Siege

Fifty-nine

ARLEY FELT SICK. Events were now running completely out of her control, and the control of everyone else on the scene. Watching the hostage die onscreen had given her a terrible premonition of what might be happening right now to her children. She was dealing with people more ruthless than she’d ever come across before.

‘We don’t want anyone else dying, Wolf,’ Riz Mohammed was saying. ‘It will only hurt your cause.’

But Wolf was shouting down the phone. ‘Then turn the internet back on!’

‘I’ll do everything I can, I promise, but in the meantime, don’t hurt anyone else.’

‘You have five minutes. Five minutes, do you hear?’

‘And you’ll let us speak to Michael Prior?’

‘If you put the internet back on, yes.’

‘I’ll see what I can do. Give me ten minutes. Can you do that?’

‘OK. You have ten minutes. But after that, another hostage dies in full view of the world.’

The line went dead, and the incident room fell silent.

On the screen, Commissioner Phillips’ seat in his office was still empty, although Arley had heard from her immediate superior, AC Jacobs. He’d told her to stall the terrorists while Phillips talked to the Prime Minister about their next course of action. Jacobs had sounded shocked by what had happened with the hostage, as if he hadn’t expected the terrorists to carry out their threat. Everyone in the incident room had expected it, but maybe that was because they were right there at the scene, rather than over at Scotland Yard. And now that it had happened, Arley knew it meant the end of any possibility of a peaceful solution to the crisis.

Riz turned to Arley. ‘We’re going to have to give in and buy ourselves some time. He’s said we can speak to Prior so at least we’re making some kind of progress.’

‘I agree,’ said Arley. She took a deep breath, trying to hold things together.

‘For what it’s worth, you did the right thing earlier,’ said John Cheney. ‘With the hostage. There was nothing else you could have done.’

The others in the room murmured their agreement.

Arley nodded, acknowledging Cheney’s comments. Her face, she knew, said it all. She might have been doing everything she could to hide her torment, but there was no way she could disguise it completely. She was glad that he thought it was the dead hostage that was bothering her.

Say something. Speak to Phillips. Tell him what’s happening. Get him to look for Oliver and India. You’re running out of time.

She sat down as Phillips reappeared at his desk. He looked grim-faced and pale.

‘I’ve just been told by Silver that the lead terrorist has given permission for us to speak to Michael Prior,’ he said, addressing the room in formal businesslike tones. ‘Because of this, the Prime Minister has given permission to re-establish the internet connection inside the hotel with immediate effect. Like the rest of us, he doesn’t want to see any more needless loss of life.’

Arley flinched as relief, however temporary, flooded through her.

‘However, the PM also believes there’s now no alternative to a rescue mission to free the hostages. Responsibility for this has now officially been passed to the military. Arley, you and your colleagues need to continue doing everything you can to keep the terrorists from killing any more hostages, while the SAS plan the logistics of their operation.’

Arley nodded slowly, accepting the inevitable, conscious that the phone in her pocket was ringing. She pulled it out and saw Howard’s grinning face filling the screen, which meant only one thing.

Her family’s kidnappers were calling.