11.00. The noise of the doorbell wakes her from her
sleep. She is instantly confused. It’s light and she has been sleeping. As the
doorbell rings again she remembers she is on nights. She glances at her alarm
clock and realises she has been asleep for not much over an hour. She put on
her slippers and shuffles to the door angry with whoever has disturbed her. She
slides open the door until the chain stops it. Through the gap she can see a
young man with a tray of cleaning materials.
11.05. We leave the shop with an image of the man we
are hunting and his credit card details. Faith leads us down the road and we
dive into an Apple Store. “Keep the ‘brains’ busy whilst I do a search”.
Strangely this opportunity does give me the chance to ask why the battery on my
iPhone 5 is draining so quickly. The man in the t shirt says we should ‘reset’.
I explain the phone is totally drained and he says he can give a super burst
and before I can stop him takes my phone into the area behind the Genius bar.
11.10. In two buildings less than one mile apart two
sets of people are intensely studying computer screens and information strands.
In both offices there is shaking of heads and a sense of bewilderment. The
common question is ‘how the hell could this happen’. Quite possibly the most
dangerous collection of information has disappeared. For some the thought that
it was blown up in the helicopter explosion is a potential blessing. For
others, the loss of such knowledge is a disaster on a scale that is
unimaginable.
11.15. She lies back down on the bed but knows she
will not fall asleep again. She has had the equivalent of a ‘power nap’ and the
adrenalin from the sharp awakening is coursing through her veins. After moments
of turning from side to back to side she makes the decision she may as well get
up. She walks through to the kitchen and clicks on the kettle. She may as well
shower now, she thinks and walks through to bathroom. As she passes her laptop
she let’s her finger rest on the pad and see the battery is up to 93%.
11.20. Faith
comes over to me. “OK, I have a trace on where he lives. It’s about ten minutes
from here which makes sense. Let’s go.” I explain that I will have to wait for
my phone to come back from the Genius bar. I don’t think I have quite seen a
look like the one she gives me since my mother found me with the wings of a
butterfly in one hand and its velvet like body in the other. Fortunately the
eleven year old techie who took it comes back. “OK, it’s had a charger boost,
can you switch it on?” “No,” says Faith forcibly, “we’re late.” He hands me the
phone and I now get a look of pity from a baby faced tech.
11.25. The Minister has just about given up hope. All
that he has built, all the climbing of the greasy pole he has done, all the
crushing of competitors is about to be lost. It was his responsibility, he did
‘OK’ the operation, it is his head on the block. He could cry. This was not the
end he envisaged. His plan took him right to the top. He cannot even explain
that he had made the decision to approve at a time when his attention was
diverted. He wants no one to know his little secret. How can anyone think
straight when they are bound and being whipped. He should have let the phone
ring but he wanted to show how important he is, was.
11.30. She towels her hair dry, it is practical cut
and one that doesn't spoil from wearing the police cap. She taps the kettle on
and transfers one and half teaspoons of coffee from jar to mug. The click
signals the movement of water to granules. With milk added she goes back to her
chair and lifts her laptop. She stares at the memory stick and wonders once
again what possessed her. She opens her Facebook account ‘Roberta Peelers’ and
types in a new status. She looks back over the last fifteen days since she
signed up and realises how dull her life looks. In the next few hours she will
wish for those time.
11.35. Two vans are parked on double yellow lines. A
traffic warden approaches. As he begins to show interest one of the doors
slides open and a dark suit gets out. There is a brief chat and the traffic
warden moves swiftly on. The suit gets back into the van and shuts the door.
Silence remains. They are used to slipping into neutral between bursts of
activity. For most it’s a job but for the leader he knows that this one is make
or break. He doesn’t like the expression ‘life or death’ but he knows what
might happen.
11.40. We walk up a gravel drive to a little mews
cottage tucked down one of those amazing hidden roads you find in central
London. Faith rings a doorbell and we wait. Within moments the door opens and a
middle aged woman looks out. Before she can speak Faith says, “We’re here to
meet David,” in a light singalong voice with not trace of threat or anxiety.
“He’s not here I’m afraid,” she replies but Faith moves forward saying, “He
asked us to wait for him.” The woman, who I can only presume to be his wife,
asks if we are from his work to which Faith replies in the affirmative and
before I know it we are being offered tea or coffee.
11.45. The Zurich team having been briefed make their
way to three different sites. A group goes to the command centre, another team
take up a variety of surveillance positions around the Minister’s office and
one team speeds towards the site of the Helicopter crash. The news about the
incident is on the radio and tv which will mean getting access for the third
team will be tough.
11.50. As the wife is making our coffees Faith takes
the opportunity to search the room. I know we have to find out who he worked
for as it will be the only way to clear ourselves. There will be teams out
looking for us and unless we find the answer it will be us in the spotlight.
Faith whispers to me to go through to the kitchen to ‘help’ so I can delay his
wife. Every second of this day is making me feel more and more inadequate.
11.55. With Facebook updating done she has turned to
her emails. It’s the one way she keeps in touch with her family and those
friends she can’t see regularly because of her work shifts. She sends a last
email suggesting to one of her closest and longest standing friends that
perhaps they should think about booking a holiday. As the clock ticks towards
noon she inserts the memory stick she had taken from the site. That one action
starts a series of events that she could never have imagined.
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