7/7 and 21/7 – Delving into Room 101 Page 3
And that was the start of my new regime – for perhaps the next four months, even on the relatively normal days, I was getting into work about 07.30 or earlier. Absolutely out of necessity, both from what had just happened and from what was still to come, but thereafter it sort of became a bit ingrained. Looking back on it now, I wonder if that was an indication that I had changed a bit, not just from this one day but from the whole of the next few months, which was certainly very – um… intense is the best way I can think to describe it. I’m sure it was very hard on Vanessa, certainly for those few months; it screwed up our plans for the summer, she was still recovering from her cancer treatment, and I was effectively gone for most of the time – even when I was physically present, I think I was probably absent mentally for a lot of the time. She was a rock for me throughout, and I certainly wouldn’t have got through it without her. Actually – this is suddenly very difficult – I don’t think I’ve ever consciously thought about this before. How crazy is that!? When I’ve thought about that time at all, it’s always just been along the lines of, “Well that’s lucky, I have never really been affected by those events at all.” But now – well maybe I changed more than I knew. Not in any of the common, obvious ways like having flashbacks or nightmares, or being angry or depressed, but… well, I’ve always been a bit more introvert than extrovert, so maybe I just became more so than I was before. Which would not be a good thing. All far too late now, and the one person who could maybe tell me is no longer here to ask. And maybe she did tell me, or try to. I’ll never know.
Well. This is an unexpected outcome, and not the original idea for writing this at all. And that being so, I’m going to just leave this hook alone here, and maybe come back to it later…
And while on the subject of being supported, I will say now for the record, that all of the FEL people who were involved in this performed wonderfully, both individually and together as a team, and I am eternally grateful to them all for that. Without their wholehearted support, I’m sure I would have simply crashed and burned.
8–11 July
Intense activity within the lab and back at the scenes. What was the explosive? What was it carried in? Was there anything in the debris to help the police identify the perpetrators? As the bodies and human remains were removed from the carriages, the damage and loose debris could be more closely examined. And then there was the question of how to move the carriages from where they were – and where to take them so they could be examined in detail in a controlled environment. Now SO15 always loved a challenge, and could make a competition out of anything. Generally, all debris and movable items from a scene would be brought to FEL for examination – we had a lot of space and some pretty big buildings. The biggest single item we had had before was a double-decker bus, and in fact the only thing not brought to us before, was the Lockerbie aircraft debris – that really was too big, and anyway was not our expertise to deal with. It was eventually all taken to the AAIB premises at Farnborough where it was partially reconstructed.
Anyway, the competition now was to see if they could transport the Tube carriages to FEL, since that would clearly break all previous records. To which my response was my version of a John McEnroe type ‘you can not be serious!’ Well they were – but eventually wiser heads (and more pertinently, practical logistics!) ruled, and they were taken to some railway sheds in Acton, where they stayed for several weeks, maybe even months. There they had all the facilities and tools for proper detailed examinations, inside, outside and underneath, and FEL staff got to know those sheds quite well over the next few weeks. The bus however did come to FEL – we did have the space and facilities for that, so at least SO15 could claim to have matched the previous record!
12 July
Things really kicked off again for the lab on this day, when a number of strands of the ongoing police investigation came together, with the finding of a car full of explosive devices at Luton train station, and a premises in Leeds which turned out to be the main bomb-making factory for the bombers. Not that we had been far short of flat out on our various examinations and analyses, but this really stepped it up a gear. Up until now we had been really struggling to find out what explosives had been used and how the devices had been constructed. None of our preliminary tests was coming up positive, which was starting to cause some head scratching, as we would normally have expected to have found at least some indication of what explosive had been used by this time.
Now we had some potential unused materials in a car, and maybe the main bomb factory, which would be a major step forward for us in understanding what we were dealing with.
Most of the lab staff were still working flat out at the various scenes, or in the lab on stuff from those scenes but Claire and Sarah M were available – so they were whisked off to Leeds by helicopter, as that seemed like the bigger, more complicated scene. Now it has to be said that being transported around by helicopter was a fairly rare occurrence, so this was a good example of the state of mind of the powers that be, at that time. Basically, anything the police wanted, they could have, where and when they wanted it.
Which really left only me for the Luton car – which given all the various strands going on at the time, I didn’t especially want to go to. However, that was all still being dealt with by the EXPO, so maybe I could just discuss it with him on the phone. Which is what we did, and we came up with a plan for how he could get me a sample of some of the materials he had found, and then make safe and/or destroy the rest of what he had there.
Now, from my chat with him, it was clear that what he was very likely dealing with, at least in part, were some very dangerous materials and complete IEDs, so the safest option, for him, would have been to simply do remotely what the press like to call a ‘controlled explosion’. This, however, would risk losing us the chance of a sample of unused explosive, which we had been struggling to identify. So when he said he was happy to get me an actual sample first, this was a very brave decision for him to take, irrespective of having discussed how he might do it. So I was at pains to point out – it was absolutely his decision, and we would work with whatever he got us, and never EVER question what he chose to do. But get an actual sample he did. Which turned out to be HMTD (hexamethylene-triperoxide-diamine), which is a very sensitive and dangerous high explosive, that can be used as an explosive in its own right, but more sensibly is used in small quantities to detonate a much larger amount of much less sensitive explosive.
This was a big step forward for the lab as now we had a clear direction and focus for at least some of what we should be looking for.
12–14 July – Leeds
Meanwhile, Claire and Sarah M had arrived at the premises in Leeds. And here things weren’t going quite so well. One of the reasons the Met have their own EXPOs is that they are only a small team, and they get to choose the best people available, and they have all already had full careers in the military, with a great deal of experience. The military EOD organisation is much bigger, and necessarily has a whole range of staff, from newly qualified to nearing retirement – meaning a whole range of experience.
Well, as it happened, the EOD officer sent to the Leeds premises was at the younger and less experienced end of the spectrum. Don’t get me wrong, they are all properly qualified in terms of actual bomb disposal. Which would have been fine if this was a normal EOD type of incident, with one or more actual devices to deal with. However, this scene was anything but.
So, he had followed his procedures, gone in for an initial safety inspection, looking for any actual devices and/or booby traps – and found, at first sight, nothing of the sort. What he found was best described as a complete shithole, with apparent rubbish (screwed up papers, dirty dishes, plastic trays, buckets of various sorts of slop, including buckets of very smelly dark brown stuff – believed by him and several others after him to be actual shit), being spread liberally over the floors (and every other flat surface including chairs) thr
oughout the flat. To the point that there was very little clear floor space left to actually walk on. There were also several rubber gloves, dust masks, and much more worryingly, proper gas masks. Well you had to feel for him, but this was something he really didn’t understand, or think it was something he was best placed to deal with.
Which didn’t help Claire or Sarah – they couldn’t enter until he declared the scene explosively safe, which he couldn’t, because he didn’t understand what he was seeing. To be fair to him, he was happy to get Claire and Sarah some samples from within, which they tested with the limited test kits they had available – which gave them no useful results. And so things came to a full stop. Now all that was left to do was to get some samples to the lab. Since most of the material in there was these various sludges, from light yellow to dark brown, it was decided that these were what should be sent. How to do that? By helicopter of course. Only there weren’t any available just then.
Then followed a conversation between the police and the ‘powers that be’ that I have no knowledge of but I can imagine to be something like, “There are no helicopters.” “Really?” “Yes really.” “In the whole of the UK? Get a grip, there must be one somewhere!” “No. There aren’t any.” “Well try harder, and find one.” “You’re not listening, there aren’t any available – well, there is the Lossiemouth search and rescue Sea King helicopter, but that is clearly out of the quest—” “Great, that’ll do, get it on its way then.” Amazingly that is what then happened! So Sarah was despatched back to the lab from Leeds on the Lossiemouth Sea King – no silly little police helicopter this. I heard tea and biscuits were provided, a paper to read; the full in-flight service! I later heard that the bill for this ran to six figures. No idea if that is true, but I can believe it. As I noted previously, with a government in mild panic mode, stuff that would normally be impossible, just happens. What is true is that Sarah can claim the most expensive journey in FEL history, which will almost certainly never be matched.
I should just add here that the samples Sarah brought back to the Fort were very small. Can you imagine the furore if a coastguard Sea King fell out of the sky due to an accident carrying some kind of unknown, novel, improvised explosive!
Anyway, now back at FEL we had some samples of yellow/brown sludge. Over the next day, a battery of tests revealed – almost nothing! At least nothing that made any sense to us. About the only things we found were that it was aqueous, it might have some peroxide in it, and apparently a bit of something called piperine. What’s piperine? Good question. Consulting the books, apparently it is a constituent of some peppers, and is sometimes used in insecticides. Really no help at all in terms of explosives. Well, there were some gas masks there – could it be chemical weapon related? There’s been absolutely no indication of this but we’re getting nowhere, let Porton Down have a sample. Porton Down is the UK chemical and biological defence research establishment – which is also part of Dstl. So this was the substance of a conversation between me and SO15 at about 22.00; all agreed they will take some first thing in the morning to Porton Down.
So I go home, wind down, go to bed, just get to sleep – the phone rings. It’s now about 01.00. A fast car is on its way to the FEL to pick up the samples and take them to Porton. If I hurry into the lab to facilitate, their engine won’t get too cold waiting for me! At which point I did suffer a serious sense of humour failure. Something like “You couldn’t have fucking said this earlier at 22.00, when I was still at the fucking lab!” But this was a shift change, fresh person, eager to do stuff, etc., etc. So off I trot, at 02.00 I arrive at the lab, faff around, leave at 03.00, home, wind down again, back to bed maybe 04.30. And then back to the lab for 07.30, or so. I put this in only because I actually remember this instance of briefly losing my temper; and by way of an example of the kind of fevered atmosphere that we were working in at the time, and for the next several weeks – not just me but all the FEL staff, the police, everyone. I guess it must take its toll somewhere along the way. Maybe there is something to this counselling/therapy malarkey after all. I just don’t know how it would work – if I had been told to do some such thing at the time, I would have simply said something like “Oh bog off, I haven’t got time for all that nonsense now.”
Anyway, back to Leeds. Claire is still stuck at the premises, the EOD officer has gone, saying he can’t do any more, but hasn’t cleared the premises so neither Claire nor anybody else can go in. Well, now that Porton Down have become involved, they have sent a mobile laboratory up to Leeds in case it does turn out to involve some kind of chemical weapon as well. After speaking to Claire, we agree that she could stay there for a while, to liaise with Porton, and also because the police are saying they might have some other premises in the area where they might need her.
Well I can’t now remember the actual sequence of events, but let’s say that by the end of 16 July, Porton had come up with the same results as FEL, and had decided they could find no evidence of anything they would recognise as a chemical threat, so they decamped back to Porton Down. Of course there was still the nightmare scenario of some kind of biological device, also for Porton to decide, but to test for that, in the absence of any idea of what to look for, can take weeks and they still may not find anything. Claire had made her way back to the Fort; not sure how but certainly not by helicopter! The scene was still shut and no one could decide how to proceed, which was causing severe agitation, not least amongst the police. I think by this time we had had one sample, from amongst those collected by the EOD, in which we had found HMTD. Which was thus far the only concrete evidence of illegal activity at the scene, and linked to the actual bombers, and to their car at Luton.
Two more days passed, of agonising at senior levels within the government and police over how to proceed. This culminated in me being called to a meeting on 19 July at NSY (New Scotland Yard), with senior police, SO15 officers, and a senior scientist from Porton Down – and being told to bring an overnight bag! A proper amount of sucking of teeth and chewing of lips ensued, but it all boiled down to this: Porton Down could find no evidence of anything they could recognise as chemical, nor indeed biological weapons although that was much more nebulous, though we all understood there were no guarantees. On the other hand, there was good evidence of at least some recognisable explosives manufacture, which also linked to the bombers and the car at Luton. So, was everyone agreed that we could just treat it as an explosives scene and actually get moving again? Please? I said I was happy with that – and within five minutes I was in a police car, bag in hand and blue lights flashing, heading rapidly for Leeds.
At the same time as I was racing up the M1, EOD had been re-tasked to the scene. And this time, they sent a different EOD officer, and one at the opposite end of the experience spectrum to the earlier one, which was a real boon. Having had his own look around, he was very happy to take both me and Chris, the SO15 exhibits officer, into the premises with him. The only minor complication to that was, initially at least, we had to climb in through the living room window (this was a ground-floor flat), because that was a common procedure, which the first EOD officer had followed, when there is a danger that normal points of entry might be booby-trapped. And inside it was fairly much as it had previously been described, but now we could start to figure out just what it was that we actually had to deal with. It soon became clear that a major and quite long-term process of manufacture of a variety of materials had been taking place, and a large part seemed to be various mixtures containing black pepper and hydrogen peroxide. Nothing like anything we had ever seen or even heard of before – could they possibly become explosive? Chemically speaking, it was theoretically possible, but that’s a long way from saying it could work in practice. All of which, I think, was quite frustrating for the police (and actually for us), but the police were not used to us having to say things like, “Erm, sorry, I’m not sure – it might be that.”
A bit of light relief in all thi
s, was the buckets with the very dark brown stuff that looked, and apparently smelled, like shit. Now, I don’t have a sense of smell, never have had, which gave me a slightly different perspective here. Everyone else was fairly sure it was actual shit. But I didn’t quite believe it – so this became a bit of a light-hearted challenge to work out who was right; there might even have been mention of a small bet. My trump card was noticing something no one else had – this was the middle of a hot July, in what was certainly a metaphorical shithole – and not a single fly. Not one. With a couple of buckets of actual shit? Not possible. And so it eventually proved! It turns out they were just mixtures of black pepper and water – no hydrogen peroxide at all. All the other mixtures contained various strengths of hydrogen peroxide. Never worked out the reason for these water mixtures, not for sure, but that’s by the way.
Anyway, now we could make real progress, and over the next two days we systematically removed all the actual and potential explosive material (of which there was quite a lot) from the premises, and either packaged it for transport to the Fort, or destroyed it at the scene. Which was also where I had one of the few real “Oh shit, what the fuck are you doing, Cliff?” moments of my twenty-six years with FEL.
The biggest danger in the flat, it transpired, was the presence of, overall, probably a few hundred grams of HMTD. Fortunately though, it was not all together in one place but spread around in much smaller quantities in plastic trays and on filter papers, etc. I was confident it was HMTD from our earlier tests at FEL, and because I had done a burn test on a few very small samples on the tip of a small spatula, which had all given an immediate bright orange flash, with a satisfying little whuumph. So after taking a few very small samples for the lab, we had a plan to dispose of it, bit by bit, using a ‘killer’ solution, and then putting all the residues and contaminated papers, etc., into a wonderful little ‘igloo’ of sandbags, built by the EOD officer for this purpose, which would be closed up and the contents ignited remotely, once we had finished. The thing is, the ‘killer’ is only partially effective, particularly with more than just very small amounts, so we were also keeping the contents damp with an alcohol/water solution as we were going along. This would tend to keep any live material less sensitive than if it was allowed to dry out. All very well. But it was a particularly hot and sunny spell of weather. And there came a point near the end of the process, when I was on my hands and knees, with my head stuck inside the igloo, adding some more stuff to the pile. Just at that point the sun was shining directly over my shoulder and into the igloo, and as I lifted my head I suddenly noticed all these little motes of dust (almost certainly HMTD – did I say it is very sensitive?) floating and glistening in the sunlight. What with the temperature, and then the direct sunlight, despite us having tried to keep it damp, the contents had dried out nicely, and here it was warming happily in the sun – with my head stuck right in amongst it. A very bad place to be! Very gingerly, crawling backwards, and I have to say very shamefaced, I put a lot more damping solution in there and then suggested we put up a screen so that the sun couldn’t shine straight in onto the contents. All of which I should have made sure of before. I think the expression on my face on backing out of the igloo gave the EOD officer the best laugh he’d had all day – which was actually just what we all needed. I can’t remember his name now, but all respect to him – he was a top man, and his approach to everything we had to do made the whole process so much easier than it otherwise would have been.