At Carlisle, he crossed the platform and boarded the two carriage West Coast shuttle service to Maryport. The train was on time, and after a short journey, Swan stepped down onto the station platform and walked towards the ticket barrier. He showed his ticket to the stationmaster and then recognised Howard Barnett waiting for him. ‘HB, nice to see you old chap. Really good to see you up on your feet again. Arthur and I felt the worst when we got the news,’ Swan shook the Brinton Chief Engineer’s hand.
‘How was your journey, Alex?’ asked Barnett.
‘Very interesting, I had a tail from the office in Whitehall and then on the train at Euston, but, I managed to lose them at Crewe. After that I had a relaxing and surveillance-free journey.’
‘Bloody Ada,’ was all Barnett could manage to say in response.
The two men walked out into the station car park and climbed into Barnett’s Austin. ‘Change of plan, Alex. My wife Heidi has insisted that you come back to us, have dinner and stay the night.
Swan smiled. ‘That’s awfully jolly hospitable of her HB, I would be honoured.’
‘That settles it, then. In the morning, I will take you into Brinton’s and you can then do your thing with the Yanks.’
The drive back to Barnett’s house in Ellenborough was semi quiet, with Barnett recalling his experience on the heath. This allowed Swan to gather his own thoughts, and recall the events so far.
At the house, Swan was shown in and introduced to Heidi. ‘I have heard a lot about you in this very short time, Mr Swan. Now shall we eat, meinen herren?’
Heidi led them into the dining room, and Swan sat down at the beautifully laid table and eyed the pot of stew and dumplings sitting in the centre.
‘Please, help yourself Mr Swan,’ invited Heidi.
‘Your husband praised your cooking to me, Mrs Barnett. I am looking forward to this.’
After a short while, Heidi cleared away the dinner plates and took them into the kitchen.
Barnett then rubbed his hands with excitement. ‘Is that a strudel I can smell, lass?’
Heidi returned with a tray holding the apple strudel and set it on the table, then returned to the kitchen to retrieve a jug of custard.
Following dessert, Swan sipped his coffee while going over what he intended for the next day. ‘I will need to get downstairs in the hanger.’
Barnett had an idea. ‘I could arrange for a fire drill, that way everyone has to clear the area, even the Yanks. While we do the roll calls, this should give you enough time to get down there and see what’s going on.’
Swan liked the sound of this plan. ‘Excellent idea, HB.’
Barnett rose from his chair, reached into a side cabinet and pulled out a bottle of Glendronnach Single Malt Scottish Whisky.
‘Now Alex, how about a nightcap?’
The distinctive lights of Albert Bridge over the River Thames make this particular structure one of the most attractive landmarks of London, and Jake Brannigan looked out at the river as he crossed the bridge in the black taxi cab. Once the taxi reached the other side, the driver drove along the main road, passing the concrete pillars marking the entrance to Battersea Park. At the end of the road, the driver turned right, and then a first left into Battersea Church Road. He pulled the taxi over to the side of the curb, parking next to a white Volkswagen Beetle. Brannigan paid the driver and climbed out of the cab, then walked up the steps to a terraced house and rang the bell. After a few seconds, the door opened and an elderly woman, wearing brown trousers and a beige cardigan, stood in the doorway.
‘Mr Brannigan. Please come in,’ she said in an American accent. Having already received a full description from Maitland, Ellie Cartwright knew what to expect.
Brannigan walked in to the hallway, gazing at the chandelier that hung down from the ceiling in the centre. The elderly lady walked in front of him. ‘Welcome to London Safe House 23. Let me show you to your room.’
Brannigan followed her up the stairs and was led through a white door into a bedroom. She spoke as she walked. ‘Are you hungry, I can do ya some ham sandwiches?’
‘No err…?’
‘Call me Ellie,’ she informed.
‘No thanks, Ellie, I ate on the train down from Carlisle. I need to use the telephone though.’
‘It’s right outside, down the hall. There’s a scrambler on it, so feel free to speak how you want to. How about some coffee?’
‘Thanks, Ellie. That would be swell.’ Brannigan smiled and closed the door as Ellie walked back down the stairs and into the kitchen. She had been ‘housekeeper’ of this CIA safe house for seven years. Before that, she had worked as a secretary in the US Embassy in Paris. Her husband, a systems analyst, had been involved in early advisory deployments to Vietnam, working alongside the French Army, at the air base in Tan Son Nhut, near Saigon. He was meeting in a Nissan hut with French officers when tea had been served by a young Vietnamese boy. A box had been added to the tray of beverages, showing the label of a locally made sweet biscuit bread. The boy had placed down the tray and exited the room. One of the French officers had gone to the tray and poured out the tea for the men, who were studying a map of the North Vietnamese area. He handed each cup to the other members of the party, and then reached out for the wooden box. Placing his fingers underneath the lid, he lifted it. The explosion that followed was heard in the operations hut 1000 yards away. The box had been rigged with three Russian-made hand grenades, linked to a fuse. The detonator was connected by a small wire to the trigger that had been taped to the bottom of the box lid. All four men were killed instantly.
After the death of her husband, Ellie requested to be assigned to London, as she had enjoyed the sites many times when her husband had been posted there. She was offered the post as a CIA ‘housekeeper’ and had taken it willingly. Part of her clandestine daily routine was to walk through nearby Battersea Park, another place where she used to spend time with her late husband. She made many friends during her walks in the park, but none of them would think that this sixty two year old widow controlled a secret CIA establishment, situated on the south bank of the River Thames.
Jake Brannigan lifted the receiver of the phone and dialed. After six rings, he heard Maitland’s voice. ‘Hi Frank, its Jake. Just letting ya know, that I’m now at the safe house.’
Maitland sat at this desk. ‘That’s great, Jake. We may have a problem here, as Alex Swan has given our boys the slip and could be heading this way. Don’t worry, I’ll be ready for the son of a bitch if he shows up.’
Brannigan smiled. ‘Too bad that I’m not there with ya. I sure would like to have a piece of that action.’
Maitland agreed. ‘Okay, pal. Remember, tomorrow you just get to the GK stand and Ava will give ya the package. Follow the instructions I gave ya, and you should be okay.
Chapter 20
The A594 out of Ellenborough was quiet at this particular time of the morning. The sun had just started to rise, and a combination of purple to blue rays of mixed light crept over the hills.
Howard Barnett drove his Austin A40 casually, his passenger sitting next to him, contemplating on how the day would pan out.
‘When we get to Crash Gate Four, Jim Lewis will be waiting there with the Bird Scaring Land Rover. He’ll unlock the gate and let you in, then take you to the garage which is next to the Magic Box. Lay low in the garage office until I can arrange for the fire alarms to be set off. Then, Jim will go with you into the side door and show you where the entrance to the basement is. I’ve told Jim everything, so he was keen to give us a hand to get his revenge for the Yanks turning him into human laundry.’