LONDON
Talk to me, Bob,” said Harvath as the Lynx flew over Westminster Bridge and decreased its speed as the pilot awaited further instructions.
“We had a flurry of activity and then everything stopped,” Ashford replied. “Somebody pinged the cell members’ phones from different numbers and when they didn’t respond, whoever it was began trying to activate the detonators on the explosives. We had the caller traced to a one-block area.”
“How many buildings are we talking about?”
“The caller wasn’t in a building. He was outside, moving.”
“Was he in a vehicle or on foot?”
“We don’t know,” said the MI5 man.
“How about CCTV cameras? Were there any in the area?”
“Yes. Rita has already pulled the footage and we’re rolling it back to the time the calls were placed. The first filter is people visibly using phones. The next is headsets or earbuds. If someone is seen using more than one phone or changing SIM cards then obviously we…” the MI5 man’s voice trailed off.
“Can you repeat?” said Harvath. “I didn’t get that last part.”
Marx’s voice came back over the radio. “I think we have our man. Arab male, early forties. Approximately two meters tall and eighty kilos.”
Harvath did the conversion in his head-six feet and around 175 pounds.
“He has short black hair and a goatee,” Marx continued. “He is wearing a brown sport coat, a blue jumper, khaki trousers, and dark shoes.”
“What happened to Bob?”
“He seems to be having trouble with his radio,” said Marx.
“You’re sure this is our guy?”
“Positive. We have footage of him operating three different devices.”
“Where is he and which direction is he headed?”
“We ID’d him off of footage from several minutes ago,” said the woman from Scotland Yard. “We need to reacquire him. We’re sorting the live feeds now. Stand by.”
Harvath turned to the pilot. “Where can you set us down?”
“There’s a helipad at the London Hospital in Whitechapel,” he replied, pointing down at his map.
“Too far,” replied Harvath, who then hailed Ashford again. “Bob, I need to know which direction the subject was heading.”
“North, but as best we can tell, he doubled back,” replied Ashford, his radio working again. “We’re still trying to find him.”
“He’s running SDRs.”
“Let him. We don’t have anyone on him yet, so there’s nothing for him to pick up.”
“What if he gets on the Tube?” asked Harvath.
“We’ve got cameras in all the stations. Hold on a second.”
“Do you have him?”
“I think so. Stand by. Is it confirmed?” Harvath heard him say over his open mic. Moments later he came back and replied, “Yes, we’ve reacquired him. The sport coat is gone. He’s got the blue jumper on now along with a pair of wire-rim glasses. The khakis and shoes are the same.”
“He’s definitely running SDRs,” said Harvath.
“Agreed. Right now he is on Waterloo Place, near the Sofitel headed toward Trafalgar. We’re going to mobilize all the teams we have and flood the area. We’re getting his picture out to police as well.”
“Don’t do that,” Harvath cautioned.
“Why the devil shouldn’t we?”
“If he’s the controller of the East London cell, he’s going to need to get in touch with his superior to sort out what just happened. They have no idea how deeply they’ve been penetrated and if other cells are at risk.”
“What if we lose him?” asked Marx now.
“The only way that will happen is if we spook him. So we won’t spook him. The last thing we want to do is put the kind of surveillance on him that he’d be expecting.”
“You want to use your team again.”
Harvath looked at Casey and the rest of the Athena Team, who all flashed him thumbs-up. “Your people can establish a loose cordon,” Harvath said. “Keep it at least three or four blocks out. We’ll let my team work inside the bubble.”
“You realize that just because they’re women, that doesn’t mean he won’t take notice of them. If he sees any of them a second time, we’re going to have a problem.”
“So let’s make sure we don’t have any problems. Put your teams into the area, but hold them as far back as possible. We’ll stay on the radios and you can give us CCTV updates as to what our man is doing. Meanwhile, try to find out who the hell he is and get me everything you can on him.”
“We will,” said Marx. “Anything else?”
“Yes,” replied Harvath glancing back down at the map. “I’m going to need you to make an important phone call for me.”