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  John Mannion served a total of five years in the Police Service and seventeen years in the UK Armed Forces. Much of his military service was in a joint service, multinational environment, both in the UK and overseas. He was attached to the Intelligence Community for six years. An enthusiastic traveler, he is married with one daughter and one son.

  This book is dedicated to the men and women of the Armed Forces, the Law Enforcement community and the Intelligence and Security Services.

  A donation will be made, from royalties received by the author, to the UK Armed Forces Charity ‘Help for Heroes’.

  JOHN MANNION

  CENTURY OF JIHAD

  The UK is under sustained attack from Islamic extremists. Jihadists bomb the London underground network; bomb a London nightclub; hold the nation hostage by attacking its nuclear power generating facilities, then unleash wholesale slaughter onto the streets of Oxford. Individuals and the nation’s security forces are left to deal with the consequences.

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are entirely fictitious and any similarity between them and actual characters or events is entirely coincidental.

  With many thanks to Terri, Lara, Paul, Matt and Anna.

  ‘Civilisation is face to face with militant Mohammedanism. When we reflect on the moral and material forces arrayed, there need be no fear of the ultimate issue, but the longer the policy of half measures is adhered to, the more distant the end of the struggle will be.’

  Winston Churchill, 1897

  CHAPTER 1

  1905, Monday December 6th. The London Underground train departed Regent’s Park Underground Station and was gathering speed on its way to Oxford Circus. Then a flash. Bright orange. An almighty bang. Suddenly, all was still. All was black.

  The blast from the explosion sent forth a multitude of ball bearings. Steel balls, like several hundred bullets in a single moment, seared into flesh causing numerous horrific injuries to many of the passengers – those not killed outright – who were crowded into the first carriage of the London Underground train.

  Glass, body parts and other objects, which had moments earlier been part of the structure of the train, or worn or carried by its passengers, were sent flying with great force and speed through the metal tube structure. A large hole in the floor of the carriage marked the seat of the explosion. The carriage wall had been torn open. Glass and metal had been thrown out by the force of the blast hitting the tunnel wall before flying back into the torn carriage and its hapless occupants. The bomber and twelve innocent souls died instantly in that narrow dark tunnel.

  A moment of stunned silence. People were rooted to the spot. The survivors strained, listening for any sound in the total darkness that enveloped them. Coming to terms with the unimaginable horror that had come into their lives. Their breath momentarily taken away by the force of the blast. Many had felt objects clipping them in the darkness. Trying to stay calm.

  Then there was screaming, moans from the injured, sobs from shock and incomprehension which broke the tomb-like silence. There was choking. Lots of choking. Survivors trying to breathe as the carriage filled with thick black dust. Some survivors would later describe it as black, acrid oily smoke. A sense of panic in individuals as they struggled to breathe. Battling to remain calm. The smell of smoke. Wondering how, and if, they were going to get out or if they were going to suffocate or burn alive.

  With the help of the emergency lighting, the survivors could comprehend a little of their situation; the carnage that was all around. Then some relief – air started to pour into the carriage through the broken windows. The artificial light captured a horrific scene. Shattered windows. Charred and mangled metal. Twisted and torn white-faced bodies – some alive, some dead. Some the light could not identify either way. There was blood everywhere. Dust in the air was caught in the light like dancing insects, making the whole scene appear like some horrific nightmare. The shock and disbelief on the faces of the survivors. The dishevelled, bloody appearance of all. The look of pain on the faces of the injured. All was picked out in the dim artificial light.

  Some of the passengers cautiously stood up, checking themselves over apprehensively. They started to organise themselves, look for a way out of the wreckage, assist fellow passengers who had sustained more serious injuries, and comfort those who were dying. Some died quickly from injuries to their lungs, diaphragm and ribcage. Many of the injured and dead were horribly mutilated, suffering multiple injuries. Standing a few inches to the left or right had meant the difference between life and death.

  Sergeant Dave Price, aged 38, a seasoned veteran with fifteen years service in the British Transport Police, was one of the survivors of the carnage. He had been travelling on the train as a passenger. During his time with the Transport Police he had attended many tragic and horrific incidents.

  He stood up and surveyed the scene around him then cleared his throat. Maintaining a calm and steady tone in his voice, he announced:

  ‘Everybody, listen in. I am a Police Officer. Please everyone stay calm. I need a few minutes to assess the situation; to ensure your safety.’

  On hearing this voice of authority there was a moment of tangible relief among the survivors, but then the questions began.

  ‘Is help on the way?’

  ‘Do you think anyone knows what has happened down here?’

  ‘Is there any danger of fire?’

  In reply to these questions, Dave could only respond:

  ‘Everything will be OK. Help is on its way. Now please stay calm. Those of you who aren’t injured please assist, where possible, those less fortunate. I am going to assess our situation.’

  With that Dave cautiously made his way forward in the carriage, stepping over bodies and debris in the dim light. He stood at the hole in the wall of the carriage and carefully, gripping the edges of the torn metal, looked out of the shattered shell into the darkness. He couldn’t be absolutely sure if the power was off but rationalised that emergency procedures would have been activated so was reasonably confident that it would be. Cautiously stepping down from the carriage onto the tunnel floor, he made his way to the front of the train. Turning round he looked back at the wreckage of the crowded underground train in the dim light. The horror of the scene left him transfixed for a moment. He pulled himself out of this state of shock and made his way back into the carriage. Once more he paused to take stock of the scene around him. Dave knew he could not assess the situation in the remaining, equally crowded carriages, nor provide significant assistance to the people in them. His gut instinct was to stay put and tend to the injured until help arrived. However he was aware that some of the uninjured or walking wounded were less than comfortable in their present claustrophobic surroundings and that this would be equally true further down the train. He felt that, even if he could prevent people from decamping from the first carriage, people in the other carriages would almost certainly start to leave the crippled train. Dave was only too aware of the danger these passengers could be placing themselves in.

  ‘OK everyone, please listen. I strongly advise that you should all remain on board until the rescue teams arrive, which will be soon. However, I am aware that passengers in other carriages may decide not to wait for help and may well decide to make their own way to safety. I am going to make my way down the tunnel and, in an attempt to alleviate some of the danger, escort those who are determined to leave the train back to Regent’s Park underground station. I would ask you all to remain here, to tend the wounded and await the arrival of the rescue teams. However, those of you who insist on leaving may accompany me.’

  Dave paused. There were groans from the wounded, mixed in with chatter and shouts of, ‘I
want to get out of here!’

  Dave felt concern for the injured he was about to leave behind but, equally, he felt a responsibility for the others who were feeling serious discomfort and a growing claustrophobia in the shattered shell of the train. ‘OK. I am going to leave now and see if I can offer assistance to other passengers on the train and lead them to safety where necessary.

  ‘I will ensure help is with those of you who remain as soon as possible. I will return with the rescue team.’

  With that Dave and the uninjured and walking wounded who could bear the situation no more, slowly, carefully, started to leave the crippled train. Through jagged metal they decamped into the dimly lit tunnel, following in Dave’s footsteps between the train wreck and the wall of the tunnel. They made their way, encountering passengers from the other carriages who had decided to make their own way to safety. As he proceeded down the length of the train, Dave imparted the same advice he had minutes before given the passengers in the first carriage. Still more survivors joined him in the tunnel. They now walked, in the semi-darkness, in single file between the tracks, praying that the electricity supply had been shut off and hoping that no other train would come hurtling down the track.

  The alarm was raised by underground staff and members of the public almost simultaneously, at Scotland Yard, the location of the Metropolitan Police Control Centre and in the control rooms of London Transport, the British Transport Police, London Fire Brigade and London Ambulance Service. The circumstances, nature and extent of the incident were as yet unclear. Calls coming in from the public were desperate and sometimes confused, but all were reporting loud bangs and clouds of thick black smoke billowing out of the tunnel at Regent’s Park Underground Station.

  Fire, Police and Ambulance Services immediately despatched manpower and equipment to the station. All London hospitals were put on alert to receive an unknown number of casualties. Major Incident emergency medical teams began deployment to the scene of the incident.

  ‘Gold Command’ was established at the Scotland Yard Control Centre. From here all emergency service operations would be directed and controlled. British Transport Police mobile units were the first of the emergency services to arrive at Regent’s Park Underground Station. These officers, together with colleagues from the Metropolitan Police, set up a forward command post outside the entrance to the underground station on the busy Marylebone Road, which was now being closed off to traffic. The Forward Command Post would co-ordinate the rescue effort of the emergency services at the scene, all of whom were now preparing to mount a rescue operation into the darkness.

  It was thirty minutes before the advance rescue team, made up of police, fire and ambulance crews, supported by doctors and nurses from various London hospitals and London Underground staff, started to make its way along the dark, damp tunnel. The rescuers had to suppress concerns for their own safety. This advance party, led by Inspector Alistair Thompson of the British Transport Police, bore a tremendous responsibility. Upon them lay not only the safety and initial treatment of the passengers. It was also their responsibility to assess the situation and request the appropriate resources which would be necessary at the scene of the incident. No sooner had the rescuers entered the tunnel than they heard voices; at first faint and muffled, gradually growing louder. Then ahead of them, emerging out of the darkness, at first as ghostly shadows, came a group of survivors.

  Shortly after leaving the train wreck, although it felt longer, the survivors saw the flashes of torchlight up ahead and were soon in the company of the rescue party. Among the dishevelled survivors, most suffering physical injuries and shock, there was a sense of relief at seeing this first sign of safety. Some burst into tears, some reached out to members of the rescue party as much for reassurance as for physical assistance. Others just stared ahead with vacant looks on their faces. A few of the rescuers accompanied the survivors for the remaining part of their trek back to Regent’s Park Station, the nearest place of safety. The remaining members of the rescue party, accompanied by Dave Price, who remained good to his word, resumed their journey down the tunnel towards the seat of the disaster.

  As the rescuers neared the scene they could pick out, in the dim glow of the emergency lighting and from the arching light thrown from their torches, the first surreal glimpse of the torn metal structure. They could hear the muffled noises of survivors still trapped in the wreckage. There was the eerie sound of the groaning of twisted metal. Some of the rescuers took a moment to pause, to take in the scene and to brace themselves for what horrors lay ahead of them.

  On reaching the safety of the underground station, the survivors came upon a hectic scene of activity. Organised chaos! Emergency services were assembling to mount a full scale rescue operation. The survivors were weary after their ordeal. They were filthy and in shock, tearful at reaching safety. Their mouths were dry and their lungs full of choking tunnel dust. Some of the injured staggered, blood streaming from their faces. There were burnt faces; others with open wounds. The survivors were ushered through the throng on the station platform to two large lifts which took them to the station lobby. From there they were taken up steps and ramps to the surface and to the waiting rescue teams and ambulances gathering at the entrance to the underground station. Those with the most serious injuries were evacuated immediately to hospital. Many lives would be saved by the skill and dedication of the paramedics on this desperate journey.

  Prior to being sent home or on to hospital, those with less serious injuries were treated by paramedics and hospital staff by the roadside, in the backs of ambulances, or in other emergency facilities which had been set up in the immediate aftermath of the incident on the, now traffic-free, Marylebone Road. All were screened, with personal details being recorded by police officers at the scene.

  The rescue team at the scene of the incident clambered into the wreckage, losing their footing, cutting hands and tearing clothing as they did so. Inspector Thompson took stock of the scene, assessed the situation, issued instructions and organised his team as all around people groaned and sobbed. In his eighteen years in the Transport Police the forty-year-old had never come across such carnage.

  Sergeant Price looked upon the scene he had returned to and noted that a number of people had stayed behind to tend the wounded. He knew that some were probably relatives or friends of the injured, but others would be those selfless souls to be found in any crisis,who were always ready to lend a helping hand to others in their time of need.

  The rescuers made their way through the carriage, assessing the injured, pushing and ripping aside debris, all the while prioritising the injured for treatment and evacuation from the scene. The rescuers were themselves soon covered in grime and blood. The conditions were grim. The atmosphere was claustrophobic. The heat was stifling and the air was thick with smoke. Some pleas for help fell upon deaf ears – if the injured could speak they were likely to be in a less critical state than the silent soul next to them. Sergeant Price told one man to ‘Snap out of it! Take deep breaths!’ in an effort to help him re-engage his brain. The dead and injured had injuries caused by flying objects, by being thrown around inside the carriages of the train and internal injuries. One man had injuries caused by shrapnel that had torn through his face, jaw and neck; another a piece of metal embedded in his skull. A woman had a hand missing. Others had blood coming from the ears and nose. All were still in a state of shock.

  While the survivors were being treated for their injuries, a doctor silently made his way through the wreck, examining the still and silent bodies, pronouncing life extinct.

  For the remaining survivors found in the wreckage, the arrival of the rescue teams brought hope that an end to their horror was in sight. Many of the survivors and their rescuers would be left mentally scarred by what they witnessed at the scene of the conflagration. Many more – families, friends, colleagues and acquaintances of the deceased and those saved – would also find their lives affected by the events in that undergroun
d tunnel.

  The scene at emergency departments of several of the London hospitals receiving casualties from the incident, was reminiscent of a battlefield. Full of bleeding, broken people – some staggering about, others lying in corridors. There was pandemonium as doctors, nurses and paramedics struggled to deal with the casualties. Reception staff struggled to cope with the numbers arriving and management fought to ensure resources were available to handle the overwhelming situation referring, on occasion, to operations manuals covering such emergencies but finding the reality very different from planning meetings and exercises. Young medics and nursing staff, some not long out of training, found the numbers and extent of the injuries overwhelming at times and had to be supported in their lifesaving endeavours by older, more experienced team members. There were individuals suffering from shock and lacerations and those with severe head, chest, stomach and limb injuries, all needing different levels of attention from the dedicated carers in whose hands the victims’ very lives now depended.

  Many heroes emerged that day – in the emergency services, in the hospitals and amongst the general population. What none could have dreamt, however, was that in the weeks and months to come even greater horror lay ahead.

  CHAPTER 2

  The investigation began with the assembling of the usual teams to be found in the aftermath of any major incident of this kind– Accident Investigators, Police Detectives, Police Photographers, Scene of Crime Officers, Forensics Officers. However, it was quickly established from evidence at the scene, and from interviews with survivors, that this was an incident involving an explosion. Into the mix, therefore, came Counter Terrorism Officers from the Metropolitan Police and their colleagues from the Security Service, often referred to as MI5.