Zero Point

1

February 2. 8:32 a.m.

On Marylebone Road, my police motorcycle raced off the A40 minutes ahead of the Prime Minister's car, clearing the traffic so the convoy could travel without the disruption endured by normal commuters. Two other bikes were hot on my heels.

Tensions were high. The previous day, authorities had used rubber bullets, water cannons, and tear gas to disperse the newfangled "Occupy" protestors. The operation had been a success―in the sense it had temporarily cleared the streets. But there were dozens of casualties, seven young people in critical condition, and two deaths. And the police were out in force―not just heavily armoured riot units, but even rapid response firearms units were on the streets, setting up checkpoints around the city where Occupy protests had originally gathered.

We turned left off the main road onto Lisson Grove, accelerating up the street. The third and last bike slowed, separating from the two speeding on ahead, then braked to block off the first right junction leading toward Park Road. Its rider held out his arms, signalling the traffic to stop from both directions.

I soared past him down the road. We'd soon be caught up by a stream of heavily armed specialist police vehicles, large black Range Rovers, a couple of BMW 7 series, plus more police motorcycles, forming a moving square round the Prime Minister's limousine.

As I drove, my radio crackled in my right ear, "Control to Charlie Echo Team. Assume your positions to clear Lisson Grove and Abbey Road. Over."

"Roger that, Delta Alpha out," I replied, tensing over, sweating inside a florescent police jacket as my motorbike accelerated, then slowed to a halt at the main junction where Lisson Grove crossed over St. Johns Wood Road. My bike blocked the incoming lanes to the right. I held up my arm. The cars coming toward me slowed to a halt, as another officer parked his bike on the other side of the road, blocking the traffic from the opposite lanes. Within a minute another police bike sped past us to head off Abbey Road.

I waited, glancing down at my watch. 8:36 a.m. Two more minutes before they'd catch up.