The four waiting for rescue stood motionless, stunned into silence.
‘Oh, God! Those poor men!’ gasped Chloe.
‘Jee-zus.’ whispered Chris.
‘Shit!’ muttered Brady.
‘Fuck me, what next?’ spat Ross with little sympathy. ‘I really didn’t expect that! You lot stay put, get your kit on while I go to see how the crew is.’
Brady was particularly distressed; being an airman himself, he hated to see any aircraft come to grief, and he strongly suspected that the crew had not survived.
By the time Ross returned, they had redressed and clipped on their skis, ready to resume.
‘Doesn’t look good. I can't tell for sure, but there’s no sign of life that I can see.’
As he finished his statement a huge explosion blew all four of them off their feet.
It took several minutes for the group to recover their composure and regain their feet.
‘Well, that settles that,’ stated Ross matter of factly.
Brady gave him a look of utter contempt and would have torn into him if Chloe hadn’t struck first:
‘For God’s sake, Ross, those men were trying to help us. They didn’t deserve to die!’
Ross was unrepentant:
‘Get over it! They should have been more fookin’ careful. Now, let's get moving again, we need to find a place for the night.’
The other three looked at each other, horrified, but kept silent. Instead, they trudged after Ross who had already skied away. He was heading for the southern bridge tower and reached it about sixty seconds before the others – giving him just enough time to send off another message.
‘She will not be happy!’ he mused.
******
Ann Fletcher was indeed ‘not happy’.
In fact, she was incredulous, incredibly peeved and monumentally furious.
What was it going to take to get her daughter to safety? She had already called in too many favours for her liking, and now she would have to exert extra pressure in certain undesirable quarters. She had already received a particularly unpleasant phone call from an irate RAF officer who was not happy that three of his valuable aircrew had been wasted on this ‘unauthorised mission’. Dame Ann had given the officer a very large ‘flea in his ear’, reminding him who he was talking to, and that he himself had ‘authorised’ the sortie, so he should be very careful what he said. The officer was quietly contrite by the end of the conversation, but Ann decided that she might have to deal with him later. She didn’t like those ‘loose ends.’
Consequently, she called her MI5 contact and issued the appropriate orders. The contact listened in silence and uttered only one phrase at the end of the call: ‘yes, ma’am’.
Day 28
Saturday 11th January
QEII Bridge – Essex
Ross had found them another hidey hole for what he sincerely hoped would be their last night on the ice. Even he was growing increasingly cold and fatigued.
He maintained his policy of people avoidance and they sheltered in an abandoned flat in a block in Dartford. There were people about, but they weren’t very forthcoming, which kept Ross happy. They spent an uneventful evening and Ross was able to get a message off disclosing his position and re-arranged a pick up for the morning.
The remainder of the night passed without incident and they were all up by 0900, on the road by 1000, and at 1100 a helicopter swept down from the direction of the M25, and this time, collected all four with no complications at all.
It was raining as they took off.
An hour later the aircraft landed in Brussels, where Chloe, Chris and Brady were transferred via limousine direct to the UKRA building. Ross made his excuses and shook hands firmly with Brady, who thanked him sincerely for his help. He wanted to keep in touch, but Ross was non-committal:
‘Just another job, mun,’ said Ross casually, ‘just another job.’
******
The reunion was almost touching.
Chloe and her mother had never been close, but they hugged warmly and Ann was sincerely delighted to be re-united with her daughter, and they sat and chatted for nearly half an hour, with Chris and Brady mainly looking on.
Questions were asked about Les, Sue and the others and Ann confirmed that they were fine – currently going through processing and that they were safe. She had perfected the art of lying smoothly and without hesitation. She fenced off questions from Chloe about Ann and Brady, saying that it was a subject better discussed later – in private.
Ann expressed her everlasting gratitude to Brady and they made arrangements to have dinner that evening. Chloe was transferred to Ann’s private quarters, whilst Chris and Brady were provided transport to a close by Belgian Air Force mess in the city for senior officers. All four would be re-united that evening at a restaurant in Brussels, when Ann would outline plans for the future.
The group split up, relieved to be back in civilisation. Chris and Brady were not particularly happy to be separated from Chloe, but as it was only until that evening, they were prepared to suffer the short separation.
They went their separate ways with smiles on their faces and looked forward to their evening get-together. Brady was sublimely happy to have a new family and was contemplating a much rosier future than he had a right to expect.
Ann Fletcher had other plans.
Day 28
Saturday 11th January
Brussels
I’ve managed to trace fifty-six living, current or ex-members of the SAS and SBS.
Richard Castle sat in the deputy-Prime Minister’s office sipping Lapsang Souchong tea from a bone china cup. Castle was an ex-Guardsman and retired after the first Gulf War with an MC, war wounds and a smooth path to a parliamentary seat for the Tories in Finchley. His rise up the party ranks was meteoric and when the snow started he was in Bonn acting for his boss, the Foreign Secretary. He now worked for the UKRA and, in his early forties, was the youngest member of the cabinet.
He also ‘knew’ Ann Fletcher.
They were old friends and partners in crime – metaphorically of course.
They were both clinically ambitious and ruthless.
They were like two peas in a pod, and Ann had selected Richard very carefully for his present post. He was in charge of the Finance Portfolio and reported directly to Ann. That was no accident either.
Ann realised that restoring confidence in the British Pound was essential if recovery was ever to get off the ground floor – not that she really gave a damn about that!
She and Richard had been in contact since the snow started and renewed an old relationship which went back, on and off, some ten years. That's what Ann liked about Richard; he wasn’t the clingy type and didn’t get snotty when Ann dallied elsewhere when it suited her. Richard was his own man, independently wealthy and was probably one of the few men on earth who wasn’t intimidated by Ann Fletcher. The success of their plan to recover the gold reserves from the vaults in the Bank of England would secure their reputations for life – or so she told Richard.
‘So, what’s the current state of the plan?’ Ann asked quietly.
‘It all depends on the weather – of course. As you know it's started to bloody rain. It's quite bad actually, but it might work in our favour. Today’s the eleventh and rain is forecast for three days, which takes us to Tuesday before we can get back onto the ground in the UK. The rain will melt the snow more quickly than sunshine, and the air temperature will rise significantly as the warm front passes through the UK. We expect several feet of snow to be washed away – which will cause separate issues – flooding being the main evil. However, behind the warm front is another area of high-pressure which should last a week or so. A day or so after that slides in, the surface should have reformed to allow skiers to travel quite well.’
Ann absorbed all of this information and brought up the subject of rescue operations.
‘The rain will probably inhibit the rescue programme quite a de
al. I suspect that anyone now emerging from the snow will be lucky to survive the next three days if they don’t get onto high ground or into a building with a secure roof. Food must be an issue for anyone out there, so we have been dropping supplies to people we haven’t been able to pick up.’
Richard agreed:
‘I really think that rescuing any meaningful numbers of survivors after today is pie in the sky. However, luckily, we are still well away from having to deal with bodies under or at the surface. Hopefully, that’ll be somebody else’s job. As I said earlier, the three-day delay whilst it’s raining will give us a chance to train the team. I’ve selected two teams of eight. One SAS, one SBS – nothing like a bit of inter-service rivalry. One officer, one NCO and six grunts in each team – all ex-servicemen – I thought that to be more prudent. They’ve been awarded generous terms for the job and are all completely reliable. Cash is their master - $US in this case, deposited in Swiss accounts in advance. I believe that our investment at this stage will prove more than worthwhile!’
‘I'm sure it will be,’ Ann concurred arrogantly. She wasn’t paying anyway.
‘They are drawing up a plan as we speak at the Princess Royal Barracks, Gutersloh. Complete security is being provided by our own Military Police. They have been briefed to be ready to go by Monday – and be assured - they will be.’
‘Excellent, Richard. Seems like things are proceeding apace. I’ll brief the PM tonight – probably at Cabinet. Have we arranged where the ‘gold’ will be transferred?’
‘Yes, it’ll all go to Zurich eventually. The Swiss can then start guaranteeing loans and supervising payback. But that's not our problem, either.’
‘Fine,’ said Ann, ‘let me have your ‘contingency’ plan as soon as possible, please.’
‘I thought you may want that information, so I’ve brought it here myself. Only you and I are privy to this. I suggest it remains that way – we don’t want freeloaders getting interested in our plans.’
He passed a thin folder across to the deputy PM.
‘Are all of the ..er ‘administrative’ details in place?’
‘They will be by Monday morning,’ Richard confirmed.
‘I hope so,’ Ann warned, ‘without them we may well encounter difficulties.’ Ann paused and concluded the meeting:
‘Thank you Richard, I’ve got dinner with Chloe later, but I’ll see you after that.’
‘Look forward to it,’ he said enthusiastically.
Of course, they were sleeping together, and had been since mid-December.
Day 28
Saturday 11th January
A restaurant in Brussels
Brady, Chloe and Chris had been waiting in the private room of a very swish Brussels restaurant for nearly an hour. They had enjoyed a couple of bottles of wine and some canapés and were reasonably merry by the time Ann arrived at 9pm, apologising profusely and babbling theatrically and, moreover, uncharacteristically.
‘I was held up, as usual. You’ll have to get used to that I'm afraid, Chloe. I work fairly long hours. But perhaps I can arrange a job for you here in Brussels – you know we have a newspaper called the UK News run from Holland. They might need a talented Graphic Designer – we all need to pull our weight. Even you Chris, we can use electricians in the main building, setting up all sorts of extra power points and stations. I’ve arranged for you to see a chap on Monday morning. But enough about all that – how are you all?’
Her three guests exchanged glances, eyebrows raised.
‘We’re fine, Ann, considering what we've all been through. You have a great deal to thank the Townsends for. Where are they, by the way?’ asked Brady.
‘Long story,’ stalled Ann, avoiding the inevitable for as long as possible, ‘let's order and eat first. The food here is superb. I’ll fill you in as we eat.’
Attentive waiters noted their choices from the menu and scuttled off to fetch the first course.
‘How are you all adapting?’ asked Ann, attempting to change the conversation.
‘Well, mother, I was more than mildly surprised when Andy turned up in Walthamstow and announced that he was my father. Is it true?’ implored Chloe.
Ann took a sip from her Chablis and gave Chloe a gaze which was extremely familiar. Ann was about to preach according to the gospel of ‘Mother Fletcher’.
‘With all due respect to Chris, I believe that the subject of our family is something that the three of us need to talk about in private. There is much to explain and much talking to do.’ She glanced at Chris – ‘Sorry, Chris, I'm sure you understand, don’t you?’
‘Of course, completely, if you say so.’ He had no real choice.
Chloe knew from bitter experience that her mother had closed the subject for immediate discussion, so she turned to her garlic mushrooms, which had just been served. Her father gave her a knowing glance and touched her hand in support. Chloe gave him a weak smile in return.
Andy tried a different tack.
‘To be fair Ann, Chloe needs answers. I know that you are busy, but at some time you are going to have to give her an explanation, and perhaps even an apology?’
Ann didn’t even look up from her devilled kidneys, because the look on her face would have given everything away. Regaining her composure, Ann responded, controlling her anger with some difficulty:
‘I completely agree, Andy. Perhaps later this evening, after dinner, at my apartment? We can talk through the whole business.’
Chloe thought that this reaction summed her mother up in a nutshell. The whole family relationship issue was just a ‘business’ to her.
All three of Ann’s guests were now becoming uncomfortable. There was something weird going on. Ann was being oblique and downright evasive. Brady was becoming suspicious, but decided to remain silent for the time being.
Chris had no such reservations:
‘What about my family? You said you’d tell me what was happening to them.’
Ann realised that she couldn’t delay any longer and had to make a choice about which tale to tell. She decided.
‘Chris, what I'm going to tell you may be difficult to swallow, but I believe it is for the best. I did what I did with the best of intentions and perhaps you’ll eventually come to agree with me.’
Chris was now expecting the worst, dropping his cutlery and staring straight at Ann. She continued quickly:
‘When the five Townsends, and of course your sweet dog, Bracken, arrived in Brussels, they were bewildered, tired and, quite frankly, a touch naïve regarding the future here in Europe. I had to make a decision on their behalf. I was – am – incredibly grateful to them – and you, Chris – for keeping my daughter safe through this nightmare, so I believed that I owed them a fresh start away from the pandemonium that is coming.’
Ann paused for effect.
‘I sent them to Florida to my villa in the Orlando suburbs – you know it Chloe, you’ve stayed there. I’ve provided funds and jobs for the three of working age and an agent to supervise their adaptation to the American way of life. They are truly better off in America than living in some squalid camp in Germany or a council flat in Belgium, having to scrounge for every penny and with absolutely no prospects. I know this for a fact, because I am intimately acquainted with the reality of what's going on out there.’
Chris took a few seconds to take it all in.
‘Are they gone forever? Why didn’t you wait for me to get back? Are they there yet? Can I talk to them?’
‘There was no point in waiting, Chris. I didn’t even know if Ross was going to get you all out. I had to act – and no, they are not gone for ever. You could join them at any time. Chloe could come and visit as well. As for talking to them, they are probably still airborne somewhere over South Carolina. They only left today.’
Chloe was having none of it. She was incredulous:
‘What? I could go and visit! Why can't we both go and live there as well? And why couldn’t you just wait a day or two before
shipping them off?’
Ann had to think quickly.
‘I thought you would want to stay with me now. Of course, Chris could stay here as well. I can fix you up with a nice apartment. We should be closer now, Chloe. After all we've been through. Or maybe you could go down to a villa in Italy to get some sun.’
‘Hang on,’ interrupted Brady, ‘don’t I get a say in all this?’
Ann took control, side-lining Brady.
‘Look, Chloe, you are overwrought. It's the stress you’ve been through. There’s a nice bar and dance floor at the back of the restaurant. Why don’t you both go and have a drink and talk it all through calmly, and perhaps you might see that I’ve done a good thing for the Townsends. They are out of all of this horror. Go on, go, and I can talk to Andy for a while, and you can try to sort out what you really want to do with Chris.’
Chloe stood up, strode indignantly out of the room followed quietly by Chris, and headed for the bar. Ann signalled for the waiters to leave:
‘Please delay the main course and do not disturb us until I call. Thank you,’ said Ann sweetly.
Brady tried to keep his temper, but failed.
‘What the fuck are you up to, Ann?’
‘Steady Wing Commander, or should I say, Group Captain. Your promotion came through yesterday. Congratulations.’
Brady would not be diverted.
‘I said; what are you up to, Ann? What devious plan have you conceived for my daughter? I am not losing Chloe again, especially after what we’ve all been through. I thought that this was a fresh start for all three of us?’
Ann sneered at Brady and gave him both barrels:
‘You poor, gullible fool! Your daughter! She’s not your daughter, Andy. Perhaps you should have checked her real date of birth? She was actually born in November of that year – not May. You’re not her father – in fact I’m not really sure who is – but you are certainly not!’
Snow! The Series [Books 1-4] Page 73
