Red Notice

64

Like the holding area, COBRA was in waiting mode. Someone had suggested that police officers could move into the tunnel and try to establish communications. Alderson had managed to shoot that one down in flames. He’d explained that without tactical support from Hereford to deal with the situation if it went wrong — which was massively likely — it could bring about more civilian deaths.

Sarah Garvey looked at the screen that monitored the progress of the teams to Folkestone, using the same feed as the holding area. ‘Mr Alderson, how long now?’

‘Ten minutes, Home Secretary.’

Her eyes were still fixed on the two fast-moving clusters of call-signs. ‘I want to know what’s happening in that bloody tunnel. I want to know if this lunatic has killed any more passengers, and precisely what those explosions were. Can we not get the CCTV back online? Surely there must be something we can do…’

‘If I may, Home Secretary…?’ Clements leaned forward and lowered his voice to a confidential murmur in a crude effort to conceal from Brookdale what he was about to say. ‘We could simply agree to Antonov’s financial demands, and his request for safe passage.’

‘You’re not serious?’ The home secretary’s confusion was clear for all to see. One minute he wanted Antonov dead, the next… ‘You’re suggesting we let him go free? Over my dead body. We’d be a global laughing stock. And so would our long-held policy of zero negotiation.’

Clements lifted a hand. ‘I don’t mean that we actually let him escape. I mean we placate him by apparently giving in to his demands, but only up to the point when the SAS can enter the tunnel or do whatever they need to do to kill him and put this matter to rest.’

Drawn to Clements’s lowered voice, like a vulture to road-kill, Brookdale intervened: ‘Surely it would be wiser to take our time and negotiate a surrender. Keep this the responsibility of the police and MI5. The military option bothers me, and particularly the possibility of it going wrong. What about casualties? I don’t care about the military, of course — that’s what they’re there for. It’s the collateral damage that will impact badly on the government.’

Both Sarah and Clements knew who he really meant.

Brookdale tried to manoeuvre between them. ‘Sarah, the net immigration figures should be published tomorrow. If you recall, we thought we’d smuggle them out on a Friday afternoon once everyone had returned to their constituencies, but I recommended we pull publication after yesterday’s cock-up.

‘I thought it would be best to wait and see where Antonov cropped up next before breaking the news. The numbers do show a most unwelcome increase, and if they were to be announced alongside the revelation that a dangerous foreign terrorist had both entered and left the United Kingdom without being intercepted by our security forces…’ he paused, enjoying the limelight ‘… well, the opposition wouldn’t be slow to link the two things in a way that would be politically very damaging. They’re already sniffing around, so we need to keep this situation under what control we can. No heroics, no Men in Black and things that go bang. That will do the government a great deal of harm. Negotiated settlement, lots of saved civilians, does us all a power of good.’

His eyes still fixed on Sarah Garvey, Clements shook his head. ‘With respect, Home Secretary, that is not a realistic option. Antonov will never surrender, and you’ll have a situation on your hands that is exactly the opposite of what government wants.’

He treated Brookdale to a full measure of his disdain. His message was simple: he should be leaving this to the grown-ups. ‘Young man, Antonov — and whoever he has down there with him — is a different breed, a world away from what you have ever dealt with. He doesn’t care who won The X Factor, or which celebrity is shagging her brother-in-law. He has never tasted sun-dried tomatoes on focaccia. In short, you know nothing, so I suggest you say nothing.’

He turned back to the person who mattered. ‘Home Secretary, no matter what we think of Antonov, we must understand him. He will not surrender so, as I keep suggesting, it would be cleaner if he were killed. If he’s cornered, he won’t hesitate to take as many people with him as he can. And he may well have enough explosives down there to take down the tunnel as well. Just think of the financial implications, quite aside from the PR own goal.

‘Let’s get him out of that tunnel and kill him at the first available opportunity, and live with whatever collateral damage we have to.’

‘That’s easy for you to suggest, Mr Clements. Any more collateral damage might include my political future.’

Back on familiar ground, Brookdale waited one beat too long before jumping in: ‘And that of this government.’

Clements ignored him — he was just background noise. ‘Then with respect, Home Secretary, that’s all the more reason to act decisively now. As soon as we have regained communications, let us bring him out into the open and settle this quickly.’

She gave him a baleful stare, then glanced at Brookdale. But the head of communications had suddenly developed shoulders like a Coca-Cola bottle. This would have nothing to do with him. Unless, of course, it was a success.