UG2:Spying By Numbers Part 13 Christmas Is Cancelled Final Part

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

During a previous meeting, at the Security Service, in late November, the suggestion was that Heather and Sophie hand back the Redhill house given how little time they were spending in the London area.

However, in early December one of Duran Kelmendi's associates, Alban Berisha, had been found in the UK. A British woman, Tara Smart, had been identified arriving in the UK with Berisha along with cash and drugs. Both had been arrested.

This was potentially excellent intelligence for the terrorism investigation Detective Inspector Kevin Edmunds was leading, but Berisha was apparently saying nothing and Kelmendi was still missing.

The belief was that Berisha was the money man as he was carrying a substantial quantity of Euros plus a commercial quantity of cocaine, whereas Kelmendi was an explosives expert.

Heather was sat in one of the secure meeting rooms in Thames House, a few days before Christmas, waiting for things to get going. This meeting had been postponed from the previous Friday and Jenny wasn't yet ready to start, several hours late.

She'd spent most of the previous fortnight in and around London attending meetings but this was the first time she and Jenny had sat down together for several weeks.

The previous evening had been hard as Heather had stayed at the Redhill house on her own, Sophie having already returned to Cornwall as she had a Monday meeting of her own. Right now Heather was planning to take the sleeper service from London's Paddington station.

Finally Jenny arrived and closed the door.

"Jenny, what can you tell me?"

"As you know, there's nothing in Tara Smart's accounts to indicate a close involvement but her husband is a banker, currently resident in Thurso. His finances, and that of his daughter are complex to say the least, both millionaires. Tara had started divorce proceedings recently so may be angling for cash. She's been bailed and Berisha is remanded to Belmarsh Prison."

"There's not much here that makes sense, is Tara Smart aware of what he's up to?"

"She's not admitted to anything other than being a fool, he had given her an Italian name when they met, at her hotel in Lausanne so it looks like she was being used."

"Okay, is there an update about the man Sophie saw in Carlyon Bay?" Fortunately one photo of the man was good enough to be enhanced.

"We still don't have a name for him, his photo has been distributed to all airports but it's unknown if we'll see him again or ever put a name to him, although we've asked our European counterparts to help."

"Right, did anything come of the boat, the Ventureur?"

"As you already know, it was leased using forged documents. It was found moored outside St Helier two mornings later, there was no-one on board and the RIB was missing. That turned up on a beach on Sark a few days later but the boat and the RIB were clean."

"Lots of dead ends at the moment."

"Quite, I wish there was something here I could have you go through?"

"What about Richard Smart's accounts?"

"Good luck, I'd like you to see what you can find there. His accounts are complex, as I said, including investments in multiple companies and funds. Some of his worth recently passed to his son who is now his daughter."

"Oh, small world?"

"That's what I thought. I'll have my team put a package together and email it to you."

"Okay."

Suddenly an alarm rang, Jenny explained quickly as she went to exit the room.

"That's the major incident alarm, let's get to my desk."

She logged in and access her emails.
 

To: All Staff
From: Major Incident Team
Date: 22 Dec 2014 15:50UTC
Subject: NATS London & Maastrict targeted

At 1530 a co-ordinated attack took place on the National Air Traffic Control Centre at Fareham and the European centre at Maastrict. All communications and power were lost following explosions near the perimeter and at power supply distribution nodes nearby. The emergency generators have also failed, both centres are offline.

The assailants have not been identified as yet and the reason for the attacks has not been established.

All western European flights are disrupted.

*** ends ***

 
Jenny grabbed her phone and called DI Kevin Edmunds at the Counter Terrorism Unit but DI Emily Keane answered his phone.

"Hello?"

"Hi Emily, we've just heard and I was trying to get hold of DI Edmunds."

"It's manic here, Kevin's on his way to Fareham and I'm booked on Eurostar to Maastrict via Brussels in an hour, assuming they’ll still be running."

"Okay, I'll leave you to it."

"Thanks, bye."

"Jenny, is there anything I can do?"

"Not really, I suggest you get yourself to Cornwall immediately as it's possible public transport will be disrupted next."

"Okay, I'll go straight to Paddington."

It was a tired Heather who arrived in Redruth just before ten that night. She was travelling light, her overnight bag was still sitting in the Redhill house, so she only had her shoulder bag. She had overheard a few fellow passengers complaining that they were booked to fly into Newquay and had been forced to take the train - maybe they would have preferred to be stuck on a coach in a jam on the M4 or M5 instead?

The media were now reporting that some flights would resume late on Tuesday morning, the twenty-third, but would initially be using the separate military air traffic system and manually scheduling the planes, that meant the system could only cope with a third of the normal traffic. That was going to ruin several folks' plans for the festive period, undoubtedly,

Sophie was waiting at the station.

"Come on, let's get indoors."

The following morning they joined the hordes doing the main shopping raid for Christmas, given that most shops were closed on the twenty-fifth and the twenty-sixth. Shopping just before Christmas is an activity best avoided if possible, as was confirmed when they observed several scrummages inside Redruth's Tesco store.

Finally they could sit down and relax, but not before the secure phone rang upstairs. Sophie was closest so went up, whilst Heather went to put the kettle on.

"Hello?"

"Ah, DS Grieve? This is Inspector Willis."

Bob Willis now fully understood the girls' roles, and had been cleared by Jenny and Emily to be their liaison with Devon and Cornwall Constabulary. This meant using the secure phone for anything that was work-related.

"Good afternoon Bob, what can I do for you?"

"It concerns your favourite local journalist, Vic Harris."

"Right, what did the editor say?"

"The story he's trying to write on the pair of you has been spiked and it seems he's been in contact with Albert Smythe."

"That toad, I bet he wanted to get at us?"

"That was the information I saw.

"You'd have thought he learned his lesson trying to get the Algerian to do his dirty work?"

"Quite. Anyway, I'm told unofficially that an investigation into Vic Harris is about to start but it's not down to anything you've provided and has been flagged up by his internet provider. I never told you, obviously."

"Oh, that doesn't sound good."

"What doesn't sound good?"

"Oh dear, nothing!" They both laughed.

"What's the Cornish aspect of the air traffic terrorism, Bob?"

"Not much, Special Branch are at Newquay Airport for the few small aircraft and helicopters still flying and they may be in Penzance until tomorrow but everything's closed on Thursday so it's not really having much effect down here. What's your take?"

"Well, my recent posting is Counter Terrorism but this is not an easy one for me to evaluate. I don't have access to much intelligence at the moment. I did hear intel about the plot about three months ago but the information was very vague and didn’t refer to the Air Traffic Control Centres."

"That explains why virtually no-one knew about it in advance, Special Branch were just told to be extra vigilant at the ports and airports - the ones that they attend anyway, we had uniformed paying more attention to the small harbours but that really means a visit once a week instead of once a month, as you know."

"Yeah, one huge coastline and a limited number of officers on duty at any time."

***

Mid afternoon the following day, Christmas Eve, Bob Willis called again.

"Just to let you know, Vic Harris has been lifted by officers investigating something quite vile, he's going to the custody suite at Plymouth for a few days so I guess his Christmas is ruined. Merry Christmas to both of you."

Neither Heather nor Sophie would normally have wished ill against an individual, although there were plainly a few where the dislike was mutual all year round.

Having said that, t'was the season of good will so Sophie resolved to allow the justice system play out the Vic Harris case and not become emotionally involved. She pondered unplugging the secure phone but knew that would be noticed by personnel in London so parked the thought out of harm's way.

They made a simple evening meal using locally caught fish, Redruth is under five miles from the North Cornish Coast and ten miles from the southern coast, with most of the coastal villages having harbours and small fishing fleets.

The rest of Christmas Eve was peaceful but by seven the pair were bored, evening telly wasn't very inviting and most of the chores were done. Thought was then given to pulling a jigsaw out of a cupboard but that would have occupied the coffee table for several days, not sensible right now even though visitors were not expected.

The decision was taken to go out for a walk, the paths were dry with no sign of impending snow and the temperature was sitting several degrees above freezing point, regardless of which scale you used. It was however, cool enough to warrant gloves and hats.

Outside the cottage they looked up and down the road but nothing was moving, not even the trees. All they could hear was the rumble of a few cars some distance away. Sophie held out her gloved and, which Heather gladly accepted - then they set off.

The town was so peaceful, even Malek Kebabs was closed, although the family could be seen cleaning up inside. Ahmed Malek waved at them through the large window.

The girls had refused to press charges against the boy, although he had been cautioned by the Police by admitting a public order offence. His statement, however, enabled Albert Smythe to be investigated.

He was now grateful to the girls for not compounding his idiocy with a criminal record, which could have affected his college course.

Ahmed was now fairly sure that Heather and Sophie were secret police, or similar, so wanted to stay friendly. That included passing on snippets of wrong-doings in the town. Most of this was harmless tittle-tattle but a few weeks earlier something more serious was mentioned.

He signalled to speak to Sophie when she was coming out of the post office and in French explained he knew of a group of Chechens who were staying on a farm a few miles out of town. Ahmed had delivered several take-away orders to the farm in recent days and did not like what he'd seen.

Sophie had contacted Inspector Bob Willis, who had immediately spoken to Special Branch. Meanwhile Jenny and Emily were informed, causing alarm bells in their London offices. Unfortunately, by the time the raiding team was put together, the Chechens had left. Sniffer dogs did, however, find traces of explosives and ammunition but there were no fingerprints anywhere.

Ahmed was devastated that the group had been missed, if only he'd told the girls after the second kebab delivery not the third? What he hadn't expected was Special Branch's request for him to contact them directly but he'd refused, that was a guaranteed way to put a marker on his back. He preferred the alternative, no-one would believe the two nice ladies were really secret police.

They continued their walk, past a few of the pubs which were now filling up with revellers, live music was coming from many. So there was no-one on the streets but plenty were in the pubs, nothing much changes in England, or Kernow for that matter.

They were back indoors a little after eight having seen, waved at or spoken to no more than six people, including Ahmed. This suited both of them perfectly. They had now been accepted in the town as full residents, albeit from 'that there London' as it is oft referred to. Both were on good terms with those storekeepers at the shops they frequented, the post office staff, the doctor's surgery and even the local council office.

Sophie had finally gotten around to visit Dr Wilson and received a check-up, with an invite to return a year later unless something came up in the meanwhile. It turned out she wasn't on the pill and declined it as quite unnecessary.

The girls didn't entertain visitors very often but sensibly weren't close enough to anyone locally to want to invite a dinner guest around. So far as the near neighbours were concerned, so long as the cottage wasn't a four-month-a-year holiday home and the occupants said "hello" every now and again, then they were acceptable, just acceptable.

After a smallish glass of mulled wine they turned in for the night.

***

"Merry Christmas darling."

"Hmmmmm."

It seemed that neither of them wanted to get up on Christmas morning. Unfortunately any plans involving staying in bed until lunchtime were thwarted when Sophie's mobile phone rang. She took the call with her to the kitchen.

"Oh, hi Mum, Merry Christmas to you."

This was a pretty standard conversation except Sophie and her mum didn't normally get on so didn't often speak.

"No, I'm not in London so I can't pop round to see you."

Clearly it had been some time.

"The West Country, on an assignment and I'm sorry but I can't say what it is or exactly where I am."

It was at this point that the old arguments resurfaced; her mother had never approved of her daughter joining the Metropolitan Police and then being placed on duties that couldn't be discussed. It hadn't mattered how often she was asked, most of Sophie's work couldn't go home with her, causing a wedge between her and her mother leading to Sophie moving out to her own flat eventually.

Heather could hear one side of the conversation as she wrapped a dressing gown around herself before going over to the dressing table for her morning pills; one little yellow birth control tablet and one red iron and multi-vitamin booster. She made it downstairs as Sophie finished her call.

"Tough call?"

"Yes, but at least she's still there."

Heather had no close family left, and didn't have contact details for her wider family that she was aware of. Unfortunately she wouldn't be able to contact them in any case as it would blow her working identity. Maybe in the future she could be Gail again, but would never be the David her parents had named her.

By now the kettle had boiled and the day proper was kick started by a heavy slug of caffeine. Sophie went up to shower whilst Heather started preparations for the Christmas dinner, which would be enjoyed mid afternoon, just after the Queen's Speech. Once Sophie was dressed they swapped places and Heather was able to preen herself for the day, for their special day.

They had both gone for simple frocks although their lingerie was pleasantly naughty - the result of a shared visit to an intimate apparel store in Croydon a week earlier. Spending time in or near London did have its' uses occasionally.

Other gifts included jewellery and a pair of matching eternity rings, suitably engraved.

"I love you." Words weren't really necessary but were said regardless, even if their eyes conveyed the same message. The emotion was toasted with a glass of sparkling wine; the bottle had been opened slightly earlier in the day than would normally be acceptable although Heather insisted it could also be used for the cooking, if it survived long enough.

The rest of the day played out much as it would in many other households across the UK, especially the ones without children to care for and occupy. There was way too much food at dinnertime but the residue would be used the following day so waste was minimal.

They settled down to watch a film, dozing off on the sofa within the first half hour.

They both woke with a start and slightly confused. The reason for their awakening was that a phone was ringing upstairs, their secure phone.

You could almost guarantee that it wouldn't be someone with good news or season's greetings.
 

***
 
They had woken with a start, realising their secure phone was ringing upstairs. If it someone was calling on Christmas Day then there had to be a good reason, a very good reason, there was an ordinary phone in the lounge for social calls.

Heather was the first one up, but had to open the security door, answer the phone and open the safe to find the key.

"Ruddy Christmas Day! Hello? Just a mo, inserting the key."

After a pause and the obligatory beep the line was secured.

"Merry Christmas to you too. It's Kevin Edmunds."

"Hello Kevin, how can we help you?"

"Look, I'm sorry about calling today but Tara Smart has gone missing. We think she's in hiding and at risk."

"That doesn't sound too good."

"It isn't. Have you had a look at those accounts yet? There might be something in them that could help."

"Only the submitted company reports for this year and the main current accounts so far."

"Anything relevant?"

"Tara appears to have been using a Swiss account over here that's in joint names with Richard Smart, plus payments for her Lausanne hotel have finished. The Swiss account was last used on the twenty third near London Bridge station."

"So she could have gone almost anywhere. The rest of her finances were frozen when she was arrested, we didn't know about that Swiss account at the time. Anyway, it doesn't look as if she would go back to that hotel - even if she could - considering it's Christmas and with all the travel mayhem. We also have her passport, obviously."

"If she's in hiding, would the rest of the family be in danger? Tara obviously knows more than she's saying so if they can't get at Tara to silence her then they'll target the others."

"Wait a moment, someone's waving a fax at me."

He went away from his phone so Heather brought Sophie, who had walked into the office, up to date.

"Heather, we've just had a report that ties in with this, apparently there was an abduction attempt last night on the daughter, the assailant was Albanian or Kosovan and is in custody."

"I get the feeling the father and daughter are not involved in the terrorist acts, in any way."

"I'd have to agree, that's my gut feeling too. Anyway, something worrying is going on in Thurso so I'm heading up to Scotland in the morning, it's possible that Kelmendi is targeting the rest of the Smart family."

"Okay, if there's anything we can do, let us know."

"Will do, but be careful as Kelmendi could have been given your names and might equally be back in Cornwall."

"Thanks for the warning."

"Bye."

Heather pulled the security key from the phone so it could be returned to the safe but then removed her weapon and a spare magazine at the same time, she brought Sophie fully up to speed.

"Great, so much for a quiet Christmas."

"I know but we'll have to raise our alert level to amber and do things by the book."

"Yeah."

"I'll send the control room an email, copied to Jenny."

"I'll check the locks and make sure all the cameras and perimeter alarms are active."

The new procedure had been brought in after the last alarm activation, although that itself wasn't the reason. No, some of Jenny's superiors had insisted there was a full review given that the girls were a long way from specialist help, even the nearest armed response police vehicle could be an hour or more away, across the border in Devon.

So, under the revised regime, they were to review and evaluate new information, decide whether the threat warranted a change in alert level, and pass this up the line. Amber meant locking themselves in until the threat was diminished, not the worst situation to endure on Christmas Day. A red alert, on the other hand, would imply a credible threat to their home and required an immediate evacuation – they were thankful that wasn't, as yet, required.

The tasks took ten minutes to achieve, after which Heather locked the office and met Sophie downstairs. Neither was hungry but equally neither should now consume any more alcohol in case of evacuation. One of the issues that had concerned them during the security review was whether to inform the local police.

The problem there was that any information leading to amber alert might be based on intelligence that couldn't be passed on to anyone with a security clearance below a suitable level.

A few changes that had been made following the security review concerned where their cars were parked and how to reach them in case of evacuation, the instruction that followed a red alert. In common with most towns in the UK, especially those built a century or two ago, is that the only parking is normally on the street.

One of their vehicles was therefore parked outside, or nearby. There's no automatic legal right to a parking space for able-bodied citizens so you take the closest space available, even if that's at the far end of the road, or several streets away.

What was discovered during the review was an unused private garage, accessible from the lane that ran behind the cottage. This was acquired by the Security Service, which then funded the installation of a gate out of the garden. Ironically, Jimmy Ruddle's team had originally removed the gate, declaring it a security risk.

Within a week of the review they had a secondary evacuation route through the garden, the security system had been extended to include the garage but was prone to triggers by the local feline population walking across the roof. Cats also managed to get into the garden, then complained loudly they couldn't get out - until an automatic garden sprinkler was activated.

As it was there was nothing to disturb the girls sleep, except themselves.

***

Boxing Day, Friday, started with rain beating against the windows, waking Heather just after seven in the morning. She threw on a gown and padded in her slippers down to the kitchen, turning up the heating as she did.

She made two cups of tea and took them up to the bedroom, where Sophie had rolled herself fully in the duvet and was fast asleep. Heather abandoned her plan to sit in bed with her tea and a magazine so took a long shower instead. Back out of there, nearly half an hour later, she found Sophie snoring contently. Heather stood at the foot of the bed and dragged the duvet suddenly away.

A few hours later, after the bedroom version of WWIII had ended with a truce, and a good deal of tickling, they both made it downstairs refreshed and dressed. It was still raining heavily.

Looking out of the front windows Heather could see the rivulets of rain water becoming streams and threatening to overwhelm the street drainage. Within an hour the entire roadway was a river, strong enough to knock some walkers off their feet. Cars were a different issue but the stupid ones insisted on travelling at their normal speed through the flood water, causing a wake from both the front and rear wheels. The excess water was being driven towards front doors along the road.

The girls were fairly sure their door would keep the water out as it had been replaced when they bought the place, the original didn't have 3mm of steel embedded in the door, behind a kevlar panel, and had been made specifically for that doorway. From the outside it didn't look out of place, but it did its job perfectly.

Whilst keeping an eye on the weather, the girls prepared the Boxing Day lunch, using the cold cuts from the previous day plus hot potatoes and a salad. The tatties were just cooked when there was a series of very bright flashes and thunderclaps.

Along with the third flash, there was a loud bang from the far end of the road. The power went off.

"Sounds like the electricity substation was hit." Sophie was quite matter-of-fact.

"So, what do we do now?"

"Are the spuds done?"

"Yes."

"Then I'll get some plates and we'll have lunch."

Without the lights it was quite dull in the kitchen so they ate in the lounge with lap trays, something Heather wasn't usually keen on. Once again they stayed off the wine, but enjoyed a fruit punch with a lemonade top.

Questions waited until after the plates were cleared and desserts were considered, then dismissed.

"Sophie, what about our security system?"

"There's a battery backup that should be good for twelve hours."

"But will the power be back on in time?"

"Stop worrying, I'm sure the electricity company knows by now that the power is off here, as well as spook-central probably."

At that moment there was a loud knocking on the door, Sophie went to the spy hole before unlocking and opening the door.

"Hello Miss, we're about to put the power back on, can you make sure everything's off please?"

"Okay, thanks."

She quickly closed and relocked the door.

"There, nothing to worry about."

The lights came back on a minute later but within sixty seconds there was a huge explosion from a few streets away. Sophie grabbed her all-weather coat and bag, dropping her weapon in her bag."

"Wait here."

"What about the amber alert?"

"Just wait here, kill all the lights and don't let anyone in."

Now Heather was worried.

Over the next hour a series of sirens were heard, coming from many directions, the blue lights being reflected off the rain water. The storm was now abating but as the clouds cleared the temperature started to drop rapidly.

Heather waited as long as she dared then, finally, pulled on a warm coat, hat and scarf and put her weapon in a shoulder bag. Lastly, she pulled on a pair of sensible boots and walked towards the front door, finding Sophie wiping her feet on the doormat.

"Where do you think you were going?"

"To see what was going on."

"You were told to stay here."

"And that didn't apply to you?"

"I'm still a police officer and that was an emergency, I couldn't have been responsible for you out there and you would have been a hindrance to the rescue services. Anyway, forensics are there now and have taken control of the scene."

"Thanks very much," Heather replied sarcastically, "so you break the amber alert to play International Rescue?"

"No, and if you calm down and get out of that gear I'll tell you what just happened."

Sophie, sensibly, went into the kitchen and put the kettle on the boil whilst she waited for Heather.

"I'll make us some tea, I’m cold and you’re stressed."

They sat down a few minutes later. "I'm sorry, Sophie, I didn't think."

"Look, we all make mistakes, but this could have been worst, much worst than it was."

"So, what was it?"

"I believe there was a bomb behind the kebab shop, hidden in one of the waste bins. Malek had apparently thrown a rubbish sack in there once the lights were back on and the bomb was triggered."

"Oh no, how is he?"

"No major injuries as he'd tossed the bag in from a good distance away, behind one of the other bins - apparently he was already going back inside when the blast went off, so he was quite shielded but he was still knocked off his feet and hit the wall."

"Will be be okay?"

"Probably, he's being taken to Treliske Hospital in case of concussion and internal injuries, the paramedics don't want to take any risks."

"Anyone else hurt?"

"His mother was upstairs and was hit by broken glass in the bathroom, it overlooks the back. She's going to hospital as well but doesn't speak English or French, only Maghrebi Arabic, so Malek has to interpret for her."

"Who do you suspect?"

Sophie took her phone out of her bag and showed Heather the picture of Chechen graffiti.

"Oh, bugger."

***

The photo was emailed to the Security Service duty office. Heather put the key in the side of the secure phone just in case. It rang a minute later.

"Miss Young?"

"Is that Bob?"

"It is, I've just been dragged away from a family get-together but I'm not blaming you, it was mostly the in-laws and out-laws and I wanted to get away!"

"Glad we could help, but it's not our show tonight."

"Really? The officers on the ground reported back that a DS Grieve was on the scene suspiciously quickly and was able to communicate with the lad at the kebab shop. I know she speaks French but the local officers didn't know and thought it was Arabic, idiots. Anyway, they referred it to HQ, which meant Devon & Cornwall Special Branch are now involved, no doubt one of them is on their way to the scene."

"More idiots on the case then!"

"Come on, I work with those idiots sometimes!"

"Is that a recommendation?"

"Have you been on the juice, Heather?"

"Not yet, will explain why not when you finish your tale."

"Not pregnant then?"

"Get on with it!"

"I think I'll go back to the in-laws inane chat, it made more sense!"

"Why don't you get in a car and come here, we'll do some tea for you, standard Boxing Day stuff."

"That sounds like an offer, and it gets me out of the office."

"We'll expect you here in half an hour then, please don't let SB know!"

"I'll do my best!"

Heather enjoyed that call, but what was going on? She recounted the conversation to Sophie.

"Bloody hell, those two from traffic had never been to a terrorist incident before, had no idea about Chechenya, didn't know the this area as they normally work Exeter or the M5, and are frightened of anyone who doesn't speak English. They wouldn't survive in London at all."

"So what did you do?"

"I took over as senior officer on the scene, they didn't like that either so stick sexist onto their list of faults. After it was under control, they decided to refer me to SB, we'll see about that. I think I'll have them busted to office duties pending a disciplinary for insubordination!"

"Look, Bob Willis is on his way over and he's staying for tea. We'll ask him to sort out SB and those two idiotic traffic officers."

Sophie grabbed her laptop and walked downstairs to start work on her report whilst Heather made a note of the phone call before locking up the office.

There was a banging on the door, Sophie hooked the door chain before opening it.

"I'm DC Garston," he held up a warrant, "are you Miss Grieve?" He was very obviously a Special Branch officer, even if he hadn't actually said so.

"No, I'm DS Grieve of SO15."

"SO15?"

"How long have you been out of short trousers? SO15 is the Counter Terrorism Unit at NSY. Now, what do you want?"

"I want to question you about your involvement in the Kebab House bombing incident and interfering at a crime scene."

She laughed, "I don't know what you've been told but I was the most qualified person there, I'm also senior to you in every way conceivable. I'll tell you what, you can read my report once we decide you’re cleared to see it.”

"If you won't give me a straight answer then I would like you to come with me now."

"Look, I'll be gentle, piss off. I'm expecting DI Willis from Truro shortly; my report will be copied to him and offices you've never heard of once I have time to finish it."

"I'll be back with backup and a warrant shortly."

"Great idea, but you won't get one."

"And why not?"

"My partner has friends in very strange places. Now, be a good boy and go home."

She shut the door firmly.

Speaking to no-one in particular, "don't the regional SB units get any training these days?"

It was another fifteen minutes and a cup of tea later before DI Bob Willis arrived, knocking gently on the street door. It was now dark outside and fast approaching five o'clock.

"Come in, did you drive yourself?"

"No, I had a driver but I sent her back."

"Good, you can have a glass of wine with the meal."

"I'm not sure about that, I'm on duty."

"Were you called in?"

"Yes."

"So not scheduled hours, then. Why don't you conclude your enquiries at about eighteen hundred hours and I'll pour you a glass of vino then, I'll time it so we can eat soon after. That'll give you an hour or so. One of us can run you home."

"Very kind, but why aren't you drinking?"

Heather explained their Amber Alert status and the reasoning behind it. They touched on the wider issues regarding Kelmendi's location and the Scottish connection before moving onto the presumed Chechen bombing of the kebab shop. Finally Sophie told him about SB's visit.

"Christ, they need a course in public relations, don't they?"

"A bit more than that; we've encountered them before and they disappoint every time."

"Can I use your phone to call their office?"

"Sure, we'll let you into our inner sanctum."
 

***
 
"Thanks very much for the meal, that DC Garston should be here shortly to run me home, and I promise I'll have those two officers on a training course in the new year."

"Cheers Bob."

Once Bob Willis was safely on his way home the two girls sat on the couch and had a cuddle.

"Sophie, we'll have to continue this alert, won't we?"

"It looks like that, can you get online and put a food order in for delivery on Saturday?"

"Sure."
 

***
 
"It looks icy this morning."

Sophie was looking out of the window whilst Heather grabbed the duvet wrapping it around herself and shrugged off the morning.

"I don't care, it's too cold to think let alone do anything."

"Heather, you're a wimp!"

"No, a realist!"

"OK, you asked for it." Sophie grabbed the duvet and dragged it off the bed but didn't leave it there. She gathered it up and carried it away down the stairs, towards the kitchen.

"Bitch, bitch, bitch!"

Sophie shrugged off the insults as she stripped the duvet cover before stuffing it into the washing machine. There was already sufficient in there so that the machine could be started almost immediately, with the appropriate detergents of course.

"Bring that back," shouted Heather for the third time.

"Too late, strip the rest of the bed and bring it down here."

"It's not right, I hate you!"

Thankfully Sophie was decent when the Tesco delivery van arrived but Heather, wrapped in a towelling dressing gown and still laying on her bed, trying valiantly to make a point. Quite why, was beyond sensible thinking.

Sophie stowed the shopping whilst her lover finally headed to the shower. They had argued over professional matters of late but there were an increasing number of relationship issues brewing. Heather had tried to take the high ground when they first moved to the Redhill house but things had changed.

What didn't help was that Heather had very little to occupy herself, professionally that is, whilst Sophie was either involved in incidents or writing reports about them. What she needed was a purpose, a project, a fiscal investigation, something to do.

Plainly that was not going to happen at a weekend, and definitely not the weekend between Christmas and New Year. Being stuck indoors was the final straw, or was it Sophie's use of sarcasm?

"I've made you a coffee, but it's a bit late for breakfast."

"Thanks, I thought you'd be angry with me?"

"I should be, but I guess I'm partly responsible? Come here."

A hug followed, interrupted by the doorbell. Heather was nearest, keeping the door-chain hooked. A police identity card was being held up.

"Hello?"

"Ah, I'm DC Garston, is DS Grieve here?" He seemed to be holding something behind his back.

"I'll get her."

Sophie had moved up to the door but was staying hidden until the caller was identified.

"Hello again."

"I'd like to apologise for what I said yesterday."

"Is that a result of a chat with an Inspector?"

"Maybe, I'd like to make amends." He swept a bunch of flowers from behind his jacket. Sophie unhooked the chain and opened the door wider, taking the bunch from him.

"Thank you." She handed them to Heather who was stood a few feet away. The flowers were now heading into the kitchen to find a vase.

"Is she your partner?"

"Yes."

"Oh."

"Please don't make me put a complaint in?"

"No, um, no." He seemed lost for words. Upstairs the secure phone started to ring so Sophie decided their conversation had ended.

"The bat phone is ringing, it might be Commissioner Gordon."

"Oh, you best get it. Bye." Plainly his cultural knowledge was lacking.

As Heather was still arranging the flowers Sophie headed upstairs and let herself into the office.

"Hello?"

"Hi Sophie, it's Emily."

"Right, just let me get the key out."

That took a minute as Sophie managed to get the safe combination wrong at first attempt.

"Are we secure now?"

"Yes, Emily, how can I help you?"

"I have some updates for you. Firstly Tara Smart has been located and is being moved to a safe house, we're hoping she can provide some useful intelligence this time."

"That is good news."

"It gets better, the Chechens were picked up at Membury Services on the M4 last night after Wiltshire officers became suspicious."

"Where are they now?"

"At Paddington Green, we also have ten kilos of explosive and a small arsenal of weapons."

"Were they involved in the air traffic control incident?"

"It's looking unlikely, they were almost certainly planning an attack on a different target, the best guess is New Years Eve celebrations in London."

"Shit, are they talking?"

"No. Right now we're trying to work out how they got into the country but a car ferry into Plymouth looks likely. I have Devon and Cornwall looking through hours of CCTV around the dates your Algerian mentioned."

"Ahmed Malek is in hospital at the moment after the Chechens left a device behind the kebab shop. As the take-away was closed Christmas Day it could have been there any time from Christmas eve night."

"I saw your report, I also had a complaint from the DI responsible for Special Branch officers in Devon and Cornwall Constabulary."

"The officers there didn't know what they were doing and could easily have contaminated the site, then SB turned up and decided I was involved."

"I sent him a copy of your report and had an apology on the phone within half an hour."

"That explains the flowers earlier this morning."

"Flowers?"

"DC Garston decided to placate me, I guess his DI might have had a hand in that."

"I wouldn't know. Anyway, I've given the Truro DI a suggestion that your entries on the force's intelligence database are restricted to Inspector level and above."

"Thanks."

"Heather's car has also been added to the restricted list, the same as yours."

"That should have been done in November."

"I know, but I thought Jenny had arranged it. There's something else, I had a call from Kevin this morning, two Kosovans have been arrested in Thurso so far. He now thinks Kelmendi is up there so you can cancel your Amber Alert."

"Thanks, we were going stir crazy."

"Right, it's Saturday and I want to get out of here!"

"Fine by me, bye for now."

"Bye."
 

***
 
A friendly nurse at Treliske Hospital revealed that Ahmed was due to be discharged just after lunchtime. The girls had decided to sort that out themselves and were now heading back to Redruth with their passenger.

"Merci."

"Ce n'est pas problème, Ahmed."

"Mais...."

"Mais rien."

Ahmed sat back and folded his arms. He came from a culture where such kindness involving police or security forces was virtually unknown. He silently resolved to redouble his efforts to help the ladies.

Once they arrived back in Redruth they went straight to the take-away, Mrs Malek came out, her wounds still visible. She hugged her son and then the girls, through Ahmed she expressed her thanks and said they could have free food any-time they wanted.

Sophie had thanked them for the offer but wasn’t planning to take advantage of it, she told Heather a minute later.

“Speak for yourself!”

"You don't!"

"Yes, I do like them." That was one thing that Heather had grown to enjoy as she'd worked for a kebab shop owner, Hamiz Fourani, before his death. Having said that, if she'd realised what he was up to she would probably kept well away.

Back indoors they busied themselves with domestic chores before starting dinner, lasagne this evening with garlic bread and a green salad. They also allowed themselves a glass of wine, a Cabernet Shiraz.
 

***
 
Sunday was a day when almost nothing happened. An overnight frost had put a white sheen on the roads and roofs and it looked slippery. The girls, didn't need to go anywhere so stayed indoors. The irony was that until the previous morning they had been housebound under an Amber Alert.

With two of the Kosovans detained the threat was diminishing. The Chechens were now looking at lengthy prison sentences for a variety of offences.

It was five o'clock when the secure phone rang.

"Hello, it's Kevin."

"Hi, it's Heather."

"Hi Heather, I'm still in Thurso but we have Duran Kelmendi."

"Excellent, how?"

"He made an attempt this lunchtime to kidnap Tammy Smart, the daughter, but her bodyguard disarmed him and two off-duty officers intervened."

"I understand Tara Smart is also safe."

"Yes, she's finally told us that one of Berisha's friends had arrived in the country on the 8th of December. We're actively looking for him."

"Great. It sounds like you have all bar one."

"Yes, anyway I now have a report to write."
Moving on

The weather dictated Heather and Sophie’s movements over the next few days, with more time spent indoors due to rain or gales.

Sophie’s wish was to visit villages and small harbours on those days when the weather was kinder, Heather’s intentions however involved investigating the larger retail outlets for post-Christmas bargains.

Unfortunately that often meant going into, or near, the larger towns where they could join the long queues for a rare parking space before braving the streets which were full of mad shoppers.

"This is not my idea of a relaxing day, Heather."

There was, however, an interesting For Sale notice in a Redruth Estate Agency’s window, Heather went inside to obtain the paperwork and rejoined Sophie a few minutes later.

“Could we?”

“We could, but should we?”

“Let’s talk when we get home.”

Sophie did not like to sit indoors and vegetate, so in spite of the weather she still tried to visit the local harbours regularly, making notes. Heather, did, sometimes join her out of boredom, or just wanting to be with her partner.

One of these trips took them to Newlyn on the first Sunday morning of 2015 where they observed the crew of the Penlee lifeboat preparing for an exercise. Across the bay they could see the ferry to St Marys leaving on the 11am sailing. Nothing untoward was happening and that disappointed the girls.

It was the next Friday, on the morning of January the ninth, when they were both sat with Jenny in Thames House. DI Emily Keane had joined them for a review of the previous three months. Jenny kicked it off.

"Well, ladies, it was a little eventful over Christmas?"

"There was a fair bit of finger twiddling too."

"Speak for yourself, Heather."

"Oh, come on Sophie, I didn't do as much as I could?"

"Heather, Sophie, stop the bickering. Heather, if you hadn't have investigated St Marys Chandlers then we'd never have known about Duran Kelmendi or successfully closed down that smuggling route."

"True, Jenny."

"There we go, Sophie took risks but we wouldn't have known about any of it without that initial interest."

"I suppose so."

"Plus Heather, your report writing is getting better as well as your intelligence gathering."

"Due to practice?"

"Correct, but you're more observant, too. Sophie, please try not to be a police officer as much, you need to sit on the sidelines and be an observer more often."

"Jenny, those idiot officers were going to contaminate the scene at the kebab shop and hadn't any experience with terrorist acts. I couldn't just stand and watch."

"Okay, that time your training took over, but you can learn more about a scene by not participating, just watching and listening."

"Easy to say here, less easy on the ground." Sophie wasn’t going to give in.

"Jenny, I'd have to agree with Sophie on that one."

"I understand that Emily, but it's still a concern as it attracts attention to Heather, directly or indirectly."

"Yes, I see."

"Next, ladies, I think it's time you gave up the house in Redhill."

"Maybe Jenny, but we do still use it."

"Once in December! On this trip I bet you're going back to Cornwall this afternoon so you've only spent one night there. It's not worth the running costs."

"So I guess it's hotels from now on?"

"Yes, receipts for everything please."

"Okay, we'll make arrangements to move the rest of our belongings once we have a storage unit organised."

The meeting continued by analysing the investigations they'd become involved with. Emily provided the final update.

"We now have the fourth Kosovan, he was picked up by the French border police at the St Pancras Eurostar check-in yesterday. Unfortunately, the identity he was using was wanted in Italy for fraud so it was in the Schengen database. Once it was clear he was wanted here for the air traffic control attacks he was handed over to us and is detained with the others in Belmarsh Prison."

"What about Tara Smart?"

"She's on bail and no longer in a safe house. In due course she'll have to attend court, it's with the Crown Prosecution Service right now to prepare the case."

"Okay, okay. Now, what's our next task?"

Jenny put down her pen, “I’ve been looking at the regional coverage that we have, not just within my team but across all counter-terrorist operations. Emily’s input have been excellent and, where possible, we can share resources.”

Heather sensed there was an issue.

“Yes, we simply don't have many assets in Scotland and certainly none in the Highlands, that cannot be allowed to continue." Jenny was quite insistent. "If something happens we will be very exposed and at the tender mercies of the local police officers."

No-one present could argue with this view, the problem as ever was what to do about it. Heather had a suggestion.

"I don't know if you'll like this but we can develop a school-leaver and let them continue their education whilst giving them the perfect cover, an apprenticeship if you like?"

Emily queried this. "If you're talking about an eighteen year old, they are not sufficiently mature to handle a double life and can't keep their mouths shut. It's bad enough with police recruitment straight from school, their focus is too wayward."

Sophie took a different tack. "What are the issues here? What do we need assets for?"

"Firstly, there's a drug and weapons smuggling operation that's been displaced from Cornwall. The drop points vary and the vessel isn't the same each time. On the occasions we've boarded a suspect vessel they're clean. The suspicion is that the Trethgarwyn family are involved. The problem there is that one of them is a serving police officer in Thurso."

Heather audibly sighed. "That family again, Jenny?"

"Unfortunately, there may also be a Russian connection but the intel is not reliable so far. We also have an issue with money laundering at the University and need someone on the inside there."

"So you'd want either a member of staff or a student?"

"Yes Emily, if we're going to do this covertly."

Heather made a suggestion. "How about Miss Tamara Smart? She's taking her A levels in a few months and is doing Business Studies with the Finance option at the local University. We've already researched her family, her father did some work for us a few years ago. The only fly in that ointment is her mother."

Jenny wasn't convinced. "I'd need to know who we're dealing with and what her finance skills are?"

Emily: "DI Kevin Edmunds was up there over Christmas and speaks highly of the girl, perhaps these ladies could spend a few days in Scotland? A direct approach would be best, I feel."

Jenny: "Okay, if that works we'll suggest she does an internship this summer, but not here."

"Based with us in Cornwall?" Asked Heather.

"Yes, but I want the final say. What do you think Emily?"

"I've seen the reports from Christmas, her father was sensible enough to take on a bodyguard. Miss Smart also seems to have come through the experience intact, that's a useful quality. What if she does a week or two at Easter so we get a close up look? That way Thames House is not exposed."

"I'd accept that. Okay everyone, let's run with this. If this works we'll have an agent embedded as a first year student at the University for the Highlands & Islands. If it fails, can we wash our hands of her?"

The meeting didn't want to explore that possibility. Jenny agreed to underwrite the costs but insisted on full induction training via Thames House if the summer internship was going to be offered.

"If that's all?"

Heather looked at Sophie before speaking. "We'd like to buy the cottage next door and knock through to make it a single property." Jenny did not look surprised.

"I know you've done your homework on this, I guess you'd want the security system expanded."

"Of course."

“You are not going to run a guest house, are you?”

“No, no, but we’d at least like to be able to have somewhere for our guests to stay, the B&Bs in Redruth are pretty full from April to October.”

"Get me a full report by the end of the week and I'll consider it."
 

** Fin **
 

The story continues in UG3: Diminishing Returns
 

Unaccounted Gains Books 3 & 4 are also available on Kindle