Part   Eighteen   "Under the Radar"

 
Thursday 8th December 2016
 

Tammy woke just after eight to the sound of gulls getting ready for the mating season. Although she'd chosen the place at random, her room was comfortable and the hotel was only a very short walk from Bournemouth sea front. She'd arrived at eight twenty the previous evening and had no problem checking in, using her Rebecca Simpson alias; she'd paid cash but would have to get some more notes out of an ATM soon, accepting the risk that would entail.

It was certainly a warmer morning than the one in Thurso a day earlier and her coat really wasn't needed. Tammy had to remain under the radar so she opted for a variation on the local dress code, leggings, a thin pullover and a hooded fleece jacket. Stylish it wasn't, but it would keep any random cold breezes at bay.

She lodged her suitcase and heavy winter coat in a locker at the station then look the short walk down to the sea front, it may have been December but the day was bright and still mild, she could feel the warmth of the sun on her face. A newsagent provided her with a selection of newspapers but, unsurprisingly the Scotsman was not available. She opted for the Times and the Guardian, working out that, between them, all the national news would be covered.

The seafront wasn't busy as she settled into a café for breakfast, having declined the hotel's offering. As Tammy saw it, the earlier she arrived in London, the greater the risk. As it was, she still didn't know who the bad actors were and most of her concerns had to be dissipated by a measure of trust, even if that trust couldn't be assured.

By ten she had finished breakfast, enjoyed two decent mugs of coffee and had skimmed both papers, ignoring the sports pages. She was keeping a particular eye out for any articles mentioning terrorism or security alerts.

Finally her train pulled out of Bournemouth around eleven, ideally she'd have stopped somewhere on route to change trains but somehow she had to get into Central London and this service was heading for Waterloo. Common sense prevailed, however, when the train approached Clapham Junction, she decided to hop off, dragging her suitcase behind her. There was a noticeable drop in temperature in South London so her winter coat went back on.

Her new destination was London Bridge Station. She recalled that extensive renovations were taking place and it almost certainly meant that the CCTV coverage wouldn't be as good as usual. This was also one of the least likely stations they could have expected her to use.

She ignored the main entrance, next to the bus station and, instead, exited onto Borough High Street, dodging two London Buses to get across to Borough Market on the far side. Despite it being South of the River Thames, Borough Market was still only a few minutes walk from the City of London, the financial centre of the capital. There had been a market on this site, on Borough High Street, for hundreds of years, pre-dating the pilgrim fathers' arrival in the future USA.

She walked into the Market Porter pub, ordered a ploughman's lunch and a large OJ, then took a seat in the snug at the back of the bottom bar. From here you could see who came in the nearest door, or if anyone was approaching from around the bar. The loo was also nearby, a young couple arrived and sat near her so Tammy asked they keep an eye on her bag, and her lunch should it arrive. She shed her coat before going into the loo, carrying her shoulder bag of course.

On her return the young couple had gone, as well as Tammy's coat. Thankfully her case was untouched, but she wasn't happy. Tammy racked her mind to recall what she had left in the coat's pockets, remembering a pair of gloves and a packet of tissues. Her food arrived before she could become more upset, and she felt she needed it.

Once she'd eaten, Tammy wanted to turn on her normal phone and check for messages, but this would reveal her location. Someone, on their way out of the pub, dropped the first edition of the London Evening Standard on a table nearby, Tammy scanned it.

Tammy stared at the article, the chances of that being a co-incidence were small to bloody zero. Another article on the same page referenced raids in Earls Court and the West End, although the Police hadn't publicly connected them. It was very clear, either there was a mole or the Security Service were after her - perhaps both were correct? She still had two hours to get to the meet-up but she couldn't sit in the pub for hours.

In the end Tammy talked the pub's landlord into taking her suitcase upstairs and she left a night's room deposit with him, with a promise she'd either be back for the bag or to stay in the associated guest house.

She walked North through the market and came out on Southwark Road, she was very near the Crucible Theatre and Southwark Cathedral and either place would do as a way of wasting some time. She regretted losing her winter coat as that really was needed, the best she could do was to rams her hands into the fleece's pockets, after pulling the hood over her head in a vain attempt to hide. She'd just made it to the Cathedral main entrance when she heard a voice behind her.

"Good afternoon Miss Smart, go right in and we'll talk inside."

She complied, although she had no idea if this was one of the good guys.

"Marcus?"

"Walk with me."

They mingled with the other visitors but the atmosphere was one of restraint so few words were spoken. Marcus directed Tammy out of the cathedral and onto London Bridge Road before heading down towards the Thames path.

"I think we can talk now, Marcus, what the hell is going on?"

"You've been compromised and they've been tracking you."

"Who?"

"Your lot, Special Branch, the Met, just about everyone!"

"Why?"

"Disinformation, you were fingered as the reason an operation went sour and it was suggested you are a mole. Up in the Highlands you were effectively shut down and that suited everyone but the moment you set foot in London they all got jumpy."

"But how did they know? I was careful!"

"Not careful enough, young lady. I'm sorry about your coat, by the way."

"Why?"

"There was a tracker in it, it was switched on this morning when someone discovered that you weren't on that train out of Inverness."

"Bugger!"

"I had a few friends relieve you of it, much simpler than I expected, and it's heading towards Wimbledon on a bus right now but there's no-one wearing it."

"I haven't used my phones."

"True, but your personal email account had been intercepted so they were aware of your diversionary arrangements. Unfortunately, all of Dave Brown's phones were under surveillance so the original meeting arrangements were known."

"Where is Dave?"

"Special Branch have him, no doubt trying to concoct charges."

"Okay, okay, but why are you helping me?"

"Simply put, we know what's really going on. Military intelligence is not the oxymoron that some make it out to be, plus we had help."

"From the States?"

"Yes."

They'd reached HMS Belfast. "How far as we going?"

"Not too much further, I guess you're not too warm?"

"No, do you think I could buy a new one?"

"If you're seen on any cameras around here then we're in trouble. Have you used any credit or debit cards?"

"No."

"Oyster card?"

"No."

"Good."

"How did you find me, by the way?"

"I was supplied the tracking data, fortunately we got to you first."

"I could have been grabbed whilst I had lunch, I was there for nearly an hour!"

"To the tracking team it looked like you walked through Borough Market only pausing at a stall. It was a straight line from London bridge Station and a known walking route."

"But will they go back to the pub when they find the coat?"

"Yes, they'll back-track."

"My case is there!"

"No it isn't, we know the landlord so by now it's been recovered."

They'd walked walked past City Hall which had enough cameras to worry Tammy.

"Unfortunately there's some maintenance going on this afternoon and all the CCTV will be down for half an hour, as of fifteen minutes ago."

There was a small area of parkland the far side of City Hall and right by the river path was a lawn. Tammy suddenly heard the sound of a helicopter approaching, it dropped onto the lawn in front of her.

"Go!"

A rear door was open and Tammy quickly took a seat, her back to the pilots. She strapped herself in before the nearest officer could assist, a headset was hanging behind her so she put it on. They lifted off almost immediately.

"Okay guys, where are we going?"

"Somewhere safe, you need to be kept out of the way for now."

Tammy had no idea which direction she was going, the sun had dropped below the horizon and she wasn't familiar with the terrain from the air. One thing was clear, however, they were flying low. Twenty minutes later, however, she knew exactly where she was.

Marcus helped her down. "I'm leaving you here, I think you know the way?"

"Thank you, but have you just delivered me into the hands of the conspiracists?"

"All is not as clear as you might imagine, Miss Smart."

"Just what I need, more riddles!"

"Bye for now."

She quickly moved out of the way as the rotors started to spin again, by the time she'd reached the rear door the chopper was out of sight. A familiar face opened the door for her.

"Welcome back to Abigail Adams House, Miss Smart, your baggage is due here shortly and you'll be in Room three. Dinner is at six thirty and your debrief is in the morning. Could you please take any weapons to the armoury, tea will be served in the conservatory shortly."

Weapons and refreshments in the same sentence, thought Tammy, this could only happen in the strange world she inhabited, in the UK at least.

"Am I a prisoner here?"

"Not at all, Miss Smart, you're a guest."

Tammy reached a secure door so fished in her bag for her security pass, she needed it now assuming it hadn't been blocked or cancelled. There was a beep and a green LED greeted her at the armoury's entrance, the Range light was out so she decided it was safe to enter. She immediately recognised the Range Officer, and he recognised her.

"Ah, Miss Smart, what do you have for me?"

"My Glock 19, Sir."

"I don't believe I've seen you with that one before, you'll have to enter it in the log. Do you have any spare ammunition?"

"One clip in my bag and another in my suitcase."

"Fine, I'll take the clip you have here. I still have your original Glock 26, by the way."

"I have one that I was given a year ago, when you wouldn't release mine."

"Who issued it?"

"Military, but I don't have it with me."

"I see, I'll release your weapon if you can show that you have returned the other Glock 26 to the issuing authority."

"I'll see to that, Sir, I take it that there's no restrictions on me?"

"None that I'm aware of, Miss Smart, but should I be aware?"

"No, Sir, none that you need to be aware of."

"Good, as I don't like second guessing and I will not issue weapons unless you are legally permitted and fully trained, understood?"

"Yes."

"You are also due to re-qualify in the next month so you could do that whilst you're here."

It wasn't a question, Tammy realised.

"I'm not certain how long I'm staying but I'm sure I can fit it in."

"I'm sure you can, don't forget you'll have to re-qualify with both weapons."

That was her invite to leave the range. A silver tea service was waiting for her in the conservatory, together with a wedge of walnut cake; Tammy suspected it was a Dundee Cake and thought she'd detected a little alcohol in it.

As she walked through the house she didn't see another person, none at all. In her room she found her case had been emptied into the wardrobe and the drawers, it was clear that the spare ammo had also been removed, and that her case had been searched.

Tammy had only packed for, at the most, three nights and hadn't packed a swimsuit but there was one in a drawer. She had a little time so jumped into the shower, using a shower cap, then dressed casually for dinner. She reasoned that if her debrief wasn't due to start until the following morning then it was unlikely that her inquisitors would be at dinner.

Of course, why would she need to be debriefed? What had she done? What the hell was going on?

As she left her room to head down to dinner another door opened.

"Suzie?"

---

London locations map: https://drive.google.com/open?id=1wXnQDgzIOLzXGRcQqOA0ITsCHT...

Borough Market (Ancient Market) - https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Borough_Market
Oyster Card (Travel Card) - https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Oyster_card