17:04 (London Time)
Friday, April 26, 1985 ‘C’
International arrival hall, Terminal 1
Heathrow International Airport, west of London
England, United Kingdom
As they were about to emerge from the jetway and into the international arrival hall of Heathrow’s Terminal 1, Nancy, who was walking beside Ingrid and holding her hand, looked up at her and spoke mentally to her.
‘Why were the people in the plane unhappy with us, Mommy?’
‘Unhappy would be a kind word for the coldness I got, Nancy. The sad truth is that, until recently, I was officially considered as a war criminal by the government of this country. It is a long, complicated story, but the one thing that you have to remember is that not all the people in this country hate me. Most of the British people are decent folks and are normally quite welcoming and generous. However, their government propaganda and national medias have painted me in a bad way for over 32 years now and many British citizens believe what was said about me. That still doesn’t forcibly make them bad people, by a long shot, and I doubt very much that they will show meanness towards you. So, if a situation occurs, let me handle it and don’t get angry. Do you understand me?’’
‘Yes, Mommy!’
Ingrid then concentrated on how she would handle the next few minutes and hours. If the cold, nearly hostile attitude shown towards her by the cabin crew of the British Airways airliner said anything, it was that she could expect more cold treatment from the various British officials she will have to meet or deal with. In contrast, the British passengers who had not been aware of who she was had been most friendly and polite with her, many of them complimenting her about Nancy. However, the little optimism left in her evaporated when she emerged inside the arrivals hall and saw a sign enjoining all arriving American citizens to join a dedicated lineup set at one extremity of the hall. That also angered Ingrid: even the Soviets reserved a less discriminatory welcome to visiting Americans in Moscow. Resigning herself to incoming trouble, she walked with her daughter to that line, joining five more persons, including what appeared to be a young couple with two small children. The man waiting just ahead of Ingrid gave her a pinched smile while speaking in a low voice to her.
‘’What game are the British playing here? This is the first time anywhere in the World where I see American travelers singled out like this.’’
‘’Do you travel a lot, mister?’’
‘’I certainly do, miss! I am an archaeologist and historian and travel extensively to visit or work on various sites around the World. Oh, by the way: Doctor Aaron Foster, at your service.’’
Ingrid shook the hand offered by Foster while replying to him.
‘’Ingrid Dows, retired General. I am sorry to say that, but this is probably due to me: the British have hated my guts since I sank one of their cruisers off Israel in 1953. Since then, they also committed a number of stupidities which earned them the ire of many American presidents. I believe that their old imperial grandeur is still getting to their heads.’’
‘’Imperial grandeur… Pff! Their economy is pretty much in the dumpster…has been for quite a few years already. They can’t even design really good commercial airliners anymore. That VC-20 we flew in couldn’t even start to compare with the Boeing 717 I used on my previous trip.’’
‘’I know!’’ said Ingrid, smiling at the man’s remark. ‘’I helped design the military variant of the Boeing 717. Let’s hope that the British still have some of their legendary sense of fair play.’’
‘’Well, I wouldn’t count too much on that, General: look at that bunch of policemen gathered beyond our line’s immigration booth. There are more of them there than in the rest of the whole hall. If they wanted to intimidate arriving American visitors, then they succeeded in it. I swear that this is the last time I will come to visit the British Museum.’’
Looking sharply past the immigration booth, Ingrid effectively saw a group of six uniformed British policemen waiting in a corner while eyeing the Americans waiting to pass at the booth.
‘’Be sure that I will report this vexation to President Bush on my return to the United States, Doctor Foster. Apparently, the British government is still in need of a lesson.’’
The young family of four was then called forward to the immigration booth. While their time there seemed inordinately long to Ingrid, with the British immigration officer asking many questions to the family, that family was finally able to walk away towards the luggage carrousels hall without further ado. Doctor Foster was next and also faced many questions before being allowed to proceed. Ingrid then took a deep breath and took Nancy in her arms, speaking in a low voice to her.
‘’Remember, Nancy: whatever happens, don’t get angry and let me handle this.’’
‘’Alright, but I won’t let them hurt you, Mommy.’’
Ingrid knew at once that Nancy meant what she had just said. During the last three days since their visit to Berlin, Nancy had remembered three more of her past incarnations and had thus matured well beyond her physical age, on top of learning how to defend herself thanks to her new souvenirs. Walking resolutely to the immigration booth, Ingrid stopped in front of the British officer’s wicket and slid her passport and that of Nancy through the slot in the Plexiglas pane separating her from the British.
‘’Good afternoon, sir! I came with my daughter to visit the tomb of my adoptive mother, in London.’’
Those words seemed to soften a bit the man’s expression but that changed when he examined her passport. Looking up sharply at her, he also pressed a hidden button under his desk, something Ingrid didn’t miss.
‘’Do you have other reasons to visit the United Kingdom, Miss Dows?’’
‘’No! I haven’t been able to visit Nancy Laplante’s tomb in over 34 years and I wanted my young daughter to be able to see it as well.’’
The mention of ‘Nancy Laplante’ did succeed in again softening the man’s attitude. Stamping both passports without further ado, he then gave them back to Ingrid via the wicket’s slot.
‘’Brigadier Laplante is still respected as the true heroine she was, Miss Dows. Have a good stay in London.’’
‘’Thank you, sir!’’
Only half reassured, Ingrid then walked away towards the luggage carrousels hall, situated one level down. While no policemen came forward to arrest or grab her, she didn’t miss the fact that four of them started to follow her.
Retrieving her two suitcases went without an itch but Ingrid knew that the worst could come as she approached the customs checkpoint. The two customs officers manning the counter she approached were staring at her with rather cold expressions, while a group of no less than four policemen waited a few meters away, also staring at her. Despite their attitude, the senior customs officer did use a polite tone when she stopped in front of him.
‘’Please put your luggage on the counter and open them, Miss Dows. Are you carrying any weapon, drugs or other illegal items, either on you or in your luggage?’’
‘’None, mister! I only have with me items of clothing and personal hygiene, plus a 35mm still camera.’’
The customs officer nodded in response, then turned the two suitcases around and fully opened them and Ingrid’s travel bag. He was searching the first suitcase as she asked her another question.
‘’And what is the purpose of your visit to the United Kingdom, miss?’’
‘’I came to visit the tomb of my adoptive mother, which is in London.’’
The customs officer did not respond to that, continuing to search her suitcase while the second officer checked the other suitcase, which contained Nancy’s clothes and personal items. While their search was very thorough, the two customs officers didn’t make a mess of her things and finally closed back her suitcases and bag after about two minutes, with the senior officer nodding to Ingrid.
‘’Everything is in order, Miss Dows. Have a good stay in England.’’
Ingrid discretely let out a sigh of relief while retrieving her luggage and putting it back on her luggage cart.
‘’Thank you very much, sir! Have a good day yourself.’’
As she walked away, little Nancy sitting in the luggage cart, the police officer in charge of the group that had been waiting nearby went to the senior customs officer and spoke to him, irritation in his voice.
‘’Why did you let her pass so easily?’’
That earned him a hard stare from the customs officer.
‘’I let her pass because she had no illegal or suspicious items with her. She acted within the law and I did the same on my part, period!’’
The police officer tightened his jaws in anger but didn’t reply to that and walked away, furious. However, he knew that this Ingrid Dows was not in the clear yet: other government officials would now keep an eye on her.
Ingrid could have used the subway station situated under the airport terminal for a quick and easy ride to downtown London, but she wanted Nancy to be able to see the countryside on their way into the city. She thus chose to go to the nearest taxi station to take a cab ride to her hotel. While allowing Nancy to have a good view around during their trip, it would also make it easier to spot any eventual followers. She nearly immediately corrected herself on that: she was now certain that British government agents, most probably from the M.I.5, the British counter-intelligence service, would follow her around during her visit to London. Walking to the first cab in the line, Ingrid bent down and smiled to its driver.
‘’Hello! I would like to go to the Travelodge London Hotel, on St-Swithin’s Lane, in the City.’’
The driver immediately stepped out of his taxi to come open the rear left door of his vehicle and also opening his trunk. He loaded her suitcases and travel bag in the trunk after Ingrid and Nancy had taken place on the rear bench seat, then returned behind the driver’s wheel and smiled to Ingrid.
‘’We should be at your hotel in about forty minutes, miss.’’
‘’Thank you!’’ simply replied Ingrid, who knew London well enough to judge that the taxi driver’s time estimate was a realistic one, in view of the heavy traffic inside the city. As the taxi driver started his engine, Ingrid spoke to her daughter, who was sitting next to her on the rear bench.
‘’Come stand on my legs and face the rear, Nancy: you will be able to better see around that way.’’
‘’Yes, Mommy!’’ replied Nancy, who then promptly stepped on the bench, then climbed on Ingrid’s legs, with her mother passing an arm around her torso in order to help steady her. Ingrid then spoke to her in a low voice, using German.
‘’Nancy, use Andrée’s experience and keep watching behind us, to check if others will try to follow us. Check in particular those who will start rolling just after us, then watch to see if they continue to stay behind us even once we are inside the city.’’
‘’I will be watchful, Mommy.’’
The taxi driver rolled out of his parking spot a second later, with little Nancy watching its back like a hawk.
A dark blue sedan rolled out of its temporary parking spot a mere two seconds later, then adjusted its speed to that of the taxi. The three British M.I.5 agents inside the sedan all kept their eyes on the cab, with the agent in the front passenger seat using from time to time a pair of small binoculars to look inside the taxi.
‘’Dows is in the rear left position, with her little girl in her arms and looking outside. I must say that she is quite cute.’’
The senior agent then grabbed the microphone of the car’s radio transceiver and spoke in it.
‘’Fox Two from Fox One: the target is in a cab with plate number GKN 099. It just left Terminal One of the airport and is heading towards the access ramp to the M4 Highway. Be ready to take the relay from me once it will enter the city.’’
‘’Fox Two, understood!’’
The senior agent then hooked back the microphone on its support and made a mean smile.
‘’If she gives us the slightest excuse to arrest her, then we will fall like a ton of bricks on top of that bitch.’’
Some twelve minutes later, Ingrid’s taxi arrived at the point where the M4 Highway became the Great West Road and continued on it, rolling through the district of Chiswick and soon arriving in sight of the Thames River. A few more minutes and the Great West Road became the West Cromwell Road, with the cab rolling successively through West Kensington, Earl’s Court, South Kensington, Knightsbridge and Belgravia. That was when the taxi driver spoke for the first time since their departure from the airport, smiling to Ingrid via his rear-view mirror.
‘’We are about to roll on Piccadilly, miss. If you look to your right front, you will see Buckingham Palace and its gardens.’’
‘’Thank you!’’ replied Ingrid before whispering to Nancy in German.
‘’Did you see suspect cars, Nancy?’’
‘’Two, Mommy: one dark blue car and one gray car, each with three men inside. They keep switching positions behind us.’’
‘’Nice work, Nancy! Keep an eye on them.’’
The taxi entered the St-James district a few minutes later, continuing on Piccadilly, then turning right on Haymarket and rolling towards the Thames River before turning again, this time on Pall Mall and heading east. That was when the taxi driver spoke again.
‘’Trafalgar Square, miss! You will see to your right the column dedicated to Admiral Nelson.’’
That made Nancy look for a moment at the tall monument, then ask a question in English to her mother.
‘’Mommy, is that Admiral Nelson more famous than Francis Drake?’’
‘’Uh, I am not sure. Let me ask our driver. Sir, is Admiral Nelson more famous than Sir Francis Drake in England?’’
‘’That is a good question, miss.’’ replied the driver, being honest. ‘’Sir Francis Drake saved us from the Spanish Armada, while Admiral Nelson saved us from Napoleon’s fleet. Both are considered as national heroes in England but I suppose that Admiral Nelson is the better known one around the World.’’
‘’Thank you very much, sir.’’ said before smiling to her daughter. ‘’You have your answer, Nancy.’’
That seemed to frustrate the little girl, who frowned while returning her attention to the cars following their taxi.
‘’I bet that this Nelson was not as good as a sailor.’’
Pall Mall Street soon merged with the Strand, which in turn became Fleet Street, the main artery of The City, the financial district of London. Soon after Fleet Street turned into Ludgate Hill Street, the taxi driver spoke yet again.
‘’Here is the St-Paul’s Cathedral on our left, miss. We will soon arrive at your hotel.’’
‘’Thank you, sir. Is the Cathedral’s crypt still open to visitors?’’
‘’Yes, miss, but there are specific visiting hours for it. I don’t remember them but you can get that information at the reception of your hotel.’’
Ingrid nodded her head, then spoke softly to her daughter while pointing the old cathedral to her.
‘’That is where we are going to visit the tomb of my adoptive mother, Nancy. We will go there tomorrow, if it is open then.’’
Three minutes later, their taxi finally stopped in front of the entrance of a hotel opening on a narrow side street.
‘’Here we are, miss: the Travelodge London Central Bank Hotel! Let me take your luggage out of the trunk.’’
‘’You are too kind, sir.’’
Stepping quickly out of his car, the driver opened the trunk and took out of it Ingrid’s two suitcases and one travel bag before facing Ingrid, who handed him the money for the fare, plus a generous tip.
‘’Here you go, my good man: I was able to see the amount of the fare on your meter. Keep everything.’’
‘’Why, thank you, miss!’’ said the happy taxi driver while accepting the money. ‘’I wish you a nice stay in London.’’
‘’And I wish you a good evening, sir.’’
Ingrid then watched the taxi driver return into his cab and then drive away, before grabbing her suitcases and bag. One discrete glance told her that a dark blue sedan with three men inside had turned into the narrow street but had then parked nearly immediately.
‘’Nancy, is that one of the pursuing cars?’’
‘’Yes, Mommy!’’
‘’Good! Let’s go take our room.’’
Entering the hotel lobby, which proved to be comparatively small, Ingrid dropped her suitcases in front of the reception desk and smiled to the receptionist while putting her two passports on the reception counter.
‘’Good evening, sir! My name is Ingrid Dows and I reserved a room a few days ago.’’
‘’Ah yes! I remember booking your reservation, Misses Dows. It was for a single room with large bed, correct?’’
‘’Correct! I will occupy it for the next three days at a minimum and will pay in advance for those three days.’’
‘’Excellent! Let me register you, then I will be able to give you your key, Misses Dows.’’
Consulting her passport and that of Nancy, the clerk quickly registered her in, then handed her a room key.
‘’Here you are, Misses Dows: Room 216.’’
‘’Thank you very much!’’
The receptionist then rang the small bell on his counter, making a young bellboy come forward.
‘’Richard, please help carry the lady’s suitcases up to Room 216.’’
‘’Right away, sir! If you will please follow me, miss.’’
‘’With pleasure, young man.’’
Ingrid, holding Nancy’s hand and carrying her travel bag, followed the bellboy to a rather ancient elevator and entered it. The elevator proved nearly as slow as it was old but at least the ride was smooth. Going out on the second floor, the trio then walked to a door bearing the number ‘216’, which the bellboy unlocked with his master key and then pushed open before stepping aside.
‘’After you, miss.’’
‘’Thank you, young man!’’
The room Ingrid then entered may not have been very large, but it was clean and the large bed looked comfortable. Ingrid nodded with satisfaction then: in truth, she had seen a lot worse than this in the past. She then gave a two-pound banknote as a tip to the bellboy, who bowed to her at once.
‘’Thank you, miss. Have a good evening, miss.’’
The bellboy then left, closing the door behind him and leaving Ingrid with her daughter.
‘’What do you say to go out and find a good restaurant for supper after unpacking our suitcases, Nancy? Are you hungry?’’
‘’I am, Mommy! What kind of restaurants do they have in London?’’
Her question made Ingrid giggle briefly.
‘’All kinds! London is a very cosmopolitan city, contrary to Washington. Now, let’s unpack!’’
Some ten minutes later, both of them went back down to the reception lobby, where Ingrid approached the counter to ask a question to the clerk.
‘’Would you know by chance the visiting hours for the crypt in St-Paul’s Cathedral, sir?’’
‘’Uh, I believe that it is opened from eleven in the morning to three in the afternoon, but I wouldn’t want to induce you in error. Let me check quickly, miss.’’
It took less than a minute to the receptionist to consult his documentation and smile back at Ingrid.
‘’I was slightly off, miss: it is opened to visitors between eleven and 3:15. However, it is closed on Sundays. I must warn you that the charge for visitors who are not parishioners is a bit stiff: twenty pounds.’’
‘’Ouch! That IS stiff! Why so?’’
‘’Because the cathedral gets little to no financial support from either the Crown, the Anglican Church or The City, miss. It wholly depends on the revenues from visitors and donations from the faithful to pay for its maintenance and renovations.’’
‘’I see! I have another question for you, sir: do you know a few good restaurants near here?’’
The receptionist grinned in response.
‘’It depends on the kind of restaurant you would like, miss: there are dozens of good restaurants within easy walking distance of this hotel. Would you prefer traditional British cuisine, European cuisine, French, Indian, Italian, Chinese, Japanese?’’
‘’Uh, let me ask my boss, mister. Nancy, what would you like to eat?’’
‘’Fish and chips, Mommy!’’ replied at once Nancy, making both Ingrid and the clerk smile, with the latter nodding his head in approval.
‘’Then, you must go to the ‘George and Vulture’. It is an old pub nearby, on Castle Court. I will show you on a map.’’
18:51 (London Time)
The George and Vulture Pub
3 Castle Court, the City
London
‘’Here we are, Nancy: the George and Vulture Pub! It looks like quite an old place. It should be an interesting experience to eat here. Let’s go in!’’
Opening the black door of the pub and entering with Nancy, Ingrid found herself inside what one would expect of a traditional old British pub: lacquered wood furniture, varnished wood beam structures…and lots of customers drinking beer from big mugs. Thankfully, she was able to find a vacant small table set against one of the walls and sat Nancy in one of the chairs before sitting herself and signaling to a waitress, who came at once with a menu in her hands.
‘’Yes, miss?’’
‘’We came for supper and my daughter said she wanted to eat some fish and chips. I was told at my hotel that fish and chips is on your menu.’’
‘’That is correct, miss. Here is the menu. Would you like something to drink first?’’
‘’I will take a draft beer, blond type, for me and a glass of fresh milk for my daughter.’’
‘’I’ll be right back, miss. Would you like a booster chair for your cute daughter?’’
‘’That would be nice, thank you.’’
The waitress then hurried away, to return a minute later with a child’s booster chair which she placed on Nancy’s chair, allowing her to be at the correct height to be able to eat.
‘’Here you go, sweety! I’ll be back in a second with your drinks, miss.’’
As the waitress was again walking away, Ingrid saw a man wearing a suit enter the pub and go sit on one of the stools of the bar. Scanning him telepathically, she hid a frown and spoke softly to Nancy in German.
‘’One of our followers is here, sitting at the bar. Please don’t look in that direction, Nancy: I will keep an eye on him.’’
As Nancy nodded in understanding, Ingrid noted that the man’s jacket was unbuttoned and was fairly loose around his torso, one possible sign that he was wearing a handgun rig. Putting the man aside in her mind, she then examined the menu, taking only a few seconds to make her choice, which she gave when the waitress came back with her beer and Nancy’s glass of milk.
‘’Thank you, miss! We will both take the fish and chips. Would it be possible to make a smaller portion for my daughter?’’
‘’Of course, miss: we are accustomed to serve families with children. It won’t be very long before you are served.’’
As promised, the waitress was back in less than ten minutes with their plates of fish and chips, putting them down on their table with a big smile.
‘’Here you go, sweety, miss. Enjoy!’’
‘’Thank you!’’ replied Ingrid, also smiling. Nancy immediately dived into her plate, cutting and picking a first piece of fried cod fish, then eating it with obvious delight.
‘’The fish is very good, Mommy.’’
‘’I am glad to hear that, my love.’’ replied Ingrid before taking her first bite. She had to agree with her daughter about the fish: it was excellent and as good as the best fried fish she had ever tasted in the past. The fried potatoes were also very good, crispy and not too greasy.
They were halfway through their meals when a loud, raucous group of five British Royal Navy sailors in uniform entered the pub, visibly off duty. Ingrid tensed up on seeing them: the last time she had met British sailors, inside a restaurant in Taiwan a few years ago, she had collected a few punches to her face from an enraged sailor blaming her for the death of his father aboard the H.M.S. TIGER, which she had sunk off the coast of Palestine in 1953. Thankfully, the five sailors headed straight for the bar, where they sat and ordered beers. Feeling partly relieved, Ingrid continued eating, but kept her telepathic vigil up.
At the bar, the M.I.5 agent saw in the arrival of the Royal Navy sailors an opportunity to possibly bring trouble to Ingrid Dows. Waiting for the sailors to have started to drink their first beer, he then spoke to the nearest one, a tough-looking petty officer in his mid-forties.
‘’I don’t know if you and your comrades noticed, but there is an enemy of the Royal Navy present in the pub this evening.’’
The petty officer threw a confused look at him in response, not really understanding what the agent had meant. What the agent did not notice was the frown that appeared on the face of the pub owner, who was helping serve the customers at the bar. Before he could approach the M.I.5 agent to tell him to mind his own business and not create trouble, the agent discreetly pointed at Ingrid, still eating at a corner table.
‘’That woman is ex-General Ingrid Dows, the American who sank the H.M.S. TIGER in 1953.’’
‘’Her? But she looks to be only about 23. Are you sure?’’
‘’Very! Remember that she is partly famous because of her apparent eternal youth.’’
Those words made the petty officer look sharply at Ingrid while stepping down from his stool. However, before he could start walking towards Ingrid’s table, a loud thud made him look down at the floor next to the agent’s stool. What he saw was a snub-nosed revolver lying on the wooden floor. He was also not the only one to see it, as a female customer at a nearby table shouted out loud.
‘’HEY! THAT MAN HAD A GUN!’’
The M.I.5 agent then realized with a pang of panic that his service revolver had somehow fallen from its shoulder holster and was now lying on the floor, in plain sight of everybody. What he couldn’t know was that Ingrid had used her telekinesis powers to snap open the holster’s retaining strap and to then make the revolver fall off. The pub owner, now truly incensed, grabbed the agent’s right shoulder and stared hard into his eyes.
‘’You better explain yourself about this gun, mister, or I will call the police on you. Why were you trying to incite trouble in my pub?’’
The panicked agent suddenly found himself facing a near impossible situation: if he publicly announced himself to be a government agent, then his cover and tailing assignment would be blown sky high. On the other hand, illegal firearm carry was looked upon very severely in Great Britain, where even most police officers did not carry service weapons. He thus had the choice of either showing his badge or having to flee the pub to avoid trouble. He finally decided to show his badge, extracting it from one pocket of his jacket and showing it discretely to the pub owner.
‘’Please lower your voice, mister: I am a government agent and I am trailing a potentially dangerous person.’’
‘’You mean that young mother eating with her little daughter? She has been eating quietly at her table while you, on the other hand, were trying to incite this sailor to go attack or harass her. I don’t care who you are: I don’t want to see trouble inside my pub. Pick up your gun and get the hell out of here, now, or I will call the police.’’
The M.I.5 agent, mortified, could only obey and bent down to pick up his revolver, slipping it back into its holster and leaving the pub after throwing a dark look at Ingrid, who now had a sarcastic smile on her lips. As for the petty officer, he gave a reassuring look to the pub owner.
‘’Don’t worry about me, sir: I will simply go talk to that young woman. I am not the kind to attack a mother in front of her child.’’
‘’Fine, but please don’t start an argumen