The Three R's Pt. 02 by freddieclegg,freddieclegg

“Oh, right. I’ve been trying to find him. He seems to have gone to ground.”

“Not seen him for a couple of days.” Norm wasn’t keen to get involved in what looked like a complicated domestic set up. He turned to Daisy, handing back his collar and leash. “Well, thanks for digging us out of that. I’m going to try to get my flight. I think I’m better off back in Ireland, if you don’t mind me saying.”

Jack smiled and offered Norm his hand. “Thanks for the help. I’m not sure I’d have got out of Mudchute otherwise.”

“That’s OK.”

“Have a safe trip,” Daisy added.

Norm grabbed his bag, said his farewells and headed out onto the street. He checked the road signs. He certainly didn’t want to attract the attention of a passing MCF officer by ignoring one of the street regulations. With careful navigation he reached Victoria Station without any trouble.

There were a few police around on the station concourse but no more than Norm would have expected. One of the railway staff was checking tickets at the gate to the platform for the Gatwick Express but she seemed uninterested in him, once he showed her his flight ticket. Norm sat down on the train with a sense of relief. He was glad to be heading back to Sligo.

Chapter 21: Tracking

The trouble with this release of the data visualisation software, thought Catherine Chee, is sometimes the results make no sense.

She was working on the dataset for a “person of interest” following the break out at ExCel. Luckily the POI had got one of the new ident cards that could be detected at about a fifty metre range from a detection point. The trouble was there weren’t that many detectors around yet, and they got fewer the further out of the centre of town you went.

There were a couple of pings close to Mudchute itself, another up towards Stratford — she wondered if they were heading to the rail station trying to get across onto the high speed line down to the Channel Tunnel — then another near Clapton. There didn’t seem to be a road linking the pings. Checking the timings, they would work for someone travelling on foot.

It was only when Catherine added a satellite view to the road map that she realised the pings were following the line of the River Lea.

The problem, then, for Catherine was what should she do with the data. It was always the challenge when you had a new source of intelligence. You had to be careful how you used to the results of it. There was always the fear of revealing what you could detect. That could lessen the future value of your resource. In this case it was hard to see how setting the MCF on this fugitive would have much benefit. The breakout had been foiled, the individual these blips represented didn’t pose a current threat. It would be better just keeping an eye on where he went. She was pretty sure Aileen would agree.

The pings reappeared. They seemed to have stopped near where the river crossed the North Circular Road. Catherine left her system recording the pings and their location and went to find a coffee. By the time she returned the pings were on the move again. This time more quickly. The individual was obviously in a vehicle. They seemed to stop in Victoria.

There was something rather pleasing about being able to visualise exactly where this man was and when, the software drawing a little trail across the map linking the pings with a thin dotted line. Equally Catherine felt amused that the man had no idea he was being tracked; that she knew his whereabouts while he knew nothing of her.

Catherine mentioned the results of her exercise the next morning in the daily briefing.

Aileen McConaghy was pleased that the system was proving so effective. “And where did you say the pings finished up? Victoria?”

“Yes, Cumberland Street.”

“I wonder why that doesn’t surprise me,” Aileen said cryptically. “Good job. And a good call on letting him run, I think. We knew that at least one of the team that broke into the ExCel Centre got clear. Circumstantially it looks like it’s this laddie.”

“Do we need to do anything about Cumberland Street?”

“No, that’s fine. Just let me know if your target goes on the move again any time soon. You don’t have any MAMBO data for him, do you?”

Catherine shook her head. “No but I don’t think I’d expect a committed male-rights campaigner to fitted with one, do you?”

“No,” Aileen said. “It was just wishful thinking. There are some persuasive sponsors out there.”

Catherine smiled. “Perhaps we should get DOSA to step up encouragement for fitting SAID control devices?”

“I think that will come soon enough. The Government has been wary of making them compulsory but if there are more incidents like the ExCel Centre then I can see some of the more enthusiastic party members will start agitating.”

Catherine was pleased with herself. The faceless, nameless male had been tracked. They knew where he was. They would know if he moved again. It looked like the tracking and data analysis techniques her team had developed were working well. She felt she owed herself a treat. An evening at the Club Regina seemed in order.

Chapter 22: Return to Eire

Norm wasn’t sure just when he started feeling that actually he was going to make it back to Sligo. He was nervous all the way from the train to the check in desk and through airport security. There were MCF officers patrolling the departure hall. Their body protectors were enough to disguise any womanly charms that they might have, even if New Order’s Respect Agenda decreed such speculations were off limits.

Once through passport control the “women only” and “men only when accompanied” signs disappeared and Norm suddenly felt more comfortable.

There were women with leashed men in the departure lounge but they were the exception. Mostly where couples were travelling together the man was tagging along, obviously waiting on whatever their woman wanted. A couple were sitting on the chairs across the aisle from Norm. The woman leant over and said something to the man and without a reply he scuttled off towards one of the shops in the departure lounge, returning moments later with a magazine for the woman. There were even a few unaccompanied men like himself. Presumably they were others travelling on foreign passports although, Norm thought, probably theirs were genuine.

Only at one point did he start to feel nervous again. Two Border Force officers, their uniforms identical to MCF officers apart from their pale blue epaulettes, came striding purposefully across the lounge. Whatever they were intent on it didn’t include Norm, he was glad to realise. The two, chatting together, disappeared into one of the rooms off the lounge marked “Airport Personnel Only”.

“Passengers travelling on Ryan Air flight 204 to Dublin are asked to board through Gate 17,” the tannoy announced and Norm folded his newspaper as casually as he could, got to his feet and walked as slowly as he could towards the gate.

His sense of relief increased as he got to the plane to see a smiling flight attendant welcoming him. He was suddenly aware that almost every woman he had seen over the last few days had seemed to be scowling at him personally. Fuck, Norm thought, they’ve go what they wanted, they’re running the place, at least they could look like they are happy about it.

Leave a Comment