by John Morris
They heard shouts and looked up. Others were coming to assist; Ayesha’s cousin led them. When they closed the distance, the cousin drew a gun, and told security to back off. They refused, seeing their own help coming in from behind.
The gun fired, narrowly missing Ayesha. He fired three times more, killing both guards, and the brute in the wristlock. They ran off in search of Ayesha, who had disappeared. No passersby had seen her, or were letting on, even with a gun waved in their face.
Sirens could be heard in the distance. The cousin called a retreat, and they headed for their cars. They were almost clear of the car park when a police van rammed into them, and armed police with rifles surrounded the Muslims’ cars. They were all taken into custody. Ayesha remained missing.
She had made it to the car park, and had scurried away from the threat by dodging between vehicles. She saw the Muslims reach their vehicles, and panicked. They would drive round looking for her. She found a Land Rover with an unlocked rear door, and scuttled inside. By the smell, it was a farmer’s vehicle.
She poked her head up from time to time, and saw the Muslims head for the exit, only to see them being stopped and arrested. Her heart flooded with relief. She was about to get out, when she heard a noise nearby, and someone unlocking the driver’s door with a key.
She hunkered down, the vehicle started, and moved forward. She wanted to escape, but the vehicle was going too quickly, and it left without stopping.
Ayesha didn’t know what to do, except stay put. She worried that if she got out at traffic lights, she would be lost, or others would recognise her. She decided to stay aboard, and sneak away after they arrived at wherever they were going.
After twenty minutes, the last two quite bumpy, the Land Rover stopped in a farmyard. The driver got out, and opened the back door. He stared at her.
Gabbling, she said, “Those men, the shooting. They were after me. Wanted me dead. I had to run. Sorry I am here. Nowhere was safe. Please, just let me go. Where am I?”
The man straightened himself, and looked down on Ayesha, a stern look in his eye. His brow furrowed, and he said, “Why were they wanting to kill you?”
“Sir, I ran away from a forced marriage, mutilation, it is horrific. Had I not done so, I would now be the slave of a man I detest. I would also be his mother’s servant. I just want them to leave me alone. I am British, and think like you do. Please, just let me go.”
The farmer’s expression lightened. “Ah, so thee be a damsel in distress. Come, let’s have a cup of tea and sort this out.”
He held out his hand to her, and she skipped down from the rear. He insisted on carrying her shopping, saying, “This is man’s work. Watch your feet, as there’s cow shit all over the yard, so don’t go treading in it and walking it into the house.
“Now, where are you from and who were those men?”
“I’m from Luton originally. I escaped, hopped on the first bus that came along, and ended up in Norwich. Those were bad men. My cousin had the gun. They were after me. You do believe me?”
They entered the farmhouse, the door leading straight into the kitchen, and the man said, “Beatrice, found a damsel in distress. Being shot at she was, down at that there shopping centre you sent me to. Never knew she was aboard until I got back. Fix us a cuppa, there’s a love.”
Ayesha settled, the warm tea and buns fresh from the oven warming her heart, and her stomach. They talked, and the wife said, “Call me Aunt Beattie, everybody does. Now dear, you can’t stay here, you know that, but we need to keep you safe. Fred, have a word with the local bobby, he’s sure to know about the shooting. I heard about it on the wireless, and was worried about you. Not that I’d tell you, of course.”
Farmer Fred Scully did as his wife suggested, and was on the telephone for several minutes. When he returned he said, “They’re sending a female policeman out from Norwich, but it may be a while. Here, let’s have a new pot of tea, this one is getting old. I’ll put the kettle on.”
Chief Inspector Wigglesworth was attending the mall crime scene, when she received a call from her duty sergeant. “Ma’am, something strange just came in. Old Fred from Hall Farm just rang the local nick, and he says he has the girl at the centre of today’s shootings in his kitchen. Apparently, she’s on the run from family in Luton, escaping an arranged marriage and FGM. He asked for a WPC. How should we respond?”
“Does she have a name?”
“Ayesha Hussein, Ma’am. “
“Okay. Send Carol out and bring her back to the station … wait. Ayesha Hussein. Luton. I wonder? Give me a minute, Will.”
Felicity rang Dan’s office, and Veronica answered, “Hi, can you look back through Alison’s files re Luton. I remember a girl being mentioned in one of the reports, an Ayesha Hussein, please check this out immediately.”
“Searching now … got it. The file is more of a fragment, but Ayesha’s brother, Waheed, reported most of our information. It’s a missing person report. She was due to be forcefully married to a mister Mohammad. The report says she refused FGM, and I can’t blame her. She ran away, and there’s been no trace of her since.”
“I think I just found her. What are her father’s, and her prospective husband’s father’s, full names?”
After a few moments, Veronica began to speak the names, but stalled. “Oh my God! These are the directors of Mohammad, Hussein, and Ali. I’m checking for mistakes, but this is a plumb bull’s eye.”
“Confirm as soon as you are certain. I am acting on this now, so be quick. Is Dan there?”
“Sorry Ma’am. He was called to London. Something is going on. Didn’t he text you?”
“Maybe. I haven’t checked my messages. Too much happening on the ground, but I knew it was likely. Tell me Percy is with you.”
“Yes, he’s practicing flying drones. Martin is helping him, and he’s doing really well.”
“Good, I need him to meet me at Hall Farm. Fred Scully is the farmer, it’s just outside of Lower Meddlington’s jurisdiction, but we’ve been there before. Ask him to leave at once. This could be most important. Ciao.”
She made another call. “Will, cancel Carol, I am going out there in person. I am out of contact, unless of emergency.”
Felicity took a moment to flick through her messages. Most were unimportant, but she read Dan’s, noticing he signed off with ‘love you, Dan xxxxx.”
She smiled, knowing her ploy of Saturday morning had moved their relationship forward a great deal. She had been worried about her gambit, but needed him to commit fully to their relationship, especially with a baby on the way.
Her thoughts were interrupted by an Inspector. After giving orders she got in her car and departed for Fred’s farm.
When she pulled into the long, dirt track drive, she saw Percy pulled aside, waiting for her. She signalled him to follow, and they avoided the cowpats in the yard, on the way to the kitchen door.
After introductions, Felicity spoke to Ayesha in the parlour, where she took an initial statement. There would need to be another, when all the facts were known. Percy chatted to Fred and Beatrice, enjoying oven-hot buns washed down with fresh, sweet tea.
An hour or more elapsed, as Fred and Percy swapped stories of times passed. The women reappeared, and Felicity spoke. “We’ll head back to the station, and I’ll arrange accommodation for Ayesha. Thank you, Fred, Beatrice, you have been most helpful, and made the correct call. I wish there were more stout-hearted people like yourselves in this world. We won’t overstay our welcome. Percy, time to go.”
Felicity stopped her car at the end of the long and dusty drive, and spoke to Percy. “I’ll find somewhere safe for the girl, she’s been through the mill.”
“Then take her to the inn, or better still, ask Stella to give her a room. She has enough bedrooms in that house of hers, and it’s close enough to keep an eye on, but far enough away from our operation. I dare say she could help out in the shop, as Stella is always having to call on Cathy, and others.�
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“Under consideration. Thank you Percy. I need you to go to where she has been living. Here’s the address. I need all her personal belongings brought out, and the bill for final settlement. I also need you to see the seamstress nearby, who was her employer, and deliver these bags. Tell her Ayesha won’t be back, and little else. Make a molehill out of a mountain. I know you can, even it involves a white lie. Needs must.”
“Yes Ma’am, I’m on my way. Oh, Inspector Wheeler spoke to me earlier, wanting me back on my old beat.”
“Did she now. I’ll have a word with her. Percy, consider yourself seconded to whatever I, or Dan, need you working on. I will make an updated, and official requisition in the morning. You work for me.
“You are one of the best I have ever known, at dealing with people, their emotions, getting information out of people. And I trust you, a rare commodity nowadays.”
“Thank you Ma’am. There’s one more thing, and it’s probably not important.” Percy glanced at his pocketbook. “It’s just that Stan said, ‘She often comes in to examine my archives, which are almost in order. She has asked some odd questions, as if she has foreknowledge, but never tells me anything. Sometimes I know the files have been tampered with in my absence, as if somebody has been looking at them. Only she and I have a key to the room, well, except for the spare key in the main key press. I’m getting a bit wary of her intentions’.”
“That’s strange. I’ll look into it. Go, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Felicity had a dilemma, she needed to keep Ayesha safe at all costs, but thought Stella’s house was too close to Dan’s operation. If she was a mole … well, there was no need to invite the fox into the henhouse.
On the other hand, the family had tried to kill Ayesha, and most definitely would have done so, if they discovered her whereabouts. The girl was bitter, especially after discovering she was adopted. ‘Bought like an animal’ were her exact words.
Felicity finished her considerations. The village was the right place, but working in the shop much too close. She made a call, and drove off, saying, “I may have found just the place for you. I’ll take a follow-up statement from you another time, let’s get you safe first.”
Felicity drove into the village, but parked at the side of the inn. She went inside and spoke to Brian, an agreement was reached. “So, I fix the girl up with a small room, and she helps in the kitchen, or where needs be. I’ll see if she can cook a decent curry. Been asked for that several times I has.”
“Thanks Brian, you won’t regret this. Let’s get her inside and settled in. She’s very western in her outlook. I owe you one.”
Chapter 35 ~ Pulling Strings
Dan collected Sinjun on Tuesday morning, and later he was introduced to the team. He asked for an office, so Dan took him to the dining room, which had all the facilities he needed.
Sinjun was soon at work, studying the videos they had on file. He would conference when needs be, and took meals with the team. He worked late, and was otherwise reclusive, except at the bar in the evenings.
Dan popped in to check progress every now and again, but Sinjun had already said, “With this amount of work, and detail missing, which I will need to discover, it will be Friday at the earliest, before I have this wrapped up. This must be a cohesive effort, timed precisely at each target, to effectively take them all out. I’m including Lillyworth Moor.”
As Sinjun worked, Dan caught up with the team. Alison was back, extremely chirpy, and regaling everyone about her exploits. She was distracting until another face they recognised from Luton, left Lillyworth Moor, and immediately work took focus.
This time Dan called the Director as soon as the car was spotted, the occupants again, two girls, a female, and a male driver. They were headed due west. The Director followed up immediately, and reported back. “Dan, I told all the same people, copying those we met on Monday. It appears somebody gave the Met’s anti-terrorist unit a bollocking, because they are mobilising and taking notice.”
“I’ll keep you updated Ma’am.”
“Expected. I am bringing up your live feed now.”
Alison said, “Dan, the Met’s dedicated liaison is asking for our feed as well.”
“One moment Ma’am. Give it to them, and also update as we find out more. We need to identify the target.”
“At the moment, that is looking like Birmingham, but until they turn off somewhere, it could be anywhere west.”
“Understood. You heard that, Director?”
“Yes. I hope the Met are up for this. I’ll ask them to fly up to Birmingham, so they are closer to the action, wherever that may be.”
“We better warn the Chief Constable trouble is likely headed his way.”
“I’ll call him now, Dan. Forewarned is forearmed. Ciao.”
Time passed as the team monitored progress. Alison said, “Dan, they’ve just turned off onto the M40, headed south.”
“That means the city centre in not the target. Options?”
“Birmingham International airport. Otherwise the National Exhibition centre, possibly Solihull. That’s about it, unless they’re taking the long route to Oxford, or say Bristol.”
“It has to be the airport. I need the Met ready to intercept.”
Moments later Alison looked up concerned. ”They’re still in London.”
“What!” Imbeciles. I was informed they were en route to Birmingham airport. This is a disaster. Call the Chief Constable of West Midlands immediately. Let’s see if we can limit the damage.”
Dan spoke at once with the Director. She called him back moments later, “Apparently they were waiting, ready to go, but would not leave until the target was identified. So, instead of being stationed at Birmingham International Airport, they are one hundred miles south.”
Dan shared sharp words with the Director, both of them at a loss to understand the Met’s lethargic response.
West Midlands Constabulary had an armed response unit standing by, due to the earlier call. They responded immediately by despatching a team of the best anti-terrorist officers to react to the threat. They had not arrived by the time the car did, but were closing fast.
She called Birmingham Airport, and told the Manager to put the entire airport under immediate evacuation. The manager stalled, until his own security reported the car pulling into the airport.
Dan called, and said something odd to the Director. “If you want something done, do it yourself, or choose the right personnel for the job. Without military, I think we should call the Press.”
“Good thinking Dan. I have several contacts, and will call them at once. I won’t say too much, but just enough to get their feet on the ground. I wish our security services responded as quickly. Ciao.”
The outcome was not as bad as Leeds, but the radical Islamic extremists slaughtered twenty-four people, and bombs devastated the terminal.
The Met’s forces arrived long after the threat had been dealt with, and mopping up operations were in progress. The Chief Constable, who was on site, told the Met exactly what he thought of their totally inadequate response. He had been briefed by the Director, and was intent on reporting them for gross dereliction of duty. He would take his case as high as he could, threatening court action. He demanded they leave at once.
The outcome was a proposal that Dan had left for the Director’s attention on Tuesday evening. Using the guise of the National Crime Agency, they would recruit a quick reaction force, and cut the Met out. They had proved useless on two occasions, and innocent lives had been lost, directly because of their inaction.
Dan was late home, tired and weary. His heart immediately lightened when he saw the lights on, and her car parked in its normal place. He went in the back way and grabbed her for a kiss, even though she was cooking.
She gave him a peck on the lips, before saying, “Not now Dan, the sauce will go all lumpy. Shower and change. You look like shit. Rough day?”
“And the rest. We were following the Birmin
gham atrocity, and should have prevented the massacre, except the Met stayed at base to twiddle their thumbs and toes. We are removing them from our sphere of operations, hopefully, putting real responders in their place. Enough. The rest was as is on the news. What’s for dinner, sweetheart?”
Dan nuzzled her neck, until she biffed him with a stirring spoon. “Back off Dan, shower, change, and you’ll find out what you are eating in due course. Leave me alone, do try out the bath, it’s amazing.”
Dan did as instructed, and took a bath. He played with the jet controls, and loved the massage effect on his tired muscles. It was fitted with a heater, so the water didn’t go cold, and he was almost dreaming when Felicity came in and poured cold water over his face. “Time to eat, lover boy. Five minutes, or it will spoil.”
When Dan hurried downstairs, the table was laid with a bouquet of flowers, and soldiers of just-toasted bread. Butter and pâté were close by. She joined him, pouring Spanish red wine for both of them, which was moreish, and suited the dish.
Some minutes later, she served steak with Café de Paris style sauce, Dan’s medium rare, and hers medium. She had added French fries, raw onion for Dan, butter-fried mushrooms, fresh salad, and coleslaw. Her final addition was a sliver of Stilton cheese, slid into a flap cut on top of the meat for the last minute’s cooking. It was delicious.
They finished the meal quickly, Felicity taking a bowl of ice cream, while Dan tucked into cheese and biscuits. Replete, they washed and dried up, and settled hand in hand on the sofa.
Dan said, “I should make my report, but could do it in the morning, I’ll be fresher then. The meal was sumptuous, thank you. Tell me about your incident. A shooting so I heard.”
“Humph. It would appear to be of little worth. Muslim hoodlums targeting a girl, determined to kill her for insulting their family honour. Those cretins have zero conception of honour, if you ask me. But never mind. I went to see the girl. Percy was there also, and she proved to be most interesting…”