Chapter 27

It was three days later that Ford was judged well enough to receive visitors.
Hooper turned up with a large bunch of grapes, a bottle of barley water and, having consulted the Ward Sister, a change of clothing.
"So how are things in the madhouse?" Asked Ford.
"Doug's having a nervous breakdown, he's had to answer some very searching questions from the HOD about how he managed to lose the best reporter the station's ever had. I tried to tell them I wasn't going anywhere…"

Ford chuckled.
"So anyway, what are you going to do now you're a man of leisure?"
""I don't know. Perhaps I can rework my Turkish report and produce it myself for one of the independents. At least I won't have to worry about Editorial guidelines. Perhaps I'll even turn it into a book."
"Good idea"
At that moment a bell rang, signalling the end of visiting.

"That's my cue to leave". Hooper stood. He had no wish to feel the Matron's wrath.
"Thanks for coming"
"See you around"

Cheeseman had been as good as his word. The photograph bore none of the signs of damage. The replacement frame was indistinguishable from the one it had replaced.
Freeman had collected the photograph the previous day. In addition to the agreed fee, Freeman had added a generous tip.
"Good work, Alec." I suppose we'd better arrange for its return. When's Ford due out of hospital?"
"Tomorrow." Replied Freeman. "That doesn't give us a lot of time to put it back."
"We're not going to put it back," said Straker. "This is what we're going to do…"

Ford was bored. He'd eaten breakfast with gusto and waited whilst the Doctors hummed and hawed before finally declaring Ford fit to be discharged. With that, they had left, allowing Ford to get dressed. Since then, he'd heard nothing more. He tried to read the newspaper but it failed to hold his attention. Finally, he tossed it aside and looked out of the window.

"Mr Ford?"
Ford turned. A tall man in a brown jacket was standing in the doorway.
"Yes?"
"I have instructions to take you home." The voice was cultured but still had a trace of its East End origins
"From whom?"
"I dunno, I just got a call this morning. Gent to be discharged from hospital and taken home"
"At last! Lead on!"
The driver picked up Ford's bag then led Ford out to the car park, where he tossed Ford's bag into the boot of a nondescript saloon.
As the car drove out of the hospital grounds it passed a ambulance, on its way in.

Although superficially like an ambulance, this vehicle, fitted with seats, rather than stretchers, was correctly known as a Sitting Car. Patients who, for whatever reason couldn't make their own way, could be ferried to and from hospitals for routine out-patient appointments.. Unlike conventional ambulances, crewed by a Driver and Attendant. these were operated by a single ambulanceman during an 8-5 day shift, making a pleasant change from the stress of emergency calls.
For this driver, it was business as usual. He pulled up at the entrance, climbed down from the cab, then walked round to the back of the vehicle to open up the rear doors then help the patients down the folding steps to the ground..

Satisfied his charges were able to walk into the hospital unaided, he raised the steps and closed the rear doors.
He grabbed the clipboard off the passenger seat and checked the job sheet. Just the one, he noted:

Discharge to Home: Mr K Ford. Ward 4.

He frowned when he saw the address. It was quite a trip out into the country. He shrugged: it was a nice day. He would think of it as a nice drive in the country. He looked at his watch and smiled; he was due a break. He'd see about his patient after tea. He strode off to the crew room.

Outside rush hour, London Traffic was light and the car was soon in the suburbs. Ford had tried to engage the driver in conversation hut, apart from a few non-committal replies, had not succeeded. His shoulder aching, Ford shifted his position, rested his head on the window and closed his eyes. It would be nice to sleep in his own bed that evening.
Freeman noticed Ford moving and smiled. It had all been too easy.

"Missing? What do you mean missing? In all her years as a nurse, Matron had never heard anything like it. Patients just didn't disappear from her ward. It was unthinkable.

"Well, when I got to his room, there he was, gone!" Explained the ambulanceman.
"You'd better find him then, hadn't you?"

The car turned into the lane leading to Ford's cottage, passing an olive green van bearing the legend 'Post Office Telephones'.

Carefully, Freeman manoeuvred past the red and white striped tent before turning into the drive. Gravel crunched under the wheels. Freeman pulled on the handbrake. The noise of the ratchet jerked Ford awake. He looked around. They had arrived at his cottage. He got out of the car, and walked toward the front door. He stopped. Smoke curled gently from the chimney.

"Something wrong?" Freeman had picked up Ford's bag from the boot of the car and moved to stand beside him.

"Someone's been here,: Replied Ford. "The fire was out when I left"

"Perhaps your Housekeeper…"
"I live alone" snapped Ford, reaching for his keys.

He fitted the key into the lock and the door swung open – it had been left on the latch.
Someone had been there!

Ford tiptoed across the hallway, alert for any noise.

Gently, he pushed open the door to the study. He looked around the room. . A fire roared in the grate. Apart from that, everything seemed normal. Everything seemed to be as he'd left it, yet something wasn't right. With a gasp of realization, he crossed to the low table: the wedding photograph was missing!
Frantically, he searched the room.
Unnoticed, Freeman entered the room, still carrying Ford's bag. which he placed in the corner.

Ford's worst fears were realised: The Manuscript, along with the reference materials had gone. He sagged into a chair

"Something wrong? Asked Freeman.

Ford waved, vaguely, in the direction of his desk; "I was working on a script. It's taken me years…" Ford's voice tailed off.
"Was it important?" asked Freeman
"Important? My research shows that the Earth is under imminent threat of Alien invasion…"
"If it's that important, perhaps we should call the Police." Suggested Freeman.

"Yes, yes, of course." Ford grabbed the handset and dialled.

Within minutes, Ford had reported the theft, to be told that someone would be along directly

Whilst he waited, Ford decided to see what else was missing; a difficult task, hindered as he was by the sling on his arm.

Finally, dejected, he slumped into the chair. He shook his head slowly; the report and even the deigns could be re-worked but the photograph, taken at his wedding, was irreplaceable.
Why? Why that? His last link to Claire was gone, probably thrown away by the thieves as soon as they realized that it had no financial value.

The weight of the past few weeks' events finally caught up with him. Tears welled up as he looked at Freeman. "Why? Why Claire?" Ford's voice broke

Freeman had half expected this. He made his way to the kitchen where he made tea. Luckily, whoever had lit the fire had been thoughtful enough to leave a bottle of fresh milk. No, not luck, planning.

Freeman carried the tray into the study and set it down on the coffee table, just as there was a knock on the front door.

"I'll get it" said Freeman. Ford was so lost in his world of grief that he needn't have bothered.
Freeman stepped into the hallway, closing the inner door behind him, before opening the front door. Straker stepped into the hallway, attaché case in hand. "How is he, Alec? "
"He's ready"

Ford looked up as the door opened and Straker walked in, closing the connecting door behind him.
"I'm Straker. You reported a break-in Mr. Ford." Ford was surprised that the detective was American. Straker looked around the room, nodding slowly at the various items of interest.
"Yes"

So what alerted you to the break in?
"I've been away, in Turkey, so when I arrived home, I was surprised to see smoke from the chimney. I came in here and noticed the theft so I called you." Ford had forgotten that Freeman had been the one to suggest it. Freeman had a remarkable skill at merging into the background.
"So how did they enter the house?"
"I don't know. I only checked things in here."
Straker already knew. He moved on:
"Has anything been taken?"
"Just some papers and my wedding photograph, in a frame"
"What sort of papers? Deeds? Share certificates?" Straker already knew but he had to maintain the pretence. For now, at least.

Ford shook his head:. "There were some Engineering papers and a Programme script I'd been working on."
"Oh? What was it about?"
"You'll think it crazy. My Editor certainly does – did" Ford corrected himself.
"Ok, try me"
"What would you say if I told you that the human race was facing an extra-terrestrial threat?"
"That's quite a claim Mr. Ford"

"It's a fact. I discovered solid evidence that alien craft are visiting this planet. Just a few nights ago, I encountered a craft. I took photographs, too, but I suppose they will have been destroyed by now.
Straker tried to keep the excitement out of his voice. "You say you saw an extra-terrestrial craft? How do you know?"
"I was in the Royal Air Force. I know aircraft. Whatever that thing was, it obeyed no known laws of aerodynamics."
"When did you see it?"
"The first time… "
"The first time…?"
"Yes. I've seen those craft three times now. The first time was when I was stationed at Fylingdales, the second was when Claire …died." Straker could see the pain.
"I'm sorry. Tell me about her."
She was…Beautiful. Intelligent…Those butchers took her. Took her and cut her up." Ford closed his eyes tight, as if to shut out the pain.

"Butchers?"
"How would you describe them? Ford had tears in his eyes now. "They came late one night and took her in one of their craft. I never saw her alive again."
"The third time?"
"Less than a fortnight ago. I was up in East Anglia…"
Straker already knew about this one. He decided to change the subject "What were you doing in Turkey?"
"I was sent to report on the Turkish Earthquake. I'm a… I was a journalist"
"Was?"
"I resigned…"
"Why?"
"I couldn't accept the censorship"

"Censorship?"

My report was edited to the point I didn't recognize it as mine. How could I possibly accept it going out with my name on?"
"Why was it censored?"
"I was told it was a 'non-subject', that it had been suppressed at the highest level.
The Earthquake?"
Ford shook his head: "The Alien threat. DAMMIT! The public has the right to know! It's my duty to tell them!"
"Tell them what, Mr. Ford?"
"That the Authorities know what's going on but are keeping it a secret from the public"

"So what were you planning to do with the script?"
"I was all ready to go. I'd found suitable film clips, I had an interview with a leading expert in the field…"
"So what happened?"
"It was cancelled."
"Why do you suppose that was?
"Spineless Management, afraid to stick their necks out?"

"But the script's gone now. Where's your proof?"
Ford tapped the side of his head. "I still remember most of it. The rest, I can find again…".his voice tailed off. Straker was shaking his head slowly.
Ford was confused. This man didn't talk like a policeman. Suddenly, he didn't want this man in his house. He stood. "Who are you?"
Straker stood and started to walk slowly round the room, examining various items of interest, finally arriving at the bench with its complex circuit.: "Interesting!"
"Leave that alone!" Ford shouted
"I was just admiring the workmanship. You know, you could have a promising career in electronics".

"But I already have a career in Journalism…"
Straker went back to his case, and opened it. He pulled out the circuit diagrams and the journal article and placed them on the coffee table. "You know, we had these designs analyzed by the best experts in the country. They advised us to destroy them to prevent them falling into the wrong hands".
"Where did you get those?" Ford was suspicious. "Did you break in?
"You've already told me you resigned." Straker continued. "Your Editor already thinks you're unbalanced. You know no-one's ever going to believe you. Face it, Ford. As a Reporter, you're finished."
Straker gave the other a moment to digest this. He reached into the case , extracted the folder and tossed it onto the table .

"You did break in!"

Ford reached for the was his script

"It's a remarkable piece of work, Mr. Ford. But what can you possibly do with it?
"Well, I could…" he stopped as Straker slowly shook his head

"That programme cannot be made. Think about it. what would happen if the threat became widely known?
"Well…"
"I'll tell you what would happen Mr. Ford, there would be widespread panic, the Authorities would be overwhelmed. Law and Order would break down."

"Have you been talking to Doug Turnbull?" Ford smiled.
The smile faded. Ford realized that Straker was in no mood for flippancy
"But the people have a right…"

"Do you think you're the only person to see a UFO? The only person who recognizes the threat they pose? "
"Well, no, I have the proof…"
"As the Authorities have.:
"Then why has nothing been done?
"Perhaps they have"

Ford was intrigued now.

Straker continued: "Last year, there was a top secret meeting at the United Nations to decide on appropriate action to counter the threat. For the past year, we has been working, in total secrecy, to set up a global defence organization. I was appointed Commander.

We are going to need equipment far more advanced that currently exists

So far we have a small team, but we need more personnel, particularly scientists and engineers., the very best, internationally.

I am convinced that, as far as Communications are concerned, you are the best"

"Well, I…"

"Earlier, you mentioned making a programme about the UFO menace. I cannot allow that to happen. If you insist on trying, you will meet the most extreme resistance…"

"Is that a threat?"
"No, a promise." There was no menace in the words. There didn't need to be

Straker allowed the implications to sink in

You'll never make another programme but perhaps I can find a place for you in my Programme"

"What do you mean?" Ford was puzzled

"I'm offering you a chance to make a difference, a real difference. It's not going to be an easy ride"
A pause. "You can't bring Claire back, but you might be able to stop those responsible from killing anyone else."

Ford looked into the fire for a moment. He thought for a moment, then scooped up the report and carefully moved to the fireplace. The flames licked hungrily at the sheets.
"Alec!" Straker called.
The door to the hallway opened and Freeman entered, carrying a small package
"A sign of good faith on your part deserves one on ours." Straker said as Freeman offered the package to Ford. It was a shallow rectangle, rather like the missing frame

Ford hurriedly tore at the brown paper and gasped as the photograph was revealed. It was the missing photograph.
"We had to have it repaired," Freeman explained "I'm afraid I accidentally broke it when I was last here."
Straker made the introductions: "Mr Ford, Colonel Alec Freeman..

"How do you do?" said Freeman, offering his hand.

"And I'm Straker, Commander of the Supreme Headquarters, Alien Defence Organization:" Ford grasped the offered hand.

In the fireplace the last of the pages curled and crumbled to ashes

Straker was pleased. He knew now that his instinct had been right.

"Welcome to SHADO."

The End