‘All right then,’ he said. ‘Unless you’ve been living in a hole — which, looking at the state of some of you, wouldn’t surprise me — you’ll know what’s been happening. Coordinated terror attacks, London, Paris, Washington, Mumbai. Latest estimate, 486 dead.’ If the statistic appalled him, he didn’t show it, but you could have heard a pin drop in the room. ‘It seems the agencies have suspected a major hit like this for some time, but they’ve had their eyes firmly set towards AQ. Turns out they were looking the wrong way. Our combustible friends were Palestinian. Members of a militant group from the Gaza Strip called the UFP — the Union for Free Palestine. There are any number of these Mickey Mouse outfits along the Gaza Strip. Two or three disaffected Palestinian kids get together with a balaclava and a Kalashnikov and suddenly they think they’re a movement. The UFP is a little bigger than most.’
A voice from the back of the room. ‘Don’t these cunts normally just blow themselves up outside cafes in Jerusalem, boss?’
O’Donoghue nodded. ‘Normally. That or Tel Aviv. These attacks are out of character. More to the point, the terrorists were well equipped and well organised. SIS are trying to establish if anyone else is involved, but at the moment that’s secondary to the political instability in the region.’
The ops officer pressed a button on the laptop and a map of the Middle East appeared on the wall.
‘The political leadership in the Gaza Strip is Hamas. A former terrorist organisation and not internationally recognised, but popular in the Gaza Strip because they stand up to Israel. The UFP claim loyalty to them. The international community have called on Hamas to denounce the bombings. So far they’ve failed to do so.’
Luke raised a hand.
‘What is it, Luke?’
‘You said the bombers were well equipped, boss. Do we think Hamas actually supplied them, or were they working on their own?’
O’Donoghue looked over towards the SIS guys. One of them leaned forward slightly in his chair. ‘At the moment,’ he said, ‘it’s hard to say. We found the remains of a weapon in the wreckage of the UK train, an’ — he consulted some notes on his lap — ‘an AKS-74U. We checked its serial number and it seems consistent with a consignment of weapons handed in as part of an amnesty at the end of the Balkan conflict. The company given the contract to collect and destroy the weapons is a subsidiary of an American multinational, the Grosvenor Group. Looks like they fulfilled one half of the contract and not the other. We’ve passed this information on to the CIA. But it seems unlikely that the Grosvenor Group would have direct dealings with Hamas, so our working theory is that the bombers were acting independently.’ The spook settled back in his chair and looked back towards the ops officer.
‘It’s not yet public knowledge,’ O’Donoghue continued, ‘but the decision has been made to commit four British Army battalions to the region. The Yanks are going in heavy, and the government wants to be seen to be supporting them.’
‘Sounds familiar,’ someone murmured.
O’Donoghue’s eyes flickered towards the Foreign Office representative, and although he said nothing, it was clear Duncan felt as negative about tagging along with the Americans as everyone else in the room. They’d done that once before, and everyone there had mates who’d died in Iraq.
The FO man clearly realised that the mood in the room had changed, so he stood up and inclined his head towards the ops officer, as if to ask if he might say a few words. O’Donoghue nodded, and the suit cleared his throat. ‘Gentlemen,’ he said in a reedy voice, ‘let us not mince our words. If it transpires that Hamas are indeed behind the needless slaughter of innocent British citizens, it will be the obligation of this government to strike back. I can assure you that our allies in America and elsewhere feel the same. It is likely, of course, that a strike against Gaza will be viewed as an act of aggression by other Muslim nations in the region — I’m thinking principally of Iran, who have voiced support for Hamas before now — and I don’t believe you need to be instructed in the implications of that.’
He looked around the room, scanning each man in turn. The members of B Squadron stared at him stony-faced.
‘So,’ he continued briskly, ‘if any of you feel at all uncomfortable about operating in that part of the world, I would advise you to start getting used to it. History tells us that events such as this follow a critical path. Unless something is done to bring about a swift resolution, we could be on the brink.’
He turned back to O’Donoghue, nodded and retook his seat.
The ops officer looked slightly taken aback by the FO man’s interruption, but he continued in the same matter-of-fact voice as before.
‘Alistair Stratton,’ he announced, ‘is to travel to Gaza in his capacity as Middle East peace envoy.’