Black Op

by Tom Palmer

  Lily had chosen fell-running. The Lake District was perfect for that because the hills were so steep and wild and she could push herself. When she was on the tops of the hills, alone, she always felt as though her dad was running beside her.

  ‘What’s this about?’ Adnan asked, looking at Lily and Lesh as they approached the farm building. ‘Are we going to have a barn dance?’

  Lily shrugged. As usual, Adnan wanted to get a laugh out of them to make them feel better, but it hadn’t worked. Not this time. Lily was too worried about what they were about to be asked to do, trying to control her fear that they might have to go back to the desert.

  ‘What?’ Adnan asked again, rubbing his hand over his shaven head. ‘Seriously. What is this about?’

  ‘We don’t know,’ Hatty answered calmly, noting that Julia had disappeared into the barn.

  ‘It’s another mission, I’d guess,’ said Kester, pulling his black tie off and messing up his neat brown hair.

  ‘But now?’ Lily asked, sounding confused. ‘After Rob? It can’t be. It’s too soon.’

  ‘Lesh?’ Kester asked. ‘What do you think?’

  Lesh had said nothing since leaving the church. He eyed his four friends, then breathed in. ‘It’s a mission,’ he said in an almost inaudible voice. ‘She’s chosen the barn because no one will have bugged it and it’ll be hard to follow us here. Not that anyone would. That means she wants to tell us something sensitive. This is the perfect spot for us to be given a new mission.’

  Lily nodded: he was right. The Squad walked the rest of the way in silence.

  The inside of the barn was dark compared to the brilliant light outside, but Julia stood out regardless, almost like she was glowing. There were bales of hay scattered on the floor and the children sat on them when Julia indicated they should, although she remained standing.

  ‘We have to be quick,’ Julia said. ‘Listen.’

  No one replied. No one dared. Even though ten minutes ago they’d been standing round an open grave, crying their eyes out, there was no question that they wouldn’t be ready to go back to business straight away.

  ‘Thank you,’ Julia said, her voice softening. ‘How was the funeral?’

  Lily felt her eyes well with tears as Julia looked at her.

  ‘I wish I could have been there,’ Julia added.

  Lily tried to smile. It must be even harder for Julia, she thought. As a known spy commander, Julia could never draw attention to herself by attending one of their funerals. Especially now that everyone seemed to know who all the adult spies were.

  ‘Anyway.’ Julia cleared her throat, her voice back to normal. ‘As you know, it’s Euro 2012 in three weeks.’

  ‘Euro what?’ Adnan asked.

  ‘Euro 2012,’ said Kester. ‘The sixteen top national football teams in Europe play each other to find out who is best. It’s being held in Poland and Ukraine.’

  ‘With Poland walloping everyone in sight,’ Lesh muttered, bringing a smile back to Lily’s face.

  ‘No way,’ Lily said. ‘Just pray that Poland don’t have to play England until the final. And that’s as far as you’ll get.’

  ‘Exactly,’ Julia said. ‘I mean that’s exactly what Euro 2012 is. I suspect England will not get to the final though, Lily … Anyway, there’s a bigger problem.’

  ‘What’s that?’ Kester asked.

  ‘We have strong intelligence that someone is planning to attack the England team in Poland.’

  The children all spoke at once.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘No way!’

  ‘Well, that definitely means England won’t get to the final,’ Adnan muttered.

  ‘We don’t know who they are,’ Julia explained, ignoring Adnan’s joke. ‘But we do know where they are.’

  ‘And?’ Hatty said.

  Julia eyed Hatty before she went on. ‘We’ve been monitoring a small group of men who are travelling on foot through Ukraine towards Poland, coming through woods and mountains, off-road, as if they’re trying to conceal their approach. In addition, we have some intelligence – lifted from the Russians – that a threat to the England team could be emerging. We’re thinking the two things are linked.’

  ‘Who are these men?’ Hatty asked.

  ‘Possibly a terror group. Possibly from an Arab country,’ Julia continued. ‘We’re not sure.’

  ‘So how do we know they’re not just hikers?’ Kester asked.

  ‘They’re travelling over borders illegally. They’re not moving on established paths. It’s like they’re trying to be invisible. Which – ironically – makes them stand out. Also they seem to be carrying some sort of military hardware.’

  ‘So they’re a possible threat and you want us to check them out?’ Adnan asked.

  ‘Yes. We want you to go in and – in a black op – do just that.’

  ‘Black op?’ Kester asked. ‘Do you mean one that no one else knows about and that if we fail, we’re on our own?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Julia gravely.

  ‘So why us?’ Hatty cut in. ‘Why not leave them to the Russians?’

  ‘This is a threat to British civilians, Hatty. We want to be in control.’

  ‘So if the Russians know about a potential threat,’ Hatty pressed, ‘don’t they know about these men?’

  ‘As far as we know, they don’t. As far as we know, no one is tracking them on foot or by satellite, or any other way. Except us. If we keep an eye on them, we can deal with the situation when we need to, and if we need to, without causing any diplomatic difficulties.’

  ‘But why attack the England team?’ Lily murmured, trying to work it out.

  ‘They’re high-profile,’ said Julia. ‘English Premier League players are the best known on the world stage. If our players are attacked, it will have a bigger impact across the world media and will therefore create more fear.’

  ‘But still …’ Lily said.

  ‘We have to go with what we’re hearing, Lily. It may be nothing; however, we have no choice but to follow it up. Ignoring this intelligence could be a deadly mistake.’

  ‘And what do you want us to do about it?’ Kester asked, standing up.

  ‘We have to find out if this group is about to attack the England team or not and, if they are, when. They’re travelling through the woods on foot by day and they camp at night in remote places. We need you to get near to them, so that you can gather intelligence.’

  ‘How have you been tracking them?’

  ‘Satellite,’ Julia said, ‘and we’ve had a drone on them.’

  ‘A drone? Really?’ Lesh jumped up, speaking for the first time. ‘What kind of drone?’

  Julia shrugged. ‘I have no idea, Lesh. A small unmanned plane that takes photos from above and sees what is going on without being spotted. A drone!’

  ‘Yes, but is it a Predator? Is it one of the modern ones? Is it a US drone or UK?’

  ‘So why not send in the Special Forces?’ Hatty broke in, glaring at Lesh, who always became excited about technology. ‘Some adults at least.’

  ‘That’s a good question, Hatty.’

  ‘But what’s the answer?’ Hatty snapped back, her dark eyes trained on Julia.

  Julia frowned at Hatty for a moment, then went on. ‘There’s a youth football tournament involving an England team in Poland this week. A prelude to Euro 2012. It’s in a town near the border with Ukraine. There’s no way we can move the Special Forces in there without the risk of them being identified. We need a way of getting our operatives in without anyone noticing. If we place the five of you in the youth team, who would suspect anything? You’ll be very close. It’s a perfect cover: you can play football by day and spy at night.’

  ‘So that’s why we’ve been playing football all week.’ Lily pushed her blonde ringlets behind her ears. ‘Great.’

  ‘But I
hate football,’ Hatty snorted.

  ‘Maybe you do, Hatty. However,’ Julia added, raising her eyebrows, ‘I suspect you’re very good at it.’

  ‘I’m good at everything.’ Hatty smiled. ‘Adnan – on the other hand – is not.’

  Everyone looked at Adnan.

  ‘I do hate football,’ he said, trying to be honest. ‘I mean, what’s the point of a load of people running around chasing a bag of air and getting all excited when one of them kicks it past another into a net? It’s pathetic. There’s no discipline. Not like kick-boxing. Mountaineering. Kayaking. They’re proper sports. Football’s for kids.’

  ‘Yes, Adnan,’ Julia said wearily. ‘I might even agree with you. But is it true that you can’t play?’

  Adnan shrugged. ‘I’m hopeless.’

  ‘But I thought you were good at sport.’

  ‘I am. Karate. Judo. Rafting. Climbing. I’m great with my hands.’

  ‘But with your feet?’

  ‘Less good.’ Adnan grinned.

  Everybody laughed. But it was hollow laughter because now they were thinking about their next mission and all the problems and dangers it would entail.

  ‘Is this going to work?’ Hatty asked. ‘I mean, we can do a lot and we can do it well, but football?’

  ‘We have no choice,’ Julia answered. ‘You know that. Two years ago all the adult spies were compromised. That’s why … you know that was why your parents were caught out. Adult spies are good, but who is going to monitor children like you? You’ll go under the radar. Using adults is still so risky.’

  ‘But surely there are better options than us?’ said Hatty.

  ‘No, there are no better people than you,’ Julia said. ‘We’ve watched you all week and we think we can easily fit four of you into a team, with some coaching and tactical help, as the other footballers you’ll be playing with are exceptional.’

  ‘There are five of us,’ Hatty said.

  ‘Adnan’s the weak link in this case,’ said Julia. ‘He admits that himself. But for the rest of the mission he’s the strong link. You could be using a variety of insertion methods like marching through forests, rafting down difficult rivers and snorkelling. Any of these things. Tell me, Hatty, who do you want with you on those exercises?’

  Hatty sighed. ‘Adnan.’

  ‘Right then.’ Julia moved forward. ‘I want Hatty and Kester to stay behind. The rest of you, back to the cars by the church.’

  So Lily, Lesh and Adnan walked back out into the blinding light and heat of the fields, wondering what Julia had to say to Kester and Hatty that she couldn’t share with them.

  A Difficult Choice

  Through the barn door, Kester watched the others disappearing along a path of sun-bleached grass and tiny blue flowers. He had to squint because it was so bright outside the barn. When they were out of sight, he looked at Julia, who was gazing at him as if she was trying to make a decision.

  ‘You know why I’ve kept you both back?’ she asked, looking briefly at her red-painted fingernails.

  ‘Yes,’ Kester and Hatty said at the same time.

  ‘So who should it be? Who’s going to be the new leader of the Squad?’ Julia stood over them both. ‘Hatty? What do you think?’

  Hatty smiled, brushing some straw off her skirt. She knew Julia would ask her first. Julia was always pushing her, making it hard. So she decided to make it hard for Julia by answering her question with one of her own, something Julia herself had trained Hatty to do.

  ‘Who’s on the shortlist?’ Hatty said.

  Now it was Julia’s turn to smile. ‘Who do you think should be on the shortlist, Hatty?’

  Kester had said nothing so far. He was quite enjoying watching Julia and Hatty jousting. But deep down he knew how he wanted this conversation to go. The question was who was going to be leader of the Squad? He wanted the answer to be Kester. He had wanted to be leader two years ago when they’d chosen Rob and he had said nothing. Rob had been the right person then. But Kester was more ambitious now. Saying that, he didn’t want to push himself forward as leader: he wanted to be chosen because people thought he was the right person for the job.

  ‘It’s obvious,’ Hatty said, replying to Julia’s question. ‘It’s either Kester or me.’

  ‘Why?’ Julia asked.

  Hatty looked at Kester. ‘Kester has natural authority. The other three look up to him. They like him. They listen to him.’

  ‘Do they listen to you, Hatty?’

  ‘They do.’

  ‘Kester?’ Julia said. ‘Who shouldn’t be leader?’

  Now Kester smiled. He liked the way Julia asked questions, trying to unsettle him. Not who should be leader, but who shouldn’t.

  ‘Adnan should not be leader,’ Kester said. ‘He has a lot of skills. He has superb survival knowledge and he can make us all laugh … But he’s not a leader.’

  ‘And Lesh?’

  ‘Lesh is the same. His skills are so focused on surveillance technology that he needs to give that his all. He would hate to be leader.’

  ‘And Lily?’

  ‘Lily is intelligent and everybody loves her,’ Kester went on. ‘She’s kind and nurturing and strong, but not tough-minded enough to lead. Her strengths lie in other places.’

  ‘Hatty?’

  Kester swallowed. Now he had to tell the truth – a truth that would not help his case. ‘Hatty would make an excellent leader,’ he said. ‘She’s decisive, calm, clear-thinking, intelligent and hard.’

  ‘Hard?’ Julia pressed. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘She could make the right choice even in the most dangerous of circumstances.’

  ‘And what about you, Kester? Would you make a good leader?’

  Kester nodded, glancing at Hatty, whose face was expressionless. ‘Yes, I would. And I want to be the leader.’

  Julia turned to Hatty and paused. Outside the sun was still scorching the fields and the birdsong had died down as the day became even hotter. The church bell had stopped tolling after the funeral.

  ‘Hatty? It’s you or Kester. Who should I choose?’

  ‘Don’t you know?’ Hatty asked her commander.

  ‘I do,’ Julia said, ‘but I want you to make the decision, Hatty.’

  Kester frowned at this. Why did Hatty get to choose? But he said nothing. He could feel his heart beating faster, so he calmed himself by breathing in and out more slowly.

  Hatty had not answered the question yet. She looked at Kester and she looked at Julia.

  ‘Do you think Kester would be a good leader?’ Julia pressed.

  ‘I do.’

  ‘Better than you?’

  ‘No,’ Hatty said.

  Hearing this, Kester closed his eyes. That was it. He’d lost. Again.

  ‘But,’ Hatty went on.

  ‘But what?’ Julia asked.

  ‘But I think that, although I have superior leadership skills, the other three would respond better to Kester.’

  Kester opened his eyes and stared at Hatty.

  ‘Do you?’ said Julia, sounding genuinely surprised. ‘Why?’

  ‘Because, like Kester says, I’m hard. But what he means by that is that I’m less likeable. There’ll be times when the other three won’t agree with the decisions their leader makes, and at that point I think they’d respond better to him than to me.’

  ‘So you choose Kester?’ Julia asked.

  ‘I do,’ Hatty said, staring hard at her friend.

  Kester stared back at her, eye to eye, for what seemed like ages, until Julia stood between them and ordered them to follow the other three back across the fields towards the church.

  ‘Come on,’ she said. ‘You’ve got work to do.’

  Foreign Land

  The moment the five Squad members stepped outside the exit of Krakow’s John Paul II International Airport in Poland, a large black
people carrier with the England football crest on the door moved smoothly across the road and stopped next to them.

  The people carrier was part of their cover: they were young footballers arriving for a tournament. That was why they were all wearing England tracksuits and carrying branded Umbro bags. All part of the cover.

  Several adults and children stopped to look at them, nudging each other and pulling out smart-phones to take photographs.

  Lily forced herself not to look the other Squad members in the eye, knowing that she would smile or laugh if she did. They were living a bizarre fantasy, pretending to be England footballers in tracksuits, and she didn’t want to blow their cover, however exciting it felt.

  Hatty, on the other hand, was not happy to be wearing a football tracksuit. She hated it. She liked to wear fashionable tops and skirts and scarves and felt ridiculous. But she knew she had to shrug off those feelings and play her part so, to take her mind off that, she focused on the outside of the airport.

  Any foreign county is marked by strange smells and signs and images. Hatty saw posters advertising products she’d never seen before using the different words and accents of the Polish language. There was a man frying sausages on what looked like a barbecue right outside the airport door. And next to the modern steel and glass airport were a forest and a tumbledown wooden farmhouse with chickens pecking outside. It was so unlike the airports in England that were characterized by motorways, endless car parks and glossy hotels.

  One by one they hauled their bags into the vehicle. Kester was the last in, so he slid the door to and tapped on the glass for the driver to set off.

  Hatty wanted to ask Lesh about the differences she’d noticed between home and this country. Lesh had been born in Poland, but had moved to England when he was very young. He would have some enlightening things to say and she wanted to hear them. But there was a quiet atmosphere in the people carrier as everyone put their safety belts on. Sensing that no one wanted to talk, Hatty decided to ask him later.

  As the vehicle moved off, heading into central Krakow where they would be playing football and staying in a hotel, Hatty stared out of the tinted window to watch people walking to and from the airport.