22rd April
‘We’re searching Hunter’s flat and his country house,’ said Joan as she drove us both from West London on the way back to Bovington. ‘There must be something in one of them that’ll provide more information about ARK, Arkangel or the missile plan.’
‘What do you think Hunter meant about his biggest secret being buried safely in Dorset?’ I said, thinking back to our conversation with Rachel.
‘Your guess is as good as mine,’ Joan replied as she looked intently in her rear view mirror and then into her wing mirrors.
‘Maybe Leadbetter will discover something,’ I said.
‘He’s doing what we couldn’t,’ replied Joan. ‘He’s got Hunter and the opportunity to get some information out of him.’
‘What’s going to happen about Hunter’s disappearance and the press?’ I asked.
‘For the moment, we’ll do much the same as we did for Leadbetter,’ Joan clarified. ‘A story will be constructed about him taking a break to visit a distant, ill relative who lives somewhere far away. That’ll avoid interest for a while. We’ll see what develops during that time.’
Joan’s mobile was in a hands-free holder on the dashboard. She touched some buttons. There was a ringing tone.
‘Control to Juno,’ a voice could be heard through the speaker.
‘Juno 4132,’ Joan said. ‘I’ve got company – a blue Volkswagen campervan. It’s been following since we left London. Please intercept and detain.’
‘Blue Volkswagen campervan, near your position, intercept and detain, confirm please,’ said the voice on the phone.
‘Confirm,’ said Joan.
‘Copy,’ said the voice. The phone then went silent.
‘What’s happening?’ I asked.
‘I don’t know any more than you’ve just heard,’ Joan replied.
We drove for a further half an hour in silence. Then Joan’s phone rang. She pressed a key. ‘Control to Juno,’ came the voice.
‘Juno 4132,’ Joan again replied.
‘Roadside vehicle check, one mile.’
‘Thank you,’ Joan responded and ended the call.
I continued to say nothing, watching with interest as the episode unfolded.
After a further mile there had been a temporary sign erected by the side of the road with the words “Vehicle Checkpoint” written upon it. About one hundred metres beyond, two police cars and a police van were parked in a layby.
I could see the campervan in the wing mirror of the car – four or five vehicles behind us. As we passed the checkpoint, an officer moved forwards and pointed to the van. I saw it drive into the layby and stop.
‘What happens next?’ I asked Joan.
‘This is the process we normally adopt to deal with suspicious vehicles,’ said Joan. ‘You never know who’s in them, and we’ve been caught out before by having police interceptors stop them. Ordinary citizens don’t tail MI5 officers,’ Joan continued. ‘Sometimes, a tail might work for another government, and if he or she has diplomatic status, the police can’t interview the person or search the vehicle. If vehicles are found to be dangerously un-roadworthy in a routine, roadside check, however, the police still can’t legally search the vehicle, but they can impound it. Then we get a chance to check it over in peace and also find out something about the occupants while they argue that we’re breaching their diplomatic immunity.’
‘In that case, I guess that van is pretty unsafe on the road,’ I speculated.
‘Oh, deadly,’ replied Joan, glancing across at me and smiling.
As we continued on the road to Bovington, it occurred to me that I knew very little about Joan. ‘Do you enjoy working for MI5?’ I asked.
‘I’ve always liked solving puzzles,’ Joan replied. ‘Frankly, even after all these years, there’s still an element of excitement to it all.’
‘Did you find time to have a family?’ I wondered out loud.
‘I was married forty years ago. I guess we might have had children.’
‘Do you mind if I ask what happened?’ I said.
‘Never marry another spook,’ she advised. ‘He was killed in an operation in the middle-east, a year after we were married.’
Before we could say more, she turned the car into the driveway at Bovington camp and lowered the window to speak to the guard on the gate.