by Alan Wade
Shan stood up, shook Alan’s hand and squeezed it gently, “We’ll find you, so don’t worry about my new identity, I’m not being secretive or devious without reason. You have another few weeks to spend here and the authorities may want to talk with you again, so the less you know the better, my friend.”
It was said in such a warm way that Alan believed him and a glance into Shan’s face and eyes showed his body language supported his words.
Alan also shook hands with Al-Bari and turned to leave saying, “goodbye gentlemen, I’ll see you in Cairo. If I cannot make the date look at Costa Cruises for the next date their ships are in Alexandria; I’ll be on that one. If I’m not out by October then I’m either dead or in jail.”
“I’m sure we’ll see you again soon,” responded Shan and raised his finger, “be alone Alan, alone.”
“I will,” he said; nodded his agreement and turned to go. He opened the door slowly and peered out looking up and down the corridor for any sign of people or movement but there was none. He hurried back to the admin office then discarded his waistcoat and bow tie; ten seconds later he exited the doors to the boxes and mingled with the crowds. He found his jacket, left exactly where he had placed it, put it on and feeling through the pockets was amazed to find his binoculars and even some money.
“An honest lot these Yorkies” he thought as he made his way back to the restaurant, passing two of his minders as he entered and sat down opposite Jacky.
“Where the hell have you been?” she hissed, “they’ve been asking me when we want our sweet for the last twenty minutes and we’ve missed a race.”
“I’m sorry love, I’m really sorry,” and raising his hands palm up to show he didn’t want a row said, “I had to get my winnings, they’re quite substantial and I had to wait, plus I met Mick Dalby who I knew years ago and had a swift drink with him, but I promise I’m all yours now and well in front; so if you’ll forgive me I can let you have a further advance for your betting.”
“Advance, you don’t expect me to pay it back do you,” she growled.
“No love, I don’t want it back,” he said still trying to appease her.
“Well you won’t be getting it back or anything else if you bugger off again without telling me.”
“I’m all yours now my love,” he smiled.
“Ok, OK,” her face softened and turned into a smile, “you’re a funny bugger Alan Johnson because I never quite know where I am with you.”
“York Races,” he quipped.
She shook her head but took his hands and mocked, “This is not helping you get into my pants love.”
“Jacky!” he replied in shocked surprise, “your pants were never in my thoughts!”
“No, it’s what’s in them that’s in your thoughts.”
“Well maybe,” he reflected, “maybe.”
He looked up at the approaching waitress and changing the subject asked, “Now, what shall we have for sweet my love?”
“Don’t love me you bugger,” she replied, but she squeezed his hands before she let go to say she was OK with him again.
Five races later the couple were once again in the champagne bar drinking Dom, he was extremely happy with himself, he had gambled heavily with the thousands given to him by Shan and had backed two winners, converting the brand new fifty pound notes into used fives, tens, twenties and fifties to a grand total of four thousand eight hundred pounds. He also had bookmakers’ receipts for the winnings and so had a genuine reason to have the money on him.
“You must have had a good day,” whispered Jacky, who leaned across to peck his cheek,” is there any more money left for me?”
“I thought you weren’t co-operating with me darling.”
“Oh I may be able to find a way to give you what you want if you cross my palm with silver darling.”
“That’s prostitution,” he whispered, but he said it in such a way that it was not offensive.
He began to work through his pockets, looked around and counted out three hundred pounds.
“Put that in your purse for tomorrow. I think we may stay another night at the Ivy and you can have a shopping trip in York while I talk through some business with Tony; what do you say?”
She took the money and hurriedly secreted it in her handbag replying, “It sounds good to me,” then she looked up, smiled at him and teased, “I suppose I’ll be getting the rest later.”
“What rest later,” he exclaimed.
“OK, keep your hair on,” she smiled, “you can’t blame a girl for trying.”
“Yes, Jacky, sometimes you can be very trying,” he said but in such a way to appease her; he then passed her a glass of Dom, clinked his glass with hers and said, “To us Jacky, to us.”
Tim who was observing the scene from the veranda with Sally turned to her and whispered, “He must have had a good day today, Dom doesn’t come cheap.”
“Especially not here,” she replied, “maybe he’s had a doubly good day eh, backed a few winners and met some old friends.”
“Yeah, he was gone for over thirty minutes and it was obvious he didn’t want us on his tail, so he must have met someone somewhere.”
June 14th, 10.00, Ibis Hotel, The Mount, York.
“You’re quite certain that Johnson was trying to evade you after the first race?” enquired Major Rock.
“Quite sure,” replied Tim, “he stood on the terrace very close to the connecting tunnel and dashed into it the moment the race was over, he knew we would not be able to follow him down there because of the crowds of people who seconds later were walking down the terraces and into the tunnel. We also eventually found a discarded blue trilby which Johnson was wearing when he entered the tunnel, I’m sure he knew we would be looking for someone wearing that trilby among the crowds. Yes, I’m sure he meant to lose us in order that he could meet someone somewhere in the racecourse.”
Rock looked at Steve and enquired, “Do you agree?”
“Yes sir, he was gone so fast after the first race and he never went and stood in that place again. Johnson knows the racecourse well and he knew that tunnel would fill with people, making it virtually impossible to follow him. Every other time yesterday and to watch all the other races today except the first, he stood high on the terraces in the members enclosure. He knew what he was doing.”
The major nodded and turned to Sally, “What about the girl, what did she do?”
“Nothing out of the ordinary sir, she went back to the restaurant and waited. I’m fairly sure she had no idea what he was up to because when he came back, you could tell from her face that she was damned annoyed with him.”
“What did she say?”
“Hard to tell really, those directional microphones aren’t very good in a crowded room, but for two or three minutes it was fairly obvious they were having a little spat.”
Rock smiled and nodded, “Do you think we could gain anything by interviewing her again?”
“Not really sir, I think she, just like us, was totally surprised at his disappearance.”
Rock leant back in his chair and replied, “Ok everyone, I think we’ve got the picture now, Johnson brought Jacky here to help with his cover at the races. He knew he was being followed and arranged to lose us in order that he could meet a person or persons unknown at the races on the fourteenth.
Sergeant Lawrence and I searched his room today and found nothing and after forty eight hours of surveillance covering their room, the bar at the Ivy and at the race track we have absolutely no further leads or information. Our Mr Alan Johnson is really beginning to frustrate me.”
He paused, picked up his drink, took a mouthful of red wine, swirled it round his mouth, swallowed then concluded, “Thanks for the debrief, lets call it a day. Sally and Tim, I would like you to relieve Sergeant Lawrence and Jack at 08.00 tomorrow. Steve,
you be on standby tomorrow, let’s all meet at 07.00 for breakfast.”
The group began to depart saying their goodnights as Rock’s mobile vibrated in his pocket. He took it out, looked at the screen and flipped it open saying, “Yes sir, how can I help?”
Commander Bagshaw responded, “Good Major, I’ve got you; I know it’s a little late but there’s something I think you should know. Are you alone?”
“Yes sir.”
The Commander continued, “There have been some developments in a small village called Yoxford in Suffolk and I think you should go down there as soon as possible. There will be a meeting of some quite important people tomorrow at 18.00 and I think you should be there to hear what they have to say.”
Rock had listened but now interrupted, “It’s a long way sir, are you sure I’m the man who should go?”
“This is not a secure line therefore I can say very little, but the meeting is to do with weapons grade anthrax.”
The Major’s whole body seemed to startle into life, “Oh I see sir, who should I ask for?”
“Your contact is the Chief Constable of Suffolk, a Mr. Martin Guiver, his telephone number is,” at this point the Commander gave a set of scrambled numbers.
He took out a pad and pen and wrote down the Chief Constable’s name and the numbers. The Commander then continued, “This is top secret; I do not want others to know just yet but I want your report to me in London within forty eight hours, do you understand?”
“I do sir; I will be in Yoxford by noon tomorrow.”
“Thank you Major; goodnight.”
“Goodnight Sir.”
He clicked the red key, flipped his phone and put it back into his pocket with his pad and pen. He would still breakfast with his group tomorrow and then drive down to Yoxford. Sergeant Lawrence was now quite capable of running the team until his return.
Chapter 16
June 15th, Norwich, Norfolk.
A meeting was being briefed by Doctor Miller attended by the Chief Constable, the Head of Counter Terrorism South West England, the local MP Mr Hughes, various other personnel, Inspector Metcalfe and Major Rock.
“Gentlemen thank you for coming at such short notice, I know you are all busy people, however, I thought this meeting of such importance and I know you will soon think the same.”
Inspector Metcalfe thought, “Fucking well get on with it then I’m only here because I was ordered to come,” he smiled at the doctor and inadvertently rolled his open hands in such a gesture to say, get on with it then.
The doctor continued, “You will all be aware that on the 10th of June five days ago the police discovered three bodies in a house in Yoxford and that my task was to ascertain time and cause of death. My initial findings I found incredible and therefore I asked for a second opinion from Professor Blunt at the University of Norwich. We have also asked for help from the home office pathology department and the rare diseases establishment at Watford. We have also put the three bodies in isolation at the rare diseases isolation hospital near Sheringham; he paused to look at his audience then continued and “finally we asked for assistance from the Porton Down Germ Warfare establishment. Gentlemen in a nutshell I, Professor Blunt and Porton Down believe all three people died of the same condition, which was one of massive lymphadenopathy and expansion of the mediastinum causing concomitant meningismus and death due to the inhalation of Anthrax.”
“Anthrax!” screamed Hughes the local MP.
“We believe beyond reasonable doubt that their deaths were due to the inhalation of Anthrax, yes,” replied the doctor.
“But that’s what you get from animals,” isn’t it asked Metcalfe.
The doctor nodded in agreement and replied, “Anthrax in its natural form lies in the ground having killed its last victim, for example a Goat, whose body then rots and the Anthrax spores are flushed out of the rotting carcass by bodily fluids and the blood the animal excretes. The spores are then picked up in the hooves of another animal which may lie dormant for years until they are mixed with warm fluids which activate them again and the whole process is repeated; nasty stuff eh?”
“So you’re saying these three people picked this up just by walking about, say in their garden; they were keen gardeners you know,” responded Metcalf.
“Not in this case Inspector you see our initial analysis now supported by Professor Blunt confirms this strain of Anthrax is not in its natural form, but that it has been manufactured.”
“Manufactured!” exclaimed Metcalf.
“Yes, manufactured,” it was the first time the chief constable had spoken, “it is important you all realise the seriousness of these findings gentlemen. I must also remind you of your oath to the official secrets act because everything we are discussing here is top secret,” he paused to check his audience were paying attention then continued, “and if any of this were to get out especially to the press we could have a riot on our hands.”
“But surely we have to warn the general public,” asserted Hughes.
“What of? At the moment we have no definite confirmation from the Home Office that it is manufactured weapons grade Anthrax, we have no confirmation of where it came from and we have no idea how these three people came in contact with it. Therefore all we will do is panic the whole nation into thinking we are under attack; just like the situation in America when Anthrax was found in envelopes in their mail. We have alerted MI6 and the new anti terrorism department in London to which Major Rock here is seconded;” he pointed to a young fit and strong looking bronzed man with fair very short hair, large strong hands and a fixed gaze.
“Would you care to comment Major?”
“I have very little to say, other than the government are concerned to know our findings. Therefore I think we should do as the Chief Constable asks and keep quiet until we have more data. He turned to the rest of the group and continued, “When do you think you will get a reply from the Home Office, Doctor?”
“Obviously we have asked for the highest priority to be placed on this case because of the potential risk to us all and I believe we will hear from London within hours.”
“But what are we going to do about Yoxford,” asked Hughes, “how did this stuff, this Anthrax get there, how did these people inhale the bloody stuff; what if there’s more in that house, what about their neighbours, what about the doctor here; surely we must do something?”
“Thanks for your concern,” interrupted the doctor, “but I think I’ll be OK; thanks to surgical uniforms and equipment and to the stuff itself as you call it. You see it can only come to life on contact with mucous in humans, in this case by inhalation, so a surgical mask and gloves can really help, but I’ve also inoculated myself against contamination which in virtually all instances is successful.”
“How deadly is this stuff then doc?” asked Metcalf.
“Untreated; inhalation Anthrax has perhaps a 90% chance of fatality.”
“Bloody Hell,” exclaimed Metcalf.
“Hell indeed is where the stuff came from, but it can be successfully immunised against if detected in time.”
“So those three people in Yoxford could have been saved,” questioned Hughes.
“Yes, had we known what it was and got there in time.”
“Then why don’t we just inoculate everybody in Yoxford,” asked Metcalf.
“I think we could just about do that, but we don’t have enough serum to inoculate the whole of Suffolk so where do you start and stop,” replied the Doctor.
Rock interrupted, “We have enough antidote to inoculate 250,000 people in the UK and a fast deployment system to get it to where it is most needed.
“Well that just seems enough for the Royals, Lords and Ladies, MP’s, Senior Civil Servants and various other hangers on. I hope they give Terry Wogan a shot, but what about the other 60 million of us poor sods what
do we do, just die I suppose,” snarled Metcalf.
“Inspector, we have three incidents of as yet unconfirmed Anthrax poisoning on our hands, please let us all keep this in proportion and not use this incident to launch our personal political agenda. This is still unconfirmed data and no other people have fallen ill in the last four days in Yoxford so we may have just these three isolated cases,” asserted the Chief Constable who stopped to take a sip of coffee, looked at his notes then continued; “I want you, Inspector Metcalf, to take Major Rock to the house in Yoxford to look for any clues or reasons why this happened. We must also take every precaution to isolate the house but without it being too obvious, you must ensure we have 24 hour security and deny access to all but authorised personnel. It is important you are both immunised before your visit and that you are briefed by the doctor on other precautions to take. I have cancelled all leave in the short term telling the staff we need to find the causes of these deaths and I expect you all to be available at an instant’s notice when we receive more information from London.”
“Fucking marvellous,” thought the Inspector, “no bleeding leave; I mean what do you say to your wife and kids. Sorry as usual I can’t tell you anything other than our week together is fucked, but look on the bright side your father may die from Anthrax poisoning due to him escorting Major 007 here back to the fucking house. Have a nice day and see you when Colonel Blimp the chief decides I can have some leave. Why doesn’t he take the dashing Major to the scene himself; because he’s not stupid that’s why,” grumbled Metcalf to himself who then turned to the Major and said, “Come along Sir, this way to the Yoxford party.”
Metcalf opened the doors of his car and waited for the Major to enter, “Come far Sir?” he enquired as he started the engine.
“I came down from York today, it’s quite a journey,” he responded then changed the subject, “how long do you think it will take us to get to Yoxford?”