First Response Read Online Free PDF

A suicide bomber was locked up with a priest and worshippers in a Catholic church in Brixton. The bomber was demanding that six ISIS terrorists were released from Belmarsh Prison.
    The channel switched to a studio discussion where another reporter was talking to two terrorism experts, a Westerner in a suit, the other a Saudi in a long-sleeved, ankle-length robe similar to the one that El-Sayed had on. El-Sayed listened intently. There were four suicide bombers in various parts of the city and they were all demanding that the ISIS prisoners be freed. ‘Did you see this?’ he asked his son.
    Hassan put down his coffee. ‘It has only just happened,’ he said. ‘Everyone’s talking about it on Twitter.’
    ‘Twitter?’ repeated El-Sayed. He snorted. ‘You spend far too much time playing with your phone.’
    ‘It’s not playing, Father,’ said Hassan. ‘The news was on Twitter long before it was on TV. The brothers are allowing their hostages to spread the message.’
    ‘Do they really believe that this will work, that the government will release the ISIS fighters?’
    Hassan grinned. ‘Wouldn’t it be something if they did?’ he said. He sipped his coffee again. ‘You had no idea that something like this was going to happen?’
    El-Sayed shook his head. ‘None at all.’
    ‘There are four of them. It must have taken a lot of organising.’
    El-Sayed nodded thoughtfully. ‘No question,’ he said. ‘But why bombs? Why not just kidnap hostages and threaten to behead them, as they do in Syria? Or shoot them as they did in Paris?’
    ‘Because this is bigger, Father,’ said Hassan. ‘Can you imagine how effective it will be if they show how easily they can strike, even in London?’
    ‘You sound as if you would prefer the bombs to go off, my son.’
    ‘And why not? We need to bring the fight here, don’t we? This is where we need to make changes.’
    ‘Things will change here,’ said El-Sayed. ‘They are changing already.’
    ‘But not fast enough, Father.’
    The door to the coffee shop opened and an Asian man in a buttoned-up coat walked in and looked around. Instead of joining the queue for coffee he stared for a few seconds at the television screen, which was now showing a shot of the Southside shopping centre in Wandsworth where armed police were standing outside the main entrance, guns at the ready, as uniformed officers helped with the evacuation.
    The man looked around the coffee shop again, then headed towards where Hassan and his father were sitting. He stopped and looked down at the space next to Hassan. Hassan shook his head. ‘Please, we are sitting here,’ he said.
    The man smiled and held out his hand, as if he wanted to shake, then lunged forward and grabbed Hassan. Almost immediately he fastened a steel handcuff around the young man’s wrist.
    Hassan stood up, trying to push him away, and a look of terror flashed across his face. ‘I’m wearing a bomb!’ the man shouted. ‘Be careful!’
    Hassan struggled to understand what the man had said, but everything became clear as the man unbuttoned his coat to reveal a vest covered with packages and wires. ‘Nobody move or we will all go to Heaven together!’ the man shouted at the top of his voice. ‘
Allahu Akbar!
’

LAMBETH CENTRAL COMMUNICATIONS COMMAND CENTRE (11.45 a.m.)
    Kamran walked across the special operations room to the SCO19 pod. Marty Windle had a headset on and was talking in a low voice as he stared at a CCTV monitor on his centre screen showing a view of the Kensington childcare centre. A police car had stopped outside, its lights flashing, and two uniformed constables were standing at the door and peering inside.
    Windle finished his conversation and took off his headset. ‘There’s an ARV en route, ETA six minutes. It’s definitely a bomber?’
    ‘Two of the teachers are tweeting,’ said Kamran. ‘Same as at the other locations. If the six ISIS fighters aren’t released from Belmarsh by six p.m., everybody