this organisation?"
This time Harry didn't bother to hide his disdain. "We do not have a source inside Al Shabaab, Home Secretary, because you specifically ordered me 'not to spy on the immigrant communities'."
Towers pretended not to hear. "It's important that we don't allow these terrorists to foment fear any more than necessary, Harry-"
"It's also important that we protect our citizens, which we will be better able to do with a higher threat level," Harry interrupted.
Towers gave him a long-suffering look and sighed deeply after a few seconds.
"The PM won't authorise it, all right? He's keen to show the world that we are no longer the Americans' lackey, and that means having a less draconian approach in dealing with terrorism."
Harry rubbed a hand wearily across his eyes and stood. "If he's so keen to loosen us from Uncle Sam's skirts, why doesn't he withdraw our troops from Afghanistan?" he said tartly. As he walked out he added, "Don't waste Ruth's talents, Home Secretary. You will regret it. And so, probably, will the country."
Towers watched him close the door firmly behind him. He stared at it bleakly for a few moments.
"Oh, bother," he grumbled, and punched the intercom button to his secretary viciously.
"Will you ask Ruth Evershed to come to my office?" he requested, and leaned back, deep in thought.
- 0 –
The Grid
Harry got back to the office in a foul mood. He beckoned to Erin and explained as he hung up his coat, "The Home Secretary won't ask the PM to increase the threat level. Apparently not doing so demonstrates a newfound independence from the Americans. Don't ask me how."
"Well, this might change his mind," Erin said, and turned on the monitor on his desk. Sky News was on, and a man they were all too familiar with filled the screen. Daniel Simms stared confidently into the camera as he spoke.
"The BNP has evidence that this attack was perpetrated by an Arab man. This man, an immigrant, has lived among us, taken a job that one of our young men could have filled, sponged on our health care and enjoyed our standard of living, even whilst he despised us and our way of life. How many more of them are lurking amongst us – people who will turn on us at the first opportunity? Well I say: no more. We will not stand for this. And if the government is too pathetic to deal with these people, we will do it ourselves – we will take back our country!"
Harry punched the off button and threw the remote onto his desk with a clatter.
"That's all we bloody need."
- 0 –
Two hours later
The two teenagers walked out of their madras, laughing about a joke. They turned down the street and strolled towards the local grocery store. They did not see the group of men that tracked their progress from across the street. A man in a dark jacket stopped them and politely asked for directions to the nearest ATM, which they helpfully provided. They did hear the sound of running feet behind them, but by then it was too late.
tbc