Papa waited with his islanders. He was in London. They were all dressed in black, from head to toe and were, to all intents and purposes, invisible. Their dress, skills and expertise meant that if they did not want to be seen, they wouldn’t be. Even the Ghurkhas, famed for their camouflage, marvelled at the islanders’ skills. There were fifteen islanders at each of the schools, more than enough to deal with fifty terrorists.
The lights went out and the islanders moved in. The power would return in five minutes and in that time, they had to complete their task and get out. Mobile phones buzzed all around them as they made their way silently and “invisibly” through the security cordon around the school.
It was the same at each of the four schools. Twenty seconds after the lights were extinguished, sixty islanders were in the terrorists’ dens.
Each islander carried an array of weapons, many of which would be considered non lethal. However, in the hands of the islanders, there was no such thing. They also carried a pack containing a variety of contraptions to aid the mission.
The islanders broke into groups of three and swept through the schools systematically. The terrorists did not know what had hit them. One moment they were watching the area around them, the next they were down.
Outside, the confusion was growing. News filtered through that the lights were out at each location. Parents were dealing with major family emergencies on their phones, leaving only a few non-parents to deal with what was going on. Commanders, their deputies and most of the officers across the four sites had, unbeknownst to each other, all been tied up on these urgent family matters. They were all too engrossed in their own private emergencies to realise what was happening around them. Nobody knew what to do, so nobody did anything.
Within three minutes, London and Paris were clear. One hundred terrorists were down. The attack had taken place in absolute silence. Not a single bullet had been fired. The islanders made one last sweep and then woke up four children at each school. They left as quietly and invisibly as they had arrived. Moscow and Washington were slightly larger and took the islanders nearly the full five minutes to clear the schools. They too woke up four children and disappeared into the night.
After exactly five minutes, the lights came back on at all sites. Family emergencies had suddenly become mistakes and misunderstandings. As the lights came on at each school, two lone students stood at the gates of their school. The world watched and listened as the students shouted, in unison, the message they had been given.
“We are OK. The building is clear. The terrorists are down.”
The other two children at each location did exactly what they were told. They started moving all the children out of the building. Soldiers raced past the escaping children into the apparently “safe” buildings.
Within minutes, the world received confirmation from the elite teams that the schools were safe as each Commander shouted “CLEAR!” as they emerged from the buildings.
Commanders were praised for their outstanding rescue operation. Reporters relayed scenes of parents and children being reunited after their truly horrendous ordeal at the hands of terrorists. When reporters asked the Commanders whether there were any terrorist casualties or whether any soldiers had been injured during the operation, the question was evaded. The only response given was that all children were accounted for and other than the five casualties on the first day, all seemed to be unharmed.
Commanders scratched their heads, contacted their bosses and angrily accused them of having undermined them by pulling a stunt behind their backs. They each got the same response from an angry boss who thought they had acted without authority. It wasn’t long before they realised that nobody knew who had carried out the rescue nor who had organised it.