First Response

MARBLE ARCH (12.53 p.m.)

Inspector Richard Horton, a twenty-five-year veteran of the Metropolitan Police, had been appointed as Silver Commander at the Marble Arch incident. He was based at Paddington Green station, less than half a mile away down Edgware Road, and had arrived outside the coffee shop within six minutes of getting the call. It wasn’t his first major incident by any means. In 1994 he had been a beat constable when a car bomb had exploded outside the Israeli embassy in London, injuring twenty people. He had been a sergeant in April 1999 when a neo-Nazi with mental problems carried out nail-bomb attacks in Soho, Brixton and Brick Lane. And he was still a sergeant on duty on 7 July 2005 when four suicide bombers had attacked the capital, and two weeks later when four copycats had tried and failed to bring havoc to London’s transport system.

He had been an inspector since 2010 and had taken part in several major incident rehearsals and had hit the ground running at Marble Arch. The role of Silver Commander was basically to take charge of the scene and to implement the strategies of the Gold Commander. It was clear from the speed of events that the Gold Commander had yet to have any strategy in place — everyone was simply reacting to events. Horton’s first tasks had been to manage the scene and establish the necessary cordons. They had to be set up promptly to protect the public, keep onlookers away and to ensure that the emergency services had the access they needed. He already had sixteen constables and had requested more. They had set up inner and outer cordons around the coffee shop, and a traffic cordon to prevent unauthorised vehicle access to the scene. As the coffee shop was close to one of the busiest intersections in London, where Edgware Road met Bayswater Road, the closures had already caused traffic chaos. Two ARVs were on the scene, with two SAS snipers, who were wearing borrowed police clothing. Horton wasn’t happy about having special-forces soldiers mixed in with his armed-response teams, but that had come down from Gold Command so he had no choice in the matter.

A marshalling area had been set up at the junction of Edgware Road and Bayswater Road where most of the emergency vehicles were parked. Horton walked towards a new arrival at the scene — a white DAF truck with only police markings on it. If necessary, magnetic signs could be reversed to reveal the van’s bomb-disposal role but generally it stayed in covert mode so as not to alarm the public and to avoid becoming a target for attack.

A dark-haired woman was getting into an ABS — an advanced bomb suit — assisted by an older man in a fluorescent jacket. He was helping her into the crotchless Kevlar trousers that would protect her legs. Horton greeted her with a smile. ‘Richard Horton,’ he said. ‘I’m Silver here.’

‘Charlie,’ said the woman. ‘Charlie Kawczynski.’ She nodded at her companion. ‘Peter here’s my dresser.’

‘You don’t sound Polish,’ said Horton.

‘Neither does my husband,’ said Kawczynski. ‘But he was born here, too.’

‘Sorry, no offence.’

Kawczynski grinned. ‘None taken.’

Peter helped her on with the Kevlar jacket. It would protect her chest and groin but it left her forearms and hands exposed. She would be free to work on any devices but would lose her hands and arms in the event of an explosion. Horton tried to blot the image out of his mind as he explained what he needed her to do.

‘The problem we have, Charlie, is that we can’t see inside the coffee shop and there’s no CCTV we can access. He’s covered the windows with newspaper so we can’t see what’s going on inside. I need you to go to the window and see if you can spot anything. Ideally get us some pictures we can analyse.’

‘Got you,’ said Kawczynski.

‘No need to make contact,’ said Horton. ‘Just see what you can and pull back.’

‘Not a problem. We’ve got a camera in the truck,’ said Kawczynski.

They finished fastening the jacket and Peter began putting the ballistic panels in place. He worked slowly and methodically, checking and double-checking that everything was as it should be. If anything went wrong and the device exploded, the suit was the only thing that would save her from certain death.