by Ted Tayler
The group continued to analyse the infrastructure of the cells for the rest of the afternoon. Gradually, the white board was covered in names, dotted lines, solid lines and question marks. After a short break for their evening meal, they shut themselves away again.
The full extent of the threat facing the country in 2012 and beyond was all too apparent. Their surveillance section had highlighted around twenty terrorist investigations that the national security sources were currently working on. The Olympus Project’s in-house capability for tracking and monitoring internet and phone traffic was equal to anything out there in the big wide world, so there was nothing they couldn’t keep tabs on.
When you added to that the agents they had in the field who were experts in intelligence gathering, then Erebus and his colleagues had everything they required in order to mount a counter terrorism strike.
Erebus hadn’t told Colin Bailey everything on his grand tour; the Olympus group monitored the secret services too, so that if direct action was ordered they didn’t bump into any of our own people and expose the true nature of the Larcombe operation. At this stage though they were just building up a picture of the terrorist cell and monitoring its activities; if and when an attack on the streets of London was imminent, they needed to be ready to act.
Because of her personal involvement with the 7/7 bombings in London Athena was keen to be directly involved; her preference was for the cell to be smashed well before it got a chance to give an operation cell the green light to attack targets in the city. Erebus was more inclined to take the cautious approach.
“If we are interpreting the data we’ve gathered correctly, it would be foolish to assume we could eliminate the threat in one fell swoop Athena. There are a series of interlocking cells as Thanatos has described it to us on the board, and certainly in this case these cells overlap. We could not be certain that the entire cell has been disrupted.”
Thanatos continued with his analysis.
“We have recruited a mole from within the Muslim community to infiltrate the alleged plot. As I said earlier, progress is slow. Our man on the inside has to proceed with extreme caution. Two of the members of his link in the chain are brothers, another is their uncle; all three have been backwards and forwards to Pakistan this summer.
Their calls to Britain and internet communications have been under surveillance and our informant is supplying us with details of their movements in and around the capital now they are back in the country.”
Athena stood up and stretched; it had been a long day with no sign of it ending any time soon.
“If there are twenty initiatives under scrutiny by MI5 and ourselves, can we even be sure this is the most appropriate one for us to be focussing on?”
Minos was also unconvinced that they could select a target that would cripple the cell’s capacity to carry out an attack.
“There are too many players Erebus; we might need to remove fifty terrorists to eliminate the cell totally. That’s a non-starter! The Olympus Project has to continue for many years to come. Our work is too important to sacrifice resources on one element.”
“We might be able to take out the suicide squad on the streets” suggested Alastor “that might only mean removing three or four bombers.”
“It would still leave us exposed” said Minos “and we have other targets which need our attention. I vote that even if it means we risk a tragedy in the capital, we leave the matter to our nation’s security services.”
“God help us!” said Athena.
“What other targets are you alluding to Minos?” asked Erebus.
“Our high security prison population is perhaps twenty percent Muslim; possibly more. Over the last decade many are Afro-Caribbean and white Caucasian converts. The most radical prisoners have become very adept at targeting vulnerable prisoners and offering them protection and support through religion. They have plenty of time in which to do this after all. So we find a number of prisoners who on the outside are members of organised gangs being converted and then when they leave prison they are spreading the message. The risk is that more and more criminal gangs will be recruited by groups such as Al-Qaeda. The challenge of prison extremism is not going to go away.”
“We can’t send an operative into a high security prison to kill the more influential jihadists; it would be a suicide mission at worst. He would be charged with murder and banged up for the rest of his life at best” said Erebus emphatically.
The room fell silent for a while and then Athena spoke.
“Could we perhaps persuade the authorities to transfer prisoners to limit the influence of these extremists?”
“It would need our communications people to cover their tracks completely; any such instructions must never be traced back to Larcombe. If several of the ‘big hitters’ were put in a van and moved to another establishment, we could arrange an accident.” said Thanatos.
“The accident would need to be catastrophic. All the occupants would need to die; driver, warders and prisoners” said Athena “we can’t ambush the van and shoot the extremists; it would leave too many questions.”
Erebus spoke. “Prepare a plan Thanatos; the collateral damage is unavoidable. We have to think of the greater good.”
He continued. “We haven’t resolved this situation regarding the mole or the removal of our prison population extremists; we need to revisit those matters on another occasion. We need more intelligence in these areas Thanatos. See to it. If that means getting more people on the inside, so be it. If we need to invite one of their number to spend some time with us at Larcombe then we should organise that as soon as possible.”
Alastor asked “Would it be a ‘catch and release’ visit?”
“One way ticket only.” replied Erebus.
CHAPTER 15
Colin had arrived back in the West Country; he had sent a text to the transport section, suitably confusing for anyone monitoring mobile phone traffic but crystal clear to the drivers back at Larcombe, as the train was pulling out of Swindon.
‘Fireboy home in fifteen; hope to see you soon.’
He walked out of the station in the heart of the Roman city and straight into the passenger seat of the Olympus minicab.
“Good trip?” the driver asked.
“For me, yes” replied Colin.
The driver chuckled and eased the cab into the slow moving line of cars. It was a mild autumn evening and the trees were starting to shed their leaves in larger and larger numbers. Colin watched the changing scene as they drove out of the city into the countryside. He had been so preoccupied with his training over the past three months that he had forgotten how quickly time had passed. Today had been a breeze; he was back doing what he did best. He wondered what Erebus and the others would make of his performance. Would he get a gold star potentially?
The minicab negotiated the leaf strewn driveway and pulled up by the stable block. He was delivered to his door. He assumed any performance review was on hold until the morning at least. He thanked the driver for the lift and wished him goodnight. When he got inside his quarters he unpacked his rucksack and changed his clothes.
Colin was stood holding the pistol and thinking back over the past twelve hours or so. Would there be anyone still left in the armoury? Should he return the gun and spare ammunition tonight? It was then that he glanced over to his desk and spotted another ‘post it’ note on his laptop.
It was from Erebus again. ‘Pop in when you get back Phoenix. We’re working late.’
Colin stashed the gun and ammo in his locker and walked over to the main house. He found Erebus and the others in the drawing room; they were relaxing with coffee and some sandwiches. Thanatos waved a lazy hand towards the supper spread on the side table and told him to get something for himself.
Colin hadn’t realised he was so hungry. It was a long time since his lunch at the Snowdrop Inn and he had travelled back to Bath as quickly and inconspicuously as he was able. The luxury of idling away an hour i
n the restaurant car or the station buffets at Victoria or Paddington had been tempting, but too risky.
He was just about to bury his teeth into a salmon and cucumber sandwich when Erebus interrupted him.
“All went according to plan then Phoenix?” he said, sipping his coffee.
Colin was about to reply when Erebus put down his cup and continued.
“Your plan was carried out to perfection. DCI Richard Armitage was discovered by his playing partner on the Lewes golf course late this afternoon; he had been shot at close range. The Sussex police have no eye witnesses. They have very few leads to go on. A senior officer trotted out the usual stuff about ‘our thoughts are with the family’ and ‘a valued friend and colleague who will be sorely missed’ but the truth is they were glad to see the back of him; there is one bad apple less in that particular barrel.
Their investigation is centring on his earlier court case; the criminals he came into contact with while working with SOCA were somewhat upset when he managed to wriggle his way out of the charges brought against him. The drugs gangs have long arms. Any one of those whose members had narcotics planted on them or were involved in some of Armitage’s other money making activities could have ordered a ‘hit’. Our people in the ice house are contributing to the misinformation so that the local ‘plods’ won’t be tempted to think outside of the box.”
“Why am I not surprised that you’re so well informed.” said Colin.
“Needs must dear boy!” said Erebus.
“Should I return the gun and spare ammo to the armoury tonight?” asked Colin.
“Yes” said Thanatos “we have someone on duty twenty four seven. We have strict rules about items of that sort being above ground for any longer than absolutely necessary. They might be difficult to explain away if the charity commissioners dropped in for an unannounced spot check tomorrow morning.”
“I’ll finish my sandwich and get back to my quarters then” said Colin “I’ve secured them in my locker for the time being. I didn’t know how long I’d be tied up here.”
Athena allowed herself a brief smile.
“Did you imagine you might be tied up then?” she said quietly.
“A man can dream” replied Colin and made to leave.
“Hang on Phoenix!” called Erebus “we have another direct action for you to start planning for.”
“When do I leave this time” Colin asked “in the morning? No rest for the wicked I suppose.”
“I hadn’t realised we had agreed to Phoenix being the right man for the Dunfermline problem.” whispered Athena. Erebus laid a hand on her arm.
“I believe that he is the right person, without question. However, we still have intelligence to be gathered in that regard. Direct action won’t be decided upon until we have everything we need to hand. In the meantime I think Phoenix needs a change from a policeman don’t you?”
Erebus invited Colin to sit back down.
“Sir Godfrey Penrose is a former Parliamentary Under Secretary of State for Defence Personnel, Welfare and Veterans. He stood down at the last election after a long career in politics. His father was a Brigadier and after Oxford University he went into the City and dabbled in corporate finance, management consultancy or some such. He never joined the regular army like his father, but he spent several years in the Territorial Army.
The Tories saw him as a ‘safe pair of hands’ and after contesting a safe seat in the Home Counties he got a reputation as a solid backbencher for the first few years. He had a couple of minor posts with Education and Transport before ending up with Defence. We believe it was on his watch that many of our former colleagues got a raw deal. Have you heard of the Armed Forces Covenant Phoenix?”
“Can’t say that I have” Colin answered.
“Put simply HMG has agreed to enshrine in law its duty of care to its serving service personnel; it has agreed to sustain and reward them for the rest of their lives. The House of Lord’s are playing silly beggars with it at the moment but everything should be signed off well before Christmas. Our veterans should be better protected than they have been hitherto. We have investigated Penrose thoroughly and found a few black marks against his name; apart from the veterans who suffered deprivation and a distinct lack of ‘sustenance and reward’ before their deaths.
There were rumours about incidents that took place while he was involved with the TA during their so-called Annual Camps. These are an intense period of learning for any reservist, whatever their rank or level of experience. The more junior members focus on basic skills such as first aid, map reading and weapon handling. Several eighteen year old males and females found themselves in close proximity to the future MP in tents scattered across the Brecon Beacons and Dartmoor.
The rumours, since confirmed, described how these youngsters would wake up in the night to find Penrose lying next to them; he would touch them intimately, on some occasions the assaults included penetration of both sexes. The victims were frightened and confused; for many it was their first sexual experience. Penrose told them it was all part of their training; he convinced them they needed to cope with adversities. If they cried out or struggled when they found themselves in action, they could give away their position to the enemy, endangering the lives of their comrades.
The victims are still living with what happened; they continue to blame themselves despite the passage of time. We sent agents posing as documentary film makers to interview these men and women, now in their thirties and forties; evidence was recorded with their faces never appearing ‘in shot’ and their voices heavily disguised. This persuaded them to tell us everything; we paid them for their co-operation but warned them that as an independent company we couldn’t guarantee that the programme would ever be shown ‘on air’.
They had found the courage to tell someone about the abuse they suffered by a man who was supposed to be their protector and carer; it was a gross breach of trust. Some may have come forward in the future to try to get the justice they deserve; we will not wait for that to happen; we will personally ensure that Sir Godfrey Penrose receives the correct punishment for his heinous acts.”
“Can I have a dossier on this Penrose character?” asked Colin.
“It will be with you first thing tomorrow morning Phoenix; pay a quick visit to the armoury tonight and then get some well earned rest. Good night.”
“Goodnight Sir.” Colin replied and then said his good nights to the others, reserving an extra little nod towards Athena and left the drawing room.
Colin was up bright and early; when the dossier arrived he was ready and waiting to start on his new assignment. He reviewed the information that Erebus had given him last evening and paid closer attention to the more recent material that the surveillance section had gathered. Since he had retired from politics, Sir Godfrey had taken a couple of non-executive posts on the boards of fairly prestigious companies in the City.
“He’s not short of a few bob is he!” exclaimed Colin.
He looked down the list; there was a one-bedroom flat in Egerton Gardens, Knightsbridge valued at just short of two million that Sir Godfrey used when he was in town on business. The family home was a converted barn near Stowmarket, Suffolk which weighed in at a cool one million and finally he owned a modest two bedroom cottage in Princeton. This was very much a rural property and buying on this part of Dartmoor requires a particular love of moorland and foul weather. The raw beauty of perhaps the last wilderness in England took some beating. Colin noted that the property could be reached in less than half an hour by car from Plymouth across the moor via Yelverton. A little light went on in Colin’s head and he started to formulate his plan.
It appeared Sir Godfrey also owned several luxury cars to take his pick from when running around London plus a couple of top marque Range Rovers to use in the country. Sir Godfrey had married Penelope Bradley in 1977; they had no children. She had been the only daughter of a wealthy wine merchant and these days appeared to spend all her time in Suffol
k drinking her way through her late father’s cellar, plus the additional bottle or two from Waitrose. Colin tried to work out how often the couple actually spent any time together; it was eighty days per year at most. Less, if they didn’t get on perhaps?
The rest of the day was spent in planning mode; Colin made a list of all the items he would require when he travelled further west to have a few final words with Sir Godfrey Penrose. He asked the surveillance section to find out if the Dartmoor cottage was a regular weekend retreat for the happy couple, which he doubted; or whether Sir Godfrey had a male or female companion that shared his rural bolt hole. Or was it that he had bought the cottage so that could escape the mad, mad world in London alone to recapture his younger days camping out on the moorlands?
Colin was right about one thing; there was no evidence that Penelope Penrose had ever visited the property. Her married name reminded Colin of a programme that Sharron had liked when she was little, but he couldn’t bring the title to mind. It was possible that Godfrey had some company in his London pad, but again, there was no evidence to suggest that the cottage was being used as a love nest. As far as the surveillance section could ascertain Sir Godfrey let the train take the strain on Thursday or Friday afternoon and travelled back late on Monday. “The joys of a non-executive post” thought Colin “grafting three days a week maximum for a small fortune plus share options! Nice work if you can get it.”
The problem was the frequency of Sir Godfrey’s visits; it appeared to be random. Colin checked the local press for events that might attract the former politician; he was sure a car boot sale in Yelverton was not for him, and he couldn’t imagine him having signed on for the local darts team. No, it had to be something more refined surely!
Just when he was thinking he might have to change his plan and stake out the pad in London, with all the problems of trying to get rid of a body in Knightsbridge, he stumbled across the answer. There were all sorts of courses and expeditions taking place across Dartmoor throughout the year, where young people faced all sorts of adversities trying to complete elements of an Outward Bound scheme or a Duke of Edinburgh award. Sir Godfrey at seventy years of age was probably past the rough and tumble of his earlier TA days, but he was still a voyeur at the very least. He got his kicks watching the youngsters scrambling around the moors in all winds and weathers; was there more to uncover though, time would tell.