TRIBUTE
hostages. Over the course of the siege, however, he was placed with them and treated as one of the group – a decision that would later prove critical. In those tense, claustrophobic rooms, PC Lock did what many of us would only hope to do: he remained calm, observant, and protective. His police training and natural presence helped to de-escalate moments of potential violence. He quietly comforted terrified hostages, built trust with captors where possible, and relayed vital intelligence to the outside world when opportunities arose. It wasn’t until after the siege that the full extent of PC Lock’s heroism became known. While under guard, he memorised key details about the terrorists—their positions, weapons, and behaviour—and subtly passed on this information during brief moments of contact with negotiators. It was a high-stakes balancing act, where one wrong move could have resulted in execution.
When the siege entered its sixth day,
tensions exploded. The terrorists killed a hostage—Abbas Lavasani—and threw his body out of the front door. That act triggered the order for intervention.
Operation Nimrod, led by the elite SAS, stormed the building in a dramatic assault broadcast around the world. Amid the chaos, smoke, and gunfire, PC Lock kept his composure. Even as bullets flew and grenades exploded, he shielded fellow hostages and helped lead them to safety. At one point, he even tackled a terrorist to the ground, despite being unarmed. It was an act that encapsulated
“This report, together with the looking-back review, will play an important role in shaping the future of the Federation.”
his bravery—not reckless, but driven by duty and instinct to protect others. Once the siege ended, PC Lock emerged a quiet hero. He had endured nearly a week of captivity under life- threatening conditions and emerged not just physically unscathed but deeply respected by his peers, the public, and the highest levels of government. Margaret Thatcher, then Prime
Minister, personally thanked him. The Queen commended his service. But for Lock, such recognition came second to
the pride he took in simply doing his job. In an interview shortly after the siege, Lock famously said, “I didn’t do anything special. I was just doing what any other police officer would have done.” His humility became one of the defining characteristics of his public image. But those who understood the situation knew better. What PC Lock had done was not just remarkable—it was rare. In the years following the siege, Lock continued to serve in the Met, eventually retiring in the late 1980s. He returned to Oxfordshire and largely stepped out of the public eye. Despite the attention he had received, Lock remained a
reserved man, rarely giving interviews or capitalising on his fame. He occasionally appeared at police
events and anniversaries of the siege, but he preferred to let the story of the hostages—and the professionalism of his fellow officers—speak louder than his own heroics. For those who served with him, Lock
remained an inspiration. Not because he sought glory, but because he embodied the finest traditions of British policing: courage without arrogance, vigilance
13 | POLICE | JUNE | 2025
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