Cyberstrike by James Barrington (best memoirs of all time TXT) 📕

was almost certainly too late to get a sniper in position anywhere close enough to the scene to be able to take out the men in the cabin cruiser.

So he was going to try and do his bit to resolve the situation. He had no access to a firearm, but he was sitting at the controls of several tons of powerboat, and in the right hands that could be a very effective weapon.

‘Don’t forget that fucking assault rifle,’ Fisher said, glancing at him.

‘Don’t worry – I won’t. Hang on, all of you. This is going to get very bouncy, very quickly.’

Carter ran the Targa launch up to full power, getting it on the plane, and steered it not towards the cabin cruiser but north down the eastern side of the Thames.

‘You have a plan?’ Fisher asked.

‘Sort of. More of a gamble, really. The gunman’s in the stern of the cabin cruiser, so if we’re in front of his vessel he’ll have to shoot around or over the cabin, which hopefully will make it more difficult for him to aim. Plus, if we’re going at speed we’ll be a fast-moving target, not a static object. And the wake that we’re producing right now is going to make the cabin cruiser even more unstable as a shooting platform. So when we get beyond him I’m going to do a U-turn and head straight for him. That’ll also put some of the hull and superstructure of this launch between us and him. That won’t make us bulletproof, but it’ll sure as hell help.’

‘Shall I shoot at it?’ Khalid asked as he watched the police boat start accelerating, but north down the river, not towards them.

Hassan shook his head. ‘Save your ammunition,’ he instructed. ‘When we get closer to the building you’ll need it in case there are any police in the grounds. If there are, they’ll be armed.’

At that location, the Thames was roughly two hundred yards wide, which meant the cabin cruiser had to cover a distance of about three hundred yards on its diagonal course from the eastern side of the river to reach the optimum point for the detonation of the explosives. Hassan didn’t want to get too close to the solid stone wall that marked the edge of the river and which would provide a measure of protection for the building. Instead, he intended to initiate the detonation when he believed the vessel was in the most advantageous position, close enough to the palace to inflict catastrophic damage, but not so close that the river wall would deflect most of the blast.

He had a minute, perhaps two, before the cabin cruiser would reach the ideal detonation point, so he picked up his mobile to tell Abū Tadmir that they had been detected at the last moment, but that they would still complete the mission. But when he looked at the screen there was no signal at all, and in disgust he tossed the phone onto the control panel in front of him.

Angela Evans’s instruction from C-TAC had been implemented almost immediately, and the network would stay down until the situation had been resolved.

Khalid switched his attention from the police launch, which was still heading away from them down the river, to the building in front. He saw perhaps half a dozen black clad figures appearing at the top of the wall and had no doubt at all who they were.

Hassan pointed at them and nodded. ‘Armed police,’ he said. ‘Give them something to think about.’

Immediately, Khalid aimed his Kalashnikov at one of the men, his aim uncertain because the boat was now rocking in the wake caused by the police launch – which at least explained why it had accelerated away so rapidly – and fired a volley of three shots towards his selected target. He had no idea where his bullets went and switched his aim to the next man along and repeated his action. While Hassan tried to keep the boat on a steady course, he continued firing.

‘Why aren’t they firing back?’ he asked, slotting a new magazine in place and again picking a target.

‘Because they only have small calibre weapons, ideal for taking down a target in the street but useless for trying to stop a boat at a hundred yards. They’ll probably start firing when we get closer.’

The Targa patrol boat powered past the other vessel, staying close to the eastern bank for maximum separation from it because distance was their only real defence against the assault rifle.

Carter was switching his attention between the cabin cruiser and the water ahead of him. When the vessel was about a hundred yards north of the laden boat, he called out ‘Brace!’ and swung the wheel hard round, trying to keep up the speed in the turn. Then he headed due south at full throttle, directly towards the target vessel.

Khalid was standing on the right of the cockpit, his entire attention focused on the police officers positioned behind the river wall in front of them, some of whom were now firing short bursts towards the cabin cruiser, most of the small-calibre bullets either missing their target or falling short.

Hassan was standing on the left-hand side, the wheel, single throttle and other engine instruments and controls right in front of him. His view to the right, to starboard, was partially obscured by the superstructure of the boat and by his companion, which is why he didn’t immediately react when the police launch made its sharp turn to port further down the river, simply because he didn’t see what was happening.

In fact, neither man saw it until the launch was already established southbound, at speed, and was only about fifty yards away.

‘Stop it,’ Hassan yelled in sudden panic, pointing at the oncoming vessel. ‘Stop it right now.’

Khalid reacted slowly, but he did react, turning to his right and switching his aim. Because the patrol boat was travelling almost flat out on the plane, the bow was lifted