Terror in Britain

by Martha Twine

  A moment later, I saw a man on the roof. He had emerged from a stairwell. At the bottom of the stairwell was another man. I watched as two men checked the filing cabinet with electronic devices. Then they manoeuvred the filing cabinet down the stairs onto a two-wheeled trolley, and disappeared with it.

  I returned to the Exford area, and went to see what was going on at the County Hospital. I found the Algerian Daesh man in a private bedroom of his own. A policeman was sitting by his bed, taking notes, and a nurse was standing on the other side of the bed, bathing a gash on his head. The Algerian was demanding food and drinks, which were brought, and he lay back in bed, talking loudly about the important role which he had played in Al-Qaida’s operations in the European theatre of war. Two other policemen were standing guard outside the door, chuckling to themselves.

  Eventually, the nursing staff decided that it was time for their patient to take a rest, and a calming medicament was administered, after which the Algerian lapsed into a deep slumber. Owing to the pressure for beds, the hospital wanted to use the private room for a more seriously ill patient, and they asked the police whether they could move the sleeping Algerian to a small ward containing three elderly men. The police agreed, and positioned themselves discreetly on chairs at a short distance from the ward.

  At that moment, I saw four other Daesh Algerians from our area peep round the door. How had they got there? Somehow, they had sussed out where their injured compatriot was, slipped past the police, and had come to visit him.

  They surrounded the sleeping Algerian’s bed, and their leader tried to wake him, but he did not respond.

  ‘We must rescue him,’ said one of them.

  They began lifting the man out of bed, in an attempt to remove him from the hospital. A nurse, who had been tending to another patient in the ward, spotted them and came running over.

  ‘What do you think you are doing? Stop that!’ she cried.

  The Algerians were taken by surprise, and, feeling threatened, one of them pulled a gun on the nurse.

  ‘Don’t try to stop us,’ he said.

  The nurse gave a loud scream, and dropped the treatment tray she was carrying. The police outside came in, and seeing what was happening, ordered the Algerians to get away from the patients and go towards the end of the ward. One of the policemen was armed, and he drew his gun, but all four Algerians had guns as well.

  Luckily, as it turned out, one of the County Hospital managers had seen the Algerians moving towards the ward earlier on, and, noticing their unmistakeable resemblance to the Daesh patient, had alerted the police station about ten minutes earlier. The manager was hovering outside in the foyer, worrying about what might happen to people in the hospital. To his relief, a large dark blue van drove up and parked outside the entrance to the hospital. Three strong men dressed in military uniform emerged, armed with semi-automatic weapons. The manager raced with them to the ward, and they burst in, in time to defuse what was becoming a rather difficult situation.

  On seeing the soldiers, the Algerians dropped their weapons, and the soldiers put cuffs on their hands. Then the hospital manager brought in four wheel-chairs, and the soldiers put the Algerians into the wheel chairs, and wheeled them out of the ward, across the foyer, and up a ramp that had been brought out from inside the blue van. The van doors closed, and the soldiers and their Algerian captives disappeared.

  Back in the ward, the Algerian patient continued in his slumber, as did the other three ward occupants, who had missed the whole thing. It was as if nothing had happened. In an adjoining room at the back, the nurse was being comforted by another nurse, while a policewoman took her statement.

  An hour later I tuned into my memory-picture of the four Algerians standing round their colleague’s bed. I knew it would lead me to them wherever they were.

  I found myself in an official looking hall, where there was a kind of caged area, containing three of the Algerians. There was a large corridor running through the centre of the hall. In an adjoining room, with the door ajar, there was a table with a telephone. Two well-dressed men were sitting on one side of it. On the other side, sat the fourth Algerian. He was saying nothing. An interpreter was sitting a little behind him, translating what was being said to him, into some kind of French, possibly Creole.

  The Algerian continued to say nothing.

  ‘You’d better put him in Room Three,’ said one of the men.

  I watched as the Algerian was escorted a few yards down the corridor into a suite containing an outer room with a table and three chairs, and a small but adequate inner room, with a bed, wash-basin and toilet. The lights were controlled from outside, and remained on. The Algerian was locked in. He went into the bedroom. There was a small window with iron bars on it. Standing on the bed, he looked out into the corridor. He pushed a piece of paper through the bars, and a man walking along the corridor stopped and picked it up. He smiled and said hello, before handing it back and walking on.

  The Algerian reached for something in his underwear. It was a small cell phone. Lying on the bed, he began trying to dial up. At that moment, a woman soldier marched into his room and confiscated the phone. She left, locking the door again. Obviously, the room was under constant CCTV surveillance. The Algerian lay on the bed and turned his face to the wall.

  I gathered that the three other Algerians were located in similar rooms a few yards away from the first. During the next day or so, I checked in on them. There seemed to be no change in their circumstances, except that food and drink was brought at various times. Then, on the fourth day, I saw the first Algerian sitting at the table. The two well-dressed men came in and sat down. One of them took out a notebook to record what was said.

  ‘I understand that you are willing to talk to us,’ said the first.

  ‘Yes,’ said the Algerian, speaking in English.

  Then, in a matter-of-fact way, he continued.

  ‘There is only one thing I wish to say. I am here to kill white people for Al-Qaida.’

  ‘I see’, said the well-dressed man, not giving anything away by his deadpan tone of voice.

  The Algerian lapsed back into silence.

  ‘Is that all you wish to say?’ asked the man.

  The Algerian did not reply.

  The two men smiled at each other, got up and left. In the circumstances, there was no need for any further interrogation.

  The Algerians were held in their rooms for a further two days, and then they were no longer there. I found out later that they had been sent to a military detention centre, where their cases would be considered in due course.

  It was recently reported on the radio that the British government was working with the Government of Jamaica to build a prison there, into which Jamaicans convicted of offences in Britain, could be placed, under a bilateral agreement. I wondered if a similar arrangement might in time be agreed with the Algerian government.

  WINDING UP

  After this I arranged similar siege events at selected terrorist installations up and down the country. Using the same formula as I had done at Exborough and Exford, I attracted the attention of the Authorities to the presence of armed terrorists bearing illegal weapons, and openly admitting to membership of proscribed terrorist organizations including the IRA, Daesh, Al-Qaida and Islamic State. In the following weeks, the Authorities took several hundred men into military custody. Terrorist locations disclosed included a centre in the North East between Durham and Sunderland, Milton Keynes, several along the South coast of England, and four positioned around Greater London, near the Ring Road.

  Meanwhile the attacks on me continued, and I removed more and more terrorists from the planet. By now I had killed over eight thousand – according to IRA records. Whenever I removed perpetrators, I deposited their bodies outside the British Isles. This meant that their bosses were unable to claim ‘restitution’ money. IRA units were not averse to downsizing, but after quite a long war of attrition, they were not only short of men, but also short
of cash.

  One day, after over two hundred men had been lost, I heard someone shout, ‘OK, that is it!’

  Then the two ringleaders behind the attacks removed the shielding on their faces, which they used to conceal their identity while on the electromagnetic system, and stepped out into the open. They had decided to surrender. Their junior managers also unmasked, put down their weapons and stepped out into the open, as if they had been playing a cricket match. They seemed to think that stumps would now be drawn, that everyone would shake hands and that we would all go in for tea.

  I was incensed that they thought they could dictate the end to this war, which I had not sought, and in which they had been the aggressors.

  ‘It’s not over until they’re all dead, as far as I’m concerned,’ I thought.

  I began removing all of them as usual. However, as I was going through their buildings, picking off survivors, I could tell that some of the men were only there under duress. I discovered a group of men in their fifties who had long ago given up pretending to participate in their unit’s work. They sat at their desks reading the newspaper. When they saw me coming they prepared themselves for death. But that did not feel right to me.

  ‘You can’t stay here,’ I said, ‘Where would you like to go?’

  Some of them had friends in a Canadian unit. The original terrorist group locally had been IRA sympathisers who had come from Canada, and there had been many Anglo-Canadian terrorist exchanges over the years since then.

  There was a Canadian mafia safe house in Ottawa at the top of Lake Hudson, near a place called Cape Victoria, where some of these guys had retired from active service, and lived in a large mansion in the country. The men said they would feel comfortable going there.

  I knew the location, so I asked them to group themselves together in the centre of the room. Then I lifted them out of their environment and into the Canadian heathland outside the mansion house. The men were initially out of breath and a bit jet-lagged by this sudden transfer, and sat on the ground, taking in their surroundings. The weather was cool, and the air was fresh and bracing. There were pine woods in the background, and a spacious green hillside sloping down from the house.

  They hadn’t been there two minutes when they were spotted by the inmates, who immediately recognised them as their English friends. The Canadians came running out to greet the new arrivals, and escorted them into the house, where a warm welcome awaited them. One of the men from Britain got left behind, and I brought him to the front door separately. The door was flung open, and there were cries of:

  ‘There he is! Come in, come in!’

  I looked in through the door and saw a high-domed hall with a log fire blazing. The new arrivals were sitting in a semi-circle in large comfy carved wooden chairs, with blankets around them and hot toddies in their hands. The stress of their former job, with its seven-day a week regime had gone from their faces. I don’t know what happened to them after that, but it can’t have been worse than what they had before.

  So, finally, there were no local terrorists left in our area, although the threat to national security from overt Islamic State attacks still remained. I’m sure there were plenty more covert electronic terrorist units dotted about the British Isles, and I am equally sure that our British Military and the National Counter Terrorism Security Office and HM Prison Service are continuing to deal with them as discretely and efficiently as before, without causing alarm to the public.

  As for me, I have not relapsed into a state of false security. I am acutely aware that the threat to our families, our towns and our way of life still exists, and I am alert, in case the terrorists ever return. If they do, I will be waiting for them.

  NOTES

  This book is about how Al-Qaida and their allies planned a covert war to take over the Western World by stealth relying largely on electromagnetic weapons. The battle lines were drawn around ordinary people’s homes and towns. Some of the terrorists looked like us, sounded like us, and lived in the same street. British people were targeted using classified technologies stolen from Western countries’ military, NATO and agencies responsible for international space stations. Attempts were made to infiltrate local authorities and law and order, and influence people in the public eye.

  The terrorists lost the war, but this book is a warning, to remind us how different things might have been were it not for our security services and the British military. We became complacent and assumed that we would always have peace in our own land. Some people begrudged spending public money on defence, law and order, and our enemies saw their opportunity. They came in disguise, and we were not all sufficiently alert to what was going on around us.

  The oil riches of Saudi Arabia and other oil-producing countries, mainly in the Middle East, brought new-found economic power to a group of people previously living much as they had done since the Middle Ages. Some within their ranks were frustrated by the mismanagement of their aging rulers, and what they saw as Western exploitation. Al-Qaida was born out of this environment, with the dream of revisiting the holy wars that brought about the expansion of the Ottoman Empire. This time they would win, and transform the Western World into Islamic Caliphates.

  Al-Qaida’s strategy was to infiltrate North America, working with the US mafia. The events of 9/11 were a product of this partnership. They then planned to launch an all-out attack on Europe, starting in September 2011 – another 9/11. With the IRA and similar groups as additional collaborators, their original plan was to bring about a military coup in Britain, to be unveiled in time for the 2012 Olympics, in the spotlight of the whole world.

  Thousands of terrorist foot-soldiers from North America, Ireland, Pakistan and North Africa were being amassed in Britain, ready to subdue the local populace, using ‘undetectable’ electromagnetic weapons. Not all were well-trained, and some were just economic migrants, but they all swore allegiance to the Islamic cause.

  Several thousand sleepers within the British populace, mainly subcontractors for the IRA and Al-Qaida, were activated, with the intention of becoming a paramilitary police state, designed to keep British citizens in virtual prison camps, after the planned invasion from the Middle East, Asia and North Africa took effect in 2012.

  Both the IRA and Al-Qaida had been actively involved in various parts of Africa for some time, particularly South Africa, Libya and Algeria. Illegal immigrants from North Africa had been promised large British houses and possessions, as a reward for their part in the uprising. Sources within the IRA told me that they had planned terrorist attacks on the London Stock Exchange and Tower Bridge, as part of a pre-emptive strike, to mark the beginning of the overt ‘European theatre of war’.

  We may smile at the naiveté of such ambitious objectives. They would never have succeeded. The IRA would agree with that. I learned from the IRA that when Al-Qaida asked them to come in on the ‘holy war’, they called on their most experienced Brigadier to advise them how to respond. He could see that the war was doomed to failure, but the IRA had consumed so much Al-Qaida funding in the past, with little to show for it except the creation of wealthy robber-barons, that he felt they had no alternative but to agree to Al-Qaida’s request.

  In the run-up to 2012, so-called ‘sleepers’, funded by various terrorist groups, including the North American mafia and the IRA, were called to awake. Some had been located in Britain for as long as twenty-five years, quietly blending into the local communities. In Europe and North America, the terrorists sought to infiltrate the operations of local authorities, where there was less scrutiny from the centre of power.

  In Britain, the sleepers, largely family members of IRA and IRA sympathisers, had been placed in posts in social services, privately-run health care units such as nursing homes, mental health institutions, the police and schools. Some of these people lived inoffensive lives, and were never called upon to act. Others were drug dealers, ex-convicts, people traffickers and child abusers. These were ordered to start the killing of British ci
tizens covertly, beginning with the elderly, in nursing homes and hospices, or those living alone. They also targeted whistleblowers, if they reported terrorists to the Authorities.

  Al-Qaida funded the smuggling of thousands of illegal immigrants into the UK, many of whom had received weapons training in North Africa. These people were absorbed into local communities, where their ethnicity went unremarked upon. Large groups were located in Birmingham, Bradford, Manchester and Greater London, particularly East London. Islamic activists were placed around smaller sea ports across the British Isles, where drugs and people trafficking operated. They mixed with UK-born people who left to fight with ISIS in Syria and Iraq, and returned, seeking to radicalise youth. Where I lived, Al-Qaida was bringing in sixteen Algerian, Moroccan and Kenyan Daesh illegal immigrants every week, together with twelve experienced Islamic State soldiers.

  The terrorist attack on Westminster Bridge in 2017 was carried out by a man from the Asian community who had recently lived in East London, Forest Gate, for a year before moving to Birmingham. He had also worked in Saudi. His current wife lived in Stratford. The subsequent terrorist attack on civilians on London Bridge was carried out by three men from Barking.

  To those like myself, who lived for many years in the Ilford area, this came as no surprise. We watched as the entire area became a hotbed for drugs and people trafficking. The connection between these activities and terrorism appears with regularity. I noticed a strong familial connection between groups in East London and groups in Birmingham. The Daily Telegraph, dated 23 March 2017, reports that a recent study found that a tenth of all Britain’s convicted Islamist terrorists, twenty-six in total, came from just five council wards in Birmingham.

  In Europe, we have learnt the hard way that tolerance of suspected terrorists and containment rather than eradication of organised crime lead to a deterioration of society and our way of life. They also create a fertile breeding ground for future acts of terrorism. According to Express.co.uk, dated May 23 2017, figures revealed in a quarterly Home Office report showed that: