by Glenn Carter
Paul wiped the tears from his eyes. ‘Okay Mum. I’ll stay.’
‘Good boy.’
‘Thanks for talking. Can I phone you again soon?’
‘Anytime, my dear.’
Two days later Paul, Sharav and Rachel walked into a large lecture theatre filled with young people. There was a buzz of excitement as the new recruits anticipated the start of the winter training. The only vacant seats were at the front, so the three of them reluctantly made their way forward and sat down. Soon William and four other adults came into the room and walked to the front. Paul recognised William, Rob and Natalie but hadn’t seen the other two before. William stepped forward, smiling at the audience.
‘Welcome everyone. Welcome to the MI2 training school. I’m here to tell you a little bit more about what to expect and to introduce you to the team. My name is William and I am the Deputy Director of MI5 & MI2. My remit includes cyber counter-espionage, Northern Ireland counter-terrorism and as you know MI2. To my left is Rob Montgomery. He heads up the intelligence officer development programme. Beside him is Esmee Mirren.’
All eyes turned to look at the stiff backed, sharp nosed, red haired woman whose thin lips were clamped shut in a straight line.
‘Esmee leads on intelligence and data analysis. Then we have Dominik Richter who will teach the majority of the technology modules. Dominik stepped forward, shaking his head. He looked like a wild professor with white hair that stuck out in all directions and staring green eyes. He had oily skin and wore an oversized brown corduroy jacket and grey trousers with what looked like a grass stain on one knee. Dominik cleared his throat.
‘No. Two corrections please!’ The audience noticed Dominik’s strong German accent. ‘First correction. My name is Dominik Dunkel Richter. I can see you are all very interested to find out what the names Dunkel and Richter mean?’ He looked up, wide-eyed, glaring at the young people. Everyone stared back at him. ‘Vell I vill tell you. In German, ‘Dunkel’ means ‘dark’ and ‘Richter’ means ‘judge’. Dark judge if you like. I can see that you are liking that name. He smiled broadly, scanning the audience. No-one smiled back. Yes, now second correction. I lead the technology development, but I also take the rigorous physical training and self-defence classes.’ Paul whispered to Sharav, ‘I can’t believe he does the self-defence. He looks like a burst teabag!’
‘First years, indicate to me if you think you are physically fit,’ Dominik said with a flourish of his right hand.
Initially only a few hands went up, then more followed. Over half of the audience had their hand in the air when Dominik let out an explosive cackle. ‘Ha Ha Ha NOOOOOOOOOO!’ Dominik’s face went red. ‘You think you are fit. You are not. I look at you and see you are fit like a group of unfit slugs.
‘Thank you, Dominik,’ William interrupted. He raised his hands in a calming motion. ‘What Dominik is trying to say is that the physical programme in MI2 is very demanding.’ William looked to his side again. ‘So last, but not least we have Natalie Harper. Special agent Harper is one of our field agents in MI5 but also has overall responsibility for our first years in MI2. Now do any of the other course leaders want to say anything? How about you Esmee?’ Esmee’s eyes narrowed and her lips became thinner as she reluctantly stepped forward. ‘She is so scary,’ whispered Rachel. There was a short pause and then Esmee said, ‘It is lovely to see you all, so it is.’ The recruits looked at each other in astonishment. They had expected a sharp, unpleasant voice to come from her thin lips. Instead what they heard was a warm, gentle Northern Irish accent. Esmee continued. ‘We are going to have great craic here in MI2 learning how to analyse data and come up with beautiful solutions.’ Her tone and warmth embraced the audience like a soft, fresh towel. Some of the audience laughed quietly with surprise.
William smiled, knowingly. ‘Listen first years, if you look behind you, you will see our motto. He pointed towards the back of the lecture theatre, at the Latin words on the wall, ‘Pro libertate. For Freedom.’ That is the core value of MI2. Freedom. We are here to protect the freedom of the citizens of the United Kingdom, whom we serve. Freedom that many take for granted. Freedom to live and prosper in a country that tolerates differences, celebrates choice and upholds peace. However, my young friends, our enemies are many. They want to undermine our society and tear us apart. They use terror in an attempt to destroy our democracy and we must not accept that. David Crossman once said, ‘When you give in to bullies, you don’t just empower them, you encourage whatever methods they employ to achieve their ends; usually terror and violence.’ We will not be bullied into submission. We are here to fight back. MI2 is an essential part of that fight. We must be stronger, faster and brighter than those who wish to destroy us. There are 80 young people in this room. Our new recruits. You are here for a reason and you should be congratulated for getting here. You are a talented group, but you must remember that talent will only get you so far. Talent without character is meaningless. The pass rate is low and the dropout rate is high. We are looking for the best and we need young people with fire in their hearts. Fire to make a difference and to protect the people.’ He paused and was about to continue when a couple of people in the audience started clapping. The clapping spread until the entire group was clapping loudly in response to William’s rousing speech. William looked embarrassed and signalled for them to quieten down.
‘Thank you. One last thing. MI5 is often referred to as ‘Box 500’ or ‘The Box’. In part, this was due to its wartime address, which was PO Box 500. At MI5 we refer to MI2 as the ‘mini box’. The box is an apt name for these organisations because when you work here, it can feel a bit like living in a different world. Those outside this world can’t and don’t get to understand it. It may therefore feel a bit insular. You can’t tell anyone that you work here. This is for their protection and yours. If you are found to have shared your position with the outside world then you will immediately lose your place here at MI2. Your cover story will be that you have joined the Territorial Army and have to attend regular training events. Any questions?’ Looking around William saw that there were none, so he continued.
‘Right, you have four weeks of intensive training until the end of January. Get stuck in. I’m sure you will have fun as well. Now off you go.’
20
Shopping
During the next couple of weeks, the recruits were trained in a range of skills that MI2 operatives would need. Paul had taken Mary’s advice and was working hard, knowing that the more he learnt about the world of spies the more likely he was to find his father. He was regularly overcome by crushing worry about his father, but he coped by pushing it down and trying to distract himself. Paul often tried to put all the pieces of the puzzle together in his head, ‘So, Dad is a spy and he’s been captured. The gang who have kidnapped him really want to get some information out of him, but Dad won’t talk. So the gang have tried to kidnap Rachel and me in order to make Dad talk. Perhaps as long as we are safe, the gang will keep Dad alive.’ But Paul knew that wouldn’t last forever. ‘Where was he? Dad didn’t get to finish his sentence…’ Paul tried to remember. ‘Did he say, ‘You’ll find me up North or was it at North… something?’ The gang members at the community centre certainly seemed to be talking about his father and one of them was going up to Scotland. But what about this Sabre? That was the original clue. We need to uncover Sabre.’ Paul had been keeping a close eye on as many agents and employees of MI2 and MI5 as possible, but there wasn’t anyone acting suspiciously.
Paul buried his thoughts and, driven forward by an inner determination, he kept learning. Paul was naturally gifted but particularly excelled in fitness, close combat and surveillance. He had also shown he could make quick and accurate judgements. Paul enjoyed Rob’s sessions the most. Rob taught them how to carry out surveillance on foot, how to lose a tail if you were being followed, how to lie when under interrogation and how to break into houses. Burglary wasn’t something Paul expected to be taught, but he found t
hat it was a particular strength of his. He quickly mastered lock-picking and had a flair for bugging houses by installing microphones and cameras.
Rachel was naturally drawn to Esmee. Esmee quickly warmed to Rachel and they could often be found talking in the canteen about their shared passion of analysing intelligence and data. ‘Without analysis we are doomed,’ Esmee would often say with a gentle tone.
Paul and Rachel just about tolerated Dominik Richter’s classes. But Sharav strangely enjoyed them. Sharav acknowledged that Dominik was eccentric and unpredictable, but he was able to put up with his quirks because Sharav loved the technology. Technology made sense to him. It was black and white, ones and zeros, on or off. Sharav was engrossed as they got to learn about cyber security, hacking and cyber espionage. He had a lot to learn but he knew this was an area he wanted to find out more about.
After a couple of weeks William called Paul, Rachel and Sharav into his office.
‘You three have done well so far. Really well in fact. The entire training team has been impressed by your skill and commitment. In fact, Rob has recommended that the three of you access what we call our accelerated development programme.’
The 13-year olds looked at each other.
‘That basically means you will access all the regular training but will have more opportunity to participate in additional field work. Nothing dangerous at first but the live field work will certainly sharpen your skills and knowledge. It’s an opportunity to learn from the best. Anyway, are you all up for that?’
Paul wasn’t so sure. Did that mean they would have less time to work out who Sabre might be?
‘I’m not sure,’ said Paul. ‘I’m really keen to get back up to Scotland soon and see my Mum.’
Rachel shook her head, ‘Paul we need to do this. It’s a great opportunity. William, we’ll do it.’
Paul looked over at Rachel surprised at how firm she had been.
‘Right, well perhaps you could give it a go first of all. Rob has suggested a great opportunity that’s coming up tomorrow to spend time with the Royal and Specialist Protection Team. The RaSP team are a specialist unit of the Metropolitan Police who provide armed protection for royalty, the Prime Minister and other VIPs who are potential targets.’
Sharav tried to stifle a ‘Wow,’ but it came out loud and clear.
‘I’m not sure what they are up to on Friday but whatever is happening, I’m sure you will enjoy it,’ said William.
The day arrived and the three teenagers were dropped off at the RaSP headquarters at 10am. They were met by a very tall, thin man with a strong London accent.
‘I’m Sergeant Adam Palmer and I’ll be showing you the ropes today. You can call me Sergeant Palmer.’
Sergeant Palmer towered over the three young people. They looked up at him as he continued to talk unsmilingly. Paul caught a glimpse of his Glock 9mm pistol barely concealed inside his suit jacket.
‘We are on active duty today, so I expect perfect behaviour from the three of you. And just for the record I am doing this as a favour for William. Personally, I don’t agree with taking small people on duty. Follow me’.
Soon they were in the back of a black BMW driven by a woman called Caterina who was, to their relief, much friendlier than Sergeant Palmer. They were driving in convoy with a Land Rover Discovery and were being escorted towards the centre of London by three white motor bikes. Caterina smiled round at them.
‘Good to have you with us today. I hope you enjoy yourselves. How has it been so far?’
Sharav hesitated, ‘Well Sergeant Palmer met us at headquarters. He seemed,’ he hesitated again…
‘Like a grumpy old git!’ said Caterina finishing Sharav’s sentence. ‘Don’t worry about him. His bark is worse than his bite. Wait that’s not true. He’s fierce and his bite is really bad, but he is the best we have. He has a 100% record in protecting VIPs and I’ve learnt everything I know from him. He’s ill-tempered but really good at his job. Anyway, let me tell you a little about how our unit works. You see the motorbikes up front?’
They all looked out the front window and saw one motor bike directly in front of them and the other two taking turns to speed up to the next exit or junction and stop the traffic to ensure the convoy got through.
‘They are the Special Escort Group. You will notice that our vehicles will never stop, even at rush hour. Stopping significantly increases the risk of a serious incident occurring. The lead biker is the only one who knows the route we are going to take. He communicates to the other riders where to go next. They used to use sirens but everyone in London is so accustomed to the noise that they don’t take any notice. They have gone old school now and use whistles instead.’
Paul glanced at Rachel. He had expected her to be thoroughly enjoying the trip, given all the cool cars and motorbikes involved. Instead, her face was tense and clammy, and she was staring at the back of the seat in front of her. He gave her a nudge, ‘You okay?’
Rachel smiled but her eyes didn’t, ‘I’m fine.’
After a couple of minutes Paul asked, ‘So where are we going?’
‘We are going to pick up Cirrus and escort her, would you believe, to a shopping centre,’
‘Cirrus?’ asked Sharav.
‘Oh, sorry yeah. Cirrus is our code name for the Prime Minister.’ Caterina looked back and enjoyed the look of surprise on all their faces. ‘This is a great opportunity for you to see how we protect the most powerful person in the UK.’
‘We have come across the PM before,’ said Sharav, smiling at his friends.
Ten minutes later the convoy swept into Downing Street. They turned the car around and waited for the PM to come out of number 10. Caterina pointed, ‘If you look out the back window, you’ll see the Jaguar XJ Sentinel that Cirrus uses to get around. That is a beast of a car. It’s worth £300,000 and has loads of additional features. So, let’s think. Obviously, it is bulletproof. The cabin is titanium and Kevlar-lined. There is a 13mm explosive resistant steel plate under the body. Oh, and gun ports so that officers can return fire without opening the windows. Also, it has an independent oxygen supply in case of chemical or biological attack. Officers can release tear gas if they need to disperse crowds. Not to mention the high definition TV and surround sound system. Basically, a beautiful-looking tank.’
Then they saw the PM, a couple of aids and three members of the RaSP team walking briskly out of number 10 into the waiting cars. Paul was finding it difficult to contain his excitement as they travelled in convoy through London. What should have taken forty-five minutes took them fifteen. They had been joined in the car by another RaSP officer. Caterina explained the purpose of their trip.
‘The PM planned this about a week ago. She is determined to go out and buy a present for her daughter. She has been advised by our unit that going to a shopping centre during the day is high risk and it will be difficult to ensure her safety. She was having none of it and basically told us to ‘get it done.’ So normally approximately six RaSP officers would accompany her, but Sergeant Palmer has put nine officers on duty today along with about twenty uniformed police officers at the shopping centre.
When they arrived all nine RaSP members jumped out of the cars and moved in formation around the PM and her aides. Paul, Rachel and Sharav fell in behind them as they moved towards the entrance. There were uniformed police officers at the entrance to intervene if required. The PM spotted the three young MI2 agents and asked for them to come a bit closer. They were pulled into the inner circle.
The Prime Minister greeted them warmly. ‘Paul, it’s great to see you again. That incident on the big wheel is all a bit of a blur, but you saved my life that day.’ She turned to Sharav and Rachel. ‘And to both of you. I’m reliably informed that you managed to capture my assailant! Amazing. Now to something just as challenging. Can you please assist me in choosing a gift for my daughter?’
‘I’d be happy to help,’ replied Rachel.
Soon the group approached a
small pop-up shop in the middle of the concourse that had a range of toys and gadgets. The PM was keen to make a purchase quickly. Particularly as Sergeant Palmer had communicated to her in no uncertain terms that the maximum time they had was ten minutes. Rachel helped her search through the toys. She pulled faces and shook her head as the PM pointed out several unsuitable gifts.
Rachel directed her attention to a circular fish tank. There were a number of colourful fish swimming around in the sealed tank. The prime minister cast her eyes over it asking the shop keeper, ‘Are they real?’
‘No,’ smiled the owner, ‘they are robotic fish that have sensors which make them act like real fish.’
‘Ah, low maintenance!’ exclaimed the PM, ‘That’s perfect for Sophie. Real fish wouldn’t last a week in her bedroom. Plus 10 Downing Street has this pesky cat that has a long history of killing all sorts of creatures. We can’t have real fish. I’ll take it.’