Okay, I have finally plucked up the courage to put the book online although this does make me a little nervous. I was going to put the synopsis on but I thought it would give the plot away too much so people would bother reading. I am in the current process of a fifth rewrite and it’s pretty hard going. So without further ado here is the prologue and first two chapters, and I hope to be posting new ones often. I would like comment off all of you good or bad it doesn’t matter.

The Angel Committee by Jason Chapman
Prologue

West Hendred.
Surrey. England. 1:34am GMT
As the old man stared into the black void, his eyes slowly adjusted to the lack of light. He could just about make out the luminous red digits on the alarm clock on the table at the other side of the bedroom.
Next to him his wife stirred, turning restlessly and pulling the duvet tightly over her. ‘Who’s that this time of night?’ she grumbled sleepily.
The old man lay in bed for several seconds pondering his wife’s question. Eventually he hauled his tired old body out of bed. There was no mistake; someone was definitely knocking on the front door.
Scraping the sleep from his eyes he climbed into his slippers and made his way out of the bedroom and down the large staircase, muttering to himself.
Through the darkness the man could see that the security light in the driveway had been activated. A shadowy figure stood out through the stained glass window on the heavy oak door of the house. A small video monitor above the door revealed the mystery caller.
The old man wrenched the door open to find a man standing on the doorstep. He wore an army green jumper cut off by a green belt, and camouflaged trousers, which were cut off by immaculately polished black boots. The man saluted without hesitancy.
A green metallic Range Rover stood in the illuminated driveway with its engine running. The old man glanced quickly at the dark figure sat in the driver’s seat. He looked back at the man stood in front of him. The beige beret that the younger man wore, displayed the unmistakable winged dagger, with the words WHO DARES WINS.

Highclere House.
Surrey. 2:29am GMT
Lord William Chambers swaggered down the stairs yawning like an old dog, scratching his head. His grey hair sprayed outwards, angrily like seaweed in a strong current of an incoming tide. Pulling the belt on his robe tight the old man swore under his breath, as he descended into the darkened hallway.
The doorbell had sounded several times before Chambers had bothered to climb out of bed. He was less than amused at the time of his mystery callers, and added to that, the sound of the doorbell had turned into an urgent banging on the door. ‘All right, I’m bloody coming!’ Chambers growled as he got to the door. He yanked it open viciously, the knocker clapped on the door as it swung open. The old man found himself confronted by three men standing in the driveway, the security light’s beam flooding the immediate area. A metallic green Range Rover stood motionlessly in the drive. Chambers shivered as a cold October wind enveloped him.
Two of the men were dressed in army attire. One of them was clutching a lap top computer. They saluted Chambers immediately.
The other man was dressed in a tweed jacket with a brown and white pullover underneath. He wore a pair of chequered trousers cut off at the knees by a pair of tall black riding boots. ‘Good morning William,’ the smartly dressed man greeted politely.
‘Good morning, eh!’ Chambers rumbled. ‘I’d swear it was the middle of the bloody night?’
Sir Charles Thornton stepped forward ‘Yes well I’m sorry to call you at this late hour William’ Thornton Paused before continuing, ‘I’m afraid there’s been an angel type incident in our airspace’
Chambers stepped back taking a short breath. ‘Good god’ he replied. ‘Civilian or military’
Thornton’s face was grey and gaunt when he replied. ‘I’m afraid it’s civilian, we’re not sure just how many but we know we’re dealing with a substantial loss’
Chambers ushered the men inside and walked side by side with Thornton down a long impressive hallway. ‘I take it the committee members have been summoned?’
Thornton Nodded. ‘Yes, all except Gerald he’s about to inform the Prime Minister’
Chambers took another deep breath and nodded. ‘What’s the fallout likely to be over this?’
‘We have no idea of knowing just yet, but then again we are in uncharted waters here. We could be looking at minimal panic or we could be dealing with a nationwide witch hunt. Sir Bernard is about to set the media ball rolling so to speak’
Chambers nodded. ‘I guess we have some difficult decisions to make my old friend’

Downing Street
Central London 2:47am GMT
From under the covers a tired arm reached out for the ringing telephone on the bedside cabernet.
‘Yes what is it?’
There was a brief silence before the voice on the other end spoke. ‘I’m sorry to wake you Prime Minister, I’m afraid I have some grave news for you’
‘Go on’ The Prime Minister replied swallowing hard.
Another short pause. ‘There’s been an incident in UK airspace involving a civilian airliner, and it looks like the worst case scenario sir’
The tired man closed his eyes in silent prayer, he opened them again. ‘Wake the senior members of the cabinet, we meet within the hour’ He ordered.

Part 1 The Bombing of European Airlines Flight 113.

Chapter 1

Highclare House
Surrey 3:42am GMT
The monotonous ticking of the impressive looking grandfather clock seemed deafening in Lord Chambers’ study. A splendidly decorated and furnished room which was the focal point of the 16th century built manner house, surrounded by immaculately kept gardens and also used as a backdrop in a number of TV period dramas.
Chambers stared at a painting depicting the Battle of Trafalgar. He sipped from his glass and turned to face the six other men who had gathered in the room. ‘Gentlemen’ He said aloud. ‘It seems the moment we have been dreading for the past 56 years has finally arrived’
The other men in the room glanced at each other nodding solemnly.
Chambers took a deep breath and continued. ‘I appreciate that some of you may have doubts on how we should continue’
Again silent nodding.
‘But we must all be together on this, it is imperative that we maintain full control on the situation’ He turned to a well built man sat on one of the three huge sofas in the study’ ‘Bernard, is everything in place regarding the media’
Sir Bernard Cleese nodded. ‘Yes’ He looked at his watch. ‘In less than an hour news should start filtering through to the various news agencies, although we are already getting reports of witnesses but no one will move until official confirmation’
Chambers gave a satisfied nod. ‘What about the details regarding the airliner?’ he asked turning to Thornton.
‘We know she was part of the European Airlines fleet, flying holiday makers to places like Spain, Italy and other European destinations. Call sign EA 113, she was a standard Airbus A319 aircraft. We’re not sure whether she was full to capacity. Her flight was behind schedule due to the Air Traffic control dispute in Spain. She was flying from Madrid, but she was diverted to flying in from the Irish see due to some technical hitch at ATC Liverpool airport’
‘Okay, what about other measures?’ he said to a thin looking man sat behind an impressive reading desk’
‘We have dispatched an Angel search and recovery team from Hereford, they should be on location within the hour’ The man paused before continuing. ‘I was also contacted by General Stacy at NORAD on route here, he wants to know our position in this’
‘Contact General Stacy and inform him that our position is full containment’ He looked at the clock. ‘Gerald will join us after the emergency cabinet meeting with the Prime Minister’ Chambers scanned the room slowly, making eye contact with everyone. ‘Gentlemen, we have some dark days ahead of us. I’m sure this incident will escalate and could turn very ugly. But we must remind ourselves that we all made a decision seven years ago to go down this path, should such an incident happen’ He then turned to a picture above the reading desk and raised his glass. ‘This is what he predicted so we must follow his wisdom and guidance’ All seven men raised their glasses to the picture of Sir Winston Churchill.

Chapter 2

Cabinet Room
10 Downing Street. 3:52am GMT
The ten men and one woman sat silently in the cabinet room whilst refreshments were being served by a tired looking butler, who wasn’t too amused at being dragged out of bed to dish out tea and bloody biscuits.
Once he had left the room the Prime Minister gave the cabinet members sat around the boat shaped table a quick scan before he started to speak. ‘Thank you all for coming her on such short notice’ He sat hunched forward his hands clasped with fingers interlocking. ‘Although I am saddened to be gathered around this table for such a grave reason’ He looked up at Gerald Thorpe who was stood by a large bookcase in the corner of the room. ‘Gerald Thorpe is here to brief us on tragic and disturbing events that have taken place in the early hours of this morning’
All eyes locked firmly on Thorpe who flashed a quick confident smile before he began. ‘What we know so far is that at precisely 1:06am this morning radar contact was lost with European Airlines flight 113 as she prepared to make her final decent into Liverpool airport’ He paused to take a sip of bottled water. ‘At 1:11am after all attempts to re-establish contact with the aircraft had failed the Air Accident Investigation Brach was contacted and emergency procedures immediately swung into action. We believe that she was 23 miles out over open water when contact was lost. Reports of a large explosion are already starting to filter out to the various news agencies’
Deputy Prime Minister Alan Dickens was first to speak. ‘So I guess the question on everyone lips, is this a terrorist attack?’
Thorpe glared at him. ‘We do believe that we could be looking at an attack yes’
A wave of nervous whispers reverberated around the room. The Prime Minister glared at the table top in front of him, ‘I take it we’re dealing with Al Qaeda in this matter’
Thorpe half nodded. ‘We have reason to suspect its the work of Al Qaeda but we are not a hundred percent sure, it could be the work of several break away groups, some which have suspected terror cells in the UK’
Again his words were met by nervous whispers
‘Where was the plane flying from?’ Janet Small the Home Secretary asked.
‘She was flying from Madrid’
The Prime Minister cleared his throat. ‘So this could also be the work of ETA’
Thorpe shook his head. ‘No ETA have no interest in bombing a British commercial airliner. We have contacted the Spanish security forces and they have given us a number of possible suspects’ Thorpe looked down at a folder he was holding. ‘Mohammad’s armies responsible for two suicide attacks last year in Iraq. The Islamic Fundamentalist Movement IFM thought to be behind the murder of two French Aid workers earlier this year in Pakistan. Children of the New Jihad, claimed responsibility for an attack on a US convoy last year in which seven US troops were killed’ He turned over shaking his head. ‘Those three are the only ones the Spanish consider are any plausible threat’
‘Bloody Spanish security’ David Bloor the Defense Secretary seethed. ‘Don’t they have X-ray machines at Madrid Airport?’
‘Well of course they do’ David Mills the foreign secretary snapped. ‘The question is how the hell did they manage to get on board with a bloody bomb?’ Everyone nodded to the question.
The Prime Minister took a deep breath, and looked at Thorpe. ‘How long do we have to move on this?’
‘We have to move immediately I’m afraid, anymore delay could be catastrophic’
The Prime Minister looked across the table at his minister for transport. ‘I want a complete lockdown’
Rosemary Kendel glared at the man opposite her. ‘Surely you can’t be serious, do you have any idea the chaos that would cause? And on a Monday morning’
‘I’m deadly serious’ The Prime Minster snapped back, staring hard at the people sat around the table. ‘Make no mistake ladies and gentlemen the United Kingdom is closed for business until further notice’ He turned to the defense secretary next to him. ‘Scramble the RAF, code Red, Tango Alpha’ The Prime Minister got to his feet, closing his eyes in silent payer. ‘We have some very dark days ahead of us, but I’m sure every one of you will carry out your duties admirably. I want you all to say a silent prayer for all the victims and their families’ A tense silence followed, broken by Downing street staff entering the room. All the other cabinet ministers got to their feet and started to shuffle out of the room. The Prime Minister walked up to his personal secretary. ‘Janet, call the US President’ The woman nodded and turned away. ‘Thank you Mr Thorpe. He said.
Thorpe just nodded and watched as everyone filed out of the room. He then took out his mobile phone and speed dialed. ‘Yes Lord Chambers everything is in place and running like clockwork’

Highclare House
Surrey 4:24am GMT
Chambers put the phone back on the receiver and looked around the room. ‘Gentlemen it has begun’ his words were met by a wall of silence.

BBC Newsroom
Central London 5:13am GMT
Mark Harris gripped the joypad tightly and his body swayed as he handled the tight corners on the classic arcade game Outrun. It had been a long night at the news desk but this particular night had been a bit busier than others. The telephone sprang to life and caused Harris to lose control of the car crashing into a palm tree. ‘Shit’ he seethed to himself. ‘I was on the last level as well’ He threw the joypad to one side and grabbled the phone receiver. ‘Hello, BBC news desk… Oh right you saw it as well did you, we’ve been getting quite a few calls tonight about this… You saw what sorry? Ok, well that’s really interesting.. Where were you at the time?’ Morris scribbled furiously with his pen. ‘Ok well I have all that… yes I will pass the information on, thanks for calling bye now’ He slammed the receiver down.
‘Another phone call about that mystery filreball?’ Another man said as he walked through the doorway.
Morris nodded. ‘Oh yes, but according to this dickhead’ he looked at what he had just scribbled and noted that he had done just that and not written anything down. ‘Whoever he was, he claims to have seen a UFO collide with an airliner’
‘Oh Jesus’ The other man replied shaking his head.
Morris took a deep breath ‘So what do you reckon? that’s over thirty calls now and’ He looked at the computer monitor in front of him. ’19 e-mails we’ve received about this explosion or whatever it is’
The other man just shrugged. ‘I’m clueless, could be anything I mean’ he stopped talking as an attractive young woman entered the room.
‘Well its official’ She said slightly out of breath. ‘Sky News, ITV, CNN have all been getting reports on this so called explosion all night, and I have just got off the phone to The Sun and The Mirror who want to know what the fucks going on’ Both Morris and the young woman looked at their night editor, who rolled his eyes.
‘Okay’ he said taking a deep breath. ‘Wake everyone, we run with this at six’ He pointed a finger at both. ‘But we don’t make this top of the hour, we haven’t got a clue yet what’s going on. Get Maggie to phone the AAIB and the Home office to dig up something’

It's got substance to it and is certainly relevant to current social climate. Good luck with it JC.

Not bad at all.

I'm looking forward to see where this goes.

very good
x

It's looking good keep up the good work

do you guys want to see more?

Yes

Yes please

I wanna c more!!

Ok here we go, I'm keeping the chapters nice and short because I'm not fond of book with lengthy chapters, I do read them, but I much prefer pager turners with short chapters. I'll try and keep the flow going, but I'll prbably on publish one chapter at a time. Enjoy.

Chapter 3

Battersea
Greater London 6:47am GMT

The ringing telephone become louder and louder as Alan Manning started to wake from his deep sleep. He lifted his head from under the duvet cover and squinted blurry eyed at his alarm clock.
His head started to pound as he became more aware of his surroundings, and then the previous night’s events started to flood back into his mind. Bloody Stuart he thought to himself. The night before had been spent down his local pub racing Brandy chasers and making and absolute fool of himself on the karaoke. His friend Stuart was a police pathologist, and a very handy contact for Alan who worked as a journalist for the London Evening Examiner.
The telephone continued to ring and showed no sign of stopping. Stumbling out of bed of his third floor flat Alan made his way to the living room, where he wrenched the phone from the receiver. ’What!’ he seethed rubbing his aching head.
‘Alan’ a booming voice sounded on the other end. ‘What you up to boy?’
‘What do you mean what am I up to? What do you think I’m up to? I’m trying to sleep off a bloody hangover, and getting the first lie in I’ve had in months, because I’m on holiday remember’ Alan continued to rub his aching head.
‘Do me a favour, switch on the TV will you?’ The voice asked, in a strong Welsh accent.
‘What?’ Alan stated.
‘Just turn on the TV!’ the voice now snapped.
Alan surveyed the living room for the remote control, walking over to the armchair he slumped down and pointed the remote at the television. BBC news was in full swing on an airline disaster which occurred in the early hours. Alan flicked channels to ITV who were also covering the same story. Channel 4, Channel 5 and Sky News also had coverage. He continued to flick through the digital news channels there seemed to be a news frenzy concerning events that had unfolded in the middle of the night.
‘Fuck me, this looks bad’
‘Bastard terrorists’ Came the reply. ‘Those dickheads have finally managed to sneak onto one of our planes and blow it up
‘Jesus’
‘Listen, I know you’re on holiday and everything but this is major I need you down at the Home Office by 8:30’
Alan continued to rub his head, not one hundred percent sure he was actually awake. ‘8:30’ He replied. ‘I know this is huge and everything but can’t Ben cover it, I’ll gladly come in and help out and all that…’ He was cut off.
‘Alan!’ his editor boomed. ‘Look at the fucking news will you! They’ve closed everything, no tubes or buses running in London anywhere, all major train services have been suspended, they’ve grounded all flights in every airport in the country, and stopped all incoming flights, the country is in full lockdown’
A sense of fear now started to well up from the pit of Alan’s stomach as he watched the news. Everything had been closed off and live pictures from different Parts of the capital were already starting to show people looking at information boards with cancellation notices on them. London Paddington and Waterloo. People were being advised to take the day off if they had no means of getting into work. An AA spokesman gloomily predicted gridlock across the country on the BBC news.
His editor on the other end started to speak again. ‘Ben doesn’t even ride a bike to work, you do which I why I need you down at the Home Office. It’s the only means of transport anyone is going to use today’
Alan nodded.’ ‘Ok, I’ll get down there for 8:30’ He paused before continuing. ‘What does all this mean, are we still under attack or what?’
‘I don’t know’ came the reply. ‘This is way bigger than July 2005, this is 9/11 stuff, and it could get worse’
Alan nodded and said his goodbyes; he put the phone down and for several minutes stared at the TV screen, flicking channels.

Central London
8:09am GMT

The journey into London was chaotic, although Alan was a skilled cyclist he found himself in a sea of other cyclists, most of whom never rode their bikes on a regular basis. Despite his sore head, Alan was faring much better than those who were totally unprepared for riding their bikes that morning. People who usually took the tube into central London wobbled clumsily along the streets, often having to stop to take a breather. Alan couldn’t help but laugh at the amount of cyclists in suits heading for the financial district, as they unsteadily made their through the gridlocked traffic. The sound of car horns constantly sounded and was mixed with angry voices shouting at cyclists who clumsily bashed against the side of cars. The city was in the midst of a complete meltdown
Before he left his flat Alan made a point of phoning his mother who lived in his home town of Hereford, who constantly worried about him living in the Big City, and would have preferred it if he had stayed at the Hereford Times. But Alan was very ambitious and yearned for a life in the hustle and bustle of the Nation’s capital. So when the opportunity of a job came up Alan jumped at the chance. He assured his mother that everything was fine, despite her worrying about the events that were unfolding.
After going through a number of security blockades that had been hastily constructed around Whitehall Alan made his way to the Home Office.

still lovin it

Chapter 4

The Home office
Central London 8:19am GMT

George Buryman stared at the document in front of him. He took a deep breath shaking his head slowly. His palms felt sweaty and a sickly sensation had lingered in his stomach all morning.
There was a knock on the door of the small private office. ‘Come in’ He beckoned.
Gerald Thorpe entered the room and walked up to the desk, looking at his watch. ‘Just wanted to let you know Prime Minister we have just over ten minutes’
‘I’m well aware of the time thank you Gerald’ The Prime Minister responded with an air of sarcasm.
‘Very well I just wanted to know how you’re feeling at this point’ Thorpe said.
The Prime Minister glared at the other man. ‘How do you think I’m feeling’ He hissed. ‘I’m about to tell the country we’re under attack, and yet my chief security adviser still isn’t still one hundred percent sure that plane was destroyed by a bomb’
Thorpe produced a file he had under his arm and opened it out in front of the Prime Minister. ‘Actually we have just had these pictures wired to us by the Spanish authorities, taken at Madrid airport’
The Prime Minister squinted at the security camera picture and pointed. ‘And you believe this is our possible bomber?’
‘Yes’
Buryman glared at his chief security advisor. ‘Are you and all of MI6 really that paranoid? This could be a picture of anybody’
Thorpe took a deep breath. ‘Prime Minster, you must understand that we cannot afford to be complacent given the current climate. Intelligence has revealed Al Qaeda have been moving operatives through Europe for months’
‘Yes I’m well aware of this Gerald, and as you have just pointed out given the current climate we cannot afford to be off our guard, but you must also remember there’s a flip side to the coin’ He gestured towards the photograph. ‘We cannot afford to accuse every Asian person who gets on a plane’
Thorpe looked at his watch, taking a deep breath.
The Prime Minister continued to look at the picture. ‘So how long will it take to confirm if he’s our bomber?’
‘We should know within the next three hours. Spanish security will go over the passport details he used to check in with’
The Prime Minister nervously stroked his chin, pondering the moment. ‘So we should have more to say later today’
Thorpe nodded.
At that moment the door opened and the Transport Minister thundered in glaring at Thorpe. ‘What the bloody hell is this?’ Rosemary Kendal ranted as she threw a folder onto the desk in front of the Prime Minister.
Thorpe glanced down at it.
‘All UK airports cannot be shut down for more than twenty four hours, what you’re suggesting here is bloody ludicrous’
The prime Minister opened the folder and studied it for a few seconds, before shaking his head rigorously. ‘I’m not agreeing to this, Rose is right the maximum we can allow planes grounded for is twenty four hours, and I want a full review of that this afternoon. We have to open the airports back up as soon as possible’
Thorpe took a deep breath. ‘With all due respect Prime Minister, we don’t have time to debate this right now’ He said gersturing at the time.
‘Oh yes we do Gerald’ The Prime Minister pointed towards the door, ‘I’ll be buggered if I’m going out there and telling the British public there will be no flights in and out for thirty six hours. It either twenty four and a review this afternoon or nothing at all’
‘And if there are more planes on the way?’ Thorpe questioned.
‘I think we can safely say that the whole world is waking up to this now. Whoever is behind this one attack will know and will have to abort any further incursions. Now what I want you to do today is to find out how this idiot got on board a plane with a bomb, and I want a full report by five this afternoon do you hear me?’
Thorpe didn’t even flinch. ‘Very well twenty four hours, but as far as a review is concerned we must hold off until we have more information on who’s behind this attack, I think this is a fair compromise’
The Prime Minister and transport minister threw each other uneasy glances. Thorpe looked at his watch again. ‘We now have less than five minutes’
The Prime Minister took a deep breath and got to his feet grabbing the jacket off the back of his chair. ‘Ok, what about other arrangements?’ He asked Rosemary Kendal.
‘We hope to get the underground moving this afternoon by three, and then the main lines up and down the country should start running. All the main train companies Virgin, East Midlands, Arriva and the Eurostar have called in all available staff to help out. British Transport police are complaining that they’re over stretched but they’ll see it through’
Buryman nodded straightening his tie and brushing down his jacket. He picked up the folder he was reading and stepped out from behind the desk.
His personal secretary appeared at the door and gave a nervous smile that told a story in itself.
‘I take it, its murder out there already’ Buryman stated.
The woman nodded. ‘I’m afraid so’
The Prime Minister looked through Thorpe and headed for the door.

This chapter is going to be subject to change.

Chapter 5

Home office
Central London 8:28am GMT

Alan Manning swept the press room which was by now packed to capacity. The room was buzzing with voices from various journalists communicating back to the different news agencies; either live broadcast or last minute phone calls.
BBC, ITV, Channel 4 and 5, Sky News, CNN, ABC, Independent Radio news, all of the national Newspapers and many more were represented.
Alan had a chance to speak to several contacts a few minutes before. A journalist from the BBC told him that no one had a full idea what had gone on in the night. The BBC and ITV had been inundated with phone calls all night about an explosion which took place out in the Irish Sea. No one had acted upon it until six o’clock when the home office sent out a short media wide press release that an aircraft had gone down and that there would be a full conference at 8:30am. The major networks scrambled as many journalists as they could sending them in the direction of Liverpool and the North Wales cost, where the plane was reported to have come down. The budget Airline company that the plane belonged to was European Airlines flight 113.
‘Only one explanation’ one journalist speculated. ‘Terrorists, if this was just an accident we’d know about it by now’ Alan found this was the opinion of more or less all of the journalists he spoke to.
The temperature in the room was rising rapidly with all the bodies massed together all waiting for the press
conference to begin.
Alan checked his watch, the hangover he was trying to shake off still stabbed at his head.
Finally a side door opened and three security men appeared followed closely by the Prime Minister himself, who was followed by the Home Secretary, the Transport Secretary and the Secretary of State for Defence.
The Prime Minister looked tired and gaunt as he stepped up to the podium. He looked up briefly half smiling to acknowledge the press core stretched out in front of him. The recording lights of the many TV camera started to blink. The other three ministers were stood closely behind the Prime Minister. He looked up at the press core clearing his voice.
‘Good morning’ He said. ‘I’m sure most of you are aware by now of events which unfolded in the early hours of this morning by now, so I will brief you on what we have discovered in the last several hours’ He paused before carrying on. ‘At approximately 1:23am this morning radar contact was lost with European Airlines flight 113. The plane was due to land at Liverpool airport. From what we have discovered there was no indication that the captain of the aircraft had reported any kind of malfunction. We are aware that many news agencies have been getting reports of an explosion off the Cheshire and North Wales cost all through the night. A huge search and rescue operation is currently under way, and I have been in communication with the Air Accident Investigation Brach who have members on site at this very moment. I also have here’ The Prime Minister held up a folder. ‘A report stating that this particular aircraft in question underwent a thorough safety check two months ago and was given a clean bill of health’ He paused and turned over a page. ‘It is at this stage of the investigation after all our options have been exhausted that we must assume that the United Kingdom has been the subject of a terrorist attack’ A wave of nervous gasps and whispers rippled through the press room. The Prime Minister glanced up and cleared his throat. ‘At this stage we have taken the precaution of closing All UK Airports for a period of 24 hours’ The voices grew louder and the Prime Minister put his hand up. ‘Ladies and gentlemen I would appreciate it if we could have calm’ The press core seemed to calm down a bit and the Prime Minister continued. ‘Now I realize the chaos this is likely to cause, and I am working with the security services so that we can open the airports as soon as possible. You will also be aware that there are no trains or bus services’ The Prime Minister stared straight ahead into the TV cameras. ‘I want to make this absolutely clear to the people of the United Kingdom that their safety is this government’s priority, which is why we have taken these precautions. We do hope to get public transport systems up and running by this afternoon. As far as other anti terror measures are concerned I have talked with the Home Secretary’ He said gesturing behind him. ‘And we have increased the terror threat level from severe to critical’ The Prime Minister cleared his voice and continued. ‘I am aware that many of you have questions, but you must appreciate that it this time in the investigation we are unable to answer them for security reasons. He scanned the room nervously expecting a barrage of voices, but to his surprise he was just met with stunned silence. ‘We are currently working hard to gather as much information for the general public as we can. I feel that it is important for us to keep a constant line of communication open for the general public. Finally on behalf of myself and the entire government we would like to offer all out sympathies those the families of those onboard EA Flight 113’ The Prime Minister straightened his documents and stared briefly into the eyes of the Press core.
As the PM left the room the press core started to come to life. The journalist nest to Alan took a deep breath. ‘Well one thing’s for sure this is going to be big for the foreseeable future’ He got to his feet and left.

Chapter 6

Whitehall
Central London 9:02am GMT
Gerald Thorpe sat down at the head of the table where seven other men were sat. He opened the file in front of him, and stared at it for several seconds, before looking up. He sat hunched forward with both hands on the table interlocking. A pungent hung in the air, which was from Admiral Thornton’s pipe.
Thorpe took a deep breath and then began. ‘I have here the latest report from Saxton Wold’ He paused. ‘Activity over the north of England has decreased by 86% although our tracking station in Norway has reported an increase in activity in the North sea about 150 miles off the Shetland Isles’
‘Well that’s good news’ Lord William said, at least if these incidents are over open waters the witness factor is reduced greatly just a few fishermen to handle’
Thornton took his pipe from his mouth. ‘What about the internet, I take it there’s been no activity concerning this morning’s events?’
Thorpe shook his head. ‘Our team at GCHQ have been scanning the usual sites, Youtube, Myspace, Bebo nothing of significance has surfaced just yet, and their pretty confident it won’t. Don’t forget the incident happened in the middle of the night, most people are in bed or too pissed to have noticed anything let alone been able to capture it on their camera phones, besides the incident was too far out to sea for anyone to get a good look. Most of the reports the networks were getting were consistent witnesses seeing an explosion out to sea nothing else’
‘And our middle eastern connection, what about that?’ A large bearded man asked.
‘Phase two will start this evening although there are still a few glitches to iron out’ Sir Bernard Cleese replied.
‘And the fallout, what can we expect?’ Lord Chambers asked.
Cleese shrugged. ‘The usual, the public will be as resilient as ever, the conspiracy theorists will shout and scream stamping their feet, nothing we can’t cope with’ He took a deep breath. ‘But life will get back to normal in a few weeks’
‘What about our angel team, what’s their progress?’ Thornton asked.
‘Last report was a full containment operation was in full swing’ Chambers answered. ‘Although General Stacy has been calling all morning wanting in on this’
‘Bugger the yanks’ The large bearded man snorted. ‘We live in different times now, this is our show, the current climate means its every man for himself, so the Americans can take a bloody good run and jump’
All other eight men around the table nodded silently.
‘How’s the prime Minister handling the situation’ Bernard Cleese asked.
‘He’s baring up’ Thorpe replied. ‘Although I have a feeling the media are waiting to go in for the kill at the moment, they have very little to work with’
‘Well that will change later’ Chambers stated. ‘And all attention will be focused on the terror suspects’
Thornton got to his feet. ‘Well if you will excuse me gentlemen I have to oversee operations at Pontrilas’ He headed towards the door.
Sir Bernard Cleese pushed a folder across the desk towards Thorpe. ‘This is a full report on the terror suspect captured on camera at Madrid airport. It also contains an outline of Children of the New Jihad. MI6 are working hard on their cell over here in the UK, they’re promising results within 48 hours’
‘Good’ Chambers stated. ‘I suggest we retire and wait for the briefing off Charles’
All the men around the table got to their feet and filed out of the room.