Red Notice (27 page)

‘They now control the passenger train, with about four hundred Yankees on board – including Tom’s girlfriend, Delphine. She was leaving Tom. He tried to get her back. That’s why he was a passenger.’

One of the whiteboards behind him had been decorated with a series of crude rectangles, each representing a carriage and identifying the call-sign responsible for hitting it. Gavin pointed with his felt tip. ‘The Yankees have been corralled in the first three carriages behind the engine and lined up against the windows, face out.’

He tapped the front rectangle and then the two behind. ‘X-ray One has been seen negotiating in the driver’s cab, and moving about in those first three carriages.

‘The X-rays have suppressed 9mm sub-machine-guns, and two PKMs mounted front and rear of the target train. They also have NVGs and Tom has seen oxygen sets. We will not be using gas, but they might be.’

There was another brief murmur in the crowd. Gas was a good compliance weapon, but in a confined environment, such as the tunnel, quite a few Yankees might comply too vigorously. The oldest among them would simply fall down and die.

‘So far, there has been machine-gun fire and explosive entry. They have come prepared – for what, we don’t yet know. This situation hasn’t come about because X-ray One was pinged by Tom as he tried to escape. This situation was pre-planned. It would have been executed even if Tom hadn’t called it in. He is just the source of the int and is still on the ground. On the casualty front, he’s also doing his best to even the score.’

Gavin paused. Now was the time to move away from his orders and let them know what he needed to happen once the teams were on the ground.

‘You know X-ray One. You know the history of his brother
and their fellow X-rays. Be aware. Be careful. Take no chances with any of them. But especially not X-ray One.’

Gavin deliberately didn’t pause for effect. He wanted the last statement simply to be part of the monotone flow. The team didn’t need it spelled out. They understood exactly what was implied. This wasn’t the first time there had been a ‘supplementary’ to a set of orders.

‘Deadlines. Negotiations – limited negotiations – have been taking place. The first deadline was met, and resulted in the death of a Yankee. So far we have one further possible, and an unknown number who may have died during the explosive entries – plus the French fire response team. X-ray One’s demands are for gold and an exit via helicopter.’

Eyebrows were raised in unison.

Gavin couldn’t agree more. ‘I know, I don’t trust it.’ He took a breath before moving on to the legals. ‘Mission. In two parts. To rescue the hostages and arrest X-ray One. Mission. In two parts. To rescue the hostages and arrest X-ray One.’

The mission statement was always given twice so there was no room for doubt. It was the most important part of the orders set: it was why the operation had to happen. In this particular case, now that the South Ossetian had control of real people, the task was no longer a clear non-lethal arrest.

The main objective was saving innocent people, which meant that Laszlo’s killing would be justified and legal – as long as whoever pulled the trigger maintained that, as far as he was concerned, his life, or the lives of others, was immediately endangered by X-ray One’s actions. No one else could make that judgement, or decree whether it was justified or not, because no one else could see what he saw or hear what he heard.

Gavin now came to the business end of the orders.

‘Execution. Sierra One will take his team forward and get as close as possible to the train, making sure you have a good sight picture on the gun position. Your task is to clear the route-to-target in the service tunnel and train tunnel, and secure your firing point; that will be the team’s start-line. You will take out
the gun team and any X-rays that could stop the assault group getting on target.

‘Assault group . . .’ The marker tapped the board again. ‘As soon as the Red team rock up, I’ll brief them. What you should know is, Red One and Two: window entry on Coach One. All entries will be axes only – no explosives. Red One and Two: their LOE is the cab and their link man with Coach Two. I also want Sierra One to move forward with Red One and Two and take out the forward gun team. Don’t wait for the “Go”. As soon as you get a sight picture, take the shots.’

Gavin assigned one coach per two assault teams. The idea was to swamp the area with assaulters, to lessen the risk of the X-rays having time to react and start killing the Yankees. A firefight would produce even more casualties. This option needed speed, aggression and surprise, if it was to have any level of success.

Gavin turned his attention to the third coach. ‘Blue Five and Six, entry on Coach Three. Your LOE is your link man to Coaches Two and Four, which is the buffet car.

‘Red Seven, and the remainder of the sniper group, will make entry at the UK end of the train and clear all the way up to Coach Four, the buffet car, and the link man on Coach Three.

‘Hostage reception. The reception area will be at the rear of the train. The Yankee handover to police will take place in the tunnel, out of sight and co-ordinated by the Red team.

‘ATO [ammunition technical officer] and trauma team. You will move forward with the assault group and be called forward on request from the start-line.

‘Signals. They will move with the sniper group and set up the re-broadcasters as you move forward.

‘Timings. After these orders I want everyone loaded into the Transits in ten – doors closed, out of sight. The team will move into the service tunnel and debus. The sniper group and re-broadcasters will then use the tunnel transport standing by to get to security gate D11-231. Look at the boards for pictures of the gate markings. This will be deactivated so you can make
entry into the Paris-bound tunnel approximately eight hundred metres our side of the target. The team will move five minutes after the sniper group, and support them from the security gate as they move along the Paris-bound tunnel.’

There was a roar of engines and the smell of bubbling rubber as the Red team’s Range Rovers screamed into the hangar after their Formula One fast drive. They formed up exactly as the Blue team had done, only closer to the toilet block. The Blue team ignored them. They had more important things to concentrate on.

‘The Red team will move into the tunnel as soon as they’re bombed-up and will hold in the service tunnel until called forward for hostage reception. Behind them will be police and emergency services. Any questions?’

There weren’t.

‘Good. Last chance to sort your shit out.’

That was all there was to say. Everybody knew the rest. As the Blue team turned towards their wagons, each assault-team commander was already talking to his guys. The Regiment was good at this. The skills used to make entry and clear an area, while keeping themselves and the Yankees alive, were down to three things: training, training and more training. Hundreds of hours of it enabled the assaulters to carry out often complex tasks without even thinking. It all became second nature – which gave them the luxury of being able to focus fully on any situation as it unfolded. What they saw, what they heard – those were the things that really counted.

‘Jockey! Mate, a quick one.’

‘Aye?’

Jockey stayed as the rest of the Blue team started to rip the bin liners off their Transits.

Gavin gripped his arm. ‘Mate, remember this fucker has something planned down there. Don’t take any chances. The sooner he’s history the better. Fuck the ICC – keep the good guys alive. Know what I mean?’

‘Aye.’ Jockey knew exactly what he meant.

Gavin headed back to his table to brief the assembling Red team. Their commander had jumped out of the first of the newly arrived Range Rovers and was already examining the boards.

79

TOM KEPT PARALLEL
with Colin and watched as he passed the shrink-wrapped cases of water along the three occupied carriages. Some passengers made sure the kids and the elderly got a drink first. Others just grabbed the nearest bottle and gulped it down. It made Tom gulp too: he could have done with a couple of those things. The one person he wanted to see drinking was Delphine and he still couldn’t find her: neither pushed up against the glass nor anywhere inside, beyond the human shields.

His iPhone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out. The sender ID was Delphine, and the text message read:

where r u?

Tom moved into cover beneath the carriage, hiding the illuminated screen inside his jacket, and tapped a response.

close

He didn’t have to wait long.

come get me coach 2 i’m scared

He texted back.

sit tight be there soon

The iPhone vibrated again almost at once.

come get me. I can run to the blown up door – meet there – tell me when you are at door and we can run

Delphine watched, horrified, as her iPhone beeped again.

Laszlo smiled as he read the incoming message.

stand by – may take time

He replied, then signalled his gunmen to position themselves by the door. They crawled quietly and purposefully along the passageway. Delphine heard a series of faint metallic clicks as they took their positions and flicked off their safety catches.

no – now – tell me when at door – only chance want go home

There was no response for a moment, then:

which home?

Laszlo knelt down beside Delphine and yanked her head back. ‘Where is home?’

Delphine muttered through tight lips.

He let go of her hair and let her head fall back.

He tapped in her response.

England

Her heart sank even further as she heard another beep. She waited, ready to scream a warning. Laszlo looked down and read the message, then cursed and threw the iPhone to the
floor. It skittered towards her. When it stopped spinning, Delphine could just read the message it contained:

harm her – u die slowly

Laszlo raised his hand and motioned to his men. Then he kicked out at Delphine. She took the force of his boot between her shoulder-blades and curled into a ball of pain.

The gunmen burst out of the carriage and whipped around, shining torches into the darkness, tracking the beams with their weapons. Two of them even climbed up onto the roof of the train.

‘Well?’ Laszlo called to them.

‘Nothing,’ came the reply.

He grabbed Delphine by the hair and dragged her violently towards the window. They could see little beyond the pool of light in the immediate area of the window but still he kept looking. She knew Tom was starting to get to him. She also knew Laszlo would not give up easily. And that, from now on, he would make absolutely sure he had control of her all the time. That way, Tom would come to him.

Delphine’s scream of pain carried into the dark reaches of the tunnel, where Tom lay in hiding as the torchlight slashed its way wildly across the walls.

As the gunmen got back into the train, empty-handed, he was already moving back towards the three occupied carriages, knowing full well that Laszlo would prepare for his return, and that Delphine was the bait. Knowing that he no longer held his trump card: the element of surprise. And knowing that an even bigger set of problems would be rocking up the tunnel any minute, and they’d all be dressed in black.

80

LASZLO DRAGGED DELPHINE
to the buffet car. It was empty apart from Sambor, who was in the narrow galley area adjoining the counter, rifling through the food drawers. With a look of disgust, he dropped sandwich pack after sandwich pack to the floor.

Laszlo pushed her up against the customer side of the counter and zip-tied her to it. She stared across at him, her eyes blazing with hatred, anger and fear.

At last Sambor found a sandwich filling he approved of and threw it to his brother.

Tom had finally found her.
And she was alive
.

He crouched opposite the buffet car and tried to regain his breath.

He watched, tried to listen to – and even lip-read – what Laszlo was saying to her, while working out how he was going to play this. There were only two of them with her, but they were expecting him.

Sambor had joined Laszlo behind the counter and was using the coffee maker with all the confidence of a black-belt barista.

His brother’s fury had abated a little, and his urbane charm
was back on display as he turned to Delphine. ‘Perhaps you would like some coffee? Sambor is something of an artist with an espresso machine. If we had been born into a different universe, he would have been a most famous chef. Maybe he’d have had his own TV show. They have so many on British TV – have you seen them? I have spent so much time lately watching British TV. They must be a nation of cooks, house-buyers and antique-collectors.’

Delphine stared at him, unmoving.

Sambor glared at her, as if she’d personally insulted everything his brother stood for. He poured himself a cup, sniffed its quality, then added four spoonfuls of sugar from a large catering tin.

Laszlo rummaged in the fridge. ‘Then perhaps a glass of wine instead? They have a surprisingly decent selection. You French are remarkable that way. You maintain your civilized lifestyle whatever the circumstances.

‘Sambor and I read about the banquet that your countrymen served during the siege of Paris in the 1870s. They used the zoo as their farmyard, and cooked whatever else the starving guests could scavenge from the streets. “Cat Flanked by Rats” was one dish, I seem to remember, and “Roast Bear”, “Escalope of Elephant with Shallot Sauce” – what elegance you always display, and what a shame you are such weaklings in battle. Do you think the two things go together?’ He held up a bottle for her to inspect. ‘A little sancerre to soothe your nerves?’