Read First Response for Free Online Page A

incident, providing resources, analysing intelligence and co-ordinating communications. Kamran understood the necessity of taking decisions centrally but he was only a superintendent, and if anything went wrong, shit had a habit of rolling downhill.
    ‘I know it’s a lot of responsibility,’ said the deputy commissioner, as if sensing Kamran’s unease. ‘Just bear with me for an hour or so. I’m going to fix up an SO15 senior officer to take over there.’
    ‘No problem, sir,’ said Kamran. SO15 was Counter-terrorism Command, the anti-terrorism squad formed in 2006 by merging the Anti-terrorist Branch with Special Branch.
    ‘Have the negotiators gone in yet?’
    ‘Not yet, sir. We’ve got four locations and we’re getting phone numbers as we speak. As soon as we’ve established communications we’ll have a better idea of what’s going on.’
    ‘Twitter’s on fire, as I’m sure you know.’
    ‘We’re monitoring it for intel.’
    ‘Well, it sounds as if you’ve got everything under control,’ said the deputy commissioner.
    Kamran smiled to himself. He might well have given that impression, but it wasn’t exactly how he felt. Things were changing so quickly that he was close to losing any grip that he had on the situation. He felt like a juggler with too many balls in the air and more threatening to join them at any moment. One lapse of concentration and he might end up dropping them all. But that wasn’t something he could ever admit to the deputy commissioner, or to the men and women in the special operations room. ‘Yes, sir, we’re on top of it,’ he said.

MARYLEBONE HIGH STREET (11.52 a.m.)
    Faisal Chaudhry sat and stared at the card in his hands, reading the typewritten words for the third time, unable to get his head around what he was being asked to do. Each time he thought about the consequences of the suicide vest going off he felt so light-headed he feared he would pass out.
    He jumped as a hand fell on his shoulder. Shahid was behind him. ‘It is time,’ he said.
    ‘Brother, this is a mistake,’ said Chaudhry.
    ‘Just do as you’re told and everything will be all right,’ said Shahid.
    ‘Brother, I am in Al-Qaeda. I am one of the chosen ones. I have been trained in Pakistan. I was trained in explosives and guns and everything. I’m one of you, brother. I want to kill the infidel, too. But not like this, brother. This is not what I was trained for. I’m a jihadist. I’m a fighter. Give me a gun, give me a knife, and I’ll kill with a happy heart. But I can’t blow myself up, brother. I can’t.’
    ‘This is how you will best serve Allah, brother,’ said Shahid, patting him on the shoulder. ‘Follow your instructions and six of our brothers will be released. You will leave the country with them and your actions will be a beacon for jihadists all over the world. Now, go and serve Allah.’
    The fight went out of Chaudhry. He nodded.
    Shahid opened the door. ‘
Allahu Akbar
.’
    ‘
Allahu Akbar
,’ mumbled Chaudhry, as he shuffled towards the door. He climbed out and the door slammed. He walked away and didn’t look back.

MARYLEBONE (11.55 a.m.)
    The midday rush wasn’t far away, thought Kenny Watts, as he looked at the wall-mounted clock. Once it started he’d be rushed off his feet so he figured he had better pop out for a cigarette now rather than try to grab a break later. He caught Bonnie’s eye and gestured at the door. ‘Just popping out for a fag,’ he said.
    ‘Have one for me,’ she said, bending down to fill the glass-washer. Two men in suits came up to the bar, one waving a twenty-pound note. ‘Get them first, will you?’ she asked.
    ‘Sure,’ said Kenny, thrusting his pack of cigarettes back into his back pocket. ‘What can I get you, gents?’
    ‘Two pints of Speckled Hen,’ said the guy with the money. ‘Straight glasses.’
    Kenny was pulling the second pint when another customer came in. He grimaced, wondering if he’d lost the opportunity