The Call of Destiny (The Return of Arthur Book 1) (45 page)

BOOK: The Call of Destiny (The Return of Arthur Book 1)
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If the devices really existed,
and if they were detonated, London would be devastated. The enormity of the
threat that confronted them was beginning to sink in. It would take years to
recover. The only hope was to find and neutralise all the devices, and that, in
the short time available, and despite the sophisticated detection equipment at
the disposal of the armed forces, would be a huge challenge.

‘Now we come to casualties,’
said George Bedivere. ‘I left that till last because obviously the estimate
depends largely on the success of our evacuation plans. I have to tell you,
though, that there could be as many as a hundred thousand immediate deaths, and
perhaps a million serious injuries from the blast, burns and so on.’

‘And I suppose,’ said Thomas
Winnington, ‘the story would be much the same in all the other targeted
cities?’

‘More or less,’ Bedivere
confirmed, ‘except that in Beijing and Tokyo where the population concentration
is much greater, I would expect the number of casualties to be correspondingly
higher.’

John Aitkinson, Home
Secretary, shifted in his chair and suggested hopefully, ‘Surely that’s a worst
case scenario?’

George Bedivere shook his head
firmly. ‘It’s a realistic one. What’s more, it doesn’t take into account the
biological threat which is hard to assess in terms of casualties. No, ladies
and gentlemen, I’m afraid what we are facing is not just a catastrophe in the
making for this generation, it could well affect generations to come.’ He spoke
gravely and with emphasis. ‘I am talking about the possibility of many deaths,
horrible, lingering deaths, a plague of diseases associated with nuclear and
biological contamination affecting all sections of the population, including
millions still unborn.’

No one spoke. In the silence
every member of the cabinet was looking at Arthur. He spoke quietly, directing
his eyes at each member of the cabinet in turn, emphasising their personal involvement.
‘Since the beginning of this century we have witnessed many terrorist acts. But
nothing to compare with this. Each of you has a vital role to play. We have
less than four days – ninety-three hours, to be precise – to find a solution.
If we remain calm and focused we shall succeed.’

George Bedivere nodded his
agreement. ‘The cabinet is a hundred percent behind you, sir.’

There were emphatic nods and murmurs of
agreement.

Arthur spoke crisply and
decisively. ‘There will be another meeting of the cabinet at three this
afternoon. George, I shall want a report on military options. Jean, you will
report on measures taken by civil defence, fire and ambulance services,
hospitals and other emergency medical services. John, you will update us on the
latest intelligence from MI5 and MI6. We need any information we can get, and
we need it now – any possible leads on the location of the devices, or on the
Angels of Mercy. You and George will also co-ordinate the activities of the
Metropolitan police and the Chiefs of Staff. I also want an immediate
twenty-four hour link set up with Interpol and with the police and intelligence
and security services of the seven other countries involved.’

The Chancellor spoke
hesitantly. ‘I hate to mention it, sir, but do you want me to prepare a report
on the availability of funds, should it become necessary?’ His voice caught in
his throat. ‘Should all else fail?’

Arthur’s response was
uncompromising. ‘Surrender is not an option. There is no question of giving in
to extortion and blackmail. It would be a disaster for the world if we did.
What we need is to establish a link with the Angels of Mercy, and to gain time
by talking to them, time to trace the devices and time to track down the
terrorists and deal with them.’

George Bedivere nodded. He was
in full agreement with Arthur. Nevertheless, he prided himself on being a
realist. ‘What if they refuse to talk?’

‘I am not interested in
what-ifs,’ said Arthur curtly. ‘You all know what has to be done. Let’s do it.’

Now that they had an action
plan, the atmosphere in the cabinet room was considerably less despondent. The
Prime Minister may not have offered any easy solutions, but he had at least
shown decisiveness. ‘A few final words, ladies and gentlemen,’ said Arthur. ‘As
you know, we have declared a state of emergency under the Emergency Powers Act.
This allows us to call in the armed forces, not only to maintain essential
services, but also, should it become necessary, to requisition property.
Fifteen minutes from now I shall be speaking to the nation, and after that to
the House. The evacuation of London will begin shortly. It will be a daunting
task. If we include those who travel into town to work or shop, we are talking
about ten to twelve million people. We need to act fast, but remember, whatever
we do we must avoid panicking the population. The Secretary of State for
Transport is working urgently on the logistics. That’s why he isn’t here now.’

Immediately after the cabinet
meeting broke up, Arthur was onscreen with Winslow Marsden, the US President.
‘With the greatest respect to your illustrious twentieth century predecessor,’
said the President grimly, ‘there are times when ‘war war’ is better than ‘jaw
jaw’. This is one of them.’

‘I don’t disagree with you,’
said Arthur, ‘but it is essential that any action we take be co-ordinated with
all eight countries.’

The caution did nothing to
improve the President’s mood. ‘See here, Arthur, when it comes to action, we’ll
do what we need to do. We are still the most powerful nation on this planet.’

‘Power alone will not locate
the devices,’ warned Arthur, ‘nor will it track down the terrorists.’

‘Don’t you believe it. We have
eyes in the sky that can read the print on a can of beans,’ the President
boasted. ‘We have ears on the ground that can pick up a grasshopper’s cough.
Not a mouse craps on this planet without our knowing it.’

There was no point in taking
issue with Marsden, especially when the issue was theoretical. ‘Let’s
concentrate on identifying and locating the Angels of Mercy,’ said Arthur.

‘Iran is behind this. Or the
K.O.E.. Or both.’ ‘Probably. But where’s the evidence?’

The blood rose swiftly to the
President’s face. ‘Evidence! Who gives a fuck about evidence! This is war, man,
not a trial in some goddam court of law! I’ll show the mother fuckers they
can’t mess with the USA. We’ve taken all we intend to take from these bastards.
If it comes right down to it I won’t hesitate to nuke them. And I won’t be
asking the UN’s permission either.’ But without a target to strike, there was
little the United States or anyone else could do. Unleashing nuclear missiles
would result in millions of innocent deaths, and would almost certainly plunge
the world into nuclear war. Every developed country now had a substantial
stockpile of nuclear weapons and long-range missiles. A few so-called ‘rogue’
states were also known to possess some nuclear capability. Nuking was not a
realistic option for dealing with terrorists, and Winslow Marsden knew that as
well as Arthur. But then what
were
their options?

Minutes later Arthur was on TV addressing the
nation. Immediately after the broadcast he was driven to the House of Commons
where he made a further statement. He took pains to reassure the House and the
country, sounding confident that the devices would be located and neutralised.
However, as a sensible precaution, and to ensure that the army, the police,
firemen, ambulances and other vital services had complete freedom of movement,
he urged everyone who lived or worked in London to leave the city as soon as
possible.

There was ample time, he said,
for a total evacuation, and no need to panic. Public transport was being geared
up to cope with the increased flow of people, and temporary accommodation
erected on the outskirts of the city for those who had nowhere else to go. No
private cars were to be used for the evacuation. It was essential that roads
were kept open, more especially the main arteries in and out of London, so that
key transport and other vital services were able to do their job efficiently.

As the Prime Minister began
his speech the House was packed. By the time he sat down, a mere handful of
MP’s remained. Arthur could not help wondering where they had all gone. If even
MP’s were starting to panic, how would the general public react to the crisis?

By Friday afternoon the
evacuation of London was under way, and with some isolated exceptions the
population remained calm. It was clear, however, that the transport system
would have difficulty coping with the huge numbers already thronging the
streets. Crowds had gathered at bus stops and underground stations across the
city. Though they were orderly enough, it was soon impossible to tell where one
queue began and the next ended.

By nine a.m. Saturday morning,
a million people had left London. It was good but not good enough. There were
three days to go, a mere seventy-two hours. The evacuation would have to be
speeded up, or millions would be stranded in the city when the deadline expired
on Saturday morning.

In Beijing and Tokyo, Paris, Berlin and
Brussels, the scene was much the same as in London. Tension was building but no
serious incidents had so far been reported. In Moscow and Washington sporadic
fighting and some rioting and looting had already broken out. People were
beginning to ignore the regular broadcasts appealing for a calm and orderly
response to the crisis.

By mid-afternoon the situation
had deteriorated further. Outbreaks of violence were no longer confined to
Washington and Moscow. From Berlin and Paris, Beijing, Tokyo and Brussels, the
news was grim. Street fighting had broken out, resulting in deaths and
widespread vandalism – the overturning and burning of buses, cars and trucks,
and widespread looting of shops, stores and private houses. People fought to
hire taxis at usurious rates, or attempted, despite warnings, to escape in
their own cars; but scarcely any made it, the majority being dragged from their
vehicles and attacked by angry mobs desperate to escape the city.

It was feared that if the
devices were not found soon, mobs would take over the streets. The threat posed
by panic and chaos was now as great as that posed by the devices themselves.
Positive news was desperately needed.

Winslow Marsden appeared on
television to tell the people of the United States and the whole world what he
thought they needed to hear. The Administration, he said, had information that
would shortly lead to the arrest of the terrorists and the destruction of the
devices. It was not so much an exaggeration as a blatant lie, for neither the whereabouts
of the terrorists nor that of the devices was known, and no one had even
succeeded in establishing contact with The Angels of Mercy. Yet for the moment
the lie was believed and the President’s words, relayed across the globe,
offered the reassurance people were looking for.

At five p.m. Washington time,
ten p.m. London time, the eight nations held an onscreen conference linking
Zhongnanhai in Beijing, the Prime Minister’s residence in Tokyo, the Federal
Chancellery in Berlin, the Kremlin in Moscow, the Elysée in Paris, the offices
of the European Commission in Brussels, the White House in Washington and 10
Downing Street in London. The world leaders, together with their aides, were
projected in 3D on wrap-around screens, creating the illusion that they were
sitting together in one conference room.

Winslow Marsden now seemed
more relaxed. ‘The CIA is convinced it’s a bluff, a clumsy attempt at
blackmail.’

‘Is it then so clumsy?’
enquired the German Chancellor. ‘They have us running round like –
wie heiss
das auf
Englisch
?

– ya, hot cats.’

‘We’ll be making a big mistake
if we let them call the shots,’ said the US President. ‘Look at their
ultimatum. Who could take it seriously? A hundred and twenty-five billion
dollars! What am I saying? A thousand billion dollars! A trillion dollars! They
know we could never hand over that kind of money.’

The German Chancellor coughed.
‘This depends on how they think we value a human life.’

‘Or a thousand lives,’ said the French
President.

‘Or a million,’ said the
President of the European Commission glumly.

‘There are no devices,’ said
Winslow Marsden scornfully. ‘It’s all bullshit. I refuse to authorise one cent
of taxpayers’ money, and I’m not letting any of those murdering bastards out of
jail. Even if I wanted to, I don’t have the authority. Congress would never
allow it. And what about their other demands? We have to admit we are murderers
and face prosecution! How about that! Can you see the President of the United
States of America standing trial in some goddamn kangaroo court!’

A shadow of a smile crossed
the face of the Russian President. ‘Maybe is not such bad idea.’

‘Now see here . . . ’ The US
President bit his tongue. ‘Very amusing,’ he conceded.

‘Is not joke,’ said the Russian President.

The President of China contributed a subtle
offering. ‘This is the day of the fox, not the bull.’ After some puzzled looks,
this apparently obscure observation was tacitly interpreted as a word of
caution.

‘France will act to protect its own interests,’
said the French President. ‘In case of need, we shall be ready to discuss
terms.’ ‘That,’ said the US President sardonically, ‘comes as no surprise to
anyone.’

A Gallic shrug and a ‘pouff’
of disdain was the only reaction.

‘I beg you,’ said Arthur, ‘let
us concentrate on finding common ground. I see this crisis as an acid test of
the courage and resolve of the free world. We have to demonstrate that we can
speak with one voice and act together firmly and decisively. If we fight
amongst ourselves, we are lost. Our greatest strength is our unity. They will
try to divide us in order to weaken us. We must not let that happen.’

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