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

Smiling, he opened the door and waved everyone through.

Reece was beginning to take to this man. He’d seen this same self-depreciating type of humour before in people who, despite doing a very dangerous job, could still laugh at themselves and the situation they were in. The inside of the hanger was exactly as Reece expected: a large cavernous building with no windows, doors front and rear, split into three large sections by heavy dark sliding doors from floor to ceiling, making three large roomed areas.

‘This is your living area.’ Geoff pointed to the first sectioned off area. ‘The middle section is the general comms area with links for us, the police, and a separate link for your team in London. All the comms links can be combined when needed. The third section at the rear is where me and the boys are bedding down. We had a basic briefing at the head-shed in Hereford this morning so once you’ve settled in could you come along and bring us up to speed?’

‘No problem, see you in fifteen minutes.’

The section allocated to the SG9 team had all the home from home comforts you would associate with a camping trip: basic to say the least, camp beds, blow-up mattresses, a square table with six hard chairs.

No relaxing here, thought Reece.

He threw his bag on the first bed. April took the last knowing the toilet and washroom facilities were going to be the only private place to change. She’d been on many operations before and was used to such places. Reece went to the middle section of the three partitions to find Middleton and the rest of his eight-man team. Two communications officers manned the radio desk and phones. Talking to one of the operators was a senior police officer, the badge on his shirt’s epaulets showing he was the Assistant Chief Constable. When he saw Reece, he came over and shook his hand.

‘Mr Reece, hello, I’m Graham Lockwood, Gold Commander for the Conference. Whitehall tells me I’m to give you whatever you need but as that’s all they’ve told me, the floor is yours.’

Reece took in Lockwood; he thought he was shorter than most police officers he knew and put him at around forty but with a shock of grey hair that made him look older.

‘Pleased to meet you, sir. I presume Whitehall also told you we don’t have much time?’

‘Yes, they did say the period covered the Conference dates next week.’

Turning to the room, Reece knew the more information he could give everyone the better result the outcome would be. The seated SAS CQB team reminded him of his Special Branch days and briefings such as this. The men in front of him looked fit and alert. They would know that every piece of information would make their job that much easier and the targets that much easier to identify.

Reece brought them up to date with the intelligence he’d received from Mary. ‘We don’t know the numbers, exactly who they are, or even how they intend to carry out the attack, but we do know the lead terrorist is an Irishman called Sean Costello originally from South Armagh. We have old photos of him which I’ll have distributed to you. We have border agencies checking for arrivals and CCTV from Ireland. We will also be checking the CCTV around the area of the Conference. The photo and the information aren’t for distribution to the press at this time.  Geoff, I’ll send the rest of my team to meet with you guys later so that you’re all familiar with each other. We will be out on the ground getting to know the area around the Conference and I recommend you do the same but keep it low key. If these people are already in the area, they’ll be switched on and on the lookout for anything out of place and could potentially know some of our surveillance techniques.’

‘We can make the Conference zone airtight,’ said Lockwood.

‘I know, but that would do two things: Alert the press and spook the terrorists. That’s why the PM has rejected any such overkill in security measures. His own security detail will be aware of a threat increase but nothing more specific than that. Our job is to find these people and stop them before they even get close to him. I’ll keep you all updated on any new intelligence we receive, of course. Our communications will be filtered through London and here. Don’t underestimate these people. They are determined and more than experienced in what they do, our job is to stop them.’

‘Mr Reece,’ said Lockwood. ‘Please give your team members one of these.’

He handed Reece black armbands with the word Police in large white letters written on them.

‘They won’t protect you from bullets but in a confusing situation they might just save your life.’

‘Thank you. May I suggest we meet back here tomorrow at 1800 for any updates? If there’re any questions I’ll try to answer them?’

No one spoke. Reece knew from experience that the CQB team would spend their time checking equipment, comms, and maps, getting to know the targets and the target area. Questions would come later if they needed to know more.

‘Just one more thing, Mr Reece,’ said Lockwood. ‘All this interagency stuff in such a small area worries me. My central command room is in the city and yours is here. I don’t want us all shooting at each other by mistake.’

‘As I’ve already said, Commander, I am in total control of this operation. Everyone will be told what they need to know and if I want people to stay out of our way they stay out of our way. I will, however, let you send one or two officers from your communications team to work here and