First Response

RAF BIGGIN HILL (7.22 p.m.)

Inspector Adams drove from the hangar to RAF Biggin Hill in less than two minutes, his heart racing. The base was on the western side of the airport, to the south of the passenger terminal. It was the headquarters of 2427 Squadron of the Air Training Corps and there was a brick-built chapel, with a remembrance garden, to commemorate all the airmen who had lost their lives flying out of Biggin Hill during the Battle of Britain. Two full-size replicas of a Hurricane and a Spitfire stood guard at the entrance to the base and Adams drove between them, turned left in front of the chapel and parked in front of a two-storey featureless administration block. The prison van was at the side of the building with half a dozen armed police officers standing around it. Off to the left were the police motorcyclists who had escorted the van from Belmarsh. High overhead a police helicopter hovered, ever watchful.

Adams walked over to an SCO19 sergeant. ‘Everything okay?’ he asked.

‘All good,’ said the sergeant. ‘Any idea what’s happening?’

‘The bombers are in custody. No shots fired, no one hurt,’ said Adams.

The sergeant looked almost disappointed. ‘It’s over?’

‘Pretty much,’ said Adams. ‘But I have to check that your prisoners are all accounted for.’

‘No question,’ said the sergeant. ‘The doors haven’t been opened since we left Belmarsh.’

‘I’m under orders to see for myself,’ said Adams.

Adams went to the van. A prison officer in white shirt and black trousers climbed out of the front and Adams asked him to unlock the back door. The door opened into a small metal corridor with four doors on each side. The prison officer climbed up and took a bunch of keys hanging from a chain attached to his belt. He unlocked the first door on the right and pulled it open so that Adams could look inside. It was a small cubicle, all white metal, with a small bench seat on which sat a bearded Asian man. He scowled up at Adams. ‘Am I to be freed?’ he asked.

‘Not on my watch,’ growled Adams, and nodded for the prison officer to relock the door.

The officer opened another five doors. Each cubicle was occupied.

‘Satisfied, sir?’ asked the sergeant, as Adams climbed out of the back of the van.

‘Satisfied, but as confused as hell.’