I wandered downstairs to find Yasmine and Jennifer looking at a road map.

“What’s up?”

“Look at this,” said Jennifer passing me her phone. A text message was there for everyone to read.

“Urgent. Position compromised as of 13.45. Evacuate. Urgent.”

“Do you have any idea as to what happened?”

Jennifer shook her head.
“None at all. All I know is there in the text which comes from my Commander. By my estimate, we have to leave inside the next twenty minutes.”

I thought for a second before replying. I remembered the map that I’d seen at the railway station. It was large enough to show all the ‘Little Trains of Wales’ and other tourist hot spots. All the major roads in the area were highlighted. There were not many routes in and out of this area.

“I’ll go south-west with Yasmine. We are boxed in by Dolgellau and Machynlleth. Once we get past them, we have a greater choice of route. It is going to be tight.”

“I agree. You need to get packed right now.”

“What about the two of you?”

“We can replace everything if needed. You, on the other hand, are carrying everything you own with you so you'd better get packing. Please try not to leave anything behind or any sign that we left in a hurry," said Jennifer.

“True. I’ll be ready in a few minutes.”

That was the signal for everyone to spring into action.

---

Our cars left the cottage together just over twelve minutes later. At the end of the road, we went in opposite directions. Yasmine and I turned right towards Tywyn while Jennifer took the back road towards Dolgellau. We all hoped that the warning had arrived in time.

I sat in the back with my head down. The rear windows were tinted making it harder to see who if anyone was travelling in the back. They’d both switched off their phones and wrapped them in kitchen foil just in case.

We’d arranged to meet late the following afternoon at the Service Area on the A1 at Grantham, Lincolnshire. What we did in the interim, was down to each of us and us alone. Radio silence was the order of the day except for the direst emergency.

Yasmine and I stayed that night at a B&B a few miles north of Chepstow. Yasmine spun a good tale about me being a witness at a trial in Reading. A flash of her Police Credentials was good enough for the landlady, a Mrs Williams. She was even persuaded to cook us something simple for dinner.

I retired to my room a little later to give a blister on my foot a little bit of first-aid.

My small but functional first-aid kit was at the bottom of my rucksack so I took the opportunity to fold everything properly as I took it out of the pack. Our hasty exit that afternoon had resulted in a certain amount of stuffing instead of packing properly.

I retrieved the kit and treated the blister that had sprung out of nowhere on my heel. As I was packing it all away, a small object fell out of the elasticated ‘crepe’ bandage that I used to treat sore ankles. Instinctively, I knew what it was. Suddenly, all sorts of things started to fall into place.

I put the object to one side and re-packed my rucksack before I went in search of Yasmine.

She was downstairs talking about policing to our host, Mrs Williams.

“I thought that you had turned in for the day? How’s the blister,” asked Yasmine.

“The foot will be fine but I found something rather more serious in my pack.”

I handed her the object.

“Is this what I think it is?”

“If you think that it is a tracking bug then yes.”
"That chip is a GPS device. I know because I have repaired a few crashed drones for friends in the past. One of them used to disable it because he lived under the flight path to Manchester Airport which is a restricted area for flying of any sort. I made sure that they were enabled when I returned them to him.”

“Then this is the source of the leak?”

“You got it in one Sergeant.”

She sank back into her chair.

“What’s the matter love?” asked Mrs Williams.

"The opposition has planted a bug on us. They have been tracking our every move for the past two days," replied Yasmine.

She stood up and let out a sigh.

“I’m sorry Mrs Williams, we are going to have to leave right now. Do you have somewhere that you can spend the night?”

“My sister is in Chepstow.”

“Good. We’ll drop you off.”

“Why?”

“These people can be violent. We don’t want anything to happen to you.”

“I’d better call her.”

“Please don’t. We'll drop you off and disappear into the night. That way, they can't track you down not that you have any idea where we will be heading other than over the bridge if you get what I mean?”

Mrs Williams was clearly not very happy with being told what to do by someone who could have been her granddaughter but she held back any complaint.
"I'd better pack an overnight bag," she eventually replied.

"Ten minutes max. Please," said Yasmine who seemed to have switched up several gears. She was very much alert and on the ball. I guessed that it was the adrenaline kicking in but for how long? She needed to rest and it was up to me to make sure that she did just that but where? That was the next big question to solve.

---

Twenty-five minutes later, we were crossing the River Severn on the old 1960’s bridge when I said,
“Shall I toss the bug? This is the perfect place.”

Yasmine shook her head. Her eyes were alive and focussed on the road ahead and behind.

“We stop at the second motorway services that we come upon and find a truck. One of those with curtain sides and if possible, empty.”

“I get you loud and clear. Which way are we going? M4 or M5?” I said as we went under some signs that reminded me that there was a big motorway junction just ahead.”

“M4. I think? What about you?”

“Sounds good to me. This is your operation. You are in charge.”

A brief smile appeared on her face.

---

Half an hour later, we pulled into the service area. It was close to eleven at night. There were a good number of lorries pulled up for the night with curtains around the cab windows. None of them would be moving anywhere until the morning or at least first light.

As we crossed the car park, I saw a driver wandering back to his vehicle. It was branded with the logo of a well-known international freight company. I checked the number plate. The ‘PL’ mark was all I needed to know.

“Lets’ try that one?”

I nonchalantly walked along the side of the vehicle as the driver was getting into the cab on the other side. I noticed a yellow fire extinguisher container. Perfect. I didn’t even break stride as I dropped the bug into the container. Perfect.

I met up with Yasmine and took her arm.
“Look pleased to see me.”

She took the hint and came close.

The truck that was carrying the bug moved off as we hugged each other. As it disappeared out of view, we both breathed a sigh of relief.

“What now?” I asked as we walked arm in arm back to the car.

“We need to get some sleep. We can stay here for a few hours. Then we can move on to the next service area.”

“What if the bad guys come looking for your car. It is in plain sight in the car park isn’t it.”

“Good point. Suggestions?”

“Get off the beaten track and stay out of sight. Something like a rural railway station car park not too far off the motorway perhaps?”

Yasmine laughed.
“That sounds perfect. There is a road map in the pocket behind the seat.”

“Yes, madame captain pilot!”

“Before you get any ideas, I was playing a role back there. I’m spoken for in case you have not forgotten?”

“I know. I’ve seen how the two of you look at each other. Good luck to both of you.”

---

Yasmine carried on driving east while I searched for a suitable place to park up for a few hours.

“There is a place near junction 12. Theale to be exact. It has a small station plus some office or business parks. That should do us for a few hours at least.”

“Sounds like a plan. How far?”

“About forty miles give or take a bit. The signage at the next junction should help. Junction 12 is the one for the west of Reading.”

“Good.”

We found a place to park up for a few hours. From the sighs coming from Yasmine, I could tell that she was tired. I wished that I could drive but it was her car and I’m not on the insurance so there was no point in even asking.

---

The noise of some diesel engines woke us both up. I looked at the dashboard clock. It read 06:15. The first passenger train of the day had arrived at the adjacent Theale station. We’d had about four hours sleep. Nowhere near enough but it would have to do… for now.

“Feeling better?” I asked as Yasmine rubbed the sleep from her eyes.

“Ugh!”
"I'm not much of a morning person."

“Then some coffee is called for, isn’t it?”

She shook her head.
“Tea. Strong Tea.”

I smiled.
“Ok, Reading Services is a few miles away. A quick dash for me to get some hot drinks while you fill up then we can be on our way.”

“Do you have a route in mind? I saw you looking at the map last night?”

“Yeah. M4 to Maidenhead then north to High Wycombe, Aylesbury and then Bedford before joining the A1.”

“Why not use the M25? It seems a lot more direct.”

"I used to have the radio on when I was a Window Cleaner. The daily reports of traffic jams on the M4 and M25 have put me off going that way during the week for life. The other way is a lot slower but I'm sure that there will be places we can stop to get something to eat. Besides, we aren't due to meet Jennifer until four this afternoon are we.”

“I’d sort of forgotten it was that late.”

She started the car and pulled away from our resting place.
“You are navigator in chief. I’m relying on you for this.”

“I’ll try not to lead us astray,” I replied half-jokingly.

---

We arrived at Grantham Services half an hour early. There was no sign of Jennifer's car so we went inside in search of something to eat and drink. I wasn't that comfortable with the place. Compared to the M4 Services that we'd visited the previous night, this was very, very quiet indeed. My unease was dispelled by the arrival of two tour busses. Safety in numbers and all that seemed to be a good idea at the moment.

When we emerged, there was a large black Jaguar parked right next to Yasmine’s car. For a moment, I was on edge as one of the doors opened and Jennifer emerged. I felt Yasmine relax.

“You made it then,” said Jennifer.

“We arrived half an hour ago and went in search of some refreshment.”

“Good trip?”

Our faces told a different story.
“I found a tracking bug in my first-aid kit. That’s how they knew where we were.”

This shocked Jennifer. Her initial reaction was very much out of kilter for her but she soon recovered her composure.
“Where is it now? You got rid of it I hope?”

"We did get rid of it. I transferred it to an HGV that had Polish number plates. It is probably at Dover or somewhere in foreign parts right now. I don't know and frankly, I don't care."

“Good for you. Do you know how it got there?” asked Jennifer.

“I can only think that it was when I was working at the Chicken Farm. One day, I went with the manager on an egg delivery. He’d put his shoulder out playing Rugby that weekend so I did all the carrying. I left my rucksack in the farm office all day.”

“What made you look in the kit in the first place?”

“I was wearing the wrong socks for my walk yesterday and paid for that with a blister on my heel. I have some medication for blisters in the kit. The bug was hidden in an elasticated bandage. It fell out as I was re-packing the kit.”

Jennifer thought for a moment.
“You did the right thing although our tech people would have loved to get their hands on it.”

Then she smiled.
“There is someone I want to introduce you to.”

Without waiting for our reaction, she opened the rear door of the car. A man stepped out. Right away, I saw a family resemblance between him and Jennifer.

“This is my Father, Assistant Chief Constable, David Hawkes.”

His coat fell open to reveal a Police uniform.

“Pleased to meet you both. I was at a conference in Norwich when my daughter called. Her car is in Peterborough being examined by the forensic team. She was worried about her car being bugged but from what I heard from you just now, the source of the problem had been identified.”

"Pleased to meet you, Sir," said Yasmine.

“Please call me David. Jennifer has told me all about the two of you. I wish you both every happiness but you do need to decide who is going to remain in the force.”

I saw Yasmine visibly relax.

David turned to me.
“I’ve heard a lot about you Craig. You do seem to have had a lot of bad luck in recent times. From what my daughter has said, things are coming to a head. I've seen many, many cases over my career where someone totally innocent and largely unconnected to a case is royally shafted by it. It seems that you are pretty resilient so I can only hope that you come out of this in a better position than you are right now."

Before I could answer, a marked Police Car drew up alongside us. A Sergeant and a Constable got out.

“Sir! Inspector Griffiths asked us to collect a car for forensic examination.”

“Ah yes Sergeant,” said the ACC.

He turned to Yasmine.
“Detective Constable, if you and Craig could remove your things from your car, these officers will take it for examination. You don’t want to be driving around with people tracking you, now do you. Your car should be returned to you in the next two days along with the DCI’s vehicle.”

I was amazed at how he’d made it all so impersonal and official. The ability to switch like that was impressive.

Yasmine and I removed our things from her car and loaded them into the Jaguar. She gave the keys to the uniformed Constable. After some formalities, her car and the patrol car drove off.

The four of us got into the Jaguar with Jennifer at the wheel. We left the service area and headed north on the A1. I assumed that we were heading to York but when we passed the A64 turning for Yorvik, I began to get worried.

“Where are we going?” I asked quietly.

“Quebec,” said the ACC.

“Eh? That’s in Canada…”
I heard Jennifer chuckle from the front of the car. She looked across at her father.

“There is a small hamlet in County Durham called Quebec. Less than a mile away is a place called Greenland. My home is between the two. I’m offering the three of you a safe place to stay until this case moves to the next phase,” said David.

“What about your wife?” I asked having seen a wedding ring on his finger.

“Shirley is in total agreement. She’s not Jennifer’s Mother. She and I divorced almost twenty years ago. Pressures of the job and all that but they get along fine.”

“Dad!” said Jennifer from the driver’s seat.

“Ok, ok. It was Jennifer who set me up on a blind date with Shirley about five years ago.”

I began to see a lot of him in Jennifer.

---

Shirley was waiting for us when we arrived. Shirley seemed a very down to earth sort of woman and we were made very welcome. She certainly didn’t seem the type to be the wife of an Assistant Chief Constable but who was I to make judgements about that sort of thing eh?

I slept very well that night. After a night in the car, a nice bed was most welcome especially after the frankly excellent meal that Shirley served up.

Shirley left the three of us alone after Breakfast. David had left much earlier to attend a meeting in Newcastle. Shirley volunteered at a local Hospice. It turned out that she was a former nurse so it all seemed to fit together.

“What do we do now?” I asked after we’d cleared the dishes away.

Jennifer looked at Yasmine who replied with a small nod.

“We have a proposition for you.”

I let out an involuntary sigh.

Jennifer laughed.

“A case of ‘been there, done that and paid the price’ eh?”

“Something like that.”

“This proposal is a little bit different. Well… we hope so.”

I sat down at the table and waited. Yasmine came and sat beside me.

"As you know, we are a couple. I'm going to give up the job and take up a position in industry. There are some good jobs for people with qualifications in Criminology and experience in the Police, said Yasmine."

“So? Where do I fit in?”

“We’d like you to come and live with us and be our housekeeper.”

“Eh? Why me?”

Jennifer smiled at Yasmine who said,
“Then you can be the real you.”

“The real me? What the hell does that mean?”

“Didn’t you say that you used to dress up in your wife’s clothes at home? Well, you can be that person full time. Live the dream.”

“W… Why? Why are you doing this to me? Don’t you have a frigging clue what it is like to have been born in the wrong body? No, you don’t. You can’t.”

Jennifer sat down on the other side of me. I was hemmed in. My last avenue of escape had been cut off.

“Please… both of you just listen.”

I think my directness temporarily stunned them. Good!

“I didn’t dress in my wife’s clothes for some sort of kick or thrill or even to jack off. I should have been born a woman. I’ve known that since I was five. My first day at school when Marty Jones called me a cissy just because I didn’t want to take part in their pissing up the wall contest. That label stuck until I was eleven when that very same Marty Jones scragged me in front of the whole school to prove that I was wearing knickers. I wasn't but the deed was done. Then when I was sixteen, my parents went off to a wedding leaving me alone. I took the opportunity to dress up for the weekend. Then there was a major gas leak and we had to evacuate. I had to go out of the house fully dressed. Who should I meet in the street but one numpty called Marty Jones. He tried to pick me up until he saw who I was. The rest of my time at school was horrific until our last day when I kicked him hard right in the balls as my way of saying thanks for the horror stories. However, I truly never lived down my now very public reputation as a gay cissy so I moved away and hoped that the urge to dress would go away. It did but only for a while. Well… until I was married. That was my fatal mistake. How could I know that my bitch of a wife… sorry not my legal wife but the woman I had thought that I married, had installed spy cameras all over the house. Being thrown out while dressed was the final straw. If you think that I’m going to dress up only to be exposed once again? Never in a month of Sundays will I fall into that trap again.”

There was silence in the room.
“If you will excuse me, I have a rucksack to pack. I’ll be on my way in a few minutes. Please give my thanks for the hospitality to your parents.”

I ran upstairs to my room whereupon I burst into tears.

[to be continued]