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Authors: John Mannion

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BOOK: Century of Jihad
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Saqib was driving and Ahmed sat beside him keeping an alert eye out for police patrol vehicles which he was concerned may stop them at this early hour for no other reason than to alleviate boredom. In the event of this happening, his instructions were clear. The team was to act ruthlessly and quickly. They carried two handguns and several nail bombs for this purpose. Then they were to steal, hijack if necessary, another vehicle to escape the scene and proceed on their way. Nothing was to get in the way of their mission.

However, all went smoothly and they were on the M4 heading west in no time. Although by no means busy, there was a steady flow of vehicles and Ahmed began to feel more relaxed. He felt they now blended in with the other early morning traffic and were therefore less likely to draw unwanted attention. They were heading towards the Leigh Delamere service area just past Junction 17. Here they were due to transfer to the articulated truck which had been parked up by the planning cell and was awaiting their arrival. This was to be their transport for the remaining journey to the power station and their assault vehicle on reaching the target. On board the truck were the weapons they needed to complete their task. Needless to say the vehicle and its precious cargo were being watched over by the planning cell until their arrival.

Ahmed and his team arrived at the service area at 6.15am as planned, parked the van and made their way to the truck, all the while their eyes darting around on the look-out for a trap. They passed by the restaurants, shops and Travel Lodge on the way to the truck park. Unseen, the planning cell members watched the attack cell open the truck cabin and rear doors to the trailer and climb in. Their job done, the planning cell left the service area. At no time did either cell make contact.

Ahmed once again sat in the front passenger seat in the driver’s cab next to Saqib, who drove the vehicle out of the service station and back onto the M4. The motorway had become busier but, as before, the traffic moved smoothly and they continued along the M4, eventually joining the M48 without any delays. They came off the M48 at Junction 1, and headed for Thornbury via the B4461. Passing through Thornbury, they followed the ‘Construction Traffic’ signs heading towards their final destination – Oldbury. Dark clouds moved slowly across the early morning winter sky, and the air outside the truck was almost freezing. As they drew closer to their destination, Ahmed could feel the tension and excitement grow in him. He was sure the others would be feeling the same.

C
HAPTER
21

Adam Cosgrove, a twenty-five-year-old Police Constable in the Civil Nuclear Constabulary, heard the snooze alarm go off for the third time. Leaning across to the bedside table, eyes shut, he switched it off and groaned. He now knew that he had to get out of bed immediately. He couldn’t risk dozing off again, which would make him late for his morning shift at Oldbury Power Station.

Adam’s daily ritual of the extra lie-in and ignoring the alarm until the third ring, irritated his wife, Helen. Not only did it wake her up, but she then lay there feeling responsible for ensuring he eventually responded. As usual, Adam jumped out of bed to get the adrenalin going and ran towards the bathroom. As he showered he thought about the day ahead. He hated the early shift – it always upset his metabolism. He was not a morning person.

Today Adam was rostered for duty at the Main Gate, which made matters worse. He found the power station complex oppressive, with its drab buildings, fencing and pipes belching steam. He much preferred mobile patrol, which allowed him to leave this environment and do external patrols, for part of his shift at least. It was also less boring than standing checking people’s IDs as they came to work. Dressing quietly, Adam ran downstairs, grabbed a fruit juice drink from the fridge and, without disturbing his wife, set off on the short journey to work.

Arriving at 5.45am, he went straight to the armoury to draw his Glock 17 9mm pistol and a Heckler and Koch G36 self-loading assault rifle, along with ammunition. He then headed to the parade room and joined the ten other constables and two shift sergeants, who were animatedly discussing the weekend sports results while they waited for the Inspector to arrive for the briefing. The room fell silent as the Inspector entered, and they listened to the routine briefing regarding their duties for the coming eight-hour shift. The briefing included a reminder that the terror alert level was still high, as a result of the London bombings. The sergeants then inspected the officers’ firearms and everyone dispersed to their place of duty.

Adam and three colleagues relieved the night shift officers at the Main Gate, and chatted as they waited for the morning rush into the establishment. Once this was over, they’d be able to settle down for the rest of the shift until relieved at 2pm.

Adam and Helen were planning a trip to Bristol that afternoon to do some Christmas shopping which they had left, as usual, until the last minute. Adam loved Christmas, but hated Christmas shopping. Being dragged round crowded and hot department stores was an experience he tried to duck out of every year. Helen had taken 20
th
December as a day’s holiday, but only told him last night so he couldn’t wriggle out of it. Still, it was a Monday, he thought, so the shops hopefully wouldn’t be so crowded!

Emma Jones, a thirty-year-old, divorced mother of two young children, Simon, age four and Sarah, two, had worked at the power station for five years as a clerical assistant in the Human Resources department. She had woken that morning to the sound of the alarm clock by her bedside and, as usual still tired, had struggled out of bed straight away. The first thing she did each morning was to peer into the bedroom where Simon and Sarah were still sound asleep. ‘Recharging their little batteries,’ she said to herself smiling.

She always mused at this sight of peaceful tranquillity – the children like little cherubs, whom she regretted having to disturb. But needs must, she thought. First though, she went downstairs and put the kettle on. She had to have her morning fix of coffee to start her engine. Coffee poured and cooling, she then showered and quickly dressed for work.

‘No time to spend pampering myself with those two little angels to sort out,’ she smiled to herself wistfully.

Having finished her coffee, she poured another and then went into the children’s bedroom, on occasions with some dread, bracing herself for the onslaught of another day. This morning, just as on any other working morning, Emma gently woke the two children, washed, dressed and fed them, taking swigs of her second coffee as she went along. Since 1
st
December, she’d had to factor in an extra fifteen minutes to their morning routine for the daily ritual of Advent Calendar opening. The children got so excited about what they were going to find behind the little cardboard door – Emma was just grateful it wasn’t chocolate!

Opening ceremony over, Emma picked up young Sarah and, taking hold of Simon’s hand in an effort to speed him along, she left her small two-bedroom house. She locked the front door and strapped the children into the back of the old saloon car, which had been a present from her parents after the divorce.

The journey to work was uneventful. The weather was awful, with dark clouds skimming across the sky and a freezing wind coming in from the Bristol Channel. The children behaved themselves this morning. Sarah was singing Christmas carols to herself, with Simon asking the usual questions as Emma drove from their home to Oldbury.

‘Are we nearly there, Mummy? How many sleeps until Christmas, Mummy?’

She continued along the country road which, unfortunately at this time of the morning during the working week, was quite busy with workers and contractors heading towards the power station.

Each morning Emma arrived at the car park provided for staff, just outside the site perimeter, at approximately 8.30am. Then, on foot, she took her two children through the pedestrian access gate onto the establishment. Heading for the establishment’s main road, which ran from the main gate into the heart of the complex, she and the children would walk up the road to where the nursery, which the power station provided for its employees, was located.

This morning Emma was running on schedule. It was exactly 8.30am as she unstrapped and lifted Sarah from the child seat in the back of the car. With Sarah in her arms, she went round to the other side of the vehicle to open the door for Simon, who jumped out and stood beside her. Carrying Sarah in one arm and holding onto Simon’s hand, she then walked, as briskly as her son would allow, towards the nursery. On arrival, she settled the two children in and kissed them goodbye. They would be there until she collected them at 4.30pm.

‘Only three more days of this – then I’m off until the New Year,’ she smiled to herself with relief.

They were going to her parents on Christmas Eve until the New Year. She couldn’t wait to see them, or her younger brother, and maybe catch up with some old friends on a much needed night out.

C
HAPTER
22

Ahmed could now see the tall structures of the power station looming up ahead of them. He used his mobile phone to communicate with the four team members in the rear of the vehicle.

‘We’re getting close. Stay calm and alert!’ he instructed them. ‘I will keep the phone line open for now! When I give the word, remove the covers from the port holes as planned.’

The large vehicle continued down the approach road to the power station and, as expected, joined a line of traffic waiting to go through the control barrier. Ahmed could make out four armed police officers carrying Heckler Koch assault rifles. He could see the police were checking all occupants’ IDs. Their truck was now just a few car lengths from the barrier. Ahmed could feel the mounting tension within him heighten even more.

The traffic flow into the establishment always increased at 8.30am, and the officers at the main gate were busy checking all vehicles as they arrived for work. Adam was standing beside a colleague on the road at the first set of open metal gates, checking that both drivers and their vehicles had the appropriate passes to enter the establishment. The other two officers, standing at the second set of open gates, had the task of providing cover for their two colleagues standing in the road. The vehicular traffic through these gates had increased massively since the start of construction work on the site. The contractors were an impatient lot, intolerant of the security procedures which they saw as bureaucratic nonsense that only got in the way of efficiency and speed.

The car in front of the attack cell’s truck had now stopped at the barrier; its driver waving his ID at the police officer. Ahmed could clearly see two officers were inspecting vehicles and IDs; others could be seen standing further on, at another set of open metal gates. He relayed this information to the team in the vehicle’s trailer on his open phone line, and they in turn acknowledged receipt. The back up plan, should there be a problem with the phone line, was that Saqib would give two short blasts on the vehicle’s horn. On hearing this, the team in the trailer was to remove the covers from the port holes, observe and fire at will.

The car in front was waved through the checkpoint. Saqib revved the truck’s engine, and their vehicle started to move forward. Ahmed shouted into his mobile phone:

‘This is it, brothers! May Allah be with us!’

Adam had been aware of the large, white articulated truck looming above the other vehicle. As the small car at the front of the line was waved through by his colleague, Adam couldn’t help noticing the truck’s revving engine, which he felt was unnecessary. However he put this down to either an inexperienced driver or an impatient contractor, and took a step back. With the air brakes released, the vehicle lurched forward.

On Ahmed’s instructions, the four terrorists in the trailer simultaneously removed the covers from the concealed port holes and took up firing and observation positions, propped against the sandbags which had been placed around the interior walls of the trailer to give some protection to the occupants.

Adam and his colleague took a step back as the large vehicle bore down on them, its engine still revving. At first the two officers didn’t feel threatened but, realising the vehicle was not going to stop, Adam raised his hand indicating to the driver to halt. He was still trying to assess the situation.

The two officers at the second set of gates stood watching curiously. Adam heard a loud bang coming from the vehicle’s trailer. Then more of the same. ‘It sounds like fireworks,’ he thought at first. The truck was picking up speed. There was no way it was going to stop! Adam felt like a silent observer. The vehicle was passing by and it began to dawn on Adam, who had become used to a routine, that what was now unfolding was not routine. More bangs reverberated from the trailer. Adam jumped back a couple more paces, now fully aware that they were under attack. The situation was unfolding rapidly, although to all involved it was happening in slow motion. The four police officers had taken vital seconds to react to the situation. Adam crouched to the ground, raising his assault rifle and aimed it at the passing vehicle. He was aware that his colleague had also crouched and raised his rifle not far from his side. Adam fired two aimed shots at the passing truck, having first ensured no innocent party was in the line of fire. Out of the corner of his eye he caught a glimpse of his colleague flailing backwards. Looking round instinctively, he saw the other officer lying motionless, a pool of blood spreading from what was left of his head. Running on autopilot, Adam turned his attention back to the truck, which was now speeding past the checkpoint and heading into the establishment. Taking aim a second time, he fired off another two rounds into the trailer.

An officer at the second gate, who had been crouched down in a firing position, spun round, dropping his weapon as his left arm hung loosely from its shattered socket. There were thuds and bangs on the side of the truck as police bullets hit their target. All the while, a constant fusillade of bullets continued to come from the trailer.

BOOK: Century of Jihad
9.01Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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