The Shepherd – Hefted (Chapters 6 & 7)

Chapter 6 – Wednesday afternoon

‘Call the commander.’ Paul Foster leaned over Keith Ford’s console. ‘He needs to get back here, as soon as possible.’

The Chief Communications Officer didn’t even acknowledge the order, his fingers even as Foster spoke activating the emergency call signal to Alec Freeman’s mobile.

‘Damn.’ Alec, his fingers on the neat package of photographs in his jacket pocket, pulled his hand free and grabbed his mobile from his hip pouch. He flicked it open with an apologetic grimace at the two women. ‘Freeman.’

Sara and Rebecca exchanged glances as he spoke, his voice quiet yet urgent, before closing the phone and standing.

‘I’m sorry, I have to go. There’s an emergency at the studios. Sara. I’ll call you later, and Miss Steel?’ he held out his hand to shake hers. A firm handshake, confident and assured, ‘Get in touch. I am serious about wanting to help you.’ And then he was walking away, out of the cafe onto the pavement where a car was pulling up alongside, the door opening even as it slowed down. As soon as he was inside and the door closed, it drove off at speed, dark tinted windows hiding him from view.

‘Report.’ His voice was curt, and with more than a hint of concern. It was not like Paul to call him in for a simple incursion. There must be a problem. And Alec wondered exactly what else he was going to have to deal with now. It had been two days since Ed’s funeral and the memory was still a raw open wound, catching sharp edges on his consciousness when he least expected. And he knew that even after the scab had formed, even then, that deep pain would never really heal, never close over.

‘One UFO sir, detected by scanners. The location is somewhat close to home which is why headquarters wanted you back as soon as possible,’ his driver said, passing a computer pad over. It took just a couple of seconds for the SHADO Commander to orientate himself.

‘Bloody hell. Thames estuary. And this has just been picked up by our scanners?’ Alec grabbed the carphone. ‘Paul. What’s the situation?’

‘It’s been motionless since it registered on our monitors Commander. Sky One will be in position soon and all available ground forces are moving into position as we speak. From the data we have available it looks as if this UFO has been hiding in the area for well over a week.’

‘Explain.’ This was no time for politeness.

There have been no sightings for at least five days and the last was over the mid Pacific and was destroyed. Prior to that there were several incursions over Western Europe in the three days before .. before…’ Foster stopped speaking.

Alec sighed, ‘Yes, before Ed died. Yes. Thank you Paul. So, we are presuming that this UFO evaded our defences and has been hiding in the North Sea?’

‘We think possibly with the intention of capturing Straker. Something must have gone wrong and they can’t leave. Why else would they still be here? I’ve given Sky One instructions to destroy it, unless you think we should wait?’

‘No, go ahead Colonel. I’ll be there in about ten minutes. Tell Waterman to seek and destroy. You’d better get the Prime Minister on the phone. He will need to be informed about this. Oh and Paul?’

‘Yes, Commander?’

‘Good call.’ And Commander Alec Freeman put the phone down, with a sigh of regret tinged with relief. At least they didn’t get you Ed. At least you died quickly. He flicked through the constantly updating reports as the car drove on, his mind filled with the image of Ed walking to his own car on that last night, with the two guards waiting for him and Straker’s despondency at the constrictions on his freedom. And for what. Two highly trained agents and still the enemy managed to get their target.

The car pulled under the portico of Harlington Straker Studios and stopped. He sighed, opened the door and stepped out into the real world.

The executive office was unchanged, Straker’s presence everywhere, his favourite pen on the desk, his choice of art work on the walls. Alec Freeman looked around the room. It was a museum, a shrine to the former studio head and he shivered with apprehension. He still had all those mundane yet unpleasant tasks that needed to be done; clearing Straker’s life from the isolated and austere house where he had lived since his divorce, the practicalities of sorting through his friend’s cupboards, disposing of those few personal items that Ed had accumulated, had treasured. This office was another room that needed to be cleansed. To have those painful reminders taken away. Not that Alec Freeman wanted to remove the memories, it was simply more than he could bear, seeing the constant shadowy presence there, in the corner of his eye.

‘Freeman.’

‘Voice Print Identification Positive. Commander Freeman,’

He walked through to the Control Room. Paul was standing by the computer console and overseeing the operation , following the readouts with eagle-sharp eyes. Alec cast a quick eye over the data; Sky One in position and coming in to attack. There was no point in disrupting the intense silence with questions, it was better to let them get on with it, let them blast the damned invaders to hell. He stood, arms folded and not intruding, appreciative of the calm efficiency of the staff. Damn. Ed had taught them well.

Alec was just now beginning to appreciate how hard Straker had worked to get SHADO to this level, and at what cost. Today was just another day in SHADO, regardless of any disruption in his own life. Leaning back against the cold concrete walls, he waited, his mind relaxed as the team in the control room acted like a well-trained synchronised ballet, their actions choreographed to perfection.

Sara. He must remember to contact her after this was all over. It had been a mistake meeting her in a cafe. He wanted to talk to her about Ed, to show her the photographs and try to explain to her exactly what his friend was like. Not the computer driven machine that so many people saw, no, he wanted to show her the human Ed, the man who cared about his staff, who grieved in silence when any of them died. And so many of them had died over the long years. Ed Straker cold and heartless? Never.

Fragments of memories sparkled in Alec Freeman’s mind as he waited, patient and calm, while the control room staff, his staff now, plotted the track of the UFO, and calculated its destruction with an implacable hatred that he could almost smell. They too, had cared for their former commander, and they too wanted their revenge.

As for Sara, well, he would ask her to come to his house. Tomorrow night maybe. After this was all over and he had wreaked his revenge on the aliens. So he waited, in the background, visualising that tall figure walking through the room, pale hair glinting under the fierce lighting.

‘UFO destroyed, Commander.’ A quiet congratulatory voice.

‘Good. Send in the clearance teams. Tell them I want a detailed report as soon as possible and give everyone my thanks for a job well done.’ Alec nodded to Paul before heading for his office, one hand checking to ensure that the package of photographs were still tucked safely away in his pocket.

Chapter 7 – Wednesday pm

The aliens had not contacted Mason since that second meeting. He had spent two terrified days waiting for their next communication, trembling with sweat-cold fear whenever he picked up his house phone, expecting to hear another warbled and distorted message instructing him to appear at the rendezvous point. He had no idea how the messages arrived, or how they were in English; fragmented, almost schoolboy English to be sure. But still his own language. Spoken in an alien accent, in an alien voice. And that in itself was sufficient to scare him. The hissed sibilants, the elongated vowels, all in that monotone sound that made his very skin crawl.

They had never spoken directly to Mason, had never even acknowledged his presence and his investigations into those aliens that had been captured alive by SHADO revealed that none had never uttered any sound other than a death scream. His mind recoiled from the thought of what they had taken from humans in order to create the ability to speak, even with such mispronounced vocalisations. Or even worse, what they had done to the victims that they had taken alive.

But the aliens had not contacted him, had not been seen since. And now Mason had received word from his contact in SHADO that the organisation had destroyed a UFO. What the hell had happened? Straker was at large but his whereabouts unknown, his situation unknown and his condition unknown. The UFO, and its entire crew no doubt had been blasted into pieces and was probably already being picked over by scavengers from SHADO.

So, all he had to do now was to find Straker before the supposedly dead man reappeared and pointed the finger of blame squarely in Mason Rimmer’s direction. It was going to be hard, but not impossible. A career in SIS had ensured that Mason had access to all the most vital databases, apart from SHADOs records.

But that didn’t matter, Mason had already gathered all the necessary data on the SHADO commander, from medical records to his biometric passport details, all legally and above board. After all, it had been the SIS officer’s role to organise the protection team for Straker.

Mason laughed, but there was no mirth in the sound, just mockery. He would start with the hospital and police records beginning from that night. He would find Straker and do what the aliens had failed to do.

Switching on his laptop, he linked into the secure SIS line and started work. It took longer than he had thought. It would have been easier had Ed Straker been a terrorist or a wanted criminal. His name and description would have been on every database, on every police list. SHADO hadn’t been looking for their Commander; Straker was to all intents and purposes dead. And they had moved on.

But Straker was not dead, he was missing. If the real Ed Straker had died as well, and his also discovered, then all hell would have broken out. His DNA, his profile, his fingerprints, everything about the man was on the main Alert Status database.

So Straker had to still be alive. For now. Somewhere out there, just one man among many. London was swamped with those who had left their humdrum lives and escaped to the capital, hoping to find a fresh start, or a new identity. Perhaps Straker was hiding among the dregs of society. If so, why? Why had he not come back to SHADO? What was he waiting for?

It was going to take time to find him though. Damn.

He would have to trawl through police records and hospital records, and that was not as simple as it seemed. With a silent prayer to whichever gods might be listening, Mason hacked into the City of London police files and began the task. If Straker had been picked up in the immediate area then the records would be there.

File after file, record after record. His eyes burned with the monotony of the endless pages of minute details; stopped, searched, arrested. No one by the name of Straker and no one answering his description either.

Mason moved on, dredging the reports from Transport police, then the Metropolitan Police. He paused to refill his coffee, to rub tired bleary eyes, to take a leak, but the computer called him back like a siren, dragging him to his seat, to fumble with tired fingers on the sticky mouse, the pages scrolling down like a waterfall of words.

He almost missed it. That single phrase: Male, age approx 40, height 6ft, distinctive features: light blond hair. Identity: unknown. Found Hounslow.

Mason read on. Straker. It had to be him. It all fitted. The date, the time, the description, the fact that the man was suffering from amnesia…. he didn’t bother reading on, there was no point. Amnesia. Straker would have been taken to the nearest casualty department.

He sat back, shaking with relief. Now it was just a case of phoning the hospital in Hounslow to get the details and then a quick visit to ‘collect’ his missing friend and it would all be over. He could dump Straker’s body in the same place as Locke and Patterson. Easy. He wiped his hands on his thighs to still their trembling and to dry them, before he began the task of deleting all the data from the police records. He certainly didn’t want anyone else find Straker by accident or even by design.

He set to work, ensuring that all the files were wiped, all references and links were obliterated, even the ones relating to the discovery of Straker’s body in the alleyway. There, done. Straker was now his for the taking.

It was time for another drink. An alcoholic one this time, then tomorrow, after some sleep, he would phone the hospital, and for the first time in several days Mason Rimmer smiled with relief.

 

Alec Freeman was smiling as well. A successful attack on the UFO, with no witnesses. Waterman had used his discretion, allowing the craft to get into the cloud layer and over the sea before he got missile lock and obliterated the spinning invader. The only disadvantage was that the debris was scattered and probably too small to be of any use. Still, the important thing was that it had been destroyed. The first analysis from the clean-up team would be here soon, and Freeman was hoping that there wouldn’t be any indication of human remains in the craft. It was bad enough that the UFO had managed to remain hidden for so long. If the aliens had taken any captives, well, at least they were dead now.

‘Sir.’ Ford interrupted his thoughts. ‘The report.’ The communications officer handed Freeman a slim folder and waited.

Freeman leafed through, scanning the pages. One deep breath of regret. ‘David Locke’s DNA. Poor bastard. At least Ed didn’t die like that, ripped apart in agony.’ He looked up, eyes dark with sadness. ‘Thank you Keith, I think I’ll get off home shortly. It’s been a long day.’

Once Keith had gone back to the control room Alec Freeman picked up the phone, dialled and waited, his fingers even now reaching to touch that small packet of photographs safe inside his jacket.

‘Sara? Alec here. Sorry about this afternoon.’ He paused, considering, then smiled again, ‘Look, would you like to come to my place tomorrow evening? I can show you the photographs, talk about Ed if you are still interested and we can get a take-away.’

There was silence. He tightened his lips. Then, sounding a little breathless, she answered.