First Response

LAMBETH CENTRAL COMMUNICATIONS COMMAND CENTRE (12.05 p.m.)

Joe Lumley twisted in his seat and waved his hand to get Kamran’s attention. ‘Lisa Elphick from the press office wants to know if you can spare her a minute or two.’ He pointed to the large viewing window at the far end of the special operations room. A blonde woman in her mid-thirties in a black blazer and white skirt was standing there. She gave Kamran a small wave when he saw her. He grinned and beckoned her in. She walked quickly over to the Gold Command suite and air-kissed him on both cheeks. Kamran had worked with the chief press officer on several occasions and always admired her professionalism and no-nonsense approach. She was totally trustworthy, which was a breath of fresh air in an organisation where the key to climbing the greasy pole of promotion depended, more often than not, on stabbing someone else in the back. ‘Busy day, I gather,’ she said.

‘You always were a master of understatement,’ he said.

‘How many now?’

‘Five,’ said Kamran.

‘Twitter’s gone into meltdown,’ she said. ‘We’re getting copied into a lot of it so our feed is being overwhelmed. They’re letting their hostages tweet, which is a first.’

‘A first here, maybe, but it happened during that ISIS attack in Paris. It helps to spread the word.’

‘Hashtag ISIS6 is what they’re using now. Some of the hostages are even posting selfies.’

Kamran looked over at Lumley. ‘Let’s get that checked, Joe,’ he said. ‘See if there are any decent pictures we can use.’ He sat down and smiled at Elphick. ‘So, how can I help you, Lisa?’

‘We’ve had a request from the media, obviously. They want a pool journo in the SOR. Ideally one TV crew and one print.’

Kamran shook his head. ‘No can do,’ he said.

‘I thought as much, but I had to ask.’

‘There’s too much operational stuff on the screens,’ said Kamran. ‘And too much info being shouted about.’

‘I already explained that,’ she said. ‘I said that afterwards, when it’s been resolved, we can give them a press conference here and show them around but that’s it.’

‘That would certainly be doable,’ said Kamran.

‘I’ve had requests for interviews with Bomb Squad and firearms spokespeople but I’ve explained that we’re swamped,’ said the press officer. ‘At the moment they’re getting most of their info from social media. I thought it might be helpful if I put a couple of press officers here full time and they can feed information out. Information that you want out there, obviously.’

‘That sounds like a plan. But I’d prefer them to run everything through Sergeant Lumley, just to be on the safe side. There’s a lot of operation information that we don’t want out there.’

‘I’ll make sure that happens,’ said Elphick. ‘Now, in terms of talking to the TV, do you want to do that?’

‘I won’t have time, Lisa. Can’t the deputy commissioner do it?’

‘I think he’s trying to distance himself from the operational side,’ she said.

‘In case the shit hits the fan?’ Kamran grinned. ‘Can’t blame him, can you? Did he put my name in the frame?’

‘He said the best spokesman would be someone involved directly.’

‘To be honest, I might be running the SOR but I think the spokesman needs to be at a higher level.’

‘It really is a poisoned chalice, isn’t it?’

‘Unless it gets resolved, in which case they’ll all be falling over themselves to talk to the press. Why don’t you step up, Lisa? You know how to handle journalists.’

‘They want someone in uniform,’ she said.

Lumley looked up from his screens. ‘We’ve managed to get a live feed from inside the shopping centre,’ he said. ‘From inside the actual shop.’

Kamran stood up. ‘Duty calls,’ he said. ‘Sorry.’

‘I’ll send a couple of press officers over,’ she said. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll make sure they keep out of your way. And let me know if you change your mind about going on TV.’

Elphick waved, and as she left Kamran went over to Lumley’s desk and peered over his shoulder. There was a black and white CCTV image of a young Asian man handcuffed to an even younger girl. Half a dozen women of various ages were huddled in a corner. Kamran couldn’t tell if they were staff or shoppers. The quality wasn’t great but it was good enough to see what was going on. The man was holding something in his right hand. The trigger to the explosives, presumably. He was shouting something at the women. Several of them were holding their mobile phones.

‘How are we getting this?’ asked Kamran.

‘The videos in the stores all feed through to a central control room, mainly so they can watch out for shoplifters,’ said Lumley. ‘After Seven/Seven we started talking to all the centre owners about direct video feeds, and most of them now have it in place.’

‘No sound, though?’

‘Unfortunately not.’ He gestured at the screen. ‘Their tweets are starting to come through now, all with the hashtag ISIS6.’

‘Who’s Silver Commander there?’

Lumley looked at his notepad. ‘Inspector Ross Edwards.’

‘Can you get him for me?’ Kamran went back to his desk to get his coffee but realised the mug was empty.

Inspector Adams rushed into the suite. ‘There’s been another, sir. An ARV’s on the way. A pub in Marylebone. The Grapes.’

‘How many hostages?’ asked Kamran.

‘We don’t know for sure. But a pub at lunchtime. Dozens, maybe.’

Kamran sighed. ‘Okay. As soon as you’ve found out who the Silver Commander is at the pub scene, let me know. In the meantime make sure Fire Brigade and Ambulance know what’s going on and where they’re needed. And we’re going to need one of TfL’s traffic experts in here. All those road closures are going to play havoc with the traffic flow.’

‘I’ve had Transport for London on twice now asking if they should close the Tube down.’

‘That’s not our call,’ said Kamran.

‘That’s what I said and suggested they call the mayor’s office. They did and the mayor passed them back to us.’

Kamran’s brow furrowed. It looked as if no one wanted to make a decision, which during a crisis tended to be par for the course. No one was ever punished for indecisiveness but plenty of careers had been ended by a wrong decision taken in the heat of the moment. ‘I’ll talk to him,’ he said.

Adams smiled his thanks and left. Lumley stood up. ‘Inspector Edwards is holding on line two.’

‘Thanks, Joe. Do me a favour and get me a coffee, and as soon as I’m done with Inspector Edwards, see if you can put me through to the mayor.’

Kamran picked up the phone and sat down. ‘Ross, long time no see. How’s the wife?’

‘All good, Mo. The chemotherapy’s taking its toll but the doctors are pleased with her progress.’

Kamran had been Edwards’s sergeant at Savile Row police station almost a decade earlier and the two men had always got on well together. Their paths had continued to cross, and a few months earlier they’d had a catch-up drink during which Edwards had revealed that his wife had been diagnosed with breast cancer. ‘Give her my love, please.’

‘I will, Mo. Thanks.’

‘So how are things there?’

‘We’ve one ARV and we’re waiting for more. The floors have been cleared and within the next five minutes or so we should have the whole centre to ourselves. I’m waiting for a negotiating team and until they arrive we’re keeping our distance.’

‘We’re getting a live feed from the video in the shop. Are you seeing it?’

‘I’m in the security centre now. So yes.’

‘Looks to me as if there’s only the one way in and out.’

‘That’s right, there’s no back entrance to the shops.’

‘Are you planning on a face-to-face negotiation?’

‘I was going to leave that up to the experts, Mo. There’s a phone in the shop we can use. Just be aware there’s a lot of glass around. If he does detonate it’ll cause mayhem.’

‘Okay, we’ll be watching on the video feed but keep us posted.’

‘How many others are there?’

‘Five plus you. The first was in Brixton, then the Southside shopping centre, followed by Fulham, Kensington and Marble Arch. And I’ve just been told about a pub in Marylebone.’

‘This is a fucking nightmare, isn’t it?’ said Edwards.

‘You said it.’