Curtis Woodman Ch. 03

Even with the lump in his throat, he answered Becky as best he could.

"That's why I'm here, Munchkin. But you need to give me a little time to find them and tell them, okay?"

Becky nodded her head, gave Rick a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek. She waved at her mom as she sat staring at her, before sliding her hand into Sarah's and all three left the room.

Ruth watched through the open door as all three walked down the corridor. Her own hand grasping that of her husband.

"Well, I'll be damned. That's the most she's said about all this since she found out that Curtis was in hospital."

"The resilience of children Ruth. They see and seem to know more than they let on. When we think we're protecting them by not telling them something, all we're doing is making ourselves look like idiots."

Ruth nodded but held her husband's hand just a little tighter, knowing that when he's better, she's going to have the same conversation with him that she had just had with Rick. Her gaze once again rested on her husband and her hand holding his, ever so gently.

"I know what he does Rick, but I share with the other wives every fear when they leave until they come back. Then I see it all close up and personal. When those fake Police Officers ambushed us, he had me in the car and was taking the bullets for me."

Ruth's gaze finally left her husband and she glanced towards the door before she looked towards Rick once again.

"I hear JoJo is back, I know that's why you're here as well. Find them Rick, hurt them as bad as they have hurt my husband. I place my husband on top of any situation that could be deemed a fair fight, but these cowards ambushed us to gain the upper hand."

The emotion of the moment was taking its toll on her and she stood, Rick did as well, and both hugged. Her emotions finally tipped her towards a torrent of tears, not three feet from his best friend and her husband.

Rick stayed until Ruth had calmed; not an easy thing to do, when you consider her husband was still fighting for his own life just a few feet away from them both.

Without being asked, Ruth told him of that day; starting from the afternoon of shopping, then the journey home, and the nagging feeling that wouldn't leave her. The phone call to Curtis to talk about those feelings, and Curtis telling her he would be leaving the camp now. They would both go over the route she had taken in the hope that something else would jog her memory.

Little did either of them know just how up close and personal that journey would become. All Ruth could remember was being stopped by blue lights in the mirror. The Police Officer that walked up to the car that late autumn evening, and Curtis suddenly stiffening in his seat. The conversation was neutral to begin with, but Curtis's attention was on something on the officer's hand, a tattoo that was just as strange as it was fierce looking.

Curtis's conversation went from English to French halfway through and the Police Officer answered Curtis's question in French. When he realized his mistake, he reached for his sidearm. Curtis had already got his own Sig in his hand and had placed the car into reverse. When Curtis yelled that she was to crawl into the foot-well, she did as she was told. The gun battle raged over her head.

"It was the stopping talking to him mid-sentence and then continuing in French that started all this Rick."

Rick turned all this over in his mind. In the end he decided he needed to talk to Freddy and JoJo before he could voice his own doubts about all this. He hugged Ruth and told her he would see her again, real soon.

*******

"One of the group is French."

JoJo looked at him, then shook her head.

"No, he's not, he was born a Belgium national. He joined the French Foreign Legion at eighteen, did fifteen years in the Legion, married a French girl, but that didn't last."

Rick looked long and hard at JoJo. Something just didn't fit right into this conversation, so he tried another tack, hoping his hunch was wrong.

"Ruth says he mumbles, talks gibberish, although she catches the odd Russian word in there as well."

JoJo went back to typing on the laptop in front of her. After a few seconds of frantic activity, her fingers stopped, and she once again turned her attention back to Rick.

"It's not gibberish, it is actually Russian. Two of the group are ex-Spetsnaz."

JoJo turned her attention to them both and said, "Somehow, he realized who the Belgium guy was. When he did that, he also knew who the others were and why they were in the process of slowly surrounding the car. He had his wife in the car, so Curtis did what he had to, to get them both out of there."

Freddy leaned forward in his seat, hoping against hope that what his instincts were telling him, were wrong. Finally, Rick gave voice to both their thoughts.

"How long have you had a bug in Curtis's room?"

JoJo resumed typing, but both heard her say that the bug was in place while he was still in initial surgery. To emphasize her point, her hand pulled her hair back and pulled a flesh-colored bud from her ear. She placed it on a silver tray that had a wire connecting it to her laptop for power, and soft singing came from the tray. Ruth was singing a lullaby to her husband, over twenty miles away, and yet the sound made it feel like she was actually in the room.

Rick's eyes never left JoJo's. "So, you can take the girl out of 12th Intel. But you can't take 12th Intel out of the girl."

Both suddenly stood, catching Freddy off guard for the briefest of seconds.

"Stand down. BOTH of you."

The pause was only because both parties hadn't quite finished weighing up the other.

"So help me I will fucking shoot you both and claim it was an accident if you both don't sit the fuck down."

They sat; both weren't happy about even doing that much.

"Rick, I'm going with JoJo on this one. Short of having someone sit in the corner of the room every day and night, it's the only non-invasive way I can think of doing this."

To fend off any argument from Rick, Freddy turned to JoJo and asked who else had access to the listening device.

JoJo answered but kept her eyes locked on Rick. "Just me, I have a blocker on the frequency so no one can eaves drop, and I will know if anyone even attempts too."

Still not satisfied with her answer, Freddy tried another question.

"So, who authorized the bugging of Curtis's room?"

JoJo still had her eyes on Rick. To her, he was still the main threat in this room.

"General Brownlow authorized it. The Home Office signed off on it and 12th Intel supplied the manpower and equipment to get it all up and running."

This time she looked directly at Freddy and said. "I just couldn't get near Ruth, Freddy. She was barely holding it together herself when I got to the hospital that day. Any questions I asked her, she seemed to flinch like I was going to pull a gun out and shoot her. I've known her almost as long as Curtis has, but right now, she trusts no one but the couple who used to own the boat club and Maggie."

Her gaze once again rested on Rick, this time her tone had softened. "I'm Unit, from the day I walked onto that rifle range and joined the others, I've been Unit. My Background is 12th Intelligence Regiment, so what? Want me to talk about each and every person's involvement in other regiments before they came to the Unit? The sole purpose of the bug in his room is to find out what he knows and with as little impact on Ruth as possible, so we can find those that did this."

The lullaby had finished now, and Ruth could be heard talking about Becky's day at school and the boat club.

JoJo placed the bud back in her ear and continued. "I promised myself that I would never allow these secrets out and I aim to keep that promise. I have what I need Rick. I know who these people are, but it's now down to you and me to convince General Brownlow that we can kill these people without any collateral damage."

*******

The base commander got his orders delivered to him via a courier who waited in the outer office until the base commander would see him. He was also under orders that, if the commander took longer than twenty minutes to receive his orders, the courier was to contact General Brownlow. He handed them over and saluted the officer, then left the office. The Base commander wasn't expecting anything like this. No traffic on any channel left him feeling that anything was wrong, until the lone motorbike rider came onto RAF Billingly at 0800 that morning and handed him this ticking time bomb.

To make matters worse, the signature at the bottom of the page was that of the Prime Minister himself. He pulled his phone closer to him and made a few calls. By the time he had replaced his phone on his desk from talking to a close friend, who walks the corridors of power in Whitehall, his own phone rang as his hand moved away from it. The number was withheld and that worried him. His phone blocked these types of calls, and yet his phone lit up and rang while still not displaying any number.

"Hello?"

"Good morning. Just so we are both on the same hymn sheet, do you recognize my voice?"

The base commander stiffened, his mind already filling with dread, then said. "Yes, Prime Minister."

"Splendid, splendid." Then the voice went a little colder. "I have just sent for Wing Commander Chadwick. I expect him to be here within the hour. In that same hour, I expect you to summon your second-in-command and hand him the document that was delivered to you this morning. Once you have done that you will phone my office, my secretary will be expecting your call. All she wants to hear is the estimated time of your arrival at my office in Parliament."

As worried for his career as he was, he still managed to say, "Yes Prime Minister" to the voice on the phone.

The voice from afar barely contained the anger in his voice. "How dare you discuss such a sensitive document with anyone other than your second-in-command. Even with my signature on that document, your crass action could well have threatened the security of a very sensitive operation. I'll deal with Wing Commander Chadwick when he gets here. I look forward to seeing you real soon as well."

The phone went silent, not even a click to let him know if anyone had put the phone down. He summoned his second-in-command, sat him down and watched as he read the document he had placed in front of him. Another time perhaps, he would have smiled at the frown he had when he finished reading it.

"It's real. We are to close the airfield to all traffic. If anything leaves here, it goes somewhere else until we open the airfield again. We double the guards, and other than a group that will be arriving here tomorrow, no one is permitted in. Not even supplies for the kitchens, so make sure they have enough to last. All activities around the base are to be cut back to a minimum, again until said group has left."

It was then the base commander stood, his second in command followed his lead. "I'm going to London to explain to the Prime Minister why I have done nothing with regards to this order since I had it in my hands four hours ago."

He looked at his friend and second-in-command. He was heaping a great deal onto his shoulders right now and all of his own doing. He felt for the man in front of him. At least going to face the Prime Minister himself, kept his friend out of the wrath of their own boss.

"James, make this order happen. Do whatever these people want but keep our people away from them as much as you can. The Prime Minister is watching everything that's happening and also not happening." He paused as he mentally looked over his options. "I may see you before we lock down for this group, or I may even be back afterwards to pack up and be transferred to an Igloo at the South Pole."

His second-in-Command saluted and left. The base commander looked out over the base from his window and did indeed wonder if he would see this sight again. He picked up the phone and dialed. The Prime Minister's secretary gave him the location and time to appear in front of the Prime Minister. When she asked if there was anything else she could help him with, he smiled and thought about asking if he would still have a career at the end of his conversation with him.

*******

The view from the Control Tower was stunning, only one person was in the tower. He was sitting at some control panel when Lewis came up the stairs. The airman quickly stood, he wasn't sure if he should stand at attention or just wait and see what happened; his name badge had "Donaldson" on it.

Lewis went up to him and held out his hand. "Since we're going to be here all day, we may as well be introduced. Call me Lewis, everyone else does."

Donaldson shook on it, but Lewis could almost see the questions hovering in the background.

"All I need you to do is monitor the radio traffic. If anything wants to land here, then I will take over. Other than that, just deal with things like everyone's on leave."

Donaldson nodded, and then looked at Lewis once again, trying so hard to find anything that would note the man's rank, or even regiment. Speculation was rife on the base, even more so when they turned up and yet the Base Commander was still absent.

Feeling ever so slightly brave he said. "Sir, are you SAS?"

Lewis laughed, and then shook his head, as he sat next to the airman.

"Gosh no. I'm married."

Donaldson looked at him as confused as he was when the conversation started.

Lewis was sitting on one of the spare seats and rolled it closer to Donaldson, then said, "My wife asked me once if I ever wanted to do SAS selection. When I said I hadn't thought about it, but probably not. Her reply was that's good, it means I don't have to break your leg."

Lewis then roared with laughter, yet Donaldson couldn't see the joke.

Seeing the confusion on the young man's face, he added that when he met his wife he was already in the army. Before she would marry him she was adamant that SHE didn't join the army, HE did, and although she would follow him the ends of the earth, she wanted him back when it was time to leave the army.

"In a sense, we have both made my career choices. She's happy and tells me every single day I'm with her. True love, don't you think?"

Feeling just as confused Donaldson simply added. "But Sir, who are you?"

A hardness came to Lewis's face and the young airman winced.

"I'm a figment of your imagination. In a few hours I simply won't be here, and our paths won't ever cross again. The longer you're in the forces, the more anomalies like me you will meet; and, for the sake of your sanity, and of course, your promotional prospects, you should forget us about as soon as we leave."

Although Donaldson was only just starting his third year in the RAF, he understood a warning, even when it was veiled like that.

For the next hour, and although he desperately tried not to look too often, the main activity of these people was centered on the runway. One man walked almost the full length, then turned and pointed something back down the runway. Moments later he sprayed a line onto the tarmac and walked back. Twenty minutes later a vehicle then drove to the line and four men started stacking sandbags the other side of the line.

Wooden cutouts of figures were then placed on the line and sandbags held them in position. Another person set up cameras off of the runway, looking directly at the wooden figures. He took a moment to focus the cameras and then gave the thumbs up to one of the group. One guy gave each of wooden figures a kick. When they didn't move, he got back into the vehicle with the rest and drove back down the runway.

Donaldson had watched all of this from his elevated position in the control tower. His mouth hung further and further open. Then realization came to him.

"Sir."

"Yes?"

"Sir, I know the full length of this runway, we all have to, to work up here. That's over a thousand yards your people have just measured."

Lewis's hand went to the side of his head, his hand now covered his ear, he was clearly listening to something. With an almost invisible nod he looked once again at Donaldson.

"Please check your radar, and everything else that's switched on up here. Is anything circling? Are we expecting or even not expecting anything that's heading in this direction?"

Donaldson went all professional as his eyes and hands worked two, sometimes three consoles almost simultaneously. Lewis was impressed, more so when Donaldson finally looked at him and confirmed that all was clear.

Moments later the four wooden targets were taking hit after hit.

Donaldson stood and leaned over the equipment in front of him as he watched for a moment, he even lent on one terminal so he could look down to the end of the runway, to see if the group had moved from their original position, then turned to Lewis.

With a still stunned expression on his face and said. "But that's over a thousand yards."

He then reached for the binoculars resting against the window. A hand came from behind and held onto his wrist.

The voice near his ear wasn't more than a whisper but carried with it a chill that made Donaldson very, very afraid.

"Put them down son, sit in your seat and you're now going to ignore everything that's going on out there and your total concentration is going to be in here. We're both on the same page right now, aren't we Stuart Donaldson?"

Donaldson gave a very meek "Yes Sir."

Lewis watched his friend with interest, although both had stopped looking out of the window. The constant noise of rounds hitting each of the wooden targets for almost an hour continued. Donaldson would cast a glance at the targets, but soon returned his attention back to the banks of equipment in the tower. Everything stayed green. Although radio chatter could be heard, none of it was intended for the RAF base, so it was ignored. Radar was still watching aircraft in the air, but they were all commercial and followed their own flight plan.

On the hour, the firing stopped, the vehicle came back and dismantled everything and placed it all in the vehicle. Two of the men even took brooms to the sand that had escaped through the holes of the sandbags and brushed it off the tarmac before returning to the vehicle and driving back to the end of the runway.

Lewis once again placed his hand against his ear and that almost invisible nod occurred again.

"Well, it's been fun talking to you. I suggest you stick around until your relief arrives. Bye now."

Lewis turned and walked to the stairs, waved once, and descended the stairs. Leaving Donaldson looking at the man who was leaving and wondering just what the hell just happened, other than the obvious that is.

*******

The Unit arrived back at their barracks early evening. The General came in his own car to the airbase, so he arrived a few minutes behind the main group. The only item that left the vehicle for now, were the four wooden targets. Freddy told his people to lean them against the corridor wall, outside his office.

General Brownlow paused as he was initially about to pass them, to look more closely, rather than through the high-powered binoculars he had been watching them through this afternoon. He gently shook his head and thought 'if he hadn't been there, he would never have believed it'. He watched as Freddy made a big scene of walking a thousand yards along the runway; he even electronically measured it to be sure. Then, as Freddy was walking back down the runway, the General pushed them all back another fifty.

Now, he was looking at something that only a handful of people in the world could achieve and with far more sophisticated weapons than the Unit had brought with them.