While Dave was waiting, drinking coffee in Euston station Major Joe Cullen was sitting across the desk from Mark James, there was only the two of them in the room. The meeting was to be off the record. “Can you tell me what you have achieved this week?” “David Stretton has been searching through current and former field workers checking for anything in messages they may have sent or received, during and after their service, he has gone back five years. Staff in the MOD are going back further including,” he watched for a reaction as he continued, “those who have died.” “Why are you investigating dead people?” “They, may have started this threat, and subsequently passed it on to others before dying.” “Major, are we any further forward now, than we were last week?” “We have eliminated a lot of people and that is always the first action at the start of an investigation.” “Your best man, who I am paying £5000.00 per week, has achieved nothing, your own people haven’t found a suspect and you are now chasing the dead. It’s not a very good first week, is it?” Joe Cullen felt like a schoolboy in front of the headmaster for doing something wrong. “You need to give me results, I want to see progress.” He indicated that the meeting was now over.
Walking back to his office, he stopped at a bar for a drink, he sat with a beer thinking about the encounter he just had, he didn’t think there had been a reaction from the Home Secretary when he said they were checking on dead workers. It was 19.30 when he entered S417, Chris was sitting behind his desk. “This has come for you sir,” he passed over a hand delivered letter. In his office, he sat down at his desk and read the contents. He leant back on his chair holding the letter in one hand, tossing it back on the desk, he closed his eyes and went over the meeting earlier. Something had triggered Mark James, his department and the MOD were to drop their enquiries into the possible bomb threats. The letter stated that resources, both financial and physical, were now in place to allow the Home Office to carry out their own investigations. Patronisingly, he was thanked for the effort his department had put in.
Something had triggered the letter, something that he had said, there could be no other reason.
On Saturday morning, Dave sat up in bed, Sally had brought him a coffee, she was busy getting ready to play tennis. “I’ll be back by around lunchtime, see you then.” Hearing the front door close, he slid back down the bed and shut his eyes. There was thinking to be done, he had two completely different issues to deal with. The first one had just closed the front door. It was a long time since he had a relationship that lasted more than a few weeks. He had never settled long enough anywhere, the nature of his job could send him off for weeks on end. That was never a good thing with a girlfriend. Now there was Sally, he was happy being in her company and had enjoyed the occasional night they had spent together. Now she wanted something more, would she want him to settle down, become like nearly everyone else? He decided, as he had done for most of his life, to wait and see what happens.
His parents had sent him to private school until he was of secondary school age when he transferred to the local comprehensive. His posher accent set him apart and made him a target for bullies in the beginning. They soon kept away when they found out he would fight back. He did well and left with four “A” Levels, his parents thought he would join the Army as an officer cadet and go to Sandhurst, however, he had other ideas, he signed up as a soldier in the Signals Regiment. He enjoyed it and did well, twice it was suggested he had the ability to be an officer. At twenty-five, he transferred to Military Intelligence, he spent the next six years at a desk or out in the field gradually being given jobs that were increasingly critical to the defence of the country. S417 wasn’t on any of the MOD lists, most of the staff who worked in the same building, didn’t know of its existence. A lot of the work came directly from the Government, Dave was one of the few, who were allowed to carry weapons and to use them. The instances were few and far between, but when he needed to, he would use deadly force. He had spent part of his training in Hereford with the SAS, to ensure his surveillance and fighting skills were the best they could be. The constant stress of the work had taken its toll, Major Cullen had tried to retain him, but Dave had told him that it was time to go and he respected that. They liked each other, had he taken the officer route he guessed they would be of equal ranking.
His other concern was the list of three names in the notebook Freddie had given him. He had wanted to get started checking the names, but would leave it until Monday. There was a link between the Home Secretary and Roger Peterson, of that he was sure, what it was, he had no idea but on Monday he would start to find out.
Closing his eyes, he slept until midday.
He got out of bed and showered, moving into his bedroom to dress, he saw there was nothing in his wardrobe other than the backpack. In the bathroom his shaving gear was gone. He opened one of the wardrobes in Sally’s room, his clothes were all hanging neatly, in the bathroom his razor was on a shelf above the handbasin. He found the clothes he wanted and dressed, downstairs he decided to skip breakfast and have a large lunch. He prepared a bowl of salad for them both, Sally had bought a cooked chicken, he sliced the breast on one side thinly and laid it out on a plate, he opened a packet of ham and put the contents next to the chicken. It was all very healthy, Dave spoiled it by putting sausages in the frying pan, he had bacon ready to join it when the time was right. The front door opened and Sally came in. “You timed that perfectly, lunch will be ready shortly,” “Can I have a shower before we eat?” “Yes, you have about ten minutes.” She was back as the bacon and sausages were coming out of the frying pan. Pointing to the salad, she said that it was healthy, but the contents from the frying pan would clog up his arteries. “You won’t want a sausage and bacon sandwich then?” “I didn’t say that, I said it was unhealthy.” Sally thought there was no way they would eat all that, Dave knew better, he hadn’t eaten for almost twenty-four hours. “How is your arm?” He pulled back the plaster to see, the cut was open but healing, “could have done with a stitch or two, but it will heal.” Sally wanted to talk but Dave was eating, by the time they had finished there was nothing left. There were two glasses of squash Dave had poured out, his was empty, he refilled it from a jug on the table. At last, he sat back on his chair, wiping his lips on a piece of kitchen roll.
“Do you want to tell me any more about last night?” “There isn’t much else to say, I think I broke his jaw with my punch, he went down like a sack of potatoes, I had to drag him out the way of the car or I would have had to drive over him. I’m mad with myself for not avoiding his knife. I’m not sure he will want to rob anyone in that car park again.” He was smiling as he said the last part. “He could have stabbed you, how can you talk about it so casually.” “There was no way he was ever going to stab me, it wasn’t much really.” Sally wanted to know if he checked the attacker was OK and not dead, “would he have been bothered if I was alive or dead if, he had stabbed me?” Sally changed the subject onto his suit and shirt. “There’s blood on everything, I don’t think the cleaners would get it out.” “Throw it all away, I will get a new suit, probably this afternoon.” “Do you want me to come with you?” They agreed to walk into town.
There weren’t many shops selling suits, they ended up in Next. Dave worked his way through the jackets trying on any he liked. He struggled with putting them on, his arms and chest made them feel tight. There was a dark blue one with a subtle fleck that he liked and it fitted, he could move his arms freely and was able to fasten the buttons. Trying on the matching trousers Sally said how smart it was when he came out the changing room, she had picked out a pack of shirts, and a couple of ties. “I hope the shirts will not be too tight on your neck.” With the choice made, Dave checked to see if they did the jacket in a larger size. “You’ve already got the jacket, what do you want now?” “I want to see if they do it in a larger size for when I need to take my friend with me.” Sally had a puzzled expression before realising what he meant. There was no larger size in the shop, he asked as they were paying, if there were any available, the assistant checked, there was, he ordered it to be delivered. They walked back through the market, which was starting to pack up. Dave could smell fish and chips, he was still hungry, Sally pulled him past the shop, “I’ll cook us something nice this evening.” She cooked a lovely meal which they had at the dining room table, there was a bottle of wine to go with it. They took their coffees and the last of the wine into the living room, Sally curled up on the sofa next to Dave. “I told my friend Olivia that you had moved into my room, she said it was about time, we’re invited to hers next Saturday to a dinner party, I said I would need to ask you before I could say yes or no.” Dave’s initial reaction was to say no, but he thought if there was to be a future with Sally then he would have to meet her friends. “OK, that would be good, but, if something happens with work then…” He didn’t finish the sentence, he didn’t need to, Sally understood.
“Tomorrow, you are going to walk off all the rubbish you have eaten today. If the weather is dry, then we should go out together.”
When she looked out the window in the morning, the sun was shining, Sally drove, she stopped in the carpark of Bradgate Park, a large sprawling country park on the edge of Leicester. It had been the home of Lady Jane Grey, the six-day queen who was beheaded. Just inside the gates, Sally pulled him off the main path and up the side of a steep embankment. It was much quieter that way. They could see down on to the main path, it was like a busy pavement. Slightly further on, he saw the ruins of an old house, just in front were a herd of deer. Sally stopped at a place where they could sit down, she was leaning against him, occasionally there were other visitors who had taken the same path as they had, but for most of the time, they were alone. “Why did you come to Loughborough?” Dave had often wondered that himself, “I’m not sure, I remember my father mentioning Garats Hay as being an army base. I thought the name was odd and I found it on a map. I saw it was near Loughborough, perhaps the name stuck in my head. I can’t think of any other reason.” Sally had another question, “why are you driving for Uber, you’re much better than that?” “I enjoy it, it requires no thinking whatsoever, after my time in the Army, you have no idea how important that is. Eventually I will get fed up and find something more demanding, but for now I’m happy. Happy with the job and happy to be with you.” They moved from where they were sitting, the path sloped down towards the main path, they kept to the side away from the hoards. The gate into the ruins was locked, so they carried on walking. Eventually they had walked across the park. Outside the gate was an ice cream van. Dave bought 99’s, back inside the park, they found a bench that overlooked a reservoir, there were a couple of fishing boats out in the middle. The sun was hot and the ice cream was melting fast. Dave had finished his, Sally handed what was left of hers for him to eat. Wandering slowly across the park, Sally had her arm through Dave’s. They stopped at a pub for a very late lunch, it was now 16.30. Back home just before 19.00, Dave took a cold lager from the fridge and sat outside on a garden chair, listening to the birds singing. Sally seeing him went out to join him, sharing the lager, they sat there silently until the birds stopped singing.
Dave went for a shower, returning downstairs with a towel round his waist Sally watched as he sat down. She had seen him like this before but now she could look more closely. Apart from his physique she noticed there were scars, some small others much larger. “Where did you get those scars from?” “Occupational hazard, long time ago,” was all he would say.
The next morning, he was in the spare bedroom by 09.00, the first thing he did was to check his bank balance. There had been no money paid in. His phone was ringing, “David, you’re off the case, we’re all off the case. After my meeting on Friday night, I had a letter telling me that it was being taken over by a team from the Home Office.” “That’s bollocks, something you said had made him do it.” “I agree, but for now don’t do anything.” “Sir, I have more information on Roger Peterson.” David, until you hear any different, do nothing, I have to speak to my boss.”
He sat staring at the laptop screen, it was waiting for a password. Dave switched it off and closed the lid. He took his car keys, leaving a note for Sally he left the house. In the boot, he took out the Uber stickers and put them on the side of his car. He switched on the app and waited for a ‘ping’ to say there was a job. He was kept busy most of the morning, when there wasn’t a fare, he would stop at a food trailer and chat to other drivers waiting for jobs. When Sally returned from work, there was a motor cycle courier parked on her drive. “I have a delivery for David Stretton, does he live here?” Sally nodded. “I can take it.” “No, I have to give it to him personally,” “He’s not here, his car is gone. Let me go inside and see if he has left me a note.” Dave’s note was on the table, ‘change of plan, gone Ubering’. Sally phoned him, “Dave there is a man on a motor bike here, he says he has a delivery for you, he won’t give it to me, you have to come back.” Ten minutes later he was talking to the courier. He had to show him photo ID before he would give him the package.
Dave placed the brown padded envelope on the kitchen table, Sally was making coffee. “Are you going to open it or just stare at it?” “I’ve opened a hornet’s nest, someone is going to get stung very badly, I need to make sure it isn’t me.” With a coffee in front of him, he opened the envelope, Sally was standing on the other side of the table. There were two more envelopes inside, one was a letter, the other he could feel was a card, he opened that one first, it was a pass to enable him to enter the MOD building through the staff entrance. He passed it to Sally, “I haven’t seen one of these since I left.” Dave now slowly opened the letter, he recognised the writing, it was from Chris, ‘meeting arranged for 10.30 tomorrow morning, attendees, David Stretton, Major Joseph Cullen and Brigadier James Storey.
PS, don’t be late. Chris’. He gave it to Sally to read, “shit, what have you done?”
“You know I can’t tell you and I shouldn’t be showing you this, but it might be something or nothing at all, I will find out tomorrow.”
Upstairs, he found his running gear, “I’ll be back in an hour, I need to have things clear in my head.” He ran through the university campus and out towards the motorway, before turning back, taking a different route. If Sally had asked him later where he had run, he would have difficulty remembering. His mind was trying to process the events of the last week, it was like trying to complete a jigsaw puzzle with only half the pieces.
At the house, Dave went straight upstairs, his thoughts needed to be written down before he was distracted. Writing furiously on his pad, he didn’t hear Sally tapping on the door, she was holding an unopened can of lager, he stopped when he heard the noise of the can being opened. “Do you want a drink?” Dave nodded and returned to his writing, she put the can down on the desk and tried to read what was being written, it was scrawl, only the odd word was legible. He swigged from the can, Sally saw his vest was soaked in sweat and sticking to his back. When he stopped writing, he finally spoke, “sorry about that, I wanted to write down my thoughts before I forgot them.” “You call that writing?” “I will write it out again, before I type it up.” “You need to get changed, I’ll run you a shower, what do you want to wear afterwards?” “Shorts and a tee shirt please.” He locked the writing pad in his briefcase, he assumed she wouldn’t have read it, but was taking no chances. His clothes were on the bed, Sally was now downstairs preparing their evening meal.
He sat back down at the desk, ripping off the notes written earlier and putting them to one side. On a fresh page he began again, this time more slowly and more legible.
Facts I know to be true
Roger Peterson has three identities unknown to S417.
He sent an email two days after his reported death.
His last field of operation was in Hong Kong.
He returned there shortly after leaving the service.
Mark James, Home Secretary spent time in Hong Kong working for a merchant bank, although not at the same time as Roger Peterson.
Roger Peterson’s file was accessed by persons unknown, all information relating to his last job has been redacted.
Facts I assume to be true
Roger Peterson is alive and living under one of the acquired identities or a different one.
Someone in S417 is leaking information.
Conjecture
The bomb plot is a hoax, used to find out how much information we know.
Someone will be shot and killed soon, it will be the supposed bomb plotter. The Home Secretary will accept the kudos for the operation and a low-level insignificant terrorist will be dead.
If we discovered the redaction on Roger Peterson’s file, either we would assume it had been done for security reasons, or, we would spend a lot of time trying to work out which other service had done it.
A foreign agency has access to S417 and possibly other parts of the department.
Conclusion/Possible Scenarios
The following are only my thoughts based on experience, I have not, at present, any factual information to back this up.
A foreign power has some hold over the Home Secretary, it could be blackmail, financial or his sympathies lie in that direction. Roger Peterson is the go between.
I suspect they want placemen installed at high level in the Home Office. Government ministers are just passing through, however as we all know high ranking staff are very difficult to dislodge, they have the ability to direct policy in a favourable way towards the country of their allegiance.
Moving Forward
This meeting is to be reported as a disciplinary event. The Major is given a warning and I am removed from any further work and investigated, appoint someone to investigate me, two reasons for this, it allows whoever is the leak to see that I am being treated as the fall guy and it will also allow you to make sure that it isn’t me who has been giving away information.
I am to continue to investigate Roger Peterson. The Home Secretary has said to stop searching for a bomber, he didn’t say to stop checking on one of our own.
Tell no one in S417 and keep no notes, I will travel to London once a week and more often if I think it warrants it. A meeting place, preferably away from this building will need to be found. I will need fresh authority to be armed and a phone number to have me released from police custody if I am arrested.
I need to have my user name and password removed so I can’t be seen to be accessing the servers. New login details will need to be given to me. Nobody must know that I am still working for the MOD.
If you think any of the above may be true, it needs to go higher, there should be a ‘Top Secret’ placed on anything written down.
With that, he put down his pen, he remembered the lager, it was no longer cold but it quenched his thirst. Downstairs, Sally had eaten and was watching TV, “I didn’t call you, I thought what you were doing might be important.” “I’ve rewritten it, all I need to do now is type it up and print it out.” “Do you want me to do it, I was good at typing up reports?” “Would you, my head is thumping. We’ll do it after I’ve eaten.” Dave fired up the laptop, “I shouldn’t be letting you do this, I would be arrested if anyone found out.” “I’m not going to say anything, it’s probably too complex for me to understand.” Secretly Sally was excited, she hoped it would give her an insight into what he was doing.
He passed her the handwritten document, “No title?” “No, just the facts.” Sally started, she was quick and accurate on the keyboard, her speed slowed down as she read from Dave’s sheet. Saying nothing, she carried on until the end. “Can you print out three copies then delete the document.” Dave picked up each one as it came out the printer, he put them into an A4 envelope which he then locked in his briefcase. “Is all that true?” “There are some facts and at the moment a lot of guesswork.” “Will it be dangerous, I don’t want you to get hurt?” “You know there is always an element of danger in everything we do. I try to lessen the risk and have the odds in my favour.”
Dave was tired, he wanted to go to bed, he had an early start in the morning, he laid out clothes for the next day, a pair of dark trousers, light blue shirt and a jacket. The briefcase was by the side of the bed.
© 10210ken 2024
