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"Timings. After these orders I want the teams to look at the plans and sort themselves out. By fifteen thirty five hours the I.A. 's ready.
The first deadline is at sixteen hundred.
"Vehicle group, at fifteen-fifty everyone needs to be on the wagons, ready apart from respirators. We will then I move in slow time to the start 1- e. Tango One will lead, in and I'll show you the way.
The team will be stood to at the start line at fifteen.fifty-five hours.
"Heli group, at fifteen fifty-five you need to be on board, rotors turning. Steve, if you are not told otherwise, close down at sixteen-ten. Any questions? No?
Right that's it."
The formal stuff over with, I then talked with my team and mulled over the plans.
"Dave," you make ohtry. I'll go in number one-Tim Two, Fat Boy Three, and Dave Four. Once we clear the hallway we will go left and take the large room, then this one here by the stairwell. Once we are all clear I want you, Tim, to link up with Three Alpha at the bottom of the stairs, then clear to the first landing and RP with Two. Any questions?
Good, let's sort our s.h.i.t out and load up."
That was all there was to say because everybody knew the rest.
We walked out of the briefing area to the two Range Rovers, Tango One and Tango Two, that were going to take us -on to the target.
"h.e.l.lo, Alpha, this is Three," I said on the net.
"That's Tango One and Two moving to the start line.
Over."
"Alpha, roger that, moving to the start line."
"Alpha" was the coordinating call sign for our base, which would be in the briefing area and manned by the scaley. "Alpha One" was the commander.
The blokes were sitting all over the outside of the vehicles. All Don, the driver, could see was two pairs of black legs that belonged to my team, who were going to take the first floor. As we moved to the start line under police escort, I could hear the Agustas' rotors starting to wind up.
I got out of the Range Rover at the corner of the row of buildings and watched as everyone put his respirator on and "checked camber"-pulling the working parts back slightly on his weapons so that he could see there was a round ready to fire.
The two drivers quickly turned up to the corner and got down on their stomachs. One of them peered around with just a quarter of his face and one eye so he could look up the drive and get a mental picture of the run-in. As soon as Tango One's driver had had a look, he got out of the way and the other fellow got down.
"Alpha this is Three, that's Two and Three stood to, over."
"Alpha, roger that, One acknowledge."
"One stood to, out," the pilot said.
In the background of his radio message I could hear the rotors turning.
The squadron O.C would be with the senior policeman, listening on his radio and explaining everything that we were doing and confirming that the I.A was stood to. If the X rays started killing the Yankees, it was the police, not us, who would decide that we went in.
We were there to supply military aid to the civil power, that was all.
All the team sat on the wagons and in the helicopters, listening on their radios and waiting for the deadline.
Engines and rotors were running.
It was now approaching the deadline. The snipers were watching and listening intently.
"Alpha-Sierra One, that's shouting and movement on White One-One," came one.
Each window and door had a color and number. I knew he was referring to the far-left bottom window.
"Alpha, roger that, shouting and movement on White One-One."
All the team could hear this on their own radios.
"Alpha, Sierra One, that's White One-One opening, wait wait..
. that's one X ray, possible male, black ski mask with a green combat jacket carrying an AK wait he's shouting and pointing to the control area, over."
"Alpha, roger that, out to you. Tango One, acknowledge."
"Tango One."
"Tango Twoll "Tango Two."
"One?"
"One, roger that," Steve said. The rotors were still turning.
"Alpha One?"
"Alpha One, roger."
It was the last chance for a check. Is my pistol held in correctly? Is the flap over the pistol so it's not going to fall out?
Are the magazines secure?
The people with the window and door charges were checking them, starting with the clacker: Is the clacker on correctly? Is it nice and secure?
Then, all the way up, following that line. Is the det on securely? Is the det on securely to the det cord? Is the charge all complete?
Is the respirator on right? Is the seal tight between the respirator and the coveralls? You don't want to start getting gas down you because it hurts. Gas doesn't only affect the breathing system and the eyes; it affects the skin, it stings severely. Are the gloves on tight? If they were baggy, I might have a problem as I went to draw MY Pistol or started manipulating my MP5 or pistol.
Everything was secure. I was holding on to the vehicle, waiting for that "Stand by!" to go.
We heard, "h.e.l.lo, One and One Alpha, move to your holding area, over "One, One Alpha, roger that, out."
The helicopters were starting to go up; within the forward control room the senior policeman must have been a bit concerned about what was going on. He hadn't handed over control, but he was saying: "Get the helis up to save time, so at least once they're in the holding area we can start running them in."
At the same time all the snipers were coming on the net.
"h.e.l.lo, Alpha, this is Sierra One. That's still more shouting.
Still more movement. It seems now there's movement on Two-Two, the window above. Can't identify anyone; it's just movement. I can see the window and the curtains moving. There's a face at the windowcan't identify it, over."
"Yep, roger that."
Blokes were pulling out flashbangs from their ops waistcoats; as we were going in, just as we were approaching the place, we'd start throwing them to produce distraction and confusion-the more the better.
We wanted to disorientate and scare these guys.
All the engines were running. Everybody was just waiting for the go.
And still we had more hollering and shouting; the snipers were bringing in more information.
The negotiators would be working really hard talking to the people inside the building-if they still had comms with them, that is, and these people wanted to talk. They'd be talking to them and at the same time they'd be giving messages in siga language to everybody around them in the main incident room.
For us on the Range Rovers, it was just a question of sitting there in the wagons twenty seconds away, out of I sight. n.o.body was doing anything; we weren't talking, y because we had our respirators on.
I sat back and put my head clown, listening to what was going on.
I didn't want to waste energy. I just slumped. I had my weapon strapped over me; I was weighed down with kit; it would have been pointless running around. We couldn't hear what the negotiators were saying, but I knew they would have been trying to calm the situation down. There was no way that C.O.B.R were going to let them talk with their people in Parkhurst.
"Alpha, Sierra One, that's the X ray back in White One-One, window and curtains closed."
"Alpha."
The deadline had pa.s.sed. The negotiators were doing their bit; the chief constable must have been satisfied that the threat to kill two hostages at 3:00 P.m. had been successfully avoided.
"h.e.l.lo, all call signs, this is Alpha One-stand down the I.A.
Stand down the I.A. All call signs acknowledge."
We all acknowledged the Boss and took our respirators off and made our weapons safe-an unload followed by a load, without putting a round in the chamber.
We drove back with the police escort and watched the heli teams walk back to the briefing room.
The place looked completely different. By now all the intelligence collation and signals equipment was on-line.
There were more pictures and plans of the building plus information on the wiring, sewage pipes, ventilation systems-more intelligence than You could shake a stick at.
Also there were a number of photos of one of the terrorists, taken by the technical teams of the Home Office. Now we had our second terrorist, called X ray Two, and a picture, There was nothing high-tech about the scene, just boards with things stuck on with pins, masking tape, magiboards with magnets to hold bits up. It was a very fluid situation; we had to be able to pull information off and replace it quickly.
Each of us had a white paper cup of hot tea in our hands as we went over to the briefing area where the Blue team were waiting. The slime were going to give everyone an update.
"The situation so far is, the negotiators are trying to get three of the Yankees exchanged for food. These are one sixty-five-year-old employee, the gardener and his two grandchildren, aged six and nine.
Pictures are now starting to arrive of some of the Yankees; as soon as we get them, I'll put them on the board with a description if possible.
"As you know we now have an X ray Two. He is a male, approximately six foot two and fifteen stone.
There is no new deadline as yet and no more info apart from what is on the boards. Any questions?"
The squadron O.C then took over.
"The Red team is to stay on standby for the I.A until oh-six-hundred hours. Orders for the team changeover will be at oh-five-thirty. Any questions?"
"What are the feeding arrangements?" Fat Boy asked.
I smiled. So what's new? I thought.
Everyone looked at the SQMS.
"There will be a container meal arriving at nineteen hundred hours, and from then on the police will take over. As soon as I know more, I'll post it on the board. I'll make sure the tea urns are filled. Try to save the paper cups; use your own mugs if you can."
We filed out of the briefing room, throwing our paper cups into the black bin liners that the SQMS and his storeman had been putting up everywhere.
There was background noise of ringing phones and the amplified voices of the snipers sending back information, relayed through loudspeakers so that everyone could hear what was happening. There was a general buzz of people talking to one another and into phones and radios, and the noise and echo of others moving and setting up more equipment. It was still cold inside the building; there was localized heat as some heaters were now on, but I could still see my breath.
The admin area next door had changed also. The Red team had got their camp beds out and started to place their body armor and belt kits next to them; then the books and Walkmans were coming out. As NWe were the I.A, no kit came off apart from our MP5s and respiratorsI got a camp bed, unrolled my sleeping bag, but decided it was too early to sleep.
I went outside between the two rooms and saw a couple of the Blue team talking with two policemen who were part of a cordon to stop people coming into our area.
"It's great for the overtime," one of the policemen was saying.
He started to talk about the miners' strike.
"There was one force that had their own T-shirts printed with the message 'A.S.P.O.M.-Arthur Scargill Pays Our Mortgages."' I went into the briefing area to see what was going on.
The squadron O.C was on the net to Sierra Two, who was tucked away in his OP, watching the front and right-hand side of the building.
"From your position could you get gas into White Three-Two, over?"
Sierra Two said, "Wait." He'd want to take another look before committing himself.
"Alpha One, Sierra Two-yep, I can do that if I move twenty meters left before the standby, over."
"Roger that, out to you. h.e.l.lo, Sierra One, what's the cover like from you to the rear fire escape, over?"
"Sierra One, ' there is dead ground up to about sixty meters short of the fire escape. However, I haven't been there, over."
"Alpha One, roger that. There will be someone down on your position soon, and they will have a look. Out.
He was busy planning a number of deliberate options covering day, night, covert, and overt situations. These options would have to be ready for when C.O.B.R had tu had enough or the si ation had deteriorated to the extent that the police handed the incident over. Planning for the deliberate attack could involve anything from an elaborate model being made up for us to look at to just loads of floor plans and masking tape put out on the ground to represent the area. We would walk and talk through everything. Sitting in were both teams' 2i/cs and their ruperts; they were all part of the planning process.
The team 2i/cs, the senior noncommiss oned ranks, were there because of their experience; the team ruperts were there to suck them dry of information-to learn, as well as be part of an operational squadron.
One day one of them would be in the squadron O.C's seat-a fearsome responsibility.
The Regiment didn't need troop commanders; in 7 Troop we didn't have a troop commander for years. A troop ran itself under its senior NCO. However, what was needed was squadron commanders, a squadron HQ element. With troops dotted all around the world, somebody was needed who knew where they were and what they required. One of the troop commanders was one day going to be the squadron commander, so it was in everybody's interests to make sure we trained them up well.