Dave and Sally walked to their hotel, his arm was round her, they were both happy and laughing. The sound of cicadas could be heard in the undergrowth. It was now over eighteen months since he had left the Army, he had been a sergeant within S417, a unit based in the MOD headquarters in Whitehall. It was a military intelligence section, they investigated anything the military police or the government passed to them. Dave had become jaded with the amount of work that was put on his desk, he had a knack of looking at problems from a different angle and finding a way forward, he was also a field operative. The combination made him one of the best investigators they had. Since leaving the Army, he now worked for them on a freelance basis, he and Sally were paid a retainer each month, the payment was shared between the MOD and MI5. He was used by them on operations or investigations where, if it went wrong, they could deny any connection to the work Dave and Sally were doing. Sally had been his landlady when he first moved to Loughborough, it wasn’t long before he was sharing her bed, at thirty two, she was five years younger than Dave. Her husband had been killed in a car crash many years ago. Before moving to Loughborough, she had been a researcher within the MOD, in the same building but at a different time. She was great at making sense of Dave’s findings, at first she had helped him put reports together, sifted through data looking for anything that would help his investigations. She always worried when he left home during a job, she remembered the time he had been setup, and almost killed. Sally had learnt how to shoot, she had been trained by MI5, she had also gone through the psychological assessment to see if she would be able to pull the trigger when necessary.
They had enjoyed a superb meal in a beachside restaurant, so far, they had eaten at a different place every night. Their days had been spent on the beach, or by the hotel pool. “The first week has gone in a flash, I hope the second week doesn’t go as quickly.” Sally stopped, she turned towards Dave and kissed him. They had booked a two week package holiday, they had flown out from Birmingham to Rhodes, although Dave’s size made him stand out, he felt he was just one person in a crowd. As they walked into reception, neither of them noticed the man sitting on a sofa, he was wearing a light suit, shirt, but no tie. He rose as he saw them come through the door. “Mr. Stretton, Miss Fellowes?” Dave stopped and looked at him, Sally clung on to Dave, “yes,” “good, we don’t have much time, there is a private jet on its way from Cyprus to pick you up.” Sally, in her usual straight to the point way asked, “what the fuck is going on, and who are you?” “I’m the British consul here in Rhodes, I have been sent to collect you, there is a car outside to take you directly to the airport. Apparently, London has been trying to contact you, when they couldn’t get through, they called me.” “Wait here, Sally and I will go up to our room, I will phone London and then come back down.” In the lift, Sally again asked what was going on, “I will find out in a few minutes.” He picked up his phone from the bedside table, there had been thirty missed calls, there were just as many messages left for him. He called the number back, “David Stretton,” “thank goodness, you are needed back here now.” “It was Dave’s turn to ask what was going on, “I cannot say anything over the phone, just take it that you are needed here now.” “We are on our holidays,” “you can have another one when this is over.” Dave wanted to know how serious this was, “do you think we would have spent the time trying to find you if it wasn’t a crisis.” “OK, we will pack and go with the consol downstairs, we will be on our way in fifteen minutes.” Sally had heard Dave’s side of the conversation, she already had the two suitcases on the bed. “Fucking great, we can’t even have a holiday without it being interrupted, isn’t there anyone else, why is it always you when there is a fucking mess to be sorted out?” She was bundling clothes into the suitcases, Dave was clearing the bathroom. A quick look under the beds to make sure nothing had been left, and they were gone. “Some bastard is going to suffer for this,” Sally was now angry, “why the hell couldn’t it wait until morning?” The cases were put in the boot, there was no conversation on the way, only the consul spoke, he was talking in Greek, first to the driver, and then, on the phone, to someone at the airport. The car parked outside the private terminal, Dave and Sally went through security and passport control, there was an RAF officer waiting for them, “this way please,” he took Sally’s case. She said the cases were to be put in the cabin, “I have to change and sort out the clothes.” Once airborne, she opened them up, took out all the clothes, they were spread over the other seats. She picked out what she wanted to wear, asked Dave what he needed, then carefully packed everything back in the suitcases. He was making coffee, he checked with the pilot and co-pilot if they wanted a drink, they both accepted his offer. Having made the drinks, he carried one back to Sally, she asked if there were any cameras in the cabin, “I don’t think so, why?” “I want to change, the toilet is too small.” She slipped off the dress she was wearing, put on a bra then pulled on a tee shirt and a pair of jeans, a jumper was laid over the back of a seat. Dave did the same, he put on jeans and a polo shirt. The two settled down for the rest of the flight, Sally slept, Dave sat thinking what must have happened to pull them off their holiday.
He felt a change, the plane was descending, Sally woke, her ears were popping, “where are we?” “Just coming in to land, I’ve no idea which airport though, it’s certainly London, there are too many lights for any other city.” They heard the wheels being lowered then there was the bump as it touched down. The ground crew had the door open as soon as the plane stopped. Dave put the cases near the door, they were taken by a pair of hands, it was dark outside, neither of them could see much. “I think we are at RAF Northolt, it’s the closest to central London.” Dave went down the few steps first, he turned to take Sally’s hand. A Range Rover was waiting for them, the rear doors were open, the luggage already in the boot. Dave knew better than to ask where they were going, it was just after 02:00, the streets were quiet, the car raced down the A40 and into London. Dave was trying to figure out where they were headed, it would be either the MI5 building or the MOD in Whitehall. It was neither, they were taken to the rear entrance to Downing Street, they had both been there before. He turned to Sally, “it must be bloody serious if we are being brought here.” Inside, passed the armed guards, there was a receptionist waiting with passes for them. “Our suitcases are in the back of the Range Rover we arrived in, can you ring Flemings Hotel, book us in for a couple of nights, then have the luggage taken there.” Dave expected to be taken down to the meeting rooms in the basement, instead, they were taken along a corridor which led into the rooms on the ground floor. The room was windowless, the decoration looked like it was from a bygone age. It was in sharp contrast to the desks, tables, computers and other electronic equipment. At the far end were two leather sofas and two matching chairs. Sitting waiting for them was Richard Carlton and Henry Wiggins, the Prime Minister and the Home Secretary, two other suited people were sitting at desks. “Good evening and thank you for coming,” “I don’t think we had much of a choice.” “No, sorry about that, but we have a problem.” The Prime Minister left it for the Home Secretary to continue, Henry Wiggins didn’t like Dave, they had met on several occasions, the Home Secretary had always come off worst. Dave raised a hand to stop any further talk, “Sally and I have been travelling for hours, we need some food, is there anyone about who can organise coffee and sandwiches, if not, can you send out for MacDonalds.” One of the suits was on the phone, five minutes later a trolley laden with food arrived. Dave took two plates and filled them, he handed one to Sally, he then asked who wanted coffee, there was only himself and Sally. “May I continue now,” it was said in a sarcastic voice, Dave nodded.
“Just before 20:00 this evening, we were informed that Jane Goodley had gone missing.” She was head of MI5, Dave and her had a good working relationship, she didn’t like a lot of his methods, but admitted he got results, he now spent several days a month, giving his knowledge to the graduate recruits. She also passed on cases she didn’t want her department involved in. “More information please,” “she had gone to the theatre with her partner Alison Brookes, just before the performance was about to start, she went to the toilet, she never returned. Miss Brookes raised the alarm.” “What have you done in the last six hours?” “She has been reported as a missing person. We are trying to keep this as low profile as possible. Her phone was tracked, it was switched off within five minutes.” “Have you received any ransom demands or had contact from anyone?” “No, we wonder if she has had a breakdown and wandered off.” “Don’t be so stupid, I know the woman, she is not the type. Someone has her.” The Prime Minister wanted to know what they should do next, “You’re the only one I could think of who would be able to sort this out without every department having to know.” Dave’s head was springing into action, “Do you want me to find her?” “Yes, do whatever it takes.” “OK, I need an office, somewhere there won’t be a lot of questions asked, where Sally and I can come and go freely. I want people who I can use to liaise with the police and anyone else I might need information from. All this has to happen now, time is critical.” “Use one of the offices in the basement, I will have staff for you in half an hour, Charles and Francis across the room will help, they will finish here and move downstairs to assist.” “I want someone from IT to set up computers in the room,” looking at the Home Secretary, “You will need to contact the news outlets, nothing about this is to appear on TV or print, use a ‘D’ notice or whatever it is now called if you have to. I want two Glock 17’s, two boxes of shells and two shoulder holsters.” Notes were being made, Sally watched, she knew what Dave was like, he would give out orders, he wasn’t bothered if he upset people, he wanted things to happen. “Right let’s get started, where is Alison?” No one had any idea, “find her and bring her here, I want to see her.” He wheeled out the trolley of food, “Someone lead the way, show us where we are going. Henry, I want access to the Met cameras for central London.”
There were six desks in the room, each one had a computer, shortly after they had arrived, a man from IT entered, “Do you have a large screen monitor, possibly forty inch or something similar?” “Yes, it’s on wheels, I can bring it down.” “Can it be slaved onto one of these PC’s?” “Yes, not a problem.” “Is it possible to have these PC’s put on a private network, so no one can access them?” “Yes,” “I like you, you give all the correct answers, we need it doing now.” Dave had poured more coffee and was eating sandwiches, Sally was firing up each of the PC’s and getting the desks ready for work. The Prime Minister was now in the room watching what was being done. He sat on the end of the desk Sally was working on, “how does he do it, it’s less than an hour since he found out she was missing, what goes on in his brain?” “It works in a different way, he will be several steps ahead of where we are now, he will keep going until he has a breakthrough.” “Sir, I will need another smaller and quieter room to speak to Alison, can I leave that to you to find? I don’t want to pile too much on to the Home Secretary, but I want the CCTV footage from the theatre tonight, from when they opened the doors, up until 21:00. I doubt if there will be anyone still there, but there must be details of a keyholder somewhere.” “I’ll put Francis and Charles on to it when they come down.” The IT man wheeled in a huge monitor on a stand. Within fifteen minutes, they were ready to start. Dave logged on to the MI5 network, he wanted to see what Jane had been doing over the last few weeks. His normal level of access didn’t let him look, opening up another window, he logged into his own cloud storage, downloaded a piece of software, it was used to access the MI5 servers giving him a view of everything. “Sally, sit here, once the software has let you in, find Jane’s emails, have a look at what she has been doing, if you think anything is out the ordinary, make a note then investigate. You’re looking for something that doesn’t look or feel right.” Charles and Francis were now in the room, “find the Home Secretary, he should have access for the CCTV and traffic cameras in central London, you want the cameras from around the theatre, find Jane Goodley entering with her partner, I hopefully will have a description of what she was wearing shortly.”
© 10210ken 2025
