transport aircraft and dozens of dead and dying Cypriots and Egyptians.
The first principle of terrorist strategy was to strike at the point where national responsibilities were blurred. Atlas cut through that.
“Thank you.” Peter accepted command without flaunting it. “My backup team will land in just over three hours” time. We will, of course, use force only as a last resort but if it comes to that, I
will use exclusively Atlas personnel in any counter-strike. I would like to make that quite clear immediately.” And he saw the line of the soldier’s mouth harden with disappointment.
“My men are the elite “It’s a British aircraft, most of the hostages are British or American nationals it’s a political decision,
Colonel. But I would value your help in other areas.” Peter turned him aside tactfully.
“Firstly, I want you to suggest a position where I can place my surveillance equipment and then we will go over the ground together.”
Peter had no difficulty selecting his forward observation post. The service manager’s roomy, sparsely furnished office on the third floor of the terminal building overlooked the entire service area and the southern portion of the taxiway where the Boeing stood.
The windows had been left open when the offices were evacuated, so there was no need to change the external appearance of the room.
The overhang of the observation balcony on the floor above shaded the interior, and the office was deep enough to ensure that an observer out there in the bright glare of sunshine would not be able to see into the room, even with a powerful lens. The militants would expect surveillance from the glass control tower high above any deception,
however trivial, was worth while.
The surveillance equipment was lightweight and compact, the television nm eras were neither of them bigger than a super 8 mm. home movie camera and a man could carry in one hand both of the aluminium extension tripods.
However, the cameras could zoom to 800 mm. focal length, and then repeated on the screens of the command console in the cabin of the
Hawker, while the image was simultaneously stored on videotape.
The audio intensifier was more bulky, but no heavier. It had a four-foot dish antenna, with the sound collector in the centre.
The telescopic sight could aim the intensifier at a sound source with the accuracy of a sniper’s rifle. It could focus on the lips of a human being at eight hundred yards” distance and clearly record normal conversation at that range, passing sound directly to the command console and at the same time storing it on the big magnetic tape spools.
Two of Peter’s communications team were posted here, with a plentiful supply of coffee and doughnuts, and Peter, accompanied by the
South African colonel and his staff, went up in the elevator to the glass house of the control tower.
from the air traffic control tower there was an unobstructed view across the airfield and over the apron and service areas around the terminal. The observation platform below the tower had been cleared of all but military personnel.
I have road blocks at all the main entrances to the airfield.
Only passengers with confirmed reservations and current tickets are being allowed through, and we are using only the northern section of the terminal for traffic.” Peter nodded and turned to the senior controller. “What is the state of your traffic pattern?”
“We have refused clearance to all private flights, incoming and departing. All domestic scheduled flights have been re-routed to
Lanseria and Germiston airports, and we are landing and despatching only international scheduled flights but the backlog has delayed departures by three hours.”
“What separation are you observing from
070?” Peter asked.
“Fortunately the international departures terminal is the farthest from the aircraft, and we are not using the taxiways or the apron of the southern section. As you see, we have cleared the entire area except for those three S.A. Airways aircraft which are undergoing overhaul and servicing, there are no other aircraft within a thousand yards of
07O.”
“I may have to freeze all traffic, if-” Peter paused, “or should I say, when we have an escalation.”
“Very well, sir.”
“In the meantime, you may continue as you are at present.” Peter lifted his binoculars and once again very carefully examined the huge Boeing.
It stood in stately isolation, silent and seemingly abandoned. The bright, almost gaudy marking gave her a carnival air.
Red and blue and crisp sparkling white in the brilliant sunlight of the high veld She was parked fully broadside to the tower, and all her hatches and doors were still armed and locked.
Peter traversed slowly along the line of perspex windows down the length of the fuselage but over each of them the sunshades had been firmly closed from the interior, turning them into the multiple eyes of a blinded insect.
Peter lifted his scrutiny slightly onto the windshield and side panels of the flight deck. These again had been screened with blankets, hung over them from inside, completely thwarting any glimpse of the crew or their captors and certainly preventing a shot into the flight deck, although the range from the nearest corner of the terminal was not more than four hundred yards, and with the new laser sights one of Thor’s trained snipers could pick through which eye of the human head he would put a bullet.
Snaking across the open tarmac of the taxiway was the thin black electrical cable that connected the aircraft to the mains supply, a long, vulnerable umbilical cord. Peter studied it thoughtfully, before turning his attention to the four Panhard armoured cars. A little frown of irritation crossed his forehead.
“Colonel, please recall those vehicles.” He tried not to let the irritation come through in his tone. “With the turrets battened down, your crews will be roasting like Christmas geese
“General, I feel it my duty-” Boonzaier began, and Peter lowered the glasses and smiled. It was a charming, friendly grin that took the man by surprise, after the previous stern set of features and yet the eyes were devoid of humour, cracking blue and hard in the craggy granite of the face.
“I want to defuse the atmosphere as much as possible.” The necessity to explain irked Peter, but he maintained the smile.
“Somebody with four great cannons aimed at him is more likely to make a bad decision, and pull the trigger himself. You may keep them in close support, but get them out of sight into the terminal car park, and let your men rest.” With little grace the colonel passed the order over the walkie-talkie on his belt, and as the vehicles started up and slowly pulled away behind the line of hangars, Peter went on remorselessly.
“How many men have you got deployed?” He pointed to the line of soldiers along the parapet of the observation balcony, and then to the heads visible as specks between the soaring blue of the African sky and the silhouette of the service hangars.
“Two hundred and thirty.”
“Pull them out,” Peter instructed, “and let the occupants of the aircraft see them go.”
“All of them?”
incredulously.
“All of them,” Peter agreed, and now the smile was wolfish, “and quickly, please, colonel.” The man was learning swiftly, and he lifted the miniaturized walkie-talkie to his mouth again. There were a few moments of scurrying and confusion among the troops on the observation deck below before they could be formed up and marched away in file.
Their steel helmets, like a bobbing line of button mushrooms, and the muzzles of their slung weapons would show above the parapet, and would be clearly visible to an observer in the Boeing.
“If you treat these people, these animals-” the colonel’s voice was choked slightly with frustration, if you
