Islamic State: England

by John Morris

  Dan completed his reports, and updated his personal log. He was about to send, but sat back to think. His thoughts wandered, but came to encircle a strange thing. “Why have I just bought a derelict house in the middle of nowhere?”

  His alter-psyche provided an answer. “Felicity Wigglesworth.”

  Dan jerked himself upright, and dismissed his thought. He had work to finish, and filed his report. Frustrated by his admission, he took ten minutes of hard exercise, and went for a shower. The Director had placed a video call when he returned. “Yes Ma’am.”

  “Dan, this is excellent work. You are honing in boundaries I see. Can you tell me where the progression is headed?”

  “Not officially. It is too early, but unofficially, they are moving into towns and large villages, ones that affect the electoral role and vote, to the west and south. We have picked up little to the northwest, and nothing to the direct north or east.”

  “I’m worried about the bigger picture, these other airfields. They are coming in, in droves. We need to know where they are going, and you need to be promoted to follow the all of this.”

  “I will be there on Monday, Ma’am, and pass the course.”

  “Do you need some help, I have a folder I could send you.”

  “No Ma’am, I’ll do it my way.”

  “Yes, you always do. That’s what’s so infuriating about you, and because you are usually correct. Tell me something?”

  “It will take a few days, but we will do the next outwards ring, and that should give us their pattern. I need to assess what is happening locally around the other airfields, and would prefer feet on the ground. I could go myself, take myself away from the centre, and that’s not good. We could try to work with MI5, but that usually turns into a disaster. Or we can wing it.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Once Alison switches to concentrate on these other cities, and we get the pattern, as compared to the one we have almost established, we’ll know what to look for. I’ll take Percy on a jaunt up there. He’s excellent with police of his own level. The aim is to get names of individuals, companies, charities, councillors, and law firms.

  “My next move is to track demographics as regards cultural balance and voting shift. We believe it will remain ‘LibLabCon’, but with most councillors being Muslim. That’s the pattern we have established so far.”

  “Good. Include Luton, it’s a hotbed of extremism, but seldom in the national news. Follow up with the paedophile rings, up north. This shows gang culture, tribal allegiance. You know, the ones that have hit the headlines recently: Rotherham and Bolton, Rochdale, Bradford, Sheffield, and so on. Work through them. This is where the Muslim community is in denial, and we need to know.”

  “Yes, and with Birmingham, Tower Hamlets, education…”

  “Dan, what is it?”

  “We already have Luton listed. Sorry Ma’am, I just had a thought. Education. If there’s nothing else I’ll get back to you.”

  “Hold. You need staff, so I’m sending Martin Edwards to you, he reminds me of yourself at a younger age. This will happen as soon as you pass the promotion course, so report to me as soon as it completes. In person.”

  “Ma’am, always a pleasure.”

  “Hmmm. If I didn’t know you better, I could almost believe that. Now be off with you.”

  Dan pulled up the MI6 website, and researched Martin Edwards. “Damn, he’s just like I was. Thinks he knows it all.”

  Dan shut down in a hurry and called Alison. “We’re downstairs, waiting for you.”

  He checked the clock: seven-twenty. He had no idea where the time had gone, but tempus fugit. He went downstairs and found Alison and Stella laughing at the bar, telling tales.

  “Welcome Dan,” said Brian. “A pint of the usual?”

  “Thank you Brian. I see Stella has joined us tonight.”

  “Yes, and that’s strange. She’s usually playing cards in the snug.”

  “She’s a regular here?”

  “Of course. Comes in every night.”

  Dan took long drink and said, “In for a penny, in for a pound.”

  Brian put his elbows on the bar and looked at Dan. “I’ll tell you a secret, Stella is not her given name.” He flicked his eyes to a lager dispenser, ‘Stella Artois’.

  Dan locked eyes, and nodded with appreciation. He was shaking his head as he left the bar, wondering how little he knew of the village and its occupants. Stella proved to be fine company, but he left shortly after the meal, advising Alison to do the same.

  Dan woke early the next day, his first task being to call to the Peterborough director and report. He knew that if he told the truth, court actions would swiftly follow. “I’ve visited all the farms you listed, and there are some inconsistencies we continue to look into. If we prove the Ali brothers’ documents are false, what will you do?”

  “Rescind the title of transfer, and take them to court.”

  “We will assist you in that respect, but we have not proven our case in law. So please leave this with us for say, one week.”

  “Thanks Dan, I knew we could rely upon you. How are my staff doing…”

  He spoke to Alison. “This is a bit of a curved ball, but can you check out the local schools, say Wymondham and area. See if there’s been an influx of new, Pakistani children.”

  “Sure, but it’s a bit odd. You playing baseball?”

  “No, cricket. Make the links: families equals children, equals schooling. I need to know where the immigrants’ kids are being educated. There should be hundreds. If not, we need to go digging.”

  “Gotcha! Wow, that’s neat. A tough cookie, but I’m on it.”

  Time seemed to fast-forward, as Dan discovered it was Friday afternoon, and he was running late, if only by minutes. He had left work early and got the fresh produce he needed to cook for Felicity: breads, olive oil, herbs and spices, meat, fresh fruit and vegetables, plus Chianti.

  He neared the Police station just before five and made a call. “Felicity, I’m ready to begin. Cooking will take over two hours, so can you let me in?”

  “I’ll be here for another hour at least, so the timing should be good. I’ll pop out front with the keys. Use the back door of my house.”

  Once in her home, Dan set to work at once, putting the wine in the fridge before making an assorted Italian cheese béchamel from a rue. He browned the diced beef, added fresh herbs and spices, onion and garlic, and plum tomatoes, then left it to simmer for a long time.

  Meanwhile he made an avocado mousse, topping the sundae glasses with arranged prawns. He followed with both chocolate and lemon zabaglione. Once prepared, he set them in the fridge and opened a bottle of wine. He was sitting down, waiting for the oven to preheat, when Felicity walked in. “I see you are hard at work.”

  “I have been working exceedingly hard. You must be tired. Like a glass of wine?”

  “Yes please. Oh this smells good, what are you making?”

  “Lasagne. I’m just about to layer it.”

  They chatted for a few minutes, before Felicity went upstairs for a soak in the bath. Dan put the completed lasagne in the oven, prepared garlic bread, and ratatouille. He set the table, added candles, and some dips. The stage was set.

  The meal was a great success, Felicity loving the thought Dan had put into the meal and presentation. She intended to only eat one zabaglione, but ended up eating both, Dan finishing with cheese, biscuits, and port.

  There was enough left over for a second meal, so Felicity put away as Dan washed and dried up. She made Gaelic coffee, and they relaxed to music in the living room.

  They chatted a little at first, before holding hands and mellowing in the others company, they had no need of words. After a tiring week, they went up to bed early, and slept early.

  Chapter 22 ~ New Beginnings

  Their lovemaking the next morning was slow and tender, and they lay whispering secrets in the afterglow. The mood was shattered when Alison called. “
Dan, Stella wants to know if you need her to come over.”

  “What? Maybe later, after lunch. I’ll call you after we’ve had a good look at what needs doing. How’s your day going?”

  “I’m fine, and you are not required. Enjoy your weekend off.”

  Felicity reached up and gave Dan a peck on the lips. But before it could lead anywhere she skipped out of bed and said, “You make the coffee while I get ready.”

  “Fine, I’m still too stuffed for breakfast.”

  “Me, too. Let’s take brunch later. That was a wonderful meal.”

  They wandered down to the house and went inside. By the front door lay a delivery note. “There’s a secure package for me at the Post Office, sent from Peterborough. I won’t be a moment.”

  Dan returned and opened the courier despatch. “It’s from the Land Registry, confirmation I own this house. I have the Title Deeds. Now we can begin.”

  “Oh, let me see.”

  They read the pages together, and came to the last sheet, showing the property boundary. Dan stared at the map.

  “What? The land extends all the way down to the river. This is amazing, a smallholding. Dan you’re so clever.”

  “No,” he chuckled. “Lucky maybe.”

  The following inspection was a lot more detailed than previous, and they noted things as they went through each room in turn. “The electrics are rubber insulated, it will need rewiring, but the water pipes are copper, so they’re okay.”

  “You should add central heating as well. It’ll add to the value.”

  After the tour, they settled in the kitchen, where Felicity wrote a list of initial things that needed doing. Dan said, “It’s a shame the old, double Aga is coal fired. Gas, oil even, would be much more convenient.”

  “There’s a main agent in Norwich, and I know they can be converted. We also have gas in this village, so it’s feasible.”

  “Before I commit money to this project, I need a structural survey, and valuation, plus estimate after full restoration.”

  “Wise. No use throwing good money away on a lost cause. But I very much doubt this house is one. Let’s check out the final rooms, before stepping into the jungle outside.”

  The attic was partly floor boarded. It had a window to the rear, and was full of junk. It was similar with the cellar, but the walls and floor were dry.

  The rear was overgrown, and overgrowing again. They battled their way through thigh high grass with brambles rampant, avoiding hazards such as a pool. They skirted the old and crumbling concrete cover of what appeared to be a sceptic tank, and reached the workshop. Peering in through grimy windows, there was little to see.

  Dan stood back to view the strange building with two wide, arched doorways. “I think this was a coach house. We’ll need a locksmith out here, better add it to the list. What about you?”

  “The rear of the house is southwest facing. I think we should add a large conservatory extending from the sunroom.”

  “I like that idea. Let’s see if we can reach the river.”

  The way was difficult. Felicity called a halt. “We may as well be trying to hack through Sleeping Beauty’s forest. I’ve seen what I need to. Let’s head back and get mowers in.”

  As they retraced their steps, Dan said, “I bet Kevin and Neville would be up for a day or two’s mowing, and Percy probably needs the same. Does anyone around here rent out professional size rotor scythes?”

  “Yes, Joe’s Mowers. He does all types and sizes. Most of these types of service industries lie along this road, between Lower and Upper Meddlington. There are a few small farms within the catchment area of the two linking roads as well. If your field is good for hay, we may be able to do a deal.”

  They got back and locked up. There was little purpose in staying. Felicity said, “I know of this canal-side pub that can’t be reached by road. It’ll take us an hour to walk there, fancy going?”

  They enjoyed late lunch, and a few drinks, before heading home, but meandered along the way. They made love in a cornfield, and wallowed in the heat of the early autumn sun. “Why’d you get this house, Dan?”

  “I asked myself that same question the other night. The only answer I got that made any sense was you.”

  “So this is our house?”

  “Yes, even though it can never work out between us.”

  “You are wrong, Dan. It is working out between us. Let’s give it some time, and you will realise I am correct. Come, it’s time we made our way home. The sky clouds, and chill winds will follow.”

  “We need to move on.”

  There was something in the way Dan said those words, a look in his eyes. “Yes, I believe we do. That begins tomorrow when you meet my mother.”

  The rest of the weekend passed quickly. At one point, the Group Captain took Dan aside, and they talked about work. “Alison and Sarge are working on a new deception theory. These airplanes don’t always use the same transponder signal––you discovered that, I believe.”

  “Yes I did Sir. It is a most worrying development, and it comes at the wrong time. I’m away on a promotion course next week.”

  “Damn. Can’t you postpone it?”

  “No Sir. If I do not pass this hurdle, somebody else will be put in charge of this operation.”

  “You better pass the course then. What’s troubling you?”

  “Well apart from your daughter, Sir, could you check to see if any of the aircraft we are monitoring, have ever used an unknown transponder signal for a split second, one we do not know about. I have a list.”

  “There have been blips.” Tom took the paper adding, “ I’ll check into this, it may take a few minutes, excuse me.”

  The Commander stepped into his office, and Dan wandered outside to call Alison. She said she was fine, but Dan decided, as was his plan, to drop by and see her in person.

  He returned inside, and the Group Captain came to him promptly. “We have three such instances, two of which divert within a split-second. By that I mean, a transponder signal we are not logging.”

  “Yes, we need to log not only the known transponder numbers, but the ones that appear for a jot or tittle. I will need these logged as well, and that raises the question of physically identifying each aircraft.

  “You think they may be swapping transponder numbers between a group of aircraft?”

  “Possibly, or using a set of numbers for each one, and destination. Don’t forget, the ones they squawk here on landing, belong to the light aircraft up near the hangar. I need the T’s crossed and the I’s dotted.

  “Tom, this operation is still growing. I need a handle on Europe, and I do not trust their security services. Help us if you can.”

  “By that you mean tracking these unknown transponders, and satellite identification of each aircraft. If that were stated as an additional operational requirement, and given you are promoted, then you can request this directly of me. Do we understand one another?”

  “Yes Tom, thank you. I’ll be in touch shortly, late Friday.”

  They were interrupted by the approach of Misses Wigglesworth. “Now what are you two boys doing hiding in here. Talking about work no doubt, when far more important issues are at hand. I think we should have a marquee for the wedding reception, what do you say Tom?”

  “It may be a bit early, Margaret.”

  “Nonsense, these things take ages to plan––then there’s the bridal gown, and dresses for the bridesmaids…”

  Dan turned to one side, and appeared to answer a call. “Sorry to spoil the party, but I’ve been called away, work, anti-terrorism. I hope you will excuse me.”

  Felicity read his ploy, and acceded. “Yes, we must go. Let me drive you to the airport.”

  Dan grinned. “Thank you, and thank you for a wonderful meal. I look forward to the next. But, Felicity and I are still dating and are both sorely wounded from past relationships, so please put the wedding plans on pause until much later. We are not ready, yet. Ma’am. Sir.”
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br />   Once in the car, headed away, Felicity said, “I can’t believe you said that to my mother. You’ve got some balls, Danforth Glover.”

  “What? Such talk is way too early for us, so I put her in her place. You saw your father grinning as I did so, didn’t you?”

  “Yes. I fear that will make an even bigger impression on her. She’ll be ordering the wedding cake next.”

  As they pulled into Lower Meddlington, Felicity said, “Do you want to stay for dinner?”

  “Yes I do, but I can’t. I need to check on Alison. There is information for her, and then I need to pack a bag and get to London tonight, rather than an early rise tomorrow.”

  Felicity said, “I’ll miss not having you around.”

  “Me too, we fit together somehow. I can’t explain it.”

  “So my mother wasn’t wrong then, just badly timed?”

  “I did buy that house with you in mind, maybe a place to make our own, someday. I don’t really know, and I must go.”

  “So, you are still running away from commitment, Dan. That’s understandable, but if you want me, that has to stop.” She leaned in to kiss him on the lips, and sensing his encircling arms, threw off her seatbelt and bolted out of the door. “Call me every night.”

  Uncharacteristically, Dan threw himself into the finer understandings and workings of bureaucracy, and came second on the course. He met his director on Friday. “Congratulations, I knew you could do it, and it seems you excelled. That’s what we need here, but don’t quote me.

  “I herewith, promote you to Commander, responsibility, Operation Caliphate. Please sign for you new ID, and give me the old. Stay and set up your office, it shouldn’t take long. I presume you won’t be occupying it most of the time, and that’s fine.

  “Martin will come to you later next week, as something came up. He’s a good kid. I say no more, except: Teach him.”

  “Ma’am.”

  “Tonight there will be a celebration in your honour, held at the club, full dress and tie. I know you scrub up okay, but what about your lady friend. Has she got anything suitable to wear?”