Broken Angel

Chapter Seven

Arthur Robbins, Assistant Commissioner, leant forward and tapped his driver on the shoulder. "Change of venue, SIS Building."

The female driver nodded as she drove the black three-litre Range Rover out of the New Scotland Yard car park.

"I thought we were attending a Cabinet Office Briefing," said Halliwell.

Arthur hesitated. "Need to know."

The driver stopped the car at the main entrance of SIS. The two men exited and entered via the revolving door before passing through the metal detector.

Inside, armed-guards watched. At the reception, a petite, stone-faced woman checked their name, number and rank against the official register. A female armed officer escorted them to a lift, let them enter and pressed an unmarked button. The doors closed and the unit descended.

When the doors opened, two armed men escorted them into the operations room. Twenty people, a few in uniform, encircled a highly polished and long oval table. On one wall, a giant screen remained blank.

Halliwell recognised the government ministers and the heads of the armed forces. Others he was sure he had seen before but could not remember where. He and Arthur seated themselves.

On time, the Prime Minister entered, followed by her secretary. She stood and rested both her hands on the table. "Good morning. Thank you for attending this meeting. I know you are busy." She seated herself.

The Prime Minister's secretary nodded, and the lights dimmed. The screen on the wall flickered into life. In silence, everyone watched as an ICBM launched from its silo in India. When the missile dived into the sea, the lights brightened. There were nods and murmurs from around the table.

The Prime Minister did not stand but placed both hands, palms down, on the polished tabletop. "Before I open this meeting you all know the rules. No notes and everything said here remains here. For once the media believe they know as much as we do and it must remain that way. This morning, India's Prime Minister informed me that this launch was not authorised. My own ministers tell me this cannot happen. However, I am informed our Assistant Police Commissioner disagrees."

Arthur stood. "Prime Minister, Commander Halliwell is the officer in charge and has the facts."

Halliwell stood and opened the file in front of him. He paused glancing at those seated around the table. "Prime Minister, ladies and gentlemen, I have questioned three students concerning the launch of the alleged rogue Indian missile. They confirm that a fellow student, Jacob Spink, deliberately hacked and launched the missile. Thank God, it fell into the sea and did not damage anything or anyone. I understand he has gained access to other missile sites."

Across the table, a grey-haired man spoke. "Commander, are you telling us that this man bypassed the complex system of launch codes?"

Behind his back, he clenched his fists and stared at the man. "I am."

To his left, a large bull of a man spoke. "Are you sure?"

Halliwell's mouth was dry as he glanced at his notes. He lifted his head. "I am."

"Commander."

"Yes, Prime Minister."

"Tell me the worst case scenario and your recommendations?"

Halliwell grimaced. "As I understand, the worst case scenario is our missile systems may have been infected with a worm, or virus. If not detained and his operating programme destroyed he could launch another missile. As I'm not a internet or missile expert, I'll leave the advice of what to do, to those who know. For the moment I would suggest we contain and control this situation and refrain from informing the media."