Tested by Fire by David Costa (the little red hen read aloud TXT) 📗

Waheed could see Costello looking at him and he noticed the strange smile he had on his face.

Lyndsey spoke again, ‘This team are going to strike a blow against the infidel that’ll go down in history as the greatest ever.’

Costello knew the rhetoric and the inclusion of the word infidel was for the benefit of the two newcomers and not directly aimed at him, even though he knew they would class him as such.

‘We’re going to kill the chief infidel…the British Prime Minister.’

Imtaz and Waheed looked at each other their eyes widened, their smiles broad…the frown still there. They looked for Lyndsey to continue.

‘We’re going to do it here in Manchester, at the Conservative Party Conference in five days’ time.’

‘What, no mortars this time?’ asked Waheed. Even he knew the fame of the improvised mortar attacks that had killed so many in Northern Ireland and almost killed the British Prime Minister and his cabinet when the IRA had mortared Downing Street itself from a Transit van parked in Whitehall.

Lyndsey continued, ‘Not this time, Waheed. This is not an impossible operation, otherwise I wouldn’t have come halfway round the world putting myself at great risk of capture or death. Some months ago, when I met Sean in Tehran, what began as the seed of an idea soon flourished after I’d spoken to Mohammad. He’s lived in England for some time and has passed information back to his cousins in the Islamic Jihad and Hezbollah. When I spoke to the commanders in Tehran about a joint operation with Sean, they told me to speak to Mohammad and it fit perfectly with the idea. I’ll let Mohammad tell you what he told me, and you’ll see why we can do this if we all work together. We each have a particular talent and we are all needed for this to run smoothly. Mohammad, can you tell us where you come in to it all?’

‘Sharon is correct; I’m originally from Iran and a member of Hezbollah. I’ve lived in England for eight years, five of them here in Manchester where I went to university before getting a job with a large property agent in Deansgate. From my first days in England I’ve sent home letters and emails to my people in Iran. If I wanted to send something of a sensitive nature, I would travel to the Iranian Embassy in London where the Cultural Attaché would forward it through secure channels. Sometimes, as on this occasion, the people in Iran would contact me if they had follow-up questions or instructions. Again, this was done through the Attaché and we’d meet in Manchester. This is exactly what happened when Sharon showed an interest in this operation. When I was at university, I joined the Conservative Party as a student. I attended meetings and showed interest but nothing more than making myself known to the local Constituency Chairman. I did this because I wanted to attend the Party Conference for which I had to be cleared through a strict vetting procedure – including police checks, and a reference from my local Chairman confirming who I am.’

‘You sound like a spy, brother,’ said Imtaz.

‘You could say that, what I’ve been doing would probably fall into that category. I attended the last Conference. As usual, I watched, listened, and reported back. I paid attention to the security surrounding the Conference itself from the outer perimeter of ordinary policing to the inner perimeter of heavily armed police and specialist officers. The whole area is surrounded by high fences and barriers. To gain access, you must wear a Conference identification card which has a barcode that’s scanned once on access through the outer barrier gate and a second time when you pass through a large tent fitted with full body and baggage scanners. This is manned by police and Conference security staff, and all this before you pass into the main Conference building.

‘The Midland Hotel, where the top government officials, including the PM, and party people stay during the Conference, backs on to the square leading to the Conference Centre. That’s where I saw the Prime Minister leave the hotel on the day of his main speech and walk with his bodyguards across the square – information I passed to Tehran two years ago.’

Mohammad stopped speaking, this was as much as he wanted to say at this time, now it was time to hear from others.

Lyndsey turned to Costello.

‘Sean, can you tell everyone where you think we are now?’

Costello took his time looking each in the eye in turn before he spoke.

‘First, let me say when Sharon and I first began to explore the possibility of such an operation, the one thing we both agreed on was that this would be an operation for serious, professional people, not a bunch of amateurs. That’s why you’re here. Each one of you has a proven track record of working for your cause, whatever that may be. If we’re to be successful, we must work together. As Sharon has already said, even if we have opposite ideas of who the enemy is.’ Costello looked at Waheed.

‘The information brought by Mohammad has helped bring us here to formulate a plan of attack. We each have a part to play which will become clearer to you over the next few days. We need to be armed. If you’re in danger of capture, you’ll have to shoot your own way out. We cannot let the enemy know our plan. I’ve already carried out the observation of the hotel and Conference areas, and I’ll do so once more before the security barriers are put in place. I recommend that you all do the same to familiarise yourselves with the area as well.’

Costello opened his tourist map on the table and pointing to it, continued, ‘This is a simple tourist map you can