Cell

7

'Is that Ali?' asked the voice on the phone.

Spoken in English, it was impossible to tell whether the caller was a man or a woman. The use of a voice-distorter made the speaker impossible to identify.

'It is Ali from Finsbury Park,' the man inside the public phone-box replied.

'Abdullah speaking. Is the consignment on its way. All five of the transporters.'

'They are coming. On schedule. They arrive at their destination at eight o'clock tonight.'

'I will call again, using the other number you gave, at seven.. .'

Ali left the phone-box quickly. Located in a carefully chosen quiet area of London, it was rarely used, a fact confirmed by constant observation.

The transporters referred to were milk wagons, each driving south on a different road, the route they used every day at this time. Innocent enough cargoes, on this occasion they carried more than milk.

At the bottom of each load was a larger container, swathed thickly in waterproof cloth. There was also a thick cable wrapped round the container very securely. The end of the cable had a handle attached to a strong hook concealed just below the surface of the milk at the rear of the vehicle.

Later, arriving at a farm with a large barn, purchased weeks before, they would drive in. Once inside the barn the wagon would be opened, a gloved hand would feel for the handle, grasp it, hauling the metal container to the surface. Inside the barn it would be transferred to a small van with the words Fresh Fruit inscribed on its outer bodywork. All five vans, refrigerated, had also been purchased weeks before. To bolster the supplier's confidence, a cheque on a London bank had been paid in advance. It was the supplier's understanding that a new company was entering the business of providing fruit to larger supermarkets at highly competitive prices.

The organizer of the operation, who used the name Abdullah, was confident that if the milk wagons were found, eventually, it would be too late. The spectacular and catastrophic attack would have occurred. Abdullah had no doubt the casualties would run into thousands, the dead casualties.

Inside each concealed container was a new weapon, the warhead armed with an explosive of devastating power.