UG2:Spying By Numbers Part 1 Rest & Recuperation?

First posted here in 2014/5, this story had only been available on Kindle since 2017. The third & fourth books are also now out.
 

"Come on Sophie, I need the shower too!"

There was a muffled response that Gail didn't quite get, she started repeating her demand when the bathroom door opened.

"It's all yours, mi lady."

"'bout time too, at this rate we won''t get any dinner."

"Look, I had to wash sand out of everywhere, and I'm not joking, plus my hair needed deep conditioning after a day on the beach."

Gail now took her turn in the shower, relishing the gentle water.

Finally the two girls were sat in the bar with a glass of wine, just waiting for their meals to be cooked. The sun was just dipping into the Atlantic Ocean and there was a strange calmness in the air.

"I could live down here, Sophie."

"I know what you mean, I've spent several weeks in Cornwall over the past few years when Prince Charles was visiting in his capacity as the Duke of Cornwall, the weather was almost always fantastic and I wasn't really needed much."

"Well, this is a paid holiday too, how much longer do we have?"

"It's Thursday and we're due to leave on Sunday morning."

"Only two more beach days? How can I cope?"

"You're coping fine Gail, this is R&R if you recall."

"I know, what time's my hair appointment tomorrow?"

"At half nine, but it's in Helston so we need to get going at half eight. If you're good we can be on Praa Sands after lunch."

"If I'm good???? Ruddy cheek."

"Ladies, your table is ready."

"Thank you."

Gail and Sophie picked up their bags, the waiter collected their glasses and the now-empty bottle of Merlot.

"Would you like another bottle?"

"Yes please."

Gail Jones and Detective Sergeant Sophie Grieve were hiding out on the southern Cornish coast, only a few miles from Land's End. The intention was to move Gail somewhere out of the way where the chance of a leak was reduced as much as possible. In the end, Sophie knew about the Praa Sands Holiday & Surf Centre from her previous Cornish visits so phoned the place and booked the two of them in. In a few days they would head back, but to where?

The previous Friday all hell had broken out at the Security Service safe house in Hertfordshire. Investigations were ongoing but an attempt had been made to force entry into the building, with the intended aim to murder Gail. The attackers, a mixture of Germans and Iranians, had been repelled by the local staff but the support of the SAS had been needed. The closest the attackers had managed was the entrance to the underground carpark and just inside the front gates.

Justin, one of the staff, had found Gail slumped just inside the conservatory and, with Sophie's help, carried her to the emergency room in the basement. She came around within a few minutes but was deemed to have suffered concussion so would require a trip to hospital, not the best outcome possible especially given the security risks.

Another plan was needed.

Once the all-clear was given a full evacuation was ordered. A military helicopter landed on the front lawn and the house front door was opened, something Gail had never previously seen. She was instructed not to take anything other than her bag, her belongings would follow. Sophie assisted Gail board the chopper, they were greeted by the SAS team who'd just helped out. Gail was not yet aware of the revised plan, were they flying to a local hospital?

The flight took them all back to the SAS barracks in Hereford, with Gail dropping into the medical office to be checked out. It was whilst she was there that Gail's phone rang, she opened her bag to retrieve it then remembered the Glock handgun that was also in her bag. She wasn't the only person to spot the firearm.

"Hello Helen."

"Where are you?"

"Safe at the moment."

"Can you enable Secure on your phone, press the menu key first."

"Got it."

"Right, we're secure, where are you?"

"SAS Barracks, Hereford."

"That's pretty safe. What's the plan?"

"Sophie and I have just discussed Cornwall seeing as we're not that far from the South West. She'll organise a car when one of these fine officers drops us into Hereford town centre."

"Okay, keep me informed, do not use any Abigail documents, understood?"

"Yes, Bye."

Gail slid the phone back into her bag, unaware that several armed personnel were now looking at her strangely. The senior officer spoke.

"Madam, is that a handgun?"

"Er, yes, a Glock 26. I have some spare magazines too. I understand it takes NATO standard 9mm ammunition if you can spare me a box?"

"We'll see about that, but why would an accountant be carrying a concealed weapon?" Gail still had her ID card around her neck.

"My job title is irrelevant, my firearms certificate is also in there, feel free to have a look. By the way, where's my bodyguard?"

"Outside. I'd like you to find the certificate, slowly now please."

Gail had the certificate in a side pocket so pulled that out easily. She unfolded it and handed it to the officer.

"This is a Met Police Firearms Unit licence."

"If you say so, it was only issued this morning and I hadn't had a chance to read it, what with being attacked by terrorists and all that."

"Who do you actually work for?"

"The Security Service, on a joint Met Police Security Service counter terrorism initiative." She made up the name on the spot, it seemed to impress the officer.

"What about your bodyguard?"

"She's just finished with the Diplomatic and Royal Protection Team and is my close protection officer, she's armed with a Glock 17, personally I find the '26 easier to handle."

"I'm not happy with you two having weapons on this base."

"I was even less happy being issued with it this morning and then be attacked. As soon as your doctor has cleared me then we'll be gone. I have to go into hiding whilst a new identity is dreamed up for me, again."

Gail had just become Abigail Adams, receiving a full pack of identity documents only a few days earlier. That identity had been leaked by a mole within the Security Service, along with her location.

***

Dinner in the beachside restaurant was acceptable, no, more than acceptable. With the fishing port of Newlyn only a few miles away the primary diet locally came from the sea. Tonight's star guest was langoustines, as part of a fruits de mer assortment. Sophie wanted a walk along the foreshore but Gail was full and tired so they just headed back to their chalet.

On Friday morning they drove the short distance into Helston, a medieval market town. Gail had been here on Monday with Sophie to visit the pharmacy, Gail didn't have her HRT pills or iron tablets, a phone call to Dr Hughes and a sympathetic pharmacist sorted that one out. Fortunately both prescriptions had been issued to Gail Jones and not Abigail Adams. Whilst in Helston on Monday she'd also made an urgent appointment.

This time Gail was booked to see a hair stylist as she needed a new look before they could head back into England on Sunday. The solution was to lighten it so Gail became a brunette. The stylist then added extensions, giving her near shoulder length hair. The process was not quick and took several hours to achieve so, by the time she left the salon, lunch beckoned. However, before that could be dealt with, one issue that needed to be resolved urgently was her glasses. Regardless of the colour or style of her hair, Gail's glasses had remained unchanged. They walked into an opticians and explained she needed several pairs of glasses with the same prescription as now.

"Do you have the prescription with you?"

"No, sorry."

"Never mind, would you like to choose some frames?"

Gail and Sophie spent some time browsing the racks before choosing two frames that were unlike her current glasses.

"Okay, you can collect them next Tuesday."

"Not sooner?"

"Sorry, that's the timescale we work to."

Gail decided a quick conversation with Sophie was needed.

"Are we needed in London? I don't remember Helen saying anything?"

"No, officially you're on leave for medical reasons so a few more days here won't matter."

Gail paid for the frames with her Gail Jones debit card, Helen had warned that the Abigail Adams accounts would be closed and any trace of Miss A Adams removed from databases. Under those circumstances Gail had limited spending options.

They settled in the Blue Anchor for a light lunch, not realising from the frontage that the pub was around six hundred years old and had an equally ancient, and working, brewery in the yard. On this occasion Gail and Sophie drank fruit juice but promised the barman to try the beer another time.

It was now looking likely that their beach trip wasn't going to happen so the two girls drove to Falmouth and descended on the Trago Mills store. They'd both left London without a change of clothes or even a toothbrush so had stopped at Exeter on the way down to do some shopping, followed by the Trago Mills store at Newton Abbot, half way between Exeter and Plymouth. They'd bought enough clothes for a few days but now needed more, especially if they were staying longer than planned.

Although Gail had put £10,000 in the Gail Jones account some time ago, she wasn't sure how long it would take before the money paid to Abigail Adams was moved to a different identity. To put it mildly, how long would £10k last? Given the day's major expenses now included a cart full of clothes and she had gained a receipt worth £350 for glasses, the money wouldn't last forever.

Back at the holiday village Gail stowed her clothes whilst Sophie went to talk to the manager. She was back within a few minutes.

"There's a small problem Gail but it's nothing to be concerned about."

"Then why is it a problem?"

"This cabin has already been allocated on Sunday but he'll let us have one of the deluxe cabins for no extra charge, plus the staff will move our clothes on Sunday morning for us."

"That doesn't sound too bad."

"Not really. How about a shower then we grab dinner?"

"You go first, Sophie, I want to speak to Helen."

"Okay."

Gail waited until she could hear water running then called Helen.

"Hi Helen, can we go secure?"

"Sure, in 3?"

"I'm still here, are we secure?"

"Yes, what's your status?"

"New hairstyle and I've ordered new glasses but can't collect them until Tuesday."

"Tuesday?"

"That's the speed that they work at down here. We've extended our stay for a few more days because of that."

"Fair enough. I've finished closing the Abigail Adams accounts and cancelled everything else. I need your input for a new name."

"I knew you'd ask, I guess we have to ditch any variation on Gail now?"

"I would advise that."

"I've had a think, let me know what you prefer?"

"You are the one to use it so you must be comfortable, just remember it must not have a connection to what's gone before."

"Okay, how about the following: Heather Doughty, Yvonne Fullerton, Fiona Young?"

"Interesting choice, I don't think Fiona suits you, how about a combination? Yvonne Doughty or Heather Young?"

"'Heather Young' sounds like the best, I'll go with that."

"Great, I'll start work on your new identity in the morning. I know you said about returning here after Tuesday but how about staying a bit longer? I might be able to arrange fresh accommodation by the end of next week and have your clothes shipped there?"

"Sounds like a plan, I'll run it past Sophie when she's out of the shower."

"Okay, oh I need to organise a new temporary firearms cert for you, go to Helston police station in the morning."

"Can't I just return the Glock?"

"Not possible until you get back, I've got to go as it'll probably be a long and strange conversation with Devon & Cornwall Constabulary. Bye Heather."

"Bye Helen."

Sophie had just walked back into the lounge area as Gail finished the call.

"How did it go?"

"Helen's suggested we don't head back before the end of next week as she may have accommodation for us."

"Fair enough but we have to vacate here by Wednesday, how about a staggered return? Plymouth on Wednesday night then we go along the south coast?"

"Sounds like a plan. We've chosen my new name but we can't use it until we're away from here, presumably."

"It would be awkward to use a new name before we get to London as you won't have any documents before then."

"Of course. Oh, Helen's asked me to collect a new firearms cert tomorrow in Helston. Another day nowhere near the beach?"

"Come on Gail, we've just gained a few extra days and maybe tomorrow afternoon is still on? Get in that shower so we can have dinner at a reasonable time."

"Yes mum!"

With her longer hair Gail was now taking much more time in the shower than before, even blow-drying her hair took longer. She complained.

"Hey Miss Jones, you bought into it!"

Her answer is not suitable for this epistle.

***

The next few days seemed to fly past, apart from the time spent on the beach topping up her tan Gail had made several trips into Helston with Sophie. The duty officer at Helston Police Station was unsure what had been arranged on the Saturday morning.

"So what is it you need?"

"I need my firearms certificate issued in a different name."

"Why?"

"I'm sorry I can't tell you. Here, read the existing one."

He did.

"This is not a standard certificate, in fact I've never seen one like this before."

"No, it is a Met Police firearms unit certificate."

"What's it for? It does not refer to any specific weapon and includes several exemptions from the Firearms Act."

"Do you need to know what it's for?"

"I should."

Gail reached into her bag and removed the Glock.

"Oh shit."

She put it away. Sophie decided to intervene.

"I'm DS Grieve, here's my warrant, I'm Miss Jones' close protection officer. Perhaps we should speak to your Inspector?"

"He's in Truro, we're only a small station. Anyway, I don't like the idea of you two running around Cornwall with weapons, I take it you're carrying too?"

"Yes. Now, can you check if you have the fax from The Met?"

He picked up a phone and called a number somewhere else in the station.

"Sally, can you check the fax machine, apparently there's a fax from the Met?"

He listened for a moment, "Okay, can you bring it to the front counter?"

"Right, it appears there is a fax from the Counter Terrorism Branch, what the hell is this all about?"

"I'm sorry but you're not cleared for that information."

"What a load of tosh," a WPC arrived and handed the sergeant the fax. "Oh, it says you are authorised under the Firearms Act to carry the weapon for personal protection but your name needs amending."

"So, can you do that?"

"No, I don't have any of the relevant licences here. The only thing I can do is to amend it manually and endorse it with the station stamp. If you want anything else done, go to Truro or Plymouth."

He made the amendment, changing Abigail Adams to Gail Jones then copied it. This copy would go to Special Branch in Plymouth, he figured something was wrong but didn't have the resources to deal with it.

A minute later they were back outside.

"Sophie, remind me why did we just do that?"

"Because if you had to prove you were entitled to that certificate it would be difficult as that name didn't now exist."

"I suppose so."

"Anyway, let's see if we can find some luggage ready for Wednesday?"

***

On Wednesday lunchtime the two girls were sat on Plymouth Hoe, looking out to Drake's Island and the Atlantic, enjoying an ice cream. They had checked into a small guest house half a mile from where they were sat, avoiding the Holiday Inn tower that was behind them.

"Isn't this where Francis Drake played bowls before going to defeat the Spanish Armada?"

"That's what the history books said when I was at school, Gail, but I think it's a bit apocryphal."

"Nice story though?"

"Even if it's probably a distortion of the truth? I suppose so."

Let's go for a walk, isn't The Barbican down there?" Gail pointed vaguely to her left.

"Okay, that's one of the oldest parts of Plymouth."

They were walking down one of the narrow cobbled streets when two youths came out of doorways.

"Give us your money, bitches." They had knives.
Cobbled

Gail knew that running was not an option, not in the heels she'd decided to wear this Wednesday. She glanced at Sophie.

"Come on, bitches, give us your bags."

Sophie spoke for them, "since we're both on our periods there's some used sanitary towels in our bags, would just our purses do?"

It seemed that neither of the youths had much experience with feminine hygiene products, which is what Sophie had guessed. One of them waggled their knife.

"Okay, just the purses, quick now."

Gail and Sophie both went into their bags but the look on the faces of the youths was priceless, as they saw two Glocks at close range.

"Drop the knives and get on the floor! I'm a police officer!"

Common sense doesn't appear to be taught in school these days so the two youths lunged at Gail and Sophie. Two shots rang out, the lads dropped and appeared to evacuate their bowels at the same time. Sophie had a set of handcuffs in her vacuous bag so chained them together, by the ankles. Gail didn't see the point in keeping her weapon out so dropped it in her bag, she now had nine rounds left in the magazine. She kicked the knives out of their reach.

Sophie still had her weapon trained on the two idiots when local officers arrived.

"What's going on? Put that weapon down!"

Sophie moved away from the lads, who were muttering death threats, and put her Glock, with the magazine removed, on the cobbled road.

"I'm a police officer, my warrant is in my bag."

A female officer retrieved Sophie's bag and started searching through it.

"Okay, okay. What happened?"

"These two went to mug us. Their knives are over there. We fired a warning shot."

"We?"

"Yes, we were both armed."

He turned back to Gail. "Where's your gun?"

"In my bag, I'll put it on the ground."

"Slowly!"

Gail took the handgun out of her bag and similarly removed the magazine before putting both parts on the ground, she then offered her bag to the female officer.

"Are you a police officer too?"

"No."

"Then why are you carrying an illegal weapon?"

"It's quite legal, it was issued by a Met Police armourer last Friday just before we were attacked by terrorists. My firearms cert is in my bag."

The female officer had already found it and was reading it, "Sarge, the name's been changed and there's a Helston stamp on it."

"Special Branch put a notice out about that. I think you two ought to come with us."

"Where to?"

"Charles Cross Police Station."

"Far?"

"A mile from here."

"Maybe I can get my licence re-issued properly there?"

Sophie didn't try to complain about their de-facto detention as they were driven the short distance into the city centre. Gail pointed at the shell of a church sat in the middle of a roundabout, the WPC responded.

"That's Charles Church, it was destroyed in the second world war and is left as a memorial to all those who lost their lives to the bombings."

The entrance to the Police Station was just off the roundabout, they pulled into the underground car park then Gail and Sophie were told to follow the WPC to a meeting room. Neither of the girls could make a call yet, even though that was paramount.

"Coffee?" Silly question.

As they sipped the hot and almost completely tasteless machine beverage various people started arriving, eventually the door was shut.

"Good afternoon everyone, I'm DI Collins and we're here to find out what the hell is going on. Let's start with Miss Jones, or Adams, telling us who she really is?"

"Sir, could I respectfully ask that you call DI Keane at SO15?"

"Why?"

"Because she will vouch for us, also I don't know who everyone is in here, but I'm not happy with it."

"And why would that be?"

"Because I don't know if anyone in this room is cleared to the appropriate level."

"What level is that?"

"Secret."

"What are you, a bloody spy?"

"Yes. Next?"

Gail kept smiling, showing fear at this point was not an option, she glanced at Sophie and nodded then looked back at DI Collins.

"What about you?" He pointed at Sophie, Gail's diversion had worked.

"Sir, you already know that I'm DS Sophie Grieve. I'm currently Miss Jones' close protection officer, we're down here because her location and identity were compromised last Friday and we were attacked by terrorists in Hertfordshire."

"I heard about it, you're telling me that she was the target?"

"Yes. Now, could you please get hold of DI Keane? Her direct number is in our phones."

There was a pause whilst Gail unlocked her phone, which the DI handed to her.

"There's her number, but there's a limit to what she can say on an unsecured line."

There was a telephone in front of him, he picked it up and dialled the number.

"SO15 DI Keane."

"DI Keane, this is DI Collins of Devon and Cornwall Special Branch."

"Good afternoon, how can I help you?"

"I have two ladies with me who say they know you."

"Gail and Sophie I presume, what's happened?"

"They are helping us after they both discharged their weapons in the middle of Plymouth. What can you tell me about them?"

"DS Grieve is there to protect Miss Jones but they both have valid certificates for the firearms they carry and, most importantly, appropriate training. I understand that Miss Jones has had a name change on her certificate."

"Yes, who or what was Abigail Adams?"

"I'm sorry, that's off-limits."

"Okay, what is Miss Jones' role?"

"She's working on a counter terrorism initiative but is at severe risk of assassination."

"So you authorised her firearms certificate and the issue of a lethal weapon?"

"No, the Assistant Commissioner authorised it, with the support of the Chairman of the Intelligence Oversight Committee."

"That puts me in a difficult position."

"So, what happened?"

"Apparently two of Plymouth's finest youths pulled knives on the ladies who proceeded to fire a warning shot."

"Understandable, they wouldn't want their bags stolen, would they, especially if there was a pistol in there?"

"Good point."

"So what about the two toe-rags?"

"We've had to hose the cells down, they kacked themselves."

"Good, maybe they'll think twice before pulling that stunt again."

"So I take it you wouldn't support any action against the two ladies?"

"Certainly not, no-one was injured and a crime was prevented. A good result. Given that Gail has now had four attempts on her life in the past six weeks, today must rank as a quiet day."

"Forgive me if I don't share that point of view."

"Now, Gail is at risk if her location becomes known, she and DS Grieve need to leave, with their weapons."

"They're safe here."

"They were attacked inside a Security Services safe house and had to be rescued by the SAS, what makes you think your police station is safe?"

"So she wasn't kidding about the spy thing?"

"I don't know what you're referring to."

"Never mind, thank you for clarifying your position DI Keane."

"No problem. Bye."

He put the handset down and looked at Gail then at Sophie.

"Why couldn't this have happened next week when I'm on leave? Who were these terrorists who were after you?"

Sophie answered, "we believe they an al-Qaeda affiliate."

"And they were after you?" He turned to Gail but was rather incredulous.

"Yes. It's not a whole lot of fun."

"Sir," Sophie grabbed his attention, "have the two muggers been interviewed yet?"

"No, the duty solicitor was dealing with another case."

"Then I suggest you're likely worried about some defence these two might make claiming they were shot at?"

"Yes."

"We're probably not leaving town until lunchtime tomorrow, if you need a statement then I'm sure we can do one, but I suspect they'll confess to this one plus several other muggings."

"You might be correct, but that's not my territory any more. I'll talk to the custody sergeant."

-----------------------------------------------------------
To be continued

Unaccounted Gains Books 3 & 4 are also available on Kindle