It was just after one in the afternoon when we arrived at the house in Wiltshire. We’d taken a pretty roundabout route just in case we were being followed but a diversion through some very narrow lanes in South Oxfordshire and West Berkshire had made it next to impossible for any vehicle to follow us without us seeing them.

Jemma got out at the top of the drive to do a quick reconnoitre of the property and the surrounding land. She checked her Glock and then smiled at me as she disappeared into the undergrowth.

I moved over to the driver’s seat and waited for her to return. I had my Glock in my hand but well out of sight.

She returned almost twenty minutes later and got into the van.
“All clear. The Crime Scene tapes have not been tampered with so no one is in the house.”

We drove down the drive and after unloading our gear, I parked the van in the garage with it facing outwards and with the keys in the ignition just in case we needed to make a quick getaway.

I left the garage and closed the doors behind me. The garage that had held over a million pounds worth of cars just over a year ago now was home to just a used and decided tatty looking white van. It might look tatty but it was mechanically perfect. The highly tuned engine and suspension would allow the van to travel at double the national speed limit if needed. I’d been assured by our technical people that it could go from zero to sixty mph in under five seconds if needed. I hoped that we would not need that sort of performance today.

Jemma had removed all the crime scene tapes and gone inside the house to begin seting up our gear while I did a check of the perimeter. As I neared the far rear of the property my phone vibrated. A text had arrived.

“That is a really fetching yellow jacket you are wearing. It is stag hunting season yet?”

It was from Jock. I smiled as I put the phone back into my pocket. I gave him a thumbs up before heading back to the house. I was sure that he was watching my every movement.

As I approached the house, I removed the yellow jacket that I was wearing. It was not needed any longer. I did wonder how he’d got in place but that was a question for a later time.

“Jock is in place as planned,” I said to Jemma who had finished unpacking our gear.

“Eh? I looked for him but there was no trace?”

“That’s Jock down to a ‘T’. He probably saw us arrive and you start off on your recce. If I was him, I’d have retreated until you’d gone before getting back into position. Remember day three of our little jaunt in Wales?”

Jemma just smiled back at me as she put on her body armour and weapons belt.

“Any word from George?”
‘George’ was our general term for people and places outwith of our current location. It meant that if we were overheard, the eavesdroppers would assume that we were talking about a specific person. This was another of the little quirks that we’d put into our behaviours while on operations.

“Not as yet. He isn’t due to call yet.”
Again, my answer was non-specific.

“Right, we sit and wait?”

“Not quite. I still need to go dig up the lawn. We have to make it look as if we are searching for the missing booty.”

Jemma nodded. Like me, in times like this, she was a person of few words. I was the same when I was in what we jokingly called ‘Mission Mode’.

I picked up the foldable spade from the holdall that had contained our weapons and went out into the front garden. It didn’t take me long to dig half a dozen small holes in the grass lawn. My final job was to setup a small infrared trap at the entrance of the drive. That would give us a few seconds warning when our visitors arrived.

When I returned to the house Jemma was on the phone.

“Yes, ok got that. Thanks. Bye.”

She ended the call.
“That was George. Their watchers near Slough have reported two SUV’s using stolen number plates are moving fairly rapidly west along the M4. One of George’s friends tailed them at a distance to junction thirteen where they turned off as ordered. The SUV’s carried on westwards. George estimates that there are nine or ten occupants in total but could be more.”

George or more accurately a Terrorist Watch Group within Special Branch had come up trumps for us. I made a note to thank Sam for getting their help at very short notice.

I looked at my watch and did a quick estimate.

“That means we have between twenty-five and thirty-five minutes to wait. This depends on the traffic between Junction Fifteen of the Motorway and here or a bit longer if they turn off at Fourteen,” I replied.

I texted the update on the targets to Jock. He replied with a simple ‘GAT’. That meant, ‘Gotcha And Thanks’. He’d soon switch his phone off after that and make sure that it wasn’t trackable. Jock was that sort of person. By choice, he didn’t have any internet at his home in Glasgow. Like us, he had zero social media presence. That had helped us gel as a team during our little sojourn in Wales.

Jemma smiled at me before picking up her Sig-Sauer, a Glock-19 and a semi-automatic 9mm rifle with a sniper-scope, tripod mount and a silencer attached. I could tell that she had several spare magazines inside her flack-jacket. Jemma was never one to go lightly armed. Her reasoning for always using two different types of hand-gun was that if one jammed then it was highly unlikely that the second would do the same. I’d never had a Glock or a Sig jam but she would not be moved on that particular habit. At times like this being a creature of habit is a big plus. We had probably lasted as long as we had by knowing instinctively what the other one would be doing at any moment of an operation. For an instant I felt a pang of regret that this time would be our last not matter how it turned out.

“I’ll get into position then,” she said bringing me back to reality.

She came up to me and gave me a long kiss.

“Hang on in there ok. No getting smart eh?” said Jemma when we broke apart.

“Would I do that?” I replied grinning.

She gave me another peck on the cheek and whispered.
“Just be careful. For me!”

Then she was gone. The position we’d planned for her was outside the house at the front. There was an old shed in a bad state of repair about fifty metres away from the house. Our plan was that Jemma would be in a sniper’s prone position just to one side of the shed. The virtual ruin would hide her from any vehicles that came up the drive. Her first targets were the tyres of the SUV's. Then she’d switch to disabling any ‘heavies’ that were obviously carrying weapons before they got into the house.

I got myself ready for the engagement and left the house at few minutes before the SUV’s were due to arrive.

I’d just arrived at my position when my phone vibrated. There were two texts waiting for me.

The first was from Sam. The acting head of MI5 wasn’t going to attend the COBRA meeting. He’d sent his apologies stating a toothache for his absence. The second was a follow up from Sam stating that the tail that Special Branch had on him was still in place and that he was in a car apparently heading for his Dentists offices in Wimbledon.

That in itself was not an issue but he was in my opinion acting suspiciously. In a time of national emergency surely, a dentist could be found to attend him while he was at No 10.

I put those thoughts to one side and settled myself into place and checked my watch. I estimated that we had only a few minutes to wait before our guests were due to arrive.

---

Waiting for an operation is always a problem. In my opinion, any agent who says otherwise is a fool or won’t survive in this game for very long. We'd had some excellent training on this from a former SAS Sergeant who'd spent more than a month in a hideout in Afghanistan waiting for a Taliban Convoy to travel down a nearby road. He'd remotely detonated some mines he'd laid over a month before and wiped out the convoy.

I used the time to clear my mind of other thoughts. I knew that Jemma would be doing the same. What we did was almost meditation but it worked and allowed us to concentrate on the matter at hand without worrying about other things.

By the time I was ready, it was also time for them to arrive. It was quiet apart from the sound a train going along the nearby railway line. That was to be expected given the location. Then it was just a few Jackdaws chattering in the nearby trees.

I heard at least four ‘pops’ from some distance away. These were to my trained ears, from a silenced semi-automatic rifle. The rapidity of them also told me that they came from a single weapon. My hopes went up and then came crashing down. It might not have been Jock letting off those shots.

It was still quiet at the front of the house.

My phone vibrated. I took a brief look at it.

The text was from Jock. I smiled when I read it. He’d disabled four people who emerged from an SUV close to where he was positioned. He also said that they were heavily armed.

I guessed that they hadn’t expected anyone to be guarding the rear of the house. One up for the good guys.

I let out a sigh. So far so good. I was very pleased that one of the two vehicles and its occupants, was out of action before events had even properly started. That evened the odds considerably.

The alarm in my pocket went off. Someone or something was coming up the main drive. Jemma would know that as well as she had an identical alarm in her pocket.

A few seconds later, the other SUV arrived in a cloud of dust and gravel as it rapidly came to a halt in front of the house.

As the dust settled, I saw that five heavily armed men had already emerged from the car. They spread out keeping low as they approached the house.

These were obviously well trained and from the way that they moved, probably ex-military. Each of them had a machine gun and a sidearm and probably a knife or two secreted about their body. They were also all wearing body armour. It was clearly the sort that special forces use. They clearly meant business.

They’d gone only a few yards when both of the tyres of the SUV on the side where Jemma was positioned started to deflate. That vehicle was not going anywhere for a while.

One of the men noticed this and alerted the others. They all turned in the general direction of Jemma.

As they now had their backs to me, I let off four shots in rapid succession. Two of the men fell over. I’d effectively kneecapped them from behind. I’d targeted both knees just to be sure. They cried out as they fell over. Like the SUV, they would not be going very far or very fast anytime soon.

It was clear that these people were not working as a team. That evened the odds even more.

Two more shots aimed at their lower body made sure that they would not be moving very far at all. If they failed to get the message then the next shot would certainly be fatal.

Jemma took out two of the others in the same way.

That left one target that was fully mobile.

To my dismay, before he could be disabled, he lobbed what looked like a grenade in Jemma’s direction before I could take him out. It exploded on impact with the roof of the shed.

For a split second, I wanted to go to Jemma’s aid. Then my training took over as I realised that if Jemma had been positioned where she’d said that she would be then she’d pretty well be beyond my or anyone else’s help.

I turned my attention back to the man who’d lobbed the grenade.

I didn’t want to disable this one because of Jemma, so I aimed a lot higher. He took two rounds in the chest. They knocked him flat onto the ground but it didn’t stop him. He was still able to move.

I aimed again. This time at his head and squeezed off another round. This time he collapsed onto the floor and didn’t move. A head shot is like that.

Now that he was silent, I looked over at where Jemma was supposed to be. The shed was in a thousand bits. I could not see Jemma due to the debris.

Then my brain clicked back into action and I looked back at the car. I needed to check it over before even thinking about Jemma.

I got up from the where I'd been lying prone and cautiously approached the SUV.

Moving slowly and as quietly as I could, I moved around so that I could see inside. Luckily one of the rear doors was open and I could see that there was no one in the back. I needed to check the front but the side windows of the car were heavily tinted. Definitely illegal but with this sort of occupants, it would have to be a brave policeman to challenge them.

I slowly moved towards the left rear of the vehicle with my Glock at the ready. Hand guns are my weapon of choice for this part of the operation.

I saw the silhouette of someone moving in the front passenger seat.

“You in the front seat! Come out with your hand up!”

They didn’t move.

I switched to Spanish
"Usted en el asiento delantero! Salir con la mano hacia arriba!”

They still didn’t move.

“Move yourself or I open fire! I don’t care who you are, I will fire!”

To make them think long and hard about not complying, I let off a round. I’d aimed it at the ground close to the vehicle.

The occupant called out.
“You English don’t shoot unarmed people!”

“I have the authority right from the top to shoot on sight. Your comrades have given me plenty of reason to shoot you right now. You are all that is left uninjured. At least one of them is dead. You will be too if you don’t comply with my commands.”

“Now what is it to be eh?”

I looked over at two of the wounded. One was trying to crawl away. Both of his legs were useless so I let him go as he would not get very far. However, another one was trying to reach for a gun. I let off another round and he dropped back to the ground. He’d taken a shot to the head. He would not be bothering us again.

I looked back into the car.
“That’s two of your men down for good and everyone in the other vehicle has been disabled so it is time to give up!”

“I’m coming. Don’t shoot.”

“Open the door slowly and step out with your hands so that I can see them.”

To reinforce my order, I let off another single round into the ground close to the car.

The door swung open and Daniel Esteban slowly emerged. I tried hard but failed to stop a smile from appearing on my face for a second or so.

“Down in the floor… Slowly!” I commanded.

He sank down onto his knees. The look on his face told me that he was not a happy camper. Then he looked up and saw me. He said a lot of very bad curses in Spanish.

“You should be dead. I fired the missile myself. I saw your home explode!”

“But we aren’t,” I replied hoping that Jemma had somehow survived the grenade.

“How does it feel to be the last man standing? No one will be coming to rescue now.”

His shoulders sagged.

“You should be dead!” he repeated.

“Yeah but I’m not and nor is my partner.”

I hoped that I was right in that statement.

“Your partner is finished. That grenade took her out!” he said quite triumphantly.

“Really!” came a familiar voice from the other side of the car. It was Jemma.

I felt really relieved. She didn’t look injured at all.

Our prisoner looked aghast.

“I will get you two if it is the last thing I do!” he muttered.

“You won’t have a chance when we send you to South Georgia!” countered Jemma.

Esteban laughed.
“Do you seriously think that we don’t know exactly where that is? A team of mine will be dealing with it shortly.”

That worried me immensely. I wondered if he was bragging or if he was telling the truth. Either way, I needed to escalate this ASAP.

“Cuff him please?” I asked Jemma.

“It will be my pleasure,” replied my partner as she pulled out several plastic cable ties.

With our prisoner’s hands and legs secured and thoroughly searched, I pulled out my phone and called a London Number. I added my security code to the number as it started ringing.

“Code Black, COBRA Interrupt,” I said to the operator when it was answered. They were expecting a call from us.

This was a signal for my call to be put through to Downing Street.

After what seemed an eternity, the call was answered by a familiar voice.
“Hello Sam. We’ve got him. He’s uninjured,” I added for good measure.

“Yes, Daniel Esteban. Up to eight hostiles need medical attention. At least two are fatal. Several of the others will have difficulty walking again if they ever recover.”

I listened to Sam relaying what I’d said to the rest of the people in the room.

“Sorry boss, there is something else.”

“Yes, it is important, very important.”

“I don’t know if he was bragging but Esteban says he knows where South Georgia is and that his people will be as he put it, ‘dealing with it shortly’.”

“Yes sir, that’s exactly what he said.”

“Thanks sir. Understood.”

I ended the call and gave a thumbs up to Jemma.

We’d collected the wounded men and cuffed them by the time three Special Branch cars arrived and took over the situation.

“There are at least four more about 100 meters to the rear of the house. One of our people is there. He’s a fairly trigger-happy former special forces RSM, so extreme caution is recommended,” I said to the leader of the SB team.

“Understood,” he replied as he dispatched three of his team to retrieve them from Jock.

I took Jemma aside for a word.

“I thought that you were done for with that grenade?”

She grinned back at me.

“When I got into position, I didn’t think that it would give me a wide enough zone of fire so I moved about thirty metres away.”

“There isn’t much left to that shed now!” I remarked.

“Yeah. I got lucky.”

We were shooed out of the way by Special Branch so we wandered over to the ruins of the shed. We both saw the wreckage and I thanked our maker that Jemma had decided to move position. There really was not much left of the building.

“What’s that?” remarked Jemma as she pointed at something in the middle of the wreckage.

“I don’t know?”

We both moved forward and pulled a few bits of the wreckage away.

Neither of us said anything when we saw what was there.

“Was this place searched when we arrested Farthing?” I asked.

“It must have been,” replied Jemma.

I noticed some tattered remnants of a carpet and some linoleum flooring.
“Perhaps that was covering the floor when it was searched?”

Jemma grunted. She was obviously deep in thought.

“Let’s walk away and get this all wrapped up. I think whatever is beneath that trap-door needs investigating but not with SB around. If it is what I think it is then this then it might just contain all the items that were not accounted for in Farthing’s records?”

Jemma as usual made perfect sense.
“We’ve got public enemy No 1 and may have found all that missing millions. Good days work I’d say,” said Jemma.

I was not going to argue with that.
With a smile on our faces, we went back into the house to retrieve the rest of our gear.

When we emerged, we found Jock telling the Special Branch Detective Inspector in a loud but firm voice that he was working for us and that he wasn’t a terrorist. He was accompanied by a Soldier in full camouflage.

“I’ve seen more terrorists than you have had hot dinners laddie!” he said in his finest ‘East End of Glasgow’ accent. That really only came through when he was getting angry.

The Soldier said,
“I can vouch for this man. I’m Captain Brooks and he trained me and many like me when he was in the Army.”

“Oh Yeah? What regiment are you in Captain?” demanded the DI.

“I’m not at liberty to say. All I can say is that I am here on the direct order of the Prime Minister as are these three.”

“Detective Inspector, what Jock is saying is perfectly true. He was covering our rear. He works for us.”

“And who exactly is ‘us’?”

“That Detective Inspector is, as they say in the movies, beyond your pay grade.”

“Pull the other one! Do you work for MI5?”

“No, we don’t and… Well, let me make a phone call and we can resolve this matter quite easily.”

He was obviously from a bit of Special Branch that had never taken part in one of our operations before. My guess that he was based in either Bristol or Southampton.

Thankfully, he let me make a call. After a bit of explanation, the call was transferred, I handed the phone to him.

“DI Johnstone here. To whom am I speaking?”

“Sir! Sorry Sir.”
He looked at me with daggers for his eyes.”

“Yes Sir. I understand. Every Assistance. Message Understood.”

He handed back me the phone.

“Sir?”

“Yes understood. Can you put Sam on please?”

“Hi Sam. We are fine. Situation Thirty.”
I used our code for ‘we made a discovery but don’t want to talk about it in clear’.

“Understood. Bye.”

I looked at the DI.
“Apparently that was the Home Secretary?”

“It was him. I met him and the PM earlier today. He is in a COBRA meeting with the PM right now. That is how high up this goes.”

He replied with a slight nod of the head.

“Look Detective Inspector. This is your crime scene. We won’t interfere. Some of my colleagues will be arriving by Helicopter within the hour. They will take Mr Esteban off your hands. He will not be your concern any longer.”

“What will happen to him?”

I smiled.
“What do you expect? He is the brains behind the recent attacks in London. He will be dealt with. He was the one that fired that RPG on the Block of Flats. He won’t be going anywhere but a dark deep dungeon for the rest of his life. Any more than that I can’t say.”

“I know, above my pay grade.”

I managed a small smile.

“And mine for that matter so don’t worry about it.”

Ok, so I was lying through my back teeth but I needed him on our side.

Jemma was talking to Jock and the Captain when I joined them.

“Everything ok with Special Branch?”

“Yes. Bleeding Idiots. More concerned with me than with four heavies armed with Mak-10 machine guns, sawn off shotguns and snub nosed .38’s. Talk about getting priorities mixed up.”

I laughed.

“That’s Special Branch in a nutshell I’m afraid. We have all sorts of very uncomplimentary names for them in the department.”

“What’s next?” asked Jock changing the subject.

I could tell that he wanted to be away from here ASAP. We wanted to do the same but knew that we had to stick around until we were given the all clear.

“Our boss is on his way from London to take the prisoner away. The others will be taken to a very secure military site for medical treatment and interview.”

“So, we are done here?”

I smiled. I could tell that Jock really, really wanted to be off back to Scotland.

“Sorry Jock, but once we’ve handed everything over and been debriefed then we can disappear into the night. Until then we have to hang around.”

“Captain, I can guess where you are from so I won’t ask. My guess is that you were a backstop in case we messed up?”

“Yes Miss. I saw what you two and Jock did and…”
He smiled.
“I can say that you didn’t need our help. My men were very impressed indeed.”

“Thanks Captain. It is nice to know that basically, ‘we did good’.”

We all laughed.

I turned to Jock.

“Sorry Jock, you can’t disappear and chew over the fat with the Captain. Another time maybe.”

He nodded his understanding but the sagging of his shoulders told another story.

“In that case, I’ll take my leave and return to my men. My job here is done,” said the Captain.

He started to move but turned back again and said,
“I am very glad that you two are on our side. You are very, very professional. What I and my men saw here today will stay with us for a long time. I'm sure that one or two of them learned a lot from today. Thank you.”

He saluted us and then disappeared into the undergrowth.

I felt humbled by his words. I looked over at Jemma who appeared to be reacting in much the same way.

“Can I have a quiet word in your ears?” asked Jock.

“Sure,” I replied.

The three of us moved about twenty metres away from the house. We were in full view of the SB people and they were not as heavily armed as we were so they didn’t get in our way but it was obvious from their glances at us that they didn’t fully trust us. That wasn’t unusual for that bunch of ‘Silly Bozos’.

“What’s on your mind Jock?” asked Jemma.

“Are you two coming back north when this is all over?”

I chuckled and looked at Jemma. She was also smiling.

“Yes, we are. We don’t have anything holding us here after the other night.”

“How would you feel if I became your neighbour? Not right next door but close enough but not that close to get under your feet.”

“Eh?” exclaimed Jemma.

“There is a cottage in Kentra for Sale. I saw in advertised in last week’s West Highland Free Press.”

Kentra, was a small hamlet of three or four houses about a mile as the crow flies from our little hideaway.

“Jock, we’d love to have you as a neighbour,” said Jemma with a smile on her face.

“Could this be related to a certain person from the Post Office?” I asked also smiling.

Jock looked down at the ground.

“You got me. Yes, it is,” he replied obviously embarrassed which for him was a rarity.

Jemma took hold of his hand and squeezed it.

“I know she likes you. She told me so a few weeks ago and wondered why you had not been around for a while.”

Jock was pretty red in the face by now.

“No need to feel embarrassed Jock. She’s a fine woman, and she needs a good man in her life,” I said.

“If I didn’t have this one by my side, you might have had some competition…”

Jemma hit me on the arm but grinned.

Jock sighed.

“I know I’ve said it before about you two, but they sure broke the mould when they put you two together.”

At the same time, Jemma and I leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek.
“Now stop that!” said Jock as he went rather red in the face.

We all laughed.

---

Sam arrived by RAF Helicopter less than fifty minutes later. Several people we knew from the department were with him. They took control of Esteban while Sam headed in our direction.

“Sam, this is Jock. He’s our number three on this mission.”

Sam shook Jock’s hand.

“I’ve heard a lot about you from the episode in Wales. Pleased to meet you at last.”

“Thanks, but it was nothing. These two are very special agents of whatever organisation it is that you work for. Look after them or you will have me to answer for!”

“Sam, about that,” I said.
“We are done with the department. Once all the loose ends are wrapped up we are retiring. This time for good.”

Sam held up his hand.

“I know and reluctantly, I have to agree but there are some loose ends that need tidying up aren’t there?”

He took a deep breath.
“The tip about South Georgia is being worked on. Our allies in the area are mobilising their special forces. There is a detachment of SBS[1] on exercise in the area. They will be leading the operation from our side.”

“Now, what did you find here? I thought our people had almost torn the place apart after Farthing was arrested?”

“Sam, one of the bad guys lobbed a grenade at an old shed. It looks like there is a trap door under the floor.”

“Ah, I see. There is a team on their way down from London. Once they are here and Special Branch have cleared off you can call it a day. No one is going to want to investigate this any further. We have our man in custody and he’s going somewhere where he can’t get away.”

“Not South Georgia? That seems to not be a secret any longer?”

“I agree. No, we have an alternative place of residence for Mr Esteban and his ilk being prepared as we speak.”

He wasn’t going to give any more information away. What we didn’t know, we could not divulge.
He started looking around. I guessed why.

“Looking for the backup team?”

Sam chuckled.

“I see that they have made themselves known to you.”

“Yes, a Captain Brooks. From Hereford I presume?”

Sam smiled.
“I can’t possibly say.”

“Jock knew him from his time in the Army."

Sam just grinned.

"Well, they were not needed but he was quite complimentary about our actions.”

“Well done and that comes from the top if you get my drift?”

“Thanks Sam.”

---

Sam left in the Helicopter with Daniel Esteban secured in chains along with the rest of the people from the department a few minutes later.

Shortly after, six vehicles that were obviously former ambulances arrived and sorted out the wounded and the dead. They left within thirty minutes taking their passengers to somewhere safe and secure to get medical treatment.

---

We hung around until the department’s search team arrived. They soon discovered a large underground room that contained a lot of money and works of art as well as a considerable quantity of gold. It appeared that the stairs led down to an old Air-Raid shelter.

I knew that Sam would be pleased. There was at least two if not three years of operating expenses for the department in that cache.

As it was getting dark, Jemma Jock and myself climbed into the Peugeot and left the crime scene.

“Where too now Miss Jemma?” asked Jock as we headed for the M4 Motorway.

“I think we all deserve a good meal and a good night’s sleep. I know a nice quiet place near Stratford where we can spend the night. Then we can drop this off at our depot in Birmingham tomorrow morning. Then we can all take the train north. Is that ok for you?”

“That’s fine by me. I’ll leave you in Glasgow if that’s all right. There are a few people I need to see before… Well, there are a few loose ends that need resolving before I come out west.”

“Don’t worry Jock, we will see you when you are good and ready. I would not delay in putting in an offer on that cottage it I were you. We don’t want some outsider buying it as a holiday home now do we?”

We all laughed. We encountered some resistance when we first moved to the area but that softened considerably when we made it clear that we were going to live there all the year and that I ws related to the previous occupant. The next week we'd attended a Ceilidh and made fools of ourselves trying to perform a ‘Dashing White Sergeant’ dance with two local men. That had really broken the ice with the locals.

“I know Miss Jemma. That’s one of the things that I’ll be sorting out in Glasgow.”

Jemma and I both sighed at his use of the word ‘Miss’ again.

“Sorry Jemma force of habit. I’ll try to do better in future,” said a slightly embarrassed Jock.

“Don’t worry Jock, it will be fine and Miss Siobhan will forgive you as well.”

---

[three months later]

“Is that everything?” Jemma asked Jock as we finished unloading a small rental van that he’d driven up from Glasgow in.

“Yes, that’s the sum total of all my worldly goods I’m afraid,” he replied slightly reluctantly.
“Too many years in the Army I’m afraid. I never married so I was always in barracks. After I left the Service, I stayed in a two-room hoose in Glasgow. There really was not much room their either.”

“You have plenty of space here.”

“Och, I know that Lassie. That’s the problem. Too much space.”

Just then Siobhan, the lady from the Post Office emerged from the cottage.

“Dinner is ready,” she called.

A little later, we left them to sort out the cottage. Jock and Siobhan looked pretty happy together.

We never found out what happened to Daniel Esteban but Sebastian Downs had been apprehended trying to get into a small plane at Fairoaks Airport in Surrey. He was clearly trying to flee the country. He was charged with espionage, attempted murder, conspiracy to commit mass murder and a number of other crimes. He got a whole life sentence[2] that was to be served in the same place as his boss.

Life for us in Scotland revolved around growing our own food, fishing, sailing and being part of the community. Jemma was even learning Gaelic at classes in the nearby village of Strontian.

Our days as secret agents for the unnamed department were well any truly over. After a year or so, we really didn’t miss it one bit. The locals were not the inquisitive sort of people which suited us down to the ground. As far as they were concerned we’d been civil servants in London and had more than enough of the big city which, was good enough for them.

They’d all have a fit if they knew what was hidden in various parts of our house. Sam had insisted that we have some weaponry for defensive purposes in case we had some unwelcome callers. He said that this was SOP for former MI6 and MI5 agents so we had little choice but to accept them. Apart from giving the weapons a regular cleaning, our former life was history and one that we had no intention of returning to in the future.

---

Jock married Siobhan from the Post Office the following summer. We were maids of honour but we didn’t have the heart to tell them that we were already married until they returned from their honeymoon. We’d eloped to Edinburgh a few weeks after returning from the operation. Sam was in the city on business at the Scottish Parliament so we'd roped him in to give us away. We’d realised once we were back in Scotland in our minds that we’d really been married for years. All we needed was a bit of paper to make it official.

Jock’s reply was very appropriate.
“I always knew that there was something very special about you two but sometimes, you keep too many secrets from people who care about you.”

We all laughed. He was right of course.

Jemma said,
“We are done keeping secrets from anyone apart from Angelique’s best Sea Trout fishing spots.”

I tugged my ear which told her that she was telling porkies.
She responded by sticking her tongue out at me. She’d never done that before which pleased me no end.

We all raised a glass of an exceptional 20 year old Islay Single Malt Whisky with just a little added water, to that.

[the end]

[Authors Note]
I hope you enjoyed my attempt at a Thriller.

I started writing this in 2016 but got as far as the ‘Ouch’ moment and could not really decide where to go next with.

Then, while on holiday in early August 2018, I visited the Ardnamurchan Peninsular and the Isles of Mull, Skye and Iona. While enjoying the sunshine and the views out to sea (yes it does shine in Scotland) from Ardnamurchan Lighthouse, the plot for the rest of the story came into my mind. Ardnamurchan Lighthouse is the most westerly point on the UK Mainland. I’ll be returning in 2019 when I ride the ‘Four Corners’. This visits the most southerly, easterly, northerly and westerly points on the UK Mainland.

[1]SBS: Special Boat Service. The Royal Navy equivalent to the SAS.
[2]A whole life sentence in the UK means you will spend the rest of your life in prison without the chance of parole.