LONDON ALERT (19 page)

L
ike
a
deep
-
sea
diver
surfac
ing
too
rapidly
from
the depths
, Holt
felt numb
as
he looked out the train window a
t
the countryside
,
and the
n the
outskirts of London
flitt
ing
by
.
More than
the
lovemaking
,
it was
Consuela’s
emotional
depth
and empathy
t
hat
had
,
for the first time since
losing his parents
,
made him
feel
really alive
and at one with himself. How he
missed her.

Inspector Holmes had warned
him that when working undercover, falling in love was an absolute no-no. Unless
he got Consuela out of his mind, he would arrive in London with his
instructions unread and mess everything up. He ripped open the envelope and
noted that the language was not as polite as before, as if he already belonged
to the Owl.

INSTRUCTIONS

At 3 a.m. tomorrow morning, we are launching a cruise
missile to knock Lord Nelson off his pedestal on top of his column in Trafalgar
Square, just like Saddam Hussein’s statue was yanked off his.

You, Benet, will be the target designator.

 A room at The Trafalgar hotel with an unobstructed view of
the upper part of the column has been booked for you under the name Hawke, and
you will find the credit card used to book it attached to the back of these
instructions. (You nominally checked in three days ago, with someone going to the
room every day to rough up the sheets and so to make it seem occupied. You
should not have to use the card, as we will keep the room for another couple of
nights to avoid suspicion, and someone else will settle the bill using an
identical copy.)

You will find the target-designating laser, together with the
operating instructions, in a silver case in your room. Do not drink too much
beforehand – or afterwards, for that matter. You will need a steady hand.

 When the train on which you are now riding arrives at
Marylebone station, walk to Baker Street station, where you will take a Jubilee
Line train to Westminster station. On exiting the ticket barrier at Westminster,
you will take the Bridge Street exit, facing you as you exit at the ticket
wickets, turn right, and walk the few yards before turning right again into Whitehall.
Walk calmly towards Trafalgar Square, keeping to the right-hand side.

This will take you past the Cenotaph war memorial to those
who so nobly gave their lives in the world wars only for their heroic work to
be undone by successive governments, and continue until you reach Number 33, a
pub called The Silver Cross, which is the last pub before Trafalgar Square. Have
a drink there and leave for the hotel at 5 p.m., a time when the reception
begins to get busy and you will be least noticed.

Detach the other card attached to the back of these
instructions to open the door to Room 507, your room.

We hope you will prove yourself worthy to remain one of us
on whatever basis might then seem appropriate. You will have the satisfaction
of having done a good deed, for England no longer deserves its greatest hero.

The Owl

Relieved that he had
not been asked to kill someone directly, Holt was still concerned at the
prospect of people being injured or killed when the missile struck the statue
and exploded. The specified route to the hotel along Whitehall, with its
government ministries and prime minister’s residence, was something of a godsend
as it was covered by some of the most sophisticated CCTV camera monitoring systems
in the country, and there was a good likelihood he would be identified and
tracked.

Still trying to stop Consuela
popping up in his thoughts, he eased back in his second-class seat as the train
entered the long tunnel just before Marylebone. Normally on returning to London,
he would be nonchalantly on his way to Giraffe or home. Today was to be
different.

As instructed, he
walked the five hundred yards from Marylebone to Baker Street, and on entering
the station looked up at the CCTV cameras. With luck, Giraffe would know he was
not only still alive but back in London and desperate to be contacted, since he
was vigorously rubbing his chin.

The Jubilee Line train
to Westminster only three stops away did not take long. He had never been to
that station before and was surprised at how deep the Jubilee Line was there
after passing under the Thames. There were three consecutive escalators to the
top, and the bottom looked like a nuclear bomb shelter.

On exiting into Bridge
Street, with Westminster Bridge on the left, he found the phallic presence of Big
Ben for some reason reassuring. Like
St
Paul’s Cathedral and Tower
Bridge, the famous clock tower above the Houses of Parliament had miraculously survived
the bombing during the Blitz in World War II largely unscathed. The giant hands
showed twenty past four. Perfect timing. So far things were going well. Would
he be able to say the same the following day?

 He walked the twenty-five
yards to Parliament Square and contrary to his instructions crossed over to the
other side of Whitehall, before turning right into the avenue so named. He
reasoned that there would be more cameras on that side next to the Foreign
Office and Downing Street, with the prime minister’s residence at No. 10, not
to mention other key government offices. Years ago, Downing Street had been
accessible to the public; now it was barricaded and guarded by police toting sub-machine
guns. How terrorists in one form or another had changed things. His toppling
Nelson would doubtless lead to such precautions becoming even more stringent.

Looking upwards and
glancing from side to side to where cameras might be, he had a begging look on his
face as he intermittently rubbed his chin remorselessly to emphasise he wanted
to be contacted ASAP. If he had not already been picked up by the facial-recognition
software at Baker Street and Westminster stations, he surely would be now.

Here in this sensitive
area, with police in civilian clothes as well as in uniform, they might be able
to get one to follow him – that is, if they could identify him in time.

Beyond the Cenotaph commemorating
the fallen in wars, he could see the two Horse Guards standing imperturbably in
their boxes as tourists sidled up to them to have their photos taken. He had read
somewhere that it would be cheaper to have actors in that role rather than professional
soldiers, though they might not be so long-suffering in the face of
provocations from young tourists, including cute girls wanting their faces as
close as possible to theirs. Holt too made a show of having a good gawp, so
anyone following would think he had crossed over to the other side of Whitehall
for that very purpose. It would also allow Giraffe more time for him to be
tracked.

Turning away to continue
on his way, he could see Nelson’s Column, with the admiral perched confidently
on top, directly ahead. He couldn’t believe that in less than twelve hours he
would be instrumental in knocking the man off the top. His time with Consuela had
in fact been the enjoyable appetiser; this was the main dish – and big time – and
with the reality dawning on him, he was getting jittery. Thankfully,
The Silver Cross
pub, where he could raise his spirits
with a stiff drink, was now just over on the other side of the road. Rather
than risk making his way through the moving traffic, he decided to cross at the
traffic lights at the foot of Trafalgar Square, which were not far ahead anyway,
and double back the eighty or so yards.

Altogether, his detour had
taken an extra five minutes, as he had had to wait for the lights to change. The
entrance to the pub was narrow, but once inside he found there was plenty of
room, with the seating area going way back from the busy street. The clientele –
a mix of regulars, passers-by, and tourists – would coalesce around anyone
following him and make it impossible to identify them. Indeed, the Owl probably
already had someone there to report on his progress.

He went to the far end
of the bar and ordered a double whisky and soda. Being intelligent, he never
asked for ice in a pub, knowing that it was usually full of microbes – people
ordering drinks unintentionally spit in the ice-bucket behind the counter and bar
staff dip their fingers into it as they scoop out the ice for drinks after
handling dirty coins.

He sat down at a table
right in the middle of the pub in full view and drank his whisky slowly. There
was plenty of time and, fearing to order another, he wanted to make it last. As
the hands on his watch moved to show five o’clock, he stood up and made his way
through the crowd to the exit. On stepping out into the busy thoroughfare, he
was surprised by the sound of a helicopter hovering almost overhead. Then, realizing
and hoping that it might be for his benefit, he looked up and rubbed his chin
but tried not to make it too obvious to anyone standing nearby.

To get to the hotel, he
had to cross busy Whitehall itself at the lights where he had just crossed and
then cross The Mall in front of Admiralty Arch. He could not continually look upwards
for fear of being run over. Also, looking up at the helicopter would raise
suspicions should the Owl be having him followed.

The Trafalgar
, a ‘boutique
hotel’ belonging to the Hilton Group, was discreet, so much so that one could
easily miss the entrance were one not especially seeking it. As he had been
told to expect, reception was busy, with people returning to the hotel from
meetings or going out for an evening on the town.

As someone had already
checked in several days before using his alias, he only had to nod in the
direction of reception and move a few yards further on to take one of the lifts
to the sixth floor. Unlike at a number of less well-managed hotels, he
had no trouble opening the door to his room with his card. Though not up to the
Hotel du Cap at Antibes standard, the room was quite spacious, and, with its
view of Nelson’s Column, would in different circumstances have been a great
place to impress a woman by virtue of its great location, with the admiral, himself
no stranger to trysts, looking on.

Having had a peek at Nelson
from the window, he went to check the silver case on the baggage stand. The
laser with telescopic sights was there, together with a digital alarm clock
showing seconds as well as hours and minutes, and of course the envelope with
instructions, not forgetting the mobile phone.

God, he felt nervous.

Though the Owl had
warned him not to drink too much, he could not resist taking a cold beer from
the minibar. After all, there was still plenty of time before the big moment.

Surely that hovering helicopter
had been for his benefit. Knowing he was staying at the hotel would be enough.
They could examine the hotel videos, identify him, and note from the hotel
computer what room doors had been opened shortly after his arrival.

His room was almost certainly
bugged, quite likely not only for audio but also video. His making a lot of
noise to prevent anyone hearing what was being said or leaving a sheet of paper
for someone to pick up would raise suspicions. The only solution was to have a
note ready and pass it to the person Giraffe would send to contact him.

He went into the shower
booth with a pen and a beermat he had kept as a souvenir from the Hotel du Cap,
closed the frosted glass door, and wrote a short note for Giraffe, describing
what he had been asked to do, making clear that unless ordered not to do so he would
proceed. With the beermat high up in his right trouser pocket, he returned to
the room and picked up the phone to order a club sandwich and a coffee.

Having been told it would
take about thirty minutes, as they were very busy, he had time to read the
instructions in the envelope and check the laser.

INSTRUCTIONS

1. When it gets dark, try out the target designator by
switching on the laser power supply and waiting for it to power up (only takes
about 30 seconds) indicated by the red lamp changing to green. Squeeze the
trigger to switch on the laser and then harder to lock it in the ON position.

2. Using the telescopic sight, confirm that the red spot
from the laser is visible to you high up on the admiral’s chest, before
switching off the laser by pulling hard back on the trigger to unlock it.

3. Repeat the process to make sure it comes naturally to
you. Power down the laser and replace it in its case. Check that the battery
charge indicator shows it is well charged. If not, recharge it using the adapter
connected to the mains supply. Whatever you do, DO NOT LEAVE THE LASER SWITCHED
ON when not in use! If you do, you risk finding yourself powerless when the big
moment comes.