UG2:Spying By Numbers
Part 7 House Of Cards |
First posted here in 2014/5, this story had only been available on Kindle since 2017. The third & fourth books are also now out.
The sign said 'Thames Avionics', Heather followed Jenny in through the reception and swiped a pass by an inner door. Another door led into a comfortable sitting area, a very familiar face was waiting there.
"Helen? What's going on? Have I been stitched up?!"
"Calm down Heather."
"No! What the hell is going on?"
"Gail! All will be explained, just sit down."
The use of her former, legal, name certainly achieved the objective of grabbing Heather's attention. No-one was making any physical threats against her, or even verbal threats. She sat, holding her handbag close.
"Okay, start talking. Firstly, Jenny, what's your role?"
"I'm your new case officer and boss."
"Jennifer Osborne?"
"Yes."
"Okay, so, Helen, what's your position, I thought you'd been sacked or even eliminated?"
"Far from it, but I had to disappear leaving a nasty whiff so certain folks wouldn't dig deep. My guessing is that you did indeed dig."
"Yes Helen, and I didn't like what I saw."
"It was left there to be seen."
"Oh."
"Look, we have a hell of alot to dissect, did you bring your laptop?"
"Obviously. Look, who's going to tell me what is really going on?"
Jenny answered, "the short version is that the Fourani investigation has been used to identify rogue elements in the Establishment, police and security services as well as the terrorists you found."
"So I've been played along for someone else's pet project?"
"That's not strictly true, my guess is that you've come up with the goods."
"Maybe, but I still don't trust you."
"We'll deal with the trust first. Helen, turn on the telly."
The TV turned out to be a monitor, split screen with Emily Keane and Dave Brown in separate offices. They must have been listening.
"Hi Heather."
"Hello, err, Emily, Dave. Now I'm really confused."
Emily spoke, "Heather this has been a much bigger operation than you could ever imagine, we've been able to identify people who were paid off by Fourani, or who profited from it. Dirty cash has been seized and rogue elements neutralised."
"So where have I fitted into this?"
"You knew the Fourani data better than anyone, when Hamiz was killed certain people wanted that data for themselves, whether simply to destroy all trace of it or to extract enough information to blackmail and target others. You went on the run with that data and with the knowledge to make sense of it. No-one else had the understanding of the data that you had. The operation, however, had to simply look as if it was a exercise to find drugs and arms in order to bring out the real targets."
"I'm with you so far."
"As both the Met Police and the Security Service were involved, plus your almost unique circumstances, it meant that our operation generated many interested parties. Every time there was a major success against the Fourani empire, questions were asked and limited information about the operation was released. 'Teasers' if you wish."
"So you used the operation, and me, as the honey pot."
"In a way, yes. We knew who the main targets were but needed the evidence, physical and circumstantial."
"So why wasn't I told?"
"Your innocence was key to selling this operation in order to drag those rogue elements into the open. That's why we placed such an important emphasis on your personal safety."
"But some of those rogue elements couldn't have been in the original plan?"
"True, we picked up a few extra during the past few weeks and unfortunately they did get closer to you than we planned."
"Thanks."
"We can only do so much. Dave?"
"Thanks Emily. Heather, I can only confirm what Emily just said, this operation has grown remarkably; we're on the cusp of taking out some key players who think they're untouchable. I can understand if you're not comfortable but you remain at risk until we can deal with the threats, whether or not you participate."
"So I can either continue to help and have your protection or constantly look over my shoulder?"
"That's a bit of an exaggeration."
"But not by much I fear."
"Thanks Emily, Dave, we'll let you know how this goes." Jenny waved at Helen to turn off the screen.
Heather couldn't see any cameras, but could assume that Emily Keane and Dave Brown could see her, just what was this location used for? She decided to play along, but first she had more questions.
"Jenny, I thought you'd take another house after the terrorists attacked the one in Hertfordshire?"
"My stint as a housekeeper was almost up so I went for the newly vacant position in the Finance Team."
"What about Dave?"
"He was coming up to retirement anyway but was offered a role as a rat catcher a seeker of new talent for the last few months before he hands in his pass. Again, it muddies the waters for anyone who's on the inside, having the lead officer removed for making mistakes, especially if the announcement is in front of one of the targets."
"Okay, Helen, what's your story?"
"As I said, I had to slip away, it would have been a few days earlier but I stupidly offered to house-sit for you."
"That laptop you left me has been taken away."
"I'm not surprised, it was laden with nasties."
"Oh."
"Look, my name isn't really Helen Bell, it never was. I'm pretending to be a bent police civilian from Stoke Newington who was the fixer for Hamiz Fourani. She bought co-operation and services with Fourani's money, I was thus able to make certain people think I was playing you along."
"Great, so I'm a pawn."
"No, virtually the entire criminal enterprise was taken out in the first tranche of folk we took out, the rogue ones who remained were in the Establishment, or senior police and other enforcement officers who were our real targets. Your laptop was delivered to me with instructions just to give it to you. It was the last act before I had to be discredited."
"What will you do when this is over?"
"I'll revert to my legal identity, or get a new one, and go do something else."
"What does Sophie know?"
"Strictly she's Emily's responsibility but Sophie was briefed on the broader limits of the operation."
"So she knew more than me?"
"She didn't know the operational details, just what the limits were and that there was a high risk that the operation could be taken out from above. She was there to protect the operation as well as you."
"So, who's going to tell her that I'm here?"
"Emily will."
Heather started laying out the evidence she'd found, the first time she'd gone through the accounts she hadn't known who K. Bond was, but now knew that Commander Kenneth Bond was on the Fourani payroll as a consultant, to the tune of £50,000 a year. It hadn't gone into his personal account either but Heather identified a separate account in Geneva.
She also found entries for A. Greig in the data, but again hadn't known Anna's surname until recently. Anna's role was undefined. Jeremy was also in there, as a consultant. It was little surprise when a clutch of senior police officers from The Met and Essex forces were located, just how many police officers had Fourani paid off?
Jenny had a list of names she wanted to check against the data, some were a hit others not, but often aliases were referenced in the accounts and not the true names. The biggest catch, however, was a serving member of parliament.
"Shit!"
The worst part about this particular politician was that he was the current Chairman of the Joint Intelligence Committee, the same person who had insisted that Heather, as Abigail, was issued a firearm. He had plainly had been fully briefed on her part in the operation.
A few of the names were ambiguous enough that it would be difficult to say aye or nay to whether this was indeed the same person, but mis-identification of a double-barrelled name was pretty rare, especially if it was printed as 'The Right Honourable Sir Charles Worthington-Hayes' in the accounts. In this case, the 'Right Honourable' tag would mean he was also a member of the Queen's Privy Council, a coup indeed!
Perhaps he would be retiring soon to 'spend more time with his family'?
David's alive!
Heather by now was almost completely satisfied that this was not a complex setup. By two in the afternoon she had generated a sizeable list of names, mostly verified, which Jenny was compiling into her own spreadsheet.
"That's enough for now, I'm hungry." Heather put her laptop down.
"I'd forgotten about lunch, any ideas Helen?"
"I have some sandwiches made up, come on through."
They left Heather's laptop, albeit now locked, in the lounge area and moved further into the industrial unit. What surprised Heather was that it was built much like an apartment, just without windows. There was some natural light through ceiling panes however, giving a welcome warmth to the light in the late summer afternoon. Other doorways from this dining & cooking central area seemingly led to bedrooms and, most urgently, a bathroom.
"Back in a minute!" panted Heather as she ran for the loo.
When she returned, her laptop was now on a wooden table, she also now noticed the device in a corner which it appeared that Jenny, using her own netbook, had been printing the results of her own enquiries.
Helen carried a pile of sandwiches and bottles of water over, giving everyone a chance to take sustenance before any work-like activity continued. As it was, Heather went back to her enquiries before anyone else.
The next question came soon after. "So, what is this place?"
"It's a sort of Bed & Breakfast where high level security is less important, the usual guests aren't likely to attempt to run off, in fact you can leave if you want. You did know we're only a few miles from Gatwick Airport?"
"Who owns it?"
"Technically it's a private company, Thames Avionics, but the firm has very little actual trade."
"Be honest, what's the plan, Helen? Do I stay here for six weeks whilst you round up all these names?"
"No, all I suggest if that you stay here until tomorrow lunchtime, by which time a series of search warrants will have been executed. Once a few key personnel are taken out the whole house of cards will collapse."
"What's going on out there in the real world at the moment, then?"
Jenny answered that. "As you know, Helen has been discredited and is now out of sight as far as most people are concerned, Dave Brown is taking early retirement and the finance team is seemingly headless as my name is unknown, I haven't actually been to my desk yet. Unsurprisingly Commander Bond is currently trying to wind up the Met's investigation because of, how he wonderfully puts it, 'the utter farce that's going on'."
"Is Emily allowing him to do that?"
"He's senior to her so she'll play along, but the Assistant Commissioner knows the full story here and is employing delaying tactics, he's said he can't meet with Commander Bond until tomorrow noon."
"Can I guess that Commander Bond will be arrested at that time?"
"You can guess, I couldn't possibly say!"
That generated laughter and smiles, Heather had now completely relaxed but wasn't prepared to accept absolutely everything at face value, not yet at least. Was this another Russian doll?
"What's the plan for tomorrow?"
"I'll explain but I'm not sure you'll like it?"
"Try me."
"Once the key players have been rounded up, we'll hold a press conference at New Scotland Yard to disclose the scope of the operation. I want you there."
"I don't like it, you definitely weren't wrong there."
"Think about this, we'll present Heather Young to the public and explain that you were the key forensic accountant responsible for taking down one of the biggest criminal and terrorist networks in recent years."
"I still don't like the implications, what happens afterwards?"
"There will be a few requests for chat shows and the serious news programs, of course, as well as newspaper interviews."
"Now you're winding me up! I won't co-operate."
"No, anyone who is still out there will no doubt want to get at you, but you'll be a national figure, Heather's photo will be everywhere for a few weeks."
"I'll be the criminal's target number one!"
"Maybe, but anyone who wants to have a go at you would risk exposure, you will plainly have some very obvious protection and you'll make it clear to the press that you're not frightened."
"Just assuming I don't laugh at you and walk out of here right now, what's in it for me?"
"In two or so weeks, we’ll book you into a clinic for some facial remodelling, implants and the other surgery, if you want it."
"Now I know you're leading me on - that is absolute hogwash."
"Okay, I was stretching the timescale slightly. The reassignment surgery would still be ten months away, give or take, but a little facial surgery and some real boobs? That can be done sooner."
"What about my name, isn't 'Heather Young' compromised?"
"Not really," replied Helen, "Jeremy and Anna both knew the name but no other details, do you know how many 'Heather Youngs there are in the Greater London area?"
"No, but then the house isn't even in Greater London, it's in Surrey."
"Quite. Now, how about a cottage in Cornwall? You'd be Gail Jones down there."
"Are you talking about me being paid off?"
"Not quite, but you would be compensated by the Met Police and Security Service for your assistance in the investigation. The remains of any money I had for you is currently in your Gail Jones accounts, where as your security service pay is in your Heather Young current account.
"So a dual life? This is far too complicated, why can't I stay where I am, keep the name, avoid the press and kill off Gail?"
"What if Gail gives the interviews, perhaps only the newspapers? That would mean to could deal with David's disappearance, we would write the story and offer it to the agencies so there's no risk. Gail will insist she wants privacy."
"So I stay as Heather, I might as well keep that house in Redhill for when I'm needed in London and take a cottage in Cornwall?"
"You would have to pay for the cottage yourself, but we'd make sure you had all the necessary communications."
"What about protection?"
"If the risk goes, so does Sophie, but you are on the pill aren't you!"
That ended the serious discussion for the moment. Heather was now looking further into her future than she had done for several weeks, and it didn't seem like she was about to be cut loose by the Security Service either, judging by Jenny's words.
There was a bing-bong sound, causing Helen to head out towards the reception area. She returned a minute later with someone in tow.
"I though I told you not to leave the house?!"
"I love you too Sophie!"
"Seriously, what the hell have you got into? Emily wouldn't tell me much more than the postcode of this place let alone why you're here."
"I only found out a few things myself. By the way, you do know Jennifer after all."
"Hi Jenny. I guess Helen's kosher?"
"Yes, Sophie, she's okay. Did you bring an overnight bag as I requested?"
"Yes it's outside, I guess there's have a plan, I want to go over it before I agree that you can do it."
"You haven't heard what it is yet?"
"No, and you haven't offered me a tea or coffee either."
"Anyway, how did you get here?"
"I was fed up being without a car so I hired one whilst I was out this morning. I was at the Redhill swimming pool when Emily rang me."
Whilst Sophie collected her bag from the hire car, Heather went back to searching the accounts for specific names, or the names of companies owned by Jenny's targets. By seven however they were finally finished. The last of the details had been emailed to Emily's office, ready for search warrants, although some would unfortunately have to be sought first thing on Friday morning. A press conference was arranged for one o'clock the following day with the major arrests happening between seven and nine.
Just as Heather, and Sophie, were wondering about food, Helen came in through the door laden with bags. "Chinese, I hope you like it!"
"And in conclusion I'd like to thank everyone involved in this extensive investigation, especially Detective Inspector Keane and the many officers from other government departments who I can't name . Given that this is an ongoing investigation and legal action is pending, I'm afraid I can't take questions. Thank you."
The Assistant Commissioner and DI Emily Keane left the stage whilst journalists shouted questions, questions that were rather pointless.
An hour later the headline in the London Evening Standard changed to:
A series of statements by unattributed sources covered some of the background, although David Jones was eventually named as having provided immensely important assistance. This much was not new information for the criminal fraternity so was considered a safe matter to include. It also scotched any rumours that David was dead, but did nothing to help anyone locate the male accountant.
For Emily her work was almost complete. A separate department in the Metropolitan Police's New Scotland Yard, would take over the corruption operation and work eventually towards prosecutions. The internal corruption sections of several other police forces, surprised that they had been kept in the dark, now swung into gear by suspending their dodgy coppers.
During that morning, before the press conference, a large number of arrests were carried out across South East England. One of the most awkward was that of the Chairman of the Joint Intelligence Committee. Due to the legal status of Parliament the arrest could not take place there, the only solution was to arrest him before he reached his office. As it was, his driver was provided by the Met Police, but there was no way the driver could be briefed in advance as there was a small risk that operational security would be breached. The solution that evolved was to stop the vehicle on Westminster Bridge using two marked Police vehicles in a pincer movement.
It was pure co-incidence that several TV news crews were nearby at the time.
Commander Ken Bond plainly had cold feet well before his midday appointment with the Assistant Commissioner and, very soon after arriving at New Scotland Yard, was seen heading back out of the main door towards St James underground station. Unfortunately for him this had been anticipated and he was detained in the tube station's ticket hall, the only downside to this being that the ACC didn't get to make the arrest personally.
Heather and Sophie were back, alone, at the house in Redhill that afternoon. Jenny was finally taking charge of her team and Helen was keeping her head below a virtual parapet.
"Now, Sophie, it's been suggested we made ourselves scarce for a while."
"What do you fancy?"
"Cyprus?"
"Too many Russians."
"Eh?"
"Trust me on that."
"Okay, the Canaries or maybe Mallorca?"
"Too many Brits in the criminal fraternity."
"Malta?"
"Libyans."
"So which island would you suggest?"
"I reckon we can survive a week or two on the Scilly Isles. We'll take the A303 and A30 down to Newquay in Cornwall and fly from the airport there. I understand St Mary's is sunny right now, one advantage is that it's still in England, plus the island's chief copper, Sgt Taylor, is an old friend."
"Let's start packing!"
It felt strange heading into Central London on this Friday morning by herself but Heather knew this had to be done. She was on her way to Thames House, the home of MI5, for a meeting with her line manager Jennifer Osborne. For once the trains were running well and she was slightly ahead of schedule.
Security concerns for Heather had been reduced now that the major corruption operation had taken out all of the main players, at least those who were in the country. The Germans had picked up a few of their own and a couple of ours, proving that international liaison works.
The security review that had followed had meant today was the last day Sophie was allocated as Heather's Close Protection Officer. In practice, however, Sophie had her own meeting at New Scotland Yard today so they had agreed that Heather would go to Thames House on her own.
Autumn had truly arrived in the capital with leaves on the ground as Heather walked along The Victoria Embankment, what a change from their ten days in St Marys on the Scilly Isles followed by a few days in Cornwall before the long drive back to Redhill.
Heather walked up the steps at the front of Spook Central and pushed the outer doors open. She first had the problem of dropping off her weapon before going through the airlock gate to enter the building proper. Jenny was hosting this weekly meeting in the Financial Investigations section, but first there were some introductions.
"Everyone, for those who didn't know her before, this is Heather who helped crack the corruption case a few weeks ago."
There were a few "hello" and "well done" comments but one or two of the staff stayed silent.
"Heather, you've met David, Julie and Fiona before but Andy, Will and Val have joined us in the last few weeks."
"Hi everyone. I don't know what Jenny has in store for me yet but it looks like I'll be here most Fridays to liaise on whatever projects I've been given."
"Right, Heather, let's go and have a chat in my room."
Coffee was delivered before the door sealed, making certain their conversation was private. Heather pulled a few sheets out of a case and laid them on the desk.
"We'll come to those later, how was the break?"
"It was great, St Marys is a lovely island and Sophie had a few friends there. It was relaxing but I did find myself at a loose end, hence walking around whilst Sophie had a beer with Sgt Taylor. That proved to be useful."
"It was an interesting find. Anyway, where's this cottage?"
"Oh, it's lovely. It's in Redruth, near the North Coast. We get the keys in a week's time and BT are installing the fibre that week."
"Sounds good, but what's the arrangement with Sophie?"
"She's sort of resigning from the Met this morning and becoming a security consultant but will keep her rank and weapon as a reserve officer."
"How did she manage that?"
"It appears the Assistant Commissioner was under pressure to slim the unit down, as with all of the Met Police departments, but didn't want to lose skills permanently so he created a group of Specials who would only be needed for major ops so were free to work for themselves any other time."
"Rather like the Reserve scheme for the Armed Forces. Nice way around the problem of skills and experience being drained away, presumably she'll do training as well?"
"Yes, both top-up training for herself and weapons re-qualification plus helping with new recruits."
"What about the other times?"
"She'll be with me, employed by me as an assistant, whether it's in Redhill or Redruth."
They paused to drink their coffee, Heather nibbled a Hob Nob that had been provided.
"So, tell me about this find of yours?"
"As you know, it was quite by chance. I saw a report in the local paper about an investigation being ordered into a maritime supplies company, St Mary's Chandlers, because their books didn't balance for the 2013/2014 accounts. Their accountant was sacked and they were having trouble finding another one with the right skills on the island."
"So you invited yourself around?"
"Yes, and when I said I was looking to move somewhere near Newquay airport, they knew I could be at their warehouse a few days a week if necessary."
"What did you find?"
"They owned a boat which would do fishing and diving trips for tourists during the day but at night was running out to collect lobster pots, however they always used more diesel that they should have. The crew were also using fictitious identities, and were paid cash.
"Rather a strange setup for a chandlers?"
"The tourist trips are a common business in the South West and a good way of using a boat that's otherwise moored."
"What's the boat's official role?"
"A supplies run into Penzance for hazardous goods or anything else that can't go on the flights from Newquay. The ferry isn't always running so it's useful to have a backup."
"Who took you on?"
"The CEO, he's concerned that the taxman will investigate them before they have a chance to work out what's going on and balance the books. As you can see from the draft report it's still a work in progress."
Although Heather had emailed the report to Jenny a few days earlier she still picked it up to refresh herself.
"How long do you need?"
"We'll go back down there after the weekend so we can fly back to Newquay on Friday and I see myself spending up to another week after that before I have everything I need."
"So if HMRC were held back for two to three weeks that would help?"
"Yes."
"Now, what's your thoughts on this?"
"It's plainly a smuggling operation."
"Of what?"
"I can't be certain, the boat's big enough to carry something substantial so it could be arms, drugs, cash or human traffic?"
"Human traffic?"
"Yes, with all of the ports and airports now on constant alert, it's difficult to get someone high profile into the country without them being identified. What if they were dropped off by a larger boat that was heading up or down St George's Channel, or even into the English Channel and picked up by the Chandlers boat for ferrying to Penzance as a fake crew member."
"Okay, let's explore it further, have Devon and Cornwall Police picked up any strange folk who can't identify themselves?"
"Yes, but sometimes it's just a drunk Emit!"
"Emit?"
"Cornish for tourist, not in a kind way."
"Okay, see what you can find from the books whilst I organise some discrete surveillance, perhaps Sophie fancies a little work?"
"Her rates are apparently very good."
"We'll see about that!"
"Jenny, I'm a little concerned that not all of your team are happy to see me?"
"Technically it's your team too."
"Yes, technically, but you saw it when you introduced me?"
"You were responsible for some fallout, including the removal of my predecessor."
"Come on, you know that was designed to confuse the enemy."
"Yes, but they don't know that. They will not see Dave in this building and will assume he was rail-roaded out, plus you seem to know me too well."
"Oh well, and I suppose we can never tell them how wrong they are?"
"That's right."
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To be continued
Unaccounted Gains Books 3 & 4 are also available on Kindle
Comments
Thank you
for re-posting this. I read it the first time around, but it's good to read it again!