Sunday 9 February 2014

23 hours - the ninth hour

08.00. The three speaker phones bleep into life and the caller on each identifies themselves. Those seated in the room do the same. The normal jocularity that usually accompanies such situations is missing. The Minister leans back and then forward with purpose placing the palms and fingers of his hands together almost in prayer, "Gentlemen, and lady," he turns to acknowledge her, "I need hardly remind you what a tsunami of crap is going to fall on your heads and lives if we don't resolve this situation." He leans back and gives the sort of smile that can curdle milk

08.05. In Betcherton eight men run to their vans as the leader stares at a tracking device on his mobile. The man and woman walk back to a dark saloon car and get in. The woman is speaking on her phone. On a train pulling away from the station Faith and I are sitting opposite each other. I have been keeping an eye on those walking along the platform and those boarding the train. There is no person or group who look dangerous to us. I lean across to Faith and say, “Looks like we’re ahead of them.” She lets out a little smile and sits back.

08.10. A voice from the one of the Spider phones crackles into life “Gentlemen,” says Voice 1. The lone woman in the room stares at the speaker. “It would appear that our teams are back on the signal track of Agent Hope’s phone. I shall leave this conversation for a few moments and come back to you with an update shortly.” As he hangs up there is a general sense of relief in the room. A second disconnected voice reports that the police who were present are too stupid to know anything. The Minister sits back, “Let us hope this removes the cloud that is hanging over all your heads.” He presses his intercom. “Tea now,” he barks.

08.15. As PC Ellis changes into her civvies she hangs her uniform on the bar in her locker and turns away before remembering. She reaches back into the darkened space and lift up the sleeve. She takes a short sniff. ‘Should do for another couple of shifts,’ she thinks before her hand brushes the pocket of the jacket. She glances around the changing room to confirm it’s empty and puts her hand inside enclosing the metal object from the scene in her palm. Quickly transferring it into her civvy clothes pocket she leaves the room for home shouting ‘goodbye’ as she leaves.

08.20 He cycles with headphones in. He is avoiding puddle and potholes and is finally beginning to relax after the near accident by the station. He begins to sing along to the track and let’s his mind wander ahead to the evening he has planned. A small smile flicks across his lips at the thought. As it curls upwards towards his eyes he is knocked from his bike by a black van sending him sprawling onto the pavement and his rucksack into the road. He begins to shout as a second van pulls up and he, his bike and bag are bundled into the back.

08.25. I am looking at Faith and she is still smiling. “You seem quite relaxed considering they are chasing us right now.” She reaches forward and says, “I gave them a little detour.” She smiles again. “Remember the cyclist I bumped into.” I nod. “Well I turned on my phone and slipped it into his bag when I knocked into him. They should have been chasing him for the last twenty odd minutes.” I sit back and suddenly feel nothing but pity for the innocent cyclist who is now wrapped up in this hideous morning.

08.30. In a darkened room a nurse moves towards the man in the bed and rest her hand upon his. She gently repeats his name until his eyes open. “What is it nurse?” he croaks and signals for the plastic beaker with straw next to his pillow. “It’s your son Sir, he want to see you.” He takes a sip and lets the warm water moisten his lips and tongue. “Help me sit up,” he asks and when he is settled asks her to show him in. He knows something is wrong. He has no son.

08.35 The cyclist in the back of the van is terrified. Two of the men are shouting questions at him about a mobile phone is his bag that isn’t his. He has no answers and if confused. He needs time to think but they won’t stop shouting. He can’t even follow what they are saying as his English is weak. They have been through his papers and he can only presume it’s about his visa but they haven’t asked him about it. Finally he shouts out his name and bursts into tears. For a few moments the only sound is from the road. A voice over the leader’s mobile phone says “Bring him back to base.”

08.40. Tea has been served. Those that wanted coffee accept the tea as it is clear there was never going to be a choice. Little of insight has been said in the half an hour that has passed but they have rehearsed a few scenarios and discussed various strategies and approaches. The have shortlisted the most likely countries and organisations to be behind the act and have shortlisted two. The computer voice announces that the Line 1 spiderphone is active again. “Well?” asks the Minister. The tiny voice speaks, “He’s being brought back to the base for questioning. He has the phone but nothing else.” There is an uncomfortable silence.

08.45. Back at home Tracey-Rebecca Ellis fills the kettle and flops into her comfy chair and thinks ‘what a night shift.’ Well, in fairness up until just after six it had been a normal night but then …. She takes the metal object from her pocket and stares at it. She’s knows what it is and she knows she should have handed it over and now she is totally compromised. She can’t think what came over her but can only assume it was the fact that, for the first time this morning, something exciting and exceptional had happened after four years in the police. The click of the kettle makes her jump.

08.50. “You wanted to see me?” says the man from his hospital bed. “You can leave us Nurse and do sit down son.” The nurse pulls the door shut and they both leave a pause to hear her footsteps move away. The room is filled with the sound of the old man’s breathing. “Well?” he finally says. The younger man opens a brief case and lifts out a small device which he turns on. It emits a white noise distraction and as soon as it is audible he speaks. “We may have an issue with the collection.”


08.55. Faith opens her eyes and looks at me. “We should be in London shortly. The shop is in a very affluent part of London. I doubt it will open until ten at the earliest. I suggest we go to one of the large shopping centres and buy a set of clothes each from a single shop so we can settle everything together in one payment. They will have tracks on all our credit cards. Before then we want to buy to large brimmed hats with cash to ruin any CCTV images.” She really is rather remarkable. At least I have some cash so can contribute a bit.

No comments:

Post a Comment