First Response

BIGGIN HILL AIRPORT (7.14 p.m.)

Jim Hawkins kept his MP5 trained on the face of the man standing in the aisle. His finger was tense on the trigger and the slightest increase in pressure would put a slug virtually instantaneously into the man’s skull. ‘Drop the trigger,’ he said.

‘I can’t,’ said the man. ‘It’s held in place with the Velcro strap. I couldn’t drop it if I wanted to.’

‘What do you want?’ asked Hawkins.

‘I want off this fucking coach,’ said the man. ‘We all do. Listen to me, I’m a cop. My name is Kashif Talpur. We are all here under duress. We can’t detonate these vests. They can only be detonated by remote control. You need to get them off us.’

Hawkins frowned. He looked over at McMullen. ‘What do you think, Terry?’

‘I think if they were going to detonate, they already would have.’

‘He’s telling the truth,’ said the Asian man standing by the priest. ‘This is not our doing.’

All the men wearing the vests began to talk at once, proclaiming their innocence and pleading to be allowed off the coach.

‘Shut the fuck up!’ shouted Hawkins. ‘Sit down, shut up, and put your hands on your heads.’