Islamic State: England

by John Morris

  Felicity was about to reply, when Percy arrived, his shepherd’s pie being served to table. The mood of the moment moved on, but Dan wondered if he had just asked Felicity for a date.

  He thought he had. It had been a while since he had enjoyed the company of the opposite sex. Felicity was intriguing, intelligent, and attractive. Her body athletic, yet fulsome, and taller than most. He glanced up at her sparkling green eyes, framed by short, ash blonde hair. He beamed at her, before toasting both of his companions.

  Chapter 5 ~ Watching and Waiting

  Dan woke at seven o’clock, as was his usual, and took a mug of coffee back to this room. He filed his daily report to Harry, who did not pick up, and left a video summary for his immediate boss. He felt much fresher after a good night’s sleep, and went down to enjoy breakfast, before leaving for the office.

  He had been expecting to see Percy, but Charlie and Ben were sat at the breakfast table. “Here’s the report from last night. The first plane landed at eight-twenty-seven, departing at precisely ten-thirty. We only just got there in time. The second plane arrived at two-nineteen, and departed at four-thirty precisely.”

  “Thanks Charlie. Did it go okay for you two? Any problems?”

  Ben replied, “No, none at all. It was a bit boring, but we confirmed numbers, and I think I got some good images from that there telescopic camera of yours. You better check just to make sure. I presume there will be a new tape or whatever each day.”

  “I’ll download each day, if that’s what you mean. Where’s Percy?”

  “He relieved us at seven, and when we got back, Misses Nicholas was making breakfast. She’s a good cook.”

  “Tell me if she gets to be a nuisance. Sometimes people can be overly helpful.”

  “No need, she’s making us all welcome. We’ll tell you if that changes, but for now, she’s a boon. You should have breakfast here. It’s home cooking. And think about putting her on the staff.”

  “Percy sorted out your pay and hours?”

  “Eighty pounds per day each is fine. We’ll work seven to seven through the night, as neither of us sleep that well. Talking of which, we should be getting to bed.”

  “Thank you both for filling the breach, I’ll see you before you start tonight.”

  As Dan returned to his room at the inn, the landlord was hovering. “The two nights, sir. They’re up. Will you be staying longer?”

  “Sorry. Yes, too much on my mind. I’ll be here for several more days, if that is okay?”

  “Our weekly rates are cheaper.”

  Dan laughed. “That’s fine, book me in for one week.” He got out his wallet and said, “I’ll have the cash later, where’s the nearest ATM?”

  “There’s one in Lower Meddlington. But go after lunch, as it’s often empty by late morning. I do take credit cards, but cash is preferred.”

  “Cash it is then.”

  Afterwards, Dan joined Percy for an hour, allowing him to attend the bathroom and top up his flask of tea at their base. He arrived back with a packed lunch, courtesy of Misses Nicholas. “She needs to go shopping for food, all and sundry. There’s a small supermarket by the new housing estate. Want me to go?”

  “Thanks Percy, but no. She’s more interested in me, for now. I’m the unknown factor. I’ll spend the time with her, but may see if Cathy is free to join us, a bit of protection if you like. Is there only one cash point in Lower Meddlington?”

  “That used to be the case. There are several at the new shopping complex. I suggest you buy bread and meat on the high street, though.”

  “I intended to. I’ll also get a few things to make this more comfortable, like an electric fire. Autumn is closing quickly.”

  “Yes, the weather can bring all sorts in late September…”

  A few minutes after ten o’clock, Dan rapped upon Slugger’s door. He answered at once, quietly closing it behind him, and ushering Dan away from the house. “The misses, well, she’s all ears and chatter you know. Best sometime, men keep things to them self.

  “Now what thee’re about, maybe I can help. I knows these parts well. Set traps around that there airy drome. They pays me no mind.”

  Slugger leaned close and whispered, “I could maybe plant some swanky gismo for yer, fer a shilling of course.”

  “Slugger, you are a rogue, if a likeable one. I’m not stupid, and neither am I a free cash machine. You got that?”

  The poacher was slightly abashed, but re-gathered quickly to make his sale. “Well, tell me what thee wants then?”

  “I need the full numbers of all three light jets at the top of the runway, I got the easy one, and a partial of the second. I also need to know where the fence is not covered by cameras.”

  “You’re going in there?”

  “No. Just an option for later. A fiver for each piece of information, ten pounds total.”

  “That’s hardly worth me trouble, but I’ll see what I can do.”

  “I presume you know the local farmers, especially west and northeast of here?”

  “Maybe I does. Twenty quid fer each introduction.”

  “Ten quid, and we leave now.”

  “Fifteen then. Thought you wanted to know about them there airy planes.”

  “Yes I do. What can you tell me?”

  “Well, I don’t rightly know. There are four each day, ‘bout six hours apart, and they take off a few hours after landing. They goes west, then northeast. Bin at it a year or so now. Which is your interest?”

  “Stellar. So you’ve known about these flights in and out for a while, and never saw fit to mention it to anyone?”

  “Well, mebee so. Weren’t none of my business now, were it?”

  “Hmmmm.” Dan gave Slugger a searching look. “And what about the introductions to the farmers? Time to go. Let’s take my car.”“

  Dan arrived back just after two in the afternoon, hungry, and with more work to do. He had enjoyed Slugger’s company, at times. The man had proved a means to an end. Dan reviewed his notes.

  The nearest farmer had said, “Dan, I complained to the local police about the aircraft, several times, but nothing has been done. They’re still at it. I was told they be light aircraft, but they sound a lot bigger.”

  “That’s my interest, and I’ll sort it out, but it may take a few weeks.”

  Assuring full support, Dan left for the next farm. And continued west, then northeast. The last two hadn’t noticed the aircraft especially.

  He returned to his room and filed an interim report, noting locations and responses. He was there only minutes, before whisking Cathy and Misses Nicholas away on a shopping expedition.

  First calls were the butcher and baker. Dan went to have a word with the local Inspector. “Ah Dan, how nice of you to drop by. I was pleased to be invited last night, and it filled in several blanks for me. Thank you. I can’t spare you many minutes, so what’s on your mind?”

  “What have you got on reports of low flying aircraft? I am aware complaints have been made to this station.”

  “There were a couple only, and only one was repeated. We checked them out, and the local flying club was responsible. Light aircraft, so not that much noise. We had a word with them last year, and the issue died. End of story.”

  “You know very well, there is no longer any flying club. It was disbanded when the airfield was taken over by the property developer.”

  “Not so actually. The existing club moved out, but the title and original club remains, licenced to this very day. They have three small jets if I remember correctly.”

  Dan thought for a moment, before smiling in reply. “Apologies Ma’am. I think I’m beginning to get an angle on this. Would it be possible for you to let me have the names and details of the directors involved, both with the flying club, holding company, trading estate, and airfield?”

  “I can tell you now: Mohammad, Ali, and Hussein, though sometimes in a different order. I did a little homework after your speech last night. It was jus
t enough by the way.”

  “Would you have a file copy available for me to study?”

  “No, not officially without written request from your superiors. However, I might bring it with me, if say, you were to invite me to join you for dinner at that inn we were in last night. I simply must try the poached salmon.”

  “Let us say seven-thirty for eight?”

  “Delightful, talking to you that is. Until later, then. Ciao.”

  Dan was amused, and whistling by the time he returned to his car. He was attracted to the woman, and wondered. He began to feel a bit like the imaginary 007, for the first time in his career.

  Minutes later, the women returned with armfuls of shopping, and pressed the receipts into his hand. He opened the boot and stowed the groceries, holding the rear door open for Misses Nicholas. Cathy opened the passenger door to get in, but the devil was still within him. “Stop Cathy!” he shouted.

  Hurrying to the driver’s seat, he looked at her and said, “I better check the ejector seat is deactivated.”

  She gawped at him, banged on the roof, and said, “There is no escape hatch.”

  “I know. It causes such a mess.”

  Misses Nicholas was by then chuckling in the back of the car, as Cathy caught up with the joke. “Why you, Dan Glover, I will…” No more words came, but she biffed him on the arm, before laughing.

  The shopping plaza looked much like any other, and Dan drew out cash, as the women went shopping for food. He went in other directions, and bought two electric fires, two map lights, torches and batteries. He added a kettle, a small microwave oven with hotplate on top, plus notepads and biro’s, and headed for the women.

  They were back in the village a little while later, where the women set about the new house, and Dan took supplies up to the hide and relieved Percy.

  “It’s looking like six hour intervals between each take off, Dan. Landing time is a little awry, but consistent with an international schedule. I’ve seen two Boeing 747 - 400 for sure, and over five hundred and sixty got off each plane. Then there’s a larger E-bus, probably an A-380, that carried eight-hundred passengers. It’s all on video. Passenger numbers are on the notepad. I need a toilet break.”

  “Thanks Percy, you’re off duty. I’ll take watch until Charlie and Ben get here. Oh. A funny thing happened today. It seems your Inspector thinks she has a date with me tonight, here for dinner in the local restaurant. I hope you will be at the bar.”

  “You old dog, you. She’s a fine woman actually, but not a country girl. I’ll be nearby, but you won’t need to call on me.”

  Once relieved by the retired coppers, Dan had enough time for a quick shower and shave, before greeting his dinner guest. They got on better than he expected, and had a great time. She booked her own room, but spent most of the night in his. It was a passing of ships in the night, both of them determined to follow their careers, not wiles of the flesh.

  Dan asked for breakfast room service as, unbeknownst to him, did she next door. Thoughts of her got so invasive as he compiled his morning report, that he took himself off to the bathroom for a cold shower. Resolute once more, he attended astutely to his duty.

  Ten minutes and more passed, and he had almost compiled his notes for the video report. He stretched, and heard a sound. Looking up he noticed a larger than A4 envelope pushed under his door. Intrigued he hurried to open it. It contained the flight details and reports he had requested from his dinner guest. He was both delighted, yet dismayed to realise she was leaving.

  Dan said to himself, “No use chasing after what has gone. The new day needs to be confronted. First, I need feedback from HQ.”

  He sent his report, and recorded video, and rang Harry. “I need info ‘H’. Anything on the plane numbers, corpse, or flight plan yet?”

  There was a pause. “You’ve not seen the news then, perhaps just as well. Most of our resources are otherwise engaged. To answer your question, the bullet that killed Simon, was fired from an Uzi that was last placed in Libya four months ago. That bullet killed an SIS agent.”

  “Dexter Bennett.”

  “Correct.”

  “Harry, I need the detailed flight plan of that aircraft. There are four flights per day, two thousand people landing illegally in Britain each day, and it’s been going on for perhaps one year, do the maths.”

  “All we have is the transponder signal from a small jet. It approached Norway, and then dipped below one-thousand, five hundred feet, and we lost it. It presumably entered Norwegian air traffic control, and landed at Stavanger airport.”

  “That doesn’t make sense. It’s a smokescreen for what they are really doing. I need to track the plane in real-time. Find out what is actually going on. I’ll need access to the military grid, Harry.”

  “We have the protocols in place, I’ll make the request right now, but you may have to go to RAF Boulmer or Scampton to get access.”

  “I’m near RAF Trimingham, which is an advanced head station. I may have a contact there and it’s much more convenient.”

  He finished the call, turned on the news, and witnessed destruction in central London. “At five-thirty, yesterday afternoon, a group of fifteen terrorists stormed Harrods department store in London, and massacred hundreds of people using automatic weapons, injuring many more. Their vehicles blocked exits, and were later exploded. The death toll has reached two hundred and fifty eight, but this is likely to rise.

  “Many were killed or injured by grenades and Molotov cocktails, which set the store ablaze. The Fire Brigade could not tackle the worst of the fire due to snipers, and several firemen lost their lives that way.

  “Special police and army units, wearing protective clothing, finally took the ground floor, and restored control. Emergency crews entered, to put out the fires and rescue those still alive, only to be met with further assault.

  “It appears the main structural walls had been rigged with explosives, which were detonated. The upper floors came crashing down on those below, taking out many rescuers, and shoppers who had survived the initial attack. Specialist rescue teams are now searching the pile of rubble in the hope of finding survivors. ISIL have claimed responsibility.”

  Dan’s job was to prevent such attacks, not be drawn in by their fallout. Switching off, he dialled a number he had not entertained calling so soon.

  “Inspector Wigglesworth?”

  “Dan, get off the line, I am working.”

  “So am I. I need to see your father this morning, you mentioned he’s at RAF Trimingham, I need to speak with the Commanding Officer.”

  “He is the Commanding Officer. Don’t you have channels?”

  “Yes, but my people are preoccupied with something.”

  “Then you already know ISIL attacked and virtually destroyed Harrods.”

  “Yes I do. And that is not my concern. That is the effect. It has already happened. I am working on stopping the cause.”

  “Oh, so not just a one-night wonder after all. Okay, what do you want from him?”

  “Tracking what are supposedly light jets, below one-thousand, five hundred feet, off the coast of Norway. There will be four each day at six hour intervals, take off from our local airstrip. Comprendre?”

  “One moment, I need to make a call.” The line was blanked, but left open. “Okay, dad is intrigued, and will see us late this afternoon.”

  “Us? I thought you were busy.”

  “I am, but I’m also providing you a speedy entré. You should back this up with an official request.”

  “Already taken care of, Ma’am. I’ll see you around three?”

  “Make it three-thirty, I have things I must attend to.”

  Dan used his time wisely, settling the team in, and asking Cathy to relieve Percy every few hours for a break. He stayed with her and walked her through what they were doing, and how to use the camera.

  In addition to six coaches, he had several minibus and car registration numbers he would ask Inspector Felicity Wigg
lesworth to check for him. He needed to plant tracking devices on them, and needed a means to do so.

  Chapter 6 ~ Low Flying

  “Wing Commander Wigglesworth, my pleasure to meet you.”

  “And mine yours, Agent Glover. How may we assist?”

  “I have a small problem that concerns national security, aeroplanes, and coaches. I believe you could assist me resolving the former issue.”

  “We better talk in my office. Come.”

  “I’ll join you father. The airfield in question comes under my police jurisdiction, so I need to be kept in the loop.”

  Dan explained that their operation was in its infancy, but showed their results so far, handing over a prepared copy. The Wing Commander studied the information, and confirmed his understanding with questions. He looked at Dan and his daughter, and said, “This is most odd.

  “So, the jumbo jet is using the transponder code of a small, personal jet plane. This continues until the coast of Norway, where it flies below normal radar detection, and the transponder signal disappears.

  “Let’s follow this on the wall charts.” The Wing Commander pulled out an old school rubber tipped pointer. “Your airfield is here, and the planes take off in this direction. Note this is all uncontrolled airspace, a relic of the vast RAF and USAF presence in East Anglia during the war. Norwich airport eventually succeeded in increasing their controlled airspace in 2012, but not this far west.

  “Follow my pointer. A likely course would be to turn here, and fly northeast along this line, which is all uncontrolled airspace to the North Sea. We monitor it, but would pay a light jet little interest, unless otherwise informed. The immediate destination, Stavanger, is close by in aeronautical terms, but the flight path is all wrong for landing there. The big clue is that the transponder is either turned off, or set to standby, before hitting Norwegian controlled airspace. I would lay a bet your aircraft did not land in Norway.”

  “I’m almost certain it is flying in and out of Syria, and possibly other nearby countries associated with international terrorism. Can you physically track the plane for its entire journey?”