Action For World Peace

Greg Whitelaw drove up the short drive to his gates in an agitated state. His trip from Paris to Ealing, a suburb of London, had been horrendous. He had planned to arrive home midday but it was now nearer six at night and getting dark. His problems started with a couple of men, probably illegal immigrants, being detected walking alongside the track in the Chunnel. That being closed, his only option was to catch the ferry from Calais to Dover. That again was inundated with travellers in the same predicament leading to long queues at the terminal. To cap it all the English Channel was in the midst of a mighty storm impacting on the ferries being able to dock easily in the Port of Dover. Not being a good traveller, Greg suffered two hours of stomach-churning journey before the ferry docked at Dover where he had to stop in a lay-by at the side of the road for an hour to recover. This meant he hit the M25, London circular, at its busiest time, commonly called the London car park. He managed to crawl home in the traffic with a brief stop for provisions on the way.

Sod’s Law struck again when he pulsed the fob to open his electronic gates and they failed to open. Greg jumped out of his Range Rover, still pulsing the fob, to no avail and let himself in via the postern gate to the side, used by the Postman and delivery men. Waving his arms above his head, the whole area was suddenly lit up by the security lights. At this point we could see what a huge fellow Greg Whitelaw was. At least six foot four with broad shoulders of the modern rugby player, longish dark hair flopped over a handsome chiselled face.

The problem with the gate was clearly evident. The electric mechanism was switched off. A sniff of the air revealed the culprits, the gardeners who had been in to mow the lawns as they were contracted to do at regular intervals. Parking the Range Rover in the drive, Greg jumped out clutching a large black metal briefcase and a large plastic shopping bag, full of provisions. A key box at the front door of the porch produced a large key with which he unlocked the double door and with the aid of his shoulder, pushed his way in. The porch light came on automatically displaying sizeable, tiled floor of Victorian style and an unusually bland brown door leading into the main house with no sign of keyhole or door knob.

Without a pause, Greg set his belongings on the tiled floor and proceeded to lift the full letter box cage off its hooks and replace it with a similar empty one standing at the side. Clutching the cage in his left hand, his right thumb deftly input numbers into his cell phone and the door clicked open a fraction. Again, with his shoulder he pushed it open sufficiently to wedge it with the post cage whilst he picked up his case, shopping bag and the post cage. Pushing through the door which closed silently behind him, the automatic lights lit up a spacious hall with a number of doors leading off it. Greg chose the one which stood slightly ajar which led into a large kitchen, again lit up automatically as he entered. Placing his belongings onto a large oak dining table, Greg glanced about, satisfied that all was in order. He set about loading the fridge with the contents of the shopping bag.

Emptying the months worth of mail on the tabletop, he took a container out of the fridge, pierced the top several times with a sharp knife from the box on the side and popped it into the microwave oven, setting it on low. Taking a bottle of beer from the fridge, flipping the top off with his thumb, he sat down heavily into a dinning chair confronting the pile of spilt mail. A deep sigh followed by a pull on his beer, Greg pulled forward a large office type shredder from under the table and switched it on to add a second loud hum to the room. Picking out the visible advertising junk he shoved it into the gaping mouth of the shredder which changed its tone from a hum to a voracious crackling. With a slim silver paper knife, he started slitting open the letters, glancing at the contents, setting them to one side, or feeding them to the shredder. He did this with practised ease, occasionally pulling at the beer. Three sorted piles grew in front of him, magazines that he subscribed to, bills that had been settled and a small pile of letters to be actioned. A loud ping broke his concentration and he took the container out of the oven, ripped off the top, gouged a hole in the centre with a fork and filled it with a handful of frozen peas from the freezer. Satisfied he replaced it in the microwave for further heating and returning to his task.

A few minutes later the oven pinged again. This time he retrieved a large ornate plate from a cupboard, placed the hot container from the oven on it, tested the heat with a fork, satisfied, took the plate back to his place at the table and started shovelling the food greedily into his mouth, first stirring in the peas into the mixture. He was hungry but soon satisfied; he continued to check his mail in between mouthfuls of food, an occasional pull at his beer and feeding the shredder. A large brown envelope presented itself, correctly addressed to him, with a Belgian stamp. Before slitting it open, he checked for a return address on the back. There wasn’t one so he slit it open, took out the one sheet and automatically fed the envelope through the shredder.

In bold writing the sheet of white bond copy paper was headed in bold type, 

ACTION FOR WORLD PEACE.

He scanned it once in speed reading style and then a second and third time more slowly, digesting its contents. He checked the reverse but it was blank. Pushing aside his plate he clipped open his metallic brief case and took out his laptop and opened it. Last pull of the beer, he set the bottle aside and tapped in his password. The machine buzzed into life and asked him to type in his location which he did, ‘Sherwood Crescent,’ and the normal Google Internet screen appeared.

In the search field he typed in ‘action for world peace’ and three entries appeared, two with addresses including world peace and an entry from Wikipedia. He clicked on the first entry and an official looking web page appeared and he read the contents twice, stopping to ponder over a sentence stating that this organisation were prepared to take violent action in pursuit of world peace. He next opened the Wikipedia entry which briefly stated the same message. Checking the date of the entry he was surprised it had been submitted five years ago. The third web page was an application form to join the organisation. It was very brief, not asking for name, address or Email address. It did ask for Passport number, registration of main personal vehicle. Greg surmised that was sufficient to glean all the personal information required. The next question was about occupation and the last question which intrigued Greg was to what length the applicant would be prepared to go, to support the organisation, from taking part in demonstrations to violent activity. The violent activity interested Greg, musing to what length they would go to.

The answer was in the letter in front of him. He picked it up and reread it a couple of times and concentrated on the salient features which required his action. The letter, not addressed to him directly stated very clearly that he, the recipient, had to take positive action in distributing the message to all Heads of State and media. He pondered for a while as to why he was chosen for the task and concluded that he was an established journalist and able to carry out the task competently. The message at the bottom of the page stated that the authorities should not ‘shoot the messenger’ since further important communications were forthcoming. There was no date on the letter and Greg glanced down at his shredder which had thoroughly digested the envelope which might have given him a clue to the date it was sent.

Taking a portable printer out of his case, he slipped in a sheet of labels and from his quick search started printing addresses of all the embassies in London, the serious press, MI5, MI6, BBC, ITV, Channel 4, world press and finally Scotland Yard, the headquarters of the UK police. Printing off a hundred copies of the letter took a little longer having to replace the stock of blank sheets. Taking a second beer, he started feeding envelopes, sticking on addresses and arranging them in logical geographic order for delivery as he knew it. He finally succumbed to a courier delivery programme which did the job for him in seconds, printing out his route in detail. The suggested transport was a motorbike but on second glance he saw that a push bike would only take 30 minutes more in the congested London streets. Bundling up the envelopes in convenient batches he carefully placed them in a small shoulder bag and gulped down the rest of his beer. It was getting late. His cold food got dumped in the waste, laptop, printer put away, shredder turned off he retired upstairs and slumped into bed having first set his alarm.

He beat the alarm on his cell phone and it continued sending more and more aggressive messages as he showered. A quick coffee and he was on his way in his Range Rover to a convenient car park in central London. On his way into the car park, he spotted a stand of ‘Boris’ hire bikes which he would provide him with the necessary transport. The bike proved a boon since he could ride over the pavement directly to the guard or doorman outside the embassies and hand over a letter. He managed all of this in quick time and finally left the bike in a stand near the BBC main office and walked up to the reception handing the letter and stating that he would sit and wait for a response. A six-foot four gentleman, built like a proverbial brick shit-house augers full respect and the receptionist immediately shot off to a bank of lifts clutching the letter tightly.

It wasn’t long before a well-dressed gentleman arrived with the receptionist who pointed to Greg standing near a bank of seats. The man introduced himself as a senior producer without giving his name and ushered Greg to the bank of lifts.

“Mr. Gregory Whitelaw, you have done some good work for us in the past so we have taken the letter seriously,” said the producer as he led him down a corridor to a small studio. “We would like to record an interview with you for our record and also for possible broadcast.”

“I did expect that and welcome it on the following conditions. You had read the severity of the message and the fact that I am totally implicated being the messenger. I understand why I have been chosen, a minor journalist who probably knows his way around the media outlets. I don’t want to be suddenly arrested and locked away. This I hope would be a ‘Get out of jail card’ if you see my meaning.”

“I understand Greg and I will do my utmost to get the interview broadcast but as with all things I need to get security clearance otherwise my neck is on the block.”

“True, but I have delivered the same letter to all of the embassies, world press, ITV, Channel 4, your rivals. It is bound to get out and it might as well be the BBC to be first.”

“I follow your argument but this will have to go before the Main Board and probably before the Home Office.”

“That’s understandable but I want to preserve my freedom and independence. I have already delivered the note to MI5 and MI6. After this visit I am going to deliver the same message to Scotland Yard. They will no doubt be in touch with you.”

“OK, let’s set out the parameters of the interview. Since we are going in cold, without any script, the interview will be recorded and will have to be edited. We may even have to modify the final edition by inserting a more established interviewer. As you probably realise that is no problem for us with current technology. I presume you don’t mind being in full view rather than a back view?”

“Look, with my frame people will soon suspect who it is. I would rather come out as me and hope for some protection as merely a messenger.”

“OK, do you want an exclusive contract, payment?”

“No just a straight interview that you do with the public.”

“Thanks Greg. Meet Linda Mason. She will conduct the interview and we will feed her questions as necessary. Since we have had so little preparation time she will start with your professional background and then question you why you were chosen to be the messenger. It may be aggressive so you will have to put up with some discomfort.”

“Good to meet you Linda,” responded Greg holding on to Linda’s hand and towering over her. “Just one thing, I can be intimidating with my size so think of my as a midget and that will help you.”

“Thanks Greg. I must say I was hoping for a wide table between us when I saw you walk in,” she replied with a forced smile.

“A little tension won’t go amiss in this interview given the severity of the subject. Now Greg, you sit here, half facing the camera and Linda. We will probably do a few runs and repetitions so do be patient though I’m sure you are well versed with all of this with your background. Right Linda, you start with the background then shoot the first question. Our researcher will no doubt pass you further questions as we go along. OK everybody, we start now.”

They spent seventy minutes on the interview process, going over a number of questions and rephrasing some. Both Greg and the producer who finally introduced himself as Frank Henley were happy with the results which would be edited down to ten minutes or less for broadcast.

“My next stop and delivery is Scotland Yard so you may want to call and pre-warn them. It will keep you in their good books.”

“I might Greg or on the other hand let them see you as fresh meat. No doubt they will interrogate you thoroughly. John here, my researcher will see you out and get you a fully paid-up cab to your next destination. Get him to take you by our café for some refreshments. Once again Greg, thanks for the story, I hope it has legs and no doubt they will be in touch with us if you tell them. Hope to work with you again.” They shook hands and he was whisked away by John whilst Linda gave him a wave as she was viewing the takes.

The visit to Scotland Yard was a less pleasant experience. After the preliminary handover of the letter to the receptionist and the interminable wait, he was whisked off to an interview room by two burly policemen where he was left to stew for at least half an hour. Whilst waiting Greg turned away from the one-way mirror through which he reckoned he was being observed and surreptitiously switched his cell phone on to record and slipped it into his top pocket.

Two suits arrived and without much introduction and certainly few pleasantries started an aggressive interview focused mainly on his probable membership of the Action For World Peace organisation and why he was chosen to deliver the message. It was highly repetitious and Greg was visibly getting uncomfortable with the mundane questioning so he suddenly stood up. The two interviewers were visibly frightened by his action as he towered over them. The two burly policemen suddenly burst into the room.

“It’s OK, calm down everybody. I just need to stretch my legs having sat here for over an hour on an uncomfortable chair,” said Greg as one of the interviewers nodded to the two policemen to depart. “Look, you have been going over the same old questions time and time again and I have been giving you the same old answers. This is getting boring. We or you are not getting anywhere here. I’m only a messenger and the information I’m giving you about this secretive organisation is what I gleaned from their web site last night.”

The two interviewers visibly stiffened and one nodded towards the window.

“Please sit-down Mr. Whitelaw. We need to get to the bottom of this matter. Whether this is a hoax and are you telling the truth? No, let me finish. If we establish that this is genuine then as you can appreciate it is a serious matter and will have to be taken to higher quarters. You have told us that you have delivered a similar note to Downing Street, MI5, MI6 plus all the embassies. We have already requested a transcript from the BBC and someone is checking that out now.”

“Fine, but for how long are you going to keep me here, repeating the same old questions and not getting any different answers? You are not even rephrasing the questions. Is this some delaying tactics?” replied Greg with some sarcasm in his voice.

“We are waiting for an Officer from MI6 to arrive and check you out, also the terrorist squad have visited your house in Ealing for a search and found that it is impossible to enter without severe damage to the structure. Like Fort Knox they said. That in itself is highly suspicious. Again, we checked out you Range Rover and our expert lock picker couldn’t get in without breaking a window. We need some explanations. No normal individual goes to such lengths with security.”

“I can explain all of that and you will find it’s quite innocuous,” said Greg as the interviewer held up his hand to stop Greg talking any further.

“Our man from MI6 is here to continue the interview. Do you need a break, drink?” asked the chief interviewer as three further men in suits barged in. “OK, please take Mr. Whitelaw for a break and refreshment in the canteen. Bring him back in fifteen minutes.”  The two burly policemen strode in and beckoned for Greg to follow them.

“What do you reckon Alan? Is our man Greg the genuine article he makes out he is or is there something deeper we are missing?”

“You pose some difficult questions there Robert. On the face of it he is what he says he is, an innocent party, but there are some fundamental questions about his past we need clarity on. His youth in India, his obsession with security, his affair with this Meghan Rainer and the purchase of his Victorian mansion for a snip from a party which we can’t find, even their records. 

“His profile fits that of a sleeper but how long has this secret Action organisation been in existence?”

“We don’t seem to be able to trace it beyond ten years and most of Greg’s activities we query are well before that. The question is what truth is there in this note that nuclear warheads have been planted in twenty-six cities around the world and particularly the World’s hot spots like Syria, North Korea, Iran, Israel, Palestine, Yemen to name a few?”

“Where could this organisation get so many and how did they do it without our knowledge. We have requested Pentagon and Kremlin to check their warheads carefully to see if any are missing. We would have known long ago if this has happened. We would have also known if they had been constructed in secret. Where would they have got so many essential ingredients to construct so many bombs?”

“Many unanswered questions. The Pentagon and Kremlin want to interview our man. We have sent them our recorded interviews and those of the BBC. The question is do we release him? The note states that this Gregory Whitelaw is only a messenger and further communications are forthcoming through him.”

“My take on this is that we release him with full surveillance so that we can lead us to the source of his info.”

“Our allies won’t like it and are likely to add to the surveillance and there will by fifty or more agents following him about. We can’t have that. Let’s talk to him and convince him he needs protection twenty-four, seven, a bodyguard until this blows over or blows up.”

“Very droll but where do we search for a nuclear warhead. They tell me they are quite small.”

“How small?”

“Well, they will fit on a standard wooden pallet as used by hauliers. Boxed in they would be impossible to detect. They don’t even give off any radiation so it’s like looking for a needle in a haystack.”              

“That makes our decision for us. We have to release our man to get the location of our sample war head as stated in the note. We have nothing to lose.”

“How are we handling the media?”

“We are treating this as a hoax at the moment and stating that it’s impossible to steal our warheads. We are calling it a James Bond threat and investigating the origins of the message.”

“The full note is already out in the press.”

“Yes, we knew that would be leaked. But we are sticking to our hoax line although North Korea are rattling their cage and blaming the US.”

“We have a plan or at least we have made our decision. Bring in this Whitelaw fellow and we’ll put it to him that he will be living with an armed shadow or two for a while. Do we have a candidate?”

“A number but we will have to persuade him to accept. To increase the apparent severity to him we will insist that he wears a full bullet proof and bomb proof vest for his own safety outdoors. We will tell him that there are too many idiots out there who will have a go at him.”

The interview went well and Greg agreed and even welcomed a constant bodyguard. He even suggested that they stay in his house overnight. They even provided him with a bullet proof vest and a special vehicle for his protection.

The main part of the interview was with his past in India. Greg repeated his story again and again. He was born in India and his father worked for a rich industrialist as a financial director. At the age of fifteen his parents were killed in a road accident and he was taken in as an orphan to tutor the industrialist’s children and grandchildren mainly in English. At the age of twenty-four, his benefactor died and left him a large sum of money. Self educated and an expert in photography having spent much time taking portraits of his extended family, he flew to London to take up a career as a freelance photographer. The journalistic element came later as an offshoot of his work. Within his first year he decided to buy a property and that was how he met up with Meghan, the first real love of his life.

Meghan Rainer was an eccentric beauty, slightly older than him, at twenty-six. She rented the vast Victorian house in Enfield and on behalf of the owner was tasked to sell it. Greg moved into the house with Meghan as the deal was going through. A month before the meeting Meghan had been burgled twice and the house had been severely trashed so she asked Greg to make it totally burglar proof before the sale went through. Much of this was paid for by the insurance claim. Looking into the future of travelling around the world with his career he made sure all the latest security features were included. All external doors were changed to solid steel. The windows were fitted with steel grills and shutters, security cameras on the outside with automatic floodlighting. 

This cost a fortune and he added some of his own money to renovate the bathrooms and kitchen plus adding automatic lighting in the living rooms when anybody walked in. As soon as completion was reached Meghan packed her bags and disappeared off the face of the earth. Greg told them that he even employed a private detective to find her. The puzzle was that she wasn’t registered anywhere, at least under the name of her rental agreement. Forlorn, Greg restructured his life with new fervour which led him into journalism. His articles regularly appeared in the press and magazines. On a few occasions he had appeared as a reporter at an incident in remote parts of the world taking a video selfie and publishing it on his website for the TV channels to purchase. He developed a large following on Twitter, Instagram, Blog and Facebook and was well known to the media field.

What puzzled his interrogators, was how and why Meghan had vanished off the face of the earth and secondly how Greg managed to buy the property for such a low price? Was Meghan linked to the current episode and had Greg been a sleeper for the past twelve years? 

There was a knock on the door and a young, tall man entered with a hold-all in one hand, dressed in casual but smart clothes similar to Greg’s. He walked up to Greg, stretching out his hand, introduced himself as Roland Walters, his minder for the next seven days. They were formally dismissed, shown to the bank of lifts that took them to a basement garage where they were confronted by two men in dark suits who introduced themselves just as drivers.

“Greg, these guys are to take us to the garage where your Range Rover is parked,” said Roland whilst the other two looked on disinterested. “They will drive in convoy to your house in Ealing where you will allow them in and they will do a thorough search. We will go out for the evening to a restaurant to leave them to it. I will be staying overnight with you as arranged. Right gentlemen, show us to our transport. Any questions Greg?”

“I don’t think so. Just glad that they haven’t broken into my house or car. Would have done a lot of damage getting in. You know where my car is?” asked Greg looking at one of the men who just nodded and showed them to a spanking brand-new black Range Rover. They drove in silence. Arriving at the car park one of the men demanded the keys.  Greg handed over the keys and the man pulsed the fob. Lights flashed but when the man tried the door it wouldn’t open. He looked back at Greg who was trying to get out the car. The child locks were on. The man opened the door, let Greg out who produced his cell phone and tapped in some commands with both thumbs working at speed.

“You can pulse the fob and open up now. I’ve disabled the security system for you. Ensure it’s locked up safely when you park. I have some valuable equipment in there.” The man just nodded and got into the driver’s seat, pulled forward the seat, adjusted the mirrors and drove out. The second car followed with a driver plus Greg and Roland. They drove through the raised barriers without any payment or ticket which was still in Greg’s pocket.

  Greg’s car arrived at the gates first and he pulsed his fob and watched the gates open. Both cars drove in and parked on the drive alongside the house. Everybody got out and stretched. The drive in the rush hour had taken ages.

“I’ll open the house for you,” said Greg addressing his driver. “If you let the main door close on you, you won’t be able to get in. Roland and I will be off for a meal. Give us a buzz when you are finished. The keys to the garage are on a hook in the kitchen. It’s empty. You can give it a sweep out if you have time. Don’t make a mess!” Greg turned on his heels and made his way to the postern gate. Roland shrugged his shoulders and ran after Greg who was by now a dozen paces ahead. They walked to the High Street without saying a word. Greg led them briskly to a Polish restaurant that he frequented which provided substantially large portions of tasty food. He hoped it would take Roland out of his comfort zone.

  

“A couple of Polish beers please,” he said to the barman.

“With you straight away Greg. Menus on the table,” replied the barman promptly. Roland noted that Greg was a regular and his name known. Greg sat down at a table to the side and handed Roland a menu in Polish for good measure. The large beers arrived promptly accompanied by one glass for Roland. Greg drank straight from the bottle. All this didn’t phase Roland who grabbed his bottle, pushed his glass aside, raised his bottle in salute and said ‘Nazdrowie,’ Polish for good health. The waiter arrived and Greg looked to Roland to order first.

“I’ll have six mixed golobki in mushroom sauce with sauerkraut plus your razy,” stated Roland to Greg’s amazement.

“I’ll have the pork schnitzel with two fried eggs accompanied by sauerkraut plus your usual razy,” he ordered then turning to Roland and said, “So you are au fait with Polish cuisine?”  

  “I spent some time at the consulate in Warsaw so it’s a pleasant surprise to partake in Polish food again. Sorry to spoil your surprise. Greg, can I have a look at your phone. Can you turn it on for me?” Greg opened his phone with a password and handed it over to Roland who with both thumbs started tapping in commands. “Interesting, you have a military encrypted phone here. I presume the encrypted programme is on a separate password. Any reason you have one? Another reason to be very suspicious of you. We may have to do some water boarding to get the password out of you,” stated Roland with a smile and waiting for a reply.

“No probs. I use it only for the car and house security. No use having an ordinary phone which can be hacked by any kid still wet behind their ears.” Roland nodded and handed the phone back as the waiter brought a starter of Russian salad, rollmops and a plate of brown rye bread. Roland picked up a fork, a piece of bread stating ‘Smacznego’ and tucked in. Greg raised an eyebrow and also started his unordered starter.

“Tell me what you do day to day in your profession?” asked Roland as he put his fork down on a clean plate.

“Is this more interrogation?”

“Not particularly but I was brought in without any brief. ‘Just some baby sitting,’ I was told not mentioning that I would be hand holding a giant. Where did you get your huge frame, rugby, body building?”

“Nothing like that. My father was large so was his grand father so it must be in the genes. As to exercise, then start lugging some of my photographic equipment about, up mountains and down dale, you would have to be strong and very fit. Camping out in a hide for days on end to get the right shot can be most uncomfortable especially for a huge guy like me.” The main course arrived and Greg looked greedily at Roland’s plate wishing he had ordered the same. They both raised a bottle and greedily tucked in.

It was only halfway through the huge plate that Roland hesitated, looked at Greg and asked, “What are your plans for this week? What I mean is what would you have done if this hadn’t happened?”

“I was planning to go down to the Solent and take some pics. The light is good and there should be some interesting migrating birds there. The prevailing winds are disruptive at the moment so many birds will be blown off course.”

“Are you an ornithologist then?”

“Not really, more of a jack of all trades. I follow certain Tweets and Blogs and pick up essential info. There is a good market for wildlife pics and you can get them anywhere. I was in Paris last week. The hotel put me in a back room overlooking the yard with bins from the kitchens. You wouldn’t believe the livestock there fighting for the scraps. Amongst the mice and expected rats there were foxes, owls, even a buzzard. I had three cameras recording this apparent mayhem. I need to check it out and put it out on the market. Someone will bid for it, probably the lot. There’s at least twenty minutes of good stuff there to pad out a wildlife programme.”

They continued in this vein with Greg doing most of the talking. Three more bottles of Polish beer and vodka chasers Roland phone vibrated with a message that the coast was clear. Roland paid with a hefty tip and the proprietor placed a tray loaded with various Polish tapas plus two large glasses of Bison Vodka uttering that they didn’t have far to walk.

“Well let’s finish this and bed for me. Tell me, have you been recording our conversation here?”

“Ughu!” replied Roland showing the tip of a recorder from his top pocket. “But I would say it shows you in good light. Rather balances the odd thing and the suspicions we have about you.”

They walked back to the house chattering about this and that without a care in the world.   

 

  Alan and Robert sat in an office on the depths of the MI5 building scrutinising plans, diagrams and notes.

“Both the Kremlin and Pentagon totally refute that anybody could have stolen a nuclear warhead never mind twenty-six or more. They all say their security is too tight. Other nuclear nations haven’t that many in total to lose,” said Alan forlornly.

“Having spoken to our own engineers looking after our devices it seems that there is only one area of danger, a possible weak spot. Do you know that these devices need occasional servicing, every seven to ten years, they tell me. They also take this opportunity to upgrade the electronics and even make them more powerful.”

“Yes, I know Robert but it states here that they are transported on ordinary trucks, on ordinary roads to the specified contractor. It’s easier to do the service and modification in one central place than engineers going to these sites. They are spread all over the country.”

“You’re not saying they are hijacked on the road, are you? That would be discovered straight away. What if the deception is taking place at the engineering shop. The serviced warheads are boxed up and stored in the warehouse ready for transport in the field. My notes here say that the outer casing are modified and altered. In fact, it says here they are usually re-engineered and the old ones cast aside.”

“I see your drift. What if the warehouse man just sends the old casings back to be refitted and the newly serviced warheads to the scrap merchant who sells them onto our Action group? The engineers on site won’t know the difference. They just fit them on the rockets. OK, the warehouseman adds some electronics so that the testing appears during commissioning correct and fills the inside with bricks to the correct weight.”

“That’s a very devious scheme but could they get away with it.”

“Look Alan, both the Pentagon and Kremlin were asked to check their stock carefully. Did they jemmy them open to find the bricks or just do routine electronic tests? It states here that it takes more than a day to dismantle the sharp bit of the rocket and remove the warhead, same to reassemble so no easy matter to physically check that it’s the real thing.”

“Having accumulated the necessary warheads I bet that the warehousemen have all vanished into thin air.”

“Right, let’s ask our people to jemmy open a couple of warheads and secondly check the current status and location of all the staff who have left even retired from the service company in the last seven years.”  

“Could we get the Kremlin and Pentagon to do the same? They would think us crazy. What if we let slip that this is exactly what we have done and found we have only two warheads unaccounted for?”

“That’s admitting that we have been careless and our Government will have egg on face. We wait until Mr. bloody Whitelaw gets another message. This one will probably tell us where they have hidden a sample warhead to inspect so that we take them seriously.”

“There is sufficient buzz in the press on the subject to tell this organisation that Mr. Whitelaw has completed his first task.”

“Yes, but would they use the same source again, I wouldn’t? I’d expect him to be under constant surveillance and not get-atable.  They wouldn’t want to lose another of their members, although if they can pull it off it would give the whole thing more credence. Let’s stop here and ponder a while. I have a feeling that our Mr. Whitelaw will come up trumps.”

The air was pervaded with the aroma of bacon and toast cooking as Roland made his way down to the kitchen.

“Hi, slept well?” asked Greg as he flipped over the bacon in the pan. Roland just nodded. “I’m cooking full English if that’s OK. Would I be allowed to go to the Solent today? The weather forecast is good and the twitchers are getting excited.”

“Yes, to the full breakfast, I’m starving and the trip to the Solent would get you out of the way. I’ll check with base. We will have to take our car though. Yours might be known to the press by now.”

“That would be difficult. I have all my gear and set up in mine. Why don’t we just swap the number plates? My car would be standing on the drive visible to any watchers. You drive off and I’ll crouch in the back.”

“Might work but I’ll still have to check with base. I don’t have any gear. Do I need any?” asked Roland as Greg positioned two full plates plus a pot of coffee on the kitchen table. He also positioned a toaster on the table, plugged it in and inserted two slices of bread.

“We’ll pop into a supermarket on the way to get supplies and you can get a pair of wellies and a pair of warm socks. I’ve got a spare set of gear in the car that you can use,” answered Greg as they both tucked greedily into their breakfasts.

They set up their hide just off the top car park at Lefe Point, overlooking the Solent. It was quite high up amongst the trees and bushes. Both were togged out in greenish capes and floppy hats to camouflage their profiles. Greg showed Roland how he had set up his automatic telescope which tracked any bird, zoomed, focussed on it, took several close-up pictures which were then automatically compared with a catalogue linked to the internet. Each time the mechanism buzzed Greg looked at the picture and the recognition note and either kept it or deleted the image if it was a common seagull. 

“Do all you twitchers have this automatic system?” asked Roland.

“I doubt it. I have developed this myself and linked it in together to the internet. Nothing really clever about it but it saves a hell of a lot of scanning the skies with binoculars. In about an hour the system will start recognising the regular birds that I have discarded and stop buzzing. Only the odd ones will be checked.”

“But you’re only scanning one part of the sky, aren’t you? You might miss something over there surely,” questioned Roland point in a different direction.

“I would also miss something just scanning across the horizon. Here I have a solid, steady platform for the system to recognise the odd ones,” replied Greg.

“But isn’t this a bit boring, sitting here and waiting for a buzz? What if something interesting shows up? You will miss it by the time you respond.”

“First of all, this is how I make my money so I have to be efficient. Secondly if I press the search button the mechanism immediately reverts to wide angle and follows the flight of the bird taking further pictures every ten seconds and doing the comparison. If it is an odd bird for the season and location, then I may go into manual mode or use this other camera with the long lens and take more snaps. When I’m satisfied, I reset the system to search again for different odd birds,” replied Greg pointing to a huge lens with camera attached.

“Where did you get these ideas from? They are very sophisticated,” said Roland, as he inspected the huge lens system that Greg handed to him.

“Many of these automatic spotting systems are used by the military, traffic control and even the police. I have just adapted them to spot wildlife. I’m still working on it to make it more efficient. Fixed cameras are widely used in wildlife filming. That’s how they get the super close-up shots that astound the public. I sell a lot of them,” replied Greg taking back the lens carefully and stowing it in a special container.

They spent a fruitless afternoon spotting nothing unusual, just spending the time chatting, with Greg showing Roland some of the unusual clips he had taken of wildlife on his tablet. The light was declining and the incoming sea fret made further scanning impossible, so they packed up their hide and Greg took the first lot of equipment to the car whilst Roland guarded the rest. Suddenly Greg rushed back waving a paper.

“This was stuck to the windscreen of the car. Like a parking ticket in this sticky envelope. It’s the second message as we expected,” uttered Greg as he handed over the letter and waited for Roland to read and digest the contents.

“Oh Shit, do we know where it’s located?”

“It’s somewhere in Waterloo Station according to the coordinates there. I checked on my cell phone mapping app,” said Greg looking excited. Roland immediately put down what he was carrying and phoned base. There was a short conversation where Roland read out the reference and a helicopter was mentioned followed by the GPS position of their location.

“OK, this is the plan. We load this stuff in your car and wait in the car park. A helicopter will be here to take us back to London. A driver will be here to take our car back. Now hold this note straight against this box. I want to send a photo of it back to base.” They hurried back to the Range Rover and loaded all the equipment in the special compartment in the back. Locking the car Roland ushered Greg into a nearby field. Within minutes a helicopter arrived and was able to land. Roland gave the car keys to a man who had jumped out and pointed to the car park. The man ran off as crew members helped them in and the helicopter took off before they were even strapped in. Greg wasn’t given headphones so wasn’t able to communicate because of the noise, watched Roland as he was talking excitedly on the phone. They arrived at the Thames Heliport what seemed to Greg like in minutes. A black Range Rover totally blacked out whisked off to the MI6 building on the side of the Thames where a lift took them down to the depths.

Alan and Robert were sitting side by side at a table in an interview room in the MI6 building.

“I am suspicious,” announced Alan twiddling an expensive fountain pen with his fingers. “Firstly, the message is too early. I expected a few days delay and the enemy are too well organised. I don’t know how this organisation has escaped our radar. If this threat, as I’m going to call it, is kosher then there must be a massive organisation with lots of influential people and tons of money.”

“I agree. If our people find this device then as Mr. Whitelaw says it vindicates his circulating the initial letter,” replied Robert, getting off his chair and stretching his legs.

“I’m not sure vindication is the right word here. He should have handed the letter over to the authorities in the first instance rather than circulating it to every Tom, Dick and Harry,” said Alan with a disgusted look on his face.

 “Yes, but the instructions were very clear on the letter. If he hadn’t have done it, I’m sure they had other people as back stops.”

“I know it sounds plausible that he just shredded the envelope automatically but it would have been useful to have known what date it was posted. He’d been away on the continent for over a month. Also, who puts water and soda in the bottom of their shredder so that the paper quickly ends up a soggy mess? It’s all too bloody convenient,” said Alan also getting out of his chair. “I can understand how they tracked him to the Solent. They could have also tracked him back home.”

“But why has he surrounded himself with such complete security. Transponder in his car, I can understand, so he can track it if it’s stolen but his house is like an impregnable bunker. Way over the top,” said Robert gesticulating with his arms.

“He uses an encrypted cell phone and laptops.”

“True but he’s given up his encryption codes and our guys can’t find anything incriminating. In fact, the only suspicious thing is that there is very little information stored on them. He must use the Cloud system but there is no link that we know. Coming back to his house, it’s designed like one of our safe houses, very little in it and nothing conspicuous. It’s very bland,” added Robert strolling about the room.

“They have been searching Waterloo station now for twelve hours and haven’t found the walled off room as stated in the note. We have our boffin boys at the ready to inspect and disarm the device. The note states that it is armed and it’s the second one in London. Where in hell will that one be located?” asked Alan holding his hands to his head in despair. 

Two days later the surveyors and searchers who had been comparing architectural plans with current wall arrangements found a number of blocked off rooms and passages and many anomalies between plans and actual arrangements on the ground. It was on the fourth day that they struck gold. A spy hole was drilled through the wall and revealed a large wooden box on a pallet board, connected to a control box with a cable to an electrical socket to the wall. There was also an antenna cable leading to the outside through a series of normal conduits.

A team of engineers examined the device and disarmed it. 

In a meeting room in the MI6 building a number of senior personnel including the Minister of Defence, Alan and Robert were discussing the issue. The Chairman ordered Alan to explain the background and the implications of the find.

“Everyone here knows the background. What we expected was to find one of the three warheads that we have lost or had stolen. The dilemma is that the one we find in London is a Chinese model. Beijing was adamant that theirs were all accounted for. A team of their engineers is currently flying over to check this device,” stated Alan, carefully reading from his notes. He was interrupted by the Minister.

“Are we sure this is not just a dummy and how powerful is it?”

“Well Sir, according to our engineers it’s certainly a genuine nuclear warhead and they reckon, according to our intelligence, this is one of their most powerful. Twenty plus times that of Hiroshima, powerful enough to devastate the whole of London within the M25 circular and probably beyond.”

“Thank you, Alan,” answered the Chairman and stated, “Not only do we have a physical situation here but a major diplomatic one. The US and Russia are not revealing that they have lost any war heads at this moment. We know that we have lost three and for a fact China have lost one. If this one is a genuine loss for the Chinese, then I believe we should accept more have been stolen. We need a delegation from the US and Russia to inspect this device and see for themselves the worldwide threat we have.”

“Now wait a minute,” shouted the Minister, “We need the Prime Minister’s and Cabinet’s consent before we have tourists from all over the world coming over here.”

“The Prime Minister and you Sir are in the loop but if we extend this information to the Cabinet, it will get out,” stated the Chairman. “Do we want that? This is no longer a hoax Minister. Maybe you would like to inspect this device? We know for a fact that there are three more of these devices out there and before you and the rest of the Cabinet start pointing fingers, just remember that we have a World crisis on our hands. It’s up to you and the Prime Minister to take a lead in the Diplomatic process to get the other nuclear nations to own up what they have lost so that we can assess the size of the problem we all have,” stated Alan looking the Minister in the eye.

“What if they won’t play ball or the other countries state categorically that they haven’t lost any?” retorted the Minister.

“That means that only Britain and China have egg on face. Don’t forget this organisation seems to have people in high places and they may even leak more specific information directly to the public. We don’t want to set off a Worldwide panic, do we?” replied Alan getting acknowledging nods from the rest of the committee.

“What do we know of this secret terrorist group? What can I tell the Prime Minister? I presume you have grilled this so-called messenger?”

“All we know is already on their website and this fellow is just a capable messenger,” retorted Alan as the Minister gathered his papers and rushed out of the room. 

  

Roland and Greg sat opposite each other at the large kitchen table with a full English in front of them, a steaming mug of black coffee and a cafetiere ready to plunge. Greg speared a sausage, holding it up, looking at Roland, asked, “How long am I going to be under house arrest?”

“Indefinitely,” answered Roland taking a sip of his coffee. “At least until this is all cleared up. At least you are in your own house.”

“That may be but when will I get my laptop back and my phone. Plus the cards from the car. I need to keep my customers happy. I have a number of commissions to fulfil.”

“I’ll see what I can do. I expected these requests. I have a spare laptop you can use but everything goes via HQ. You can only read Emails, search etc but it will all be monitored and censored.”

“I can live with that. It’s what I expected. The only thing is I need Email addresses which are on my phone and laptop. I tend not to keep records.”

“I’ve got your phone but it has been blocked for incoming and outgoing calls. You’ll have to live with that,” replied Roland slipping Greg’s cell phone out of his pocket and pushing it across the table. Greg nodded a thanks.

“Great, at least we don’t have to play poker all day long. Now I’ve been thinking,” replied Greg sipping his hot coffee. “I presume you are recording all our conversations?” Roland tapped his top pocket in acknowledgement. “Why was I chosen for this onerous task as messenger? They could have picked many journalists with the same knowledge. Thinking back, I must have been groomed for either this task of something else.”

“Tell all,” said Roland taking the recorder out of his top pocket and setting it on the table.

“Well, before he died my benefactor in India said that in the future, I would do great things for the world. I remember, I questioned him and he answered that I would help in some way to achieve World peace. He told me to go to London and start a career in photography and maybe journalism.”

“Did he give any further indications of why you were the chosen one?”

“He didn’t say it in that way but I was ushered out by the nurses before I could ask further. He died that night.”

“That was many years ago and it’s a bit of flimsy information,” answered Roland finishing his coffee and replenishing his mug.

“He left me a hell of a lot of money. I came to London, living in a bedsit until I got established when in my second year an Estate agent’s leaflet was pushed though my door advertising this house as a solid investment. My housemates all got the same leaflet. I questioned them and all agreed that it was a good price for Ealing but rather large.”

“Did you get in touch with the estate agent?” asked Roland.

“That’s the funny thing. This girl with a lovely voice rang me and persuaded me to view that Saturday. Fortunately, I was free and that’s history. 

“Yes, we know but why did she suddenly disappear when everything was finalised on the house,” asked Roland as he checked the recorder.

“We only had a couple of months together and I was really distraught when she suddenly disappeared without a word. I searched in vain when suddenly I was commissioned by a TV company to do some wildlife work for them and I’ve never looked back. She also encouraged me to do more journalistic work, writing articles on various topics, mainly for their supplements, but it all still does keep me very busy. Did she have anything to do with all this?” Greg took a sip of his coffee and looked at Roland.

“It all sounds plausible and more than suspicious, all your good fortune though you work looks first class when I looked through it.”

“Yes, but have you seen my earlier work? It was all crap,” retorted Greg. “Have they found the bomb at Waterloo?”

“I might as well tell you that they have. It will leak out to the press soon. The Prime Minister and Cabinet know and need to make some fundamental decisions. Don’t ask me anymore because I’m not on that level of information. Thank you for those insights. HQ have been listening into our conversation since I alerted them. I now need to make a phone call back to base for further instructions. If you have any further insights Greg then please let me know,” said Roland getting his phone out and strolling into the lounge for some privacy whilst Greg polished off his breakfast.

Two weeks after the warhead had been found and verified at Waterloo Station another entry appeared on the World Peace website just stating that the British had found this sample live device as instructed by the organisation and that this was a declaration of their seriousness and intent. Further messages would follow.

Alan and Robert were in a meeting room designated for high level conferences and were being questioned by a number of important people including the Minister of Defence, A Major General and a number of Government nuclear engineers. Alan continued, “Although this message is very brief it does mean that this organisation knows that we have found their planted warhead. They must have people in high positions for them to know that.

“That’s rubbish!” retorted The Minister. “All they know is that Waterloo was cordoned off for a while. Why did it take them so long to respond?”

“We assume that they knew the procrastinations we were going through and they gave us time to get all the nuclear Nations on board,” replied Alan.

“Well, it took us a long while to get all the other Nations to admit that they had lost some,” stated the Minister. “Our Minister of Foreign Affairs had a devil of a job convincing them to cooperate.”

“Well, they all have after a fashion and there is a scheduled meeting on Thursday in Geneva to discuss the matter and hope for a response,” stated Alan. “Sir, have all admitted to losing their stock?”

“Not as yet but since they are all willing to meet, there will be some uncomfortable participants particularly since they can’t locate any of their nuclear scientists and engineers that retired five years ago,” stated the Minister.

“That’s true. We did our own checks in US, Russia and China and presented our findings to their respective organisations,” said Alan. “As yet we haven’t had any response or even any denial.”

“Anybody hazard a guess where they have all disappeared to?” asked the Chairman. “This is like a James Bond film.  I may jest, but if all these specialists were sequestered together somewhere then they could be manufacturing the devices themselves. Anybody checking that?”

“Yes Mr. Chairman,” answered Robert, “We are actively checking the sources of fissionable materials that are essential for that task. Unfortunately, we have found discrepancies in the stockpiles. The quantities are not huge but our experts reckon sufficient to make up a dozen warheads the size we found at Waterloo.”

“Could they have manufactured some of the twenty-six that they have planted?” asked one of the engineers.

“At this moment in time we don’t know the answer but we can only assume it would be simpler for them to steal that number. The manufacturing process is not only complicated but required a lengthy process or timeline,” replied Alan.

“Have we got a list of demands from this terrorist group?” asked another engineer.

“Not as yet but we can expect one when all the Nations get their act together. We suspect there might be some response on Thursday as a result of the meeting in Geneva,” answered the Chairman. “I suggest we close the meeting and meet tomorrow if there is any progress on any front.”    

 

 The doorbell chimed. Greg checked his phone and saw it was the pizza delivery man. He showed the screen to Roland who nodded in assent, as Greg strolled to the front door in his bare feet. They had ordered a huge pizza and a side order of coleslaw. Greg handed this over to Roland whilst he busied himself switching on the kettle, getting two mugs from the dishwasher plus two sets of cutlery.

“Christ,” exclaimed Roland as he dropped the open pizza box on the table and grabbed for his phone.

“What is it? Have you forgotten something?” asked Greg as he watched Roland read off a piece of paper into the phone. Greg looked over his shoulder and immediately switched on the TV to the BBC channel, sited on the bench in the kitchen.

“How in hell have they managed to secrete a note in a pizza box for us to find and how do they know there is a summit in Geneva going on at this time,” yelled Roland in anger. “And the note states ‘I hope Roland is looking after you well.’ How do they know my name?” Roland took a picture of the note on his phone and sent it back to base. “A courier is coming to pick up the note and a posse of investigators will be here to check out the pizza parlour and their delivery methods. Do you know anything about this? It looks mighty suspicious.”

Greg shook his head negatively and stated, “I know nothing. Let’s eat and watch the TV. The note states that there will be an extraordinary bulletin on BBC. I can guess what it might be but let’s eat and watch.” Half an hour later a wildlife programme was interrupted by a newsflash.

“We interrupt this programme for Breaking News. Few minutes ago, a bomb has been detonated of massive magnitude in far Eastern Russia, near the borders of China and North Korea. This explosion was picked up by seismic stations all over the world and the shockwaves were that of a very strong earthquake. In Beijing buildings shook and damage occurred, shattering windows. The seismic scientists recognise this as a nuclear device and not a natural event. We now go over to our European correspondent in Geneva where a closed summit session is being held of UN members.”

“We believe that this meeting is to do with this explosive event. I am now being told on my monitor that it was a nuclear device set off deep underground in an area close to the borders of Russia, China and North Korea. At this moment Russia and China deny setting off or testing any device at all. The scientists claim that the magnitude of the explosion is equal to forty times that of the atom bomb dropped on Nagasaki. Our defence expert reckons that only USA and Russia have developed and stock such bombs. We are awaiting comments from both. Five minutes ago there was a flurry of activity outside this building with official couriers demanding to be let in. This is a closed session so the press or public are not allowed admission. That’s all the information we have at this moment. I return you to London.”  

The cameras flashed back to a studio in London. “At this moment we can only surmise that these events are all connected. The public letter that was circulated stating that this terrorist organisation calling themselves ‘Action for World Peace’ have planted twenty-six nuclear devices in various cities and hot spots around the World. There is a leaked and uncorroborated account that a device had been found in London and defused. This meeting in Geneva comprises UN members, only those which have nuclear devices. This is uncorroborated but our correspondent in Geneva listed the delegates arriving. And now the explosion or test in Outer Mongolia has set the cat amongst the pigeons.”

“As yet we know of no demands from this terrorist organisation, who are totally unknown. The pattern of events suggests that they are setting out their plans, positioning their devices, letting us find a sample and showing that they are capable of exploding such a device. As yet we don’t know if these bombs have been stolen or manufactured. Our experts suggest that they could only be stolen. No Government has yet acknowledged that they have lost any stock but all are keeping very quiet on this matter, presumably to prevent general panic but this is already set in. People all over the World do want answers and reassurances now, not tomorrow. We will keep you informed as the news filters through. Please keep watching BBC1 and our BBC News Chanel where the whole matter is being discussed in more detail with our panel of experts.” 

“The BBC seems to know more than we do,” remarked Roland pushing away his cold pizza.

“I’m surprised that the BBC didn’t mention the power and influence of this organisation. They must have people in high places to do what they have done so far and they seem to be very clever in the progression of their plan,” stated Greg.

“Too true but our immediate issue is how they got the message to us in a pizza delivery? I chose the pizza rather than Indian or Chinese and also placed the order on my security phone. How can that have been hacked into it? My first thought is that they have planted listening devices in your house Greg, but our people went through it with a fine toothcomb,” stated Roland looking at Greg for some answers. At that moment the front doorbell chimed and Greg held up the screen for Roland to see and clicked the door to open. In came two official looking men who Roland greeted with a shake of hands but no names given.

“We have closed down the High Street with a supposed car accident and are in the process of interrogating the Pizza manager and all of his staff. Fortunately, the High Street is well covered with CCTV which is being checked as we speak. Have you come up with any ideas on how the note came through?”

“We have discussed it in depth but no ideas at the moment. Have you guys seen the recent newsflash,” answered Roland leading the men into the kitchen where they gave Greg a cursory nod.

“I’m afraid we are all at a loss about this organisation. There was early hope that this was a hoax but recent events show otherwise. We are in a pickle that’s why we put so many resources on this latest incident here, hoping for a lead. You guys OK here?”

“We are fine,” answered Roland whilst Greg just looked on. “Can you send our security boys around to search this place for bugs again? They may have missed them.” The two men left the house.

In a large meeting room in the MI6 building the usual suspects were in a closed meeting.

“I was at the Geneva meeting,” stated Alan. “It was a complete shambles. Everybody was accusing the big three, US, Russia and us of a big stitch up. That we were manipulating the Nuclear Treaty for our own purpose which meant that we were all trying to reduce our costs.”

“Well, they have something there,” retorted the Minister of Defence, “The cost are skyrocketing and we haven’t even added to our arsenal. What was the impact of the news?”

“It was amazing. Firstly, the country reps huddled and contacted base to get further information. The news was broadcast across all countries so that they were able to access their own news channels. The Chairman suggested that they all meet up in twenty minutes and discuss the implication of the event,” stated Alan.

 “What happened next?” asked someone? 

“Suddenly there was, at last, some coherence from the delegates in the hall. They all sat silently and waited for the Chairman to begin the session. The Russian delegate offered to start and stated that even though the explosion was on their soil they hadn’t carried out any tests and their experts agree that it was a nuclear device of high magnitude. He also stated that they had lost seven warheads and the issue is under intense investigation.”

“How did the delegates react to that information?” asked the Chairman.

“They were visibly aghast and there was a moments silence then they all got onto their phones back to base. The Chinese delegate was the next to offer that they had lost eight. I stated that that we had lost three and The French delegate offered up four. That totalled twenty-two. Everyone then looked at the US delegate for a statement. He rose to his full height and read a statement that they had lost five warheads. The place erupted with guffaws and laughter ridiculing his statement.”

“I should think so,” uttered the Chairman. “We know that they cannot locate over a fifty of their retired engineers who serviced and commissioned these things.”

“That’s exactly what the Israeli delegate stated but his numbers were sixty-seven people,” continued Alan. “The US delegate stood his ground and just continued as the hubbub subsided. He stated that the five were from their Eastern facilities and they had lost a further twelve from their Western end. This now totalled thirty-nine. He then pointed to the Indian, Pakistani and Israeli groups and asked them to state their losses. There was complete silence. Then the Israeli man said they hadn’t lost any because their warheads were serviced on site by mobile engineers.”

“Did the Indian and Pakistanis own up?” asked a MP to Alan’s right.

“They did. They stated that they had lost all of theirs but wouldn’t disclose a number. The Chairman summarised for them, that he estimated that they had ten each and totalled the sum to fifty-nine warheads less two, out there loose in the World. Again, there was an outbreak of chatter as delegates were on their phones back to base. The Chairman closed the meeting with a message for all to go back to their Governments and consider the severe implications of these disclosures and that they would reconvene in two days time or earlier if there was a list of demands from the Terrorist Group. Yes, he called them a Terrorist group.”

“Thank you, Alan. As yet we don’t know who this group is,” said the Chairman. “At least we have a number of different intelligence agencies searching for the missing engineers. That is the only clue we have. Our messenger man is no lead. We have even given him a lie test and all seems kosher. We have to wait for their demands. I have a feeling we know what they will be. My initial concern is the hope that in their organisation they don’t have any radicals or extremists that might trigger a bomb at the slightest provocation.”

“They may have up to sixty warheads,” stated the Minister of Defence gravely. “Why would they want to build anymore? My point is why would they need the engineers? What’s happened to them? We can’t find them.”

At the breakfast table Greg was pouring refills of coffee whilst Roland was tucking into his cereal. “With maybe sixty warheads these activists may not need any more for their plans, nor do they need the sixty-seven or so retired engineers that helped them in stealing the devices in the US.”

“Where in hell did you get that information?” demanded Roland.

“From the internet!”

“But your access has been blocked so who has been feeding you this information?” said Roland rather crossly, clicking his phone to alert the listeners at base to the conversation.

“I couldn’t sleep last night thinking about where these engineers could have been hidden. You remember there was a news flash suggesting the only way these warheads could have been stolen. At that time, I didn’t know there were over sixty of them or the numbers of stolen warheads. I turned on the TV, a smart TV, and a sign came up that it was connected to the internet so I just trolled all the news websites. The whole thing is out there in fine detail. There is a total transcript of the Geneva meeting held two days ago which is very explicit,” answered Greg as he drank down his coffee.

“Shit! Double shit!” exclaimed Roland. “Firstly, you shouldn’t have taken the opportunity to do that since you knew we had blocked your access and secondly I hope you haven’t sent or received any messages of any kind.”

“Don’t take me for a fool!” uttered Greg. “I had no communication as your geeks will now be checking. All I did was troll all the international news channels and most of them had the same story. That’s where I got my information. Now can we discuss the implications of that news with reference to the engineers?”

Roland’s phone buzzed and he listened intently for over five minutes and then faced Greg. “OK, this is the deal. You know more than I do at this moment and base is going to unblock the laptop and you are to show me these news channels which will bring me up to date faster than they can tell me over the phone. Secondly, they allow you full internet access, full communications. There is a catch in this.”

“Oh, I know what the catch is. They will monitor all my communications hoping for a lead. Now will they allow me into the dark web?”

“Why would you want to go there?” asked Roland pushing his cold breakfast away and opening up his laptop.

“If you’re looking for secrets then that’s where to search. More likely to find a lead there than on the public web. I hope your guys are already onto it?” said Greg looking quizzically at Roland. Roland’s phone buzzed again.

“Permission granted and yes, they are looking at the dark web where they have found profound increased activity on the topic. What’s slowing them down is the encryption. I doubt that even you can get over that?” answered Roland now looking quizzically at Greg.

“Hey, ninety per cent of my communication is encrypted simply to be ahead of the competition in selling photographs. There are numerous encryption machines on the dark web that can help to decipher messages. I even have an algorithm that searches and finds the correct codes. Most people on that side are either too lazy or even like their messages to be hacked. They just use the standard codes rather than inventing their own. In fact, they probably do the same as me with my algorithm. If it’s standard they ignore it knowing it’s not that important. If it’s odd they try and break it. There’s a group of geeks out there who work together to break down codes. From time to time, I even challenge them with a code I’ve invented and I’m no expert.”

“Hold on Greg,” said Roland holding his hand up and listening intently to his phone. “OK, OK, I’ll ask,” continued Roland as he faced Greg with a question, “Will it be OK if base send a guy down with a powerful computer so that you can search?”

“No probs. there,” nodded Greg, “but don’t they have their own guys far more expert than me onto this?”

“Yes, they probably do,” replied Roland, passing on the message from the phone, “But the scene is changing so fast another pair of hands may help,” said Roland and added, “They also want to monitor you probably. You are an enigma to them. There is a group out there that are convinced you are a plant from the organisation. You are too clever for words.”

Within an hour two guys arrived with a boat load of equipment which they set up on the end of Greg’s large kitchen table. They then delved into the dark web and requested that Greg gave them access to the encryption group and he gave them an indication of authentic phrases he would use when communicating with them. He also suggested that they hide the identity and complexity of their equipment and use that of his own fairly ordinary regular laptop otherwise they might smell a rat and log off. Fortunately, the guys had brought along Greg’s own and directed their communications through that line. Meanwhile Greg showed Roland the news websites he had trolled to bring him up to date. Greg suggested that they retire to the Polish restaurant on the High Street and leave the boys to their own devices. Base gave permission.    

Robert of MI6 was Chairing a meeting of Interpol representatives from Europe in a meeting room at Scotland Yard. “The purpose of this meeting is to establish what progress has been made in locating the nuclear service engineers that have disappeared and are implicated in the loss of our warheads. Would anybody like to start and update us? Yes Yuri.”

“Thank you, Robert,” said Yuri with a strong Russian accent. “We have located the relatives of the engineers and have discovered that they are all in regular contact by email. In our Russian manner we put pressure on these people to reveal the location of our engineers, even threatened the relatives. This all backfired on us. All the relatives suddenly disappeared, whisked off to we know not where and in retaliation this organisation interrupted all the power to the Kremlin area for four hours. We are no further in our search.”

“We are at the same stage,” reported the French representative. “We discovered that two months ago our retired engineers and their families had been on a luxury cruise of the Mediterranean where they kept to themselves in private dining rooms and private lounges. They did have visitors on two occasions in Nice and Barcelona. We still haven’t established who they were but presume that they were part of the organisation. One peculiar element is that they drew out huge sums of cash from their accounts. We still haven’t located them.”

“In the UK we have established that they maintain regular communications with their relatives including Christmas and birthday cards plus hefty cheques as presents. Emails include photographs of the engineers and wives at various locations around the world as if they were travelling. Again, as in the case of the French they have withdrawn large sums of cash a couple of months ago.”

“We are in the same position in the US. Regular communication with relatives but no indication of their locations. They seem to be travelling the world and enjoying themselves. We have noticed a regular pattern in all of their communications as if they had been written by one person rather than various individuals. This may be rather clever or a more sinister element creeping in. This might mean that they are imprisoned somewhere and their communications are being made on their behalf to look normal. The relatives seem happy with the situation and most are envious of their apparent travel.”

“OK, we have established a pattern here,” stated Robert. “They communicate regularly, it appears normal to the relatives, much cash has been withdrawn for unknown purpose and if we put pressure on their relatives they too disappear and retribution is actioned. We still haven’t positively located anyone although the French experience seems to provide good omens that they are still with us. Would anyone proffer any different information?”

“Yes Mr. Chairman,” said the Chinese delegate. “We froze their bank accounts hoping for some reaction. All we got was concerns from mortgage and utility companies that their bills weren’t being paid on their existing homes which are still in existence with an occasional check by a relative.”

“Well, we seem to be getting no further in our investigations,” said Robert. “I suggest you send all your findings to Interpol in Brussels and we will have a team comparing and checking patterns. We are dealing with a well organised group of highly influential people who can initiate small scale retaliation like that in Moscow and Beijing at a drop of a hat. I’d hate to think what they might do if they are provoked further so tread carefully. We still haven’t had a list of their demands and we can only assume at this stage that they are waiting for our Politicians to all come to some cooperative agreement on the issue. Thank you for your time and we will reconvene when we have some positive news.”

“Excuse me Mr. Chairman,” said the delegate from India. “I have just had a message from our office that one of our missing engineers had attended a funeral of an uncle in Delhi and appeared at ease in the company. That’s all the message says.”

“We will extend our coverage of relatives based on this information,” added the representative from US to the accompanying nodding of heads from around the table.

It was some two months later that Greg and Roland were parked in a farm gateway in rural Wiltshire, in the middle of the night. To keep awake they sipped cans of Red Bull and nibbled on sandwiches bought from a motorway services. They were on a surveillance and photographic mission trying to capture images of badgers. They had set up a series of automatic cameras surrounding a lair and were monitoring their activity from the comfort of their Range Rover.

“So, what’s been happening since this organisation had published their long list of demands,” asked Greg. “Tell me what you know so far or at least what you are allowed to tell me.”

“Not a lot more than you have gleaned from the internet Greg,” answered Roland rubbing his eyes. “They publish their progress on their website anyway. As you know Congress decided to ignore the demands for all nations to reduce their defence spending by half and this terrorist organisation closed down Wall Street computer systems for a whole day. Cost the US billions and no one as yet found how they did it.”

“Is it true that a dozen huge arms dumps in Russia have been blown up because Kremlin were slow in applying the same deal?” asked Greg.

“Uhugh, although Kremlin is secretive as to how much damage that caused,” replied Roland. The worst threat has been in North Korea. The autopilots of a fleet of six military transport planes on a training mission had been tampered with so that the planes were made to land without their undercarriage down, totally destroyed the planes but fortunately the pilots and crew survived.”

“Is it true that the countrywide power blackout was to do with reluctance of the British Government to abandon the Trident submarine project,” asked Greg. “I haven’t picked up yet on the significance of that.”

“Not only that, they demanded that we stop all arms sales. That’s going to cost the economy a fortune,” stated Roland. “You know that they have demanded that the press and media are to stop calling it a ‘terrorist’ organisation and publishing false news. The press has been speculating as to who is behind this group and conspiracy theories abound.”

“Do your people have any idea who they are?” asked Greg as the monitor pinged showing a fox inspecting the lair and then slinking off. “They seem very well organised to be able to make threats to governments and carry them out with impunity.”

“They are also very knowledgeable about the workings of our governments and the secret services,” stated Roland as the monitor pinged to show a family of badgers returning home. “Look, the big daddy is getting agitated. I suppose he has picked up the scent of the fox. Look how the mummy is ushering the kids into the safety of the lair.”

“Well, that’s it for tonight. There won’t be anymore activity now,” stated Greg despondently, “We might as well pack up our gear and head back home. Not a lot to show for our time here but I may be able to stitch together some other footage I’ve got. Sufficient to make up part of a programme.”

  

“Right gentleman,” said the Chairman of the special COBRA committee. “We have been meeting regularly for six months and we still haven’t discovered the source of this threat. The PM is threatening to sack the lot of us and the press is having a field day at our incompetence and also stringing together false conspiracy theories that are just frightening the populace as a whole. Does anybody have anything new to add to the table?  Yes Richard.”

“Nothing new I’m afraid but I have been working closely with the FBI and they have even less information than we do. They are concerned that anytime they do anything to provoke these people there is a drastic reaction. They pretended to close down their tank manufacturing in Utah by secretly just upping their quota in Illinois. You can guess what happened? A major military arms dump in Illinois was destroyed in flames and a warning appeared on their website.”

“Yes Alan?”

“Moscow reported the same. By moving rocket production this organisation retaliated and actually blew up a hundred-kilometre section of the railroad to this facility with further warnings. Not only do they have amazing insight into what the governments are planning they have the capability to destroy huge installations at will.”

“Yes Malcolm?”

    “This is happening all over the world. The Chinese have spent a colossal time checking all of their military installations and have discovered twenty which have been sabotaged in some way, or at least they have discovered the bombs that could destroy these facilities. The organisation just reported that they have only found a fraction of such planted devices. Geoffrey what have you discovered in the UK?”

“Well, you all know about it. We discovered one device planted at Farnborough and we were promptly told that we had missed two more. We are still searching for them. This could be a wild goose chase but my department are afraid that if we give up there could be some retaliation. This is from the top. The PM doesn’t want any more sabotage in the UK for understandable political reasons. She has personally invited the heads of the media to a secret conference where the PM will spell out they are to cut down or even cut out any fearful stories.”

“Thanks Geoffrey but their website has already picked upon that and is quoting the Freedom of the Press Act,” replied the Chairman. “Who is leaking this information? We must find them and find them quickly.”

“Please Mr. Chairman we have done the usual trick of giving senior people different information to root out the informers and it’s come to nought. These people seem to have a sixth sense as what we are up to. I don’t want to be paranoid but it could be someone in this room.”

“OK, OK, we haven’t achieved much here,” said the Chairman looking decidedly forlorn. “Let close the meeting and I want something concrete for tomorrow or heads will roll. Robert, stay behind for a moment.” As the people left the room quickly, Robert walked up to the desk where the Chairman had his head in his hands looking profoundly worried. “Now Robert, you have been in this from the start. Some even think you are directly involved but you have been through the rigorous clearance procedure, more than once. Has our only lead, this Greg fellow given any hints. He’s been under constant surveillance but I hear he is a clever customer.”

“Yes Mr. Chairman, he has been under rigorous surveillance and we have got nothing out of him. We have tried every tactic under the sun short of torture but we believe he is clean. Yes, he is extremely intelligent and clever with computer technology but we can’t pin a thing on him. He’s currently at a birthday party at Roland’s house relaxing, teaching that surly teenager girl of his something on the computer. Roland tells me it must be something to do with the dark web because she has been as good as gold for the last two hours.”

“This is dispiriting! How and when do we get a breakthrough on this?”

Greg was at Roland’s house, attending a birthday barbeque for Gail, his youngest daughter’s birthday. Apart from entertaining the adults he caught the imagination of the children by telling them that he was a suspected criminal spy and that Roland was his prison warden for the time being. 

“Hey Greg, many thanks for keeping Sonia and her friends amused. She can be bit of a handful and spoil the party at a drop of a hat, and of course Gail just worships the ground she walks on. As a parent I’m not sure I should condone you teaching them how to go on the dark web but the missus overheard you discussing grooming on the web with them and how to combat it. She wants you to give a talk on the subject at the next meeting of her Housewife Register group.”

“I’m not sure I’m that competent on the subject, just a few obvious pointers and a choice of replies that they should use. Don’t worry about the dark web, Sonia has her brownie points but I doubt she could access it herself. They are using my phone and it has a number of short cuts. I hope you don’t mind me downloading some games for Charlie.”

“Yeh, yeh, and he’s full of bluff that these were illegal downloads that his friends haven’t got yet. He’s going to be ‘numero uno’ in his class. Can we book you in for each party we have in future?”

“Look Roland, I know you are doing your job but you have been very sympathetic to my cause. You have been looking after me like a brother and it must be taking its toll with you family, being away 24/7.”

“Hey, don’t you worry Greg, this has been one of my better assignments. My boss said go softly, softly and catch ye monkey but that hasn’t worked so far. You seem clean as a whistle so I don’t know how long they want to continue this surveillance on you?”

“I suspect that the powers to be feel that they are doing something with their only lead and to be truthful I have enjoyed your company. It’s been far from intrusive. What does your wife think of the wildlife clips that you have sent her that we together have captured?”

“You’re too kind Greg. She loves them particularly where you have included my gasps and exclamations when we saw some incredible sights. She thinks that they are more realistic than normally shown on TV. She also likes your quirky commentary. Just be warned, you’re going to be in demand. Her elderly father saw a few clips and he has booked you in for a session with the U3A, University of the Third Age, wildlife group.”

“That’s very kind of you but are you aware of any progress in discovering who this group might be and who the individuals are?”

“I’m not that high up the food chain but as far as I know they and other worldwide security organisations haven’t come up with a dicky bird. The problem is that they know what all Governments and their security services are up to and react with a bombing here and a transport disruption there if they veer away from their demands. The doubling the strength of the UN has done wonders for its powers around the world. The main thing is that all the cold wars have subsided and for once there is total cooperation to find the common enemy.”

“I thought that in these situations you followed the money. These people must have vast resources.”

“That’s what everyone though but it has been a dead end. The thinking now is that the money comes from one of these global companies that are in cahoots with this secret society. They have penetrated the depths of Governments, Military and Media and we can’t flush them out. No one has found a planted nuclear device but the world knows that sixty of them are missing and wondering in whose hands they are.”

“Their demands are so specific on their website as if they are looking over the shoulder of the decision makers.”

“We are all spooked and all Governments are walking on eggshells afraid of doing something wrong and upsetting this group. Their retaliation is fierce as was shown by their attack on the Taliban stronghold where they wiped out most of their leadership in one go. How on hell did they get that sort of intelligence and redirect all those cruise missiles the Americans were testing in Iraq, frightening. Sorry Greg but Sarah is beckoning to you to take over barbie duty. It seems illicit burgers are tastier.  Talk later, I have to fill up the glasses.”

“Hey, who is taking us home with all the booze in us?”

“You’re staying over tonight. I’ll have to handcuff you to the bed head. Not joking. The PM would have her ass kicked if you suddenly disappeared. There’s at least five security cars patrolling the perimeter of this house at this very moment. Go on, off you go and do your duty at the barbie.”  

It was two years to the exact date that they had the first letter from the secret organisation calling itself Action For World Peace. The Cobra meeting was in session and the Chairman was again in despair about the lack of progress in uncovering even one member of that group. “Well to sum up on this anniversary, all I can say is that this secret organisation have achieved their goals whilst we weren’t able under conventional means. The war in Afganistan has ceased and the Taliban have lost their power. The Rohingya enclave in Myanmar has been established by peaceful means and repatriation on a massive scale is taking place. Iran is no longer supporting any insurgent groups and peace is developing in the Middle East. Even Israel is knocking down its wall and recognising Palestine. Turkey and Morocco are applying for membership of the EU. I could go on and on but much of this has gone about because we have strengthened the UN fourfold and their peace keeping forces are more active and aggressive. Cuts in defence spending has improved worldwide economy and arms sales ban has stopped the insurgents getting out of hand. Next month the US is going to tighten its gun controls. They are all frightened of the retaliation that this group can carry out at a drop of a hat. Anybody wants to add anything to that?  Yes Roger.”

“Thank you, Chairman. The problem is that each Government is preening itself that they alone have achieved this peace and prosperity when in fact they have been hiding themselves in bunkers. The sale of nuclear shelters has gone through the roof. We are all benefiting from the action of this group but it seems all governments want to pull them down. If I was the Prime Minister I would simply stay mum on the matter and let them continue policing the world. They are doing a good job and since we all have a common enemy that brings us together, do we really want to go back to the old times. Look at the sudden changes for the better in North Korea, a military take over and democratic elections this year.”

“Yes, yes, Roger, we do have to admit that this has been better for all of us but the powers to be are still concerned about a rogue nuclear explosion which could shatter the peace amongst us. There are still sixty devices out there somewhere, just remember that. On that note we will break and meet up next week, hopefully in the same cheery mood.

“Hey Greg, are you seeing my younger sister?”

“How can I be when I have a gooseberry hanging onto me all the time?”

“What I mean is you two are taking a great interest in each other and she invites herself over every time you are here.”

“Well, I’m only here to help you with your family life. Better here for you than at my place. Your daughter texts her when I’m due here. You should know and yes, I think she is a lovely girl and under different circumstances I would certainly ask her out.”

“Just ascertaining the common interests. Wish you were here more often. You seem to have the knack of keeping the children in check. I’ve touched base on you and they have almost forgotten about you and slackening the surveillance. Maybe soon they will take you off the leash Greg. We’ll all miss you. Mind you, you are always welcome to come and join us any time.”

“That’s gracious of you Roland and I appreciate it. We have been good friends and I would like to be a surrogate uncle to your kids. I like them, also your sister. But I have one bit of news that you and I might find suspicious.”

“What’s that? Have they been in touch?”

“Well not directly but you must know that I have had offers of two huge commissions from the BBC and Disney to produce a series of wildlife documentaries.”

“I did know but I’m not surprised. Look at the huge interest shown in your wildlife You-Tube posts. They have gone viral. We all love them.”

“That may be but I didn’t see myself shooting up into the big world as easily as that.”

“What you’re saying is that you think you have had a leg up from your secret benefactors. You know by telling me this that you have killed your hopes of freedom. I wish you hadn’t told me. I will support you and say that these positions are justified by your talent. The kids see you as the next David Attenborough.”

The following week, at a suddenly arranged Cobra meeting, the Chairman announced the following. “At last, we have had a breakthrough. We have received a notification from what we believe is a whistle blower, to put it in common parlance, the exact location of twenty-six nuclear devices. The search is on in the twenty-six capitals. There is a sort of relief in the camp but it may be short lived since this organisation still has over forty hidden somewhere. As yet, we haven’t had any message on their website. I believe that this is a ploy on their part. All twenty-six governments will announce together, that they have found and defused these devices. That should alleviate the panic in the world. The media have been warned not to publish any frightening conspiracy theories. Our task continues to find the rest and quietly put this to bed.”  

“Can I add a few words Mr. Chairman?”

“No, you can’t Roger. Not at this time. Yes, we know that positive actions have been taken by all affected nations to better mankind but history suggests that we always fall back to war and conflict to sort out our international problems and in the current millennium the various nuclear deterrents have done their work. Apart from sporadic conflicts here and there we have had more peace in the last seventy odd years than at any time in human history. So, let’s be thankful for that. Can I iterate that our task is still unfinished. We must discovery this secret power that has turned the world upside down with nuclear threats. We can only assume that these people have been planted and nurtured to powerful positions many years ago. Why they took action now is still an enigma?”

“What will we do when we find them out?”

“Good question Roger and not easy to answer. If we as an organisation find them, we are not to share this information with any other government or any other security and intelligent services. We will probably just sit on our hands, after all our military might in this world is quite paltry.”

“Might it be worth leaking that sentiment to our only lead, Greg?”

“I’m pretty sure that our members of this secret organisation are capable of working this all out for themselves. Maybe, by now some governments might be in cahoots with them already. Now let’s stop postulating. It hasn’t got us anywhere in the last two years. We will meet up in a fortnight’s time instead of weekly but don’t let that get out to the PM. We all have jobs to get on with and these meetings haven’t raised an iota of information.”   

On leaving the meeting Roger collared his colleague Richard in the corridors of power and suggested to him, “Hey Richard, hear my conspiracy theory. This whole thing has been just too easy for our secret organisation. What if all of our great nation leaders got together in secret some time ago and set this all up and had us all running around like scattered cats to achieve this world peace? I reckon our Cobra Chairman is in on the act and just pushing us along gently to keep up the pretence.”