Chapter 5
The First Action
Thankfully, it was a moonless night. John and his group moved quickly to the target area. High-intensity floodlights lit up the perimeter of the Conpen and John could clearly see the warders’ rest room and their parked vehicle. He saw one warden pacing a path up and down one side of the cage. Voices could be heard coming from the restroom. He was reasonably certain that another warder would be tracing a similar path on the opposite side. John pointed to the restroom and held up three fingers. There were three guards inside. Paul nodded his head in agreement.
At 2200 hours, precisely John, Derek and Paul moved stealthily in the darkness towards the lit area. Terry had made a similar move from the other side. John directed Derek to the warden's vehicle while Mal was given the target of the lone guard. John waited until Mal had quietly rendered the warden unconscious and then made his way to the restroom. Mal in the meantime moved the insentient guard to the vehicle near the restroom. Using materials that were part of his equipment, bound and gagged the guard then placed a hessian hood over his head. He gently leaned him against the vehicle in a sitting position.
Some of the detainees had started to stir and John risked exposing himself by going to the cage. He walked along the cage wall and held his finger to his mouth. They got the message. He then made a quick move back towards the warders’ restroom where Derek and Paul were crouched and ready. Paul was ushered to the right side of the door and Derek was to remain left.
John hoped that Terry and Mal had accomplished their task on the far side. The last thing he wanted now was for that lone guard to raise an alarm. His fears were unfounded as Terry and his partner appeared crouching low and moving towards him. John made a signal to Mal to get ready with the pipe cutters and pointed to the gate where, by now, the detainees were gathering, thankfully quietly. John ensured his men were ready, and quickly burst the door open. He stepped inside, weapon drawn and was quickly followed by Terry.
‘What the hell’ one of the warders gasped, stunned by this unexpected intrusion. Another reached for his pistol.
John said as he pointed his pistol menacingly at the warden reaching for his weapon, ‘do not do anything foolish gentlemen and you will not be harmed. Put your hands on your heads and keep them there.’
The three men withdrew any attempt at bravado and one, who appeared to be the leader said, ‘what do you want? You realise you will never get away with this. You will be hunted down like all the other scum we have locked away.’
John ignored him.
‘My colleagues will now make you comfortable. Please do not make it difficult for them. Your two colleagues are outside and unharmed.’ John nodded to his group to commence tying up the warders, gagging and hooding them. While this was in progress, John went to the door and signalled to Mal to open the gate to the Conpen.
Mal cut into the door retaining bolts with the pipe cutters and allowed the door to swing open. The inmates surged forward and Mal held his hand up urging them to stop. Some started to run. John had left the wardens hut and saw what was happening, he fired one shot in the air and the premature escapees stopped in their tracks.
‘No one leaves here until I have finished speaking, after that you will have two choices. The wardens are secure so there is plenty of time before you have to make that choice. Now gather round and listen in. How many do we have?’ John asked nodding his question to Mal. He held up both hands extending his fingers three times indicating thirty.
‘How many of you are known to the Stapo, hands up?’ All but six of the group held their hands in the air. ‘Were any of you six, who think they are not known, processed when you arrived here?’ All of them shook their heads. ‘Ok, you six can leave, I would advise you strongly to get back home and stay out of sight and trouble, say nothing of what you have seen tonight. Go... now.’
All but one scurried away into the darkness.
‘What’s the matter with you son, why aren’t you leaving with the rest of them?’
The young man of about twenty years of age said ‘I’d rather stay here sir.’
‘Why?’ John asked.
‘I don’t have anywhere to go Sir.'
‘What’s your name?’
‘Kenny.’
‘All right Kenny, join in with the rest of your mates and follow my team’s instructions to the letter. You will all get an opportunity to go your own way shortly but in the meantime, you can either go back into the pen and wait for the warders to lock you up again or follow me. Does anyone wish to remain here?’
There were no takers.
‘Number two, split them into three groups and move them to the agreed location. Let’s move out.’
Terry silently divided the party into three groups and pointed to Mal, Derek and Paul to take a group each. They jogged purposefully towards Bermondsey tube station. John and Terry walked behind but keeping them in sight.
‘Well done Terry that went really smoothly. What to do next will depend on the response we get when we put to them what we’re about.’
Each group crouched in the darkness waiting for the signal to cross the road to the entrance point that would take them down to their underground rendezvous. John and Terry were the last to enter. The released detainees gathered on the platform. Temporary lighting had been rigged up. Marie with her team had set up a workstation to deal with any injuries. ‘Does anyone have an injury that needs seeing to?’ She asked, finding it difficult to speak clearly through her mask. ‘My team and I will visit each of you quickly while you are being briefed on what this is all about, so find a spot to sit down and rest up.’
John started his briefing. ‘You will be asking yourselves why you have been illegally released from the Conpen. I will try and answer that as quickly as I can because I am not sure how long we have before we have to move on...’
A tall young man interrupted, ‘you have about one hour before the alarm is raised.’
‘And how do you know that friend?’
‘I’ve spent plenty of time listening to the screws to know their routine. At midnight, they are due to be relieved so the new shift will be on its way in just under an hour.’
John continued, ‘good, that will give me time to say what I have to say and for you lot to decide what you want to do. What’s your name?’
The young man spat sideways onto the rail track, ‘what’s it to you?’
John’s hackles rose and he stepped closer to the individual. ‘Everyone on this team that pulled you out of that prison tonight risked their lives to do so; do not give me any of your shit because if you don’t want to hear what I have to say then you know the way out. That goes for all of you.’ John spat out the words.
No one moved.
‘Now, what’s your name?’
‘Alan Walker.’
‘Ok Alan, perhaps you’ll hear me out before you decide to go your own way.’ John looked down and noticed Alan’s hands were badly swollen. ‘Nurse, will you see to it that Alan’s hands are looked at before he leaves, please.’
Marie nodded, walked over with her first aid pack and knelt down beside the young man. She gently took his hands in hers and saw that they had been seriously damaged. ‘How on earth did this happen’ she asked.
John answered, ‘I know how it happened nurse and we’ll deal with that later.’
Alan looked puzzled and then it dawned on him, his voice and the words “there are people around who do give a shit”. He remembered a year ago when it happened and the guy who offered to help, he realised it was the same one.
John saw the look of recognition on Alan’s face and said ‘the nurses will do their best to sort you out Alan.’ John addressed the whole group, ‘We are a body of people who are sick to death with the way democracy is being eliminated in our country. The greedy are as greedy and as selfish as ever, politicians are probably more corrupt than they have ever been and the poor and vulnerable are paying the price. Our aim is to bring back free and fair e
lections and hopefully from that, a fairer society. It will not be easy, it may take many years, and I can guarantee lives will be lost in the cause. The action we took tonight was the first of many but we are but a few and so we need to recruit support. If you choose to leave here tonight, I assure you there is a strong chance that you will be captured again and thrown back into a Conpen. You may get lucky and evade the Stapo for a time but spending your life running offers a bleak future. Your other option is to help us in this fight. If you choose that option, I cannot make any promises that it will be easy. Most of your time will be spent in underground tunnels like this, but you will have food, friends with a common aim and freedom. Most importantly you will be a part of a movement that intends to change everything that we know is wrong, back to being good once again. So, for those who wish to leave, please do so now, I promise there will be no recriminations.’
No one moved. Beneath his mask, John smiled.
‘More information will be given to you as you go through a training programme. The training you receive will be absolutely essential if we, together, are to put up a credible opposition. Gentlemen, before we move out, we will demonstrate the level of trust we have in you.’ John removed his mask and the rest of the team followed. ‘There will be no turning back now gentlemen. Let’s move out. Stay in your allotted groups and do exactly as your team leader tells you.’
The newly recruited fighters made their way into the dark tunnel ahead of them and started the first of many such journeys. For the next two years, John and his small army trained developed strategies and built an organisation to support the group that would spend most of its time underground in the future.
The raid on the Conpen at Southwark Park went largely unnoticed by Garside and his cabinet. The police dismissed it as bravado from a bunch of youths breaking their friends out. They chose to ignore the reports of the captured wardens about how well organised the attack was, that weapons had been taken and the fact that the leader certainly didn’t sound like a youth. Shortly after the attack, Garside summoned Commissioner Reynolds to his office and asked for his opinion.
‘Do we have a potential threat Commissioner?’ Garside asked.
‘Not at all Sir, I believe we will have the culprits behind bars very soon’ Reynolds lied, neither he nor his officers had the slightest notion of who they were looking for.
‘Good, I’m glad to hear it Commissioner; find whoever is responsible and put them out of action and I’m not talking about putting them behind bars, do I make myself clear?’ Garside looked at Reynolds squarely in the eyes and Reynolds knew he was in too deep to argue. He knew exactly what this despot meant. There had already been some extremists quietly disposed of and he had been forced to turn a blind eye. Thankfully, he knew that Garside would not want to know the details of such actions. It followed that as his men didn’t know who had carried out the action at Southwark Park then there was little chance of him having to carry out such an order. Believing it really was a one-off incident; he felt he could bluff this out. He decided that he would come back in two or three weeks and say ‘job done, Minister.’ He left Garside’s office feeling relieved but anxious about where all this subterfuge would lead him. His concerns about how powerful Garside had become were heightened to a new level.
The side door into the First Minister’s office opened and Henry Mason emerged. He had listened to the conversation.
‘What do you think Henry, do we have a potential problem here?’ Garside sought council from his intelligence chief.
‘I don’t buy his view that it was just a bunch of kids getting their chums out of the pen Tony. If I am right then yes there is the potential for a problem. We know that there is considerable disquiet amongst the general public. Therefore, there is bound to be a leaning towards militancy by some elements. How that will manifest itself, I’m not sure but it is possible that we saw the beginnings of it at Southwark Park.’
‘We are strong and powerful Henry and you, I and your colleagues are in a position of immense power I will not risk going back to a namby-pamby democracy. I will decide what is good for this country, along with your help, of course. We have a compliant workforce and global companies clamouring to invest with us. I will not allow that to be put in jeopardy by some jumped up bloody extremists.’
‘The sooner we have a fully integrated centralised information system, Tony, we will be in a better position to eliminate such a threat.’
‘And how is that going to help?’
‘Let me give you an extreme example of how powerful this tool will be. Let us say we get a description of one of the insurgents; he’s over 6 foot tall, has a slight limp and has a scar on his left hand. With a push of a button, the name and address of every individual with those particular identifying features and a list of probable associates will be available in minutes. We can build a profile of potential rebels and then we take a view whether those people are lifted and incarcerated before they do any damage.’
‘It sounds impressive Henry, how far are we from completion of the project?’
‘My boys tell me we should have a complete profile on every citizen within the next two years. They’re working around the clock. There are some things that can be done to minimise the threat while we are waiting, though.’
‘Enlighten me Henry’ Garside cupped his hand under his chin and listened.
‘Reintroduce a minimum wage and carry out some high-profile help for the elderly and poor. The minimum wage doesn’t have to be anything like it was before, it can be much less. Most people will be glad of any increase, even a small one. Helping the elderly and poor would be a great PR exercise. That together with the small increase in wages will take some of the ability away from the militants to organise. Their degree of support will diminish and it will buy us time.’
Garside was enraged. ‘Are you aware what that would do to our credibility with the business community? They would see it as the thin end of the wedge, a government that was weak. And as far as the old and the poor are concerned they’re putting nothing into the economy so why should they receive handouts. They should have saved for their old age when they had the chance. As for the poor, why do you think they’re poor? I’ll tell you why, they lack drive and ambition. They must be jolted out of the rut they have got themselves in. No Henry, I will not deviate from the course of action I have taken, action that will benefit this country in the long run. Get the system up and running in 12 months and I don’t care what it takes to do it.’
Henry Mason knew completing the central information system in 12 months was almost impossible; there would be serious shortcuts. He didn’t believe for a moment a word of his boss’s motives or his ranting, but he didn’t really care. His position of power gave him assurance that when the balloon does go up, as certain as he was that it would, he knew he was prepared.
John Judge Page 10