Heir to a Title 34

Characters.
Ellie. (Eleanor) The prime Character.
Bill (William) her father, (obviously) Callie (Callista) Ellie’s only daughter. Initially Callum - a transgendered son.
Charlotte. (Nana) Ellie’s Paternal Grandmother
Sandie (Sandra) Ellie’s Older Aunt
Rosie (Rose) Ellie’s Younger Aunt
Henry Ellie’s boyfriend and husband. (Second son of the Duke of Denton)
Molly Duchess of Denton. Henry’s mother.
Bev (Beverly) Ellie’s aunt (Previously Uncle Bernard and brother to her dad.)
Jennifer. (Jennie) Beverly's older adopted daughter.
Beatrice (Bea) Beverly's younger adopted daughter.
Lucy, Henry’s oldest niece, Callum’s cousin.
Eleanor, Henry’s middle niece Callum’s cousin. Same name as Ellie.
Virginia Henry’s youngest niece Callum’s cousin
Julie Ellie’s sister-in-law.
Angela(Angie) Beverly’s wife (kidnapped by pirates and rescued.)
Megan Beverly’s only blood daughter by Angela.
Margaret Arnold.(Maggie) Callie's best female friend. (Eventually to become wife.)
Jane Arnold, Maggie's mother.
James Denton (The Ferrety Denton) Callie's ambitious, uncle.
Uncle Phillip Arnold American Relation (CIA)

“Damn it Phil!” 'Q' swore down the phone. 'Now we've lost one of our best informers! Your side could have done a bit more to accommodate her feelings about all this.'

'You don't understand what I'm up against here.” Phillip Arnold protested. “The firm don't take kindly to somebody who remains anonymous because she doesn't like America.”

“Who told you that?!” 'Q' almost screeched down the phone.

“She's made it obvious with some of her comments in the notes she sends you. Why cant she send them to us as well. She knows perfectly well that you forward them on to us word for word, warts and all.”

“But you were still getting the information, surely that was enough. Look at what she does, not what she says. Deeds count for more than words! Now nobody's getting any information and we're all swimming in a pond of shit again.”

Phil Arnold sighed wearily.

“Look 'Q' what you have to realise is that we share a table with some pretty crummy agencies up on the hill. Most notably the homeland security people. They seem to think that anybody who's not with us is agin' us. Think George Dub-yah and his band of yahoos. They don't seem to understand the concepts of neutrality or even that the US can be seen as something flawed and not to be wholly trusted; not to mention faulted. One or two even bitched about her transgenderism when I reluctantly described who I suspected.

One idiot even described it as un-American! He thought it was a security risk just like the old days with gays. I tell you 'Q' this particular guy is as thick as pig-shit but he's a political appointee from the red-neck ranks of the Senate. Sadly, the whole bloody table have to put up with him. Old Senator McCarthy's got nothing compared to this twat. It's got to the stage were the firm is reluctant to reveal all it knows to the president's committee and that's fucking with our effectiveness, not to mention efficiency.

The FBI have told us they find themselves in the same boat with this bloody fool. They were investigating some crimes in Georgia and Florida that they knew for certain were were racially based. Yet they still met with all sorts of obstruction from his state house and it-came-from-the-highest-state-legislature-level! They know this from their own sources which I'll not dwell upon here..

Honestly girl, when I step into that room and look around the table, he and a couple of others remind me of the Jurassic era.”

'Q' had to suppress a smile as she pictured the scene for she had occasionally been a guest at that 'table-on-the-hill' and she had now been invited again to explain why and how their anonymous source had dried up. Her explanations would give power to Phil's elbow and might even re-shape the presidential security committee. She chatted for another hour with her American counterpart as they discussed several options and a workable way forward.

~~ooo000ooo~~

Having ceased to provide information to GCHQ did not mean Callie had stopped monitoring the Saudi fortress. Her portal still remained open but she began to wonder for how long. If the Americans responded to her objections and acted more strongly against Saudi Arabia by providing further proof of Arabian complicity then they might inadvertently reveal that they had access to an inside line to the fortress.

Then the Saudis would tighten up their security and possibly find, then close her portal either by accident or design. For the young newly-wed, it was a fearful conundrum.
She had to keep that portal open to maintain her surveillance of 'Abdul' for she still felt her life would be threatened by him again. Her monitoring of his email accounts still demonstrated that 'Abdul' had not forgotten nor forgiven the six month sentence he had endured in Reading Jail. His various comments showed he was still bent on retribution.

What was worse was that she had nobody to confide in, nowhere to look for advice. The secrets of her access to the Saudi fortress had to remain hers and hers alone. She reflected on the old adage; a secret is not a secret once two people know about it.

A month later, after another terrorist attack in the People's republic of China, followed by ferocious blood-lettings by government reprisals, Callie's computers warned of another terrorist attack. This time it was against a Gay pride parade much closer to home in Manchester, England. Callie knew lots of her friends from all over the north of England would be attending.

She cursed as she studied the data, especially when she discovered some further information that made her blood boil. 'Abdul' her abuser had apparently gained employment within the Saudi intelligence organisation.

The information at first made her angry as she wondered how a convicted criminal could find themselves in such a sensitive position, then, on reflecting how nepotism and corruption were the very essence of Saudi government. She cursed the fact that 'Abdul' was after all, a royal prince, but worse than that was that he now had the power to organise an attack against her without implicating himself. Realising his personality flaws, she was fully cognoscente of what evil he could do and she started searching for further routes into Fortress Saudi while she considered what benefits she could gain from this development.

The man had already proven that he was impulsive and not very bright. The contents of his private emails already told Callie that for she had virtually unrestricted access to them thanks to his carelessness. . For him to have gained a post in the Saudi intelligence branch by dint of nepotism meant that he had a long tail, and it wasn't long before Callie identified the tail as Abdul's uncle, one of the Saudi Defence chiefs. She quietly congratulated herself as yet another of the labyrinthine, government, corruption trails emerged.

“Gotcha you bastard! Now how best to use the information?” She wondered, “And if her efforts somehow compromised that particular defence chief, then so much the better. The perpetual internecine warfare amongst the Saud royal family would quickly escalate into another fratricidal feud.

For the time being however, it was more important for her to protect her friends so she was forced to cancel her resolution about contacting GCHQ. A long letter containing the most detailed information duly appeared unexpectedly on 'Q's desk the following Monday. It was very lucky break for 'Q' was due before the US Senate security committee on the Tuesday and she had only stopped by to tie up a couple of loose ends before driving to Heathrow. for the evening flight to Washington.

She almost wet her knickers when she read the letter and immediately contacted her CIA colleague. He was ecstatic with the information she revealed for it helped his case enormously.

“Bring it to the committee and anything else you've got girl.”

“I'll run it by the PM first.”

“By all means.”

Permission was duly granted almost immediately and 'Q' joined the early evening flight feeling cock-a-hoop. Phillip Armstrong met her at Washington airport and whisked her to his office late that night. Together they ran the information through his computers and concluded that the information was indeed dynamite.

The next morning a slightly bleary eyed, jet-lagged 'Q' joined the Americans around the Jurassic table as it had come to be known – secretly - amongst CIA and FBI members.

Firstly she decided to hit the committee with their secret mole's reasons (for they all by now knew that 'Q' and Phil Arnold alone might know her identity) for resuming communications. 'Q' elaborated.

“Firstly gentlemen, she feared for the lives of her personal friends in the LGBT community and I might add that treatment of transgendered people in certain parts of your country -(Here she glanced pointedly at the prime dinosaur) – is an issue she feels strongly about.

I will confirm to you here and now that we are sure that my and Phillip's contact is indeed a transsexual. In the letter before you she clearly writes that she hopes her resumption of communications will perhaps lead some senators to soften their attitudes to the transgendered community. She hopes you can cut a deal on this issue but that is not the main argument. Just remember gentlemen some of you around this table will be, as she sees it, on probation. You can clearly see that she writes that lavatorial laws and other such nonsense should be re-considered.

Secondly gentlemen she is wounded that your government is prepared to deal so agreeably with a tyrannical government that to her and her sisters is very nadir of tolerance and reason. Unless she can see in the future, some stance by your people against the persecution of LGBT people in Saudi and other Islamic countries, then the information flow will close again.

Let's not forget that she has accomplished what we, you, the Russians and everybody else have failed to do, namely break their code based upon a dead language for which only she has a workable lexicon. The Saudi's bombed the ancient library in Sanaa and unwittingly destroyed the only known written version. Now only our secret contact has the only viable, workable dictionary and that is most probably encrypted on her off-line laptop.

There is no dead-wood version and we have no idea where she keeps her version or other sensitive material.

Thirdly, as she writes in the letter, she has used this opportunity to reinforce her feelings that the LGBT community counts, just like black lives count. She feels very guilty that she allowed a thousand Indians to die on the banks of the Ganges but it was to demonstrate the extent of her anger and frustration at the United States relationship with a Saudi government that she detests and fears. I might add here and now that her fears are justified.

She lives daily in fear of reprisals from her attacker when she was at college. He was recently promoted to a junior defence minister in Saudi Arabia and that information wounds her. A convicted sex abuser thrives to threaten her life again for he still enjoys considerable resources. She is offended and frightened by that.

She suggests, as she puts it in the letter, that she might prove to the Indian government that the attack was known about and organised from Saudi. Let's not forget that two senior figures in the Indian Parliament were killed. She will leave it to the Indian government to draw their own conclusions as to why the western intelligence services did not warn them in time .
Even though it had nothing to do with our activities, we all know that the Indians will probably get two and two to make five and blame us.”

'Q' put the paper down and removed her glasses as she rubbed her forehead.

“I think you'll agree gentlemen that the Indian government will probably draw the conclusions that we in Britain or you guys held back the information for fear of compromising British or American intelligence sources. We would have hell's delight trying to persuade them otherwise and as you know we are close to bringing India back into the west's fold. Militarily, India is a far more important ally to the west than Saudi could ever be and it's growing as a trading block faster that China. Furthermore it is a democracy and those are few on the ground in Asia.

In conclusion gentlemen, I wouldn't say she has the whip hand but she makes some very valid points. We in Britain are beginning to take seriously the export of radical fundamentalist Imams from Saudi to Europe.”

She put down her notes along with the original copy of the letter and sat back. It was in the hands of the Americans now though she couldn't help but notice one red-neck senator looking distinctly uncomfortable. All around the table committee members were reading and re-reading their photo-copies of the letter thoughtfully.

Finally a naval admiral took a deep breath and opened the discussion.

“It's going to involve a lot of discussions and politicking. There's a lot of vested interests on the hill.”

'Q' nodded silently before adding - “And a lot of innocent lives at stake, not to mention our soldiers and yours. Don't forget her warning that saved those US troops at the road block in Iraq. That was a tiny operation that would ordinarily have remained a tight secret within the Saudi defence ministry but her reach went deep enough to expose it. You may not like that she wishes not to be officially adopted by us or you, but she's still helping us, or more correctly helping innocent people from all over the world.

She doesn't give a toss for American or British interests around the world but she does care about innocent lives. I get the feeling she's remorseful about the Ganges affair.”

“So she bloody should be,” the admiral concurred.

“But we precipitated that in some part,' Phillip Arnold conceded, “if you remember that a few months ago there was a lot said about 'If yer not for us, yer agin us'. She was stung by that for while she may be with us on the terrorism thing, she's furiously Anti-American on some bible-belted transgender issues.

The homeland security faction all turned red with embarrassment as Phillip continued.

“She would seem to have a broader take on terrorism and we have to acknowledge that.”

“She has no right to judge us!” The red-neck Senator protested.

“It's only in her own mind Senator, who are we; the thought police?” 'Q' riposted.

“But it's the consequences of her judgement that irks me. Who the hell is she to act so high-handedly when we are elected representatives?”

“That's the reality Senator,” Phillip Arnold replied. “Real politick is what the Germans call it. We have to play the hand we've got.”

“And change our laws.” I'll be damned if I will!”

'Q' turned to Phillip and rolled her eyes. It seemed the senator was incapable of learning. She turned and smiled disingenuously.

“Are not those laws somewhat unconstitutional Senator, you know, life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. If an individual cannot make a call of nature in peace and safety then they wouldn't be very happy. If that denial is legislated for then it must be unconstitutional.”

“That's up to the supreme court.” The senator blustered.

'Q' shrugged slowly but significantly.

“Have we got that sort of time? Glaciers move faster than the supreme court.”

Then an army general demonstrated some real pragmatism.

“Ladies, gentlemen might I make a suggestion here?”

“Go ahead general.” The chairman allowed.

He nodded with satisfaction as he offered his idea.

“There's a case about all this transgender stuff coming before the supreme court in about a month. Do you think if we somehow enlightened the judges about this Saudi business, it might move them sufficiently to vote against the bill. D' you think it's worth a go?”

“That'd be risky General. They're pretty crafty, these judges and they'd smell a rat if we made it too obvious.” The Chairman opined.

A deep silence settled on the room until 'Q' spoke softly.

“One of those supreme justices, Ramoza, is travelling to a convention in Toronto next week. There will also be British judges present and one of them, Lady Dorrington, is a distant cousin of mine. She is Master of the Rolls and that puts her number two behind the Lord Chief Justice.

Indeed, because she is my cousin, I'm on very friendly terms with her and I was talking to her about security only two weeks ago. All the usual stuff, sentencing, secure prisons, admissible evidence, cross-border policing, hearings in Camera and so on.

There were a few international questions left unanswered and some of them might be progressed enough at the convention to make it worth my while attending. Canada and the UK share a common law heritage with the US so there'll be ample grounds to ask a few questions and get myself noticed.

Justice Dorrington is very active in rendition law and it's relationship with terrorism. She also sat on the committee that dealt with transgender rights in the UK.

I'm sure Phillip and I can ask enough awkward questions to get ourselves noticed. My cousin, being a female, will be pleased to see me there and I am sure we can inveigle an invitation to whichever table she sits on. At least for one night and I'm sure that will be all it takes. Phillip's got a law background so we'd make an admirable team. A few choice titbits is bound to generate interest amongst them. Then hopefully, he and I can gently guide the discussions around to our mole and her hopes.”

A ripple of interest went around the table as serious members mulled the idea over in their minds. Then the pragmatic general spoke again.

“Or you could mention the lavatorial business and transgender people. That's a pretty hot topic at the moment.”

Phillip and 'Q' nodded simultaneously as Phillip added.

“That as well general.”

The discussion occupied the rest of the morning and several conclusions were reached. Some concerning just how much material could be released to the judges.

After lunch, Phillip and 'Q' discussed strategies before 'Q' returned to the UK.

A day after her return to Manchester, the security forces intervened in the Manchester plot. Once again they found overwhelming evidence of Saudi involvement through a mosque in Birmingham that was funded and run by a Saudi educated Whahabist Imam. They even found traces of the high grade military explosives that was identical to the Ganges bomb.

The truck destined to explode at the parade was intercepted as it arrived at a depot in Manchester on the Friday preceding the Saturday parade. All importantly, five minutes before the truck was intercepted, Callie's information had identified and located the key trigger-man tasked with detonating the bomb electronically with her mobile phone.

This was the essential element to avoid a premature 'booby-trap' detonation to destroy any evidence and also preserving all forensic evidence to present to the Saudis. When found and recovered, the explosives even had the batch number on a label identifying the manufacturers of the explosives and the Saudi government purchasers.

The old coppering expression 'Bang to rights' drilled through 'Q's head as she savoured the success. When the British and American authorities confronted the Saudi Defence ministry, it forced them to investigate any rogue elements within their security forces.

Naturally, thanks to some very devious but skilful electronic sleight of hand by Callie, a false trail was laid to 'Abdul's door. The Saudi princeling found himself evicted from the defence ministry and isolated from the levers of Saudi power. Callie had at least castrated her enemy.

“One tiny step for world security, one huge step for me,” Callie told herself as she switched off her computer after learning of 'Abdul's' dismissal. “Ubi deinde?” she asked herself.

~~ooo000ooo~~

Callie did not have long to wait. She had already prepared for 'Abdul's' eventual removal and it had taken little effort to find another sloppy operative who was careless with passwords and irregular use of the fortresses computers. Naturally it was another minor royal who gained Abdul's old job via the inevitable nepotism and corruption devices that were embedded deep into Saudi society. He proved to be every bit as incompetent and it took but a couple of hours for Callie to secure another portal using totally unrelated servers, emails and IP addresses. Additionally, she still had access to Abdul's private computers so her safety net was still holding.

Within days of having been sacked, Callie's computers picked up his booking to Germany from Riyadh with an onward flight from Frankfurt to another airport in Europe..

“Had he wised up?” She asked herself for she had not set up tracking programmes from other airports into the UK. She decided she had to move fast or lose track of Abdul in Europe.

During the interim weeks, Callie had detected two more planned attacks. They were minor small-time affairs but nevertheless they were proof to 'Q' that Callie was at least on board if not actually signed up. 'Q' was pleased with her returning protege.

Because she had resumed handing vital terrorist information to GCHQ she was pleased to learn that 'Q' was prepared to give her back her old University privileges. This meant she could monitor arrivals at UK airports, systems such as motorway networks and a whole host of other country-wide surveillance A surge of relief swept through her breast when her first passenger check list came through. The list was huge and she felt a wave of relief that she had restricted GCHQ computer access to help her. 'Abdul' was not on the first list but at least the system worked. She encrypted her thanks to 'Q' and slept more soundly that night.

The following morning she was awakened by Maggie heaving violently in the bathroom.

“What's wrong darling, shall I get you some aspirin or something?”

“No, no babe's. I'm, I'm alrigh- mmmph, wwmmph, eeough!”

It suddenly dawned on Callie, Maggie was suffering from morning sickness. For a moment she panicked then got excited then asked Maggie the stupidest question possible.

“Shall I get you a glass of water darling?”

“No stupid. I'm already in the bloody bathroom, there's water coming out of every bloody tap. Get me some whisky!”

“Whisky!!” Callie squeaked with alarm. “But you don't drink!”

“I do now! Whisky, quickly! Before I mmmph, mmmph, wooomph eeeough!”

Callie grabbed her nightie and dashed down to the library; the nearest source of whisky, and poured a small glass of neat whisky. When she returned to the bedroom she found Maggie lying on the bed with a towel by her mouth. She sat gently on the bed beside her beloved partner and asked nervously.

“Is it safe for you to drink this, what with being pregnant. I presume you are pregnant aren't you?”

“Of course I'm bloody pregnant! Give it here!”

Callie's hand shook with nervous excitement as she proffered the glass to her wife. Maggie took the glass and knocked back half of the spirit. Callie frowned.

“Firstly, d' you think that's good for the baby? Secondly, why haven't you told me before now?”

Maggie snapped back.

“Firstly I know it's not good for me or our baby, but it's sure settled my stomach. Secondly, I was going to tell you this morning but this morning sickness has either come early or I'm a month out with my dates.”

Callie bent over her and gave her a gentle hug accompanied by an affectionate kiss.

“That's fantastic news, but the alcohol.?”

“You know perfectly well I normally eschew alcohol. This must be one of those crazy pregnancy things.”

“So what brought this on?”

Maggie rolled her eyes impatiently for she had no idea either.

“I don't bloody know! Pregnancy I suppose, dhuuuh!”

“But alcohol, that's one of the worst things for a foetus. There's all sorts of comp-”

“Look! It's settled my stomach, I'm not puking any more. Let's be thankful for small mercies.”

“Why couldn't it be something innocuous like coal or vinegar or turnips or something?”

“I don't know!” Maggie snapped irritably. “Get me a clean pair of knickers from my drawer please.”

Callie duly obliged then took a clean pair for herself from her own drawer. Eventually they got dressed and prepared to spread the news of the pregnancy, a task that occupied the whole morning.

It was noon before Callie got a chance to check her computers and see the alert flashing across the screen. Abdul had arrived at Aberdeen airport of all places and via Copenhagen. It was obvious he was trying to lay some sort of false trail. The irony was that his choosing to use a regional Scottish airport had exposed him to a more intensive scrutiny than a normal EU citizen as he had been one of only three non-European travellers on the flight. Callie's carefully constructed check-list had picked him up early and her previous knowledge of his false-passport arrangement when working for Saudi intelligence had pre-empted his endeavours to enter the UK secretly.

“Got you, you bastard!” She silently congratulated herself but her victory was short lived.

Her efforts to determine his next move failed. He had not hired a car or booked a hotel room so it was obvious 'Abdul' was getting help of some kind.

'Probably from the Saudi embassy,' she told herself, 'after all, he is a royal prince.'

She composed several secure search strategies then left her system in a secure mode while she returned to resume celebrations around Maggie's pregnancy. There was little she could do until he resurfaced again.

To her amazement, her computers turned up the number-plate of a Saudi embassy car that had gone north on the M74 and then south again at times that exactly complimented 'Abdul's' arrival. It was picked up again by surveillance cameras on the M1 and then in Leeds and Bradford.

'Your not wasting much time are you?' Callie frowned as the last recorded sighting was made going out of Bradford directly towards the village of Denton.

Having ascertained the make and number of the car Callie hacked into Yorkshire police computers and highlighted the car for extra surveillance with instructions to contact GCHQ if the vehicle was behaving suspiciously. The fact that the car carried Saudi number-plates alerted every traffic cop in South Yorkshire. It was stopped and checked several times in the twenty or so miles between Denton and Bradford so 'Abdul' was left in no doubt that he was being watched. Especially as his sexual assault and prison record were attached to the alert. Having realised that his attempt as secrecy had failed, 'Abdul' booked into a hotel near Harrogate to try and determine an alternative plan.

'Abdul' soon learned that hiring a car either by himself or through friends at the embassy proved pointless. He could only do it by credit card and Callie's computers had that angle covered. After several excursions and a couple of police road checks, he concluded the only way to approach Denton hall was on foot across country.

During this interim, Callie had organised surveillance cameras set up at critical locations around Denton Hall and the most likely approach routes across the surrounding estate. Because Denton Moor was an SSI., (Sight of special Scientific Interest) she advised the local national park that the cameras were part of her ongoing research into fauna, particularly the pine-martens. This ensured that the park rangers would occasionally drop by just to check the cameras for interference in addition to Callie's regular rounds by horse on her estate. The happy coincidence was that at two particular locations, the Cameras confirmed that the martens were still present and indeed reproducing.

Finally, Callie had employed her own computer skills to compile a programme that identified bipedal images whilst rejecting obvious quadrupedal images and thus only raised an alert if the image seemed human or possibly human. Because the area on all sides around Denton Hall was open lawns, there were no hiding places for fifty metres immediately next to the house. Nothing obstructed the cameras.

For Callie it now became a waiting game.