by John Morris
Dan replied, “Me also. Sir Jack needs to be briefed, so I need time away to write a specific report for his eyes only. Tomorrow is the day we run out of governmental dithering options. You will need to prepare to evacuate the MI6 building, when I give the word. Ma’am.
“The British intelligence community represents the biggest threat to these Muslim strikes, even more so than America in this instance. They must plan to take out MI5, MI6, and all intelligence centres. Damn! GCHQ.”
Dan was on secure telephone immediately to Doug Simmons, and minutes later, spoke of the threat to Sir Jack. “So, we need to install antimissile missiles, antiaircraft missiles at GCHQ and Bude. I can think of many other critical targets. I’ll get on it at once, and also have pairs of interceptors standing ready nearby.”
“Thank you, I should not have overlooked this threat, but these are definite targets, as was the Pentagon in USA. Put two Harriers with cannons at GCHQ, ready for immediate takeoff. They might try to take the building intact, and use our resources. You’ll have my report within the hour, Sir Jack.”
Dan returned home mid-afternoon to eat and sleep. He would be on duty again in the small hours, and work straight through. This was his last chance to recharge his batteries, for whatever was to come. He slept until four a.m., and was back in the office twenty minutes later.
“Update, Veronica.”
“Isolation of Islamic communities is almost complete. We did not foresee riots, which began after dark, and are still continuing across the country. This is somewhat dissociated from the Islamic threat I believe, although there appear to be pockets of Muslim youth. The racial mix is such that I can’t define, more than add, the disenfranchised and troublesome kind of people, are taking advantage of the situation.
“Large numbers of police are on the streets, and looting is rampant. We currently have a sort of stalemate. The police tried water cannons, tear gas, and in two instances, fired rubber bullets. In Muslim held areas, on all occasions they were met with a hail of live machine gun fire.”
“Don’t the police chiefs have the wit to stand down, leaving a light force. They’ll need these officers tomorrow, when the real strike begins.”
“I already tried that, and the police are a law unto themselves. One commander even swore, told me to go away, using two words.”
“’Fakir off’ I presume. Unfortunately, they appear to be fakiring themselves. Tough, time for a change of regime.”
Veronica’s eyes looked up apologetically. “There’s more. The ethnic cleansing has already begun. In some towns, non-Muslins, and by that I mean white British people, were allowed to leave. Regards other towns, they only just crossed through the barricades, before being gunned down from behind. In some instances, there are reports of bodies lying in the street, the houses taken over for the Muslin cause.
“The worst of it is, there are no children leaving with their parents, or young, pretty girls. I dread to think what fate will befall them.”
“Child rape and enforced prostitution, menial and sex slaves. The others, the boys, will become indoctrinated as jihadists. Grim.”
“The last thing you may already know. Parliament is due for a full debate on the European crisis today. All MPs have been told to attend.”
“The last Parliament. Ben, tell me some good news.”
Ben remained silent, until Dan’s eyes fixed him. “There isn’t any. The skies have been full of aircraft tonight, and I can’t keep track of all of them. All are recorded.”
Dan hopped in a chair beside Ben, and reviewed. What he saw was anything but good. He knew they had underestimated the Muslin capability. He helped Ben get up to date, and then wrote a new report.
As the clock ticked towards six o’clock, he sent copies of his standard version to everyone with interest, including the Minister for Defence. He added a further analysis and information for his Director, and Sir Jack.
Military and police usually change to morning shift at six a.m., that being the time they are on duty. By then, the team knew that RAF / USAF Lakenheath, and nearby support station, Mildenhall, were under Islamic control. They had old, but deadly F15s. The team did not know what the cargo planes that arrived from Lillyworth Moor were carrying. There were no drones available.
Dan cursed. “I asked the USAF for permission to set drones, and they refused point blank. I should have done so regardless, if nearby, and not technically on U.S. soil.
Dan called Percy to come in and relieve Ben, as Alison walked through the door to relieve Veronica.
Chapter 45 ~ War Commences
The morning of Friday, 23rd November, saw an increase of Islamic strikes all across England, some extending to Wales, Scotland, Northern, and even Southern Ireland.
Across England, many Muslim councillors crossed the floor, taking over town, county, and city councils. With the majority vote, Sharia law was introduced. Opponents were shot dead. Those councils that could not be overturned by vote were attacked with traditional or chemical weapons. Bristol had been a warning, ignored by the authorities.
Dan called Felicity urgently, and discovered Norwich council was still working as normal. “Put two armed teams in place, and keep safe. They are killing people. You had better do similar for Wymondham. They are probably a Muslim council by now. Ciao.”
News was slow to filter through to the public at large. The first some knew was when they were being evicted from their homes by Islamic militia, or executed for being Christian. These atrocities occurred in Muslim safe havens, and few incidents reached the light of the outside world, despite the internet, social media, and cell phones.
Public attention, and that of the authorities, was diverted by the breaking news that Luxembourg had announced it had become The Caliphate of Luxembourg. The news swamped all media channels, until the same occurred in Belgium.
The media were agog. Normal TV programs were cancelled, and the press ran rolling updated editions. The EU buildings in Brussels were under siege, many having been taken using chemical weapons.
Dan was one of a handful of people Sir Jack kept in close contact with. “I spoke to the Prime Minister, but he told me I was overreacting. He was then called away in emergency session. Neither he, nor the Minister for Defence has yet returned my calls.
“I was given polite, if short, shrift by Her Majesty, she informing me my current role may soon come under review. It’s like waiting for Damocles’ sword to drop.”
“Agreed. Alison has just informed me the House of Commons is in full emergency session. Same with the Lords. I doubt we will have to wait long before you are in charge, Sir.”
“As soon as I am, we action our counter-strike offensive, which is already being promulgated via secure military channels, to the units concerned. The F15 Strike Eagles are a serious threat that we are working on to take out. Wait … One squadron have just taken off, destination: south.”
“London. This is where it begins, Sir. I’ll get teams in situ to cover the worst case scenarios: Islamic control of airports.”
Next he called his Director. “Ma’am, you need to evacuate now. Go to the secure bunker at once, and you lead the way. Now! You have minutes only to escape, or you will all die.”
Dan spoke similarly to MI5, and tasked Alison with contacting all other key institutions. He issued a series of orders to the team, who responded immediately. They had real-time video of the London controllers on the main screen, so it appeared not all were in motion. Then the feed was cut. They were evacuating.
Alison said, “Martin, can you start a log of major events, in UK and Europe. I’ll add it as a new box to the main screen.”
Dan said, “I’ll help set you up.”
Alison passed through the first information, and Martin gulped. She shrugged her shoulders. Dan looked at the feed, then at Alison, who elucidated, “A public declaration, broadcast on Al Jazeera states, ‘Turkey is now a Caliphate of ISIL, and all borders are open. Head for Europe and seek absolute vengeance upon the unbe
lievers of Allah’.”
Reports of other European governments under attack followed, but Bude were tracking eight SCUD missiles. Derek told Dan, “They are already in Greater London airspace. The targets are central.”
The information was augmented moments later when Tom called. “RAF Boulmer are tracking eight SCUD missiles, they are seeking a socket to your team.”
“I’ll arrange this via Alison, thanks Tom. Send her the secure key. Today is going to be rather bad, but tomorrow, things should improve. We should be preventing this atrocity, not waiting for it to occur, so we can finally take the offensive.”
Normal military channels were working in enhanced mode, and advised the centre of London be evacuated, they had one minute, not long enough. The SCUD Ds had been monitored, interceptors scrambled, but too late. The missiles were not brought down.
The warheads were guided, and the first landed central in The Houses of Parliament. The towers at either end withstood the blast, Victoria Tower was leaning, and the Elizabeth Tower housing Big Ben appeared critically fractured. The outer wall of Westminster Hall stood for minutes, before collapsing.
Nearby, Westminster Abbey, Downing Street, The Home and Defence Ministries, were destroyed. MI5 and MI6 were also taken out, and the last struck the City. The largest cultural treasure, Saint Paul’s Cathedral, had not been targeted.
Alison reported, “Eight more Scud D’s en route to London, they must have sixteen launchers, they take ages to reload.”
But for the armed forces responding directly to the threat, what remained of power in the United Kingdom appeared to be in Muslim hands. Urban streets and suburbs became guerrilla warfare battlegrounds, and the civilian defence forces had little idea how to react. Few had anything remaining of a chain of command, and what remained of London was under siege.
Then came the F15s, they took out buildings at Gatwick and Heathrow, but left the infrastructure intact. Passenger jets from Lillyworth Moor began to land at each airport, delivering militia, and suicide pilots.
Sir Jack came over secure military comm. “Dan, the Queen just approved military action, almost apologetically I might add. We just began our operation to take out all airbases and Lillyworth Moor. We will also strike at Lakenheath, and the Yanks can protest all they will, but they ignored our warnings. I’m of a mind to operate the base ourselves, at least for now.
“Mildenhall will also be struck, but we are low on manpower and resources. Being a supply base, it will be the lowest priority. Two destroyers are now approaching London from Thames east, and should provide a mighty backup. We also have interceptors closing on five of the eight Scud’s, and hope to have enough missiles to take them all out.
“I need your team to monitor the country at large, which councils survive, which do not, and a detailed map of all areas under Islamic control. Remain vigilant for aircraft, or other forces.”
Dan replied, “We will continue to retake Gatwick and Heathrow. Bristol is for you to overrun, Sir Jack. Most of our tactical forces, and chains of command are still functioning, if from places of greater safety. We may need munitions backup from the Services.”
“Someone from the Army will contact Alison. Other matters need my attention, there’s been a dire development. Keep up the good work, Dan, and keep me in the loop.”
Dan briefly wondered what that could be, but focused on his duty. He called Felicity. “It’s as you called it Dan, and I’m now in what remains of the Norwich council chamber. We saved most non-Muslim councillors, and two Muslims who did not cross the floor. The building is secure, and we’re responding to riots elsewhere in the city.”
Dan spent several minutes informing Felicity of how these riots had proceeded nationwide. “Contain the situation, but do not try to intervene directly. Even after your snipers believe they have taken out all of their snipers and mortar positions. This is regardless of what is happening inside the no-go area. It is a trap to take out police response. I’ll send you a file in a moment, for promulgation to all commanders in the field. Tell Karen at Lower Meddlington, that we’re about to retake Huntley Spa Aerodrome. I’ll call her direct when the base is under our control.”
“Thanks Dan, this is a nightmare. Will I see you later, it’s been so long, and I really miss you.”
“Hopefully. I’ll see you when the worst of this is over. Once the military declare Martial Law, it will be largely out of our hands, and we will return to monitoring and advising.”
Dan set about a short, tactical review of what the Muslims were most likely to do in Norwich, or any city or town that was not already under Islamic control. He sent the file as an attachment to Felicity, then forwarded it to Alison. “Please disseminate this to the Chief of Police in each city and town not as yet under Islamic control. You better CC the Chief Constables as well.”
Dan had just finished speaking when Sinjun came through the door, accompanied by Stella. “You will need extra pairs of hands, what with London backup out for the time being. Where do you want me?”
“Thanks Sinjun, Stella, that’s a big lift. On drones I think. Alison?”
“Stella, learn what Martin I doing, I need him helping me. Sinjun, take Lakenheath and Mildenhall. The Army are just giving us live feed for analysis.”
“Ahha! Analysis is my forte, Alison. I’ll plop down next to Percy.”
After months leading up to the main event, the team were hit with feelings of anticlimax, as others began to take the War For Britain back to the Islamic pretenders. Streets of the capital flooded with troops, who employed guerrilla warfare tactics.
They slowly reclaimed important areas of the city, and secured what remained under British rule. The attack at Heathrow had not been successful, but the airport was largely unusable.
Passenger aircraft under ISIL control had already take off from Gatwick. Navy destroyers took out most. Only two got through, and decimated Saint Paul’s Cathedral, and the Bank of England. Nearby, the London Stock Exchange was already a pile of rubble.
In other parts of the country, F15s continued to cause damage to critical infrastructure. Dogfights developed over Birmingham, Liverpool, and Portsmouth, amongst others. Tornados and Harriers countered them, the latter proving to be the weapon of choice. They became the first aircraft to take down any F15 during war, seven in total.
In a fluke, a Tornado added one, but the Typhoons, operating from long distance, took out the remainder. England had won the second Battle of Britain, and the mood of defending forces swelled immensely.
The next move was to take back the cities under Islamic control. Volunteer ex-military reporting for duty swelled British forces. They had been forcibly retired by a government desperate on saving money, disinterested in any form of defence. They were eager to resume battle. All three services and special forces gained many experienced soldiers.
No one had anticipated the most dramatic moment, when the media became flooded with footage from Buckingham Palace, where the black flag of Muhammad had been raised. The outer gates, which visitors from all over the world loved to visit, were writhing with press. Tanks and howitzers, plus the cargo aircraft that had delivered them, could be seen in the wings. Islamic jihadists carrying automatic weapons with live rounds, had replaced uniformed guards wearing bearskin hats, who lay dead and trampled in the dust.
Jeeps with large machine guns to the rear, patrolled the grounds, and menaced the press for effect. To the astonishment of the onlookers, the Coronation Throne was brought out front, central to the building and gates, and deposited on the ground.
Moments later, an old woman wearing royal finery, and carrying the Royal Sceptre and Orb, was dragged to stand before the Throne of her own Coronation. Her legs were kicked from under her, and her symbols of office, followed by herself, hit the ground. The leader dragged her to a kneeling position, and resettled the crown on her head.
To the horror and grief of the on looking press and TV film crews, he drew a long, sharp sword, brandishing it, whilst spoutin
g many Arabic words.
He drew the sword back, and practiced several blows to the neck of the monarch, drawing blood. The crowd were silent, a few commentating in hushed tones. The militia in control of the palace were chanting in Arabic.
The sword was raised higher than before, and swooping down, cut off the head of Queen Bethany II in one blow. The executioner repeated his previous words in English. “I now declare the Islamic Caliphate of England, and by this act of dethroning, become the supreme ruler of the United Kingdom, and all its dependencies.”
Militia played football with the monarch’s head, while others rushed to the leader’s side, as he sat on the coronation throne, and words were said in Arabic. The Crown was placed upon his head, followed by the sceptre and orb in his hands.
He rose and declared, “I am now the new King of the United Kingdom. All people will bow to Allah, or die. As my titles now include ‘Defender of the Faith’, I declare the only religion that may be legally practiced is Islam. I instigate full Sharia law immediately. This is Allah’s will, as given to me. Go, or be killed.”
Many of the press were slow to react, seeking all of footage. Two jeeps approached the gates, one from either side, and began firing arbitrarily at the massed press corps. Many reacted too late, but some survived to tell and show the tale. It repeated on national TV.
Dan watched stone-faced. “That may, or may not have been the real Queen. We do not know. She uses body doubles.
“The victor was correct. One of her main obligations of office was Defender of the Faith, Protestantism. Her sister became a Catholic, and she did nothing, nor acted to restrict mosques all over the UK. We witness the result. We could run facial recognition, but GCHQ are much better at that than us. I will call them immediately.”
Later, Veronica and Ben arrived for nightshift and were briefed. It was emotional for all, and those relieved of duty tarried at their work.
Felicity arrived after eight o’clock that evening. She was stressed, worn out, and needing comfort. Those working late joined them, headed for the pub, a drink, and evening meal.