Jolene reclined into her chair and lowered her head, fixing Dale with a frown.
'There could be any number of reasons why they wanted to follow up with Jackson, they may have already investigated those leads and found them to be dead-ends. What do you think Kappel is hiding?'
'Well, if you ask me, all this stuff you're now going to put into a report for Kappel, he's already aware of it, you'll just be confirming what he already knows.'
Jackson was slowly nodding his head.
'Dale has a point there, you know? I've already mentioned the compartmented links that I haven't been able to get access to, they are referenced to 1946, just after the end of the war, which is too much of a coincidence to be unrelated to events during the Nazi regime. Only a portion of Hanna Paulus' intelligence file was available as orphaned documents so they could have cross-referenced those with the documents that were correctly classified and linked in. Kappel would have access to all of that, especially under the circumstances.'
'There you go,' Dale nodded, 'something isn't right.'
Jolene looked pensive again, chewing the inside of her bottom lip and clearly considering the implications of Dale's accusation.
'We'll do what we were ordered to do; prepare and submit a preliminary report and take it from there. If there is a reason why we're simply going over old ground then it must be a good one, let's just do our jobs and present our findings to Kappel.'
'You not going to tell him anything new,' Dale shrugged, 'I just know it.'
A smirk suddenly spread across his face as he stretched his arms behind his head.
'Especially since Jackson still doesn't know what the printer of the book had for breakfast!'
The white zone is for unloading and loading only -
Just as a flurry of snow found renewed energy and started scattering large icy flakes over the frozen landscape of Dumfries in southern Scotland, a plume of black diesel soot was belched from the vertical exhausts of an articulated lorry towing a canvas sided trailer as it revved into the compound of one of the larger warehouses on the Heathhall industrial estate based two miles north of the town.
The laborious journey north from Merseyside along the M6 and A75 had taken longer than expected for the lorry and the two transit vans that had started their journey from a truck stop just off the M62 in the dark of the early morning. Unbeknownst to the driver of the heavy goods vehicle, he was the last to arrive, the worsening weather conditions causing a number of traffic incidents to delay his journey let alone the necessity to drive much more slowly due to the treacherous road conditions.
The HGV swung around and started reversing trailer first up to the building, a large loading bay shutter door starting to rumble up as two figures appeared and stood on the elevated platform of the dock. The warning bleep of the reversing alarm echoed throughout the cavernous interior of the loading area and the figures waited patiently until the white lights of the lorry flicked off and the driver had completed his manoeuvre to park the trailer abutted tightly to the half open shutter door.
The lead man hopped down and walked around to the driver's cab door.
'What kept you?' he chided in good humour as the door opened and the driver leaned out.
'Bloody traffic! There was a massive tail-back just before Carlisle, some bloke had shunted into the car in front and another car swerved to avoid them but ended up sideways across the carriageway. Nightmare. The bloody roads aren't gritted properly and there is ice and compacted snow everywhere.'
'It wasn't much better in the transit vans,' grinned his colleague, 'at least you didn't have to put up with a bunch of old women moaning about the cold for the whole trip.'
He banged the side of the cab and started to retrace his steps to the back of the trailer.
'Come on, get yourself a brew and we'll start unloading.'
The driver of the lorry wandered through the loading area and a couple of short corridors into the vast empty space of the main warehouse, noting his colleagues grouped and seated in one corner, engaged in various small equipment checks with one of them acting as chef and preparing a meal for the whole team of eleven men and women and cooking up a broth on a propane fired portable camping gas ring.
'
Oi
,
Oi
,' shouted one of the seated men, 'did you get lost on the way?'
'Yeah, some pillock in a transit van gave me the wrong directions!' he grinned back.
The group laughed as some of them stood up and started walking out to help with the unloading process. One of the women had Corporal's stripes and she spoke as she passed the driver.
'Get yourself some chow and a hot drink, the Sergeant wants to have a quick briefing as we eat.'
The driver nodded and then slowly wandered to gaze at the military vehicles that had been parked in the middle of the warehouse, driven and stored there on a previous occasion in preparation for this mission. His own designated vehicle, a large Scammell S26 four axle military transport truck was preloaded with a number of supply cases, however the main flat bed was left clear for the cargo that had been transported in the lorry he had just driven up and which was currently being unloaded.
Next to the Scammell stood two heavily modified ex-British Army Land Rover Defender 110 four wheel drives. They had been kitted out specifically for very rough terrain and had been upgraded with larger off-road wheels and tyres, electric winches and extra lighting arrays. Although the Defenders looked good, the vehicle that really grabbed his attention was the Jackal II armoured car.
Used ostensibly for reconnaissance, rapid assault and convoy protection, it was a highly mobile weapons platform weighing seven tonnes but capable of conveying its crew of three over five hundred miles at speeds of up to eighty miles per hour over roads and even managing over fifty miles per hour on rough terrain. What really satisfied him was the fact that this particular vehicle was fitted with a general purpose machine gun and armed with a heavy machine gun as the main weapon system for a fire support role, offering a 360-degree sweep of fire to dominate an enemy attacking from any angle.
The Jackal had been specially prepared for cold weather conditions, requiring a repaint from the original desert colours to a camouflage pattern more suited to a European theatre of operations but whatever the colour scheme, the Jackal provided a formidable boost to their weapons arsenal. They didn't really expect any trouble on this mission but, they were all aware that the firepower wasn't just there for show.
The chef wandered up with a steaming mug in his hand and broke the driver's concentration.
'Here you go, get some tea down your neck. The grub will be ready in a bit.'
After loading the large crate from the HGV onto the back of the Scammell and securing it into position, the group had sat down and started to tuck into their meal. It was not exactly cordon bleu cooking, having been mostly prepared from a range of tinned goods slopped into a large pot and heated to a bubbling stew, but in the stagnant cold of the cavernous warehouse it represented a hearty meal just right for filling empty stomachs; they had journeyed all morning and looked forward to a whole afternoon spent travelling even further north in the dire weather conditions.
After ten minutes of convivial conversation over their meal, Sergeant Andy Loftus stood up and placed his aluminium food canteen onto the table, chewing on the last of his buttered bread with which he had mopped up the remnants of his stew. He clapped his hands loudly a couple of times and swallowed.
'Right, down to business,' he said, smacking his lips and manoeuvring a few slivers of bread crust from the inside of his cheeks to his tongue.
'Finish your meals and keep the interruptions to a minimum, we don't have much time and we have a lot to get through.'
'No chance of a second helping then?' one of the men grinned.
'Thank-you for that contribution Stiles, you've just volunteered yourself to help with the washing up!'
A chuckle rose from the group as Loftus waved his hands to calm them down.
'Listen up. First things first, I want to remind you that we are all in the British Army now, therefore, get your field kit on as soon as possible and remember your rank and who to salute. We're using this cover for a good reason so make it work.
'With that in mind, let me give a quick update, Captain Faber and Lieutenant Akosua have been delayed as they expected. I've been informed that they will be catching up with us so we will be leaving one of the Land Rovers behind for them. That leaves it to me, your friendly Sergeant, to kick off this final leg of our mission, so, pay attention because this is important.'
The group settled down, they were all professionals and knew when it was appropriate to lark around and when they needed to buckle down to business.
'As it should be pretty apparent by now, we are heading to deepest darkest Scotland, a little place called Oban in the region of Argyll and Bute on the west coast. We'll be travelling in convoy so I don't expect anybody to get lost, but just in case, we will be travelling up on the M74 to Glasgow, the A82 and then the A85. We'll go through the route later but just remember to keep in convoy and we'll be fine.'
The female Corporal who had spoken with the driver earlier raised her hand slightly.
'Corporal Hunt?'
'Sarge, wouldn't it be easier to take the coastal route?'
'Good question. We want to remain low key and I'm guessing that the weather will keep most people away from the roads on the higher ground, so that is why we are going north and west rather than west and then north. Our vehicles shouldn't have too much trouble with any snow that we encounter.'
Hunt nodded and jotted down a note in a small pad balanced on her knee.
'Our RV is a farmhouse in a large pine forest just over five miles east of Oban and for those of you without a detailed knowledge of Scotland, it has a tropical climate and year round sunshine so I hope that you've packed your Factor-15 and combat flip-flops.'
The group grunted at the humorous suggestion, already considering how much colder it was going to get the further north that they travelled.
'It should now be obvious why we spent so much time training to secure a farmhouse and out-buildings. As soon as we get there, I want the place wrapped up tighter than a gnat's arsehole, the Scammell will be stowed in the main barn and I want the Faraday tent put up over it as soon as, I don't want a signature leaking out from our pop-gun for some satellite to pick up.
'The Jackal has a cosy garage all to itself and we'll keep it out of the way unless things turn nasty. As for the perimeter, we have two sets of laser wires, one set just for the barn and another for the boundary. We get them set up as soon as we arrive regardless of whether Frosty the Snowman is doing his best to turn the place into the Arctic. Understood?'
The team all nodded in agreement.
'The farmhouse itself will act as our HQ and it has already been plentifully stocked, we just have some perishable goods to transfer to the Scammell. The oil tank is full and we've also got a big pile of wood and coal up there for a roaring open fire so we'll be well fed and just as importantly, kept nice and warm. The boiler kicks out plenty of hot water so we can keep our little bodies clean and get some laundry done - we've got all the mod cons!
'Captain Faber and I took a couple of runs up there a few weeks ago so we have plenty of supplies, we can be self sufficient for at least eight weeks as long as nobody pigs out on the chocolate. More importantly, you'll also be pleased to hear that we have plenty of toilet paper so no worries there.'
A wave of laughter rippled over the group.
'Now, onto serious stuff! As you've already seen, we have thirteen full equipment packs and spare combat gear, even some Government Issue skivvies should you need them. You will each be issued with an L85A2 assault rifle and four Heckler & Koch thirty round mags, we also have thirty frag grenades in total. Along with the Jackal, we have plenty of firepower should we need it, however, remember that our aim is to remain covert, we don't want to engage in a fire-fight unless it is our only option and even then it should be considered as a last resort to enable us to fall back. I don't want any negligent discharges or fucking around with live ammo, the success of this project is paramount and I will personally slot anybody that fucks it up.'
Loftus took a moment for the statement to sink in, eyeing the team to ensure that his words were taken seriously.
'That said, just remember that we are a bunch of squaddies on a training exercise, therefore the likelihood of anything going down is slim. If the shit hits the fan then we engage and retreat to our fall back position where we can expect an extraction - just like we trained for. I'll go through this on the map before we set off.'
'Just one thing,' Loftus suddenly said grinning, widely, 'since we're supposed to look like a military exercise firing blanks, I'll remind you that all of the rifles are fitted with a BFA, that's a blank firing adapter for the sieve heads among you. For fucks sake, remember to take off the BFA if we have to go to a live fire situation or you'll just as likely be performing a field lobotomy on your own head. Understood?'
The group nodded and a few mumbled an affirmation.
'Understood?' Loftus shouted.
'Yes Sergeant!' the team chorused.
'The locals up there see training exercises regularly and they might raise an eyebrow at a rifle without a BFA which is why we're using them, but they're unlikely to notice a live magazine. Having said that, it is extremely unlikely that we will encounter anybody up there, especially considering the weather, however, if you do come across any wandering hikers or sheep shaggers, remember, authority not aggression. Politely indicate that they are in a temporary military training zone and move them away.'
Loftus nodded to himself as he considered his next words.
'We've trained hard for this over the last few months and I am confident that you are all ready. Although you've all had military training of some sort, some of you have much greater field experience than others so support each other. In any event, remember that we are Brothers and Sisters in The Holy Order of Thrones and it is our job to do exactly this kind of task. The Seraphim and Cherubim rely on us. Our Order relies on us. We are on the front-line and everybody else is depending on us to do our duty. I know that Patrician Faber - Captain Faber - is very proud of what we have achieved so far and he has every confidence in us. Our mission will be a success if we make it so, so let's make it happen!'
A round of cheers rose up from the assembled group and a couple of the team members clapped as Loftus waved his hands again to calm them.
'Any questions?'
'Do we have a target yet Sergeant?'
'No, our target designation will be provided once we are in position as will the calibration settings.'