***
During the past couple of days, Clayton and Marsden had held a series of meetings with Special Branch at the NIPS HQ at Knock, and with colleagues in the SAS detachment based at Bessbrook Mill. Marsden’s Lynx helicopter had already proved its value, and he had proved himself a very able pilot as well, quickly getting to know the geography of the Province. The people they met had already received a limited briefing, and everywhere they went, they found the new secure communications links already in place. London had worked fast. The two officers had been able to agree who was going to do what and when, and in what order actions were going to be taken.
Back at Headquarters, they made their way to Clayton’s office to take stock.
“Anything happening?” asked Bill Clayton, sticking his head round the door of the Registry.
“Not that you’d notice,” replied Captain Brian Foley. “You two really seem to be stirring things up.”
“That’s what we’re paid to do,” replied Nick Marsden.
“A colleague of yours has turned up, Commander,” said Foley. “Wilson’s taken him down to the Sergeant’s Mess for a meal, but he’s got himself a billet at Aldergrove. Chief Petty Officer Sid Rudkin.”
“Sid’s a good egg,” announced Marsden. “He’ll look after the chopper and anything else we want. If you see him before we do, Brian, you might tell him it’s on the playing field and that he can take it back to Aldergrove anytime he likes. I’ll get in touch with him later.”
“Aye, aye Sir,” said Foley, cheekily. “And there was a message from Downing Street on the new hot line, to say that McFosters has gone.”
“Gone?” they chorused.
“Gone,” repeated Captain Foley. “Apparently left Belfast for Washington, and never arrived.”
“Ah!” said Clayton, nodding. “Anything else?”
“Your Minister friend, James Anchor, rang. Sergeant Wilson spoke to him, but he’s apparently off to the States soon for a long spell of leave. Not been well recently, so it seems.”
The new secure phone rang.
“It’s Downing Street again, wanting you Major,” said Foley.
“I'll take it in my office.”
The two men hurried off.
It was Sir Robin Algar.
“Things have started to happen, so I thought I should keep you up to date,” he told Clayton.
“I’ve heard about McFosters,” Bill Clayton responded.
“The Americans did a good job there,” said Algar, “although I’m not quite sure how they pulled it off. We’ve got our man working on your list of accounts - started this morning. When he’s not at the Bank, he’s in solitary in Pentonville, and when he is in the Bank, he’s got two armed guards with him, everything he does - every keystroke on the computer - is recorded, and every move he makes is monitored. He’s not allowed to talk to anyone, so we’re pretty sure nothing will leak.”
“Poor sod!” said Clayton.
“He wants a Royal Pardon, too!” said Robin Algar. “He’s been told we’ll take good care of him when he’s finished.”
“I know what you mean,” said Clayton.
“Finally, two things on the political front. President Minton is having talks with the Taoiseach, Michael O’Leary, at Camp David in a few days, and the PM is going to be there as well. The Constitutional Committee is being set up and will be convening in a week or so probably. Your man James Anchor is on it.”
“Where will they meet?”
“Oddly enough, in Honolulu,” replied Algar. “The Americans are confining them to their huge air base at Hickham, and they will be kept more or less isolated from the outside world until they’ve finished, or until the three Governments have gone public.”
“Nice touch, that,” said Clayton.
“But everything now hangs on the meeting at Camp David, as far as the politics of it all is concerned,” continued Sir Robin. “I’ll let you know how that goes when I hear.”
“More importantly,” said Clayton, “I simply must know how your man gets on at the Bank. Will you be able to let me know, or shall I liaise with Alistair?”
“Alistair will know before I do,” replied Algar.
“I’ll keep in touch with him direct, then,” said Bill Clayton. “Things are moving here, too. We are about ready to start serious business now we know McFosters has gone, and there will be a series of raids as well in the next day or so on arms caches, mostly in private homes. Cmdr. Marsden has been in touch with the Americans about the big dump down south, and we can be ready to take that out by the time of Seamus O’Hara’s next visit, which will probably be early next week. The US Navy has offered one of their latest submarine launched cruise missiles, subject to Pentagon approval, and I’ll let you know if there’s any help we need in getting that. I’ll need a chap down there to work the laser range finder, so I need to know whether the Irish authorities have been told to expect the big bang, or whether we shall be acting totally covertly.”
“Leave that to me,” said Sir Robin Algar.
Things were certainly moving fast now, and the whole military side of the operation already seemed almost un-stoppable.
Major Bill Clayton rang Alistair Vaughan at the Bank of England.