Cell

9

Inside the huge barn next to Oldhurst Farm in Berkshire the third milk wagon had eased its way inside. The English driver stepped down from his cab. He flexed his fingers, stiff with driving the large vehicle. He walked over to the leader he knew as Adam, who stood on a large sheet of canvas spread out over the floor.

'OK, mate. Another load of drugs delivered. What is it? Cocaine? And I'll take that two thousand quid you're holding in your paw.'

He was aware there were other men behind him but his eyes were on the fat wad of banknotes Adam was holding.

Adam was a small man, neatly dressed in English clothes. His skin was brownish, a tan from spending several months in the Seychelles. He spoke perfect English.

'By the mercy of Allah you have done well,' the little man said with a twisted smile.

'Allah!' The driver was appalled. 'You're a bunch of flaming Arabs. You…'

It was the last word he ever spoke, as a man behind him drove a wide-bladed knife into his back between the ribs. He twisted the knife, withdrew it, stabbed again and again as the driver, already dead, slumped on to the canvas.

No need to issue any orders. Several men with dark complexions stripped his clothes of all identification. They wrapped the corpse inside the canvas, rolled it up, then secured it with heavy chains. Three of them carried the rolled canvas out of a back door and across a field. It was dumped into a large septic tank, where it sank to join the two other bodies of English drivers dumped earlier.

Inside the barn other Arabs dressed in English clothes had already unrolled another large sheet of canvas, ready for when the fourth English driver arrived with his milk wagon. 'Abdullah' had planned very carefully.

The neat little man, Adam, whose real name was Ali, now gave fresh orders. The milk wagon was opened and an exceptionally strong Arab was lowered inside on a rope ladder. Equipped with gloves, he felt round below the surface, located the hook, then the cable wrapped round the container resting at the bottom of the wagon. It took him all his strength to haul up the container, its wrappings dripping milk.

He hauled it over the side where other hands waited to grasp it and laid it on the ground. The bloodstained knife which had murdered the English driver was used to cut through the layers of wrapping, exposing a metal container. At this point Ali took over.

Unlocking a huge padlock, he lifted the lid. He warned his helpers in savage language to be careful. A curiously shaped weapon was gently laid on the floor. Perched on a strong-legged base was a huge shell-shaped object, the warhead already in position in its nose.

Ali repeated for the umpteenth time the instructions he had given earlier.

'It is harmless now. When it reaches its destination, with the weapons in their different positions, I will give the order to press the orange button. Then the weapon is active, but still harmless.' He pointed, at the button. 'At the moment when the stupendous attack is launched you press the red button.' He pointed to another button embedded in a shallow hole. 'Then London is devastated, praise be to Allah.'

None of the Arabs listening had any idea of the destination the weapons would be taken to. The master planner had hired the drivers of the milk wagons by contacting men on the verge of release from prison for comparatively non-violent offences. They had been told they would, for the sum of two thousand pounds, have to drive certain vehicles transporting drugs.

They had also been told the original drivers of the milk wagons would be tied up when a truck, slewed across a quiet road, stopped them. What Ali had not told them was that the original drivers would have their throats slit, their bodies weighted and cast into convenient marshes en route. The master planner had also anticipated that in due course the companies owning the milk wagons would report their disappearance. But who would see anything sinister in the hijacking of five milk wagons?

Certainly not the police – or not until havoc had been created in London and thousands of bodies had been blown to bits.