by John Morris
“No. At least, not yet. Tell me what they are carrying.”
Dan related what he knew, when a knock came to the door.
“Enter.”
“Commander, you wanted the official request as soon as it came in.”
“Thank you Corporal. Dismissed.” He glanced at the document and smiled. “Now I can track the plane for you. Or rather, our systems can. We will begin according to your schedule, with the takeoff at eight-thirty hours tonight, and monitor continuously thereafter, all air traffic in and out of your local field.
“You have been authorised to view the details of these flights only, which will be recorded and set aside for you personally. I suggest you pay us a visit the morning after tomorrow. Do you have a secure number?”
“Yes sir, let me tap it into your mobile.”
Dan’s phone rang moments later. “Admirable, that’s my call. I may be able to give you final destination verbally, tomorrow, when we have tracked a few planes. I believe we are done, Agent. Felicity, you will stay a while?”
“No Father, a few minutes only, I must get back, but I’ll see you for Sunday lunch.”
Dan read the situation quickly. “Excuse me, and thank you Wing Commander, a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
Dan proffered his hand, and as they shook. Dan added, “Ma’am, take your time, I’ll grab a coffee from the mess.”
“Just follow the corridor right, it’s at the end of the passage.”
He turned to leave, but Felicity added, “Don’t eat anything, I have a plan for the journey home.”
As Dan went through the door, he heard her father say, “Is there anything you wish to tell me, Filly?”
“Don’t be silly Father, we hardly know one another…” Dan closed the door.
Twenty minutes later, they were on the road headed back towards Lower Meddlington. The hourly news came over the radio. The main headline was again the strike upon Harrods, the media turning an incident into a frenzy of speculation, with little or no supporting fact.
Dan said, “Typical terrorists, strike and second strike at the rescuers. It’s a common feature.”
“Will you have to return?”
“I doubt it. You see, this is the effect. What I, we, are working on is preventing the cause. Three hundred militia arrived today alone, and every plane carries boxes I know to contain weapons and ammunition.
“Sometimes civilians board for departure. We suspect these to be fighters and war brides outgoing. This could have already become a daily occurrence all across the UK. The threat lies in the large numbers incoming.”
“You mean we are all under threat.”
“Not just yet, but we will be. This is war. The authorities do not understand how organised and wealthy these terrorists have become. They have no inkling of the devastation that could soon be unleashed upon our soil. But I do not think that is their ultimate objective. ISIL are all about controlling territory, money, and people. Gimmicks, like Harrods, are for distraction, and perhaps for getting rid of rogue elements. Those prepared to sacrifice their lives for Allah, people too stupid to realise they are doing it for ISIL.”
“You talk a lot of sense. I like that. And you believe they are coming into this country at our local airbase?”
“I believe it is one of several airbases being used. Do you begin to see a bigger picture evolving? There may be ships also. Let’s change the subject, as this is no way to begin a date. We are on a date aren’t we?”
“I don’t know. I guess so.”
“You’re single, I take it?”
“Yes. No regular boyfriend. But what are the chances of finding Mister Right in this backwater. What about you? You have a wife, children?”
“No, none. I had a few relationships when I was younger, but the hours, and dedication to duty gets in the way. I can arrange a date, and then be called to action, often abroad. I can be gone for days, weeks, or even months sometimes, and am not allowed social contact. So girls think I duped them, or dumped them, and I cannot tell them the real reason why. I sort of gave up. What about you?”
“Pretty similar in many respects. I had one long-term boyfriend, but we split-up after I joined the police service, and started getting moved around. That’s the story of my life, as we moved often with my father, from one airbase to another. I considered becoming a specialist WPC, rape and the like, but those departments are small, with little chance of promotion. Anyway, I preferred the action out on the streets.”
“You appear dedicated to your career. I admire that.”
“Thank you, I am. On promotion, I got the position of shift Sergeant in Norwich city, and was good at my job. I was engaged back then, a different guy, but he could not get his head around me putting my job before him. I wasn’t, but he could not see it. Near the end of shift, or on a day off, something would hit the fan, and I’d be working.
“Like you just said, it destroys personal relationships. So now, I don’t bother either. Maybe if I make Chief Inspector somewhere larger, that could change, but for now, I’m just marking time.”
“So that’s why you wound up here. I don’t think so.”
“Huh. Men! When I was up for Inspector, a Chief Superintendent said he would guarantee me a position in Norwich City, under his staff, if I spent the night with him. Obviously, he wanted benefits in kind to suit his libido. I told him to fuck off and I wound up here.”
“The bastard! Well done. I admire you for that. Not all men are the same.”
“What’s done, is done and done with. Oh, we are nearly there. I need to turn off the road soon, but this road takes you into the top of the high street. We’ll dine at one of my favourite restaurants in Upper Meddlington, it’s the smaller of the two towns. That new housing estate links them together. I presume you like steak.”
“Love it.”
The meal was a great success, and their heavy conversations of earlier, were replaced by repartee and laughter. Dan ordered cheese, as Felicity chose from the sweet trolley. He left for the Gents, and paid the bill with his card.
As they finished, Felicity asked for the bill, and was informed, “The gentleman has already paid.”
She was not impressed. “This was my treat. Okay. I should be taking you to your car, but because of this, you are coming back to my place for coffee, and only coffee.”
Dan smiled cheekily. “Perhaps you can pay next time?”
She looked at him. “Next time. Will there be a next time?”
“I don’t know, but I’ll be here for a few more days yet. Weeks possibly. Let’s see what happens.”
Felicity lived in a detached cottage just off Lower Meddlington high street, close enough to work, without being too close. She surprised him by making Gaelic coffee, which was excellent. Their banter continued, until Dan thought it time he should be leaving.
Felicity saw him to the door, but did not open it. Instead, she locked it and tossed away the keys. She threw her arms around his neck, and her lips and tongue annulled his feeble protestations. A fiery passion enveloped them. Clothes were discarded as they precariously made their way upstairs. Neither of them got much sleep that night.
The alarm rang at six-forty five, but they lazed for a few minutes in togetherness, before they got carried away. Later, Felicity sprang out of bed and walked naked to collect her robe from the nearby chair. Dan whistled in appreciation, and she turned around, covering herself moments later in a bathrobe, and headed for the bathroom.
Dan saw the clock had moved on. He leapt out of bed, donning his clothes, and shouting, “I’m not running out on you, but I must file my daily morning report, and see to the troops.”
Once dressed, he poked his head into the bathroom. “Give me a quick kiss before I leave. I’m late.”
Dan was only minutes late by the time he got back to the village. He collected a coffee, and went up to his room to complete his daily, morning routine. Once showered, shaved, and report filed, he went down for breakfast, and paid the l
andlord in cash.
Afterwards he checked in at the old shop, where Misses Nicholas was busy cooking for Ben and Charlie. They gave a brief report, and Dan left to catch up with Percy, who seemed in fine form. “Good morning Dan, I trust yesterday went well.”
“Very well, we have the planes being monitored in real time. I should get confirmation of some destinations later this morning. Meanwhile, I need to catch up with everything here, run me through the log…”
Cathy joined them a little after ten o’clock, and all three monitored the plane taking off. Dan said, “That’s an Airbus A-380-800, think eight hundred people, for that would be the number of civilians that got off.”
Cathy said, “Why are they flying in families? Because that’s what I see. It makes no sense.”
They watched and waited, until Dan’s mobile rang. Tom said, “Dan, I have a preliminary report. Raqqa, Raqqa, and Sabha, Libya, in that order. All destinations were not designated international airports.”
“Thank you Commander, this is just as I feared. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”
Turning to the group he said, “They are flying in from ISIL held territories. I expect we may have more incoming during the current disaster in London, a diversion, as far as I can determine.”
Just then, three coaches approached, and Dan said, “I need to track these vehicles, but today I’m going to follow them. It’ll give us the type of destination. I’m presuming there will be several. If I get the chance, I’ll place a tracking device, but no promises.”
Dan stayed with Cathy and Percy until the coaches were ready to leave, and said, “Call me when they depart. I’ll be on the road ahead of them.”
Cathy said, “But that’s stupid, what if they turn off?”
“Then I log it for next time, and narrow the field. Or I could turn round. If you follow from behind, you will be noticed. Follow from in front, and nobody suspects you. See you later.”
Dan was away, driving for a long time. At roads works with a long hold, he remonstrated outside his car, and with the coach drivers behind. He managed to bug two of the coaches, before the lights eventually changed, and he had to run back to his car.
He pulled aside a short time later and followed the untagged coach. It dropped off at an Asian community Centre in Thetford, and he stayed long enough to video people getting off and entering the building. Helpers unloaded large boxes, and took them inside. He took a chance to plant a bug.
He had trace on the other two coaches. Targeting the nearest, he caught up with it just after the coach stopped at an Asian community centre in Newmarket. Repeat in Cambridge city.
The long drive back was confounded by more road works, and thoughts of Felicity Wigglesworth. He wanted to call her to invite her to dinner. The other part of his mind wanted to forget her; it could never be between them. Nevertheless, out of uniform, she was rather attractive.
Eventually, he entered the village inn bar, ready for a pint, and to tell Percy what he had accomplished. To his surprise, Percy already had company of the female kind, his boss.
Chapter 7 ~ Project Caliphate
Dan’s alarm woke them before seven the next morning. He had moved it forward because of his guest.
She looked at him with sleepy eyes and said, “We must stop doing this.”
“Yes I agree, just one more kiss?”
They were late out of bed, and chasing being in different places on time. They shared breakfast, Dan learning what she liked. They were interrupted by the landlord. “Ma’am, I don’t feel right about taking the money from you for your room. You never set foot in it. Please, take your money back.”
“Keep it. Call it damage limitation.”
“But everybody hereabouts is talking about it.”
“Then limit the damage to this village.”
“Ah, thank you Ma’am. That I can do.”
After the landlord left, Felicity said, “You followed the coaches. The result?”
“I’ve transponders affixed, one to each coach, and three destinations I need checked out. Think Muslim community centres, and ISIL.”
“Gimmie.”
Dan handed over a prepared list containing registration numbers, destinations, names of street and building, and specific map location.”
“I’m impressed, Agent Glover. This is good work. I won’t be seeing you tonight, this has got to stop.”
“Yes of course, I entirely agree. And anyway, it could never work out between us, the job an’ all. So, dinner at eight it is then.”
She stood abruptly, he respectfully following suit. She said, “You are incorrigible, Daniel Glover!”
He replied, “Danforth, Ma’am. I try to please.”
She hesitated, and looked him in the eyes. “’Danforth’? That’s a strange name. Explain please.”
“I was raised in an orphanage, and although British, it was not in this country. We spoke English, the locals, Arabic. The Sisters that ran it gave us all Biblical names. I was the fourth of five so named Daniel, and ‘Dan-fourth’ stuck. Somewhere along the lines of my life, perhaps my birth registration in Malta, the ‘u’, was dropped. Hence Danforth. I believe Glover is my family name, but never bothered to check, Ma’am.”
Dan remained standing, and at the door, she looked back and blew him a kiss. He blew one back, and she was gone.
Upstairs, Dan made his daily report, adding there would be a follow up to complete current information at midday. He joined Ben and Charlie, who were finishing breakfast, and received their duplicate log of the night.
Misses Nicholas brought him a mug of sweet tea, and he thanked her, asking it be coffee next time. “As you wish Dan, I’ll change it now.”
“No, next time, better not waste this. Anyone been to see us?”
“I’ve had some of the locals popping in to check us out, but other than that, only the poacher yesterday afternoon. He wouldn’t leave a message, but wanted to speak to you in person.”
“I’ll see him later. Lads, tomorrow is Saturday, do you need time off?”
Ben replied, “I’m fine. I’m not sure how long this is going on for, but I’ll work through till next weekend. If we’re still at it then, I’d like a couple of days off.”
Charlie added, “Same here Dan. Any idea how long this will last?”
“At the moment no, but I expect the operation to move on quite soon. It depends upon what we discover.”
Dan left to have a word with Percy, and checked the generator en route. It was almost out of fuel, so he topped up the tank, and took the empty jerry can to refill.
He spoke to Percy about time off. “Well, I would like to work five days per week, but I can do tomorrow. I need to take the wife to church on Sunday, and it is our custom to have a full Sunday lunch with the family and grandchildren afterwards.”
“You may as well leave on Saturday evening, I’ll see if I can relieve you early. Come back for seven Monday morning.”
Later he spoke to Cathy, who thought that between her, Kevin and Neville, they could provide cover. Dan was the reserve. Later he collected his car, and went to see Slugger.
“Let’s walk.”
“What have you got for me?”
“Four of them there airy plane numbers, an’ most of another. The flying club door was open ar-ter noon, and I saw two more of them little airy craft inside. They had propellers. Here, I wrote the numbers down fer yuh.
“Them there fences goes all around, but there’s no cameras at the back. That’s farming land. There be red dots on the back of two sheds to one side, I saw later that night. They be cameras. I’ll check in daylight.”
Dan took the piece of paper and gave the man a tenner. Slugger put his thumb on the note, and kept his hand out. Dan added another tenner, and Slugger was happy.
“Why do they call you Slugger?”
“I don’t rightly knows, and tis none of yer business. Could be me ways of hunting, along the ground like. Quiet as a mouse, smooth as a snake.”
&
nbsp; Dan’s eyes bored into Sluggers. “Well, I does like a we dram ar-ter work some time. Makes it me sen thee knows. I needs to check the brew though. Well, when the Misses’ hawk-eyes ain’t watching. Keeps it in the gutting shed I does. She doe go down them parts of me place.”
Departing swiftly, Dan headed for RAF Trimingham.
Dan chatted to the Commander, as he was led through to their operations room. It was not all that large, and only two corporals were working at scanners.
The Commander explained, “We are a forward head unit only. Most work is now automated, but we service the legacy local group. One is RAF Neatishead, which is mainly underground, but nearer your area of operations. Corporal Benedict, this is the man I told you about, Agent Glover of MI6. Have you the panel ready for him?”
“Yes Sir, this console here is set aside for the Agent’s use.”
“I’ll leave you to it. If you need anything, Corporal Benedict will assist you.”
Dan was shown the controls, and how to speed up the tracking replay. He studied the air traffic for some time before asking, “Is there any way I can take a copy of this?”
“No sir, the computer is only compatible with military specification.”
“Why does the transponder number sometimes change?”
“That’s air traffic control assigning a new number regards their area of control. They call it a squawk.”
Dan returned to the beginning of the feed, and used his mobile phone to video the display on fast-forward. Next to him was a real-time screen, which showed one of the transponder numbers. The aircraft was on a different course, headed for France. Intrigued, he monitored the flight for almost an hour. It landed in the wilds of southwest Belgium, near to the border with Luxembourg. Dan took a short video, before the signal stopped.
“Benedict, does the log output I have, contain all flights concerning the aircraft transponder signals I gave you?”
“No Sir, only those to or from your nearby field.”
“Have any gone to other parts of England, or Europe?”