end and hard copies would be made. Within minutes Elizabeth and Lynn would have my nice holiday snaps of Sarah and her two playmates on their desks.
After transmission, I switched off the phone to save the battery. It was pointless leaving it on; they weren't going to get back to me straightaway.
If they did, the phone's message service would intercept the call anyway, so no problems. I was in no rush; even if they said, 'End-ex,' I couldn't come out of here until nightfall.
Events had moved on since my briefing. I tried to imagine what would be going on in London. Elizabeth would probably be at home, as it was the weekend. A car would be sent to her country seat to bring her to the operations room in Northolt, North London. The opening scene of James Bond's Tomorrow Never Dies, with large screens and computer projections on VDUs, wasn't that far from the truth. The people receiving my int wouldn't have a clue what it was about, or whom it was from. Elizabeth would lock herself away with Lynn somewhere and look at it, probably complaining that it had taken me so long, and then drink some more tea.
From what I could remember, it seemed very fashionable to drink a herbal blend at the moment. But not her, she'd be throwing Earl Gray down her neck. Meanwhile, I waited out in this hole.
Elizabeth, not Lynn, would make the decision on what I was to do next.
I wished again that I knew who she was; I hated it when people had so much power over me, and I didn't know who had given it to them or why.
I had my fingers crossed that they wouldn't want a technical device put in to find out who these people were and what they were up to, because that would entail me doing a CTR (close target reconnaissance) to help whoever was being sent to do the job. That would mean getting into the house and working out the best way to bring the technical device in, as well as describing the makeup of the general area, the size of the house, how many stories, the kind of doors, the kind of locks. A locks recce is a task in itself; it means going right up to the door or window to study them in detail. Sometimes you put a little bit of talcum powder on the lock, then press Plasticine into the keyway, pull it out and put it in a secure container so you can take imprints later. Then, of course, you have to remember to remove all the dust from the lock.
A CTR has to answer every conceivable question that might be asked by a third party who's been tasked with making entry. Are the windows locked? What is the area of clear glass? Of frosted glass? What are the main access routes to and from the target? Is the target overlooked by any buildings? Are there any garages or outbuildings or car parking spaces?
How many doors are secured, how many are loose? Do they make a noise when they open? They would need to know to take in some oil, to stop any creaking.
Are there any good approach routes? Any major obstacles? Is there lighting? What are the weather conditions like? What are the routes to the target? What's the general condition of those routes? What would you need to get to the target? What type of ground ploughed, pasture, boggy? What sort of natural obstacles are there? What is the time and distance from the DOP (drop off point)? Where is the DOP? Are there any animals about? Dogs, horses, geese? And that was assuming I could get onto the target at all, past the proximity lights.
The list of questions can seem endless, especially when you're two hours into a CTR, first light is approaching and you seem to be only a third of the way down the list. Where are the best places to put OPsin? In this particular case, that was easy: I was in it. Where would be the best place to put long-range technical devices in for a video soak? That would be somewhere over on the other side of the lake. Could we have a helicopter trigger? Could we have a helicopter that just flies around maybe three or four Ks out?
Once I'd gathered all that information on the exterior, I would have to CTR inside the house. For that I'd need to take in an infrared camera, or buy commercially available infrared niters to fit my camera, so that I could take pictures without disturbing the people in residence. They'd want to know the full real estate agent's monty. What are the dimensions and layouts of every room? Where is the electrical supply? If you're putting listening or picture devices in, batteries last only so long, so you might have to tap into the mains. Where is the best place to put a listening device? And that might entail looking at the direction of the floorboards, because if you're trying to hide an antenna, you'd put it in the gaps between them; but that also means taking a compass bearing of the floorboards, so the scaleys (communications personnel) can work out their antenna theory.
Stuff like this takes days and days to organize, and it would be my job to stay and wait with eyes on target while everything was prepared. If my stores ran out I would have to be resupplied via a dead letterbox and outside help and even that would be a pain in the ass to sort out.
As far as I was concerned, my job was now finished. I'd found Sarah and confirmed it with photography. I didn't want to be a part of anything that happened next.
I cut away from it by thinking about a job I'd done in the jungle once.
We'd got to our report line, it was pouring down with rain and we were gagging for a hot brew, which we couldn't sort out because we were on hard routine. We transmitted our sit rep, something to the effect of 'We are at the river head, what now?'
We were told, 'Wait out.'
About four hours later they came back to us and said, 'OP any track.'
What the fuck did they mean, OP any track? What good would that do us? We asked, 'What track?'
They came back, 'OP any track that runs west to east.'
They had to be mad. We sent back: 'We can't find one running west to east. However, we've found one running east to west and we're going to OP that one.'
All we got back was, 'East-west is good, out.' Either they were taking the piss, or the world's most useless officer was manning the desk that night. We never found out which. You never do.
Nothing was happening. Even the fishermen had gone back to their tents for lunch.
I'd just decided it was pizza time, and was about to reach for one of my wraps when I heard movement on the ground, and soon afterward, rapid, heavy breathing.
The distinctive, metallic tinkle of a name tag on a collar became louder as the dog got nearer. I hadn't seen anything around the target that identified it as having a dog, so it probably wasn't from the house. But the name tag meant the animal was domestic, and that meant there would probably be people with it.
I began to hear aggressive sniffing; seconds later, a wet, dirty nose was nudging the hide. Maybe he was a fan ofWal-Mart's Four Seasons.
I moved my hand slowly to my pocket, easing out the Tazer and the pepper spray. I didn't know if the pepper would work on dogs; they can be immune to some of this shit. One thing I knew for sure: he wouldn't enjoy the Tazer. But then again, the yelping would alert everybody and what if the shock killed him stone dead? I would have to drag him in with me and have a smelly, wet and very dead dog as my new best mate.
The sniffing seemed just inches from my ear. This dog was excited; it knew it could be din-dins time.
A young woman called, 'Bob! Where are you? Here, Bob!' I recognized the voice.
Bob carried on sniffing around the OP. Straightaway I thought, I'm a British journalist working for a tabloid newspaper. I'm doing a story on the famous people hiding in the house, and I want to get pictures of their illicit affair. I'll jump straight in with questions before they can ask any.
Do you know anything about them? Do you live around here? You could make a lot of money if you tell us what you know about them ... The brain has two orbs. One side processes numbers and analyzes information, the other is the creative bit, where we visualize things and if you visualize situations, you can usually work out in advance how to deal with them. The more you visualize, the better you will deal with them. It might sound like something from a tree buggers' workshop, but it does the business.
My eyes were glued to the target, but my ears were with the dog. It's nearly always this sort of third-party shit that compromises you, and dogs can be the worst of all. They can detect your every breath and movement from as much as a mile away under favorable conditions which it seemed I had given him. Dogs have very poor eyesight, only half as good as man's, but their hearing is twice as good. The wind was blowing from the lake toward the dog. He might have heard me, but I was sure it was an odor that was attracting him. It's not just food smells that provide a target;
so does body odor, or clothing, especially if it's wet. Soap, deodorant, leather, tobacco, polish, gas and many others are all a giveaway you name it. Who knows what it was in this case.
The more Bob sniffed, the more I came to the conclusion that he was after the pizza. No matter how much I'd wrapped it up, his nose wasn't fooled. Cannabis smugglers wrap eucalyptus leaves around their stuff to put off sniffer dogs, but it doesn't work: the mutts can smell both at the same time and know they're going to get a nice
