First Response

TAVISTOCK SQUARE (6.15 p.m.)

The coach parked across the road and its door opened. Kashif Talpur’s phone buzzed and he took it out of his waistpack. ‘You are to leave the bus, brother,’ said Shahid.

‘I’m not your brother,’ snarled Talpur.

‘Just do as you’re told. This will soon be over,’ said Shahid.

‘I want to leave the woman behind,’ said Talpur. ‘She’s a pain in the arse.’

‘You are to take the hostage on to the coach. She will be released at the airport.’

‘What’s happened to the ISIS prisoners?’

‘They’re already at the airport,’ said Shahid. ‘Now move over to the coach. You know what will happen if you do not comply.’

The line went dead and Talpur cursed. He put the phone back into the waistpack. ‘Open the door,’ he said to the driver, then turned to address the passengers. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, I’m about to leave the bus. Please stay where you are until the police arrive. Do not, I repeat do not, attempt to leave the bus. There are a lot of armed police out there and I’d hate for them to shoot any of you by mistake.’

The door opened. ‘You have to come with me,’ Talpur said to the woman he was handcuffed to. She opened her mouth to protest but he pointed a warning finger at her. ‘Don’t even think about giving me a hard time,’ he said. ‘I’ve had a shitty twenty-four hours and I don’t want you making it worse.’

‘I’m a Muslim woman and you have no right to do this to me,’ she said.

‘It’s not about you being a Muslim,’ said Talpur. ‘You were just in the wrong place at the wrong time.’ He headed for the door and yanked the chain to get her to follow him.

More than a dozen armed police were covering him with their carbines. In the far corner of the square a cluster of emergency vehicles included a fire engine and two ambulances. Dozens of police officers in fluorescent jackets were holding back onlookers, most of whom were taking videos and photographs on their phones.

‘Kash, we need to talk to you!’ Talpur looked to his left. Mark Biddulph was standing behind two armed officers, wearing a bulletproof vest over his leather jacket.

‘Get the hell away from me,’ shouted Talpur.

‘If you’re being forced into this, we can help you.’

‘Seriously, Mark, you’re putting everyone’s life on the line by talking to me,’ Talpur yelled. He pulled at the chain to hurry the woman up. She cursed him in Arabic.

‘Just tell me what’s happening, Kash,’ shouted Biddulph. ‘Why are you doing this?’

Talpur ignored him and climbed onto the coach, pulling the woman after him. As she climbed up, Talpur looked over his shoulder and saw Biddulph staring at him, his brow furrowed. Talpur forced a smile, then mouthed, ‘I’m sorry.’

‘We haven’t got all day,’ growled the driver.

Talpur turned to him. The driver stared back impassively. ‘Sit down and be quick about it,’ he growled. ‘We’re on a deadline.’

Talpur looked down the coach. Six bombers and six hostages were watching him. He moved towards the seat directly behind the driver. ‘Not there,’ snapped the man. ‘Further back.’

Talpur headed towards the back of the coach as the driver closed the door. He told the woman to sit by the window at the back on the right-hand side, then sat next to her. ‘Why are you doing this?’ she hissed.

‘You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,’ said Talpur.