by Tom Marcus
A few minutes had gone by when I found myself looking at an obviously new and very young employee, clearly just out of university and by the look of him either in some admin role or low-level HR position. Thin, tall, around twenty-one, twenty-two years old, stereotypical geek. Breaking my gaze on this boy was one of the canteen staff bringing me another coffee. She knew I was about to say I hadn’t ordered a second one.
‘This is from the elderly gentleman you were just sitting with.’
Watching her walk away, I poured way too much sugar into my coffee. I thought about the different levels of knowledge within this building.
It’s all need to know and everyone in this building respects that. The woman who just brought my coffee, despite working in Thames House for years, wouldn’t even have known Director A’s name, his role or the devastating news he just told me.
The one person I trusted completely in this agency was now dead. It wasn’t the fact that someone else close to me had died; that happens in my world, it’s part and parcel of doing dangerous work. What really grated on me was the fact that I wasn’t given any answers at all; this was being swept under the carpet and, as far as I could see, the longer I stayed in this line of work, the bigger the carpet we were going to need would be.
I couldn’t believe Ian, the man I knew, would kill himself. It felt like it was being shut down quietly, either to protect his integrity or his family. Maybe the director was right that I shouldn’t go asking questions. Whatever Ian’s demons were, he was free of them now. All I knew for sure was that this iconic and powerful agency had just become that much lonelier for me.
My handler, mentor and one of the best intelligence officers I’d ever met was dead and his body was now cold. I never knew his real name.
CHAPTER EIGHT
In the run-up to the London Olympics we started to notice a shift in Islamic extremists’ tactics and the way they operated. Usually, home-grown terrorists who affiliate themselves with al-Qaeda or Daesh lack the operational experience to evade us. Some will have returned from training camps in Africa, Syria or Pakistan, and the odd one will have had combat experience in Afghanistan, Iraq, Palestine or Africa. But the majority up till then had very few anti-surveillance skills and certainly no counter-surveillance expertise.
Anti- and counter-surveillance are very different pieces of tradecraft. We use them every single day on the ground as operators. Broadly speaking, anti-surveillance is the art of evading anyone who may be trying to follow you. For example, a career criminal who thinks there is a chance he’s being followed while driving his car at night, which just happens to be full of drugs, will use simple and very crude aspects of anti-surveillance. For instance, slowing down coming up to a set of traffic lights and, just as they turn red, speeding up and driving through them, knowing that any vehicle following wants to stick with his car. Changing direction suddenly down a side street without indicating, driving a full loop around to then go back on the way he’s just driven down – we call that doing a ‘reciprocal’ or ‘recip’ on the net and most of the time it happens when a target is driving around a roundabout to try to catch out any surveillance teams.
Anti-surveillance is quite often done on foot too; you don’t have to be driving a car to do it. It all revolves around being able to move freely without being followed, whether you identify any surveillance or not. MI5 surveillance teams employ rigorous and sometimes complicated tradecraft every day to avoid being seen, it becomes second nature to us, but the tactics we use are sometimes used by our targets and they catch out normal police surveillance teams all the time.
Counter-surveillance requires a lot more planning and involves more people. We run counter-surveillance operations all the time for our agent handlers, or for our own operations in which we are deploying against the Russians or Chinese. Whereas anti-surveillance is designed to avoid being followed, counter-surveillance is designed to identify operators working within a surveillance team, their vehicles, equipment, how they communicate and ultimately how big the team actually is. Obviously there are different degrees of counter-surveillance; if a crime syndicate was running ‘counter’ to detect a police team then they would only likely be able to identify people, vehicles and potentially how they communicate, although it would be unlikely that they would be able to hear the encrypted transmissions.
MI5 ‘counter’ is, as you would imagine, incredibly in-depth. If we were providing cover for an agent handler we’d agree the route of travel he’d take to meet his agent. We’d design the route so it would take a natural path to the meeting while providing opportunities for identifying any hostile surveillance along the way.
It’s a huge effort and takes a large team positioned along the predetermined route. In high-profile operations we’d be tracking the human intelligence source our agent handler was about to meet. The thing that gives the game away is always their behaviour. Being natural and living your cover are the keys to being a good operator. Never be seen to talk to yourself; only nutters and undercover police talk to themselves. If we have to speak on the radio we do it covertly, so we either pretend we are talking on our phone, or do it at natural points that allow your body to move away from anyone who may be watching your face. If we feel we can’t talk at all, we can use our radios to signal a limited amount of information non-verbally. This would be started by our team members in their cars asking us questions and we’d reply with signals for yes or no. We also have a signal to tell the team we are in danger and need extracting immediately.
I’d seen terrorist groups deploy various forms of anti-surveillance and counter-surveillance including counter-electronic surveillance, which is designed to identify and disrupt our eavesdropping capability. Usually this came from the Irish groups hell-bent on destroying the Good Friday Agreement. I’d never experienced any ‘counter’ from Islamic extremist terror cells, until now.
Our target was extremely high profile, number three on our grid. He was responsible for facilitating groups of young men he’d had radicalized to fight British and American troops in Afghanistan and Iraq. He funded his operation with stolen credit cards and various other criminal activities. He knew he was on our radar because we had tried to recruit him a few years earlier; however, his arrogance and belief in his position within the UK as the voice of sharia law was too strong and we couldn’t turn him. He was, however, an incredible source of intelligence because his associates and those he was radicalizing weren’t that bright and would easily reveal either to other people or via social media what their intentions were. This target first came on to our grid in 2008 and was given the code name SHARP PENCIL.
Camden Market in London is a brilliant place for operators to work in, and my team had spent countless hours there over the years watching targets. It does, however, present its own challenges for a surveillance team, even one as good as ours. Usually there is at least one undercover police operation in place looking to identify stolen or counterfeit goods being sold on the stalls, and it’s also a breeding ground for pickpockets looking to take advantage of the tourists that flock there. This makes the area ‘red hot’. Anyone who’s up to no good, whether they be a terrorist or a low-level criminal, is watching out for undercover operators, and thanks to the teams of police trying to be covert when they are all over six foot tall, clean-shaven, wearing outdoor walking clothes and not buying anything, our targets such as SHARP PENCIL carry on with their normal day, refraining from doing anything operational.
We’d never liaise with the normal police on our operations; they weren’t cleared and to be honest we didn’t trust them. Police counter-terrorist teams and Special Branch were cleared to Secret and in rare cases the odd one held Top Secret clearance, particularly if they had served with us in Northern Ireland, so we would sometimes share real-time information with them about an operation, but nine times out of ten we would operate on our own. We didn’t trust anyone, but that’s how we got things done.
It was a Friday, and as we left the ga
rage to deploy surveillance on SHARP PENCIL the team leader asked the Operations Centre for an update on the location of the target.
‘SHARP PENCIL left his HA [Home Address] at 0923hrs wearing a dark brown shalwar kameez, carrying a white bag. He’s currently in the area of Camden Market just south of Camden Lock bridge.’
‘Roger that, all call signs acknowledge down the list.’
As the rest of the team popped up on the net with their vehicle call signs, confirming they had heard the message about SHARP PENCIL leaving his home address. I waited my turn and started to accelerate through London traffic.
‘Charlie Two Two, roger,’ I acknowledged.
Weaving my way through the mass of London commuters, treating all the red traffic lights as a ‘give way’ rather than a ‘stop’, I started to make good ground. The team was working well together already, using bus lanes and overtaking the heavy traffic on the opposite side of the road when there was a gap in the oncoming traffic. It’s like a choreographed piece of ballet, all very smooth: we can see what our team mates’ cars are doing without talking on the net, one car blocks the traffic naturally and we all pass through. London is great for this as the bus lanes, cycle zones at traffic lights and junctions’ hatched boxes all give us space to slice through the city wherever we want.
The big thing to remember is we have to choose our places to do this; you can’t do it in front or behind targets or even in the immediate vicinity because it raises the tension in the area and, although a target may not see it, they will sense something isn’t right. Our vehicles aren’t fitted with sirens or blue lights either, because if you know where to look for the blue lights even in the unmarked ‘covert’ cars the police use, they’re still really obvious to see. If we can see them, everyone else can as well, including our targets and their associates.
As the team approaches the markets, we all start taking different routes and breaking off from each other in a way that probably resembles a group of fighter jets suddenly splitting and breaking formation during a display. If this operation goes to plan, the team won’t come together again until the debrief. The team leader is now on the net telling each team car where to go. The aim is to have Camden Market well covered, with people further out as a precaution. We were all over him.
This is all done without the public, the target or even the police knowing we are there – everything natural and blending in to the area.
‘Charlie Two Two, can you go close in to find SHARP PENCIL?’
‘Charlie Two Two, roger, figures three.’
‘For information, SHARP PENCIL’s just south of the bridge.’
‘Charlie Two Two, roger.’
Now my team knew I was only three minutes away from the market and starting to search for him, and I knew he hadn’t moved; to be stationary this long he was more than likely to be with friends within the market or having something to eat. This was out of character, though, because he wasn’t usually up before midday.
Switching my radio on as I turned into a side street, I saw the bridge and the market in front of me, already rammed full of people. Leaving the car, I sent a quick transmission to my team letting them know I was searching in the area. I loved this part.
‘Zero Six out on foot searching.’
I could hear the whole team now on the net, plotting up in the area, saying what they could and couldn’t do or go with. Stacey was close in too with the camera; I could see her approaching from the north on the other side of the bridge. As an operator, once your radio is constantly receiving transmissions from your team, it gives you a huge sense of confidence that everyone is working together well and you become unstoppable.
There was an urgent signal over the radio.
‘Signal heard, STAND BY, STAND BY. Zero Six, do you have control of SHARP PENCIL?’
Still unable to talk I signalled back to the team on the radio to confirm I had control of the target.
As I walked amongst the hundred or so pedestrians in the area I noticed SHARP PENCIL leaving the market and striding away from me towards the bridge, northbound.
‘Roger that, Zero Six, you have control.’
‘Zero Six, Stacey can?’
It’s always best if you’re on a foot follow to have an officer with a camera provide a commentary when you’re in a busy area like this; it lets you move naturally with the target without having to keep a constant eye on them and gives you the freedom not to talk, plus vehicle crews have maps they can refer to and give accurate locations of where the target is at all times.
Signalling back to Stacey on the radio, I hand over control to her. This was perfect as I could blend in to the environment even better now I didn’t have to give a full commentary on the net.
‘Roger that, Zero Six, I have control of SHARP PENCIL walking northbound on the east side of Camden High Street towards the bridge and the junction with Chalk Farm Road.’
The whole time Stacey was giving the commentary I could hear the camera snapping away, capturing images of our target as he walked further north.
‘From Seven One Zero, SHARP PENCIL is NOT carrying a white bag, he’s empty-handed, wearing a dark brown shalwar kameez, continuing north on Chalk Farm Road on the east side towards the junction of Hawley Street. Zero Six, if he continues past me can you?’
It’s important the team knows what each member can and can’t do. I was in a good position here.
‘Yes, yes. Once he’s past you I can take control.’
No one else was talking now on the net apart from me and Stacey, but I knew the team was manoeuvring around our positions like satellites moving around a planet. We give our targets enough room to go about their business without ever seeing us.
As SHARP PENCIL continued walking I could see the top half of his body through the crowd approximately thirty metres in front of me. When he walked past the camera I took control of the follow.
‘Zero Six, all yours.’
I knew we had good photographic imagery of SHARP PENCIL due to the constant camera clicks every time Stacey sent a transmission.
‘Roger, Zero Six has control; he’s walking northbound on the east side of Chalk Farm Road past Costa Coffee towards Stables Market, very relaxed, no look-backs.’
When following any target you have to give your team as much information as possible in quick concise transmissions: where he is, what direction he is heading and towards something easily recognizable. Whether or not he is operationally aware is important too, because if he starts looking back on his route and deploying some sort of anti-surveillance we’d change how we followed him. SHARP PENCIL seemed very relaxed. I was wondering, however, where his white bag went.
‘Zero Six, permission?’
The team leader always asks for permission to talk when a target is under control to make sure he doesn’t speak when an operator is about to send a critical message.
‘Yes, no change, go ahead.’
‘Base, do we have any other intelligence to suggest what SHARP PENCIL is planning today?’
‘Negative. Nothing.’
‘Roger, thanks, Base. Zero Six back to you.’
‘Roger that, from Zero Six. SHARP PENCIL IN, IN Stables Market, I can’t go with but have direct on the exit.’
‘One Eight can.’
‘Roger, thanks, Sarah. Stations stay sharp here, please.’
The team leader was right to make sure everyone was on top of their game here. I couldn’t follow him into Stables Market as he might recognize me, and despite a lot of people funnelling into a small entrance into an open-air marketplace I’d just followed him up this street. I’d go and get a coffee in Costa Coffee, sit inside, watching through the shop window at the exit, and wait for him to leave. Sarah would go into the market to watch what he did and feed him back to me, waiting outside. Once she heard SHARP PENCIL was clear of the area, she’d leave and rejoin the team.
As I stood in line waiting to order my coffee I could hear the team talking over the radio. I could
spare a minute or two here to live my cover in this shop. I knew Sarah was walking towards the exit, and everyone in the team knew she would have sight of SHARP PENCIL if he quickly left the second marketplace he’d been in this morning, and the advantage of this one was that this was the only exit he’d use.
Trying to cope with a radio that is filled with a ton of voices all constantly talking might put a lot of people off from ordering something as simple as a cup of coffee, but our brains learn to file certain information coming in constantly and you develop the ability to recall that information whenever you need it.
I sat down with my coffee in a takeaway cup, on a seat that gave me a full view of the exit, in case the target came out without Sarah spotting him. Still no word from her and the minutes were ticking by; he hadn’t come out while I’d been watching and Sarah would have seen him exit if he’d left as she approached.
A radio signal came over the net suggesting someone needed to say something but couldn’t talk openly.
‘One Eight, is that you?’
Sarah signalled yes.
OK, she was trying to communicate but clearly couldn’t talk; she hadn’t signalled that she was in trouble, so I knew what the team leader was going to ask next.
‘One Eight, do you need help searching for SHARP PENCIL?’
Confirming she did, it didn’t take long for one of the team to volunteer.
‘Six Seven can?’
‘Thanks, Six Seven.’
The whole team is always desperate to get in on the follow; it’s part of our make-up, we want to be part of the hunt constantly. The one place you really feel like you’re at the sharp end of an operation is when you’re in control of the target. I could see Amrik moving towards the market now too from the north end. He’d infiltrated himself into a large group of tourists also heading into the marketplace, which was smart and exactly what I would have done. Amrik broke up the profile of our close-in team as he was Muslim and dressed in his shalwar kameez. That was the difference between us and police teams: the range of profiles we had was incredible.
